That’s The Trouble With KARMA…

Well hello there world. It’s been one of those weird weekends, I guess you could say. Uneventful for the most part, I’d say…

Oh, save for the part where my wonderful mother decided that apparently the ice storm we had a couple weeks back didn’t do enough damage on the power lines because she decided to crash her car Saturday morning, taking down two telephone poles and a transformer with it. Apparently an oncoming car drifted into her lane and she swerved to avoid it and lost control on a patch of black ice. The other car—the one she swerved for—never even bothered to stop.  Or that’s the story she gave the police, anyhow. She said she remembers the car and swerving and then coming to in the hospital. She remembers nothing from being trapped in the car until help arrived or the live wires around the car that apparently hindered the extraction part a bit. Nope, nothing. She’s fine, by the way. Her car…not so much. So um, yeah…   

And if you’re the slightest bit curious as to the nonchalant-tone of mine inferred by this post…well, it is what it is.  For starters…she was probably driving way too fast for road conditions…she always does. Not that that in any way excuses the other car or justifies the accident in and of itself, because it was just that. An accident. But…it was one that definitely could have been avoided, in my opinion. See, the accident didn’t happen around here, but rather it happened about an hour away from here. She was on her way to her boyfriend’s place for the weekend when it happened. In fact, the crash itself happened just about a mile or so from his house. I use the term “boyfriend” very, very loosely however. A better way to describe him would be to call him the “lying, cheating, USING, no-good, good-for-nothing douche-bag that my mother dated a few years back and just recently resumed a relationship with.” That’s him—her so-called “boyfriend.” Now, this is the guy who took advantage of and used her to get her to shell over 20 grand to him, while all the while lying to her and sneaking around with SEVERAL women behind her back for over THREE years. When they broke up, she fell into a depression so bad that she was put on/off countless different meds to the point where she was either a walking fucking zombie and completely out of it or a total crying, emotional wreck/mess. I’d apologize for being so  brash, but when you’re a daughter who’s literally had to put her own fingers down her mother’s throat to get her to vomit the bottle of sleeping pills she took deliberately and spent 36 straight hours keeping vigil at her bedside in the Psychiatric Observation Unit at the local Emergency Room…well, let’s just say that worrying about coming off abrasive or not is the least of your problems. Yeah…that happened. And trust me, it’s not a experience I ever want to relive again. Which is why this little romantic reconciliation of theirs hasn’t exactly set well with me…or anyone else in the family, for that matter…

I get what it’s like to be so foolishly blinded by love (or lust) that you’d overlook certain character/personality flaws…but this guy has no character and his personality is just plain shitty, for lack of a better word. The guy is a douche-bag of infinite proportions. Hell, the first time I ever met/spoke to the guy was via a phone conversation, in which he literally asked me the age of my oldest sexual conquest. “What’s the age of the oldest guy you’ve fucked…” were his exact words, if I recall. No lie. I won’t even bother to comment on that except to say how seriously f’d up that is. I mean, really? Who the hell asks anyone that? Let alone the 18-year-old daughter of a woman you’d just started dating? Really…yeah….douche bag. Hell, I don’t think there’s a family member of ours that he hasn’t either insulted or at the very least, offended. It’s true. And the she wonders why no one can stand him and why people are so against her and the idea of them being back together? I mean, come on. I don’t get what she sees in the guy and to be perfectly honest, I really just don’t care. I mean, she’s a big girl. She can be with whomever and do whatever she wants. But that doesn’t mean I have to go along with it.

So, I don’t.  It’s unfortunate, but I gave up trying to understand her and why she does what she does a long damn time ago. She puts these jerks first…ahead of her family, her kids, even herself. She always has. That’s never going to change. She doesn’t like it if you tell her she’s an idiot for being with him or if you remind her that she has responsibilities at home and shouldn’t be taking off constantly. So I shut up and I don’t say a thing. She doesn’t care or respect how I feel…or anyone else. She doesn’t even care that it upsets my niece, Lena. It’s stupid, but it’s also selfish…

Having said that, she could have avoided the accident altogether if she’d been home where should have been, instead of chasing after some douche who couldn’t give a rat’s ass, so to speak, about her. But it’s as my grandmother always says…she’s where she wants to be. And she is. She could have died or been seriously injured and—albeit indirectly—it would have been because of him. How she justifies that, I just don’t know.

Hell…I haven’t even seen her since before she left that morning. In fact, I didn’t even hear about it until that afternoon, HOURS after it had happened. And even then, it was handed down through the family grapevine. She didn’t even give the ER mine or a family member’s number…she gave them his. He’s the one who called my grams, who later told me. Moreover, she hasn’t even come home. She was released that afternoon from the hospital and rather than let my aunt who’d heard and gone down to see her bring her back home, she chose to stay with him. Now if that’s not fucked up, I don’t know what is. It’s obvious who matters to her and who doesn’t, I’d say. That said, I’m glad she’s okay. I am. But I don’t feel sorry for her. Not a bit. Sorry…but I just don’t.

Anywho, aside from that….things are going with the freelancing and it looks like I’ll be getting out of here and heading for Nashville very, very soon. I plan on going down one weekend coming up and checking out places. Once I have a place, I’m out of here. Gone. Adios. Not looking back. Done.

It’s a long day I have in store, so until next time…



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