Carlos Mencia @ MindSay

I was just watching comedy central with Carlos Mencia, and I realized this too.

He was talking about a man getting mad at his wife, and staying mad at her for days, and then when he went to work on the day after that, he was on the 90th floor of the tower, and the only way he could make up with his wife was to call her then and tell her that he loved her before he died.

Life is so fragile to hold grudges, you truly never know when you could be gone, it could be tonight, or in 50 years, but you just never know.  Everybody should learn how to forgive, what he said really hit home, download it, it's very awesome :D

As demands my theme changing addiction...which is actually a cover up for my photoshop addiction...but we won't go there...

yeah...Tank Girl...and if you have to ask who Tank Girl is...you're a dee de dee...

(hey Kayla!, Carlos Mencia!! ha ha ha ha ha)

I actually hand drew the header (copy off one of the Tank Girl comics) and photoshopped it

I'm in a good mood today ^.^ I talked to Leif for a few minutes...confirmed he's still alive...not sure if I should thank the sick deity that watches over my life or not (you know...the one that finds it a very copacetic use of time to torment me in my fucked up existance?)...had a couple of off beat dreams that just weirded/freaked me out...and yeah...I take some of my dreams a little to seriously...they just make me uneasy...when you sleep you should not think...or create little horror videos in your head...because...I need my sleep...I already don't get enough of it as is...I'd like to have nice dreams...

I want to make it known how far a little joke can go...

I, again, volunteered at the high school football game parking and concession. (I'm a second advisor, so I do whatever I can) My grandma is in Kiwannis, and came to help with parking. She took me out to dinner (BBQ!!!!!), and I came back for the club concession. When I got home, my parents saw my hands were full, and asked what the food was for. I told them grandma had taken me out for dinner, and I had stuff to bring home. We had talked about what grandma and I talked about (because we never really talk about anything except school, work, my future, and how miserably I'm doing... to be honest), and I told them we talked about my research paper, and how she was going to give me her brother's email and phone number, so I could ask him, since he was in the military and knows about [bodily] waste management. I told them she had mentioned how brilliant her brother was, and that I had asked if he had any common sense. Because, as I'm making fun of myself, as well as everyone else, if you're book-smart, you have absolutely NO common sense, and vice versa... generally... 9 times out of 10.
My parents took offense to this, and started making jokes out of it. It was funny. And they were making fun of themselves, trying to see where they fell in those 2 categories, and where other family members fell. When they had jokingly kicked me out of their room, because "not only did I insult them in their own house, I had insulted them in their own bedroom!" We laughed, and they joked about how I called them stupid, and I said, well, I'm making fun of myself, too.
"Where do I fall in all of this, right?"

(Did I mention my grandma is my step-dad's mother???)

My [step]dad answered, "Well, it's hard to say..."
And I jumped in, "...Because, I mean, I'm as dorky and ditzy as they come. I'm not exactly the brightest person..."
And my dad said, "I know... Those're those Todd genes! DeeDeeDee!"
(If you've seen Carlos Mencia on Comedy Central, you know where the DeeDeeDee comes from.)

Of course, my mom, although I was laughing about it, knew what he had just done, and he kind of knew, too. So, between the two of them, they were trying to make up for this by cutting on their families, as well. It didn't work, to say the least.

See, when you grow up going through visitation and crap... now, it could always be worse- but this is what I know and personally went through... and you've got a little brother who only knows and understands that his two big sisters have a different dad- that causes problems. My brother was always making comments like, "You're just a [last name], and I'm a [last name]. So I'm their real son, and you're not."
Then, you've got my step-dad's side of the family... His father and step-mom would never ask my sister and I over to stay the night, because we're not blood. They're not obligated to spend time and money with us, because it's not their job. It was only our brother- because he was blood. He was their grandson. Granted, his step-mom has warmed up to me a LOT, seeing as how every Bucs game, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, we come over, and I spend my nights helping her in the kitchen- learning new dishes, to, as she says, "impress the men." However, grandpa still never gives us hugs or anything.
(It is partly because of all this mess that my sister moved out of this family, and in with our father.)
My mom's side of the family HATES my father's side, and my father's side HATES my mom's side. My father's father (who left that family when I was five years old) is the only half-decent person over there- and I almost never see him. Oh my goodness, you should have seen everyone at my graduation! Talk about your chaos... My 5th grade teacher was there to watch me graduate, and soon understood why my father's side of the family was banned from visiting me at school. My mentor (for a scholarship, but I still keep in touch with her) was there, and she soon learned all kinds of things...
She learned what I meant when I always told people I use my hate for my family and what I went through to help me. She learned a lot of things that could never, in a million years, be explained. She learned why I am who I am- despite both sides of my family- and came to learn why I love middle school kids and that age so much, why I strive to see that no one feels toward their families what I felt toward mine. She learned why I love helping people. And why I am willing to do pretty much anything, socially, to get away from home.

The comment my dad made to me tonight was so... uncalled for. Well, I can't really say that, though. Because, it was said as a joke. It was meant as a joke. But it wasn't taken as a joke. I know that he said it jokingly, mind you. However, I also know that he meant it. And, in the case of my father, jokes cannot be made like that. Because I have a tendency to take them seriously.

So, I have to say, if you make a joke, (1) be careful what you say- because you never know, and (2) if you say something seemingly harmless, and that long awkward silence is there almost immediately, try to understand what conclusion may have been drawn from the joke...