Standing on the Edge of Me

I am profoundly sad today. As I write this I realize that other people will read it and that I'm letting them in on a secret that follows me around like the stink of death on a corpse.  Being raised by a narcissist and a child molester has skewed my ability to trust my own mind when I get like this.  I really want to spill my guts to someone. Anyone. But what if I'm just being dramatic, or what if it makes people realize how nuts I really am (say the voices)??  Then again, they say we're only as sick as our secrets.  Here goes.


The reunion.  What can I say.  It was a good time.  Sort of.  The party was for graduates of the public school I attended through the 8th grade.  My narcissist mother decided her children were too good for the public school from which she graduated so in a proxy do-over, she sent me to a private Catholic girls school in another town.  So I really didn't graduate with these kids.  All my memories are from grade school.  Hadn't see a single one since I left in the 8th grade.


It's a bit strange to see people you haven't see for 34 years. Some look so different there's no way to recognize them until they say their names.  Even then all you really see is that face from like 3rd grade or something.  I suppose worse yet is the ones who look well . . . . exactly the same. But that wasn't the hardest part. 


The hardest part was answering the same question over and over: how's your mom and dad?  How exactly do you explain to people why you have not a damn thing to do with either one and that the reason is because THEY are the evil ones, not me.  I mean c'mon what are the odds that both parents were supremely effed up sufficient to justify a child banishing them from her life??  


I'm always torn.  I have toyed with saying things like, "Oh I guess you didn't hear, we lost mother last year."  Or *shocked, quavering voice* "I thought everyone knew, he was killed in a horrible train accident."  I suppose I could just say "fine" and be done with it.  But there's some part of me that just won't allow that, because it means letting them off the hook for what they did.  Shouldn't people know that there are monsters lurking behind the mask of wonderful parent?  Some of the girls I hung out with back then knew my mother's secret side. Apparently she didn't think they mattered enough to hide her viciousness from them.  The truth is always the easiest, or so they say.  


But the thing with my dad.  Why the hell doesn't everyone already know about that one??  It would make it so much easier.  Maybe it was the isolated character of the small town I came from.  You know, where they don't read the "city" papers, just the local weekly rag.  That would explain it I guess.  By the time it hit the city papers, only my mother still lived in the city. I figured it served her right.  After all, if she'd been doing her job he might have been arrested in time to save us.  Of course she called to tell me all about it in her sickly gleeful narcissist way, full of fake horror and thrilled at having something salacious to share.  How long ago was that anyway?  Fifteen years or more?  Seems like yesterday.


But no one at the reunion knew about my father. One by one they kept asking. By mid-event I had a stock response ready.  I have no idea.  Apparently you haven't heard.  He's a convicted sex offender and I no longer have anything to do with him and haven't for nearly 20 years.  Thank god no one asked anything further after that.  I mean what the hell would you say??  Gee I'm really sorry to hear that, how fucked up are you from that??  Yeah.  Several days post-reunion I am feeling the wave of emotional pain that comes from speaking that awful truth once again.  Oh I spent a lot of years working on this one, believe me - and I consider myself in recovery.  It was still rough.  


The other strand of woe weaving its way through my head is the grief of having recently lost my lover.  It was 12 weeks ago that I filed for divorce from my lover of 39 years: food.  It dawns on me that the saying I've heard on YT and FB is so true - they banded my stomach not my brain.  In my twisted little addict mind, this game has been really fun but I'm done now and I'd like some cheese fries please.  And bring me some Ben & Jerry's while you're at it.  A couple as a matter of fact . . . Chunky Monkey and Cherry Garcia please.    And could we please put Kettle Chips back on the grocery list instead of Greek yogurt?  


Welcome to grief 101, where I get to come face to face with old demons in an epic battle of wills.  Will I move forward and make the right choices or cave and repeat the pattern for yet another year despite having spent $17,000 for a fix??


Stick around, it's gonna get interesting.

Stupid is Forever and There's No Cure for Moron REDUX

There is seemingly no end to the plague of stupidity out there in cyber-shopping world. I've decided to start posting examples in an effort to help others avoid the pitfalls of . . . oh for fuck's sake. . . . I'm posting them because they're fun to read and I need a good place to rant about them.  There, I said it.


OK.  So the item is a Snap-On pressure washer which is non-functional, being sold for parts.  Here is the cut-and-paste of the ACTUAL listing description:

Snap On 1750 PSI 120.6 BAR Electric Pressure Washer
Item condition:	For parts or not working

For parts or not working: An item that does not function as intended and is not fully operational. This includes items that are defective in ways that render them difficult to use, items that require service or repair, or items missing essential components. See the seller’s listing for full details.

This listing is for a

* (brand name removed)  Pressure Washer

Item works but with significant problems.

Being sold as not working for parts only. 

99¢ Starting Bid No Reserve

AS-IS NO REFUND

The Pressure washer works but there seems to be a leak when the pressure washer isn't Spraying. it flood the ground at the base of the unit. When the Spray handle is spraying the leak slows down and the spray handle leaks.

Listing includes * (brand name removed)  Pressure Washer, Pressure hose, and spray gun ONLY.

Pretty clear, eh??  

Oh, and about the capitalization, grammar and punctuation in the listing?  Not my writing, so yeah. 

So the buyer gets the item and emails me saying the thing doesn't work and is leaking all over the place.  Re-e-e-e-aaalllly. That's strange. You mean like it says in the description!?!  Wow, go figure.  Of course he opens a case: Item Not As Described.  REallY??  WTF!!

Yeah and here's the best part.  Ebay gives the guy his money back.  Yes ma'am!!  Now the good news is they don't deduct it from my account.  Any disputed transaction under a certain dollar amount is automatically refunded to the buyer with no negative impact to the seller.  Oh! So now eBay is r-e-w-a-r-d-i-n-g stupidity!!  You betcha, to the tune of $31.31. 

I guess when you're making billions of dollars a year it's easier just to hand morons their money back than to pay someone to sift through the details.  I mean how long would it take to read my listing and see that the item is being sold for parts, not working and then deny his claim.   Would it take any longer than just giving back the money?  But this makes eBay look like the good guy which is the way they want it - and leaves the seller looking like an ass.  I check the guy's feedback left for others meaning his other sellers.  The guy hands out negative feedback like candy at Halloween.  OK I'm screwed. 


Now if I could leave negative feedback I would believe me.  But eBay no longer allows a seller to leave negative feedback of any kind for any buyer.  Many unscrupulous buyers have figured this out and make a career of blackmailing sellers with negative feedback.  If you're always right, why not take full advantage huh?

Since I can't leave negative feedback, I've gotten pretty good at leaving smart ass comments next to my green plus sign:

• Buyer currently enrolled in "How to Read a Listing" 
• If you CAN'T READ, you shouldn't be on eBay!!
• A mind is a terrible thing to waste - SELLERS BEWARE!

Then there is the case of the woman who paid too much for a handbag.  Look, I know it's really fun to see just how much the high bidder's highest bid is, but the only real way to do that is to outbid them.  And if you do that you must HOPE and PRAY that they outbid you again.  Not so in this case, and the winner ends up having to pay $600 for her curiosity.  Mind you this is a bag by a designer that is seen on the Red Carpet on a regular basis.  Well worth $600 wouldn't you say?   

Of course, she waits way too long to pay, so I open an unpaid item case through eBay.  She finally pays and I ship the bag.  I create intricate interior packing that allows for the tassles to remain in free suspension, because if they get mushed up in shipping the bag isn't worth $600 anymore and I'd have to take a return or give her some money back - and I don't want that, so . . . .

Within two hours of receiving the bag, she emails me and requests to return the bag "because your listing says you take returns".  Now what my listing really says is: "All sales final unless item is significantly not as described."  In other words, If I have a brain fart or my peri-menopause has misplaced my brain while I'm listing an item and I forget to say something about a defect etc, then I will accept a return - within 3 business days of receipt of the item.  Folks, this bag was p-e-r-f-e-c-t-i-o-n, so no go on the return, babe.  After I politely point out my return policy to her, she suddenly, magically finds "a few loose beads" on the bag and opens a case with eBay.  

OK I'm really hard on eBay, I'll admit, and 95% of the time, I'm justified in that. Of course just when I think I'm totally screwed and this crazy b#$%h is gonna purposely damage the handgbag just so she can return it  . . . . you get the picture . . . . 

So just when I'm feeling like I'm gonna lose A-gain, Jason* from eBay's Top Seller Assistance Team beams heavenly golden light on my day and says:  "No way, that bag is perfect!  Your pictures show everything.  I also see that you had to open an unpaid item case with the buyer.  I think this is a clear case of buyer's remorse."   **insert strains of Handel's Messiah Halleluja Chorus here**

I have to admit, my first thought was:  OK they're just f-ing with me now.  Where's the catch?  

Nope it was legit.  I got an official email within minutes saying the case was decided in my favor and I didn't have to do anything more.  

Except, of course, I blocked Little Miss Buyer's Remorse.  I hope she enjoys her bag.

A Trip to WeeklyReaderville

Whenever it’s time to deal with a new level of recovery/self-improvement/growing-up, I revisit my childhood to try to identify the origins of my toxic behaviors.  Now, in direct opposition to my Roman Catholic upbringing, I believe that we are all born innocent, good, clean and holy.  Not a member of the “Original Sin Fan Club” sorry.  Not even a member of the Catholic Church any more either, but that’s a whole other blog. OK, so I sift through my childhood looking for things that may have planted ideas or beliefs in my mind that turned out badly.  Generally speaking these are things that may have been a huge help or kept me sane during childhood, but just aren’t working now that I’m an adult trying to live a successful grownup life. 

So the things I’m looking for on this trip are things related to my toxic relationship with food.  Not sure why but I started thinking about the books and record albums I loved as a child.  I started on Dick and Jane readers like most kids in the late 60’s.  No toxic food messages there.  Can you imagine?  

See Jane. 

See Jane sneak. 

See Jane hide food under her mattress. 

See Jane purge.

The Seven Dwarfs and Their Diamond Mine, an LP featuring the story of the Seven Dwarfs post-Snow-White-kisses-the-Prince.  It’s been a couple of years since Snow White married the Prince and moved into the castle, leaving the Dwarfs on their own again.  The story starts with them getting up and eating breakfast.  Aha!  *digging deeper* instead of porridge for breakfast, they eat soup!  There’s a lively little song, The Music in Your Soup – hmmm, nothing toxic about that. While on this particular street in Disneyland, I'm reintroduced to the cover of the album, something that I loved so much as a kid: the sparkling, richly colored gems spilling out of the mine carts.  My first real job was in a jewelry store.  Coincidence?  Maybe.  Moving on.  

The Tale of Peter Rabbit.  Hmmmm . . . . Peter is an overeater and disobedient to his mother’s instructions about Mr. McGregor’s garden.  He tears up his clothes and ends up sick from overeating.  The Disneyland record album Peter Cottontail features a similarly disobedient little rabbit (read: "mind of his own) who loves to eat clover, and the song Whistling Rabbit which I'm now gonna have stuck in my head for who knows how long.  ♪♫ I've got a whistling rabbit, It whistles when you grab it ♪ ♫ 
Not much there.  Moving on!

We Were Tired of Living in a House. Four kids, the cat and the dog are tired of living a traditional house, so they move to a tree, a raft, a cave and finally the seashore collecting and packing up things from each place. They soon discover problems with each new dwelling and move on to the next, finally moving back to their original house.   The 1969 version I had was illustrated in a basic black white taupe color scheme punctuated with red here and there.  Delightful to this day, I have vowed to read this to my grandchildren the next time they ask for a story.  OK – back to the hunt for truth . . . being tired of living in MY house was certainly true, but nothing about eating in there.  Moving on.

Alexander and the Magic Mouse. Known to me as Alexander and the MagicAL Mouse until years later when I found it on eBay, this is without a doubt my all time favorite childhood book.  The artwork is lovely, as is the story.  The Old Lady lives on the top of the hill with her animal friends: a bitchy Brindle London Squatting Cat, a Magical Mouse, Alexander – an Alligator from China who loves to admire his smile, and a Yak.  One afternoon during their daily tea time, the Magical Mouse announces that it’s going to rain for 30 days and 30 nights.  They begin gathering supplies for the impending deluge, specifically “flour and molasses and marmalade and strawberry jam and pickled watermelon and ginger tea.”    

Can I get rained in with them!?!    

The Old Lady realizes that the poor townsfolk don’t have a clue about how long the rain will last, so she makes her way down the hill to deliver the message.  When she sees that it’s too slippery, she enlists the help of the Yak who also returns because the bridge is washed out.  That leaves Alexander.

                                                                                                                                                                                           

Remember, Alexander is an a-l-l-i-g-a-t-o-r and people are afraid of alligators so the townspeople run from him even though he is smiling his most beautiful smile. “There are many people who cannot tell the difference between and alligator who is smiling and an alligator who is not smiling.” Finally a little boy speaks to him and delivers the note to the Mayor of the town. By the next morning the Old Lady can see that the townsfolk are sandbagging so she knows they got the message.  But where is Alexander?? 

Finally Alexander arrives home, but he is in terrible shape and very ill.  Everyone does their part to help him recover, but it’s not looking good for him – he doesn’t even smile!  In the middle of the night the Old Lady visits the Magical Mouse to ask her what can be done.  The Magical Mouse points to a white cake with pink sugar letters reading, “For Alexander”.  The Old Lady feeds the cake to Alexander, who recovers of course.  It’s a close call for the town as well, but the wave is stopped by the sandbags and they all live happily ever after.  Voila!  Here was the connection!!  When you’re sick – eat.  When you feel bad – eat!  When you’re bored – eat! 

Well now that would be a “story” in and of itself.  The truth is I didn’t develop my toxic relationship with food until several years later, around age nine.  To be honest, I’m not sure why I first had the idea to pick up the bottle of Aunt Jemima and gulp it down.  I’m not sure it even matters. 

The net gain of strolling around WeeklyReaderville was the positive connections I found.  Hold up the front cover of Alexander and the Magic Mouse in any room of my house, and the two look like they came out of the same color palette.  Goldensepiaoliveredandgreen.  And all the characters in the stories were nice . . . well . . . except for the Brindle London Squatting Cat, but you can’t have everything, right?  Thank the Weekly Reader Gods I had those books growing up. They provided a rich fantasy world for me to escape into, and an example of sanity, respect and caring that I didn’t get at home. 

Sometimes a childhood book is just a childhood book.