Archive for May 22, 2009

Wow.. I heard a lot of things about this CD. That it was epic.. more ambitious then American Idiot.. rock opera.

So much hype that I couldn’t wait to listen to it. I always liked Green Day but was never really INTO into them.. but when I heard Jesus of Suburbia, I was like YEA!!

Love that song. Really. LOVE that song.


So I downloaded the album today off of iTunes. Generally, the first thing I do when I get a new album is to listen to it from start to finish on my headphones while doing something else. This way, if a song resonates with me, it will catch my attention.

So far, the two that IMMEDIATELY jumped out were 21st Century Breakdown :: no surprise ::, Viva La Gloria and Before The Lobotomy

In fact, I must have played Viva La Gloria about 50 times so far.

So here’s my initial thought..

I’m disappointed. Although not in the drums. Green Day should really be :: if their not already :: known for their drums. God .. their insane!

But yea.. I’m disapointed. It’s .. what’s the word I’m looking for? “Light”?

After American Idiot, I really expected this album to be more. I don’t know of more “what”.. just MORE.

Maybe a harder edge like Jesus of Surburbia.

Dunno.. I’m not a music critic so please.. please.. PLEASE don’t bitch at me, ok?

I’ll keep listening to it because you never know.. this may be one of those albums that you have to listen to a few times before it hits you.

Don’t get me wrong.. I like it. Alot. I just thought it was going to be… yknow… MORE!! LOL

I’m completely disgusted. Last week I bought a really cute pair of capris for work. They’ve been sitting in the car all week but that’s beside the point.

NOTE: I had forgotten that they were in the bag that I needed to take to my cousin DeeDee’s house this weekend. Since I didn’t want to forget the stuff for HER, I left it in the car.

At any rate…

I bought a size 16. I’ve been wearing a 16 for a while and in fact, I bought two pairs of carpis right before mother’s day that fit fine.. more then fine.. in fact, they’re a little big.

The black pair that I just bought were the Just My Size brand and from past experiences with the brand when I was a lot heavier, they ran pretty true to size.

So I wasn’t worried about them fitting. Not that I try anything on anyway.. I hate that.. normally I can look at something and know if it will fit or not.

I’m losing that particular talent.

Since it’s been bloody hot here lately, I planned on wearing them this morning because I haven’t taken anything out of the attic yet and the other two pairs that I bought were already worn.

I go to put them on and guess what?

They didn’t fit.

At all.

Couldn’t even come CLOSE to getting them buttoned.

I know..realistically.. that they were tagged with the wrong size. But it still didn’t make me feel any better.

In fact, I was so disgusted and felt so terrible about myself that I just sat on the bed and sobbed.

I’m mortified with the way I look and it’s having an adverse effect in different areas of my life.

But it’s my fault.

I know what I need to be doing and I’m not.

So maybe that’s just what I needed to get the ball rolling…

In the immortal words of RuPaul..


… so Chief tells me that yesterday Weed came into the store asking for his job back.

Chief told him no. He said he told him that the reason he wouldn’t help him is because EVERYTHING he told Weed was going to happen did.

He said that he told him what he was doing was going to Chief arrested … and it did.

He told him the friends he was hanging around with and bringing into our house was going to cause it get robbed … and it did. Twice.

He told him that he was being handed a business.. that if he would have shown initiative and taken an interested, he would have never had to work for anyone but himself because eventually, the store was going to be his.

He told him that when he did “work” :: using the term loosely” :: he never took it seriously… never actually “worked” .. that he consistantly and purposefully tried to sabatoge everything

NOTE: For instance, Chief makes his own chicken salad that he puts into containers, prices by pound and marks. WHEN Weed would mark the containers, he would write stuff like “Happy Meal” or “Polle Salade” or some goofy bullshit.

He was never respectful of customers and on the occassion that he needed to be in the store himself he wouldn’t do what was necessary and Chief would wind up having to do it.

The whole time, Chief said that Weed looked at the floor… not saying anything.

He then went on to tell him that if he WANTED Chiefs’ help.. it wasn’t going to happen until he enrolled in school and showed some initiative in his life.

I’m listening to all this and I’m thinking.. yknow, the “father” part of you is making reality murky.

I told him that it wasn’t that Weed WANTED a job.. the Crack Whore is probably on his case about GETTING a job :: the beauty of irony, huh? :: and he figured that working at the shop wouldn’t actually BE work .. considering he did nothing before.

I don’t know if I’m getting my point across but this kid doesn’t want to work. If he did.. and with his deli experience :: for lack of a better word :: he could get a job at a variety of places that are deli-related. He wants to get PAID .. but doesn’t want to WORK.

Big difference.

Chief agreed with me .. but I don’t know whether his heart did. I know it’s hard for him but you know what? This isn’t my kid. As much as I care about him and DO have love for him, he hurt me to. I lost things that can never be replaced.. he put me through :: dare I say :: MORE hell when Chief got arrested because I shouldn’t have been a part of that.. I shouldn’t have had to suffer the consequences of HIS actions and I don’t have to feel all “parental” about it..

Whenever I see this kid, all I do is think back to the night Chief got arrested.. how my house got searched and turned upside down.. the embarassment regarding the cleanliness of Bubba’s room.. feeling so scared because I had no clue what was going on and what was going to happen.. scared that the decision I had to make would be the wrong ones… the lack of sleep.. the worry.. literally throwing up whenever I thought past the next 5 minutes.. trying to come up with the bail.. not being able to talk to Chief to find out what to do.. using every ounce of energy to keep my shit together and hold the store together.

Just reliving it in type is making me cry and I get so fucking angry that I want to punch his face inside out.

But more then that.. I want CHIEF to feel that anger.. to remember what it felt like to be yanked away from freedom.. to remember what it was like to suffer a mild heart attack in the courtroom and not have either the judge or the constables take it seriously. I want him to remember what it felt like to hear that his 30,000.00 bail would NOT be lowered and the panicky.. wild eyed look he had when he pleaded with me to call his dad through sobs. I want him to remember what it felt like when he was pleading with the judge that it wasn’t him and he KNOWS it’s not him. Reapeating over and over “.. all I do is work. That’s all I do.”

Remember that and then tell me you can look Weed in the eye and tell him that all you want for him to do is enroll in school.

Because as sure as I’m sitting here getting angrier and angrier and biting my lip so hard it’s probably going to bleed.. being THAT angry is the only thing that going to help this kid.

It’s the only way that it’s going to sink in that he doesn’t have his father wrapped around his finger anymore.. or give him the opportunity to find that weak spot and pounce on it.