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( That Name Meme )
When I was a kid, I tended to watch what my parents watched. So there may have been shows that were popular with other people, but in my house, besides the requisite A-Team, Knight Ridder, Hardcastle and McCormack, Duke's of Hazzard, we also watched The Cosby Show and Benson. Those were our shows. (We may have watched Facts of Life too, but I can only remember bits and pieces of that one.)
Well, of all those shows I had favorite characters. But by far, my favorite two actors from all of those shows combined were Mr. T and Robert Guillaume. I adored them. They were just so different, but so cool. (I give the edge on coolness to Benson, cause smart is always cooler than a mohawk.)
So I point everyone to THIS question and answer about Benson from TV Guide Online. Dude. Love the Guillaume. Love. Him.
***
I had a bad night last night, but it resulted in one of the weirdest dreaming nights I've had in a long time.
I dreamed about penises. Lots and lots of penises.
I just never got to play with them. That's sad. Really sad. *sigh*
***
I am currently contemplating some Harvick kinds of stuff. I'm feeling the urge for NASCAR ficcyness again. Man, this is a sickness.
***
This coming weekend's extended trip to Atlanta is looking like it's going to get ugly. I am dreading it horribly. My mother made me cry myself to sleep last night. We apparently have a rule in the family: you can have feelings on something, and we want to hear it, but just enough to let you know you're wrong and that your feelings don't count.
My mother and my sister have had me running interference for years. I've tried telling both of them where the other one is coming from when they argue.
I'm the stubborn one. I'm the one that, it doesn't matter what anyone says, I'm going to do what I want anyway (I admit to being like this, although I try to do differently when I catch myself in that trend). I'm also the sensitive child (as labeled by my mother at a very, very early age). I discovered last night that my family has forgotten what I was like as a teenager and that they have no clue that there might be a correlation between the stubborn and the sensitive.
My mother basically told me that they've been finding it funny to mess with me about my hair because of my reaction. It's funny to them to see me getting so mad. Because they know I'm not going to change my opinion of my hair, just because they like it. Like mom said, we can't tease Katie that way. But she's not understanding the mad. I'm *mad* when her "teasing" sounds more like yet another unwanted opinion on something trivial. My hair has always been a sore point. She's never liked it. Ever. Says the woman with a bubble of teased helmety goodness. But god forbid I ever give *my* opinion on anything to anyone in the family, or I hurt their feelings. She just doesn't see that teasing me when I'm mad and when I'm the sensitive child just leads to me getting really mad.
Last night we had a moment where I decided to lay it all on the line and explain. Since she had complained recently that I don't share my deep, dark feelings, letting them know when something is bothering me or how, I thought, well, let's do this. Lay it on the line. Be an adult about it and discuss instead of holding it in. (See? I can mature.) I start explaining to my mother that I can *feel* myself getting mad, that I try and control it, but they don't help matters any by missing the verbal and physical cues that are blatantly coming off me.
Her response? Oh, we get the cues. We just ignore them. *seethes* And then when I start to say "well, maybe ignoring them is a bad idea, because..." she says, "Oh, our show is back on, I've got to go."
I hung up on her. I don't even know if she realizes that I hung up on her. Hence me crying myself to sleep last night and really dreading this weekend.
Well, of all those shows I had favorite characters. But by far, my favorite two actors from all of those shows combined were Mr. T and Robert Guillaume. I adored them. They were just so different, but so cool. (I give the edge on coolness to Benson, cause smart is always cooler than a mohawk.)
So I point everyone to THIS question and answer about Benson from TV Guide Online. Dude. Love the Guillaume. Love. Him.
***
I had a bad night last night, but it resulted in one of the weirdest dreaming nights I've had in a long time.
I dreamed about penises. Lots and lots of penises.
I just never got to play with them. That's sad. Really sad. *sigh*
***
I am currently contemplating some Harvick kinds of stuff. I'm feeling the urge for NASCAR ficcyness again. Man, this is a sickness.
***
This coming weekend's extended trip to Atlanta is looking like it's going to get ugly. I am dreading it horribly. My mother made me cry myself to sleep last night. We apparently have a rule in the family: you can have feelings on something, and we want to hear it, but just enough to let you know you're wrong and that your feelings don't count.
My mother and my sister have had me running interference for years. I've tried telling both of them where the other one is coming from when they argue.
I'm the stubborn one. I'm the one that, it doesn't matter what anyone says, I'm going to do what I want anyway (I admit to being like this, although I try to do differently when I catch myself in that trend). I'm also the sensitive child (as labeled by my mother at a very, very early age). I discovered last night that my family has forgotten what I was like as a teenager and that they have no clue that there might be a correlation between the stubborn and the sensitive.
My mother basically told me that they've been finding it funny to mess with me about my hair because of my reaction. It's funny to them to see me getting so mad. Because they know I'm not going to change my opinion of my hair, just because they like it. Like mom said, we can't tease Katie that way. But she's not understanding the mad. I'm *mad* when her "teasing" sounds more like yet another unwanted opinion on something trivial. My hair has always been a sore point. She's never liked it. Ever. Says the woman with a bubble of teased helmety goodness. But god forbid I ever give *my* opinion on anything to anyone in the family, or I hurt their feelings. She just doesn't see that teasing me when I'm mad and when I'm the sensitive child just leads to me getting really mad.
Last night we had a moment where I decided to lay it all on the line and explain. Since she had complained recently that I don't share my deep, dark feelings, letting them know when something is bothering me or how, I thought, well, let's do this. Lay it on the line. Be an adult about it and discuss instead of holding it in. (See? I can mature.) I start explaining to my mother that I can *feel* myself getting mad, that I try and control it, but they don't help matters any by missing the verbal and physical cues that are blatantly coming off me.
Her response? Oh, we get the cues. We just ignore them. *seethes* And then when I start to say "well, maybe ignoring them is a bad idea, because..." she says, "Oh, our show is back on, I've got to go."
I hung up on her. I don't even know if she realizes that I hung up on her. Hence me crying myself to sleep last night and really dreading this weekend.
Well, if it's just the starter that's the problem, it's $360 to fix. If it's the fly wheel (my mind went fishing places *snerk*) it's more expensive.
Just...joy.
Do car places do payment plans? Because I've got rent due dammit. And they choose *now* to replace my blinds from when Chester tore them up (it's a sore subject with me that they replace them in Evelyn's apartment when she's lived there for 10 years just so they'll be the vertical blinds like everyone else's, and every time someone moved out who had horizontal blinds those were trashed, yet to replace my horizontals with verticals means I'll be charged, even though I've lived there for almost 4 years now and am one of the few long-term residents).
On the plus side my rent is going down by $10 a month for the next 13 months.
At some point I'm supposed to get just over $400 of taxes back (I got back the $68 from state yesterday). I need to check my checking account closely, just to make sure I've got the money to handle getting the car fixed (combining it with payday tomorrow, minus the $460 for rent...*crosses fingers*).
When it rains it pours.
Just...joy.
Do car places do payment plans? Because I've got rent due dammit. And they choose *now* to replace my blinds from when Chester tore them up (it's a sore subject with me that they replace them in Evelyn's apartment when she's lived there for 10 years just so they'll be the vertical blinds like everyone else's, and every time someone moved out who had horizontal blinds those were trashed, yet to replace my horizontals with verticals means I'll be charged, even though I've lived there for almost 4 years now and am one of the few long-term residents).
On the plus side my rent is going down by $10 a month for the next 13 months.
At some point I'm supposed to get just over $400 of taxes back (I got back the $68 from state yesterday). I need to check my checking account closely, just to make sure I've got the money to handle getting the car fixed (combining it with payday tomorrow, minus the $460 for rent...*crosses fingers*).
When it rains it pours.
.