Friday, March 03, 2006

News from the Home Front

Reporter: I'm sitting in the home office of Colorado resident "Jill." I understand your fever has exceeded 101 degrees and that you're slightly delirious...making your communication filters somewhat lax.

Jill: That's correct.

Reporter: What's on your mind right now.

Jill: Several things. I'm jealous and irked that my niece and a couple of family members have had "dream sightings" of my sister and my mom after they passed away. But I haven't. As I sat in the tub yesterday, I sobbed my heart out for all that I miss, all that I didn't do right, all that I still wanted to say. Why the hell would they make their presence known to their friends but not to me. That's not right.

Reporter: You mean it's not fair.

Jill: That's right.

Reporter: What else is running through your raging mind.

Jill: Those damned in-laws are on their way to Colorado. They're dirty and mess up my sheets and hand towels and carpets and walls every time they visit. They bring cases of beer and drink it at 8:00am while they eat cereal. In front of their kids. They are loud and obnoxious and don't care if they offend our neighbors. They always break something and can't afford to replace it. They always leave the front door open so at least one cat runs out and then I'm terrorized until we find him. They take doggie bags of food with them when they leave - before it's offered - and they always, always ask to "borrow" money. I am pissed off over the violence in their house. I am pissed off that they are so irresponsible. And I'm tired of being one of their safety nets. I'm ready to cut them off - but Husband isn't at that point. He isn't even angry at his brother over the spousal abuse issue, the fact that they drive drunk with the kids in the car....ugh. I suppose the good news is that I could really screw up and he would forgive me. But seriously, when is the time to say "ENOUGH" you rat bastards. Pull your freakin' lives together and grow the hell up. If you want the gift of children in your home, then get over yourselves and your raging obsessions. There are more important things in this world then You, you stupid fucks.

Reporter: Wow. That's pretty strong language.

Jill: I don't normally allow the dark side of my thoughts to escape. I rarely tell people how I truly feel because, well, it's usually judgmental and I'm sick of hearing peoples' opinions on my life.

Reporter: You're fairly heated on this subject...

Jill: Is that some kind of joke?

Reporter: Not intentionally.

Jill: Well. While I'm ranting. How about this. I'm tired of people telling me I'm too old to adopt. Shut up, because you have kids of your own. To those people who tell me that I look like Rosie O'Donnell. Shut up, and think about your words before they spew from your lips.

Reporter: You like that phrase, Shut Up.

Jill: No, I don't. I never, ever say it outloud because my mom screamed it at me throughout my childhood. And I swore on my soul that I would never say it to anyone. Because it's rude and vile. However, in the written form it sums up what I'm feeling fairly well.

Reporter: Do you ever dream of going back in time to stand-up to your mom and protest her treatment of you?

Jill: No. But I do dream of going back in time as an adult, and giving myself a big, loving hug. I never got those.

Reporter: How did that affect you?

Jill: I lacked compassion until my late 20's. People could get hurt right in front of me and I would feel nothing. I could look at a dozen kittens and feel nothing. Once, I was at a motocross race track and I accidentally tripped a six year old kid running past me. He fell and started to cry and I felt nothing. I just kept walking. I sometimes wonder what would have happened to me if I hadn't been able to open up and allow myself to feel love and emotion. I always imagined a life in jail.

Reporter: Jail!?

Jill: Yeah, but I think that it was a metaphor for my childhood, you know? I have never done anything criminal and very few illegal things. I wish I could understand why...but it just isn't in me.

Reporter: Jill, we only have a couple of minutes left. Any other thoughts you'd like to share?

Jill: Sure. I'm curious how President Bush can "guarantee" the capture of Osama Bin Laden. My personal belief is that he's got him already or he brokered a trade with India, who may have captured him. This nuke agreement is very puzzling. I also want to know WTF is up with Paula Abdul? Did she take a couple of shots of Nyquil before the program last night? She looked and acted loopy to me. Thank gawd Brenna is gone because her schtick with the "Hey Clive, Let's Make Some Money" was repulsive in my opinion. Too bad she didn't have the talent to match her EGO. Also, I will continue voting for Mandisa because she is supremely talented and just darling. But honey, no more bare arms and chest, OK? I'm a full figured gal too so I support you - but that just crossed the line. I'm sorry. But it did. And Carrie Underwood's singing made me cry last night. It was so beautiful. Though I was feverish and completely out of my mind. I kept apologizing to Husband for all of my failings. He just put a cold towel on my forehead and fed me popsicles. Then I yelled at him for touching a part of the popsicle that I was going to eat and he didn't budge. He just understood.

Reporter: Well, that seems like a good conclusion. You've got a loving husband to help get you through this raging fever. I'd like to thank you, Jill, for your time today and wish you the best at your doctor's appointment this afternoon. Hopefully, it's nothing too serious and he'll overload you with antibiotics to kick this thing for good.

Reporting live from, back to you.