Wednesday, February 07, 2007

What's this world coming to?

I swear to God, between Astronauts going psycho, socialites selling their sex tapes to Vivid Entertainment, weird patches of dry skin and random people I have never met saying that I sound ghetto fabulous (I still can't get over that one!) I am just not surprised by aything anymore- Not that I ever was, but still.

I can't imagine what we have to expect from our children! (and not even the fact that I'm actually worried about this surprises me!)

My parents were here and they left. Now I hear that my mother is sick and I'm all kinds of bent ou of shape because I'm not with her, even if only to bug the living hell out of her. In times of crisis I am functional but sometimes the only way I can be useful is by making my presence be felt and despite the fact that this is a situation where I can't be of any use whatsoever, I just wish I were there.

Though lately I've found that wishing is a powerful force, sometimes it just doesn't get you were you need to be. Wishful thinking creates but it doesn't fix things.

So now I find myself in a bit of a jam because I have a whole lot to be happy about and thankful for but between my mom's health and that one concern that's going to be haunting my existance for the next week or so, I am finding myself unable to enjoy all the things I spent a good chunk of the past few years wishing for. Not that I would have anyone to enjoy them with but still... it's a crazy world...just when you think your ducks are in a row God feels the need to go bowling with them (I can only hope he/she misses).


Rebecca said...

I don't know you personally, but after reading your blog for past year, I kind of agree with the ghetto statement. I looked up the definition of ghetto fabulous. here it is: Spending money on items that are not of a necessity, when there are things that you actually do need; Not making wise economic choices with one's money for the sake of appearing "cool" or wealthy; Vanity.

This sort of defines you since you mention your Mark Jacobs, Gucci and Manolo whenever you need to talk about your shoes or bags, but don't seen to have anything of substance going on for yourself.

Don't be mad, it's just my humble observation!

henry siteber said...

What does this have to do with the way she sounds? It's called "an accent". A lot of us have it.

Get a life.

annush said...

I think people forget that there is a ral life going on outside of cyber space...

rebecca dear, I was born wealthy (and i am not saying this to show off); however, and this is a big HOWEVER, I have to work to justify my existance. I have done so since the tender age of 14. My parents dd good in instilling in me the value of the dollar. I have done every ghetto job from super market clerk to shoe sales girl. Believe me, alot of the things that I have spent money on thathave mad eme very happy, I have acquired through hard work and all the fun perks have come because in a way, I have earned them.

I make wise economic choices and as I sit here writing this, I just got home from a 12 hour work day because I do have car ayments and a mortgage to pay and they don't ay themselves. Just because I don't talk about work doesn't mean I don't work. If you don't call that substance then you should think about what substance means to you.


ps- I don;t ever talk about Manolo. His shoes give me blisters.

Anonymous said...

I was born wealthy.
No true at all.

I know where are you coming from.
And now you may have a little something,
but from there to be WELTHY.
girl please.

Very sad

annush said...

There is a difference between knowing where I am coming from and knowing who I am...

That said, if you know where I am coming from like you said you do, you should stick up for me. If you know who I am, then you must be more than a little confused, or if you aren't and aren't just looking for a reaction, a way to just make me look bad, you would call me on it without the shelter of an anonymous tag.

I am too old to be a wannabe and frankly, quite tired [and too sick]to be dealing with bullshit.