I couldn't sleep last night, lying in bed for a whole 2 hours after turning off the lights. It may have been the two coffees I had yesterday, or the fact that I slept in because we had a massive Saturday night.
Or it could have been because I was counting all the upcoming engagements and weddings we have coming up.
It's all very exciting, I must admit. In the past when we've had weddings/engagements galore, it's generally been more of Hubbie's extended family, and so although we've enjoy ourselves like we always do at parties and stuff, it is nothing compared to when you are supertight with the people there.
A month ago a close friend called to tell me she's engaged, and only a week ago Red called on her return from a holiday with Mr Wine to tell me he'd proposed. I was screaming into the phone and trying to hold back tears of happiness. SOooooooooooooooo happy :-D :-D :-D
Last night Hubbie and I were on the couch, when his best mate started messaging him. Turns out his wife's bro is getting married, and the girl is also extended family from Hubbie's side. We know the couple from both ends! That is also super-duper exciting, as we get along really well with Hubbie's best mate and wife, and we can't wait to party it up with them at the wedding.
So last night instead of counting sheep, I was counting all the weddings and engagements we have coming up. Here it is:
Red's engagement in September
My other friend's engagement in October
Definite wedding in late October - friend from school.
Those are the definites. The maybe's:
Hubbie's best mates wifes bro - maybe engagement this year
Another family member on Hubbie's side - maybe wedding later this year
Then I have 2 cousins, both who are getting married, but I don't know when = 2* possible weddings later this year.
THEN:
Next May is definitely my other friend's wedding.
Red is thinking early 2013 for her wedding.
And of course any maybe's that didn't follow through this year, including Hubbie's best mates wife's bro who will most likely get married in the following year.
Phew! So many maybe's it's doing my head in,. What I do know is there are going to be a lot of engagements and weddings in the next couple of years. Who am I kidding, when the engagements and weddings stop, the christenings and 1st birthdays begin........
:-D
Monday, June 27, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Mouse-capades
***Disclaimer! Do not read this post if you are particularly fond of mice or any type of rodent, as you will not find love for them here. Instead, click onto my "Happiness Is...." posts, you will find much more joyful reading there.... Mice haters read on.***
This last month has seen the fall and capture of Bin Laden, the end of Autumn and start of Winter, and the biggest party of the year, where my sister and I organised my Dad's surprise 70th birthday.
And then there were the mouse adventures of Hubbie and I.
Yes, the mouse. The mouse that had scarred us like no tomorrow.
It all began a couple of Fridays ago.
One Friday afternoon, Hubbie and I had made plans to catch up with his boss and his wife. They were going to come to our place after 6pm, and then we were going to make our way to a local pizza place for dinner. I had to drop off some presents to Blonde's parents, as they were heading overseas to stay with their daughter for a couple of months, and so I wanted them to pass on some presents from Red and I to her.
Well, the drop-off didn't really happen. I came to her parents very dark and apparently vacant looking house, and called Blonde's sister, saying, "I'm in front of your parents!" only to find out that they had left for overseas that morning. Apparently when her mum said for me to come on Friday, she probably actually meant that they were leaving on the Friday. Oh well. Blonde would get her presents in July when she visited us here.
So off I drove back home, half-laughing at myself, thinking 'wait til Hubbie hears about this mix up.' I'd left him at home, and knew that once I got back we would slowly start getting ready for that night.
I was a bit peeved off when I got to the front door, loaded with presents I thought I'd have dropped off already, and struggling with my keys, wondering 'where is he?' as Hubbie will often open the front door for me when he hears me.
I finally got the door open, and seeing the kitchen light on, was going to call out to him 'guess what happened?'
Instead he beat me to it. All I heard was "Don't be alarmed, but there's a mouse in here."
Because of his precaution, I wasn't too freaked out. And I wasn't so surprised either. I'd almost brought this predicament onto myself, I felt, as I thought of the past few weeks. Twice the previous week, in the lead up to my Dad's birthday during my baking marathons in the kitchen, I'd seen a mouse run through our backyard through our large sliding door windows.
I'd been very suspicious then. We have a sizeable gap on one end of the door that leads to the garage. So once something, anything was in the garage, it wasn't hard to imagine it not finding its way inside. That, coupled with a big talk Hubbie and I had had with a family member about recent mice problems in our area, gave me a huge feeling that I was going to attract something very unwelcome with my worries.
I came into the kitchen, and Hubbie was definitely, very freaked out. I wasn't so much at this stage. Disgusted and shocked yes, still slightly in denial perhaps, as I hadn't yet seen the rodent.
He had actually lost sight of it. He'd been in the kitchen, and had turned around to see it's ugly tail flit across the sink/bench and behind the microwave. It had then run behind the stereo when he had moved the microwave, and now couldn't find it. It had apparently 'disappeared' behind the stereo.
I was instructed to stand and keep watch on one side of the stereo while Hubbie stood at the other, so we had all corners covered. I was getting icky by this stage and had to stand on a chair: I couldn't be on the ground if it suddenly sprung out at me. Yuck, shudder.
I was peering behind the stereo from my birds-eye view, and Hubbie was moving around the stereo, speakers and cables from the other side: nothing.
Hubbie was convinced he hadn't lost it, yet we couldn't see it anywhere. Occasionally we could hear something, like scurrying, but at the same time couldn't find the source of where it was coming from.
I don't know how he realised, but suddenly Hubbie turned to me, flashlight shining in one hand, long knife sharpener in the other, whispering, eyes shining bright "it's in the speaker!"
"How is it in the speaker?"
"It is, I can hear it!"
Then we realised. The small speaker hole, located at the base, was large enough for a freaking mouse to go through. It must have snuck in when Hubbie was looking for it from one side, and slid in undetected. 'Til now.
We realised if it was inside, we would have to try get the speaker to an outside area to get rid of the mouse. We were freaking out a bit more at this stage, especially given Hubbie was going to have to pick up and carry the mouse-filled speaker (there was no way in hell I would do it!)
I got an old tea towel that was in the laundry hamper, and he wrapped it around the base of the speaker, so that when he picked it up the hole was covered and the mouse couldn't escape. I quickly opened the sliding door for him, and he placed it in the middle of our backyard area, in the very dim light.
Here lied the problem. It was now so dark, that we could just barely see outside, and that was with our faint backyard light on. We didn't know how we could tell if the mouse had escaped from the speaker (which is what we wanted, we just didn't want it inside), and on top of that it was beginning to consistently drizzle.
And our not even 1 year old speaker was getting wetter and wetter.
We didn't know what to do. Hubbie went back outside, grabbed it and brought it in, the speaker that hadn't been out there more than a minute.
And he started to shake it. Hubbie was like "I don't think it's in there," SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE, and you could hear a faint moving inside, like the small parts of a piece of equipment jiggling around or cables moving. I stood there, unconvinced, wanting, almost, about to say "I don't think that's cables."
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.
And then with one of the shakes, the mouse sprang out of the speaker hole, running towards our lounge room. It was already a full 2-3 metres in front of us before we had a chance to react, that's how fast it was. I gave a high-pitched squeal, Hubbie dropped the stereo and began taking long, quick strides, trying to balance and cover as much ground as possible and try get as good an aim at the mouse as he could. I will never for the rest of my life forget how funny he looked running after that mouse. Never.
But of course, the mouse was too quick, and appeared to have disappeared beneath the couches.
By this stage, my denial had dissipated, and was quickly replaced by hysteria.
"Oh my God! There's a mouse, in our house! How disgusting! I feel so gross! I can't believe it! Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God...."
Again, Hubbie ordered me to stand at one end of the lounge room while he went to the other, so he could search for it beneath the couch. I couldn't stand to stand, and once again brought over a chair so I could be at aerial height.
Hubbie looked and looked. He swept the floor, beneath the lounge, coffee table and TV unit with the torchlight. He moved the lounge and the coffee table. I wasn't convinced and was forced to look under the couch as well. There was no mouse. At one point I thought I saw something move near the stairs, but then realised it couldn't have run right in front of us to the stairs, we would have seen it.
I was starting to freak out. There was no mouse, I didn't know where it was, and I didn't like NOT KNOWING WHERE THINGS WERE. NOT BEING IN CONTROL. I hated it. And I was really hating this mouse for beating us.
We went through a lot of scenarios. Where it could have been. We decided and I very reluctantly agreed, that after it ran under the couch, it must have run along the back wall there and come upon the very door that leads to the garage, the one with the sizable gap on one side. It would have made its escape, away from the two mad people screaming and chasing at it.
The other scenario could have been that it was still under the couch. However Hubbie stressed to me (after I stated that we could not under any circumstances have his boss and wife over in the small chance that there was a disgusting rodent in our house) that in a room full of noisy people a mouse wouldn't be so stupid as to run out in front of us and say hello. He said we couldn't cancel on them, especially since they had gone to the lengths to get their children babysat that night to go out with us. I was really mad and stressed. But I knew I had to agree.
However I had my guidelines. I instructed Hubbie to get any drinks we would need out from our 'drinks fridge' in the garage. Then, he would close up the gap in the door leading to the garage (from the garage side so you couldn't tell) with my laundry hamper tea towels, to prevent any mouse re-entering the house.
And then we were going to like madmen get ready, in less than half an hour, returning furniture to its original places, putting our mess away, cleaning up broken glass (a glass broke when we were searching for the mouse in the kitchen) and any other CRAP mess the mouse had brought upon us in our hunt for it.
What had become a time bomb had within half an hour turned into a well-kept, clean and modern environment. I was muttering to myself "If these walls could talk."
And so the rest of the night passed by relatively effortlessly. We had our friends over, went out for dinner and then went to my parents quickly to get some stuff, which we'd been planning to do the whole time - this worked out rather favourably for us. We told them about the story - and Dad gave us 2 mouse traps of his: one for the garage, as that's where we assumed the mouse had ended up, and one for the house, just in case it hadn't escaped. That part I didn't want to think about. Hubbie decided he'd put the house trap near the kitchen, his reasoning being that if a mouse were looking for food, that would be the most logical place for it to go.
I was whinging a whole lot to my parents. Look, it wasn't so much that I was scared of it. Yes a part of me was, although I knew it wasn't going to run up and bite me. But its movements were unexpected, and wherever I was faced with something, someone or a situation in which I felt helpless, I got frustrated and angry. This mouse had come into our house with no invite, and had made me feel all icky and disgusting. My Mum made me feel better though: "The mouse just wants food! He's not going to come into your room to look at your perfumes!" We all laughed at that, and the ridiculous statement sort of put it into perspective for me. Of course she was right. Mice went to food, and there was no food in our bedroom.
...
We were very hesitant, to say the least, walking through the house throughout Saturday. But as they say, 'out of sight, out of mind.' And we were beginning to think that the mouse had really gone, as there was no sighting of it anywhere in the house.
Sunday early morning came, and Hubbie got up to go to work. It was about 6am, but his movements stirred me, and it was almost as if I knew what he was going to do. I heard him open the door leading to the garage, and pause. Then he walked up a part of our stairs. He called out to me "the trap went off."
"Alright. Is the mouse there?"
"Yep, it's dead."
Relief flooded over me. I was still freaked out - knowing that the mouse had been in there, somewhere the whole time. However knowing it had been caught made me feel safe, and I fell asleep again.
I was sleeping so nicely. I woke up a bit about 8am but fell asleep again. Something entered my dream. It was scurrying, twitching noises. I opened my eyes. The noise was coming from under the bed.
I shot upright in bed, and looked towards Hubbie's alarm clock. It was 9.00am. The noises had stopped. I sat there, frozen, and flung the blankets off of me.
Calm down Miss S, I thought to myself. You dreamt it. There's nothing under the bed. The mouse was caught. There's nothing under your bed.
You dreamt it, my internal voice continued. You were dreaming about weird noises, but now that you've woken up, you can't hear him. Because you stopped dreaming.
As much as I repeated the calming thoughts, the nagging just wouldn't go away. I hadn't dreamt it. I had woken up and heard the end sound of some scurrying under my bed. Like something was crawling right under the mattress, walking against the walls.
I got up. I swung my feet wide from the edge of the bed. I walked to the doorway, and crouched down on my hands and knees, to scan from a distance if anything was under the bed.
When I saw the large lump under the bed I got a small heart attack, until I realised that it was just a spare blanket that we sometimes use to hang in front of our blinds in summer when the morning light becomes too bright. I moved my eyes around, adjusting to the dim light under the bed, until I came to the bedside drawer. My bedside drawer.
There was a very small, roundish object, under the bedside drawer, right up against the wall.
My breathing increased. I tried to rationalise. What could be under there? The cables from my alarm clock and my lamp? No, they wouldn't bundle into a circle like that. I stared the bundle down, knowing full well that if it moved I would scream and shout like no tomorrow.
I remembered Hubbie's flashlight was in his bedside drawer, and so I quickly and tentatively walked over there, still trying to keep a view of the floor in our room. Although it's a good brand flashlight (that you can tell from how freaking heavy it is) for some reason the light flickers when it's on, and we've barely used it. So I'm desperately knocking it lightly with my hand, pleading with it, as the light flickers on, then off. "Please work, please please please...."
Finally it stayed on. I swung the light under the bedside drawer, to see that it was a definite object, no bunch of cables there. But I still couldn't work out what it was, crouching from the other end of the room.
So I stepped onto the bed, walked over to the wall side up near the pillows, and shone the light down, behind the drawer, pressing my face against the wall to see.
And I saw 2 little eyes glinting in the light.
I started to gingerly step from one side of the bed to its end, and as softly yet as quickly as I could, I stepped off and closed the door behind me.
"Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God. There's a mouse in my room. Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God." I remembered my Mum's words from a few days earlier. The mouse had come into my bedroom to see my perfumes!
I was in full flight mode, with a good dose of fight, as I remembered the mouse trap we had in the kitchen. I carefully picked it up, terrified it was going to go off, and ran back up the stairs.
I opened the door slowly. Set the mouse trap down near the door. Checked again under the drawer. Yep, mouse was still there. Closed the door and down the stairs I ran.
I hadn't even had a chance to grab my nightgown, and I wasn't gonna chance going into my bedroom again. First thing in my manic hysteria and disbelief: call Hubbie.
I got put through and immediately spoke the words he'd only days before spoken to me: "don't be alarmed, but there is a mouse in our bedroom, under our bed."
I explained how I came to hear/see it. I knew there wasn't much he could do since he was at work, but I just had to vent my frustrations and fears, and we hung up, me sensing the dread and disappointment in his voice. We'd both thought we'd got it, the mouse. But it seems as if there was another one waiting in the wings....
I ended up calling my parents, and they came over shortly after. While I waited I ate cereal on the couch, the throw gathered around me, throwing suspicious looks towards the stairs, wondering if and when I would hear a snap!
When they arrived, I went up with Dad to do some investigating. I never intended on going too far, as just from opening the door I could tell the mouse was still not caught - the trap was empty. My Dad decided to bring the mouse trap 'closer' to the mouse behind the drawer, and in horror I realised he meant CLOSE. He was taking the mouse trap right up to the drawer, as if 10 centimetres from, against the wall. I was calling out "Dad, it will run!" and freaking out, when the mouse ran along the length of the back wall. I screamed. It disappeared behind the bed along the wall again. My Mum called out to me from downstairs "come here Miss S, don't watch." As I quickly shut the door and ran I heard my Dad calling out "well, where do you want me to put the trap then?"
After sitting downstairs and freaking out for a bit, Dad came downstairs, saying that it was going to be impossible for him to catch the mouse, there had to be 2 people in the room. I told him to wait until Hubbie got home and they could do it together. Lo and behold it was as if Hubbie read my mind. He was owed some hours off, and so took that day as an opportunity to come home to our mouse crisis. He called me, and said he was on his way.
When Hubbie came home, the formalities were few: hello, how are you - let's go upstairs. Up he and Dad went, into a room already with 2 mouse traps (Dad had set up another) to catch the mouse. I was getting grossed out when they started asking for footwear to borrow in order to 'catch' it. Ew. Double Ew. Triple Ew. Ew, ew, ew.
Mum and I were downstairs at the table, talking all things mice. At one point we heard Hubbie go "ohhhhh" in deep realisation, and I wondered whether they had caught it. But still nothing. And then there was a loud noise. I stood up, waiting to hear the opening of the door, and soon it came followed by my Dad's asking for a bag. It was dead. Mouse no more.
They told us that it was impossible to catch. Just when they went to take a swing at it as it flew out from one end of the room to another, it was gone before their arm was even coming down. They said it never would have gotten caught if it weren't for the mouse trap. It ran straight into it.
After the whole debacle, we sat around drinking tea and eating cookies, while I recounted my morning horror again to them all in full detail. It was a story I was never going to forget. We were still wondering how the mouse had gotten into the bedroom, and I suggested that back when Hubbie and I were chasing it on the Friday night, maybe it had gone up the stairs somehow, like I thought I'd seen from the corner of my eye. Maybe it waited behind a couch, and then when we were gone went searching upstairs for food. The one caught in the garage that morning, that one I believe was the partner, coming in search of its mate. Although we were pretty satisfied that being a couple, there shouldn't be anymore, we still kept a few mouse traps around: one in our bedroom, one in the garage and one in the extra bedroom.
Why the extra bedroom you may ask? Well shortly following the whole mouse catching episode, we curiously went around the rooms, and realised that the mouse that had been in our bedroom had been in our spare bedroom with the easter eggs that couldn't fit into our pantry, and had knawed through a Lindt bunny's head, leaving bits of gold foil around the carpet. It was so disgusting, but it made sense: it went from room to room looking for more food. Why it didn't just stay in that room and keep eating, is beyond me. Maybe they're not so smart.
A day later, and back in that same spare bedroom I realised another Lindt bunny had had a section of it's ears eaten. We were freaked out, because we hadn't noticed it the day before, making us believe there was still a mouse in the house! Hubbie and I went on a massive excavation, moving all objects in all rooms and searching within and behind all furniture, nooks and crannies. Nothing. It left us with a sense of relief, but that doubt over why we hadn't noticed the 2nd eaten bunny earlier was grating on us, making us think constantly "what if?"
Hubbie sent me the best msg a few days later. I was at work, he at home, and he sms'd me this:
"I also put foil around the chocolate upstairs to see whether we still have company. Left the room door open to kindly invite him in."
His ploy being if the mouse were there, it would have to eat through fresh foil again, and we would then know for sure that there was another mouse. Fortunately for us nothing else has come up since, no sighting, and just yesterday Hubbie movied the mouse traps into the garage. We believe we are now mouse free!
What have we learned from this situation? Never leave sizeable gaps under any of your doors. Dad was able to patch it up immediately for us, and we discovered there was a decent hole in the brick wall of our garage that has now been filled in with a few chunks of wood.
Also, we've heard over the last while that there has been many, many, many reports of an influx of mice entering homes and backyards all over our region, due to the amount of rain that has been falling. It makes us feel that much better knowing the mice didn't necessarily choose our house because we were grotty (we're not) - rather they're all just running.
But like I say to the bugs that enter our home, before I smack them down with my shoe
"Why didn't you stay outside? Outside I don't touch you; in here, all bets are off!"
And so ends our Mouse-capade Adventure....
This last month has seen the fall and capture of Bin Laden, the end of Autumn and start of Winter, and the biggest party of the year, where my sister and I organised my Dad's surprise 70th birthday.
And then there were the mouse adventures of Hubbie and I.
Yes, the mouse. The mouse that had scarred us like no tomorrow.
It all began a couple of Fridays ago.
One Friday afternoon, Hubbie and I had made plans to catch up with his boss and his wife. They were going to come to our place after 6pm, and then we were going to make our way to a local pizza place for dinner. I had to drop off some presents to Blonde's parents, as they were heading overseas to stay with their daughter for a couple of months, and so I wanted them to pass on some presents from Red and I to her.
Well, the drop-off didn't really happen. I came to her parents very dark and apparently vacant looking house, and called Blonde's sister, saying, "I'm in front of your parents!" only to find out that they had left for overseas that morning. Apparently when her mum said for me to come on Friday, she probably actually meant that they were leaving on the Friday. Oh well. Blonde would get her presents in July when she visited us here.
So off I drove back home, half-laughing at myself, thinking 'wait til Hubbie hears about this mix up.' I'd left him at home, and knew that once I got back we would slowly start getting ready for that night.
I was a bit peeved off when I got to the front door, loaded with presents I thought I'd have dropped off already, and struggling with my keys, wondering 'where is he?' as Hubbie will often open the front door for me when he hears me.
I finally got the door open, and seeing the kitchen light on, was going to call out to him 'guess what happened?'
Instead he beat me to it. All I heard was "Don't be alarmed, but there's a mouse in here."
Because of his precaution, I wasn't too freaked out. And I wasn't so surprised either. I'd almost brought this predicament onto myself, I felt, as I thought of the past few weeks. Twice the previous week, in the lead up to my Dad's birthday during my baking marathons in the kitchen, I'd seen a mouse run through our backyard through our large sliding door windows.
I'd been very suspicious then. We have a sizeable gap on one end of the door that leads to the garage. So once something, anything was in the garage, it wasn't hard to imagine it not finding its way inside. That, coupled with a big talk Hubbie and I had had with a family member about recent mice problems in our area, gave me a huge feeling that I was going to attract something very unwelcome with my worries.
I came into the kitchen, and Hubbie was definitely, very freaked out. I wasn't so much at this stage. Disgusted and shocked yes, still slightly in denial perhaps, as I hadn't yet seen the rodent.
He had actually lost sight of it. He'd been in the kitchen, and had turned around to see it's ugly tail flit across the sink/bench and behind the microwave. It had then run behind the stereo when he had moved the microwave, and now couldn't find it. It had apparently 'disappeared' behind the stereo.
I was instructed to stand and keep watch on one side of the stereo while Hubbie stood at the other, so we had all corners covered. I was getting icky by this stage and had to stand on a chair: I couldn't be on the ground if it suddenly sprung out at me. Yuck, shudder.
I was peering behind the stereo from my birds-eye view, and Hubbie was moving around the stereo, speakers and cables from the other side: nothing.
Hubbie was convinced he hadn't lost it, yet we couldn't see it anywhere. Occasionally we could hear something, like scurrying, but at the same time couldn't find the source of where it was coming from.
I don't know how he realised, but suddenly Hubbie turned to me, flashlight shining in one hand, long knife sharpener in the other, whispering, eyes shining bright "it's in the speaker!"
"How is it in the speaker?"
"It is, I can hear it!"
Then we realised. The small speaker hole, located at the base, was large enough for a freaking mouse to go through. It must have snuck in when Hubbie was looking for it from one side, and slid in undetected. 'Til now.
We realised if it was inside, we would have to try get the speaker to an outside area to get rid of the mouse. We were freaking out a bit more at this stage, especially given Hubbie was going to have to pick up and carry the mouse-filled speaker (there was no way in hell I would do it!)
I got an old tea towel that was in the laundry hamper, and he wrapped it around the base of the speaker, so that when he picked it up the hole was covered and the mouse couldn't escape. I quickly opened the sliding door for him, and he placed it in the middle of our backyard area, in the very dim light.
Here lied the problem. It was now so dark, that we could just barely see outside, and that was with our faint backyard light on. We didn't know how we could tell if the mouse had escaped from the speaker (which is what we wanted, we just didn't want it inside), and on top of that it was beginning to consistently drizzle.
And our not even 1 year old speaker was getting wetter and wetter.
We didn't know what to do. Hubbie went back outside, grabbed it and brought it in, the speaker that hadn't been out there more than a minute.
And he started to shake it. Hubbie was like "I don't think it's in there," SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE, and you could hear a faint moving inside, like the small parts of a piece of equipment jiggling around or cables moving. I stood there, unconvinced, wanting, almost, about to say "I don't think that's cables."
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.
And then with one of the shakes, the mouse sprang out of the speaker hole, running towards our lounge room. It was already a full 2-3 metres in front of us before we had a chance to react, that's how fast it was. I gave a high-pitched squeal, Hubbie dropped the stereo and began taking long, quick strides, trying to balance and cover as much ground as possible and try get as good an aim at the mouse as he could. I will never for the rest of my life forget how funny he looked running after that mouse. Never.
But of course, the mouse was too quick, and appeared to have disappeared beneath the couches.
By this stage, my denial had dissipated, and was quickly replaced by hysteria.
"Oh my God! There's a mouse, in our house! How disgusting! I feel so gross! I can't believe it! Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God...."
Again, Hubbie ordered me to stand at one end of the lounge room while he went to the other, so he could search for it beneath the couch. I couldn't stand to stand, and once again brought over a chair so I could be at aerial height.
Hubbie looked and looked. He swept the floor, beneath the lounge, coffee table and TV unit with the torchlight. He moved the lounge and the coffee table. I wasn't convinced and was forced to look under the couch as well. There was no mouse. At one point I thought I saw something move near the stairs, but then realised it couldn't have run right in front of us to the stairs, we would have seen it.
I was starting to freak out. There was no mouse, I didn't know where it was, and I didn't like NOT KNOWING WHERE THINGS WERE. NOT BEING IN CONTROL. I hated it. And I was really hating this mouse for beating us.
We went through a lot of scenarios. Where it could have been. We decided and I very reluctantly agreed, that after it ran under the couch, it must have run along the back wall there and come upon the very door that leads to the garage, the one with the sizable gap on one side. It would have made its escape, away from the two mad people screaming and chasing at it.
The other scenario could have been that it was still under the couch. However Hubbie stressed to me (after I stated that we could not under any circumstances have his boss and wife over in the small chance that there was a disgusting rodent in our house) that in a room full of noisy people a mouse wouldn't be so stupid as to run out in front of us and say hello. He said we couldn't cancel on them, especially since they had gone to the lengths to get their children babysat that night to go out with us. I was really mad and stressed. But I knew I had to agree.
However I had my guidelines. I instructed Hubbie to get any drinks we would need out from our 'drinks fridge' in the garage. Then, he would close up the gap in the door leading to the garage (from the garage side so you couldn't tell) with my laundry hamper tea towels, to prevent any mouse re-entering the house.
And then we were going to like madmen get ready, in less than half an hour, returning furniture to its original places, putting our mess away, cleaning up broken glass (a glass broke when we were searching for the mouse in the kitchen) and any other CRAP mess the mouse had brought upon us in our hunt for it.
What had become a time bomb had within half an hour turned into a well-kept, clean and modern environment. I was muttering to myself "If these walls could talk."
And so the rest of the night passed by relatively effortlessly. We had our friends over, went out for dinner and then went to my parents quickly to get some stuff, which we'd been planning to do the whole time - this worked out rather favourably for us. We told them about the story - and Dad gave us 2 mouse traps of his: one for the garage, as that's where we assumed the mouse had ended up, and one for the house, just in case it hadn't escaped. That part I didn't want to think about. Hubbie decided he'd put the house trap near the kitchen, his reasoning being that if a mouse were looking for food, that would be the most logical place for it to go.
I was whinging a whole lot to my parents. Look, it wasn't so much that I was scared of it. Yes a part of me was, although I knew it wasn't going to run up and bite me. But its movements were unexpected, and wherever I was faced with something, someone or a situation in which I felt helpless, I got frustrated and angry. This mouse had come into our house with no invite, and had made me feel all icky and disgusting. My Mum made me feel better though: "The mouse just wants food! He's not going to come into your room to look at your perfumes!" We all laughed at that, and the ridiculous statement sort of put it into perspective for me. Of course she was right. Mice went to food, and there was no food in our bedroom.
...
We were very hesitant, to say the least, walking through the house throughout Saturday. But as they say, 'out of sight, out of mind.' And we were beginning to think that the mouse had really gone, as there was no sighting of it anywhere in the house.
Sunday early morning came, and Hubbie got up to go to work. It was about 6am, but his movements stirred me, and it was almost as if I knew what he was going to do. I heard him open the door leading to the garage, and pause. Then he walked up a part of our stairs. He called out to me "the trap went off."
"Alright. Is the mouse there?"
"Yep, it's dead."
Relief flooded over me. I was still freaked out - knowing that the mouse had been in there, somewhere the whole time. However knowing it had been caught made me feel safe, and I fell asleep again.
I was sleeping so nicely. I woke up a bit about 8am but fell asleep again. Something entered my dream. It was scurrying, twitching noises. I opened my eyes. The noise was coming from under the bed.
I shot upright in bed, and looked towards Hubbie's alarm clock. It was 9.00am. The noises had stopped. I sat there, frozen, and flung the blankets off of me.
Calm down Miss S, I thought to myself. You dreamt it. There's nothing under the bed. The mouse was caught. There's nothing under your bed.
You dreamt it, my internal voice continued. You were dreaming about weird noises, but now that you've woken up, you can't hear him. Because you stopped dreaming.
As much as I repeated the calming thoughts, the nagging just wouldn't go away. I hadn't dreamt it. I had woken up and heard the end sound of some scurrying under my bed. Like something was crawling right under the mattress, walking against the walls.
I got up. I swung my feet wide from the edge of the bed. I walked to the doorway, and crouched down on my hands and knees, to scan from a distance if anything was under the bed.
When I saw the large lump under the bed I got a small heart attack, until I realised that it was just a spare blanket that we sometimes use to hang in front of our blinds in summer when the morning light becomes too bright. I moved my eyes around, adjusting to the dim light under the bed, until I came to the bedside drawer. My bedside drawer.
There was a very small, roundish object, under the bedside drawer, right up against the wall.
My breathing increased. I tried to rationalise. What could be under there? The cables from my alarm clock and my lamp? No, they wouldn't bundle into a circle like that. I stared the bundle down, knowing full well that if it moved I would scream and shout like no tomorrow.
I remembered Hubbie's flashlight was in his bedside drawer, and so I quickly and tentatively walked over there, still trying to keep a view of the floor in our room. Although it's a good brand flashlight (that you can tell from how freaking heavy it is) for some reason the light flickers when it's on, and we've barely used it. So I'm desperately knocking it lightly with my hand, pleading with it, as the light flickers on, then off. "Please work, please please please...."
Finally it stayed on. I swung the light under the bedside drawer, to see that it was a definite object, no bunch of cables there. But I still couldn't work out what it was, crouching from the other end of the room.
So I stepped onto the bed, walked over to the wall side up near the pillows, and shone the light down, behind the drawer, pressing my face against the wall to see.
And I saw 2 little eyes glinting in the light.
I started to gingerly step from one side of the bed to its end, and as softly yet as quickly as I could, I stepped off and closed the door behind me.
"Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God. There's a mouse in my room. Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God." I remembered my Mum's words from a few days earlier. The mouse had come into my bedroom to see my perfumes!
I was in full flight mode, with a good dose of fight, as I remembered the mouse trap we had in the kitchen. I carefully picked it up, terrified it was going to go off, and ran back up the stairs.
I opened the door slowly. Set the mouse trap down near the door. Checked again under the drawer. Yep, mouse was still there. Closed the door and down the stairs I ran.
I hadn't even had a chance to grab my nightgown, and I wasn't gonna chance going into my bedroom again. First thing in my manic hysteria and disbelief: call Hubbie.
I got put through and immediately spoke the words he'd only days before spoken to me: "don't be alarmed, but there is a mouse in our bedroom, under our bed."
I explained how I came to hear/see it. I knew there wasn't much he could do since he was at work, but I just had to vent my frustrations and fears, and we hung up, me sensing the dread and disappointment in his voice. We'd both thought we'd got it, the mouse. But it seems as if there was another one waiting in the wings....
I ended up calling my parents, and they came over shortly after. While I waited I ate cereal on the couch, the throw gathered around me, throwing suspicious looks towards the stairs, wondering if and when I would hear a snap!
When they arrived, I went up with Dad to do some investigating. I never intended on going too far, as just from opening the door I could tell the mouse was still not caught - the trap was empty. My Dad decided to bring the mouse trap 'closer' to the mouse behind the drawer, and in horror I realised he meant CLOSE. He was taking the mouse trap right up to the drawer, as if 10 centimetres from, against the wall. I was calling out "Dad, it will run!" and freaking out, when the mouse ran along the length of the back wall. I screamed. It disappeared behind the bed along the wall again. My Mum called out to me from downstairs "come here Miss S, don't watch." As I quickly shut the door and ran I heard my Dad calling out "well, where do you want me to put the trap then?"
After sitting downstairs and freaking out for a bit, Dad came downstairs, saying that it was going to be impossible for him to catch the mouse, there had to be 2 people in the room. I told him to wait until Hubbie got home and they could do it together. Lo and behold it was as if Hubbie read my mind. He was owed some hours off, and so took that day as an opportunity to come home to our mouse crisis. He called me, and said he was on his way.
When Hubbie came home, the formalities were few: hello, how are you - let's go upstairs. Up he and Dad went, into a room already with 2 mouse traps (Dad had set up another) to catch the mouse. I was getting grossed out when they started asking for footwear to borrow in order to 'catch' it. Ew. Double Ew. Triple Ew. Ew, ew, ew.
Mum and I were downstairs at the table, talking all things mice. At one point we heard Hubbie go "ohhhhh" in deep realisation, and I wondered whether they had caught it. But still nothing. And then there was a loud noise. I stood up, waiting to hear the opening of the door, and soon it came followed by my Dad's asking for a bag. It was dead. Mouse no more.
They told us that it was impossible to catch. Just when they went to take a swing at it as it flew out from one end of the room to another, it was gone before their arm was even coming down. They said it never would have gotten caught if it weren't for the mouse trap. It ran straight into it.
After the whole debacle, we sat around drinking tea and eating cookies, while I recounted my morning horror again to them all in full detail. It was a story I was never going to forget. We were still wondering how the mouse had gotten into the bedroom, and I suggested that back when Hubbie and I were chasing it on the Friday night, maybe it had gone up the stairs somehow, like I thought I'd seen from the corner of my eye. Maybe it waited behind a couch, and then when we were gone went searching upstairs for food. The one caught in the garage that morning, that one I believe was the partner, coming in search of its mate. Although we were pretty satisfied that being a couple, there shouldn't be anymore, we still kept a few mouse traps around: one in our bedroom, one in the garage and one in the extra bedroom.
Why the extra bedroom you may ask? Well shortly following the whole mouse catching episode, we curiously went around the rooms, and realised that the mouse that had been in our bedroom had been in our spare bedroom with the easter eggs that couldn't fit into our pantry, and had knawed through a Lindt bunny's head, leaving bits of gold foil around the carpet. It was so disgusting, but it made sense: it went from room to room looking for more food. Why it didn't just stay in that room and keep eating, is beyond me. Maybe they're not so smart.
A day later, and back in that same spare bedroom I realised another Lindt bunny had had a section of it's ears eaten. We were freaked out, because we hadn't noticed it the day before, making us believe there was still a mouse in the house! Hubbie and I went on a massive excavation, moving all objects in all rooms and searching within and behind all furniture, nooks and crannies. Nothing. It left us with a sense of relief, but that doubt over why we hadn't noticed the 2nd eaten bunny earlier was grating on us, making us think constantly "what if?"
Hubbie sent me the best msg a few days later. I was at work, he at home, and he sms'd me this:
"I also put foil around the chocolate upstairs to see whether we still have company. Left the room door open to kindly invite him in."
His ploy being if the mouse were there, it would have to eat through fresh foil again, and we would then know for sure that there was another mouse. Fortunately for us nothing else has come up since, no sighting, and just yesterday Hubbie movied the mouse traps into the garage. We believe we are now mouse free!
What have we learned from this situation? Never leave sizeable gaps under any of your doors. Dad was able to patch it up immediately for us, and we discovered there was a decent hole in the brick wall of our garage that has now been filled in with a few chunks of wood.
Also, we've heard over the last while that there has been many, many, many reports of an influx of mice entering homes and backyards all over our region, due to the amount of rain that has been falling. It makes us feel that much better knowing the mice didn't necessarily choose our house because we were grotty (we're not) - rather they're all just running.
But like I say to the bugs that enter our home, before I smack them down with my shoe
"Why didn't you stay outside? Outside I don't touch you; in here, all bets are off!"
And so ends our Mouse-capade Adventure....
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
My friend Karma
I have a very strong faith in Karma. It's something I learnt, in a very hard way when I was 16, whilst at high school and having an intense friendship break-up. People may think 'oh, all that high school melodrama is just a part of growing up.' But the way you interpret your life's dramas, whether big or small, kind of sets you up for the way you'll deal with other tough scenarios for the rest of your life.
And in any of these tough cases I've come across and had to endure, I learnt that whenever there was a difficult person who seemed to be getting away with doing something bad which I couldn't change or help, the expectance of Karma was very much welcomed.
That first time I learnt to depend on Karma at the age of 16, I had to endure many months of strained friendships and life uncertainty before seeing Karma's appearance start to make a change in not only my life for the better, but also appear as the undeniable avenger in the lives of those who had wronged me. When I hadn't known what to do, I'd simply stated "I release this, and believe that Karma will make those pay if they deserve it." I had to focus all of my attention on that thought, and hope and pray that I was right, that retribution would come to those who had asked for it. And slowly but surely, it did. It was a slow process, but in the spate of about 6 months the dynamics had shifted dramatically, and as I sit here today, knowledgable about the lives of those I'd separated from over a decade ago, I'm even more aware now of not only the pure fact of Karma's existence - because it is just that, a fact - but also that the power of positive vs. negative energies is a game in which both sides always win. Just think about that one for a moment.
Not only do I play by Karma's law, because I want to attract good things - but I do so for a genuine reason, I actually do want good, and wish good for others. And I try, try, try not to care too much about the wrong-doings of others, confident in the knowledge that Karma will 'fix them up' if they deserve it. Well, generally confident.
And that's the thought that has lead me to this place. This place of lately feeling like God's avenger, a righter of wrongs that needs to let people know they've done bad. Yes I realise how comical that may sound but it's true. I have this raw instinct in me to let people know when they've pissed me off - yes that quality a lot of people have I'm sure. However at times, depending on how intense I feel about the wrong-doing, and in particularly how often a certain offender may re-offend, I feel even more driven to the extreme border of earth-bound and born retaliator.
Haha, me in terminator gear, how funny. Seriously though, it does get to me. Thankfully, I've once again had my aha! moment in regards to Karma, because of some interesting news I heard yesterday.
No-show-boy, myself and another colleague were having a tea break late last night. He started saying how he'd had a Saturday day shift, the one that's just passed, and was supposed to start at 2pm. Because of some 'things' he had to attend to in the day (and also to the fact he fell asleep on his couch), on top of the fact that he had misinterpreted the 1400 work start time written on his hand to mean 4:00pm, rather than the 2pm reminder it was meant to be, he came into work a little later than usual. And guess who, unknown to him was already at work, waiting for him?
Our boss.
Dum, da dum dum.
She's really a very good boss. She is very accomodating to our out-of-work needs and requirements, and you could say, is very cool.
She's also the sort of person to really let you have it if you take advantage of her easygoing nature, which is what happened to No-show-boy. The other colleague and I sat there wide-mouthed as he told us how she completely went off at him for being late, especially since there had been some kind of request made to our department in regards to an error, and as no one was here to represent our team she was called.
Ouch. That's nasty.
It was only then that I realised what had been happening. Here I was, keeping notes on his absences from work, and counting the minutes he was away from his desk per day (maybe not counting, but I was being a complete tardy-freak), not so I could tell somebody, I'm not a dibby-dobber, more so for my own records to satisfy my curiosity of how far he would push it. Last week I sort of said to myself, quite subconsciously of any Karma that may take part "I'm letting this go, I can't do anything about it. And if he's as bad as I think he is (tardy-wise) then the bosses will EVENTUALLY find out."
And they seriously did, within a week. Not that they didn't know already. Really, you can't keep secrets like those, everyone's true character comes out eventually.
And it made me think. This Karma re-appearing in front of me, made me think that perhaps I should 'let certain things go' about other troublesome characters in my life. Let them go, and the hurt go, so that Karma can swoop in and fix it up for me..... After all, Karma does as its definition is.
It's worth a shot.
There's a quote I heard a while ago that has stuck with me ever since, something I believe you cannot get away from, therefore you must endeavour not to run away from it in the first place.
"No matter how deep you bury your seeds, they will always be unearthed."
And in any of these tough cases I've come across and had to endure, I learnt that whenever there was a difficult person who seemed to be getting away with doing something bad which I couldn't change or help, the expectance of Karma was very much welcomed.
That first time I learnt to depend on Karma at the age of 16, I had to endure many months of strained friendships and life uncertainty before seeing Karma's appearance start to make a change in not only my life for the better, but also appear as the undeniable avenger in the lives of those who had wronged me. When I hadn't known what to do, I'd simply stated "I release this, and believe that Karma will make those pay if they deserve it." I had to focus all of my attention on that thought, and hope and pray that I was right, that retribution would come to those who had asked for it. And slowly but surely, it did. It was a slow process, but in the spate of about 6 months the dynamics had shifted dramatically, and as I sit here today, knowledgable about the lives of those I'd separated from over a decade ago, I'm even more aware now of not only the pure fact of Karma's existence - because it is just that, a fact - but also that the power of positive vs. negative energies is a game in which both sides always win. Just think about that one for a moment.
Not only do I play by Karma's law, because I want to attract good things - but I do so for a genuine reason, I actually do want good, and wish good for others. And I try, try, try not to care too much about the wrong-doings of others, confident in the knowledge that Karma will 'fix them up' if they deserve it. Well, generally confident.
And that's the thought that has lead me to this place. This place of lately feeling like God's avenger, a righter of wrongs that needs to let people know they've done bad. Yes I realise how comical that may sound but it's true. I have this raw instinct in me to let people know when they've pissed me off - yes that quality a lot of people have I'm sure. However at times, depending on how intense I feel about the wrong-doing, and in particularly how often a certain offender may re-offend, I feel even more driven to the extreme border of earth-bound and born retaliator.
Haha, me in terminator gear, how funny. Seriously though, it does get to me. Thankfully, I've once again had my aha! moment in regards to Karma, because of some interesting news I heard yesterday.
No-show-boy, myself and another colleague were having a tea break late last night. He started saying how he'd had a Saturday day shift, the one that's just passed, and was supposed to start at 2pm. Because of some 'things' he had to attend to in the day (and also to the fact he fell asleep on his couch), on top of the fact that he had misinterpreted the 1400 work start time written on his hand to mean 4:00pm, rather than the 2pm reminder it was meant to be, he came into work a little later than usual. And guess who, unknown to him was already at work, waiting for him?
Our boss.
Dum, da dum dum.
She's really a very good boss. She is very accomodating to our out-of-work needs and requirements, and you could say, is very cool.
She's also the sort of person to really let you have it if you take advantage of her easygoing nature, which is what happened to No-show-boy. The other colleague and I sat there wide-mouthed as he told us how she completely went off at him for being late, especially since there had been some kind of request made to our department in regards to an error, and as no one was here to represent our team she was called.
Ouch. That's nasty.
It was only then that I realised what had been happening. Here I was, keeping notes on his absences from work, and counting the minutes he was away from his desk per day (maybe not counting, but I was being a complete tardy-freak), not so I could tell somebody, I'm not a dibby-dobber, more so for my own records to satisfy my curiosity of how far he would push it. Last week I sort of said to myself, quite subconsciously of any Karma that may take part "I'm letting this go, I can't do anything about it. And if he's as bad as I think he is (tardy-wise) then the bosses will EVENTUALLY find out."
And they seriously did, within a week. Not that they didn't know already. Really, you can't keep secrets like those, everyone's true character comes out eventually.
And it made me think. This Karma re-appearing in front of me, made me think that perhaps I should 'let certain things go' about other troublesome characters in my life. Let them go, and the hurt go, so that Karma can swoop in and fix it up for me..... After all, Karma does as its definition is.
It's worth a shot.
There's a quote I heard a while ago that has stuck with me ever since, something I believe you cannot get away from, therefore you must endeavour not to run away from it in the first place.
"No matter how deep you bury your seeds, they will always be unearthed."
Friday, June 3, 2011
There's something in the air
I haven't written in this blog for soooo long. So I guess there's no time like the present to let you know about the weather today.
Waking up, though we're still only a few days into Winter (and I remind you that it is a Melbourne Winter which means it started in April) I actually felt on the warm side, and didn't need to grab at my nightgown as soon as I stepped out of bed.
I thought to myself "naughty weather, you can't trick me," and still dressed appropriately for what I felt would be a cold day: 17 degrees, bit breezy with isolated showers. I didn't go over-the-top with a long jacket or anything, we just came off a few days of cold but sunny 19 degree weather.
And maybe that's what it is. Coming off of those sunny winter days, although still cold, the air had a warm tinge to it this morning as I walked into work, magenta beanie, oversized white wooly scarf protecting me from any bayside breezes that may come my way. But no jacket of course.
And as I sit here at my desk, I have that feeling. You know the one you get when you're in the midst of summer, and suddenly a cold change comes along, with rain and wind and all? I've got that feeling, that sense that a change is near, a 180 gust that will move with it all nature, people and events. A change is around the corner, and it's unexpectedness and unpredictability is a most welcome relief.
But then again it could just be because today is Friday and everyone is super relaxed:)
P.S I'm up to chapter 5 of my book! (Fist pump, go me!)
P.P.S Stay tuned to this space, as I will soon be filling you in on perhaps the biggest of the past month's events, the one including THE MOUSE. Why should I keep this story to myself, when I could be sharing my spent pain, agony, and paranoia with you?
Waking up, though we're still only a few days into Winter (and I remind you that it is a Melbourne Winter which means it started in April) I actually felt on the warm side, and didn't need to grab at my nightgown as soon as I stepped out of bed.
I thought to myself "naughty weather, you can't trick me," and still dressed appropriately for what I felt would be a cold day: 17 degrees, bit breezy with isolated showers. I didn't go over-the-top with a long jacket or anything, we just came off a few days of cold but sunny 19 degree weather.
And maybe that's what it is. Coming off of those sunny winter days, although still cold, the air had a warm tinge to it this morning as I walked into work, magenta beanie, oversized white wooly scarf protecting me from any bayside breezes that may come my way. But no jacket of course.
And as I sit here at my desk, I have that feeling. You know the one you get when you're in the midst of summer, and suddenly a cold change comes along, with rain and wind and all? I've got that feeling, that sense that a change is near, a 180 gust that will move with it all nature, people and events. A change is around the corner, and it's unexpectedness and unpredictability is a most welcome relief.
But then again it could just be because today is Friday and everyone is super relaxed:)
P.S I'm up to chapter 5 of my book! (Fist pump, go me!)
P.P.S Stay tuned to this space, as I will soon be filling you in on perhaps the biggest of the past month's events, the one including THE MOUSE. Why should I keep this story to myself, when I could be sharing my spent pain, agony, and paranoia with you?
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
High as a Kite
As much as I try to look beyond the surface of things, and learn about the world, and in general make myself as well-rounded, worldly and knowledgable as I possibly can, sometimes my naivety fails me. There will be a person that I unfairly judge. A situation that appears to be bad, that is in fact to my favour. Looking through my rose-coloured glasses, hopeful and brimming with love, I believe certain people around me will get along, failing to see their flaws, contradictory natures and incompatible views. It works both ways: positive turns to negative, and negative turns to positive.
There is one thing however that no one could ever fail to miss, no matter how naive at times you might be. And that is when your co-worker comes in to work, eyes as wide as golf balls, pupils as black as the night.
Like a demon out of Angel, it's disturbing and scary. And like my Mum says, you definitely 'know what time it is,' at that sight.
No-show boy, came into work yesterday, 40 minutes late, with his eyes as wide as a little boys who had seen a ghost. When I turned to him, I immediately thought to myself "he looks different." His eyes seemed to be stretched open, with his pupils burning black right back at me. I quickly said hello, made some small talk to him and then swivelled my chair back to my desk. He looked so frightening. He seemed more mellow, and spaced out, yet at the same time more cheery, as seen by his relaxed and happy display when he said hi to Densley.
I know he's harmless (fingers crossed) but I was freaked out by how weird he looked. His eyes were almost bottomless, as if I was looking into an endless black pool of nothingness. I avoided him 'til after lunch, when his eyes returned back to normal.
So weird. People, don't stuff yourself up. Stay sane, use your brain and don't let substances take control of your life. That's all I have to say.
There is one thing however that no one could ever fail to miss, no matter how naive at times you might be. And that is when your co-worker comes in to work, eyes as wide as golf balls, pupils as black as the night.
Like a demon out of Angel, it's disturbing and scary. And like my Mum says, you definitely 'know what time it is,' at that sight.
No-show boy, came into work yesterday, 40 minutes late, with his eyes as wide as a little boys who had seen a ghost. When I turned to him, I immediately thought to myself "he looks different." His eyes seemed to be stretched open, with his pupils burning black right back at me. I quickly said hello, made some small talk to him and then swivelled my chair back to my desk. He looked so frightening. He seemed more mellow, and spaced out, yet at the same time more cheery, as seen by his relaxed and happy display when he said hi to Densley.
I know he's harmless (fingers crossed) but I was freaked out by how weird he looked. His eyes were almost bottomless, as if I was looking into an endless black pool of nothingness. I avoided him 'til after lunch, when his eyes returned back to normal.
So weird. People, don't stuff yourself up. Stay sane, use your brain and don't let substances take control of your life. That's all I have to say.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Easter days have come to play
I need to immediately counterbalance my last post with a happier one.
:):):)
I am on the verge of 5 days off. Actually no, I am on 5 days off, because I don't have to work tomorrow. Tomorrow I go my sisters house, then Friday and Saturday I spend making 4-5 lots of cakes for Easter. Sunday I wrap things and organise the cakes (yum) before heading off to an Easter family party!
Monday I go to my sisters again (we're planning my Dad's surprise 70th birthday) then that night we have another Easter dinner..... and Tuesday Red and Mr Wine come over for Easter dinner to our place.... yikes it's all happening.
Let me tell you about what Easter treats I'm making:
Cappuccino cup cakes (they're a specialty of mine!)
White chocolate friands
Chocolate sweet narrow balls (it sounds weird I know, there's 5 naughty ingredients in there, out of 5 ingredients!)
and
2 lots of choc-chip hot cross buns!
I made the hot cross buns last year as well, and was really happy with them. So I've decided to do two dozen - some to give out, some to eat.
Om, om, om.
And now I'm tired. So concludes my happy post.
:):):)
:):):)
I am on the verge of 5 days off. Actually no, I am on 5 days off, because I don't have to work tomorrow. Tomorrow I go my sisters house, then Friday and Saturday I spend making 4-5 lots of cakes for Easter. Sunday I wrap things and organise the cakes (yum) before heading off to an Easter family party!
Monday I go to my sisters again (we're planning my Dad's surprise 70th birthday) then that night we have another Easter dinner..... and Tuesday Red and Mr Wine come over for Easter dinner to our place.... yikes it's all happening.
Let me tell you about what Easter treats I'm making:
Cappuccino cup cakes (they're a specialty of mine!)
White chocolate friands
Chocolate sweet narrow balls (it sounds weird I know, there's 5 naughty ingredients in there, out of 5 ingredients!)
and
2 lots of choc-chip hot cross buns!
I made the hot cross buns last year as well, and was really happy with them. So I've decided to do two dozen - some to give out, some to eat.
Om, om, om.
And now I'm tired. So concludes my happy post.
:):):)
The Part-Time Narcissist
The Part-Time Narcissist
In previous posts I've tried my best to avoid mentioning this person's name, even if it is just a nickname I'm providing. And although I've alluded to this person, it pains me to do so, as this person's energy simply drains me of all my wellbeing.
The person I'm talking about is Mouth.
Recent encounters over the past while have forced me into seeking assistance for the second time, by asking for guidance via a pouring-of-the-heart letter. The first response was encouraging: it acknowledged my pain and pretty much suggested to ignore her. That is really hard to do. Enter the second letter, which I wrote recently, and from which I received a response to last night. The antedote was short and sweet: "She's a narcissist. Read up on it. You will never change her."
Funnily enough, this enlightenment added further substantiation from a conversation I had with Kitty while at work yesterday. She and I were discussing a 'difficult' personality at work, and she also mentioned how her own Mum displays a lot of these same 'difficult' personality traits. I was suddenly overcome by a massive desire to purge my feelings, and so described Mouth to her, to see what she could tell me about her, and what she thought of her. After listening to my purge, she said a magic word that sent me on an Internet-hunt.
Narcissist.
Everywhere I turned to on the net, I saw descriptions confirming all that I'd experienced: egotistic, feels superiority over others, strong competitive drive, absorption in oneself, imitation of learned abilities. I was stunned. I'd found my answer, and was feeling pretty damn good about it. It wasn't so much that I felt superior over Mouth having discovered a personality type to attribute her to, rather I could now begin to understand what it was that made her like that and try to work out what it was I could do to cope with her. Having my second letter responded to, and having the answer be the same as what Kitty had suggested, confirmed my beliefs in a big way. I was on the right path.
It's gonna be a long journey, and having spent a good hour or so yesterday trawling through articles on Narcissistic qualities, I think I can ascertain that Mouth isn't purely Narcissistic, I'll give her the benefit of the doubt on that one. I don't think I can wholeheartedly apply this personality disorder to her. However, she displays very narcissistic qualities, ones that give the impression of simply more than a healthy dose of narcissisim that we all require in order to live healthy lives. While the majority of us may display a 20-40% dosage of healthy love for ourselves, she my friends is up to 80%. And at times I believe still counting.
I have realised that everything about her I can deduce from her being a 3/4 narcissistic personality. It all makes so much sense. Therefore with my analytical abilities kicked into gear, I present to you my field case (let me purge myself, please):
1. Self-absorbed Egotist - This is perhaps the strongest part of her narcissism. She makes everything about herself, any conversation someone else is telling, she must stop and interrupt the story to bring it back to herself, either by proclaiming "that happened to me.." or "that's like this time when..." It's all about her. If her daughter has a birthday, it's about Mouth. "X number of years ago I became a mother." If her sibling has a birthday, it comes back to Mouth. "X number of years ago I became a sister." I'm surprised when her parents birthday comes around, she doesn't say "when they were born X number of years ago, they had little itty bitty genital and reproductive organs getting into gear and beginning to grow, for the one perfect day that I would be born."
Every conversation contains I, me, my. Who am I kidding, every sentence.
Even if she is communicating bad or good news about someone else, not directly close or related to her, it still somehow ends up being about HER. "Oh, this lady I work with has X illness.... ohhhh, I feel so badly for her, I have been thinking of her all day.... I don't know what to do to help her.... I can't stop thinking about her... I feel so depressed." Enter case point number 2.
2. Negative whinger - As a follow on from the previous example, everything is so 'woe is me.' It doesn't take much to make her start whinging about anything: traffic, work, not enough time, not enough sleep, sick, gossiping about others, coughing, blowing nose, depression everywhere - in the news, at work, with family and friends - and these are all genuine examples that she regularly takes a part in to complain about. She can't see the happy side. She doesn't believe in the Universe and like attracting like.
Just the other day I was trying to help her, telling her not to dwell too much on the negative. When I started on "if you think negatively, you'll attract negative things, they'll come to you," with a dismiss of her hand she said "Oh, I don't believe in all that." Well then you have no hope. Doomed to live in a never ending spiral of sadness and depression. She will just start up about her sicknesses "I haven't been able to shake this cold for 4 weeks," and says it in this weak feeble voice trying to drum up any amount of attention and pity. I have no sympathy for you, you attract this all yourself. You're always sick! I'm sorry to sound so cruel, but your bullshit has no boundaries. I will only think you more pathetic if you continue on your 'poor me' charade. Which going from all I've read about narcissistic people, you will.
Last time we met someone said to her how they hardly ever see her happy, they wonder if she ever smiles anymore. Of course, she took offence to that. Her husband said "you don't live with her, she's not like that all the time." I almost spoke up and said "how can anyone see you differently then what you show to the world? Everytime we meet you act like that and say negative things, therefore that's what we think of you. It's that simple!"
3. Superior Perfection - She is better than anyone. She is perfect, even though when she says "I know no one's perfect" she believes herself to be more so than anyone else. She believes that her acknowledgement of that fact exempts her of the right to treat people as equals rather than her inferior. She says things like "oh, I don't go there anymore, I've moved up." She name drops brands, places and people in an effort to impress and make herself look high and mighty.
She is right in everything, often (always) confusing opinion for fact. When you remind her of this, she moves onto another argument or ignores it. Her opinion is the right and only way. And when you tell her it's only her opinion, and on the rare occasion that she does acknowledge it being opinion, she still ends the argument with "no, I believe X." No matter what you are talking about, she MUST have the final say. I'm yet to test it, but if I were to follow her afterword with "No, I believe this," she would again reiterate her point of view, even though she has already stated it umpteenth times. But she must have the final word. And she will compete with you 'til she's blue in the fact, just so she can have the final say. Speaking of competition, point number 4.
4. Competitive - She will compete in an argument. She will compete that her point of view is right all the time. She will compete that her way and the way she does things is the only way. She will compete families, her own children, houses, cars, sports teams, jobs, even physical bodies. If there is a way to prove herself better or smarter than someone, she will find a way to compete in it. She doesn't realise that everyone is different; life is not a game, it is a journey, and each journey finds within it different experiences. She doesn't realise this. It's all about winning. Winning is more important than peace. She would rather make an enemy by pushing her point of view and having the final say (above point) and 'win' the argument, than have peace and find a new friend in it. And if she feels that someone has it better than her, she will find a way to put them down, gossip about them, and turn their fortune into a most misfortunate event.
Case in point. When speaking of her own cousin, without being prompted by ANYONE in the room, she started talking directly to her eldest daughter, though speaking loud enough so that everybody in the room could clearly hear. (condescending tone): "My cousin takes her eldest daughter to folk dancing lessons - she pushes her daughter too hard, right daughter? I'm not going to push my daughters into classes so that I can't spend time with them?" See that? She turns an otherwise neutral event (her cousin taking her daughter to dance lessons) into a negative event, by twisting it into the explanation that her cousin is missing out on mother/daughter time by choosing to do so. Therefore making Mouth the winner (once again) because she is 'winning' by not taking her own daughter to dance lessons. What Mouth can't face or even begin to realise because of her own insecurities, is that she is denying any notions or thoughts of herself being a failure as a Mum (there is no failure in this, but because she isn't doing this, she sees it as competition) and because she refuses to do this she turns it into an ugly, unnecessary thing, that in fact causes more stress to the familial relationship, than any one person would ever think dance lessons to be. She turns everything into her favour. And will never see it any other way. If you like gardening, and she doesn't, in her mind you win. But not until she puts down the hobby with "I don't like gardening, it's boring: I'd rather spend my time with my children." Now that she has made you feel like a loser for doing one thing you like without your children (heaven forbid) SHE is now the winner in her mind.
5. Un-empathetic - This is a tricky one. When I first read this narcissistic trait, popping up again and again in all the web sites I visited, I thought, 'hmmm, she HAS empathy. She actually feels for people, asks about them and remembers their birthdays. EVERY birthday of practically everyone she's ever met. Remembers dates of all kinds that you wouldn't imagine. But I read something that made my head go ting! I read that although they may ask you how you are, they are actually working from an automatic memory, and don't actually care how you are. This is one zillion % true. And it applies to the remembering of birthdays too. Every single time we meet, she will without fail ask "how long did you work today?" (when I've worked that day) and "when are you working this week?" (another kind of competitiveness I believe). She never asks me deep, genuine questions. Nothing about me the 'person.' In fact, when the day comes that I become a well-known writer and my first book is released, I know she will ask me "I didn't know you wrote! Why didn't you tell me?" And I will respond with "well actually you never asked." Boom. (I know I've mentioned this future fantasy of mine in an earlier post about her, I just love the thought of telling her she's selfish in a round-a-bout way.)
Another evidential point to her lack of empathy is the way in which she interrupts others conversations. I know I've already mentioned this, but her lack of care in what other people think and have to say is very strong justification for my point. It's only important when she talks.
And the birthday thing. Her obsession with dates, birthdays, and remembering EVERYONES. Once again, I don't think she actually cares. She is doing it for the wrong reasons - out of a desire to show how great and perfect she is by remembering birthdays, and again I think there is competitiveness attached to that. But the reason she does that, is she has mirrored her mother (see below point).
6. Narcissus loved the mirror - Not just herself. But growing up, she mirrored her mother, who is a very lovely person, by copying the traits she admired of her. Her mother is a person that remembers peoples birthdays and dates, and she took that on board, as she believed that made her an admirable person. However she's gone one step too far, in thinking that because she remembers, it somehow excuses her being a horrible person elsewhere (not that she would admit to being a horrible person - she would turn that accusation on your head and accuse you of being a horrible person for saying that to such a sweet, lovely, well-meaning person such as herself. Give me a break.)
Mirroring is a narcissitic trait. It is taken from an authority figure. And who is more authoritative to you as a young child than your own parent?
A narcissistic trait mentioned in the sites I've read is how these kinds of people like to get away from jobs, duties, they 'cheat' at work, and leave others to do their work. She is nothing at all like this, she actually does not stop, whether at work or at home (from what she tells me in her self-praise) and I believe it to be true. However again I feel this is a result of her mirroring the work values of her mother. So you see, everything is falling into place.
BACKGROUND
I haven't asked directly, but I have heard, and witnessed for myself a few things. So I can try to deduce a theory as to why she is the way she is.
She is naturally an attention-seeker, mirroring her own dad. Add to that her star sign, which on it's own has attention-seeking qualities, and you have a double whammy. Add to that, her parents, well not being necessarily frighteningly hard on her, but let's just say whenever she got an A for school work, instead of "Congratulations! Well done daughter!" she got "okay.... let's see if you can keep it up." Not getting the compliments she rightly deserved was the trifecta that I believe made her a rolling moss ball of insecurity, meaning she had to start speaking highly of herself because no one would do it for her, in order to preserve her self-image. This is no fault of her parents. They only did what they received themselves as children from their own parents. And when you see it from that side, you can't even blame her. It is the combination of the three factors that resulted in her strong tendency to display almost all narcissistic qualities.
Although her background does play a part in her narcissism, you can't blame a person for their star sign, or their intrinsic character, right? Yes and no. Everyone has the common sense and intelligence to determine what's right and wrong in the world. Maybe not so much when you're growing up, but they can change themselves as they grown older and out of childhood. The fact that looking around her as she's grown up, witnessing others, she still hasn't had the wake up call to a higher level of human decency, is beyond me. She has no self-awareness. Self-awareness is the most important thing in order to understand and better yourself. She can never be better, or even amount to a good, decent person at the rate she's going. The constant denial she lives in is staggering, and I would actually be afraid to enter her mind and witness the never-ending excuses she makes for every part of her life.
Hubbie asks me often "why does this bother you so much? Why can't you just let it go, forget about it, you can't change her!" And I don't know what part it is of me that drives me so, but like her tendencies towards narcissism, I too react due to a combination of factors. Firstly, due to my mother, I have a strong desire to need to prove people wrong when they are acting badly. Secondly, being of the same star sign as Mouth herself, and having made the decision when I was in early high school, after reading more of the 'unfavourable' qualities of my sign, I decided then and there that I would strive towards being the best of that sign, rather than the worst. Therefore, the fact that she represents the worst in all it has to offer, particularly maddens me. And no it's not that I am competitive against her. I don't like competition. Unless it's a game with a prize, it's not needed in life. Everyone is a unique and beautiful individual. I feel she is a bad representation of that sign, and being of that sign myself, is very upsetting (I believe in my signs!)
This analytical purging has helped immensely. Learning about her narcissism has also helped me in a massive way, even though most texts proclaim, 'they can never be changed.' Even with that, I don't feel so bad, because, now I know who and what I'm dealing with. Now that I know the game being played, I can move my chess pieces accordingly.
Check Mate.
In previous posts I've tried my best to avoid mentioning this person's name, even if it is just a nickname I'm providing. And although I've alluded to this person, it pains me to do so, as this person's energy simply drains me of all my wellbeing.
The person I'm talking about is Mouth.
Recent encounters over the past while have forced me into seeking assistance for the second time, by asking for guidance via a pouring-of-the-heart letter. The first response was encouraging: it acknowledged my pain and pretty much suggested to ignore her. That is really hard to do. Enter the second letter, which I wrote recently, and from which I received a response to last night. The antedote was short and sweet: "She's a narcissist. Read up on it. You will never change her."
Funnily enough, this enlightenment added further substantiation from a conversation I had with Kitty while at work yesterday. She and I were discussing a 'difficult' personality at work, and she also mentioned how her own Mum displays a lot of these same 'difficult' personality traits. I was suddenly overcome by a massive desire to purge my feelings, and so described Mouth to her, to see what she could tell me about her, and what she thought of her. After listening to my purge, she said a magic word that sent me on an Internet-hunt.
Narcissist.
Everywhere I turned to on the net, I saw descriptions confirming all that I'd experienced: egotistic, feels superiority over others, strong competitive drive, absorption in oneself, imitation of learned abilities. I was stunned. I'd found my answer, and was feeling pretty damn good about it. It wasn't so much that I felt superior over Mouth having discovered a personality type to attribute her to, rather I could now begin to understand what it was that made her like that and try to work out what it was I could do to cope with her. Having my second letter responded to, and having the answer be the same as what Kitty had suggested, confirmed my beliefs in a big way. I was on the right path.
It's gonna be a long journey, and having spent a good hour or so yesterday trawling through articles on Narcissistic qualities, I think I can ascertain that Mouth isn't purely Narcissistic, I'll give her the benefit of the doubt on that one. I don't think I can wholeheartedly apply this personality disorder to her. However, she displays very narcissistic qualities, ones that give the impression of simply more than a healthy dose of narcissisim that we all require in order to live healthy lives. While the majority of us may display a 20-40% dosage of healthy love for ourselves, she my friends is up to 80%. And at times I believe still counting.
I have realised that everything about her I can deduce from her being a 3/4 narcissistic personality. It all makes so much sense. Therefore with my analytical abilities kicked into gear, I present to you my field case (let me purge myself, please):
1. Self-absorbed Egotist - This is perhaps the strongest part of her narcissism. She makes everything about herself, any conversation someone else is telling, she must stop and interrupt the story to bring it back to herself, either by proclaiming "that happened to me.." or "that's like this time when..." It's all about her. If her daughter has a birthday, it's about Mouth. "X number of years ago I became a mother." If her sibling has a birthday, it comes back to Mouth. "X number of years ago I became a sister." I'm surprised when her parents birthday comes around, she doesn't say "when they were born X number of years ago, they had little itty bitty genital and reproductive organs getting into gear and beginning to grow, for the one perfect day that I would be born."
Every conversation contains I, me, my. Who am I kidding, every sentence.
Even if she is communicating bad or good news about someone else, not directly close or related to her, it still somehow ends up being about HER. "Oh, this lady I work with has X illness.... ohhhh, I feel so badly for her, I have been thinking of her all day.... I don't know what to do to help her.... I can't stop thinking about her... I feel so depressed." Enter case point number 2.
2. Negative whinger - As a follow on from the previous example, everything is so 'woe is me.' It doesn't take much to make her start whinging about anything: traffic, work, not enough time, not enough sleep, sick, gossiping about others, coughing, blowing nose, depression everywhere - in the news, at work, with family and friends - and these are all genuine examples that she regularly takes a part in to complain about. She can't see the happy side. She doesn't believe in the Universe and like attracting like.
Just the other day I was trying to help her, telling her not to dwell too much on the negative. When I started on "if you think negatively, you'll attract negative things, they'll come to you," with a dismiss of her hand she said "Oh, I don't believe in all that." Well then you have no hope. Doomed to live in a never ending spiral of sadness and depression. She will just start up about her sicknesses "I haven't been able to shake this cold for 4 weeks," and says it in this weak feeble voice trying to drum up any amount of attention and pity. I have no sympathy for you, you attract this all yourself. You're always sick! I'm sorry to sound so cruel, but your bullshit has no boundaries. I will only think you more pathetic if you continue on your 'poor me' charade. Which going from all I've read about narcissistic people, you will.
Last time we met someone said to her how they hardly ever see her happy, they wonder if she ever smiles anymore. Of course, she took offence to that. Her husband said "you don't live with her, she's not like that all the time." I almost spoke up and said "how can anyone see you differently then what you show to the world? Everytime we meet you act like that and say negative things, therefore that's what we think of you. It's that simple!"
3. Superior Perfection - She is better than anyone. She is perfect, even though when she says "I know no one's perfect" she believes herself to be more so than anyone else. She believes that her acknowledgement of that fact exempts her of the right to treat people as equals rather than her inferior. She says things like "oh, I don't go there anymore, I've moved up." She name drops brands, places and people in an effort to impress and make herself look high and mighty.
She is right in everything, often (always) confusing opinion for fact. When you remind her of this, she moves onto another argument or ignores it. Her opinion is the right and only way. And when you tell her it's only her opinion, and on the rare occasion that she does acknowledge it being opinion, she still ends the argument with "no, I believe X." No matter what you are talking about, she MUST have the final say. I'm yet to test it, but if I were to follow her afterword with "No, I believe this," she would again reiterate her point of view, even though she has already stated it umpteenth times. But she must have the final word. And she will compete with you 'til she's blue in the fact, just so she can have the final say. Speaking of competition, point number 4.
4. Competitive - She will compete in an argument. She will compete that her point of view is right all the time. She will compete that her way and the way she does things is the only way. She will compete families, her own children, houses, cars, sports teams, jobs, even physical bodies. If there is a way to prove herself better or smarter than someone, she will find a way to compete in it. She doesn't realise that everyone is different; life is not a game, it is a journey, and each journey finds within it different experiences. She doesn't realise this. It's all about winning. Winning is more important than peace. She would rather make an enemy by pushing her point of view and having the final say (above point) and 'win' the argument, than have peace and find a new friend in it. And if she feels that someone has it better than her, she will find a way to put them down, gossip about them, and turn their fortune into a most misfortunate event.
Case in point. When speaking of her own cousin, without being prompted by ANYONE in the room, she started talking directly to her eldest daughter, though speaking loud enough so that everybody in the room could clearly hear. (condescending tone): "My cousin takes her eldest daughter to folk dancing lessons - she pushes her daughter too hard, right daughter? I'm not going to push my daughters into classes so that I can't spend time with them?" See that? She turns an otherwise neutral event (her cousin taking her daughter to dance lessons) into a negative event, by twisting it into the explanation that her cousin is missing out on mother/daughter time by choosing to do so. Therefore making Mouth the winner (once again) because she is 'winning' by not taking her own daughter to dance lessons. What Mouth can't face or even begin to realise because of her own insecurities, is that she is denying any notions or thoughts of herself being a failure as a Mum (there is no failure in this, but because she isn't doing this, she sees it as competition) and because she refuses to do this she turns it into an ugly, unnecessary thing, that in fact causes more stress to the familial relationship, than any one person would ever think dance lessons to be. She turns everything into her favour. And will never see it any other way. If you like gardening, and she doesn't, in her mind you win. But not until she puts down the hobby with "I don't like gardening, it's boring: I'd rather spend my time with my children." Now that she has made you feel like a loser for doing one thing you like without your children (heaven forbid) SHE is now the winner in her mind.
5. Un-empathetic - This is a tricky one. When I first read this narcissistic trait, popping up again and again in all the web sites I visited, I thought, 'hmmm, she HAS empathy. She actually feels for people, asks about them and remembers their birthdays. EVERY birthday of practically everyone she's ever met. Remembers dates of all kinds that you wouldn't imagine. But I read something that made my head go ting! I read that although they may ask you how you are, they are actually working from an automatic memory, and don't actually care how you are. This is one zillion % true. And it applies to the remembering of birthdays too. Every single time we meet, she will without fail ask "how long did you work today?" (when I've worked that day) and "when are you working this week?" (another kind of competitiveness I believe). She never asks me deep, genuine questions. Nothing about me the 'person.' In fact, when the day comes that I become a well-known writer and my first book is released, I know she will ask me "I didn't know you wrote! Why didn't you tell me?" And I will respond with "well actually you never asked." Boom. (I know I've mentioned this future fantasy of mine in an earlier post about her, I just love the thought of telling her she's selfish in a round-a-bout way.)
Another evidential point to her lack of empathy is the way in which she interrupts others conversations. I know I've already mentioned this, but her lack of care in what other people think and have to say is very strong justification for my point. It's only important when she talks.
And the birthday thing. Her obsession with dates, birthdays, and remembering EVERYONES. Once again, I don't think she actually cares. She is doing it for the wrong reasons - out of a desire to show how great and perfect she is by remembering birthdays, and again I think there is competitiveness attached to that. But the reason she does that, is she has mirrored her mother (see below point).
6. Narcissus loved the mirror - Not just herself. But growing up, she mirrored her mother, who is a very lovely person, by copying the traits she admired of her. Her mother is a person that remembers peoples birthdays and dates, and she took that on board, as she believed that made her an admirable person. However she's gone one step too far, in thinking that because she remembers, it somehow excuses her being a horrible person elsewhere (not that she would admit to being a horrible person - she would turn that accusation on your head and accuse you of being a horrible person for saying that to such a sweet, lovely, well-meaning person such as herself. Give me a break.)
Mirroring is a narcissitic trait. It is taken from an authority figure. And who is more authoritative to you as a young child than your own parent?
A narcissistic trait mentioned in the sites I've read is how these kinds of people like to get away from jobs, duties, they 'cheat' at work, and leave others to do their work. She is nothing at all like this, she actually does not stop, whether at work or at home (from what she tells me in her self-praise) and I believe it to be true. However again I feel this is a result of her mirroring the work values of her mother. So you see, everything is falling into place.
BACKGROUND
I haven't asked directly, but I have heard, and witnessed for myself a few things. So I can try to deduce a theory as to why she is the way she is.
She is naturally an attention-seeker, mirroring her own dad. Add to that her star sign, which on it's own has attention-seeking qualities, and you have a double whammy. Add to that, her parents, well not being necessarily frighteningly hard on her, but let's just say whenever she got an A for school work, instead of "Congratulations! Well done daughter!" she got "okay.... let's see if you can keep it up." Not getting the compliments she rightly deserved was the trifecta that I believe made her a rolling moss ball of insecurity, meaning she had to start speaking highly of herself because no one would do it for her, in order to preserve her self-image. This is no fault of her parents. They only did what they received themselves as children from their own parents. And when you see it from that side, you can't even blame her. It is the combination of the three factors that resulted in her strong tendency to display almost all narcissistic qualities.
Although her background does play a part in her narcissism, you can't blame a person for their star sign, or their intrinsic character, right? Yes and no. Everyone has the common sense and intelligence to determine what's right and wrong in the world. Maybe not so much when you're growing up, but they can change themselves as they grown older and out of childhood. The fact that looking around her as she's grown up, witnessing others, she still hasn't had the wake up call to a higher level of human decency, is beyond me. She has no self-awareness. Self-awareness is the most important thing in order to understand and better yourself. She can never be better, or even amount to a good, decent person at the rate she's going. The constant denial she lives in is staggering, and I would actually be afraid to enter her mind and witness the never-ending excuses she makes for every part of her life.
Hubbie asks me often "why does this bother you so much? Why can't you just let it go, forget about it, you can't change her!" And I don't know what part it is of me that drives me so, but like her tendencies towards narcissism, I too react due to a combination of factors. Firstly, due to my mother, I have a strong desire to need to prove people wrong when they are acting badly. Secondly, being of the same star sign as Mouth herself, and having made the decision when I was in early high school, after reading more of the 'unfavourable' qualities of my sign, I decided then and there that I would strive towards being the best of that sign, rather than the worst. Therefore, the fact that she represents the worst in all it has to offer, particularly maddens me. And no it's not that I am competitive against her. I don't like competition. Unless it's a game with a prize, it's not needed in life. Everyone is a unique and beautiful individual. I feel she is a bad representation of that sign, and being of that sign myself, is very upsetting (I believe in my signs!)
This analytical purging has helped immensely. Learning about her narcissism has also helped me in a massive way, even though most texts proclaim, 'they can never be changed.' Even with that, I don't feel so bad, because, now I know who and what I'm dealing with. Now that I know the game being played, I can move my chess pieces accordingly.
Check Mate.
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