Random Realizations

It’s funny how things can change but yet they remain the same. People change outwardly/their outward appearances… but rarely do they change who they actually are.

Coming back home, I realize now even more than ever that I never did fit in. This place was a stepping stone. I feel as if I have evolved past it.

I went to see my friend Vic who I hadn’t seen in years the other day. It was a “walk of shame” kind of moment in some ways. But, we will get to that at a later time.

Looks wise, I feel more comfortable in my own skin. I realized now that I had been wasting potential previously.

The me now, is the evolved me. I have fallen into a different class of vices and otherwise general classification systemization.

It’s hard to believe that these people… that this life was once my own. It feels so foreign now. I despise this place. It’s reminiscent of so many past troubles and regrets.

I’m now convinced that I must’ve suffered from the unfortunate reality that is “ugly duck syndrome.” People look at me differently now than they did before. And I’m not trying to say that I was looked bad upon before... I just feel in comparison, people are just wow’d more or something. I’m intimidateing but in a different way. It’s really flattering.

If the me of yesterday, met the me of today, I have no doubt that I would have talked some mad shit about myself. To these people here, I’m sure I look like a stuck up bitch.

Yes, I have come to realize how much appearances mean. Appearances are 9/10ths of the law. And, like second impressions, they make or break you.

Yes, you heard me right… second impressions. People tend to think that first impressions are the end all be all. While I will agree that they are important as well, someone can make an excellent first impression and then after the 2^nd one, they can make a fool of themselves. I make a point to give people at least 2 chances. First impressions, eh… second impressions… that’s where it counts, so make it damn good if you want to continue the relationship.

---***---

I think that everyone has different forms of evolution. For me, my evolving was growing “up” into Saks and labels… material things, gadgets, fancy cars, and a family van. For my grandmother however, evolving for her was going back to the same place she came from. It was about her quiet humble house in the country.

Previously, I had despised the desolution of the place. I just couldn’t fathom in my mind why anyone would ever want to go back to a life like that. Personally, I would go absolutely mad mad mad madly at that snail pace of a lifestyle. That’s not what evolution path that was planned for me. But, now I stand back and respect their decisions.

I could tell from the looks on their faces how truly happy that it was making my grandmother. It meant the world to her to be surrounded by her family… in the house in the small little town she once grew up in.

I asked my grandfather if he would take my stepson on his plane. At which point, he proceeded to tell me that it was for sale. He loves that plane. But he loves my grandmother more. He needs the money to maintain both houses; the one my father grew up in, and the one my grandmother wants to spend her remaining years.

My husband said that I should be proud of him. I am. But at the same time, it brings tears to my eyes. It is one of the most selfless signs of love that he could do for my grandmother. Never once could anyone say any different. Now I see where my dad gets his heroism from.

----***----

02 july 06 812am (the morning after the incident)

Driving while “California”

Ever heard the expression “driving while black?” Well, apparently, I was “driving while California.” Let me further explain the nonsensical ways that are the Illinois state cop division.

So, after talking to a friend, she explained to me the new technique that cops use to meet their ticket quotas. These cops are so bored, or such assholes, or some combination thereof, that they will actually ride your ass in order to try and make you speed. Then, when you do speed, they pull you over and write you a ticket.

Knowing about this law, and being the obvious “easy” target for such bullshit behavior, I take to note not to speed up. I know that since I have California plates, I am going to get pulled over for the first indiscretion possible.

So, now, I’m on my way to the family reunion that was the reason for me coming out here in the first place, and it happens. I’m driving in a construction zone, with reduced posted speeds and high fines. Common sense, I drive the speed limit.

Of course, with the backwards society that we live in, even following the law was not good enough. The cop starts rideing my ass, and I maintain following the speed limit. What happens? His cherries turn on. I ease over to the right lane as soon as I can… people weren’t moving out of my way right away though.

So anyway, I’m in the middle of a construction zone, so I wanted to get over to a safe spot. I drove about a half mile, until I got to an onramp, the closest thing to an exit I was going to get.

The cop started to bark at me immediately as I unrolled the window. The first words that came out of his mouth were, to no surprise, “I don’t know how they do things in California, but…” Wow, I totally didn’t see that one coming. (Sarcasm)

“When I turn my lights on, you are supposed to get over to the right immediately…” I tried to explain how I had tried and what not, but the officer wouldn’t let me get an edge word in.

He then asked me “Do you even know how fast you were going ma’m?” I said “yes officer, I was um, going the speed limit. I saw you on my rear, and was told that cops out here like to ride your rear to try and get you to speed up and then they write you a ticket. Being as that I’m from California, I expected to get pulled over at the first opportunity possible, thus even more so a reason to follow the letter of the laws.” He half chuckled and said that it was the state cops and not him. We both know that he was full of shit. But at least we had that bit of an understanding.

He asked how long I was going to be in town and where I was to be staying. I told him, then explained why I hadn’t gotten over right away. “Being a woman, and especially being a woman with children in the car, I wasn’t going to get over until I felt safe enough to do so. Pulling over in the middle of a construction zone, would have been counter productive and “bottled up” traffic even more so than you are implying that I was doing by, God forbid, I was following your own state laws, by following the posted speed limit.”

He asked for my liscense and registration. I already had it ready and handed it to him. He said “Is this even valid?!” I was taken back at that, and gasped. “Of course it’s valid…” What the fuck?!!

He took it back to his car as I sat there half awestruck that the cops had become this horrible, wondering what in God’s name he was possibly going to try and write me a ticket for.

Now, he came back and apologized for the remark about me not pulling over right away. He said that he would have happily followed me further down the road in order to make me feel comfortable. Ok, so why I got an unnecessary earful, le sigh.

He said he “either yells or writes a ticket,” so, since he yelled, he wasn’t going to write me one. For what he was going to write one for, I have no clue. I’m sure whatever he would’ve given me would’ve been something bullshit that would’ve gotten thrown out of court anyway.

If he had written me a ticket, I was inclined to tell him, that he probably doesn’t bet I would come to contest it, since I don’t have to work, and I can be out here as long as I want if need or want merited it so.

Now I didn’t get a ticket, but the whole experience just never should’ve happened. It just goes to show, that you can still do everything right but even that can’t help you if you are “driving while California” in Illinois.

---***---***

02 july 06

The real cattle of the farm

So, I’m out visiting some family out in the country, and everyone except me is having a grand fucking time. This is nothing abnormal for a family function… or more specifically, my mother’s family functions.

I’m on vacation, thus trying to relax is a damn near impossibility. The moment my rear hits the edge of my chair, the second my mouth dares to close around a bite of warm food, it’s all over. I will immediately be asked to do something.

Ah, the etiquette, or lack thereof that is the common practice for some of my family. I don’t think that I will ever completely understand things. I try. But it always remains a mystery.

When I do the same things to them, I’m rude. When I respond, even when I am not trying to be offensive, it is most always taken as such/likely.

I can’t possibly ever do anything right. No matter what I do, it is never going to be good enough for these people. I mean, yes. I was a fuckup back in the day. I got into some trouble. But, in my mind I was always just a wild average kid. That’s part of the whole rebellion that’s youth. I don’t understand why people don’t understand it better. Is it that difficult a concept for people to comprehend? Apparently, here it is.

Maybe this is good for me. I mean, at my shittiest moments in life, the words just flow from my fingers. Perhaps someday when I am successful, and people read these things, my family may finally be accepting of my past choices, and realize the real me. However, some people never change. They don’t believe anyone is capable of change. Irony hides the faces of these democrats that want to try and act like they believe that criminals are able to turn their lives around.

I sigh another breath of relief… I am surrounded by family who even bitches and gives dirty looks as I am the process of writing this. I am likely going to have to password protect this afterwards.

I wouldn’t think that I’m anti-social. I feel odd though here. Even with family, I’m still a foreigner. My husband and his son, who virtually are foreigners to this place, are treated like fucking royalty. But not I. No, I am a baby machine. I am still that fuckup I was 10 years ago. People don’t change. People don’t grow up. I guess they are right for generalizeing people like this. Sad reality is, that they are right more times than not. Too bad I can’t fit in like the rest of the sheep/cattle. Baaa/Moo.

---***---***

03 july 06

Day 2 at aunt joanne’s

So now it is day 2. Things are virtually the same as before. It feels a bit quieter today. I’m actually able to sit down to eat and relax. I even got out on the boat a bit today.

My husband and my uncle spoke a bit this morning. They compared notes of big city and country living. My uncle seems to love his quiet life here on the water.

I’m trying today. I want so much to feel like I belong here, but everything feels so foreign. I get odd looks as I walk around. My husband says that I walk around like a priss now.

It seems even when I’ve surpassed their class, I still get treated like the same lowly being they thought I was before. I had envisoned things to be oh so much different. It’s funny how things remain the same, even with change.

It’s crazy how things work out. Time moves so fast, that we fail to realize it sometimes. My cousins are all growing up so much. It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost 10 years. I’ve grown, but in different ways. I’ve grown (to become more) silent.

The hustle and bustle of gossip and drinking, just passes me by. I don’t fit in here with my city talk and high tech lifestyle.

I told my uncle about what I wanted to do with my life. I told him about school, high tech gadgets, programming, and gaming. All of it practically went right over his head. I’m not saying that he is not a smart man. He is a simple man though. He knows little about the high paced life I lead. Explaining does very little.

As you enter my younger cousin Angela’s room, you see what I would think every preteen girl’s room to look like. The furniture is very a-typical of the age. There are posters of pop star icons all around.

My cousin dreams of life in the big city… of the spotlight/limelight and Hollywood glamour. Ah, if she only knew the real truth. But the smoke and mirrors really doesn’t have the same appeal as it once did. Not for me at least.

I remember being that little girl. Wide eyed, with stars in my eyes… thinking about what tomorrow would be and how much so I wanted to be that icon. Now that I know better, it doesn’t feel as grand. Money is great, but not that fantastic.

I will let her dream her dreams of taffeta, lace, and spotlights though. I don’t want to ruin things for her. The fantasy itself is just culture. Someday she may realize that it, like most things in life, are not all that they appear to be. Until then, there’s no sense in tarnishing that illusion.