Power, Rage, & Hysterical Crying

I'm not an aggressive person, but for the most part I usually demand respect for myself. Not in an attitude-y sort of way, just a general respect for myself and others in a "We're all human" sort of way.

Today I was pushed to the edge. At a Burger King.
I go to the drive thru speaker, order a combo meal, and pause to order the second one. Before I do so, the cashier says "$6.09 drive around."
I nicely said, "Oops, I have more to order."
Cashier says, "(SIGH) Well you'll have to do that at the window."
Okay. So I drive around. Maybe she couldn't hear me...
At the window she tells me the amount again, and I nicely say "Oh- I have more to order."
She says (in a 'how dare you bother me with this' sort of way) "Oh. What else you want?"
I pay. She tells me to pull up. No problem I say!
I wait.
For over 12 minutes.
Cam is in the backseat, teetering on the edge of meltdown.
Finally, she comes out and gives me a bag of food. But no drinks.
So I say "OH! Excuse me, there's also 2 drinks I didn't get."
And she says "Well you gonna have to go in and get them yourself."

What?

I say "No I won't!"
Then I get Cam and my purse, and for extra dramatic effect it just happens to be pouring rain. I march to the counter and in a calm/rage-filled voice demand to see the manager. I tell her what has happened. I point out that I went through the DRIVE-thru to avoid taking my baby out in the cold rain.
I'm livid.
Furious.
Fucking ON FIRE.

The manager says she is sorry and asks what drinks. I tell her, and then I look Ms. Bitch in the face and say...
"I'll also need ketchup and an apology."
The manager says she is sorry.
I say, "NOT from you. You weren't rude to me. I need HER to apologize. NOW. I will wait, because I'm not leaving until she apologizes."

Damn right. I'm not usually so fired up... but I did NOTHING wrong. I had no bad attitude... I was actually really patient and forgiving of her crappy attitude the whole time.
The manager is telling her to apologize. She is soooo not wanting to.
The Bitch says "What for?"
So I tell her exactly what she had done, and I throw in that it was rude and lazy.

IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE RESTAURANT, she finally says "sorrrry." She said it in the "I don't mean it way."

I stared her in the eyes and quietly said, "A REAL apology."

She said "sorry." And she walked away.

At this point, I was shaking I was so mad. I get the drinks and Cam and turn around. The ENTIRE place started clapping. For me.

I looked around. And started crying hysterically. My ugly cry. My contorted face cry. My "I'm so grateful for you random people supporting me" cry.

All in all, a victory. I felt empowered. Not the egotistical "I HAVE POWER... you don't talk to me like that." I felt the much more mature version... the "I'm not on a power trip, but I will demand you treat me as respectfully as I treated you."

Then I get home, tell Husband the story, and realize that the cunt gave me the wrong drink.

But still... I won the war. :)

One more thing about the weight---

When a friend comments on my weight, I see the compliment in it. It's when it's not a friend that bothers me... and I see the malice and the insecurity seeping out. Keep it to yourself is all I'm saying. I don't need your crap shoveled off of your doorstep onto mine.

So I'm skinny. Shut the f#*$ up.

I'm thin. Always have been, and most likely always will be. I've felt guilty about it ever since I can remember. I've shoved handfuls of cheese fries in my mouth in front of people who I'm sure would like to have seen me smacked. I eat what I want when I want and I've never thought twice about any of it. Now... I don't sit on my ass and pig out in front of the tv either. I'm not a lazy person. I get up. I move. I have sex. I play with my kids. I eat small portions because I'm a small person. I have genetics on my side. I'm not being pompous here, I'm being honest. I'm skinny. It's okay to be skinny. I'm fortunate. But I am not going to feel bad about it anymore. I've noticed while driving lately... a lot of the obese people I see driving next to me are shoving fast food in their mouths. I don't know if I can feel sorry for them. I know people who are losing weight. I see them working hard. I see them turning down a brownie when I know they want it really really bad. (Then I see me eating that brownie after they leave. I like brownies. Sue me.)
Anyway, back to my point. I'm tired of feeling guilty, so I won't. I don't come up to you and say you look as wide as a house. You don't need to point out that I'm skinny, unless it's a genuine compliment. Backhanded, undersided bullshit doesn't count. If it bothers you so much that you feel the need to be passive aggressive... think about where that's coming from. Think about what it is that is broken inside you and where the insecurity comes from. Women are too mean to each other as it is.

People

I've never understood how people can say one thing and then do another. How they can say they want one thing, then do everything in their power to prevent that one thing from happening.

If you're going to the gym to workout and have no kids with you, you should park far away. You're there to exercise, why spend 5 minutes circling so you can get the first spot?

That grocery cart you're done with? Put it back. When I 'politely' offer to put it back for you because you've left it standing in the middle of the lot on a slope aimed at my car... I'm trying to impart some knowledge.

Don't shove your beliefs on random people. While shopping, I was told by the sweetest old lady that my kids were beautiful, but if I didn't raise them in the blood of Jesus Christ, I was dooming them to an eternity of suffering. I just wanted some milk and granola bars.

No one will notice if Husband goes missing.

Buddha has been testy lately. He hasn't been himself and has thrown a few colossal fits. I thought we were past this... but alas, we are not. I was emailing Husband to say that I thought 3 1/2 was too old to throw fits... and should we be worried?

His response:
Some kids throw fits until they are 30 years and 12 days old. I think it is normal for a 3 year old to throw a fit.

What a clever little man he is.

The Ultimate Birthday

I can't even begin to describe how amazing my 30th birthday was.

It started with a suprise bday party/playdate, complete with delicious cake and great friends. I cried in the car when we left. What have I done to deserve these people?
It continued with a Husband full of wonderful things to say and fantastic presents. I cried when I read the note that came with my present. He's too wonderful, I'm so happy he's mine.

Saturday was the day after my actual bday. But the greatness continued. I joined a gym and am really excited. In only 3 weeks I've already noticed a difference. My best friend came into town for the party. One of my childhood friends whom I adore came into town with her great new husband for the party too. I must say, I felt really loved this weekend. Seeing what people are willing and eager to do for me, just to make me happy, means so much to me. I cried several times. I teared up a lot. Just thinking about the little and big things people were doing for me. The simple notes and messages and emails I got... the bday wishes... just knowing that people thought about me.

On to the party.
Holy freaking cow.
It was unbelievable. By far the BEST party I've ever been to. And not just because it was half mine, but because it flowed. Everyone there was happy and having a good time. It felt like everyone had known each other for years. It was just SO PERFECT. Now, I'm not just saying that because I was drunk. And ohhhh was I drunk. I truly think that it was the best birthday ever... for me, and for my birthday buddy C. Several things that were said to me that night involved how truly beautiful the people in my life are: inside and out. One perso told me that "you and your friends are all just so happy, so genuine and real, and your children are so fortunate to have this kind of love around them." It was the greatest compliment. Thank you. I'm very sincere when I say that I've never been so proud of my life: my family, my friends, and my day to day. And those of you who couldn't make it--- we missed you. Rematch next year?

I would give details, but I know other bloggers were there and they will write it way better than I would. (And I barely remember most of it) So I'll just skip to the end.

I was druuuunk. Husband put my Amanda and me into a cab and gave us $60. He and the rest of the party headed to locale #2. I was in no shape for a second location. Husband told me this piece of wisdom: If you're going to puke, do it in your purse and not in the cab. People... I had to vomit. It came on so fast. And what did I do?
I pursevomited. Repeatedly. We finally make it home and get to my front door when I realize my house key... is in my purse. Which now weighs about 8 lbs and is full of a gallon of vomit. So what did I do? I stuck my hand in and found my keys.

It was my most expensive and relatively new purse and wallet. I will never take Husband's advice when it comes to puking directives.

The morals of the story:
I love you all, you enrich my life in so many ways. Thank you for making this such a special time for me.
My Husband is truly an amazing, sensitive man.
Don't vomit in your purse.
Always get the live band.
What happens at the party, stays at the party.