Student by Day, Streetwalker by Night

I'm well into my 20s, actually closer to my 30s, but I have what you might consider a "curfew on steroids." Even in high school, I didn't have the traditional curfew my friends had. It wasn't ok to go see a movie as long as I was home by 10. It wasn't ok to go to a dance as long as I was home by midnight. I never went out. This might account for why I had but 2 friends in high school, really. We would hang out at someone's house until about 4, when I rushed home to get there before the Czar or Queen were home from work. This worked for the most part. My social life was ablaze from 3 to 4pm. Hoppin.

When I came home during breaks in college, I made sure to find a seasonal job and pick up as many hours as I could. Take your shift? Sure! Take an extra shift? Sure! Someone called in sick? I'll stay late, sure! I schemed to make sure I was closing so that I could wake up late, enjoy a silent house, and then leave before they came home. There were a few times where I would say I was working and instead hang out with friends, and those were glorious days of freedom.

After college, I moved back home and a dilemma presented itself. I had lived by my own schedule, coming and going as I please, for 4 years. What now? It became very clear that my non-curfew from high school was still in place after I babysat for my pastor. Yep. Pastor.

At the time, my pastor was probably in late 30s or early 40s, and a friend of his was finally getting married. He was to be a groomsman, so he and his wife were looking for a babysitter for their 3 children while they celebrated this very special occasion. I was a graduate student at the time, so I gladly offered my help. Besides, they lived just 7 or so minutes away from my house.

That night, I played some Scrabble with the eldest, shared some girl talk with the middle, and put the stubborn youngest to sleep successfully. I was enjoying the silence of the house when my pastor called to say he'd be a little late. Maybe 30 minutes. This would put me home past midnight, so I called the Czar. The response I got beyond baffled me.

What kind of church is this? What kind of pastor stays out and leaves his kids at home past midnight? You... are a street walker. What are you doing!? You're so stupid. This is ridiculous!

Yep. He called me a prostitute. Babysitting for my pastor who lives 7 minutes away until 12:30 on a Saturday night as a 23-year-old clearly means I'm selling my body for money. Is it any wonder that I've learned to lie so easily to them? It's very sad, but it's the only way I can get any sense of freedom. So if anyone asks, I'm working late tonight...

Moving?

I've always thought (sometimes quite dramatically) that something hugely tragic would need to happen in order for the Czar to see that he's not every in control of anything outside of himself. Whether that meant I fell ill or he fell ill, I was open to anything. The boy says I should wait before I "wish harm upon them," but the logic behind it stands, I think. When do drug addicts finally admit when they have a problem? When they've hit "rock bottom." The Czar is addicted to control. He must hit rock bottom.

I recently learned that the Czar's work may be changing. Circumstances have left him to seek out other employment, including options that may require a move. Is it utterly evil of me to hope for that? I honestly believe that, in this case, the sayings "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and "what you don't know can't hurt you" will go neatly hand in hand and ride off into the sunset. Bemoan my cliches all you want, but here's to good interviews and a little bit of luck.

I Am The Exception...Every Time

It's funny how the Queen and Czar are demanding. They are demanding of absolute and unquestioned forgiveness, grace, and apology from everyone else, yet they never see the need to grant those to anyone else. After the debacle involving the boy, my mom reminded me that it's just an apology now that would suffice... for something he never intended, for something that was completely misunderstood, for something he did.not.do.

You've got to be joking me. I wonder in what world it was where they were served endlessly and to no limit that they expect this now. Bite me. No apologies are coming your way for the thing that you misunderstood that should never have offended you that you are demanding so that I can plan my wedding to make you happy so that you will get the wedding you've always dreamed of. No. Bite me.

Since when did everyone else become so entitled to OUR wedding? Where's my gin & tonic?

Under Czar Rule

The thing about being under the rule of the Czar is that the rules don't have to make any logical sense. Laws are not "passed" by any majority rule, and they do not need to be for the sake of the people. If the Czar wants it, the Czar shall have it.

To be married to the Czar means that you have to buy into the crazy, at least a little bit. If you didn't, you wouldn't be married. If you could get out of the marriage, maybe you would indulge the little logic you have left, but alas... what would you do? Where would you go? The Queen is as much a prisoner as the people, but she has just a little more power. Her tantrums hold consequences for them.

In our house, the Czar is prone to fits of anger and verbal tirades, particularly when the life he imagined for himself and his family do not appear. Growing up, the Czar had dreamed he would have doting children who worshipped the ground he walked on, hung on every word he spoke, and jumped at the opportunity to please him. When he found his Queen, he made promises to her of the lavish life they would live together, far beyond the lifestyles of anyone they knew. He showed her his dream of the doting children. How perfect their life would be! But it would not be easy. To establish your kingdom in a new land is not a small feat, and it would take years of hard work, blood, sweat, tears... sacrifice. But they would do it together. For their dream.