Friday Wrap-Up (passive-aggressive edition)

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Dear Twitter follower, unfollower, blocker, protected tweeter, public tweeter, follower, unfollower, blocker, unblocker, blocker, protected tweeter (in that order, all in the span of about 60 days), the fact that you continue to read my blog and search the twitter stream for my tweets, all-the-while posting passive-aggressive tweets in response to what you find, and not only denying you are doing so - but claiming you are the victim - is just plain CREEPY! Your social media psychosis says far more about you than it does about me.

I know from experience, passive-aggressive really isn't the best way to handle things - seldom will it do anything other than give you a feeling of false superiority and an "out" should you get called on it. Heaven knows I've tried the direct approach with you several times, most recently with no response other than additional passive-aggressive tweets/blog post innuendos.

If passive-aggressive is your only mode of dealing with conflict, you might want to insure that you can take it as well as you dish it out. Yes, I've been giving you exactly what I've been getting from you, but at least I have the scruples and personal integrity to admit to it.

That word hypocrite that you throw around so casually? If I were you I'd revisit its definition.

*Inhales*

*Exhales*

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Cam's been at band camp since Tuesday and will be home tonight. Let me tell you, getting him there was no easy feat.

Band camp permission forms were due back in May, but because of the uncertainty surrounding where Cam would start his HS classes in the fall, I was apprehensive about forking over the $100 for a camp he might not be able to attend. In early May, I sent an email to the HS band director asking for her guidance. She didn't respond.

Cam seemed less than enthusiastic about going to band camp, so I dropped the issue figuring it wasn't worth the aggravation (imagine that)! Then in June, Cam brings it up again - he wants to go if there is any possible way. I re-send the email. Again, no response.

I follow up with two voice mails to the HS band director (who is in the HS building all summer giving private lessons) and I still get no response.

At my wits end, last Friday I called the special education coordinator for the district hoping she might be able to act as a mediator (she had been copied on all of the previous emails).

I get a call Monday morning at 11:00 letting me know that Cam can go to band camp if he has all of his forms filled out and I pay the $100 fee by 3:00 that same afternoon. I was a mom on a mission. Success was mine!

Now let's hope he got something out of it other than a story that starts with, "This one time, at band camp ..."

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I want to clarify my position on this whole Asperger's Syndrome thing as I've gotten mixed input from readers. I am not self-diagnosing, but I am acknowledging that I have many of the same thought processes and challenges that Penelope Trunk describes on her blog.

Prior to reading Penelope's blog, I just assumed that everyone thought the way I did, but were much better (i.e. smarter, more intuitive, more relational, etc.) at handling it than I was. It just never occurred to me that I might be anything other than crazy and/or a shitty person who isn't capable of being successful in friendships/relationships.

I doubt I'll ever go to the trouble of seeking a diagnosis to find the appropriate label to call "it." I'm not a big fan of labels anyway. I am who I am and I've been this way for, let's see ... 2010 - 1964 = ... 46 years! Calling "it" anything other than "me" offers no benefit to anyone, however I am hoping to benefit from Penelope's insight and suggestions, personally, professionally and in the ways that I relate to Cam.

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Weekend plans include spending time at our local village summer-fest (free roasted, locally harvested corn for everyone!), watching Cam march in his first parade on Sunday (in the percussion section, none-the-less) and catching up with those things one must do on the weekends - laundry, cleaning, all the fun stuff.

Have a great weekend Ruffians!

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HNT - Silk Scarf

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“When she was dressed for a special event in elegant jewelry and silk scarves, you'd never guess that she was shoveling manure from a horse stall a few hours earlier.”
~ Deborah Hazen

*CLICK*
(For my newer readers, the click-through DOES contain nudity and is NOT safe for work)


I received this silk scarf from Real Live Lesbian as part of a blogger give-away. It found its way to Illinois all the way from China ... and then found its way to somewhere a little more intimate than the box it was shipped in.

I love the feel of silk!




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Critically Flawed ... Again

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About two years ago, I wrote my first Critically Flawed post. At the time, I was focusing on explaining why the arguments of others were critically flawed - why I was right and they were wrong - I didn't realize when writing it just how much it said about me.

I've been trudging through the muck for years. I feel misunderstood by most people and, honestly? Just plain crazy most of the time. I want to fit in. I want to be successful - personally and professionally. I want people to "get" me and appreciate me for me (not to be confused with liking me - they are very different). I want life to run smoothly.

These past few months I've had a lot of time to work on me. For the most part, I know what my challenges are, but I've become frustrated with my lack of progress in reinventing myself. Yesterday, I had a moment, a moment where the bigger picture (which has been clear to just about everyone else) finally came into much better focus for me.

There is TONS of information out there on Asperger's Syndrome and autism spectrum disorders ... if you are dealing with an 8-year old boy. I never saw any correlation between my life and the things I was reading about/for Cam because ... well ... I'm not an 8-year old boy. Sure, I scored ridiculously high on the AQ test, but that's not diagnostic, it means nothing, right? Right??

Yesterday afternoon, Maggie sent me this email:

Yesterday's discussion on your blog reminded me that I should share a blog with you. Penelope Trunk writes about career stuff but also interweaves stories about her life with Aspergers and raising a son on the spectrum and it is totally fascinating and helpful.

Y'all know me, I'll voraciously consume anything that might help Cam and/or the way I deal/advocate for Cam. I click the link and decide to read Why I need a sick day to register my car. The title of the article sounds like something I might write myself - good place to start. Within moments I am sitting at my desk in tears.

No, I didn't cry because Why I need a sick day to register my car is about a trip to the DMV that included running over a pet bunny and crushing the heart of a 7-year old girl, in fact those few of you who decide to click on that link and read the post will likely wonder what the hell is wrong with me that I could read those words and actually generate tears. What's "wrong" with me is THAT post is MY life.

I can usually read just about any blog post and identify with something that is written - this is the first time I've read a blog and identified with everything that was written - especially the "crazy" parts. Penelope Trunk was inside my head ... and my heart.

I have always known that I am difficult, at best, to get along with. All Most of the time I come across as mean, opinionated, pompous, narcissistic and just plain rude *y'all can stop nodding your heads now* That isn't what's in my heart or my head - it never has been - yet it is what most many people see. People are just plain exhausted after having to deal with me for any length of time and will, more times than not, choose to write me off (and say less-than-nice things about me to others) rather than get pulled down with me in the muck (as they see it). If you question that for a moment, just look at my relationship history.

Yesterday, I realized I'm not crazy. I'm not a bad person. There are other people out there who cannot remember how old they are but can easily tell you what year they were born. There are other people who have a long list of social rules they must process (think of a huge flow chart in your brain) when entering any situation that requires dealing with people. There are other people who are confused when, during a conversation, people give answers to questions that aren't the "right" answer but instead are the "good manners" answer.

I may be many things, but I am not crazy. I am not bad. I am not mean, opinionated, pompous, narcissistic or just plain rude either (although I do have my moments). Nope! Not me! If that's what you see when you "look" at me I really hope you just go away - or prepare yourself for the FUCK OFF that will eventually come your way - I am not subtle either.

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