It’s that time of year…

for introspection, angst and Fear & Loathing™.

Actually it’s not bad this year, but today I’m feeling a little maudlin. I didn’t sleep well for one thing and Missy has been waking me up at 1am for some reason.

When I think about my family, there are few good memories. I’m mostly struck by the selfishness of my parents and the sad waste of my brother’s life. What triggered me today was a piece on reviving cast iron skillets. Weird, I know, but it reminded me that my mother has my Gran’s (her mother) cast iron skillet, perfectly seasoned and ready to use. I’ve asked her for it so I can learn to use it and she won’t let me have it – despite the fact that she hasn’t cooked in several years. I cook every day, but NO I can’t have it because it’s HERS. Which is typical of her. When she handed me my great grandmother’s (her grandmother) fresh water pearl necklace, I almost passed out. I think that she’s starting to realise (at the age of 72) that material things are not as important as sharing history. I had to practically rip the family photos out of her clutch to scan them a couple of years ago. She’s convinced that I sell everything on eBay. Why she thinks anyone would WANT old family pictures is beyond me. I think it’s a control thing. She’s always been very controlling towards us kids – which is the reason why she has nothing to do with me and focuses all her energy on my brother, who is compliant. I joke that I put post its on the things I want from up there when she dies, but I really do. I will have the Oriental secretary, for instance. And that goddamned skillet. The rest, I know, is going to my brother the Saint. I’ll get nothing from the estate, of that I’m certain. He’ll get all the land, the buildings, everything. I guess he needs it to raise his grandchild which I’m sure he’ll be stuck raising. Eh, whatever. I really *would* sell that shit. I don’t want to live up there. If it were up to me, I’d demo the lot of it and plow up every foot of the 17 acres. Start fresh. What really chaps my ass is that it’ll end up in the hands of my useless niece eventually.

Anyway, my family does not make me feel warm and fuzzy, they make me feel anxious and stressed out. They are energy vampires and it sucks out every bit of energy I have to go up there. But go we shall this weekend. It’s a surgical strike, in and out. I’m sorry, Nutsville friends, but my family RUINS any kind of fun I’d like to have when I’m up there. I try to make plans to see people, but when they are done with me, I don’t feel like socialising. It’s THAT BAD. So I apologize in advance for not following up with the Cantleys and the Blues. :(

And then I saw a post from this day in ’03 when I announced Missy Kat was joining us. That was ELEVEN years ago. It’s hard to believe. But it reminds me that she’s old now and I’ll be saying goodbye to her in the next few years. UGH. She’s been MY cat. She torments and soothes me. She is my shadow. I’ve never had a cat quite like Missy Kat. She’s doing fine, but when I’m maudlin, I think about death and losing the ones I love. I do the same with Nick. When my brother’s friend Aron died at work a few months ago, it shook me to my bones. One day I say goodbye to Nick as he heads to work and I never see him again? I’d probably lose my mind. I don’t know why I think these things, but I’ve always been a worst case scenario kind of girl. It’s my Scorpio nature to think about death and dying I suppose. Bleh. Bad habit.

That’s it for my rambling this morning. I’ve got numbers to crunch and money to find. BTW, if anyone wants to loan me $15k or knows a rich person who’ll loan me $15k, you know how to get ahold of me. We need just a bit more money for the pub. Actually $10k would do the trick. Anyone? Bueller? ;)