Happy Crappy Mother's Day!

My mom sucks. 

Today is Mother's Day, and I won't be seeing her or talking to her. I did print out a card and have all the kids sign it, and I did sign it as well, and I did send school pictures. 

Months ago, my mom sent me a letter detailing the ways I had hurt her feelings over the last several decades. The list was not all-inclusive, but went over some of the highlights of our awful relationship.  I responded to that letter in my head, on paper, on my computer, dozens of times, but deleted it every time. My mom and I don't have civil discussions, no one changes their mind about anything, and that's not all her fault. 

Instead, I wrote her a letter I'd never send, right here in this safe space. 

Recently I discovered my family has been getting together and not inviting me, not just once; it is a pattern, one that apparently will continue. At Christmas time, my daughter invited everyone over for Butter Beer and snacks on Christmas Eve. My brothers and mom couldn't attend because they had already made Christmas Even plans - dinner at my brother Phil's house. I don't know if I would have gone had I been invited; Christmas Eve is my favore part of the holiday with the kids' anticipation reaching a peak. But my youngest brother was in town and I may have changed our plans if they had invited me. But they didn't. 

Then a few months later, I found out my sister-in-law had thrown my younger brother a 40th birthday party, and the whole family had gotten together, again, without me. I was crushed; I spent a whole day of work crying between phone calls.  before my work day started, I burst into tears on my husband's shoulder, and my daughter interrupted me to ask me to braid her hair for an interview she had for Upward Bound that day.  I dried my tears, but when she asked me what was wrong, I told her. 

I really couldn't see why they weren't inviting me, other than my mom being annoyed with and disappointed by me, which is completely our norm. Nothing had happened to escalate our mutual disappointment and anger with each other. It was baseline. 

UK Shameless vs. US Shameless

POSSIBLE SPOILERS

Image from: http://shameless.wikia.com/wiki/Frank_Gallagher

I'm an unabashed Shameless fan.  I love the US version and am up to date on that. I also love the UK version, but I have not finished all episodes available on Hulu quite yet. After a lot of episodes of both, I have come to the true conclusion that the Brit's version is better, although there are characters I like better on the US version.

I find the UK version to be more real.  Chatsworth Estate IS poverty. Cramped, dingy, neighbors right up your ass. Crime is rampant; in fact, the Maguires (Milkovich's in US version), a crime family, live right next door to the Gallagher clan. The characters are much more down to earth and believable.  Not every one is a gorgeous human being with a perfect body; they look like people you'd see walking down your street, not standing next to a Hollywood star or walking the red carpet.

The Gallaghers may be down and out in the US version, but they have a huge house I would love to have for my large family.

Frank Gallagher in the US version is pretty much just a huge piece of shit most of the time, using his children, not caring for anyone but himself.  UK's version has a lot more nuance and is more than the caricature portrayed on the US show. He has feelings, he actually does care about his children, but is still a piece of shit. He's got the red cheeks, the gin blossom, and greasy hair. William H. Macy is amazing and I adore him, but he looks too good to be an alcoholic.

So, UK Frank wins it for me. As for the other characters:

Fuck your prayers

I am having a hard time working today. I do customer support through chat, email, and phone, and I find myself crying off and on all morning.

I am so hurt and so angry at our government and many of our people. I just find it so disheartening that while our children go to school and get murdered, you are more interested in keeping your guns.

NO ONE HAS EVER COME FOR YOUR HAND GUNS OR YOUR HUNTING RIFLES. NEVER.  Obama had eight years and despite your idiotic tropes, he never took your guns.

You care more about your right to own weapons of mass destruction than you do about my kids' right to go to school without worrying where they'll hide from a shooter. My fucking family members care more about it than they do about my kids, their own kids. It's...sick.

I am so proud of the kids at the school. David Hogg had me sobbing through my stretching at the gym the other day when someone ill-advisedly turned on the news in the fitness room. They are leading the way this time, and I want to hug every one of them. I want to assure them that someone does care about their friends dying.

I saw a tweet suggesting we all keep our kids out of school until our government decides their lives are important. I would support that.  Maybe even just a day. I don't know what to do at this point, but I sure as hell won't be praying for change. Even the mythical Jesus said you have to do more than pray. Pray, then DO. THE. WORK.

Regret-free Abortion

Today is Roe V Wade's anniversary. The other day our shithole president addressed March for Life (butlolfuckyouifyouarealreadyalivingchildorwomanonthisplanetespeciallyawomanorchildofcolor) protest, claiming he gives a shit about the lives of children and women. Women called bullshit, of course.

Women aren't going to stand for his dumbass bullshit, trying to drag us into back alleys for our abortions. And in case you didn't know Dump was a flaccid flip flopper, here's proof he is lying to his redneck anti-woman base.  

So if you believe Dump is anti-choice, you're wrong. I bet there are dozens of women who have expelled Dump's nasty cell clumps from their uteri. I mean, christ on a cracker, we can't have more Don Jr and Erics and Ivankas running around. That's fucking disgusting. 

I have had two abortions and I have not had a single moment of regret. The first guy who impregnated me was abusive, and he was excited about the pregnancy. He wanted the baby, way more than he wanted me. He wanted to marry me. He also barred me from leaving a room when we got into a fight, and pinned me to the wall. He also cheated on me during our brief summer fling. I had no doubt that I would be having an abortion, and I did. I dodged a big bullet with him.

The second time was with a boyfriend that I later married. He supported the decision, and I don't know if he really wanted me to have the baby or not, but it doesn't matter, because I didn't.   No regrets, not a single moment wondering what if I hadn't. Two regret-less abortions. 

The situations were quite different but my decision was not and I am happy I made those decisions. The most harmful thing about the process for me was when I naively went to a Crisis Pregnancy Center expecting them to provide what they advertised, referrals for abortion. Instead a nasty old woman in polyester pants tried to convince me to keep the baby, even sent me a postcard at home, a clear violation of privacy, and called my house as "a friend." She gave me booties for my precious baby, which I threw in a dumpster.