Spin Me I Pulsate.

Because she knows me only too well, I received this stunning piece de resistance for my birthday:

Am I a dork because I love this type of thing? Or am I a dork because I find it interesting that Spam is actually real meat?

Spam-great bedtime reading...

Labels: my birthday, Nat, spam

Posted by thordora at 2:17 p.m. | Permalink | Pulses Taken:

Years ago, a scared 17 year old gave birth to me at 2:16am on this day.

I often wonder how long I stayed with her, or if they took me away from her immediately. Did she sing to me? Did she kiss me, and love me, really want me, despite her parents urging me away? Or was she glad to be rid of me, blessed with the knowledge of what her life would have been?

My birth mother told me she had miscarriages when she was trying to become pregnant years later, and she wondered if it was a punishment for having me and getting rid of me. She told me that on this day every year, she would get pleasantly drunk and pass out, waiting for the 25th to go away. She wondered who I was, where I was, if I was happy.

I remember telling her that I was, and that what happened, my other mother dying, my life turning to shambles, wasn't her fault. We couldn't fix it, or stop it. Life just is.

I was parenting even my biological mother wasn't I? She wanted so badly for someone to tell her what she did was the right and good thing to so.

And it was Jane, it was. My mother loved me so fiercely, I know that she did. My parents waited and prayed and begged for me, and I arrived, because of you. My mother celebrated my life on my birthday however she could, and I wouldn't trade those memories for all the money I could spend. I was happy then, so long ago.

I'm thinking about my mother a lot today, both of them really. I miss the mother who hid my presents around the house, letting me leave the dinner table to search. I wish I had a relationship with my birth mother, I wish I had that "mother" idea in my life right now, to share all my joy and heartache with.

I'm almost 30. I never imagined I'd live to be 30. The last ten years have been, thankfully, free of trauma and pain, unlike the 10 or so before it. Today the sun is shining, and while I mourn for what I have lost, I can also embrace the fact that years prior, a girl had to make a choice that ultimately affected how my life played out.

She made the right one.

Labels: mother, my birthday

Posted by thordora at 11:17 a.m. | Permalink | Pulses Taken:

So, I'm sitting here, procrastinating part of my morning away at work. I still have to go grab a coffee, so I spend the time reading my feeds, going thru my links, eating an All-Bran bar which actually tastes good. (I shit you not. I'm officially addicted to the things, and my bowels seem rather happy about that.)

I look at the calender, where I see 4 happy little "OFF" words on my work days this week. The Dorf's bestest friend is/has gotten married, and he's off to the reception this week. (they're getting married in Scotland the bastards, and it's only them and their witnesses since the rest of us are broke. Wait, they have twins, so I don't know how they did it.....)

He even went a got a suit. Fucker. He's never worn a suit for me, but his friend tells him it's a FORMAL affair, and off he goes.

Anyway, I look at the dates and realize I will basically be ALONE with my children for a week and a half. Not a few days. A WEEK AND ONE HALF.

What in the FUCK will I do with them for that long? We don't have a car (on purpose-we're cheap hippies that way) and the transit system here is so bad it's not even funny. Going to the mall is about as amusing as poking myself in the eye with my crochet hooks. We've been to every park within a 30 minute walking radius.

I'm good for my three days a week of my children. I love that I have that. But I am so NOT a housewife it isn't funny. Too long around my kids and I go batty. Simply put, I NEED adults around me, or at least people pretending to be adults. I don't know how I will hack this.

And when I think about it, I know that if I dumped the kids on HIM for this long, he's go batshit. He really would. So I'm getting a little pouty about the entire thing....

On another note, Vivian ratted me out to her Dad this morning as they talked about my birthday present. Vivian starts talking about "Martian Manhunter" and then says

"That's what we got you Daddy!"

followed by

'I'm not supposed to tell you Daddy."

Thanks kid...thanks. So now I have to figure out some OTHER surprise to get for when he comes back (his birthday is at the END of this week). Everything he likes is generally only found on the internet, and I have no Credit Cards. So I dunno. Maybe I'll buy him some porn.

Guys, is porn an acceptable birthday present? If so, what kind?

Oh, it's gonna be a great week isn't it...

Labels: my birthday, porn, The Dorf, trip, vivian

Posted by thordora at 10:10 a.m. | Permalink | Pulses Taken:

My birthday is on Monday, and The Dorf keeps tormenting me by reminding me that my present is "a good one, and I better not ever call him cheap after this one"

While I'm hoping that means I'm getting this, I sorta doubt it.

So I'm on messenger with him earlier, and he's talking about going to get his comics tonight, and make a pithy comment about him hitting the sex store for a present for me. I get the "it's not your birthday" speech.

Whaaa? So?

I tell him I always deserve presents, and he laughs before returning to burning CD's. Now yes, he already got me my Made Out Of Babies shirt (LOVE IT!), and I got him his Voivod one, but frankly, I want more presents.

And I've always felt badly about that. I'm supposed to be a modern girl who renounces material things. Of course, that goes out the window with this dress, which incidentally, would go great with my cute shoes. I have trouble being the girl who wants nothing. She doesn't get along with the girl who wants to be spoiled.

Should I expect more gifts? I can never figure out if it's shallow to want some actual tokens of affection. I know, I should appreciate that I have a guy who loves me, loves his kids, stays home with them, blah blah blah. But once in awhile, I'd like a surprise, flowers at work, chocolate that he doesn't eat if I don't eat it right that minute, something, anything.

It's terrible, I know. I try and resist, but I still always hope that just once, I'll walk up to our bedroom and find a SURPRISE.

I try to surprise him when I can, which is difficult without a creditcard since he doesn't like anything I can get him around here. And I don't believe it's only a man's job to do this crap. He just rarely if ever does it. And having to do it for a birthday/anniversary/Xmas, etc takes all the fun out of it.

Peeps, tell me if I'm being shallow. But also remember that I'm a girl who writes him love poems before ye judge.

Also remember that I like presents, and did I mention it's my birthday on Monday?

Labels: gifts, my birthday, The Dorf

Posted by thordora at 5:12 p.m. | Permalink | Pulses Taken: