September 17th, 2010 | Author: trancejen
So what can I say, I’m a dirty slacker.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Ever hear that one??
Anyway. Things out here where God lost His shoes are as interesting as ever. The cats are still in constant combat, and I remain in the midst of it, holding up my pathetic and tattered little Swiss flag, screaming, “Can’t we all just get along?”
Apparently we can’t. This also holds true for the rest of the family, particularly my stepdad and… everybody else.
Now my stepdad has Ways. He has Ways that are different. He has Ways that are decidedly odd. Some people might call picking up the pepper shaker and moving it twenty-four times OCD, some might not, and I don’t judge; but let’s just say that the man has Ways.
As residents of Stepdadlandia, we are not allowed to let a dirty dish touch the sink. Each dish or glass or fork must be washed after using it, and I do mean directly after using it, as in you had better not let that dirty fucking fork make contact with that sink, because he can both hear and SMELL it happening and will freak out like you have never seen a human being freak out.
As a resident of Stepdadlandia, I am not allowed to go barefoot, even in the house. He thinks that this practice is dirty and unclean and doesn’t allow it. This breaks my free-footed heart.
As a resident of Stepdadlandia, one is not allowed to lie on the couch. He even glares at us when we sit on it.
Read that again.
Is a couch not expressly made for lying down or sitting?
This is what I believed lo, these many years. Apparently I was wrong.
Anyway, couch-lying is what bred what I have come to refer to as The Great and Terrible Rift between the J-Man and the Stepdad.
I know about the couch-lying rule and even the mistrust regarding couch-sitting because I have lived with my stepdad before. The J-Man, however, was not as well-versed; and one evening he wandered into the living room, saw something he fancied on TV, and innocently stretched out on the couch.
What followed caused me to drink for four days straight.
“GET OFF THE COUCH!!! YOU DON’T LAY(sic) ON THE COUCH!!! EVER!!!!”
The J-Man immediately burst into tears. I would have done the same thing, as the preceding speech was uttered with such vehemence and venom that the neighbors undoubtedly leapt from their sofas in tears.
My mother glared. “You didn’t need to do that.”
I glared, thinking, “You’re a ferocious crap weasel.”
I immediately went into the J-Man’s room to find him sobbing on the bed, and attempted to soothe him. Unfortunately this was not the J-Man’s first run-in with the Stepdad, whose theories on child-rearing lean toward the militant – much different from my free-wheeling ways.
The J-Man is a pretty damned good kid. He doesn’t really require military rules and regulations, in my humble opinion.
“Grandpa hates me. I want to move.”
“Grandpa doesn’t hate you.”
“Yes, he totally does.”
I talked with him for a while, trying to convince him that no, Grandpa didn’t hate him, put him to bed, and steeled myself to deal with Herr Stepdad.
“You know,” I said, “That was completely unnecessary.”
“He knew,” he shrugged. He knew he wasn’t supposed to lay (sic) on the couch.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I’ve told him before.”
“Maybe he forgot, because most people in most houses lie on couches. He’s in his room crying because he thinks you hate him. You are really hard on him quite a lot.”
“Well, you spoil him, Jennifer. Why don’t you just put a bib on him so he can be even more of a pansy.” (for the record – being a pansy: not playing football)
“I HEARD THAT!” suddenly flew from the back bedroom. The J-Man was wide awake, which is something I should have assumed.
I was so full of rage I could have spit lava.
I went to once again soothe the now-furious J-Man, which took a good hour, and then went to the local watering hole without saying a word.
I’ve been pretty reticent with the Stepdad ever since, and the J-Man is pretty much silent when he’s around. I don’t blame him.
So things are pretty tense over here in Stepdadlandia.
I’m trying to figure out a way to deal with this situation without pulling a Farrah Fawcett Burning Bed, but nobody can talk to the man. He’s always right.
I feel for my son. I can’t imagine what it must be like to know your grandfather feels that way about you.
Maybe this move was a mistake.
I don’t know.
Anyway, that’s what’s been happening here at mi casa.
Happy Friday.
Your stepdad’s an asshole.
Jeebus…
Stepdad does not sound like a person who should cohabitate with other humans. Because He Has His Ways. Territorial much???
Is there a TV in the TranceBasement? Could the J-Man watch TV down there and lay on a couch? Because if StepDad Has His Ways, there must also be ways around the ways.
Yeah.
LaughingMuse, yeah, I have the basement to myself, and the couch is ON. Thankfully, he is down there with me most of the time.
Sounds like Stepdad needs a serious ass-rod-ectomy. And stat.
Ugh.
He doesn’t have OCD, he has CDO, thats how anal he sounds.
Do you have any zanax or prozac in the house? Can you slip it in your Stepdad’s food or drink?
Okay… The couch thing? Pretty uptight stuff.
We of the “Cannot Afford A Place Of Our Own” club salute you.
Let the J-Man know: Stepdad’s behavior reflects far, far more on Stepdad…than it does on J-Man.
Stepdad sounds like a bully. It might be good to remind Stepdad that someday J-Man is going to be bigger than Stepdad and will kick his ass
Is moving back to the old place any possibility at all?
Damn. That’s way out of order on Stepdad’s part. I hope things calm down.
The next time stepdad leaves the house please go barefoot into the back yard, walk about for 10 minutes or so and go rub your feet on his pillow. Then lick all the forks in the kitchen drawer and put them back.
This will make you feel better.
Is there any way at all that you guys could move with someone else? I’m sorry that your stepdad is being such an ass! Is mom still enjoying the move/or is she not sure yet, either?
“me” – I am laughing my fucking ASS off at your suggestion.
And no, moving again just isn’t an option right now, guys. Things have sort of mellowed, though. We’re making it work a la Tim Gunn.
Well Goddamn Jen. I KNEW something was up in Tranceland because of your silence. I KNOW your stepfather too well. I grew up in that kind of tyranical household with my own father. He would scream at me for scraping the tines of a fork across my teeth while eating and yell about taking a shower any longer than literally one minute, et al…
So sorry for the J-man, I truly am. GRRRRRRR for finances being something that makes anyone have to deal with this kind of situation, but I DO understand. Your basement is now the refuge for both of you and I had to do the same thing. It’s gonna take time (and I see you understand this) to help J-man build his armor against this guy, but in the end it will let the J-man understand better how to deal with idiots like this. Your stepfather is obviously mentally ill (not that he will ever admit it)so until you can get out of there (and you will)keep your wonderful boy close to you and teach him how to let the hurtful words slide off his back. I’m so sorry for your situation, I really am. Be strong and know that you are Better than Stepfather from Hell.
– John in Phoenix
What does your mother think?
Jen, maybe you just need to get a clue. You’re 30 something years old living with your parents and blaming them for your problems. If you don’t like the living situation, move out. I mean come on, grow up. Its like everyone is always attacking you, look in the mirror dude. What are you doing to help yourself? Nothing. Bitching and complaining. Not much better than someone on welfare. You have a college degree, grow up! Not even going to get into the lies you spoke of me, in your “dump” post. Maybe I didn’t want to see you anymore because I felt that you need to grow the eff up! To all your “fans”, just enablers to your pathetic basement living life. Once again grow up! Always, Mr. Tall
Yikes, how did you ever let HIM get away, Jen? May you always be blessed with good health, Mr. Tall, along with all the other fine things in life–a steady paycheck, roof over your head, etc. Sure don’t want to hear you bitching if you ever don’t have it all.
@Mr. Tall (who is acting very small and pathetic)
As a long-time reader and “fan”, unless you’ve read every post and every comment you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. We are not afraid to confront Jen if we disagree with her or her choices; nor do we frequently fail to offer unasked for advice.
Perhaps you are unaware of the purpose of a personal blog as it would appear you don’t often associate with the average human based on your lack of common compassion. This is HER place to vent, complain, bitch, cry, and share her feelings and experiences happy or otherwise. What one chooses to write or not write isn’t the sum total of who they are.
We are honored that she shares her writing with us. And not because we are mindless minions but because many are her personal friends and others like me, who admire her courage, and her realness.
What are you trolling here for if you think she’s so pathetic anyway? Go find someone else to judge so the judging can hurry up and get back around to you.
Lies?
I’d like to hear tell of these lies.
Anyway, sorry ’bout the sudden Jerry Springer episode in the comments, kids.
Dear Mr. Tall,
Obviously you’ve not been schooled in Break-Up Etiquette:Blogger Edition..so let me give you a lesson.
The rules are very simple..
1. The blog has been here looong Before you and while you enjoyed a brief cameo, that cameo does not give you any commenting rights. Even lurking rights are somewhat of a stretch.
2. Commenting with immature trash talk on said blog is the online version of walking into a room of Jen’s pals and talking shit, no one is going to take your side and you just wind up looking like the dumbass who needs to “grow the eff up”
And since I am not mature whatsoever, I add this: You, Mr. Tall are an asshole..he made her kid CRY, if this were my blog, this would have been a complete bashery of Herr Stepdad in the most colorful words I have at my disposal with an extra helping of Ways I would Love To Make Him Suffer for having the audacity to get all nut job on my kid. The fact that Jen respected the man (and the crazy troll logic that defines his fucking regime) enough to not cram his testicles down his throat while hissing, “who’s the pansy now?” is pretty ‘grown-up’.
Mr. Tall, may you never have seizures and blindness.
Though if karma DOES exist…
That can’t actually be *the* MR Tall, because Jen wouldn’t date an asshole like that. Anyway, *it* should be blocked from here.