Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Da Nile




Man, it's a sad, sad river to be on! Hubby talked to his dad last week for an hour on the phone. He got mad at me when he told me it was a nice conversation and I rolled my eyes. I'm sorry, but hubby's dad is not only a total asshole but his mental pathologies are so deep and so numerous that I, being but an amateur, would not even want to attempt to unravel it all. On most days hubby is in complete agreement with me, but apparently...he is back on the river again.

Well, fine with me. Far be it for me to try talking sense back into him. It never worked before, it won't work now. I am only kidding myself to try, that much I have learned. Go ahead and believe your dad is freaking GANDHI for all I care. You can pretend my mom is Mother Teresa, while you're at it. Don't forget to throw in a nice Jesus Complex for yourself!

My oldest daughter apparently floats the same river now. She is trying to tell me some bullshit story that my ex told her involving some convoluted story that I allegedly told him when I left him in 1994 and moved out of state with our daughter. I don't know if he actually told her the story, or if she is just making it up to irritate me. (She lies like that, unfortunately. Damn teenagers!) Either way, it is ridiculous. I am tempted to tell her, if you believe that I would do that, and you think your father is telling the truth (Gandhi, anyone?), then go live with him, go find your bliss.

You know, it is apparently not enough to feed, clothe, shelter and love children any more. You are expected in this day and age to cater to some bizarre, culturally insinuated entitlement slash self-esteem program that they have imagined up. Everything I have ever done for my daughter is now come to naught because she is expected to participate in the family by helping with chores and other duties and (gasp!) she is probably NOT going to get a car when she turns 16. Not only that, but I don't want her to get a job just so she can suck MORE at school and complain more about work at home being too much and buy more useless crap with her new paycheck. I am an evil, unloving, horrible mother.

As far as I'm concerned, my teenager and my husband can have their littly pity party together and leave me OUT. Whine, whine, whine, life is so unfair, whine, whine. Give me a break.

Speaking of whiners, I have been watching The War on PBS off and on this past week, and it has really made me stop and think. Mostly what I think when I watch it is that most of this country (unless you're a minority or non-minority poor person) has no clue what it really means to suffer. Yes, we all suffer our slights and trials and that is life. But the petty little things we "suffer" are mostly just a luxury we can afford because all our basic needs are taken care of so therefore all the other stupid things are allowed to become magnified in significance. True suffering is being a soldier in wartime, or being the soldier's widow or grieving family back home. True suffering is being in a concentration camp or being nuked one day just because your country is fighting for some idealogical b.s. that you may not even understand or care about. True suffering is the people in this country who get up and go to work every day just like we do, the same hours or maybe more, and yet still can barely afford basic necessities and probably have no health insurance.

I am so tired of having the whiny suffering of porn addiction on my shoulders. All addiction is just whiny to me now. Yes, I sympathize with all those people who had miserable, abusive, degrading childhoods and now feel they must self-medicate with whatever poison or pastime of choice. But I doubt they are even remotely appreciative of the fact that they live in a time and a place where they have the luxury of whining about their psychological grievances and taking up a (usually costly and always damaging) habit to absorb themselves in. Good riddance to this.
Oh, all the poor, miserable movie stars and rock stars and politicians and doctors and regular people in this country addicted to this, that or the other... You have no idea how lucky you are just to be alive. You squander it all away in self-destructive pursuits and at the end of the day you are just a waste of air.

I can only hope that despite all the negative cultural baggage, I have been able to plant a small seed somewhere in my daughter that will remind her someday that being alive doesn't entitle one to anything or anyone. Living is a choice she will make every day, all day long. She can squander it on whining for petty garbage or she can get her priorities straight and be happy with whatever life gives her.

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