Betty’s Birthday; Blabbering Baby

Betty’s Birthday; Blabbering Baby
To most of the music aficionado and pop culture world, today is the day John Lennon died. For the record, I studied the Beatles in college for my non-major related music course and earned an A in that class very easily and very happily. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, from 10:40 – 11:30, for an entire semester, I listened to my Beatles-geek/freak professor wax poetic about his favorite band; I am certain he subscribed to John Lennon’s statement about being bigger than Jesus or Christianity. I loved every second of not only his lectures, but especially of listening to unreleased recordings that he scavenged from around the world and out of trunks of cars in “black market” dealings. 
But, this day is more important to me. It’s my mum’s birthday. 
Instead of sending her a “card” card, I decided to have fun in a photobooth with images ranging from a dorky-daughter to if-I-were-trying-to-make-big-trouble to if-I-were-an-out-of-control-starlet-mugshot series.
My package arrived by Fed Ex on time and she wasted no time digging in to the luscious coconut macaroons from AJ’s that she loves so much that I carefully packed for her. We spoke this morning when I called to wish her a happy birthday, and she let me know later in the day when she opened her gift (the pink cashmere sweater I landed scored big points on the Mom-o-meter).
Which is so awesome, and made me happy. And that is about all that made me happy today. I was careless in an action I did today, and the consequences are so shitty. I erroneously attempted to delete a chain of emails to hurriedly send a message to my academic counselor in one of my steps of filing a complaint against my recent law class instructor. The error was in the fact I failed to delete the emails as I forwarded what I intended to only be a single email I previously drafted (I don’t know why I just didn’t do a frigging copy/paste). Duuuuuude, you guys…. I am really (no, I mean really) smart. And yet, I do some of the stupidist just damn studipist crap. This is not a silly misdirected text message to an unintended recipient or a drunken and lonely/bored text message to an unwisely intended recipient. No, this is pretty bad. No one is amused about my technological snafu today. 
Because… well, the email I sent was attached to emails that I never intended anyone other than the other person in that conversation to ever see…. And the emails that were never supposed to see any light of day and were exchanged in confidence, were presented to Academic Affairs. Out of context, I look like I’m trying to abuse my position and my association to manipulate a situation in my favor; out of context, the other party (who is in a leadership role at the college) looks like is encouraging me. Neither are true, but the damage is done all the same… and what I have managed to do is to create noise and distraction detracting from the real issue, which is the instructor who wasn’t doing her job… SHIT!!!! It’s bad enough that I may be swimming in getting-warmer waters, but the fact that my confidant has been totally thrown under the bus by my haste, shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. Shit. Shit. 
Stupid F’ing Mercury in Retrograde, as Whitney Houston so eloquently stated, Mercury in Retrograde can kiss my ass.
My own birthday is in exactly three weeks’ time, and I have another number to ticker in the Thirty-Plus range (anyway, at what point do we leave early thirties and enter mid-thirties). 
So, my question is: do we ever get to old to cry and wail, “I want my mommy!!!!!,” do we? Please say no. Because, after this day, what I really, really need is a hug, someone to rub my back, and to tell me this mess I made today will be okay. 
And no one gives me better hugs than my mom.

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