My family is… complex, to say the least. I have a handful of step-siblings, and a handful of half-siblings, some of which I’m not even related to, by blood or by marriage. It’s just easier to give them the title, rather than explain how exactly they are a part of my life. Continue reading “Little Brother”
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt 4/1/2016 | Colorful
What the hell is your style? Recently, I witnessed a ridiculously petty Facebook argument between Kyle’s sisters, two fully grown women. The younger sister posted a picture of her and her boyfriend, and the older sister commented, “Shirt stealer.” Now, the shirt wasn’t really hers, she was just pointing out that they wear similar clothing (they always have)… well, duh, they are sisters. This caused a back-and-forth sisterly squabble, which spanned days, and got pretty nasty. There was name calling, bringing up personal shit from the past, and other aspects of their lives that had nothing to do with the shirt. The older sister accused the younger of “stealing her style“, which I thought was strange, because neither of them really dress in a unique way, certainly not enough to warrant saying they have a “style” of their own.
They both wear jeans and leggings. Plaids, patterns, and solids. They both wear leopard print a lot. Teals, pinks, reds, beige, black… nothing unique at all. Nothing cutting edge, or trend setting. I believe if you were to classify their style as anything, it would be “basic“. But this got me thinking… do I have a style? Well, the answer is no, of course. I spend most of my days as a stay-at-home mom wearing pajamas, or yoga pants, with t-shirts. All the t-shirts. I have two pairs of jeans that actually fit, which I only wear out if the place I’m going to is too nice for yoga pants. But have I ever really had a style? Did I ever fit into a category? I’m not sure.
I’ve always been a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, never really one to get particularly dolled up, but the style of jeans and t-shirts that I wore varied with my various life phases. Jeans and t-shirts are a style, right? I’ve never stuck to one particular thing. I was never labelled in high school as a prep, or a goth, or emo. I was always just me. Just Jan. I wore band t-shirts if I wanted to, or a graphic tee, or something with lace or some other detail. Changed my hair and make up constantly. I always wore jeans. Flare, boot cut… I never even owned a pair of skinny jeans until I was 19, and didn’t own a pair or leggings or yoga pants until I got pregnant, but that’s pretty much all I wear now. Nothing original. No one is original.
Well, maybe Lady Gaga. But anyone who says that someone is “stealing their style” is being petty, because they got their style choices from someone else, who got it from someone else, who got it from a magazine, which was inspired from someone else. Nothing is original.
Wearing jeans with a plaid shirt is not “your style” for others to steal. Neither is leggings and a tunic shirt. They are just STYLES. Not YOUR style.
I’m not really sure where I’m going with this. I just thought it was amusing.
Anyway, thanks for reading, friends.
The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt 2/14/2016 | Thanks, Hindsight
“How is the year shaping up for you so far? Have your predictions come true, or did you have to face a curve ball or two?”
This year started out rough, and hasn’t showed any signs of improving thus far. The optimist in me wants to believe that, even though it had a rough start, it will be a better year than last year… but the realist in me knows that will probably not happen. That’s just how it goes for me. Unless Kyle and I find some way to get away from the toxicity in this area, then it just won’t happen. I’m tired of people telling me things like, “Life is what you make it.” and other similar, meaningless phrases, when that simply isn’t true. Why on earth would I want to put myself through these types of things? Or my family? Life can be shit sometimes, and more often than not, I didn’t make it that way, and can’t do much about it.
If there were one thing that I wish I could have seen coming, it would be all of this unnecessary, ridiculous drama with Kyle’s family. Specifically, about this car situation, which we are finally done with. If you don’t know about all of that, you can read about it here. Kyle’s mom took the Journey off of our hands, and we have our Lincoln, and that is that. I should have seen it coming, as his family is comprised of mostly controlling, overly dramatic women, each generation more petty than the previous one, and they have always ganged up on him, twisting his words, digging up things from the past, and purposely trying to make him angry. They do it with each other as well, constantly fighting and being immature, but whenever Kyle is around, he is their target. Always. There is no reason for it, and it is usually unprovoked. There isn’t a damn adult in the whole bunch, I swear. You may think I am biased, as Kyle is my partner, but rest assured, when he is guilty of being an ass, I call him out on it myself.
Let me give you a little background. Before Kyle and I met, his family was brutal. His grandmothers, specifically, can be just awful, and they passed that down to his mother and aunts, who then passed it down to his sisters. No joke, it is a trickle down of pure bitchiness. When we started dating, his sisters eased up a bit, but his mom was… insane. There is an age difference between Kyle and I of almost 5 years, but he was 18 and legal when we started dating. His mother was not okay with this, despite letting his sisters, who were 22 and barely 16 at the time, go wild. I don’t even drink, and neither does Kyle, but she was convinced that I was going to destroy his world. Or something. She even used an app to track his iPhone, and would drive to wherever we were hanging out, and stalk us. Even in broad daylight. Let me remind you, he was 18 years old at the time. His oldest sister already had a child, and the youngest was mouthy, sleeping around, and drank constantly. All under her roof. Heck, when the youngest was nearly 17, she had a pregnancy scare from a one night stand during a party at her mom’s house, while she was out of town, and her mom was a little too okay with it. Yet when we excitedly announced that we were expecting our son a few years later, we faced a lot of harsh criticism and skepticism from the entire family, despite having a place of our own, steady income, and a strong relationship.
They eased up a bit once they realized that I wasn’t going anywhere, because they saw that I didn’t allow that kind of garbage to happen around me, especially when he doesn’t deserve it, and I spoke up. They have since stopped caring. Half of the time, it seems like they are joking, but I know better. They don’t drag me into things, and leave me out of aggressive group conversations, I think because I am intimidating or something, which has worked out for me. Unfortunately, since I do get left out, I have to hear everything from Kyle secondhand, and he doesn’t seem to realize that I know when he is lying to me, or stretching the truth. Even when I call him on something that I know isn’t true, he gets defensive. Why? Why do people do that?
So, yeah, if I had foreseen all of this hostility surrounding us purchasing the Journey from his aunt, I would never have allowed Kyle to do it. We even had reservations at the start, because loaning/buying from family can get really messy. And it certainly did. This all could have been avoided had his aunt been upfront with us on exactly how much we would be paying, but instead, she took advantage of our desperation for a vehicle, and gave us a car that we could not afford in the long run, then hid that from us for months. When we confronted her about somehow still owing over $700 more than the original price that we were told, after having paid over $1000 into the loan already (not even including the $1,100 that we’ve put into it in repairs, because we were lied to about the condition of the vehicle by everyone who already knew), she got defensive, and dragged Kyle’s grandmother and mother into the conversation, where they had no business being. Instead of owning it, and handling it like an adult, she acted like a child, and pulled two more immature parties into the situation, who did nothing but spout out ignorance, and ask bad questions.
That was what pissed me off.
His grandmother even took is upon herself to inform Kyle’s aunt that we were planning on getting rid of the Journey, and were looking for a new car. The kicker? She didn’t know that. Nobody did. We had decided the night before that we were going to do that. She was just trying to create drama, and she succeeded. In the days following, just like the month before, we were called ungrateful, among other things, for not wanting the vehicle anymore. I think they were just upset that they were losing a small amount of control that they had on us.
So, no, this year is not going as well as I had hoped, and I refuse to believe that it will get much better. Whenever I try to be positive, and let any amount of hope into my life, it all comes crashing down anyway, and I end up hurt and disappointed. So why bother?
Damn, I got myself all worked up writing this post out. Crazy families, man. What can I say? I’m going to go watch some Flashpoint on Netflix with my fiance (amazing show, check it out), and enjoy the last few hours of Valentine’s Day. Hope you’re all having a good day, however you choose, or don’t choose, to celebrate.
Thank you for reading, friends.