Change is inevitable. And frustrating as hell.

I am a creature of habit.  Blame it on my taurean nature, or the desire to create peace in a world of chaos, but I like my routines.  Turkeyboy and I leave the house each morning, I drop him off at preschool, and then I head to the same convenience store to get my crappychino mixed with Folgers French roast.  I come into work, turn on the computer, put my purse in the drawer, and take care of anything that needs immediate attention.  I sit down, log in, get my email going, and then start the tunes.

I’ve been a paying customer of Yahoo music for years now.  I have been pleased as punch for the entire time, downloading music to my phone to listen to by the pool, or to share with my daughter.  I listen to “my station” most of the day, interrupted by Pink Floyd, Depeche Mode, or Sarah McLachlan albums.  I had heard the rumors that Yahoo music was going away, but I chose to remain in denial.

Until this morning.  I was faced with the choice to move my subscription to Rhapsody or just wave goodbye to my musical staple from my desk chair.  I MUST have music, so you know what I chose.

I’m not happy.  It seems like half of my playlists were imported, and the other half disappeared to the same place the Hamster Dance  now occupies – the internet graveyard.  But the one thing that is truly making me scowl is that it looks like I have lost probably four years of ratings.  I had the most awesome “my station,” and now it’s gone.  And did I mention that the song title and artist don’t display in the task bar like Yahoo did?

This is going to take some getting used to.

Eminem makes white people angry

I’m not always a rational person.  Especially when hormones and sleep deprivation play a part.  And I have a rather eclectic taste in my music choices, swinging from musicals to rap music.  When I was pregnant with my son, I had three cds on rotation whenever I got into the car: Home, by the Dixie Chicks, Appetite for Destruction, by Guns N Roses, and The Eminem Show. Quite the mix, huh? I was so enthralled with the Eminem show that on the way to the hospital, where most laboring mothers would be listening to Norah Jones, Enya, or sounds of the rainforest, I demanded my ex play track 3, Business, while gripping the underside of the dashboard.

The movie 8 Mile came out in November, 2002. My son was a few weeks old, so I tucked him into his little car seat, loaded him and his sister up, and brought them to my baby sister’s for a few hours. My ex and I were going to the movies, alone, for the first time in who knows when. I was huge, tired, and leaking milk, but I really wanted to see this silly movie. 

The theater was packed but we managed to find two seats together.  However, sitting in the row directly behind us was a woman with probably six or seven kids, including the youngest looking one, probably around 5 years old, that was in the seat directly behind me.  During the course of the movie, my seat was pushed, kicked, and even leaned on repeatedly, and this little girl could not keep quiet.  Not that I expect a 5 yo to be able to, even if she were watching Finding Nemo.  I really couldn’t even tell you about most of the movie, I was so irritated and distracted.  I kept glaring over my shoulder at the mother figure, and she would shush the girl and pull her back to her seat.  By the end of the movie, I was livid.

As the lights were coming up, and people were crowding out, I marched up to the usher and asked him to get his manager.  I told the manager I wanted my money back for my ticket since I really didn’t get to see the movie.  By this time the mother figure and her van-load had caught up with me.  I didn’t actually want to talk to her, since I thought it was terribly irresponsible for her to bring a kid that young into that movie in the first place.  She apologized and told the manager she didn’t know her daughter was being a distraction.  I glared, and asked her, then why did you keep pulling her back to her seat each time I turned around.  The manager offered to let my ex and I sit through the next showing.  I told him that wasn’t possible, and again glared at the woman, saying that my children were at the SITTER’S.  Then the woman herself offered to reimburse me for my tickets, to which I declined, (again, not very politely) because if she couldn’t afford a SITTER, how could she afford a second set of tickets? 

My postpartum rage drew a little bit of a crowd.  I’m not necessarily proud of my behavior, but really, I can’t imagine taking kids that age to a rated R movie.  I wouldn’t even play the cd when my then 7yo was in the car.  But what sticks out today about the entire experience, was the reaction of the bystanders, one in particular who’s skin tone, its safe to say, was quite a bit darker than mine.  I can now look back and laugh, when I hear his words from that night:

“Man, Eminem sure does make white people angry!”

I’ve had only three hours sleep in the past few days

I’m a disgusting shell of myself.

1. I’m temporarily off three of my meds until the sun rash clears up, to figure out which one is the culprit. I’m in a shitload of pain. I can’t sleep. Panic attacks are setting in.

2. I’m hitting 3 painful mouth sores, either from the methotrexate, or working towards the diagnosis of Lupus instead of RA and Fibro.

3. I had to call the cops on a fucking 7yo this evening. The same little bastard that caused both younger boys to go the the ER last week, was swinging a tree branch at the older boy tonight. And his bastard of an older brother told my Amy that she had no tits. I told her, next time, tell him he obviously has no dick. I’m through with this shit. The officer told us there’s really nothing he could do, but to call them again if we see them outside unsupervised again, especially after dark, and to call CPS.

4. I have not gotten laid in a record amount of time, and the dream I had in the miniscule amount of time I was sleeping was just a fucking evil erotic thing to torture me with.

On the plus side, I managed to find and dl Hobo Humping Slobo Babe by Whale tonight. I smiled, and made my baby sister smile. I haven’t heard the song in maybe 10 years. Ahhh.