jedusor: (badass geek)
I had a dream that my mom came to visit me in Seattle (which she is going to do next month) and that I took her to a vegan restaurant called The Shack (which does not, to my knowledge, exist). "The Shack" was a bit of a misnomer, since the restaurant was in a castle. We went in and apparently before you eat there they give you a tour of the whole place. So they took us through the dining area, where we got samples of ALL THE FOOD (including like 20 different kinds of bread, one of which was maple-flavored and I kind of want to try making it now), and then they took us to the research dungeons where the food is developed! Not the kitchens. The research dungeons. And I was all O.O "CAN I WORK FOR YOU PLEASE" and they were like "well, we're looking for a project manager! But you have no project manager experience. We could give you an unpaid internship with potential for career advancement?" and I was about to say "YES YES YES WHEN DO I START" when I woke up.


Man, sometimes reality is a disappointment.
jedusor: (dysfunctional)
The list )

Mom is kind of a force of nature. There are a bunch of different careers she's qualified for--writing, editing, braiding, massage, business--but she chose to channel her energy into her kids instead, although she does some of those things on the side when she can. She's a bit of an earthy-crunchy type, big on alternative medicine and pagan-type spirituality. I inherited a lot of her temperament; we're both good at getting what we want, but we have a tendency to blow our shit when we don't. Largely because of that, we had some rough patches when I was a teenager, but we've been totally fine since I moved out. Mom's second husband Bill and I hated each other's guts for the first few years, because I was a pain in the ass and he had a sharp sense of humor that got cruel sometimes, but things got better as I grew up and he learned to tone it down, and we're good now too. I don't know if I'd call him a parent, but he's put up with enough crap from me over the years that he deserves the title if he wants it.

My dad and I stopped being close when I was ten, and I stopped talking to him altogether from the ages of about twelve to fifteen. Now I talk to him on the phone once or twice a year, and I visit his family sometimes when I'm in the Bay Area--he feels more like an acquaintance than family, and I usually refer to him by his name, but we mostly get along these days. He remarried a few years ago and adopted his stepkids. I like his wife Jeanette a lot, but I definitely don't think of her as a parent.


Aug. 24th, 2006 09:53 am
jedusor: (looking at the stars)
Cut for those of you not interested in children )

EDIT: The point of this post is not the meat thing. That is an example of the point of this post, which is parenting decisions and the temptation to attempt to interfere with them.
jedusor: (capslock harry)
I remember when I was little, trying to start fights by being loud and unreasonable and stomping around because I felt that I was being maligned and that everyone should join in my misery. That is exactly how my mom is currently behaving, and the fact that she accused me of being immature doesn't help, especially when it was because I did something that she does practically on a daily basis. (That would be saying, "Fine, think what you want to think, I don't want to argue about it anymore.")

That thing she does, imitating what I'm saying in a high-pitched, whiny voice? That is what I call immature, and it's one of the few things that honestly makes me want to get violent. She says she does it to make me understand how I sound to her. I am not kidding. That's how she justifies it.

This entry left public because maybe if she can't interrupt me, she'll pay attention to what I'm saying. Though I find that highly unlikely.


Jan. 8th, 2005 11:16 am
jedusor: (Default)
I just remembered a field trip I took when I was going to the Waldorf school in fifth grade. We went to an Egyptian museum, and I spent most of the time rather bored because we were rushed past the parts I wanted to see (like the copy they had of the Rosetta Stone) and given lectures on the parts I wasn't interested in (like jewelry). At the end of the trip, as we were about to leave, Sean (another student) and I sat down in front of a movie about Queen Hatshepsut. It was a really cool video, and we were both intrigued, but Ms. Warren made us leave after about two minutes.

I don't remember a single thing about any of the stuff they made us see, but I do remember Queen Hatshepsut, and I do remember a lot about the Rosetta Stone. Because I was interested in them, and I wanted to learn about them, and I know I would have learned a hell of a lot MORE about them if I'd been allowed to.

I liked the Waldorf School when I was going there. I pretended I didn't when I talked to Mom, because I knew she didn't want me to like it, but I did. I liked the constant contact with people, the power plays with the teachers (the reason I ended up expelled), the big recess yard with all the vegetation. I liked the drawing class, taught by Miles's grandpa, and I liked being able to whup the other kids' asses at everyday schoolwork. I liked the attention I got when I didn't do what I was supposed to. There wasn't much homework at all, and no grades, only evaluations.

But that year was a complete pause in my actual education. The only thing I learned at the Waldorf school was how to hold my pencil wrong, and I was too tired after school to learn on my own. Mom was working then, so she didn't have much time, either. And during my time at the Waldorf school, I turned into a prep. My best friend was a girl called Monet, who had a gorgeous body and showed it off as much as the dress code allowed. Last I heard (which was the fall of 2002, when we were both twelve), she was smoking, drinking, and running away to Vacaville with her sixteen-year-old boyfriend who thought she was fourteen.

This is not to say I think my education has been perfect in all other ways. I do criticize the way my mom taught me and is teaching Clayton- unschooling, a method with quite a few flaws, in my opinion. Clayton is currently spending most of his time playing video games and reading manga comics. The unschooling argument is that he will motivate himself when he's ready. I motivated myself when I was ready, at age eleven, and now I take college courses and have a plan for my life. I do think my education has gaps because of the way I was brought up, but I'm independent and ambitious enough to deal with them. Cordell, on the other hand, is almost seventeen and doing nothing with his life. I don't think this is completely Mom's fault, nor do I think he would do any better in a public institution, but perhaps he would have done well with a little more guidance and instruction. Homeschooling should definitely be tailor-made for the child. That's the point of it, isn't it?

None of this is meant as jabs toward anyone or their choice of schooling, by the way. I'm just writing down some of the stuff that's clogging up my brain.
jedusor: (santa kiss my ass (jibjab))
Bold - i've read this,
Italic - i've read part of this.

Banned books )

Anyone around Oak and 59th ten minutes ago would have seen a barefoot girl, five-foot-six or so, with luminescent just-dyed purple hair, wearing black boxers with red and grey dragons on them (that keep riding up, dammit) and a Crayola T-shirt with paint and hair dye splatters on it, in 50-degree weather, trotting along behind a fat husky/Aussie dog.

I'm not having that "I'm so boring" feeling right now.

EDIT: My mom got a paid LJ account. *blinks* WTF?
jedusor: (Default)
Mom: I've barfed twice this week. Pregnant women in their thirty-ninth week should not have to puke. That's the way it would be if I were queen of the universe, anyway.
Me: If you were queen of the universe, God help the universe.
Mom: Well, labor would be a LOT easier, anyhow... 'cause it would be the guys doing it.
jedusor: (Default)
Salad Dressing: A Deadly Mistake
composed on-the-spot by my mom, written for my little brother

Put the lid on, before you shake it,
Put the lid on, before you shake it,
This is not brain surgery, put the lid on,
Put the lid on, before you shake it!
jedusor: (Default)
I went out to dinner with my family today, and something my stepdad Bill said made me laugh too hard not to post it here. We were discussing my emotional, unpredictable tweens:
Brother: "Man, it was you against Bill back then."
Mom: "More like you against the world."
Bill: "Yeah... the world lost."


jedusor: (Default)

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