A "$hizz"load alright. I promised myself I won't stoop down to the level, but a woman's gotta say what a woman's gotta say...

Oh, the drama surrounding my husband's family lately...estate, trust and will issues following both parents' demise...ascertaining what legally belongs to who in terms of inheritance. Oh, fralala-schmalooting inheritance. For Pete's sake, it's not even something we all worked hard for, so why have issues over it? 3/4 of the tribe seeks fairness (or whatever is legal even if some people will actually end up getting a bigger portion of the pie...as long as it's deemed legal and appropriate) while a fourth of the tribe, so most people say, are lazy arses waiting for bounty to fall off heaven (or this overused "fruit falling off the tree" cliche) like it's a birth right that entitles them to rely on that alone, instead of working their butts off like every normal people would. Oh anyway, my words are laden with emotions, so pardon moi! I don't know the truth. Sometimes, even if we think we know the truth, we will still be surprised. Benefit of the doubt...

Yes, I've got to pull myself back and not let this crazy hullabaloo drag me down. But I'm only human and getting this out is in fact finally one good favor I owe myself, after all these years of silence (and trying to be an angel of peace, boohoo, hehe), and oh, the most abominable stress I've ever encountered. Anyway, I really don't care about the money. Nor owning anything. Nor what is legal and what's not. We don't bring that to the afterlife anyway. It's not even because I actually have more assets with my own family either, although I do (LOL), and though that most likely makes me care even less about this whole tug-of-war. Especially that I am really not of the bum-kind anyway, nor aspiring to be one, and instead sweating it to earn my own keep. I don't like counting on anything, it will be a shame if I become enslaved and blinded by free money like some people I know -- yes, some people I just met in the last five years or so. I am thankful to my good old family who raised and bred me well enough to be humble and be strongly aware that there are more important things in this life than material stuff.

I would have let all these go without grudges. It's not mine, it's not even from my forefathers. I want to close my eyes on these shenanigans and continue living my own sweet life.

So what again is the problem, you ask?

We are still bombarded with shitspeak coming from the "advantaged" party and their minions, when they've already gotten one over the others. Now, that is a totally different story.

I heard it from the grapevine, so I'm still hoping that this isn't true at all. Benefit of the doubt, you know. There's nothing to lose. Maybe they won't go that low. Hopefully.

I witnessed how my husband promised over his mother's fresh grave during her funeral that he will try his darnedest to keep the family together, as we have always struggled to do even while she was still alive -- something other easy-to-judge people don't even know about (and yes, even if we were in between terribly conflicting, resisting, grinding forces that will give any superhero and villain a run for their money). Superman and the kryptonites? You're dust! Seriously, I remember those days on special occasions when he'd call one party...and the other would say "but who's going to be there?" and vice-versa. As if the decision depended on the answer. It did. It was like something you'd see only on the afternoon telly, I swear. And despite that, he was still pushed to the category of the "non-caring" crud because of misgivings he's done in the past as a young spoiled brat, by some judgmental people particularly by a cousin who shouldn't be poking her nose in this business in the first place.

"You don't know your husband. I know your husband." Uhmmmmm......do you know him now?

So despite being treated quite unfairly, and in such a moment of grief that time at the mom's wake, where you find the mat under your feet suddenly pulled away and rather quite untimely in her Godly attempt to do a group therapy-slash-bandaid of sorts(totally inappropriate, Dr. Shrink, plus, it barely scratched the surface --FYI, the wounds are old -- older than I've been in the family, and they run deep, and oh, shouldn't all "therapists" do intensive intake research first?), we had preferred to remain silent because going head to head with a one-track minded cousin who fits the perfect clinical picture of a case of the "Messiah" complex to boot (read: when one becomes so self-righteous she thinks she's so perfect, playing God oh-my-golly-gee-ain't-that-a-sacrilege... and believes she's the only smart golden child to solve all the worlds' problems by...actually DIVIDING the world, oh-you-should-hear-the-Dr. Phil-slash-Oprah speeches, it's pretty comical how one could bask in the limelight that you could bet there is a pre-written eulogy for each person tucked away in a briefcase somewhere waiting to be used when the person bites the dust)....is an insult to ourselves. My mentor once said, "You can't argue with someone like that". Oh you bet! A lesson I've learned hard in my training back in the day. What a big disappointment. I had originally perceived her as sensible, well-bred, fine and classy, and someone I could associate myself with. Someone I actually looked up to, somehow. I had good words for her. Had. I was wrong. After all these years of observing people, professionally and not, I still get foiled like that. True colors showed amidst the crisis...like Mr. Cookie Monster catching a whiff of the perfect chocolate chip cookie still warm and smelling so good from the oven and ready to be feasted upon. Oh cookie cookie cookie! *in a rough voice* Oh cookie cookie cookie! And thus (so I heard), spending personal time as well in order to dig what she could in order to tear some people in the family down. Instigating a certain "holocaust", head after head after head. Is that the concept of family that one ought to promulgate? I must have been living under a rock as I missed on that lesson while growing up. I was raised not to play God and judgment day with my own kin. But then, that's me...

So, how could one go so LOW and in such bad taste? Is it letting perfection and righteousness get into the head perhaps? They are double-edged swords that can work against you if you don't catch yourself. What a disappointment, nonetheless.

I found my name dragged into the circus as well (which was clearly feasted on by The Messiah herself, oh yippy I do count! harharhar) by being accused of saying bad things about the Messiah's father, the Don Vito Corleone of the mob, and I believe it had to be the doing of another person (another two-faced faux-jeton whose loyalty I discovered is worse than the most-sided polygon in the universe, and who has pretty recently washed her hands, yes, with anti-bacterial soap, Lysol, Clorox and all, right in time to be part of the climax...but I'm not going to waste my already-wasted time further by delving into that). See how convoluted this saga is? One thing I must say though, hey people...I observe and analyze, so I am not entirely clueless about certain matters LOL...oh beyond this silent grin, I am most tickled silly!

I digress.

The point is, people grow up too, you know. Not everyone sees how big my husband's heart actually is. Not everyone, especially those who refuse to see it (sadly, they should have been the ones to see it first). And I'm not saying this because he's my husband. I can see it. I am even ashamed of myself sometimes at how bigger his heart is than mine! It's something I still struggle to emulate at times. Such a big heart, sometimes to a fault, I tell you. To be specific about it -- being nice and kind to the other party (who had the bigger share of the bounty), because first and foremost, their children were endeared to us and we had hoped to promote nothing else but the peace he promised over his dead mother's body. Period. But what happened? We heard from the grapevine that they were misinterpreting it as buttering up aka "kissing a$$" to a point of concluding that we have a hidden motive of trying to get a bigger piece of the pie. A piece of the family house perhaps? Oh hell no. We didn't even think about that. It never even crossed my mind each time we would zealously call and invite their kids over, pick them up or drop them off. Until recently when this news was brought up. We've always done it way before things went to the dogs anyway. (Looking back, you wonder, who instigated all the ugliness? There must be a catalyst somehow, surely not me nor my husband, I'm at peace with that.)

What losers! I wonder who planted that in their minds. The Messiah cousin perhaps? Or a product of their own thinking? Or a collaboration of both?

I understand now.

You see, we all define other people's actions first and foremost by how our own minds work.... it's scientifically called our own "psychological constructs". Unless you're a professional in the mind field who might be knowledgeable of different possible explanations, you'd call to mind the first thing and the first information available to you, and jump into conclusion based on that immediate information from your very own resources. That, my sweet, consists of your very own motives, desires and the very own system your psyche works. By accusing someone that he is a thief, it first reveals that you may be a thief too unless proven otherwise. By accusing someone that he is motivated to get something out by being extra-nice, a.k.a. "kissing a$$ (oh dear, of all things!)....maybe indeed that it is your own modus operandi to begin with. When you think maliciously of somebody, look into yourself, maybe you know because that's how you operate. It takes one to know one. But sorry to disappoint you, not all people share the same motives.



If you can't live with that, it tells me greatly of how many malevolent plans you have up your sleeve.

True kindness exists. And to me, we've given that with sincerity in our hearts. So looking back, it's not our loss. In fact, it is our gain. Because once again, I'm having my last laugh. Because by judging us wrongly, you betray yourself and reveal the big truth about how your dirty minds actually work. And oh I can see the avenues where you might possibly apply it! I smell the stench!

I still hope I'm wrong though. But I still can't help but let out a hearty guffaw. Boohoohahahhaaahhaha.

Because despite all the pain this has caused us, I am truly having my last laugh, once again.

Seriously, how can you not laugh at a petite satirical and comical mental image of The Messiah cousin in Hitler garb (Nazi uniform, Swastika, arm band, short square center mustache and all), appealing to greed and sloth to increase German prosperity without requiring Germans to work for it, and thus leading into the Holocaust because confiscating Jewish property seemed to make sense to the greedy -- those are Suzanne Fields' words, by the way).

Or images of all of the concerned in white straitjackets doing the cabbage patch dance.

Or some synchronized dancing to the tune of Michael Jackson's Thriller (RIP, MJ!). Everyone in orange garb, with the letter P on the back, jerking in unison with arms and feet suspended on strings that are tied to a puppeteer's wooden cross. Whose hands are moving them? I leave it to your imagination.

I feel like doing the moonwalk right now!

Hilarious.

Ooops, I'm supposed to be kind.

I still truly respect the parents(+). And The Messiah's parents. They did me no wrong. At least I hope so. So pardon me...

But then again, the comedy never stops.