Blog Share Post
Today's post is part of Blog Share, written by an anonymous blogger. Somewhere out there is an anonymous post by me. Links to all participant blogs are listed in the post below.
Every time I get around to the time of Blogshare, I think, what thrilling, hilarious thing can I share with the people that I would never have the guts to share on my blog?
Something about work, maybe, without fear of being dooced?
For example, while I have a secretary at work, all the work I do for one of my supervisors gets done through another secretary. Let us call her Joan. And Joan loves to talk (about her child and Pomeranian – mostly), and she loves to check her facebook account, but she does not love to do work. Any work. And when I ask her to do something, she usually responds adamantly, "I do not know how to do it!" [meaning, oh my goodness, I have so much other facebooking to do!] "You will have to contact XYZ and tell her to do ____." And thus she knows exactly what needs to be done, but cannot take the time out of her schedule to do it, even though it is basically her job.
She also yelled at me one day because unlike most of the other individuals at my office, I will type up a fair portion of my own work instead of dictating it. You would think that this would be easier for her, getting a typed letter and copying and pasting it into the letterhead – but you would be mistaken. Apparently some things are very confusing.
Also there was that time she showed me pictures of herself squeezed into the ittybitty-est tight black dress while she stalked the band Collective Soul. Not kidding.
So certainly while I would love to kick Joan, I can't dedicate a whole blog post to that. Then I think, I know, I could talk about my future inlaws and oh how I would love for them to disappear off the face of the earth. And I would not miss them.
1. The fiancé's ("Jim") biological father abandoned him when he was an infant. He has never met him and has no interest. I, on the other hand, am interested. I cannot help it. It isn't really my business, but I cannot fathom how Jim is not curious.
2. Jim was adopted by his stepfather. His stepfather and mother had a tumultuous relationship, having their own daughter who is three years younger than Jim. The parents actively did drugs (mostly marijuana) with their children from the time Jim was 14. Jim's father may have had a bit of a complex, but always told Jim he would never amount to him. On more than one occasion, his father would hit him. Once, after a few drinks when Jim was in his later teens, his father started to beat on him, and Jim wrestled him to the ground in order to get it to stop. He didn't hit back, but held him down. Afterwards, his grandmother (his stepfather's mother) explained to Jim how he was now a "man."
They have recently, somewhat patched up their relationship, after his parents' divorce. His father is older now, has another young son, and seems to treat that child much, much better than he ever treated Jim.
3. Jim's parents were divorced when Jim turned 18 because his father was cheating on his mother. His mother has always been a bit towards the side of "unhinged." But apparently the divorce was the straw that broke the camel's back, because Jim's mother threw out all of Jim's childhood belongings, including pictures, his extensive comic book collection, baseball cards, anything he valued. She then proceeded to actively use cocaine and other heavier drugs. Jim stopped talking to his mother because after a break in talking to each other, his mother called him around Christmas and asked him to come over for the holiday because she had been diagnosed with cancer and likely didn't have much time. In fact, she did not have cancer. But she did do enough cocaine in the bathroom to kill a small horse, before calling the police on her son. The police saw the situation and graciously drove Jim home.
I have never met Jim's mother. Jim will probably invite her to the wedding in the fall (even though they haven't spoken in over four years.) I fear, selfishly that she will come, and that she will make a scene.
Adding insult to injury, when Jim's maternal grandfather passed away, Jim was the only one actively taking care of him. He was the only person in his grandfather's will. Or he was the only person in the will, until his mother went into the hospital with her attorney the week before his senile grandfather (he died of cancer and was on more than a few painkillers) passed away and had the will changed. His mother inherited a large amount of money. Jim waived all rights to any money and chose not to contest the new will because he wanted to wash his hands of his family and the drama caused by the combination of lots of money plus selfish, desperate people.
4. Jim's sister is 25 years old. She has a three year old son. Between the ages of 17 and 20 she overdosed on various drugs four times. She is living in her grandmother's house, collects welfare, borrowed a ton of student loans before dropping out, and yet has the nerve to ask Jim for things like thousand dollar stereo sets. Jim has given her iPods, new clothes, a digital camera, new cell phones, and all of these things have been sold to pay for drugs.
It makes me a bad person, but I actively hope that the state will take her child away from her. Jim is certain that his father would step in to raise the child. I have even told Jim, that in the event that such a thing happens, and even though I would prefer not to, that we could take in the baby. The kid is three years old and has seen more drama in his short life than anyone should.
And Jim? Mostly he handles it all so well. I try to be supportive of all his choices, even when he chooses to send another gift to his sister. Or when he tries to make contact with his mother again. I keep feeling like, this should not be this way. I shouldn't be jealous when someone voices their frustrations over having the holidays at their "crazy mother in law's" home. And yet there it is. I wish so much that Jim had something a little bit more "normal" to have grown around, but I love who he is, and so I end up torn and more than a little sad.