A post from 5:00 am -or- The Day The Earth Turned Day-Glo

Enjoy the subtitle best. Nothing like Germ Free Adolescents for this piece. And yes I WAS a punk before you were a punk.

Okay what provoked the last 80’s classic punk tune references?

The joys of my being a (actually 18 year old) teenager combined with my mom and abject horror. No not the cool and dulcet Dexter kind where you see mom hacked to death. We should all be so lucky. So, clearly the point  of this post is my discovery cure for cancer. Not really. Need to call Hawking, go through his bullshit excuses (but I can’t waaaaalk Rachee!).
All he needs to do is present my paper to a peer reviewd group. Status but really? The gut wrenching laughter he inspires in my cold black heart. Knee-Slapper.

It’s the generational freakishness that so many are bereft of experiencing in their lives.

ADDED BONUS FEATURE:

utter creepiness, probable onset of a manic state and -are you ready?- SEX SEX SEX and FREE BEER!!! * (valid only in mainly Muslim populated countries and most of Utah)

I haven’t slept in  48 hours, haven’t had so much as a beer in the last week or so, and have not experienced a true manic episode for close to 15 years. The times it has occurred during those last 15 years have always been due to a badly conceived and mixed cocktail. Of medication. Prescribed by  physician.

The meds not prescribed by  doctor (at least to me) are donated to favorite charities: Save the Whiners: Rush Limbaugh CEO , Ahmnodt Heare for President Campaign (he uses ALL donations to help the less fortunate. Obtain sexual favors and/or votes from strippers, whores and/or mostly the same; lobbyists.  The crap dealers in Fabulous Las Vegas!  Pets! And my all time American charitable foundation : Votes From the Texas Deceased and Legalized Euthanasia for all politicians who have been CEO’s of conglomerates, any attorney running for office,  Real Estate Developers and anyone else who -by consensus of Ahmnodt’s Board of Directors and noted Psychiatrists–  Religious Nuts and people who should be considered sub-moron but now proclaim their ‘gentlemanly C grade average’ at Yale.

Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot by Al Franken

Do you even comprehend the fiscal conservatism of this candidate? From ALL parties.

A Typical YoYo-Dyne manic episode (no employee names can be used due to pending litigation)  usually manifests  symptoms in the following manner:  Sleep deficit, grinding each particle of debris and enamel from teeth, a thorough cleaning under the bottom of tables with toothbrushes and Murphy’s ois soap, overeating to the point of re-joining the Scarf and Barf Club,  re-arrange the ant hills in the front yard, rearrange  the utensil drawer..34 times, and oh shit look at the time. Still have to comb the carpets and vacuum the cat.

Creepiness and SEX SEX SEX!

Remember that cursed time when you had 5 or 6 friends over to visit and party between school breaks? You lived in a dorm on campus, so stayed with mom and her husband during vacation. The night EVERY ONE of your friends heard  the moaning of sexual pleasure emanating from my mother. Outside with hubby. In the hot tub. I was 18 remember? Completely scared for life.

Until that fab memory came back to haunt me like a Donner Party member with bad table manners. And usurped mom’s status.

Just as I was positive I could sleep (after 3 sleeping pills) it dawned on me that I could hear my daughter, my beloved Demon Seed, and her (strictly uncommitted on her part, and he has accepted it) Reno beau -playing the music REALLY loudly for 3:00 am in her bedroom.

Too loud. Got up to brush my teeth (count for today: 6 brushings) and immediately understood why the music was so loud. Yes. SEX.  Loud, headboard pounding sex.. and worse the sounds my naive and wallflower daughter was, well, moaning.

Not sure what’s more fucked up and deserved of 72 hours with no sleep. But the synchronicity factor between hearing mom doing the nasty and my daughter doing the ‘wonder where she got it’ freak on nasty haunted me. Poste Haste.

Hear I sit… loony from lack of sleep, possible onset of mania (whoa dude have you ever SEEN my Marie Antoinette outfit? The Napoleon version I’d had made up upon my diagnosis is just, too, well dykish for me. I’d be a lipstick lesbian if I switched teams permanently.  And oh fruit of my loins you are already happily bi-sexual. At 11 she looks up at me and says ‘Mommy I think I’m bi’. Please realize that she was a late bloomer and couldn’t even look at her OWN naked body until 9 months ago). I said ‘that’s great  honey. I want you to be happy! She skipped off quite pleased.

She already  knew many of my friends were/are queer. Hell, I’m a musician. Who got her professional (or in my case unprofessional -rim shot-) start playing piano and singing at gay and lesbian bars in the Los Angeles area.

Get To the Fucking Point Already!

Tried to pass along the import ideals to my daughter. She hates no one. Unless a particular jackwagon pisses her off.

But but but THE MOANING and Headboard banging.. and being humiliated in front of friends who had known  my mom for years. It Burns. IT BURNS.

Well, will never get any sleep now, almost time to make the coffee. OH GOD MAKE IT STOP. My MIND WOULD BE A GREAT PLACE TO WASTE right now. Oh god orgasms coming (don;t even think it) from two people I NEVER wanted to hear them from… Age 18…in college. Hand me that Xanax!

Oh dear god they’re at it again. Bed Bounce, How nice. Oh, please shoot me I’m only the piano player

~Just Another Run of the Mill Mom and Daughter in Reno…. but you may continue to address me as

~Miss R

addendum: IT BURNS OH DEAR GOD

 

Nothing Much

Graphic courtesy of Marcus at brainlesstales.com

Am clearly on unscheduled hiatus.

Current unopened mail in the YoYo-Dyne Email Inbox: 306. This does not count the 30 or so that have been opened and not answered or viewed.

Love you all. I do not subscribe to random or ‘please add me!’ blogs. Only read those that draw me in. Writers who are savvy, funny, and left of center. You know who you are.

The Demon Seed (aka my brilliant daughter) is visiting for two weeks. The Best.
Life itself, as in day to day, financial, physical, emotional has gone sideways on too many tangents too personal to mention.

Promise to catch up, absorb all of your fabulous words, and find a way out in another week or so.

Miss all of your emotions, tales, vivisections, views and blues. See you soon. In the words of Miss Vega…

If you want me
You can find me
Left of center
Off of the strip

In the outskirts
In the fringes
In the corner
Out of the grip

When they ask me
“What are you looking at?”
I always answer
“Nothing much” (not much)
I think they know that
I’m looking at them
I think they think
I must be out of touch

But I’m only
In the outskirts
And in the fringes
On the edge
And off the avenue
And if you want me
You can find me
Left of center
Wondering about you

I think that somehow
Somewhere inside of us
We must be similar
If not the same
So I continue
To be wanting you
Left of center
Against the grain

If you want me
You can find me
Left of center
Off of the strip
In the outskirts
In the fringes
In the corner
Out of the grip

When they ask me
“What are you looking at?”
I always answer
“Nothing much” (not much)
I think they know that
I’m looking at them
I think they think
I must be out of touch

But I’m only
In the outskirts
And in the fringes
On the edge
And off the avenue
And if you want me
You can find me
Left of center
Wondering about you
Wondering about you

~Miss R

My child is a genius. Yours not so much.

The Demon Seed just finished her last semester with a 4.0, and taking  5 AP classes. She starts at San Francisco State in the Fall. Only a 5 hour drive.

Being a proud mom is about all I can think of today.  The picture below was taken 2 years so in San Francisco, where we went to see Eddie Izzard. The kid’s been on the ball and appreciative of dark humor forever. It was her choice as a Birthday present when she turned 15.

The End

Miss R and the Demon Seed

Yours Truly and the Demon Seed in Haight-Ashbury

Jew-Child Guilt Wins Again

Guilt!
It’s what for breakfast lunch and dinner.
Eat! Eat! why don’t you call? What they don’t have telephones in California?

You know I was positive I’d get out of the whole college registration day hell and 5 hour drive (each way) to San Fransisco.  Not to mention the cost of a hotel, parking and (okay this is a plus) tasty food in The City. Just for registration, which she’d cunningly managed to miss all three times it was offered in southern California.

My absolute certainty was crushed by my delightful brilliant daughter today. How could I even doubt the power of organic Hebrew guilt? Foolish mother.

Original Plan (in my dreams apparently): Lovely brilliant daughter would arrive here in Reno about a week before starting at San Fran State. We’d go shopping and get her sheets, towels, a toaster, hot pot and all of the college dorm necessities.

Then (in this increasingly idiotic dream world) I would drop her and all of her crap at some front gate, give her a kiss, some cash, cry a helluva lot, and drive back to Reno in tears. Then I’d go see her, when she actually wanted me to, at undetermined intervals. It would be worth the drive to see her even if it were every 2 weeks.
I miss her a lot when she’s  gone.

Not so much when she’s home; she and her friends drinking all of the beer and me (the cool parent) lying to the other parents about exactly what their precious snowflakes were up to. Of course I DID force her to call in every hour to check on the hellions. Just to humiliate her in my own parental way.

No! We’re following a John Hughes movie script. Which was outlined to me this afternoon in a phone call.

The Demon Seed (see lovely brilliant daughter above) will arrive, with a year’s worth of crap, in Reno. Four days later I’ll drive her in SFSU for registration…which I will attend with her.
This was her First Guilt punch, for which she was awarded max points. After all, what kind of parent wouldn’t do this? (ummm mine?)

A week later I will drive her and her buttload of school necessities back to school (Where is Rodney Dangerfield when you need him? You back there? Shut up. I know he’s dead).

We’ll unload above mentioned 4 cords worth of dorm room filler, I’ll meet her room-mate. With my luck the room-mate’s uptight right Wing born-Again Neo-Fascist Overly Friendly parents will want to go for coffee. When all of us really need a stiff fucking drink at this point. My daughter to me today: ‘Mom! You wouldn’t leave me there and not want to meet my room-mate? What kind of parent would do that?!’ -mine-.
I replied that her roomie should be the one to worry. After all, who stashed a machete under her bed in Junior High School?
Her answer: Mom that was a long time ago.

This was Guilt Punch Number Two. A Knock-out for the Demon seed. Mom on the floor reeling with confusion.
How the hell did this happen?! My dreams. My fantastic dreams all crushed by a goth (I am NOT a goth mom), 4.0, self-aware, nutcase of a child who has spent her life attempting to prove her self-reliance.

I blame myself for two reasons:

1. Allowing her to watch John Hughes movies as a child
2. The Amazing Power of the Guilt inherent in all Jewish Children. Where do they get it?
Dear Yahweh where!

~Miss R

RUN FOR YOUR LIVES: It’s Almost High School Graduation Time

In just a few months my daughter aka ‘Demon Seed’, ‘Goth Genius’, and ‘Goddamnit Cate!’ will be graduating from High School.

She’s a good kid. In fact no one could have a better daughter. No really. All AP classes, 4.0 grade point average, ironic, funny and vocal in her opinions and black humor.

Your kid sucks.

Anyway, she called to let me know that the invites are going out for the graduation ceremonies. She gave me the list of family to be invited. We all have something in common: Love of my daughter and pride in her accomplishments.

Like any family, we have our squabbles. Some haven’t spoken to each other for years, some literally despise each other and many are just apathetic towards the others.

Let’s put it this way. There will never be a Family Reunion Party in my lifetime.

Based upon the known familial facts, and using the Scientific Method, I have come up with a graphic representing what our family section will look like at the her graduation ceremony at the High School football field:

Edelstein-Black graduation seating

Of course the remainder of these seats will be full of more family and my daughter’s friends. This is just an illustration of the immediate family. My mom would be next to me if only she liked even one of us.

I’m going to keep that seat empty with her picture on it.

There’s nothing like the American Family Ideal.

Good luck Class of 2011.

~Miss R

Division Day

My sister just called. Seems that someone sent her a link to my WordPress blog. A blog in which I spoke of our family, including her.
The problem is this: The characterization I portrayed in that piece was in no way flattering to my sister.
She is very hurt and very pissed. When we got off the phone she was incoherent in her tears.

Goddamn this. I write to write. I make additions and observations about the people in my stories to (hopefully) give them a life of their own.
I never craft a piece in an attempt to hurt anyone. Only to amuse myself and hopefully my readers.

I apologized to my sister and tried to explain that I never write anything to intentionally distress anyone. The idea that anyone in my family would see these pieces was ludicrous.
Was.
I’m a writer. I like characters. I like stories. I love to write.
Creativity and exaggeration seem to dance hand in hand. At least for me.

What do I do now? Change names? Situations? Edit every word which flows from this keyboard? Allow the people in my stories to be two dimensional? Stifle my own madness and creativity?

I’ve now accomplished the complete division of what was left of our nuclear family. Chances are good that I will never see my sister or niece or nephew again. I’ve no idea what other repercussions will rain down through the family branches.
I’m pretty sure an umbrella will not help.

I’m torn, hurt, humiliated, filled with sorrow and confused. I can only hope that someday my sister understands that I am only a narrator and window. Nothing more. Not a biographer or newspaper editor reporting only facts.

I only want to make other people laugh and think.
I just want to write.

Fuck.

~Miss R

ps thanks for the words of encouragement donna

Attention! General Boredom and Major Apathy!




Survey Says….

1. It’s 2AM on the weekend, and you are not home. You are more than likely:
dead in a ditch covered with petrol

2. What’s the last thing you spent more than $100 on?
car insurance. grrrrrr

3. What do your bank checks look like?
rubber

4. Where did the shirt you are currently wearing come from?
hot topic in denver

5. Name something that is on your Christmas wish list
peace and love for all mankind. Not really. Fuck that. A car would be good though

6. What color is your toothbrush?
what toothbrush

7. Name something you collect.
Ouija boards. And dust.

8. Last restaurant you ate at?
Legal Seafood in Boston. Nowhere in fucking Reno that’s for sure.

9. Last person you bought a Birthday card for?
my niece

10. What is your worst bad habit?
that is almost a double negative you cretin. So, I’m gonna say grammer.

11. Name a magazine you subscribe to?
Smithsonian

12. Your favorite pizza toppings?
Extra cheese

13. Who’s number were you looking up the last time you used a phone book?
Who the hell uses a phonebook? Google!

14. Who is the person that you love most?
My daughter

15. What is the last thing you cooked?
Baked Ziti with a ricotta cheese, garlic and mushroom sauce.

16. Name something you wouldn’t want to buy used?
a dildo

17. Which shoe do you put on first?
left

18. What is the last thing you remember losing?
my mind. I think it’s under the couch though

19. What is the ugliest piece of furniture in your house?
the tv/stereo cabinet

20. Last thing you bought and ended up returning?
a boyfriend

21. What perfume/cologne do you wear?
Coco Chanel or Opium

22. Your favorite board game?
I hate board games since I used to sell them in my store

23. Last board game you played?
Cranium

24. Where did your vehicle come from?
a fucking retard

25. If a movie was made about your life what would the theme song be?
over my head

26. You’re sad, who can cheer you up easily?
~c or ~t or ~j

27. What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to?
who does that kind of crap at my age? Most are on marriage number 2 and 3 these days.

28. What house cleaning chore do you hate to do the most?
Scrubbing the floors. I keep wrecking my stockings in that French maid outfit.

29. What is your favorite way to eat chicken?
heh

30. It is your birthday. You hope the cake is?
filled with men!

Currently listening:

Wincing the Night Away

By: The Shins

Release date: 23 January, 2007