My Past Comes Back to Haunt Me or Why I Am Not an Engineer

My past coming back to haunt me is a fairly regular occurrence. I was a wild child in my youth, and I can tell stories ... but I won't.  Unless I've had a drink or two.  Then I'll tell you all the gory details.  Sitting in your lap.  This is why I don't drink very often.

Anyway, this revisiting was from the recent past and fairly funny unless you are me.  In that case it was painful.  Physically.

So this morning, I felt bad for the furbabies (otherwise known as the hellhounds Rugby and Neytiri) because the deck was frosted over and they looked very nervous and unhappy about that and the cold weather. 

Neytiri (Tiri)

Rugby

My dogs are spoiled. I admit it freely.  To soothe the angst a bit, I decided to toss them each a piece of aging lunch meat.  I couldn't have made this happen if I had tried, but when I flung it, the piece of meat landed ON the electric wire that runs around the inside of our fence. (Please don't call the ASPCA on me.  The wire is much more humane than I would have been if those damn dogs dug out ONE MORE TIME.  I was seriously thinking dismemberment.)

Without thinking, I started to walk to the fence, then stopped in my tracks, relieved that my brain was still intact and sending signals.  My intent had been to pluck the ham off the wire since the dogs don't go near it.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  You see, the electric fence and I already had TWO run-ins in which the electric fence definitely came out the victor.  Back in the summer when Jeff (dear friend who will likely be mentioned in future posts) and Caroline put up the wire, Jeff (who was wearing heavy work boots at the time) was wondering if the fence was working, so he tapped the back of his fingers against the wire.  He invited me to do the same, and being the natural blond that I am, I did.  Did I mention I was barefoot?  Let's just say I got the shock of my life.  Ha.  Ha.  Ha.

But it goes on from there!  After I'd recovered for a few moments, I wondered about how to get the dogs to zap themselves so that they would stay away from the fence (and digging holes under it) forever more.  Certainly it wasn't my goal to torture my babies.  Much.  So, brainiac that I am, I come up with the brilliant idea to lay a piece of lunch meat (are you getting the historical reference now?) on the wire to tempt the pups up.  It never occurred to me that a piece of moist meat would be a great conductor, especially when the idiot laying it on the  wire was STILL BAREFOOT!

To add insult to injury, the ex and his wife pulled into the driveway seconds before this meat mishap and got to watch me jump around cursing and screaming when I got my second shock in about five minutes. Everyone got a great laugh until I went inside and burst into tears.  Because OW!

Luckily this memory (never far away since the story is retold often to friends and family, although not by me) popped to the surface and stopped me in my tracks.  Two shocks I can bear the humiliation of, but three?  No.  Especially not since I would be repeating something stupid.  At that point I simply walked back in the house.  We'll see if the ham is still on the wire when I get home.  If it is, so be it.  Lord knows I am NOT going to retrieve it.

Why Blog?

I decided to start a blog because people keep telling me I should write a book about my crazy life.  Since I don't have a clue how to start that process (aside from "Well, write something stupid!") I figured a blog would be a nice jumping off point.  To me, my life is not that crazy.  For everyone else looking in, incredulousness (apparently not a real word, but I'm going to run with it anyway) seems to be the thematic reaction.

Let me introduce you to my life:  At almost 40, I'm the single mother for four amazing kids.  Alexandra (generally referred to as just "Alex") is 15, Jacob is 14, Gracie is 10, and Caroline is 8.  I didn't start out a single mother.  That gig became reality after a bitter divorce from the kids' father five years ago.  Up until that point, I was a very self-indulgent, fairly lazy, stay-at-home mom whose biggest goal was to get just enough done around the house so that my ex didn't wonder what the hell I did all day long.  What I did do was sleep and play on the oh-so-intellectually-stimulating internet.  For years.  There may have been (read:  Were.  Majorly) some depression issues along the way, but that's a story for another day.

In any case, my divorce was a big, fat, wake-up call.  Today, I am incredibly pleased with myself.  I turned that quasi-bum into superwoman.  Instead of expecting my spouse to fix every situation (from a broken toilet to my once-again-overdrawn checking account), I am now my own "fixer."  That may be the most empowering feeling in the world.  I am woman, here me roar!  I parent teenagers, annoy the hell out of the local school district, parent a bipolar child, work in an office and teach swimming lessons to children, parent a grade-schooler, volunteer for my kids' extracurricular activities, go to college full time (online), and actually keep a couple of close friendships functioning.  In addition, I deal with my ex without creating bloody mayhem, which in itself should earn me some sort of Presidential award.  But again, another story for another day.

Does any of this answer the question as to why I set up a blog?  Probably not.  But if nothing else, I can vent about and giggle at my own life and perhaps somebody will get something out it.  I also think I'll start keeping track of the score between me and the world, just for kicks and giggles.  Here's one more or less humiliating battle in a long-running war:

I am an obnoxious driver.  I blame the fact that I learned to drive in New Jersey and the only phrase my father generally uttered in the car as he was teaching me to drive was "God*****it, Ashley!"  The problem couldn't possibly be that I have no patience for people doing stupid things and use colorful language to express my displeasure.  Of course, it's worth noting that I generally just vent in the privacy of my vehicle and rarely take the obnoxiousness to the perpetrators in question.

So on Sunday afternoon, I have Alex and my niece in the van and we go through the McDonald's drive-thru.  The line is long, so I have time to observe the double line of cars trying to merge.  I am 98.9% sure that I ordered before the car in the lane next to me, so when traffic starts to move, I dart in front of them feeling very justified and self-assured.  Unfortunately, the couple in the cherry-red SUV feel differently and go so far as to honk their horn and yell at me.  I remain sublimely unruffled and just shrug at them, pleased because I am right and (bonus!) that I am not cursing a blue streak since there are kids in the car.  I even glance back over my should at Alex, beam, and say, "See?  I can be nice."

I pull up to pay and reality smacks me in the face. I am out of sequence in line and the cashier is annoyed.  Crap.  Suddenly, I feel guilt for being the jerk in the situation.  I pull up to pick up our order and the guilt is compounded when the guy (gal? couldn't tell, frankly) was equally annoyed at the lack of picking up in order. I am contemplating ways of redemption, such as asking the guy/gal at the window to apologize to the folks behind me, when they HONK at me.  Again.  All thoughts of redemption evaporate as I snarl into the rear view mirror, "Honk at me again, asshole.  I will flip you off."

There's a pause, then Alex quips in a heavily sarcastic tone (can't imagine where that comes from), "So much for being nice, huh?"

Ashley: 0
World: 1