Lies My Parents Told Me and Other Tirades

Okay, first entry. I have to warn you, I'll probably post everyday for a short while and then forget about it, like I have every othere journal/diary I have ever kept. We had to keep one in English class once and I spent an entire night writing 2 months of entries, cleverly altering pens, because I sometimes have a short attention span.

The reason I'm starting this is the Cadbury Creme Egg thread, about how they've gotten smaller, but Cadbury claims that its just cause we've gotten bigger. So I started thinking about lies, and how we've all been lied to, we all lie to each other, and most importantly, how we lie to ourselves. I'm not trying to get all dark and depressive, white lies are a survival technique, and lying to ourselves helps us from going insane.

So a lie my parents told me (in no particular order):
#1 Your Face Will Grow Into Your Nose.
No Mom and Dad, I have a big nose. It's by no means Cyrano de Bergerac size, it does not scare little children and to be honest no one has ever called me Gonzo. But it's sizeable. My Mom's German and my Dad was Irish, not a great small nose gene pool. I remember my Dad telling me this when I was a little Rigby, and I remember being slighty scared of the idea- how huge would my face have to get? Were we talking Andre the Giant big? When I watched the movie the Elephant Man and he killed himself by laying down without a pillow for his massivily huge head, I had nightmares for years. I was a three to four pillow girl- I now have it down to just two, and if it's large and firm enough, just one will do for a night. I don't hate my nose, it looks fine straight on, but sometimes in profile, I think for a moment that a nose job isn't such a vain procedure after all. But I'm too scared, and the price is still a little high. Plus have you seen one done on a sugery show? Gross! But if the price was right....it's not like I'm Michael Jackson, just a little reduction would make me happy.

Stay tune for more lies my parents told me, and other things that just bug me. Like people who don't use their turn signal, it's right by you hands, people! Not hidden in the backseat or in your glove compartment, would it kill you to move one finger and flick the turn signal ever so slightly up or down? Seriously! Feel free to comment on lies your parents told you, or if you're still at home, lies your parents are currently feeding you. Or if you have a burning hatred for people who won't use their turn signals---especially if they have sped up just to cut you off and turn in front of you seconds later. If you are one of the despised people who don't use your turn signal, please state why, is it laziness or just reckless disregard for traffic laws? Okay- it's really late and I have to go back to work tomorrow. : (

Hmm, made it to the second entry, haven't lost interest yet...


Lies My Parents Told Me
#2. They can kill you but they can't eat.
My father liked to tell me this when I was afraid to face up to someone, or if I was nervous about performing in front of an audience. But he was wrong, some people are cannibal.There's sickos out their like Jeffery Dahmer and Kevin Underwood- although he only planned to eat people, he was caught before he got the chance, right here in good, safe Oklahoma. I don't know why my father thought this pearl of wisdom should comfort me even it was true. What do I care if someone eats me after they kill me? Trust me, if for some reason everyone on HE is on the same plane and we crash, I give you guys permission to eat me if I die before you. I bet I taste sweet *g*

Maybe I'll add more later...

Later:
Okay, a customer came in, and she's a nice girl, but she spent most of the time scratching her leg. And it was big, deep scratching. It was gross, although I was spared a little by the fact that she was wearing pants and not shorts, but still...ugh. Now I have visions of poisen ivy dancing through my head, or what if she just came back from the rain forest with some kind of contagious itching disease that eventually turns people in to brain eating zombies? She kept switching hands too, as if the itch was everywhere...thank God for Purell hand sanitizer...

Getting a jump start on Sunday's post:

Lies My Parents Told Me

3. No matter how good you are at something there will always be someone better at it than you.
Wow, way to be a downer, dad! Now this particular lie is true when applied to myself, but seriously, there are a few talented individuals out there that truly are just better at what they do than anyone else. Chris Martin comes to mind *g* Stephen King is the very best horror writer of his age. What is the point of gold medals in sporting events if not to point out that at the moment you are the best of the best? I suppose my dad was trying to humble me but I was never a very self-centered kid to begin with. So now I have trouble taking compliments, because a part of me believes that I always could have done a better job, that someone else out "there" would have done it better. No warm cuddly everyone- has -one -special -talent advice from my parental units. Gosh, I sound bitter, but honestly I had an okay childhood, and my parents pretty much left me alone in my teen years, and in return I got good grades and stayed out of any real trouble (well, except that time I stole a tray from McDonald's on a dare--I didn't get caught but I was so afraid that the police were going to show up at my house that I gave the tray to my friend Miranda and gave a tearful confession to my father, who laughed at me. So McDonald's had to replace the tray I'm sure, and they probably upped the price of Big Mac's because of other juvenile deliquents like myself, so I'm sorry for that!).


Now for Something Random That My Father Said To A Clerk At Circuit City That Has Become Family Legend: "Don't make me cloud up and rain all over your ass!"
Okay, backstory time. Once, a long , long time ago DVD players were still pretty new. My parents, eager to spoil there first, and at the time only, granddaughter, decided to buy her a dvd player so that she could watch Disney dvd's to her heart's content. So my dad and my favorite brother Michael embarked on a quest to find just the right one for Sam. My father had spent long hours researching the dvd player he wanted to buy, and he knew exactly what he wanted. The thing you need to know about my dad is that he was very intelligent and he had very little patience for people who could not function on his level of thought process...so pretty much everyone. Anyways, the ever helpful electronics clerk, no doubt looking to up his comission, made the tragic error of offering my father a extended warranty on the dvd player. According to Michael, Dad loudly asked why he would need the warranty, was the clerk trying to sell him a piece of crap? The clerk at this point should have cut his losses and ran, but he soildered on in a bizarre suicide mission. My father starting grinning, amazed at the clerk's stupidity. Michael stepped back because there was no cajoling my dad out of a bad mood. His quick temper just needed to explode, and he always got over things super fast (Mom's the brooder). Finally, having had enough, Dad uttered one of the top Cavanaugh Family Quotes Of All Time (all which he contributed interestingly enough): "Don't make me cloud up and rain all over your ass." I'm am still searching for the right oppurtunity to use that line on my own over-eager store clerk, but it hasn't happened yet. I know that it will someday, and my pops will smile down on me from heaven...well, more likely grin. *g*

lmaooooooooooooooooooooooooo thats hilarious, kate!!

Thanks Becca, I hope this is amusing someone! *g*

Drumroll, please!

Lies My Parents Told Me #4
You'll be the first person I tell.
Lie spoken many, many times by my mother. For some reason my mom likes to keep bad news from me, sometimes for years. Obviously now that I no longer live in the same state than my mom the length between bad news happening and me hearing about has only gotten worse. First I have a ridicilously large family (both parents were Catholic... therefore the extended family breeds like bunny rabbits). So every once in a while I get an out of nowhere update on Everyone Who Has Died, Married or Given Birth. Now usually the cousin or aunt to uncle has been dead several months, and I usually have to ask before she pauses and says "oh, Uncle Germaine actaully passed away recently" My mother defines recently a lot looser than me. My mom just doesn't like to upset people, at least that's what she claims. I have my doubts, because as I've tried to point out to her, it is much more traumatic to realize that someone that you thought was alive has actually been dead almost 5 months. When my dad got cancer the first time it took both my parents over 6 months before telling any of us kids, and I was still in high school so I was in the same house! I only got to find out because he had to have a very unpleasant surgery. And since I am the baby of the family I really was the last to know. And when my dad got sick for the last time we didn't know until he was in the hospital in the ward that they stick you when you don't have much chance of making it. Of course, this time my dad was the one who was keeping his health from everyone. My parents were the King and Queen of Self Delusion. Now I see the same traits in myself, which is not a hugely bad thing, because it does enable me to stay a pretty happy person most of the time. But I don't want to end up keeping my children in the dark...which I'll probably end up doing anyway

Just a quick note- I am now a third year!!! Yeah!!!! Only a billion more before I'm 4th year!

Also- I did my graphics challenge 4 pics...finally. And I managed to use Paint Shop 7, which I still have not mastered, but at least its a start. Also did my most hated ship graphic..Hinny..I found a great pic of them, ginny almost looks like someone Harry would fall for...so Go Me for doing some work. I might just get to my duels and Fashion Show before the deadline...maybe : )

Oops, no May entries...well I never promised you a rose garden (which is a very stupid saying adults like to say, plus it's a famous book title). Anyway I've been busy just with life and I wasn't on HE every 5 minutes like I used to be so the diary was the first thing I sacrificed, but I'll try to get to it. May went by so fast and now so is June, which means July 4th will be here before we know it.

Now I happen to love our Independance Day, the fireworks, the patriotism...but this July 4th will mark the 7th anniversary of my father's death. Sometimes I am at peace with not having him around, but every once in a while I find myself getting all emotional again. I suspect that it's because Aaron and I are about to start a family and that of course just makes me think more of my own. My dad was often a diffucult parent, but he was an incrediable grandfather and I can't believe he won't be here when I finally have children.

On a brighter note- An Amusing Story of my Fathers:

When my dad and mom were newly married (in the brief time they had before children) JfK was elected president. During his inagural parade it snowed in DC (blizzard like conditions). My mom and dad lived in DC because my father was going to college at George Washington University. So dad and his buddy (sorry can't remember his name) went to the parade and along the route they have thes big wooden presidential shields up. My father and his friend ( and here I can only guess that they might have been a little drunk despite the fact that my dad hardly ever drank( came up with a plan to steal the presidential shields. So that night my mom stayed home a kept a pot of hot chocolate warm while dad and his friend went back and forth stealing two shields, one for his friend and one for him. When my father was passing away I took the time to write down his version of that night and after his death Mom gave the shield to me. The reason the story is amusing is mostly because dad's friend when on to become and FBI agent and my dad went on to work for the US Navy Department and I'm sure stealing the shields was some kind of federal offense...which I am now harboring..hmmm.

No July entries either... I'm on a roll!

So let's see, a lie my parents (or really any adult figure) told me when I was a kid....okay, this might not qualify but...


Lie # 5:

"Quit crying, you're not really hurt!" Um, yeah, actually I am hurt. That's why I'm crying! Now I sense that this is something I will unfortunately say to my own children, because it's ingrained in my DNA. It's probably in yours too. Let me give you a visual:
Picture this; a little girl with long, long, super long hair. Imagine it all tangly because in the summertime she runs around all gypsy like and its still a safe enough world that she can do this without her parents attaching a tracking device to her leg. Her parents eject her from the house early in the morning, before her tummy can even begin to digest the cereal she woofed down. Now her parents use the excuse that it's too nice a day for her to stay indoors, but even at her tender age she realizes that this is a big fat lie (I will address the need parents fill to ban their children from indoors at the least little sign of sunshine at a later date.) So our little herione, lets call her Lil Rigby, basically spends from sun up to sun down outside. Like a little vagabond she and her friends spend day after day wondering the neighborhood, getting into all kinds of shenanigans. Lil Rigby comes home only to be fed, and avoids all attempts of washing up. She has been known to hiss like a cat when confronted with bathtime, and to be honest Lil Rigby's parents don't push the issue as hard as they should. But then D-day arrives, someone is coming to visit and suddenly Lil Rigby has to look presentable. Her brother is sent outside to track her down, as an ex gypsy himself he knows all her best hiding spots. Lil Rigby is quite gullible and her brother is a great liar so she is easily lured home. She is ordered to take a bath and after many long talks about how water does not actually burn people (Lil Rigby had perhaps watched Wizard of Oz one time too many), she concedes. She emerges from the bathroom clean and almost sparkly. Lil Rigby even puts on a dress with nary an argument. All is well until the hairbrush is pulled out. Lil Rigby begs and pleads, and no man on death row has ever been so elequent. Her mother is the iceberg that brought down the Titantic, in other words she is immovable on the issue. Now, Lil Rigby's hair is beyond messy, it is in fact a bit matted in places. Her mother refers to it as "a rat's nest". Lil Rigby now fears rodents living in her hair and coming out at night to crawl on her face. Then the first contact is made between hair and bristle. In the next few years Lil Rigby's scalp will toughen, accustomed to hairbrush abuse, but at this moment she is still tender headed and can't understand why her mother, the woman who claims to love her, is ripping out her hair strand by strand. Despite the fact that Lil Rigby has cried and cried, and immedialty retreats into a fetal position once the brushing is done has no effect on the mother, who utters the famous line of "Oh stop whining, you're not really hurt." Lil Rigby uncurls from the fetal position, after all what was so safe about a position that she had spent nine months in, growing in the belly of her tormentor? This line is told to Lil Rigby over the next few years, usually over hair brushing, but a few times when her older brother hits her (that's right, older by 7 years! It's like a lion swatting at a mouse!).

Anyway, people have different thresholds of pain, Moms and Dads of the world. Lets try to keep that in mind before your child joins my group. The group of the De-Sensitized Scalps, it's not a club anyone wants to be a member of, trust me.

i know exactly what that is like my mother did exactly the same thing to me! except if i tried to bolt she would just grab my long hair so i could go anywhere no i can run the brush through my hair even if its so knotty it would have any other woman screaming and running for the hair dresser!