Friday, July 20, 2007

I wouldn't have to sell my body if it weren't for all that cocaine!

So, have I told you about my substance abuse problem?
Well, apparently, I have one. It is so well hidden that even I didn’t know about it.
This all comes to me through the rumor mill which is a dangerous mill to visit, instead of grinding flour, you go there to grind axes.

My daughter has a friend whom I dearly love but the poor child comes from some crazy-ass stock. Coming from a divorced household, she gets bounced back and forth from her lenient mother to her Jesus freak father. I can only imagine how painful the whiplash must be every week.

Well, Jesus freak dad (who I will henceforth call JFD) likes to try to turn his daughter against my daughter because he doesn’t like my daughter. He also doesn’t like me because I have raised such an awful child.

Now, I believe in knowing who your kids are hanging out with. I also believe that some parents are horribly deluded about their kids. I believe I have a pretty firm grip on reality and I believe I am pretty pissed off about this whole smear campaign.

It’s funny how people don’t fully appreciate the subtle effects of prejudice until it actually happens to them. When I was growing up, we lived next door to a complete wack job. She loved to spread rumors that I was a drug using slut. The humorous thing about this is that I never even spoke with this woman until I was a few years into her smear campaign. What’s even funnier is that I considered myself a horrible nerd while I was in school. I didn’t fully develop my “F-you” attitude toward authority until my senior year in high school. I was a total doormat and spent years of suffering with panic attacks, stomach aches, head aches, and every other kind of stress related medical problem because I was completely convinced that I was not worthy of anything. I really don’t know if this was due to being given up for adoption when I was 18 months old or what, but even when I was surrounded by people that cared for me (I realized this at a much later date), I never REALLY believed that they cared for me.

So, as a middle schooler/high schooler, I allowed wack job to spread rumors about me. What’s even worse is that next to the wack jobs house was a guy friend that went to school with me. I thought he was a great guy and really liked him. Guess what? Wack job talked to his mom all the time. When we went on our 8th grade trip to Washington DC his mom was a chaperone. At the beginning of the trip, she was really cold to me. As the trip unfolded, she actually got to know me and became quite nice. After we got back, my friend told me that his mom commented on how nice I was and how she was so surprised that I wasn’t anything like the description given by the wack job neighbor.

So, now I get to experience wack job redeux with JFD. My daughter is an anomaly. I’ll grant him that. She is fourteen. She is funny. She is creative. She is a hilarious smart ass. She looks you in the face when she talks to you. She gets good grades. She realizes that boys her age are mostly interested in getting a piece of ass. She thinks smoking is gross. She realizes that using drugs is not going to get her anywhere. She has immediate goals and long term goals for her creative education. She volunteers in her community. And she will be teaching a community education class this fall.

As you can see, she has trouble maker written all over her.

But JFD doesn’t like her because she isn’t a church goer. She isn’t shy. She refuses to keep quiet about her opinions. She can give amazingly reasoned arguments during debates. And she is not a woman who KNOWS HER PLACE.

So, he tried to turn his daughter against my daughter. And now he has either asked his daughter if I am a drug user or insinuated that I am. Yeah, that’s me in a nutshell. I’m an undercover coke whore.

When I told my husband this, he was incredulous. He’s the one arguing for the legalization of mary jane. I’m the one refuting him by saying there are enough idiots with the munchies in this nation that we don’t need anymore. I’m also the one that feels like I’m breaking the law when I go into a bottle shop to get alcohol. With a family history of alcoholics, I actually feel like I’m walking around with a big arrow above my head to indicate that I shouldn’t be there.

Oh yeah, I’m a coke whore that has just learned how to flavor food with wine and occasionally brandy. I’m the best kind of coke whore…a gourmet coke whore.

I like to say the phrase “coke whore”.

So, when we went to the honors banquet a couple months back, JFD and his JF-wife, sat with us and acted like everything was great. We talked and chatted and I never knew that they were sitting in holy judgment of my daughter and myself. I don’t have a problem with the judgmental Jesus freaks, I just wish, once again, that they would remember to wrap their heads in aluminum foil so I would know who they were.

The final nail in this familial coffin is that my son likes their younger daughter.

As I said, I think their kids are great.

Anyway, I have formulated my plan of action. The next time we’re together I plan on getting really close to JFD, placing my hand in the small of his back, and asking him if he and his wife are swingers.

And if they know where I can score some weed.

1 comment:

Vikki said...

I like the phrase coke whore too...and you use it with such panache!