Part 2. The Love

Ignore all that, below. It was a necessary thing for me to say.  I can only carry such strong feelings around, for so long, without spilling them somewhere. If it must be read, it serves only to juxtapose how much overwhelming love I have for Luiz's Real Family.

Luiz's cousin Tatiana is a sweet, deeply insightful, intelligent woman, with two sons around Alden's age.  Her mother is Luiz's mother's sister.  She visited last month, and it was our first meeting face to face.  We'd gotten to know each other a bit on Facebook, and of course she's heard all about me through certain other avenues (demonic bitch, that I am), so she had no idea what to expect, upon visiting here.  She came anyway, and slept over, and we hit it off well. Lots of drinking and unplanned partying, and her visit was over too soon with a hangover, and promises to hang out some other time. It really did my heart good to see Luiz connecting with other members of his family, ones that accept him.  He needs that level of support and love in his life, especially fighting the struggle with his mother.  

Well, this time she visited and brought her own mother, Janis, and sons with her, for a slightly longer (and thankfully less alcohol soaked) visit.  Tati knows about us, and in a surprising act of forthrightness, she told her sons about us, which I am so thankful and taken aback about.  I mean, our kid knows, obviously, but most people shield their kids from diversity.  I love that about her.  Of course her mothers knows about us too, from hearing Eliane's (Luiz's mom) bitching about us.  They came here, with an open mind, and open hearts, the same as I treat everyone I meet.  It. Was. Wonderful.  Our sons played perfectly together, her kids are so bright and well behaved, I couldn't pick better companions for Alden.  Tati is a devoted mother, and it really reflects in her boys.  She also brought us a cake that made me moan and warble and rendered me speechless.  It might have even swayed me over to Team Cake. Alden is there visiting now, and I'm counting the days till Friday, and going to visit their house, and picking up my boy.

Janis (is that how I spell it?  From here on out, I'm gonna call her Titia which is "Auntie" in Portuguese, I think)  Anyway, Titia is a strong and crabby woman, and she's my kind of gal. She complains, and sort of ekes out her own place, roaming, asking questions, scrutinizing, naming, and making unedited commentary about everything that comes her way.  In the first half hour, we learned that she hates animals, children, and fat people!  And I said "you're gonna have a long night, lady" and we laughed.  Lots of laughing.   I saw a sort of challenging glint in her eye, upon first meeting us.  Reminded me of another dear woman in my life, who I miss a lot, Mrs. Metz.  Very forward and confrontational, and I love it.  Give me an honest person, and let me handle that as I may.  Apparently, I did well, because we got along great.  I think, at one point,  I said "no, you're not 'nice' but I totally love you!" and I meant it.  Nice people can go bite a lemon.  I have little patience with "nice" people.

I feel a measure of empathy for her, as she recently had a house fire, and lost all her worldly possessions. I can see it's depressing, but I can also see her moving through it, and earnestly trying to start a new life here.  But here, these women, they've heard the worst things about us.  They came here with Love in their hearts, for Luiz, and in return got lots of love back.  We laughed, last night, and talked deeply, and cried real tears for things out of our control, and felt hope for things within. I say We, because there's much chemistry, and I feel like a lost cousin, myself.  There's no awkwardness, Tati and Titia have made me feel like a member of this wild, vivid, passionate, and hilarious sisterhood of the powerful women that Luiz has been raised around.  I felt tears, and a lump in my throat, when Titia referred to me offhand, a few times, as "niecy".  I'm getting emotional just thinking back on it.  My own family is small, and sometimes distant, so to be casually adopted into this one fills my heart with such joy, I don't even have words.

I also felt, as the evening dwindled to a close, a sense of melancholy.  Eliane, this raving crazed thing, that Luiz has to face as his mother figure, was discussed at length.  I felt, as though, the Sister that she used to be, one of this family of awesome Scarlet Women, has died, and we are left only with the ghost of her, wishing she were there, wishing she could share in our meal and laughter. It felt like the coming together and acceptance, and sharing of ideas, histories, cultures, that one would hope for any families meeting, like something a mother should be doing, not an aunt.

Perhaps there will be mending.  Hope springs eternal.

Part 1. The Hate.

I am bubbling over with things to write, but I'm not sure where to start, here. Such an overwhelmingly positive, and profoundly moving weekend.  I guess I'll just start listing the thoughts that are trotting around in my head.

It feels good to be living an open and honest life, free from fear of judgement, persecution, and rejection.  It's not something I talk about in public places, but it's good to be "out of the closet" about our life together.  We kept it very secret, concealing and dissembling for years, out of fear of the above.  In the past 8 months, we've decided to just live life, and not quite advertise our status, but not seek to cover it up either. Let people think what they think, and answer questions that come openly and honestly.  Luiz has taken things a little further with his family, doing like Luiz does, and just telling them flat-out, that we're all together.  Which, at first, I felt weird about, but now not only am I ok with it, but feel downright good about things.  

I've been dancing around writing something like this for a long time.  I try to make it a point not to dwell, speculate, or gossip.  I vow never to talk shit about this woman, to anyone. It's not my way, to continue hate.  However, I do need to get it off my chest, here, in my little world.  I need to tell the truth in my own way, as it affects me, and as I see it.

Luiz's mother is not coping well, with our familial development.   I feel enormous hate and jealousy from her, like a beacon, just waves and emanations of black hatred.  She's saying we're Satanic. She says I encorcelled him and cast evil Satanic spells to seduce her boy, and that he's just a parasite living with us, using us, and we're using him.  I wish I could live up to the powerful sorceress dominatrix sexual demon wrangling Jezebel she paints me as.  She's preaching this vitriol to whoever listens, and repeats these hate-mantras to herself.  She's gotten herself so worked up about us, she can't even bear the thought of her niece or sister visiting us.  She berates attacks, and grills other family members as to what we're doing, how we're doing, what's going on in my house, creating divisiveness in her own family, over the idea of me, and my household (oh, to have such power over a person, not a day goes by that she doesn't think about me. A hate so saturated it mirrors love.  If I weren't a Nice Girl, I would use that to my advantage.)  

So, that's Mom.  She's a fucking peach.  A peach being consumed from within by a worm in sheep's clothing.  It's something we have been trying to help Luiz cope with, and help him sort through every day.  Always Love. Love is the Law, and we've been talking it over, and how to best deal with this woman that turns Love into an instrument of her own manipulative, power hungry hate. It's hard for a son, who's mother has had such encompassing power over him, to accept, cope, and move on, or hope to reach through all that poison to find the human mother that he loves well, and that claims to love him.  But, we're trying, by God.  Love for him, and compassion for his situation causes me to stop and really try to help him work through all this.  Usually, I'd be all "oh, fuck them.  Fuck them, and I hope they all die with their intestines running out of their assholes. Fucking haters."  

I feel slight remorse for being such a wellspring of divisiveness in his family's lives. Also, I feel a bit blindsided.  I'd be lying if I said confused, because I know precisely what's going on here.  For my part, I never meant it to be this way, I have often invited her to my house, and made overtures, to draw the family closer. Before she knew, we chatted on the phone often, wrote back and forth, she's had my son as a guest in her house for days on end, and she's come here with her younger children, to eat and enjoy good company.  She loved us.  Before.  Luiz is part of our family, and has been accepted as such, invited to all gatherings, loved, and cherished as yet another oddball in our tiny little family group. My mother harangues him and bosses him about like she does her own brood, collectively calling us "The Kids".  On our side, nothing's changed.

I could never hope for the same, from her, only just a bit less hate, and a smidge more acceptance, is all I want for him.  For myself?  It wouldn't be so bad if she and her two lovely lambikins sons, got sealed in a capsule, and shot to the center of the sun...well, that's the nicest thing I can say.  I won't even get started on Luiz's brother, because I can't really speak of the dude without saying "self righteous snotbag" and "swimming in a filthy fishbowl of his own stagnant piss.", and really, there's no love.  So, with Love, I just move on.  Some people, like Luiz's brother,  are destined to wallow in their own stinking fishbowl, and that seems to be the whole story, for that kid.  I hope I eat my words, one day.  

That's the hate.  To move on to the Love, I had to get that right out of the way.  

New music from old bands

Last night, I half-assed listened to Dee Snyder on the Eddie Trunk show, and one of the points he brought up was that no one wants to hear new shit from classic bands, at shows, and furthermore, no one's interested in new music by old bands..  At first, I was like "yeah, bastards, play my favorites."  But then, I really thought about it.

Sure, I have a bad taste in my mouth about new music played the wrong way at shows.  Hello, Megadeth? No one wants to hear Risk from start to finish, then Countdown tacked on to the end of that 45 minute set.  I've never been so bored at a show in my life.  Or, how about when Metallica was touring for Load of Shit, and they played like 4 songs from that album, then 3 more songs from Re Load of Shit.  Then, to appease the masses (snort) they fucking made a MEDLEY of the old favorites.  I've never been so insulted at a show in my life.

So, initially, I was like "yeah.  Dee's right, no one gives a fuck."  But then...Look at Alice Cooper.  He cranks out a new album all the time, and I have them all and they're all stellar.  We went to his Brutal Planet tour, and the whole stage was done conceptually for that album, and he opened with a three song run of the storyline of that album, and you know what?  It blew my mind.  Similar concept for The Eyes of Alice Cooper, and he played a good smattering of new stuff.  But, it was done well, in between some great old ones, when the crowd was rocking, he just launched into it.  Kept us moving, kept us interested.  As far as releasing new music?  Rush's new stuff is deliciously heavy.  More please!  I'm sort of leaning on seeing them live.  I've got the opportunity to go, so maybe.  I'd like to see them play the new stuff! As long as they play a smattering of stuff from over their career.  Scorpions have a new album, and from what I've heard, it sounds really updated. They still have their signature tone, but again it's heavier, more intense, and a little more electronic.  Good on them, I hope they tour the shit out of it.

It's not about new music or not. It's about showmanship.  If you're conceited and douchey, like Iron Maiden who got pissed off at the fans, because the fans got pissed off that they were ONLY going to play their new album, on tour...then fuck you, get up there, and play my favorites, you trained circus monkey.  If, like Alice Cooper, they give us a taste, make us want more, make us want to buy the album, or tell our friends how awesome that new song is, live...then bring it on.  Showmanship.  Twisted Sister has the market cornered on showmanship, they really do bring it. But we've seen them live so many times, and they are so good about playing to the crowd, the set list rarely changes.  They lead with a certain song, bring other songs in the middle, close with others.  I have it memorized.  Nice, but hardly challenging.  For once, maybe Dee's playing it too safe.  Not that he's getting poor doing it.

Hoooolyfuck.

I had a panic attack this morning, and missed work.  I'm glad my job is not like your job, where stuff like that would be a black mark.

I was running late, and sort of frazzled, I forgot my car was out of gas, so I treated it like a typical morning, aiming to leave around 20 after.  Around quarter after, I remembered to check my sugar, and that's when I lost my mind. It came up at 388.  I had an immediate anxiety attack, my chest got heavy, my heart started pounding, Floaters appeared in front of my eyes.  THREE EIGHTY EIGHT.  My gut wrench reaction was to call my diabetes specialist, but I didn't.  First I had to calm down, and get ahold of myself.  All these scenarios are rushing through my head.  I forced myself to wash my hands, stop and think.  Have I eaten anything bad lately? Not really.  I had a beer last night, and a piece of white chocolate. This must mean I'm really sick all of a sudden, I've heard of that, people's pancreas's just totally crapping out.  I finished washing my hands well, and thought to try again, maybe it was a glitch or something.  Holyfuck.  I cleaned very well with alcohol, let it air dry, leaving nothing to chance, and took blood from the other hand.  110.  Normal.  Thank fucking god.

By then, I'd realized that it was 9:28, and not even calling in would help.

It was a real, serious scare.  You know, I live with this shit every day, and I take my pills, eat right-ish, and stay right on target.  Something like this, even though it was a mechanical glitch, was a real slap in the face. I mean, the number was astronomical.  Sort of fucked my whole day up.

I don't know if it's a result of the massive anxiety attack this morning, or what, but I haven't felt right all day.  I've had a weird headache, and like pressure in my head, like I have an ear infection, but without ear pain.  Or like I'm constantly in need of popping my ears, but they won't.  My vision has been a little wonky, too.

I'll be fine, I'm putting it behind me, not gonna make a fuss.  I told Irv, just so he knows I skipped work, and doesn't get pissy that I forgot the bank (because I totally did, till just now).

I'm back in spiders again.

For the longest time, I let my tarantula passion bank, and only kept two.  Good old hardy Dulce, a Grammostola pulchripes or Chaco Golden Knee, and Hazel a donated G. Rosea or Chilean Rose.  Then, I had to rehouse Dulce.  Buying the substrate, choosing a tank from among my many spares, and tank decor, miksing the substrate, wetting it just so, packing it in there, decorating, building hides, all the fun stuff leading up to the rehousing, then the actual act.  Where I moved Miss Dulce from her little Kritter Keeper, to her new 10 gallon forever tank.  It was a great day.  Now she's all over the place, fat, happy, active, digging, and just totally enthralling to watch.  


So...I went to Swifts, and ordered 4 more.  Well, three, and I got a freebie.  Now I'm so back into it, I half wonder why I ever got out.  Oh, I remember.  It's because I lost a string of slings all at once. Big money, and a disappointing loss of life.  It happens, though.  Fungus, a few escapees, and a cold draft finished off about 6 slings all within a few weeks.  That prevented me from buying any more for a long time. Eventually I lost Charity, then Priscilla died of old age, and all I had left were the two.


Right here on my desk now, are Cocoa the King Baboon or Citharischius crawshayi, who is two inches across, fat, furry, and a lovely dutch cocoa brown.  She's going to be enormous, with a thick body, and thick powerful legs.  One of the sturdiest specimens, and she really looks it.  Shy as hell, though.  Someone on the Arachnoboards said "Say bye to her, while she's out, because you'll never see her again" heh.  Mama Ji the Grammostola  Rosea, like Priscilla and Hazel, my first species, and still a favorite.  She's the second largest. Swift listed her as a half inch, as the freebie, but she's closer to 3/4" and looks ready to molt again.  With this order, I chose tarantulas I'd had already, and knew how to take care of, so I also got a Nhandu chromatus, or a Brazilian Red Rump.  They're so pretty, with long red setae, and striking banded black and white legs. They're docile, and get big.  Very showy.  She's only about a quarter inch from toe to toe, and I really hope this one makes it. I named her Olivia.  The final addition is a Brachypelma albopilosum or Honduran Curlyhair.  Never had this one before, but always wanted one.  Long fine cream colored setae covering the legs and body, with a darker black or brown underneath.  Fluffy spider.  Michele encouraged me to name it Bob Ross.  


I have them all in vials on my desk, besides Cocoa, who is in a deli cup.  Bob moved all his substrate to the top of the vial, making it look like a clump of dirt defying gravity, and instead chooses to live on the smooth bottom. It was amusing to watch him relocate all the substrate, and now difficult to feed. That's one thing I really adore about keeping them.  In spite of what most people might think, they do have definite personalities.  Levels of activity, shyness, agressiveness, defensiveness.  Just different patterns of behavior.  I love learning about them, trying to memorize the scientific names, and recreate habitats based on their natural environment. I love the act of naming them and showing them off to people (non arachnophobes, that is) I would never use them to scare people, just to sort of help build acceptance, and educate.  They really are fascinating creatures.


I'm so happy to have them, I'm already planning a wishlist for the nekst order.  I've already decided to limit the really tiny 2 instars, instead going for slings that are 1" or larger. I seem to have better luck that way.


My upcoming list includes:


another Pterinochilus Murinus or Usambar Baboon. Affectionately known as the OBT (orange bitey thing)- I had two of these guys, and they were a trip.  Very, er, animated and very orange. Very. The venom is a concern, but now that Alden's getting older, it wouldn't be fatal to any member of the household, just a huge pain.


Lampropelma violaceopes or a Singapore Blue.  Huge, blue, and a foray into arboreals.  I think I can handle it.  They look beautiful.  They're enormous.  What can I say, I'm a size queen.

Grammastola pulchra, the Brazilian Black, only because I've always wanted a slick black tarantula, the kind that looks like a Halloween decoration.  Docile, too.

Godamn my expensive hobbies.