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11:44 a.m. - 2001-05-13
Mom's Day and WalMart

High Tide

I appreciate all of the phone calls I've received from my friends who actually know about this diary. They were much appreciated (especially the International Call...ah hem). I didn't want to sound so low that I was contemplating something harsh, I was just in a funk. But, it was VERY MUCH appreciated. (You know who you are...*hugs*)

Anyways, Mother's Day is upon us. Happy M Day to all of those who have given birth to any form of offspring. You should be commended. Men can't do the whole "giving birth" thing. They'd pass out or cry or want to be knocked out. It's a proven fact that although men are physically stronger (in a sense), they wouldn't be able to sustain the trauma of natural, vaginal, or even c-section birth. Lucky them. Bastards.

I was in Wal-Mart last night. This one was a hoe-down-white-trash-circus-act Wal-Mart. We "ate" at the McD's (BAD CHOICE, lemme tell ya) and observed the people. Now, observing people is my thing, but never can I do it with my kids around. One couple, very pierced, tattooed, and funky looking (have to admire their style, everyone else is usually in boots, overalls and ripped t's) entered into this prestigious (ugh yuck) McD's. I especially liked the neon green big plastic kiddie ring looking nose thing, the stretched earlobe, and the cheek piercings. If for nothing else, I knew it'd stir up something within the White Trash genre itself. AND BOY DID IT.

I went outside for a smoke and kinda stood near this very normal acting freaky lookin couple. I dig their enthusiasm to be different and their normalcy. Can't find people around here like that anymore. Moreover, people who look visibly different tend to either, a: seek attention in a non-direct way, or b: just wanna look cool and be themselves. I chose B for this couple.

So, they're out there smoking, I'm out there smoking (I know, they're MY lungs...ok?) and an older couple walks by. Gramma must have been shopping for equipment to decorate her double-wide, because the comment that came out of her mouth made me laugh out loud. She said, "Boy, the circus is out tonight."

So, OF COURSE, I have to make a comment...

Half of an effort was made on this one, I don't even know if Ma and Pa Clampett heard it or not, but I ended up laughing at it. (DOn't forget where I am, ok?) I said, "I guess you haven't looked too closely INSIDE the store..."

Ok, if you don't get it, I'll explain it ONLY once.

Inside: People in Daisy Duke shorts and spagetti strap tanks WHO SHOULDN'T WEAR THEM IN PUBLIC. Men with their ass cracks hanging out in a dirty t-shirt and work boots, children with snot/food/gunk stuck and hardened to their faces while running around w/ bed hair and dirty clothes.

THAT'S what I thought was freaky. NOt this couple.

At least they bathed. (I thought they looked cool.)

So, they smirked at my comment and went back inside to resume their shopping. Do I blame them? Hell, no. I'd have done the same exact thing. Why? Because it's fun to freak out the freaks. *grins*

Needless to say, I hate that Wal-Mart. Not so much because of their narrow-minded-biased-white-trash ways, but because its dirty, smelly, and always crowded.

And, mind you, I was neither BORN in this area, nor LIVED here all my life. My husband and I went to the same h.s. together in a more civilized county of my state, where people went to college and got menial jobs doing someone else's work. Our parents were always married to EACH other, and all of our siblings are from the SAME two parents.

That's the difference.

Plus, they talk funny. People think of my state as a "Jimmy Goombah" state. Big hair, fast cars, and loud and rude people. But, alas, in the far reaches of my state, there's a's called the


which, I never understood.

How could watching cars drive fast in a circle to the right be a sport?

I know that not dying from fumes or flying car parts following a crash is more of a contact sport, but hey, who's complaining. I LIVED my own lil nascar. If anyone ever rode I-80 to work in the morning knows what I mean. It's a death-trap. Now they've increased the speed to 65, no one is safe.

So, burn animals in sacrifice for my sanity today. Mom and Dad are gracing my presence in about 2 hours and I'm feeling a bit stressed. We're gonna BBQ and force feed them guacamole stuff (my fav) and chips. IF they don't appreciate that, then I want them gone.


Because they will spend the WHOLE time criticizing me. How I teach (never saw me), the fact that I failed the GRE's (if FAIL is a 4-letter word, let it be a bad one), how I don't know ANYTHING about history or the teaching profession, how I'm a heathen for NOT going to church anymore, guilt for not going w/ my mother to HER church (God help me, but why would I torment myself over that??), and how teachers do not deserve tenure. (I 1/2 agree w/ that. I think some teachers abuse tenure. I think that we should have tenure, but be reviewed every 5 years to make sure we haven't done something requiring termination. But, I'm sure once I get there, I'm going to say, "Fuck recertification! Give me my tenure!!"

Brace yourself, its gonna happen.

So, I will try to bite my tongue. I'm afraid that I'll be so annoyed that I'll bite it OFF!!

So, hopefully they will come in a good mood (both of them...), no one fights (them has a bit of a nasty mouth and has the tendancy to verbally assault people in a terrible bad way), and they leave my fucking kids alone. (Dad always threatens to smack my kids, even tho they are good...he winds them up and expects them to just settle down. HA HA IT was obvious he never paid attention when we were kids. When we were young, he'd smack the shit out of us for voicing our opinions on ANYTHING. Trust me, discussion is my ultimate revenge. Until he calls me a "fucking idiot" and tells me to "shut the fuck up.")

And you all wonder why I'm depressed. *chuckles*

Ok, well, once again.......let's bring this back to a good point.




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