Also, Amazon took my camera back, after the complete failure of Canon’s repair service to right my camera or their snarky customer service to right the situation.  Amazon even footed the bill for shipping.  I’m totally typing up the complete story for people who Google “Canon customer service” to find. To top if it, the last message I got from them wasn’t even polite, after I never verged from good manners myself.

I have refrained from telling the story in detail, in the hopes that they might fix the situation.  Fuck that.  Remind me to never buy a Canon ever again.

And, well, this is kind of funny.  But I’m sleep-deprived enough to actually be hallucinating a little a few times a day.  I see things that aren’t there and hear things that aren’t happening.  This is getting a little scary.

Why are such people always the ones you are stuck tip-toeing around, ones you can’t just tell to fuck off?

In an attempt to make everyone think I’m nice (and perhaps to make myself nicer in the process), I always answer and always return.  Call and response style.  And yesterday, I’m pretty sure that someone with whom I work made fun of me for it. I fully realize that “well” is the correct response, not “good.”  But we don’t speak in proper English, do we? And they weren’t making fun of my responding with “Good,” but with the fact that my consistent response to, “Hi, John[ny]. How are you?” is, “Good. How are you?”  I mean, if I was being implicitly accused of being formulaic and insincere for responding to the same question in the same way, I could certainly charge the same person with asking the same question.  If my static response is insincere, what would that say about the static initial question?

And let’s not get started on the sheer stupidity involved in getting annoyed at a constant response to a constant stimulus. Let’s not get started. (I do that too much to get started getting mad at other people for it.  Heh heh heh.)

My neighbor who was blaring Matchbox 20′s song out the window this morning, over and over and over again.  This is funny because I thought of, “I want to push you down — down the stairs!” and giggled.  Maybe it was a break-up song.  I don’t know.  But if that song reminds you of a person with whom you’ve been in a relationship, well, maybe you’re better off broken up.  There.

When people who think entirely too much of themselves have egg on face.  This is especially funny when the egg is on their face because they didn’t listen to you when you answered their question that they asked while you were on the phone (!) and obviously busy. (What’s less funny is when they seem to want to blame you for this bad information, like you did it on purpose.)

How my daughter laughed her little ass off last night when I was changing her and doing funny voices.

All the cussing I did this morning trying to get my office window propped open, and especially when our archivist turned out to be right behind me right then.

Things that are NOT funny today:

Getting “advice” from someone more clueless than you are.  It’s no fun when someone who never puts forth much effort jumps on you for a perceived and very temporary lack of effort.  Especially not when said person has their head further up their ass than you do yourself and has much less wisdom — which is to say very far and none at all.  Sheeeet, don’t we all know like five people like this?

The upcoming heatwave.

People who are bad listeners.  Bad listening isn’t a bad habit.  It’s a manifestation of a character flaw, i.e., being selfish and/or self-absorbed.  I mean, come one.  Learn to be self-absorbed and a good listener like those of us in the know.  (Geez!)  If you read this blog, you know that I hate bad listeners and refuse to get over it.

People who walk into rooms already running their mouths, assuming that nothing’s going on and that everyone wants to hear about their aches, their breakfast and their cat/dog/car.

Things which are happening today:

Me sitting at work, when I’d rather enjoy the spell of gorgeous weather taking my daughter for a walk or sitting outside with my pals enjoying coffee and running from spiders or having a beer with my parents on their deck or just watching a movie with my wife.

My boss is back, but I only have six weeks left on my contract and will be jobless by mid-August.

My least favorite month has started.

I will make a list and post it on the internet.

Oh, I don’t know — maybe having to constantly hand-hold people on the same sinking boat you’re on?  I’m tired of being everyone’s flippin therapist.  I repeat: If you’re a good listener, be careful who you let find out.

I need to make people who like to vent to me stop talking down to me, especially when I’m smarter and more “with it” than they are.  The next person on whom I’ve got 30 IQ points who calls me “Sweetheart” is getting poop in their shoes.  Mine.

No, it’s not you.

I don’t recall what I’d consider sufficient fanfare when BP closed it’s alternative energy HQ last year, proving that anything “beyond petroleum” must mean either money or, how I’d like to refer to them, as BEYOND THE PIPELINE (and forgive me if greater minds have already made this pun).  By insufficient fanfare, I mean that even people I know without their heads completely up their collective butt[s] (which is to say only half, which is the best that most of us achieve) didn’t know about it.

Anyway, I’m hoping that Michael Moore checks WordPress tags because, if he’s not going to make a film with this title, he should.  Please do.  I’m interested in what choice of music we could look forward to and hearing certain political factions blubber when they have to answer questions they’re not prepared for, when they’re not chanting like Nazi’s or war protesters who don’t really believe what they’re saying.

I know I’m not the only one who’s disappointed in what appears to be a lack of action from President Obama.  What more can he do?  Well, I want to see a video going around YouTube featuring text that runs something like this.

Now I’m calling on all Americans to not only boycott BP [pause] but also to try and [pause] live a little differently [pause] because this oil spill is the fault of BP, yes [pause] we know that.  We know that this company is run by greedy white men who are backed by greedy white politicians.  [pause]  But do you know who really caused this oil spill, America?

[really big pause]

You did.

[big pause]

You brought this on us, you selfish, lazy motherfuckers.  [pause]  Your insistence on driving yourselves all over the place in your big fucking cars and trucks and SUVs.  [pause]  You short-sighted pieces of shit who complain that you “need” your fucking cars instead of using your imaginations and arranging your life, your location, your activities a little differently.  [pause]  Because when you say that you “need” your cars, you’re saying that you are unwilling to change anything about your life but instead insist that the oil industry, the auto industry, the basics of chemistry and physics through which you are killing our motherfucking planet –  [pause]  You’re insisting that these things all change so that you don’t have to.  [pause]  That, or you’re so fucking stupid and sheepish that you’re willing to believe that climate change is not real, that our fat fucking lazy stupid asses aren’t killing the planet on which we live.  [pause]  In which case, well, goddam.  What good are ya?  Reason won’t get at ya.

[pause]

Needing cheap oil is needing something we can’t always have.  Needing your car to live is not something you can always do.

[pause]

And the rest of you non-car-owning, self-righteous fucking elitists (yes, Johnny, I’m talking to you in Baltimore), think of all the plastic you use, all the gas it takes to get your hemp wallet to you in the UPS truck.  [pause]  You couldn’t live the way you live without cars, either, you goddam hippies.

[big pause]

So, my fellow Americans.  [pause]  Blame yourselves for this bullshit.  But still [pause], don’t fucking buy gas from BP with which to,  you know [pause], drive your fat asses around.

[big pause]

Thank you, and goodnight.

I want to hear nothing but family values types shouting for his impeachment for his angry and violent speech at people who might actually deserve pipes pumping oil into various of their orifices but who, in the land of the free, only get yelled at a lot by the President, himself a mighty speech-maker.  Then I will be happy.

Because I am living proof that, if you can’t actually do anything (or are unwilling to), you can just rant and cuss.  And you will feel better.

But I’ve also spent a lot of time being really, genuinely, deeply pissed off. A shortened list:

1) People who put their issues over what is best for our child, even over what’s best for us as parents and as individuals. This started mere hours after Charlotte was born when someone thought their own issues were more important than, you know, the birth of a child. And our parenting instincts reared themselves in a flash, showing us both to be not only intensely protective of our daughter, but also violently so — if words and feelings can be violent in their own way (which I think is so).

2) People who feel entitled to our daughter. This includes demanding that we let whoever wants to hold her do so whenever and for as long as people want, despite not contributing to her welfare in any way (that is, people who just want to hold babies and think that they are entitled to it, like babies are fashion accessories to get your picture taken with and uploaded to Facebook); expecting that we not only arrange our schedule around when they demand a visit but also that we should arrange the needs and comfort of a newborn to their availability; people who, for some reason, think they deserve our time and attention when we have a newborn who actually does deserve it and need it.

3) People judging our parenting, whether they’ve done it before or not. This has ranged from two people exchanging “knowing” looks when we said that Charlotte does not like her formula heated up, to people telling us what to do, to people assuming they know our kid better than we do — even after spending five minutes with her. All kids are different, and it’s insulting to assume that anyone knows our kid better than we do. She likes some weird stuff, and some things that would drive a lot of kids crazy don’t bother her one lick. She’s also moving very quickly, in some ways, developmentally.

4) People not thinking. This includes being more rough than we like, blowing cigarette smoke, being too loud, coming to our home and getting our week-old daughter sick, etc. I’m sure this is a universal symptom of parenthood. But so is watching your child get sick, falling down, moving out — and knowing that you’ll miss a good chunk of his or her life because you’ll be dead. I don’t like those, either. Who does?

The worst is the effect it has on me as a father and as an overly-reflective person in general. I see unwelcome and unfounded criticisms and questioning of our parenting as a personal attack on my intelligence and worldly wisdom. I want to smack people who want us to arrange our child’s life around their schedule and availability and then get mad and passive-aggressive when we don’t (because we can’t). I walk around in the grocery store with our sweet little baby strapped on, plotting with my wife how to avoid situations that just make us mad, when I should be enjoying Charlotte, or, at least, getting the shopping over with so we can go play. I get mad when people do things I don’t like and don’t think are good for my daughter, and then I get mad at them for the fact that I don’t have the stones to set people straight unless I’m closely related to them. I get mad when people don’t respect our (really mine – everyone respects mothers’ “authority” more than fathers’ in my experience) position as The Boss[es] because we’re new parents, but I don’t really do anything about it other than get mad – and then I get mad about that.

But I have to get over it. Some of this is just a case of jerks who have found new ways to be bungholes and a general state of people being lazy and selfish (not that I’m immune, certainly). Some is just new. I’m sure that people are not going to stop judging and criticizing our parenting anytime soon, and we’re upset about it because it’s so new. Sheesh, wait until she grows up an unbaptized vegetarian riding the bus! We need and I need to assert our authority when people do things we don’t like or demand things they have no right to. People are always going to offer her things we don’t think are good for her, teach her things we want to teach her ourselves or don’t want her taught, bring things (smoke, judgments, sickness) around her despite our best efforts. I suppose that, if I want people to remember that we are in charge, they need to reminded it when they over-step themselves.

One thing we try to judge things by is what effect this or that will have on Charlotte. Someone is demanding our time. What have they done/will they do to benefit Charlotte?

My parents do a lot for us and a lot for Charlotte (Hi, Grandma!), and she already looks at them differently than she does other people. They have an open invitation to visit whenever they want, and I’m glad that they take us up on it regularly. On the other hand, someone who never expressed interest in Mama being pregnant, who never called or emailed or anything – well, we’re not going to break ourselves arranging our lives around a visit with people who don’t care about Charlotte but are just curious or bored. No one is entitled to Charlotte in any way, not even her parents. Someone demands our time as individuals (as opposed to as parents). That takes away from time with Charlotte, and I don’t know anyone I like that much. My patience is reserved for my child who can only express herself by crying and screaming and flailing her limbs.

When we relate everything back to Charlotte, the right course of action or thought is clear. What makes us better parents and what benefits Charlotte wins. Period. Her parents having the final say without being subject to constant judgment, without thoughtless people making demands on their time, without having grudges held against them because we don’t schedule our child’s life and needs around their free time – these are good for Charlotte. They win. Everything else is poo, and I know a lot more about poo since becoming a father.

Then I marvel that love can be the source of anger and frustration – and even hate – when it’s protective love for a child. It seems that loving my child intensely precludes loving certain people and things that are bad for her or bad for her parents in a way that affects her.

In the end, the being who makes all of this mean anything comes to the front again, and I just sit and stare at my daughter and feel like a sillybutt for letting myself get upset over such diddlypoop.

Three weeks old, and we have a revenge list! (kidding)

1) Keep their issues to themselves.

2) Keep their issues to themselves.

3) Stop demanding things of either of us.  Unless you live under a rock, you know that new parents don’t sleep, don’t have any time and are more than a little consumed with taking care of and admiring their new child.

4) Respect our decisions.

I’ve found that a lot of the same people who make a show of sympathy, empathy and understanding also get pissed when there is no patience and no “consideration” left for them.  My immediate family is not, thankfully, pulling any of this crap.  The opposite, actually.  But my immediate family is pretty small, and the slew of other people that demand attention for themselves in favor of my newborn child is a larger list of people.  Passive-aggressiveness over perceived slights at the lack of returned phone calls, meet-ups, emails, etc.?  Seriously?

Fortunately, we have — or, at least, I have — resolved to just not care about other people’s feelings right now.  Easier said than done, I know.  But on nights like tonight, where the poop’s flying, and Charlotte’s not sleeping, and I find myself with less patience left for her because of some fartpooper who’s being passive-aggressive because our priority has been our child, well, that makes it easier.

I don’t think I’m going to make it to the end of the month without snapping at someone for being a jerk.

I’m still reserving some patience for people who suggest meat for an infant.  Because, well, if someone thinks a six-month old should eat a steak, well, that’s so stupid that I’m not going to lose my patience.  Same with suggesting that meat-based diets are miraculously healthier than non-meat-based diets.  Sure, I know some meat-eaters (many, in fact) who eat healthier than some vegetarians I’ve known.  But that had more to do with dumbass vegetarians than meat being inherently good for you.

I shouldn’t say it, but people have been quiet about the no car thing.  Good.  Now that I’ve said it, this silence is going to stop, and we’ll have to start citing statistics to show that putting a kid into a car is what’s dangerous, if you wanna, you know, get scientific and factual about it and all.

We also picked a bouncy chair in very pink pink pink.  But, in our defense, the others were ugly.  The rest of her room could pretty much work for any human being, regardless of gender.  It’s that awesome.

But, maybe we’re not softening up as much as I think.  I think resoluteness feels more natural now, and I don’t feel like we’re being stern unnecessarily.