archives: November 2008
Honored
November 25th, 2008 @ 10:46 pm | Comments (2)
Filed: My glamourous life, Philly | Tags: sorority
Moving to a new town by yourself is hard. Unlike college, there’s not a built-in group of people in the exact same situation as you to befriend. People are wrapped up in their own lives and I’ve struggled to forge new friendships. One of my saving social graces has been my sorority’s local alumnae chapter. With monthly happy hours, meetings and sisterhoods, it’s been a great outlet to meet awesome friends. I’ve had some amazing experiences with these women - from tailgates to baby showers to a World Series win, it’s the sisterhood that keeps on giving.
I feel like I’ve already gotten so much from the alumnae chapter and I’ve given relatively little in return. That’s why I was so shocked to win a prestigeous award last weekend at our Founders’ Day celebration. Work’s been kind of rough lately, my family is falling apart, and my car’s about to die. When my name was called, all the negative things floated away and I suddenly felt loved, accepted and useful. I need to find a way to pay it forward because it feels really, really good to actually hear the positive things people think about you. I don’t think as a society we praise each other enough and I want to do my part to change that.
As if the award wasn’t enough, I went to the casino on the next floor up and won $40 playing Texas Tea. Something tells me I should donate that money to my sorority.
I swear I had an awesome title, but now it escapes me
November 17th, 2008 @ 8:23 pm | Comments (1)
Filed: My glamourous life | Tags:
Well. That sure was depressing. I thank you all so, so, so, so much for your kind comments and commisseration. I’ve taken the days since I found out to reflect on the situation and realize that I need to be part of the solution. I need to reach out to my sister and make her feel like she’s not alone. And if she doesn’t answer? I’ll call back. I’ll keep calling until we finally talk. Because life is short and I’m flying tomorrow, which always makes me want to get my affairs in order.
On a lighter note, before the wall came crashing down in my melodramatic world, I started my first blog post for NaBloPoMo. That effort was derailed before it left the station in part because of the sister drama but also because I am the most forgetful person ever. I had a meeting 3 hours away from Philadelphia last week and I had to call the office from Enterprise to have a coworker fax me a form. The next day she pointed out that I always forget something. The real downfall of my NaBloPoMo lameness? I left my laptop power cord in Maryland and the guy who promised to mail it back to me took two weeks to send it.
So, here’s what would have been my first post:
As I was eating my salad at one of the best buffets in the world, my father said, “Hey! I discovered a new salad dressing.”
“Oh really? What is it?” I asked, shocked that my father ventured out of his comfort zone. From the pride in his voice, I expected something unique or exotic.
“Ranch,” he replied.
And then I fell out of my chair from laughing so hard.
Teardrops on my Keyboard
November 12th, 2008 @ 8:59 pm | Comments (7)
Filed: My glamourous life | Tags: pregnancy
My adolescent career goal was to produce a night-time soap opera, probably because my family was an excellent source of storylines. There’s the cousin who got pregnant at 12; the uncle’s wife who had an affair with the aunt’s husband; the cousin who walked in on his best friend in bed with his wife; the cousin whose girlfriend got pregnant so he wouldn’t study abroad (but oh yes he did); and to cap it off, drama surrounding my great-grandfather’s will that resulted in my father boycotting family functions for years. Transform us into rich ranchers instead of poor farmers and we’re just a big hairstyle away from Dallas.
I could sit back and laugh, pass judgment and gossip because my sisters and I were above reproach. We graduated without spending time in the maternity ward, no stints in rehab and I breathed an extra sigh of relief when my youngest sister turned 21 without any of us getting cited for underage drinking. I thought we learned from our relatives’ mistakes and that we would be the generation to make it through life OK.
But now my sister, the fabled golden child, has become the proverbial prodigal child. She walked out on her husband of 3.5 years the day after Easter, with very little reason or explanation. In the months leading up to the split and that followed, her behavior became more and more erratic, she would disappear for hours at a time with a vague explanation, she pawned my nephew off on relatives with little regard to their schedules and one time told her husband to just leave him in the crib, by himself with the phone turned on, and go to work - she was only 10 minutes from their house.
We added up the sneaking and lying and figured out there was someone else. I tried to be supportive, I really did. Against my inane sense of judgment and high morals, I tried to show her that I loved her. But when I heard that last story, and after finding evidence of coed sleep overs in her apartment, I made some unsisterly-like comments that closed communications between us in June. I went to her birthday lunch in September and called her Oct. 30 to see if I could take Dylan trick-or-treating (last year she dropped Dylan off at my sister’s, disappeared for a few hours, then showed up and put him in his costume to take him home to make it look like he had been trick-or-treating). She never returned my call but I did get to see him that weekend. When I went with my mom to pick him up Sunday night, my world was rocked.
She’s pregnant.
And due in late January.
The baby daddy is a piece of crap who has already been to jail for not paying child support for his daughter. He worked for my parents and called up my mom at 2 a.m. to cuss her out for changing his schedule and then quit, making my father leave at 2:30 a.m. to do his job. I strongly suspect he’s been sponging off my sister since then.
In the week since I found out, there are at least three times each day that I have to fight back tears. Tears for my sister, who will have two kids, with two men, within two years. Tears for my nephew who deserves to have a happy, dramaless childhood. Tears for my parents who are wondering what they did wrong. I still remember walking in my parents’ room the morning after my sister’s wedding and finding my dad sitting on his bed crying because his favorite little girl was all grown up. The only other time I saw him cry was when his father died. Tears for my sister who tried for a year to get pregnant, but now her pregnancy will be overshadowed by this turn of events. Tears for my brother-in-law who loved my sister so much and wanted children so badly and didn’t deserve this.
I just don’t understand. She’s a smart girl - she skipped her senior year of high school to start college. It’s not that hard to not get pregnant. Why did it have to be with this loser???
I know this doesn’t really affect my life, not the way my inner drama queen feels like it has. I’ll just have another baby to love, should I ever get to meet him or her.
But I wonder how alone she feels. Is this POS enough to replace her family? Is she scared? Will she call us when the baby’s born?
I don’t know which makes me cry more - that she’s pregnant or that she didn’t, or couldn’t, tell us until my mom confronted her.
At least my sister makes cute kids.
(There really must be something about Chicago - I was there twice in October. And I’ll be back next week. I already warned my youngest sister.)
