'lie

So get this...

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 20:09:06 GMT

I always wanted to star in a soap opera. I think this might just qualify as one:

so okay, the hubby's ex is suing us for $17,000 in back child support which I believe I've already complained about here before. So we're preparing our defense and as part of that Michael went out to the courthouse to fetch a copy of his divorce papers. he never got a copy way back in 2000 when they divorced and now we know why. first of all, his ex filled out the paperwork herself and they shared a lawyer who she paid herself. she really wanted that divorce. so the first thing he noticed is that she had crossed off the address he gave for himself which was tammy's address where he was living at the time. she put her own address and listed that they were still living together. okay, wierd but no big crisis. lots of reasons that might have happened, including she didn't want him to get a copy of the papers until it was too late...which brings me to the next point. she forged his signature. seriously. the papers he remembers signing said she lived in the house with the kids but if she ever sold it they would split the profits from the sale. in the ones she actually filed she got the house and everything in it, her retirement, savings and checking accounts etc. Michael got the ancient van, the clothes on his back and a sports car he'd just bought that he owed $3500 on.

she freaking forged his signature...what the hell? and it's obvious too, he has a very distinctive signature...it's almost impossible to forge and just for such a reason. I'm not sure how she expected to get away with it but she has gotten away with it up until now so go figure. He was so messed up when they split up he just wanted it to be over with and wasn't thinking about the details. and like a moron he trusted her to do the right thing. I mean who forges someones signature on divorce papers?

and what does this mean really? is the divorce invalid now? does that mean he's still married to her? and if so does that mean he's no longer married to me? and what about the money for the house that she kept? does she owe him that money if she gained it fraudulently?

this is crazy...i'll keep you posted...

my mind grapes hurt

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 17:14:05 GMT

I have such a headache this morning. It's in my neck and sinuses and acting as a steel band around my forehead. Ouch...misery....

what's new? notta lotta, to be honest. just plugging along. work is super busy and nuts...corporate has dug their claws into us at last and that is never good...might mean more $$$ for me at some point though so I'm keeping my mouth shut and going along for the ride...

on the homefront, not much to report there either. we're in that "summer funk" period of the year. Michael is miserable but getting by. we're being sued by his ex for more than $17,000 which is fun. I'm getting quite an education in family law. and sitting on hold...and bueracratic (sic) bs...oh well...she thinks he owes her back child support. she has conveniently forgotten about the fact that she sold their house for more than $40,000 profit and since he wasn't working and had yet to be declared disabled he told her to keep his half and take care of his kids. not to mention the $9500 she got from disability when he was finally approved, the year that shawn actually lived with us and the nearly $5000 he paid her the first two years after the divorce when he was working at IKON and making killer money. he was a dumbass and never got reciepts from her but I still think we have a case. we'll see. either way she only gets an extra $30 a month out of him since obviously he's ill and we're broke. oh and we just found out that he should have gone back to court years ago when he became disabled and had his payment amount reduced...it's not retroactive of course but from now on she'll get a whopping $55 from him instead of the $150 she's been getting for the last year (plus $173 a month that comes directly from disability to her). We'll just give the other $100 directly to Shawn and she can go fly a kite....so that's fun...

we went to see The Happening...ook...poor M Night...that movie sucked with a capitol STINK...sorry if that's a spoiler for anyone but I feel obligated to save my friends from seeing this movie...oh it was so bad...the performances...the feel...the dialogue was a joke...marky mark was just plain awful!!!! I don't have the words...we would have walked out if Meg hadn't been with us...I'm so sad...that's two losers in a row...

other than that, life is going on pretty much as usual...it's nice to see jules and johnny on here again...i've missed you guys...

Hello girl it's been awhile...

Sun, 18 May 2008 15:48:04 GMT

So what's new?

My car has air conditioning. I'm very excited about this, especially as the weather has taken a decided turn for the hellish. I've never owned a car with working a/c before. Not all those years in Vegas. Not once. So I'm enjoying that.

Working on a story. It's pretty good. I know it from start to finish. Now I just have to wrestle it onto the paper. So to speak.

My hunny bunny has been in ridiculous amounts of pain lately. He has an appointment coming up in CDA in July with a rheumatologist. We'll see. He has gone to the pool a few times to swim and soak and it seems to help him a bit. He's very excited about the coming football season. We are going to attempt to build him a cool Raiders website where he can blog and predict and bicker to his hearts content and maybe even eventually get paid for it. He's really good at it and has caused quite a stir on several of the major Raider networks already online. Yay baby! He continues to be the love of my life even though we've been going through a rather rough patch. We've finally had a bit of a breakthrough and I'm feeling pretty damn good about us, thanks. Of course life turns on a dime so you'll have to stay tuned to find out what happens with the hausens next. We're not your normal aging rockers.

The babies, doing well, knock wood. Meg is in her own apartment at the four horses and for the last two weeks she's been entertaining her best friends boyfriend there. Eek. Okay so I'm going to guess that it's largely based on my own live experience, but I'm a little bit concerned about this relationship. To begin with, Meg's best friend Ashley and her husband Jarod set Beth up with Rob in the first place. Rob and Jarod were in the same company in boot camp and are now proud soldiers in Iraq. Screaming Eagles no less. Bad guys. So when Jarod came home to marry Ashley before he was deployed, he brought Rob along for the ride and he and Beth, by all accounts, fell madly in love. Ahh...sweet. Except that I have a feeling that Meg is really bummed that they set him up with Beth instead of her. She adores Beth but I think she was hurt by that, especially when she got to know him. I think there is a bit of a mad crush going on there. She's im'd him and myspaced whatever while he's been away and has gotten to know him and now he's sleeping on an air mattress in her apartment. I'm not naieve enough that I don't know there is occasionally alcohol involved, they are teenagers and one of them faces death on a regular basis and besides, the array of empty rum and whiskey bottles and the shot glass chess board on top of her fridge kind of tipped me off. And we all know how things can get a little fuzzy when alcohol is involved. Beth is a good Catholic girl (teehee) and still lives at home where her parents keep a pretty tight rein on her. I'm pretty sure she and Rob have done more than they should have when the girls went to Tennessee and I'm sure they are doing more than they should be now but that doesn't mean...oh Lord. Well all I can do is be there if it should go bad.

Is this kind of thing hereditary? I'm afraid.

As for the boy, well he's just an amazing boy. He finally passed his written test and on Tuesday he will take his drive test and if that goes well he will become a licensed driver. I am still firmly in denial. He can't wait to take me for a ride. I think that will be the most heartbreaking moment of my life. This horrible slow pulling away. I never felt this bad with Meg but then she was always more her daddy's girl than mine. She's become more of a friend and we are a lot closer now that she is a big girl so it's been pretty easy. But this boy is suddenly leaving me at breakneck speed and I'm having a little trouble with it. He will be driving around in his fancy Chevy truck with the big Raider's shield in the back window and a giant silver crucifix dangling from the rear view mirror. He has a girlfriend. Her name is Jessica and I've known her since she was a scabby knee'd tomboy who lived across the street from us. She was in on some of Max's wildest escapades, riding his big plastic Tonka dumptruck down a very steep hill, watering the snow in the sideyard until it formed ice so that when the sledded down they reached warp speed. Sneaking onto the Jean paddlewheel boat and into the abandoned mercantile, hanging out in a Pioneer era log cabin that is supposedly haunted. I knew about none of these things when they were happening mind you. I was blissfully ignorant at work apparently. Anyway, she has grown up into a very pretty and by all accounts sweet girl. Their relationship developed slowly over the years and is based on friendship so I can't argue with that. She is kind to him, doesn't seem to manipulate him or dominate. They talk online, I don't think they even call each other on the phone which is odd but they have hours long conversations on myspace, writing back and forth in one or two line emails. I'm happy for him but feel another piece of my heart being torn away. I always knew someday he'd love another woman more than he loved me but the thought that this might be the one I'm just not ready for. He has such a tender heart, I tell myself. He's not ready for love. But they way he treats her tells me that he is. Dammit.

He's going to football camp this summer. Castle and I will split the bill. He has been quite reasonable lately and yesterday when I dropped Max off at home he even waved to me from the garage. Progress. When we speak on the phone now he doesn't sound weary and wary like he used to, as if I was going to try to tell him something he didn't want to hear. Now we just sound like two people who share a child. It's nice. Oh and a week from Thursday my son will be awarded his first varsity letter for Track and Field. yay boy! he will finally have something to put on his letterman's jacket! He may have a job lined up for the summer too, a friend of Castle's who is a landscaper. He has experience from working with Garths dad so it looks good. He'll like having a little money in his pocket but we already talked to him about how if he wants to go to UNLV he's going to have to work for it, so half his checks are going to go to his college fund. I can't imagine my son attending college but it's getting so close now. I can't imagine him living in Vegas, my worst nightmare, with me more than a thousand miles away, unable to protect him. How will I survive this child's growing up? I better get a shitload of grandbabies for all this! But not now... no time soon really.

What else? Work is good, we are making decent money, our boarding bonus was just raised from $5 per ap to $7.50 and there is rumor it will go up to $10 before the summer is over. That means for every account we install within a certain period of time we get $7.50. It translates nicely when your installing 50+ accounts a week and if all goes well we will double or triple that in the coming months. I got a tiny raise as well which was nice and helpful especially with the staggering cost of our health insurance. But at least we are all covered, even the babies. Which is nice. Lately it's occurred to me that instead of feeling the awesome burden of responsibility, it actually feels good to be providing for my family. And doing it well. Most of the time. Michael is being the tough guy and has managed to save more than a $1000 over the last three months, giving it to his mother to hold for us since we can't be trusted. It's caused a bit of friction but that's mostly because we both have very deepseated issues with money. We're working it out and I'm very very proud of him for not giving in to my whining or to his own desperate desire for Fazzarri's pizza or a night on the town. We can be grownups if we want to.

So reading back over this I realize it sounds a lot like an epilogue. A nice little wrap up at the end of my story. But then I'm sure most of my posts here sound like that. Annoying writer trait. Michael and I were laughing about that sort of thing the other day. We had been bickering, about money as usual and who's fault it was the car ran out of gas. We were right in the middle of it all when I had to get out of the car to go back to work. I said something smart ass-some ridiculous parting shot and just as he screamed away I heard him yell "Always a pleasure." At first that hurt. It sounds so overwhelming like I'm always such a bitch that he barely can tolerate me or something. But then I laughed because I saw it for what it was-a parting shot, just like my own. Always writing dialogue in our heads, always having to have the last word. Freaking writers.

Okay well I've taken up enough of your time and my own. Time for "and they lived happily ever after" but this is not the end...just the beginning of a new chapter...

Fine'

hello darkness my old friend...

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 09:20:41 GMT

blah
I am so blah
Times they are a'changin' and I've just never been all the comfortable with change.

And it's finally turning spring out there. Which I hate. A lot.

On the lighter side, my new clownfish is making my old clownfish very happy. they frolic and play in the current made by the filter pump. They sleep curled up together in the cave behind the rock. It's good to see her coming out of her own darkness...she was one sad clownfish. No one likes a sad clown...

Tam and I went to check out the park where her wedding ceremony is going to be held. Hereth Park. Has a wonderful sheltered area that will keep us from sweltering in the August heat. We tried to check out the VFW Hall where the reception is going to be held but alas, no one was in residence today. So then we went to URM and priced foodstuffs and paper goods. It's all coming together nicely. As soon as prom season ends and all the pretty frocks go on sale, Kelly and I are going shopping for our dresses. I'm starting to get excited but it's still a ways off...summer always seems so endless and brutal to me...

I've got nothing else. I thought I was in the mood to write but as is becoming the norm lately, I'm completely blocked...damn...I hate spring...

oh here's my good news, Meg got an apartment!!! At the Four Horses. I always wanted to live there, well at least I did way back in the 80's when they were new and fanci-fied with their pool and such. I guess they got pretty scary messy icky for awhile but theres a new owner and he's cleaned the place up and done a lot of improvements...or so we're told. It will be a good first pad for her though. It's a studio so she won't have too much to clean. And like she says, she's never going to be there anyway. It's mostly a place to store her stuff and bathe. Ah to be 18 again...

To everyone on the plane:

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 13:52:07 GMT

I'm appalled and ashamed that not a single one of you was willing to inconvenience yourselves in order to give up your seat to a young soldier on a 14 day leave from the war in Iraq who was trying to get home to see his wife and baby. That three hours you would have spent waiting for the next flight would have meant you missed your favorite TV program or were late for a meeting or started your vacation a few hours later than planned. But for Jarod it meant three less hours he gets to spend with the baby he hasn't seen in eight months and the wife he only had a couple precious months to be with before he went off to fight. He gets fourteen lousy days before he has to go back to the desert to risk his life. And no matter what you think of this war or the reasons it's being fought, there is no excuse for not feeling compassion and appreciation for the men and women who are fighting it. Remember on 9/11 how pissed we were and how we vowed revenge on the perpatrators of such horror? Well guys like Jarod answered that call and while we have all gotten on with our own lives they are still out there, sleeping in ditches, hungry and thirsty and dirty and a long long way from home, doing their jobs, risking their lives, missing their families.

I hope you are all ashamed of yourselves as I'm ashamed of you for taking those three precious hours away from this family. I hope whatever it was you were rushing off to was as important as Jarod spending a few extra hours watching his son sleep, holding his wife, being spoiled by his mother.

Personally, I can't think of anything more important than that.

break the big boys....

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 23:18:54 GMT

Type your cut contents here.THIS IS NOT THE 'DON'T BUY' GAS FOR ONE DAY, BUT IT     WILL SHOW YOU HOW WE CAN GET GAS BACK DOWN TO     $1.30 PER GALLON.

This was sent by a retired Coca Cola executive. It came from one of his engineer buddies who retired from Halliburton. If you are tired of the gas prices going up AND they will continue to rise this summer, take time to read this please.

Phillip Hollsworth offered this good idea.
This makes MUCH MORE SENSE than the "don't buy gas on a certain day" campaign that was going around last April or May!
It's worth your consideration. Join the resistance!!!!

I hear we are going to hit close to $ 4.00 a gallon by next summer and it might go higher!! Want gasoline prices to come down?

We need to take some intelligent, united action. The oil companies just laughed at that because they knew we wouldn't continue to "hurt" ourselves by refusing to buy gas.

It was more of an inconvenience to us than it was a problem for them.
BUT, whoever thought of this idea, has come up with a plan that can Really work.&nbs p; Please read on and join with us!

By now you're probably thinking gasoline priced at about $2.00 is super cheap. Me too! It is currently $2.98 for regular unleaded in my town.

Now th at the oil companies and the OPEC nations have conditioned us to think that the cost of a gallon of gas is CHEAP at $1.50 - $1.75, we need to take aggressive action to teach them that BUYERS control the marketplace...not sellers.

With the price of gasoline going up more each day, we consumers need to take action.

The only way we are going to see the price of gas come down is if we hit someone in the pocketbook by not purchasing their gas! And, we can do that WITHOUT hurting ourselves.

How? Since we all rely on our cars, we can't just stop buying gas.

But we CAN have an impact on gas prices if we all act together to force a price war.

Here's the idea: For the rest of this year, DON'T purchase ANY gasoline from the two biggest companies (which now are one), EXXON and MOBIL.

If they are not selling any gas, they will be inclined to reduce their prices.   If they reduce their prices, the other companies will have to follow suit.

But to have an impact, we need to reach literally millions of Exxon and Mobil gas buyers. It's really simple to do! Now, don't wimp out on me at this point...keep reading and I'll explain how simple it is to reach millions of people!!

I am sending this note to 30 people. If each of us send it to at least ten more (30 x 10 = 300) .. and those 300 send it to at least ten more (300 x 10 = 3,000)...and so on, by the time the message reaches the sixth group of people, we will have reached over THREE MILLION consumers.
If those three million get excited and pass this on to ten friends each, then 30 million people will have been contacted!

If it goes one level further, you guessed it..... THREE HUNDRED MILLION PEOPLE!!!

Again, all you have to do is send this to 10 people. That's all!

(If you don't understand how we can reach 300 million and all you have to do is send this to 10 people.... Well, let's face it, you just aren't a mathematician. But I am . so trust me on this one.

How long would all that take? If each of us sends this e-mail out to ten more people within one day of receipt, all 300 MILLION people could conceivably be contacted within the next 8 days!!!

I'll bet you didn't think you and I had that much potential, did you!
Acting together we can make a difference.
If this makes sense to you, please pass this message on. I suggest that we not buy from EXXON/MOBIL UNTIL THEY LOWER THEIR PRICES TO THE $2.00 RANGE AND KEEP THEM DOWN. THIS CAN REALLY WORK.

                                  Keep it going

Pass it on folks...tell your friends...

Slainte'

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 21:53:29 GMT

As always happens to me in the spring, I am feeling a powerful longing for something I've never known. For as long as I have memory, I've felt an undeniable connection to Ireland. I don't know for sure if this is because being Irish is the only thing I really know about myself or if it's really the strength of generations coursing through my veins. It doesn't really matter. Either way, when the skies are grey, the clouds thick and heavy, pewter and periwinkle, when the hills turn emerald green and I wake up to the sound of wind and rain, something inside me awakens.

Of course the approach of St Patty's day accelerates this longing to manic purportions.

At lunch today I watched Anthony Bourdain in Ireland, Belfast and Dublin. County Cork. I learned the amusing tidbit that Irish people, surrounded on all sides by the Atlantic Ocean, don't like seafood. Neither do I. But you'd think they would. Oh no, not my people. They'd rather starve to death. And did. I love Anthony because he always gives you a touch of history and culture and he didn't gloss over the eternal struggle that has been Ireland's history. I wonder if I'd been born there if I'd have been Catholic or Protestant. I can't see me as a Catholic but you never know. I can see me as a revolutionary. I've always been a rebel without a cause...

Anyway, there is my rumination on my heritage. I want to go there, home. I want to take my children and introduce them to their Motherland. Instill in them the deep sense of history and belonging and struggle that is part of who they are. I have every intention of making that happen, next year. Tax money. I'm going to Ireland...just wait and see if I don't

Should I be freaking?

Mon, 03 Mar 2008 20:42:53 GMT

Everyone keeps acting like at any second it's going to occur to me that I'm about to turn 40 and I'll suddenly lose my mind and freak out and have a meltdown.

Sorry to disapoint folks, but ain't gonna happen. I could care less. I feel the same as I did last year and each of the years before other than the fact that my life is actually in much better shape than it was when I was turning 20 or 30. I am in love with the love of my life. He seems to find me pretty acceptable in return so that's a plus. In June we will celebrate our 3rd anniversary as married folks, and since most of our friends gave us about six months, I'd say we're doing pretty good. My babies are happy, healthy and reasonably well adjusted considering. knock wood. I have a job that I enjoy and coworkers I adore. We have a decent roof over our heads, the bills, for the most part, are paid up to date. We have health insurance at long last and no longer have to give blood BEFORE going to the doctor. We even have a nice car (again, knock wood). I am now eight chapters into my book and if I do say so myself, it's some of the best work I"ve done. I'm finding my own voice at last. It's hard, I still slip into Nora Roberts or [shudder] Danielle Steel now and then and then I'm forced to nuke entire chapters and start over. But it's progressing and nicely.

I've been lucky so far in the physical dept. and I'm going on the theory that all this chub is plumping me up so much I've yet to really wrinkle. I have a tiny touch of crows feet (those are laugh lines folks) and despite liberal applications of all kinds of skin toner and firmer and lotions, I'm starting to get that old lady crinkling in my cleavage but only when I lay on my side so as long as I'm upright I'm cool. Dear God I'm not ready for the day I'll have to put my cleavage away forever...eek. I have yet to find a gray hair and considering I just colored my hair I think I'll make it all the way to 40 without finding one. I did get a wierd spot on the back of my wrist that might be an age spot. Might be melanoma. Or a freckle. Who knows. The point is I'm not gonna freak about it.

So having taken stock of my life, my bod, my emotional/mental state, I'd have to say I'm in pretty darn good shape for an old lady. And as long as the cute boys in sales keep acting shocked when I say I'm turning 40 and guessing my age closer to 30, I think I'm gonna live...a little longer anyway....

Springtime Carny dreams....

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 17:55:59 GMT

Spring, oddly, makes me nostalgic for Vegas...go figure.

It was spring when I moved down there. Spring when we bought our first house and planted our first garden. Spring when we sat on the couch, during an amazing desert thunderstorm, talking about forever, planning the future of the baby I carried under my heart. Spring when he broke my heart for the first time...and the second and the third. Spring when I went back to work after my second child was born, working my first Grateful Dead show, coming back to life for the first time in years...Spring when I realized I was still a woman with a heart and a soul and dreams of my own...

Type your cut contents here.And it was spring when I fell in love with a wild, sexy, heartbreakingly damaged carny boy named Doug. He looked exactly like a young Bruce Willis except for the four inch scar right at his hairline. Car wreck in which he was pronounced dead twice, resulting in a metal plate holding his skull together. He could actually stick a refrigerator magnet to his head. I made him do it a dozen times.   The first time I laid eyes on him, he quite literally stopped my heart. His eyes were so blue, his smile so winsome. He wore skintight levi's and knee high moccasin boots and moved with the natural confidence of a jungle cat. I'm not making this shit up. He was and I assume still is amazing. All the girls on the concourse were all a'twitter when word came around that he was coming home, coming back to the Mac, after a stint on the road with the carnival.

When I met him I was in rough shape. Just had my second kid, gained a lot of weight. I wore big ugly glasses and hadn't been able to afford a professional haircut in three years. Or a perm. Or a color. Or makeup. My self-esteem was in the toilet thanks to my hubby who'd recently put me through a year of torture over a skanky band-ho named Monni. But that's a whole other story...

One day I was up on the concourse at the Mac, putting together the new sandwich boards and cleaning out the stands in preparation for an upcoming event. I'd seen Doug a time or two, from a distance and of course I'd heard the legends and the warnings...he was bad news. Heartbreaker. Worked his way through all the girls every season. I had no reason to believe he would even give me a second glance so I wasn't worried. Then he walked right up to me that day and looked at me with those incredible ice blue eyes, all crinkly at the corners when he smiled. He asked my name and told me his and then smiled and squeezed my hand. "are you married?" He said, running his thumb across my wedding band. I nodded my head, miserably, wishing with all my heart that I was not. LIfting one eyebrow in surprise he asked, "Happily?" and I was lost.

For the next three years Doug alternately made me deliriously happy and deliriously miserable. He made me care about myself again, brought me back to life. I got contacts when he said my eyes were too pretty to hide behind glasses. I saved up enough money to have my hair cut when he said he was tired of seeing it up in a ponytail all the time. When he said "no offense to God but you were meant to be a redhead" I ran to the store and bought my first red haircolor. He was the one who stood behind me in the mirror in his bathroom one day and made me look at myself, really look at myself. "That is a beautiful woman." he said to my reflection and to my surprise I realized he was telling the truth. I was beautiful.

Because of Doug, his friendship, his passion, his lust for life and his lust for me, I became a better person, a better mother, a better friend. I had been so sick and so miserable, my post-partum depression left virtually untreated. Because I'd allowed my husband to define me and knew that I would always come up lacking in his eyes, I had lost all confidence in myself. I saw nothing for myself in the future as long as I stood in his shadow. Suddenly I was dreaming again, writing again, feeling things instead of being numb.

Not that my relationship with him was perfect. Far from it. He had led an interesting life in his 23 years, seen and done things I could not imagine. Things that he eluded to that at first I thought were bullshit. He said he'd been busted for traficking pot and instead of doing time he'd made a deal with the cops. Now whenever they needed help getting info on someone they called on him. Sure, I thought. sure they do. And then one night two guys showed up at the Mac after an event and pulled him aside. Without a word to anyone, he left with them, disappearing for three days and when he came back he had a black eye and a split lip. After that every few months the same two guys would pop up unannounced and off he'd go...he told me stories of life on the road, traveling with the carnival. He told me he was smarter than the other guys who traveled and lived in the cramped, smelly trailers. When he came into a town the first thing he did was look for a likely candidate, usually an older woman, not particularly attractive. "They have to be hungry." He said, not meaning they wanted dinner. Invariably these women, grateful for the attentions of a handsome younger man, would take him home, do his laundry, feed him well, let him shower and sleep in their beds. In exchange he used his considerable bedroom skills and his gift for blarney to make them feel like the most incredible, most desirable sexiest woman on the planet. How many times did I wonder how much of that skill he employed on me but since I had benefitted greatly from it I tried not to dwell on it.

Besides, I knew that I had seen a side of Doug that none of those other women had seen. I'd seen the scared, broken, sad little boy inside. I'd been the one that made him go to the emergency room after he'd had the hiccups for six days straight. The one who made sure he took the valium and xanax cocktail they prescribed him, saying he was overstressed and if he was going to seriously hurt himself. I was the one who woke up with his hands around my throat, when he dreamed he was being attacked. And I was the one who held him when he cried afterward, begging me to forgive him. I rubbed his head when the headaches were so bad he begged for death, praying in the dark for God to give him some relief. I knew how empty and hollow he felt because of the life he'd lived and I knew how badly he wanted to be a different kind of man. And how scared he was that he never would.

And then I won the money and my husband said it was time to move home at last. The thing I'd dreamed of for years was finally going to happen. And I had to make a choice between the life I'd chosen and the one I wanted so bad. And I had two young children to consider. I wanted to go home. And I wanted Doug to ask me to stay. And since he didn't I began to make my plans. We didnt' talk about it until two weeks before it was set to happen. My husband left me in Vegas, heading up to find us a place to live and get himself a job. I stayed behind with the kids, working one last week at 7-11 and spending every minute I could with Doug. Every minute was bittersweet, the last time we would go to the MGM Grand theme park where he worked. The last time we walked down the strip at night or went bowling at the Showboat or drove his mom's cadillac out to the lake or played poker in the smoky back rooms at the China Trader. And then it came down to the last night we'd spend together. My friend kept the kids so I could stay the whole night and we hit the town. All our old haunts, bars where everyone knew him, where girls looked jealously at me. We drank a lot, shot pool, played songs on the jukebox that made us choke up a little. Goodbye songs. I cannot hear the song Desperado without seeing his face in the dimly lit club, his eyes glittery with sadness. And later we drove to the airport, parking in the lot near the fences, watching the planes take off and land like we'd done so many times before. Making love in the backseat of a borrowed car, clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow. Because there was no tomorrow. We went back to his house, sneaking in so we wouldn't wake him mom, making love again, one last time, in his big old bed. And as I drifted off to sleep in his arms I heard him whisper, "stay, please stay with me. don't go"

And then in the dim light of early morning as I got dressed, fighting tears, he said it again, "Stay. Stay with me." but we both knew it was too late. In some ways I was already gone. I had kids and I didn't fully trust him, his dark moods, his lapses in judgement, his tendency to view sex as currency. I was too scared to risk being left on my own if it all became more than he could handle. I was too scared of a lot of things and so I kissed him goodbye one last time, leaving a little piece of my heart behind in his safekeeping.

I never saw him again. We spoke on the phone a few times in the years to follow but he could not forgive me for leaving him and I could not forgive him for waiting so long to ask me not to.  A year later he married another girl and last I heard he finally got the life he always wanted. He is a nice guy with a nice job and a nice wife and even a couple of nice kids. I'm happy for him because I know how bad he wanted all those things.

And every year when the season begins to change, when spring starts to spring, I think of him. And what might have been. But mostly about what was...

Describe what you think makes a great president...

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 17:31:15 GMT

Hmm...that's a poser. Let's see, he should be handsome with thick white hair, a slightly jowly face that makes you want to pinch his cheeks...he should play a wicked sax and smoke cigars...he should be capable of being humbled as well as becoming righteously angered when called for. He should care passionately about his country and his fellow countrymen. I don't care what he does on his own time or who he screws as long as it's not me...well maybe, under the right circumstances...

Okay since there is little chance we are going to get William Jefferson Clinton back into the White House as anything other than first hubby, here is more realistic description:

I want a president who has been poor, who has struggled and overcome. One who knows what it's like to not be able to pay your doctor bills AND still buy the prescription meds that are keeping you alive. One who has sent an unsigned check to the power company and an empty envelope to the phone company, hoping to buy a few more days to come up with the money...I want a single mom who knows how to make 101 things out of hamburger or a dad who worked for Boeing for 20 years and was laid off due to budget cuts in a struggling economy. I want someone whose never had a haircut that cost more than $15 and wears a suit that is either a hand-me-down or was purchased off the clearance rack. How about someone who used to be a waiter or a dishwasher or drove a city bus or taught third grade. Someone who knows how scary it is to live in a world where violence and poverty and drugs are more than "issues" to be used to garner support. Someone who has been touched by those things in their own life. Someone who wakes up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night worried that their youngest child may be called to serve and die in a war they don't support, for a country they are struggling to still believe in.

I want an American. Not a politician. Not a democrat or republican. A human being. With a soul and a heart and eyes wide open.

Anyone who knows someone who fits that bill..lemme know where I sign up to support them

My V-Day Rocked

Fri, 15 Feb 2008 19:16:10 GMT

Yay V-Day! I got a rose delivered to work from my baby. Oh, sweet baby. The poor delivery man had a heck of a time finding me since it was addressed to Plyote Hausen and no one had a clue who that was. Funny. Then my baby came down and had lunch with me. We had a wienie roast at the office. Sort of. Costco actually did the roasting and we did the eating. Seems fair to me. Then when I got home after work he gave me my present...Elizabeth, Woman, Warrier, Queen on DVD. Yay! We rented it last weekend but I fell asleep both times we tried to watch. I'm still recovering slowly from the evil flu and I was a sleepy girl. Then the topper was that I didn't have to cook dinner. First we wanted pizza but I'm currenlty boycotting pizza slut because their nasty little delivery boy from the lewiston store was a complete jackass to me the last time I ordered and when I complained no one even bothered to call me back to respond. I can tell when my business is not wanted. And I hate domino's crust. So then we walked down to Bojacks but it was packed to the gills with other hungry lovers. So we trotted back home and ordered chinese. Yum. I always get sweet and sour spare ribs and french fries and his maj gets peapod beef and rice. Then we watched reruns of Airline and other assorted DVR'd things. Here's the best part...for the first time in the history of ever...my darling husband planned ahead for the holiday. He bought the movie and ordered the flower over the last weekend when we ahd the rental car. Kind of something a husband would do. I was beyond touched. Sure do love that boy.

Other than that, we're still waiting to hear about the car we want to buy and we are planning on going to see the house we hope to rent tomorrow. If we get the house we are also getting a puppy so we're excited about that possibility. And especially that miss moo will come to live with us and let me spoil her for awhile. Fingers crossed.

life...currently pretty good.

What happens if they get total control of the internet?

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 22:57:17 GMT

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23150188

just another of our freedoms in danger of being stripped away....

things and such

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 19:46:46 GMT

So we may have found a new car and a new home. Cross fingers or say prayers, whichever suits you. The car is a Ford (hangs head in shame) Tempo, cute little blue deal with corny graphics on the side. V6-5 speed. High miles but we just want to get from point a to point b so not real concerned and it's been well kept except the interior needs a good scrubbing. Waiting to see if the power steering pump needs replaced or just a new hose and if the car lot will fix it for us. If so we're taking it. Yay. Much much more room than the datsun for sure. The home is in downtown lewiston in a questionable but improving neighborhood . Found the guy on craigslist.com (thanks for the suggestion brandi dear) he is buying it from his aunt as an investment and plans on remodeling it bit by bit over the next few years. Two bedrooms so MIss Moo could come and live with us until she goes to Tennessee. We could even have a dog since he is not planning on redoing the floors for awhile. Only $400 a mo which is damn reasonable but suggests it might be a bit rough on the inside and from the pic he sent it's definitely rough on the outside. But charming with a little porch and a laundry room on the back. I think I may have partied in this house back in the 80's which is a touch worriesome but we'll see what condition it's condition is in on Saturday when we go meet the guy Edward. I'd love to be able to tell our landlord to kiss our collective butts. So much for living in a "quiet" building. Between the girl upstairs who never sleeps and likes to clean (she may be on crank...we're starting to wonder) and the girl downstairs who likes to crank her tunes at inopportune times, my poor husband is losing his mind and big chunks of much needed sleep. And more than anything in the world, I want my baby girl to live with me again. I want to spoil her, wash her clothes, feed her healthy meals, clean up her messes. It's what I've dreamed of and longed for since I moved out. Now if I could get the boy moved in as well...but one dream at a time.

Other than those two major deals, pretty quiet round our hovel. I'm already starting to pack and clean and sort and toss. I love moving, I know that's wierd and when your in the middle of doing it, it's a drag, but I love fresh beginnings. I love figuring out where to put things in cabinets and closets. Arranging furniture in new ways. I love packing things and unpacking them...it's like Christmas all over again.

Frustrated and Frightened

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 00:45:03 GMT

I've lived most of my life with my head firmly buried in the sand when it comes to politics, gov't etc. I liked it that way actually. I always assumed that our gov't was set up nicely by the forefathers to police and govern itself without my assistance or supervision. Silly silly me. Apparently, I was not the only one who felt that way.  Cuz look at where we are now...

In the last few years, thanks to my husband who is king of conspiracies, I've had my comfortable middle class blinders ripped from my eyes. Like everyone else in the country I wept and prayed on 9.11. I cursed the "terrorists" who perpatrated such horror and evil on innocent people. I swore vengence on the bad guys and I actually cheered and welcomed the war that followed. Someone had to pay. Boy howdy. Someone does have to pay but the war in Afghanistan didn't do it and the one in Iraq is not going to, nor whatever future war our govt is plotting. And I firmly believe that is exactly what they are doing at this moment. Deciding where to go next. And I have no doubt that if we, the people, make noise they will have absolutely no problem reminding us why the war on "terror" is so necessary. I firmly believe that our own gov't at the very least allowed 9.11 to happen to us. At the worst I have now come to believe that they may have actually had a hand in it's planning and execution. They are most certainly profiting from the aftermath of the tragedy, they and their rich Texas oilmen friends.

And I know that thanks to the many freedoms we have handed over to them in the years since 9.11, it's possible that they are reading this post. But I don't care anymore. I won't let fear stop me from standing up and shouting that this country is well and truly fucked if we don't wake up FAST and take back our rights and our freedoms and DEMAND that our gov't be held accountable for it's crimes.    We cannot allow the republican empire to continue to reign over us, to strip away one by one what little freedom we still have. We can't allow the "fear machine" to scare us into accepting video surveillance of our every move. We can't hand over control of the internet, the last bastian of free speech. We can't let a handful of Republican companies control the media and color everything we see and hear to suit their purposes.  Remember the book 1984? Doesn't seem quite so farfetched now, does it?

It's time for a grass roots movement, it's time to go old school and start a buzz on college campus', in coffee houses and back alley's where ever people gather. Spread the word. Stand up. Speak out. Demand we be heard. Take back what is ours. Stop letting them wipe their asses on the Constitution.

I want it clear that I absolutely support the men and women of the military. I am grateful to them for the enormous sacrifices they are making every day. But right now at this moment someones son or daughter, someones husband, wife, lover, friend, is dying in a foreign land. American blood is being spilled in the sand and it's not being spilled for honor or duty or glory or even revenge. It's being spilled for greed, for oil. For money and power. And this year it's someone else's kid over there but in two years time it could very well be my kid. Or yours.  And I don't know about you but I don't want my son giving his life for the glorification of George W Bush or the like.

In regards to the upcoming election, a poll on cnn.com said that the chief concern of the American public in this election is the state of the economy. For real? Can that be true? Cuz I could give two shits about the price of tea in China when people are DYING in a war that no one I know continues to support. My number one concern is getting our men and women home, safe. And not sending them to another country, another fight that is not ours. I want to know what our gov't is doing about that and I don't want to hear anymore of Bush's double speak stumbling bumbling BULLSHIT.

We're not stupid Mr. Bush and we are not blind.

We see you and we know what your up to and for the moment we might be immobilized by fear, confusion and the desperate need to believe that we can still believe in our gov't and in our country. But people are starting to whisper and that whisper is going to quickly turn into a roar...we're coming for you, one patriotic American at a time.

Stand up. Speak out. Demand justice...it's the American way.

Wastin' away again in margaritaville...

Thu, 31 Jan 2008 18:50:36 GMT

So I finally branched out a little as far as my friendslist goes here. I added a group called damnedportlanders which, not surprisingly, is a bunch of really cool peeps who live in Portland. They talk about all kinds of things that fascinate and amuse me. One guy has posted some old TV clips from the 70's and 80's, including a commercial for my favorite restaurant when I was a kid-The Organ Grinder. This place was so awesome, the entire front wall of the restaurant was glass, displaying the giant, intricate tubes and accessories of the pipe organ that gave it it's name. You went inside and stood in a line that often snaked back out the doors and down the sidewalk. Cafeteria style you ordered your pizza-oh and it was amazing pizza too-pitchers of soda and desserts. We always sat in the balcony area so we'd have the best view of the organ which raised up out of the floor every hour, the organist in black tie and tails already seated at the keyboard. A movie screen above the organ showed Laurel and Hardy flicks while the organist played along. Bubbles streamed out of the organ, my favorite part of course. I nearly fell over the railing one night, leaning out to grab one of those bubbles...I was just sure that Glenda the Good Witch of the North was inside and if I caught her she'd have to grant me a wish. Hey, I was five or six at the time...cut me some slack.

I emailed the girl who posted those clips and asked her if she happened to remember a kids show from the 70's that was taped in Portland. It was one of those cartoon shows where the host, usually a wacky middle aged guy in a sweater a la Fred Rogers, chatted with the studio audience (grade school children and their parents who usually remained hidden off-camera) in between cartoons. I've been trying to remember the name of this show for years and bless the girl who emailed me back to say...Ramblin Rod! It was teh Ramblin Rod Show! Yay. Somewhere lost in the annals of time is a scrap of footage of me and my sister, in matching patchwork dresses made by our mother, matching shit-fountain hair-do's on our heads, teased to within an in inch of our lives and lacquered with enough Aqua Net to prevent movement in hurrican force winds. I was singled out because it was my birthday and I was cute damn it. But of course all my friends same me, dressed by my mom with my shit-fountain hair. I took crap for that for weeks...but I did get a Duncan Butterly YoYo and a case of Pop Shoppe Pop so it was totally worth it.

Michael and I have decided we want to retire to Rhodendron Oregon after Max graduates and goes off to college. It's a quaint Swiss Village on the side of Mount Hood. Of course the houses start at $950,000 so we'll need to get rich first. But just think, 40 minutes to Portland, 2 hours to Seaside? I'd be in heaven!

RIP

Tue, 22 Jan 2008 23:55:25 GMT

Godspeed Heath

Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you...

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 22:00:31 GMT

Happy Birfday Johnny!

I hope you have a rockin' day!

2008 like it or not...

Wed, 02 Jan 2008 18:00:12 GMT

Okay so the new year started off pretty nicely. My darling and I spent the night watching a marathon of "America's Next Top Model" Cycles 1-4. I think we're up to Cycle Four now. I can't remember. We've seen so many they are starting to run together in my head. Anyway, at ten till we got dressed in our wintry warmies and walked down to Brackenberry Square for the first dance of the New Year. I couldn't find the earphones to my iPod (son, I'm looking in your direction now)  so we had to dance to our own music but that wasn't a problem I always hear music when I'm with that guy. He's pretty darn cute. So we danced and we kissed and we froze our behinds off and then we ran home to thaw out.

Then we stayed up most of the rest of the night watching more Tyra and the girls and slept late New Years Day. I didn't even get out of my jammies all day yesterday, just flopped from the bed to the couch to the fridge and back again. It was divine indulgence.  Just the way I wanted to start off the new year.

The babies were together at Ashley's playing xBox live and shooting off fireworks and I'm sure munching Melissa out of house and home. I felt good knowing they were together.

So now the holidays are officially over and it's back to the grind. Time is trickling so slowly over here today. I can't believe it's only 10. I was sure it was nearly noon. Ick. I had too much time off apparenlty and now I can't get back into the groove. Oh well. Luckily it's a short week.

In 11 days my husband will turn 41 and in 13 days my son will be sixteen. Wow...time keeps on ticking ticking ticking...

Thanks, thanks, thanks, Thanksgiving!

Tue, 20 Nov 2007 15:07:34 GMT

If someone asked me to create a perfect holiday, it would go something like this...sleep late, watch a parade, bake delicious pastries, cook wonderful food, nap, watch "Miracle on 34th Street", hang out with my kiddies, eat, groan, sleep. Oh wait, someone already came up with that holiday.

My fridge is bursting with food, a rarity these days. Mr. Turkey is resting comfortably, blissfully ignorant to his fate. I made the cheesecake yesterday and by Thursday night it will be absolutely perfect and creamy and delicious. Pumpkin pie for the boy and Irish creme truffles for the girl. A tiny one man white cake with white frosting for the old man. Meg is having dinner at Ashley's grandma's house but she'll be over for dinner. She did not want to miss baby Rylan's first Thanksgiving even though if they are lucky he'll sleep through most of it. I have two dozen butterflake rolls that just might be enough to satisfy my roll loving son. All is well in culinary land. You donkey's!

In non-turkey related news, Asotin is headed to Tacoma Friday for the final playoff game of the 2007 football season. If they win they will be returning to Tacoma next Friday to defend their state title. Max is floating on air and at the same time so nervous he can't stand still. We can't make the trip this weekend but plan on going to state, knock wood.

Oh and the piece de resistance...I got my Christmas present early this year...a 40 gallon saltwater fishtank complete with two Nemo-style clown fish and two Damsel fish, neon blue with yellow tails. They are absolutely hypnotic and I can't stop staring at them. I've wanted a saltwater tank all my life and now I have one and I'm ecstatic. The clown fish are called Emmit Kelly and Bozo (the only clown names we could come up with, I said marcel marceau but michael insists that a clown and a mime are not the same thing.) The Damsels are Liz Lemon and Caractacus, named after characters on 30 Rock our current favorite show. Tonight we are going to Bob's to find a crab or shrimp or other bottom feeder who will keep the tank sparkling clean and amuse us with it's antics. The clown fish are awesome, they have this wonderful bobbing swim that looks like they are dancing and already I've taught them to follow my finger along the side of the tank and up to the top for a feeding. The damsels are shy and run to hide in the plants when I approach the tank. RIght now they are all playing a game of tag and Emmit is it. It's so soothing and relaxing and adds humidity to the air. What could be wrong with all that? I always thought it was too expensive and too time consuming to care for a saltwater tank but so far it's been a breeze. Knock wood. I want a seahorse now but have learned that they are happier in pairs and since they cost about $50 a piece that might have to wait. If I had a bigger tank I could have a puffer fish and a shark...so now I'm dreaming about that. Thanks Santa Claus. Delightful...

Am I blue?

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 17:52:41 GMT

Well here we go again. Please feel free to look away while I whine

Type your cut contents here.So as I may have mentioned before, my husband is the definition of the word "Scrooge" He hates Christmas and not only does he hate it but he seems to take pleasure in ruining it for me as well. Case in point-I asked for $400 to buy presents for my kids for Christmas. No one else. My parents get nothing, his mom and Mr G get nothing. As usual I know not to expect anything for myself. But then his ex, lovely girl that she is, suddenly slapped us with a child support suit. Even though when he got sick and couldn't work she was in the process of selling their previous home and had told him that if he didn't ask for any of the proceeds she'd never ask for child support. She got $190,000 for the house and probably walked away with $80,000 or more in cash after all was said and done. She had a second mortgage she had to pay off but she took that out to pay for the divorce, her new boobs and the lavish lifestyle she thought she deserved. Now she's rethought that position and decided she no longer wants to work at the career she sacrificed her family to get. She wants to stay home and raise the grandbaby and hang out with her boyfriend. So the $179 a month she is currently getting from SSI that comes out of Michaels payments each month is no longer enough for her. We just paperwork asking for another $150 a month. He gets $630 a month and I make about $1300 so it's not like we're living in luxury over here. We have a 30 year old car, a tiny one bedroom apartment and a shitload of medical bills backed up. That $150 a month is going to really hurt. And guess where my lovely hubby wants to take the first payment from? The Christmas fund natch. He thinks spending money on presents at Christmas is a waste of money and he accused me of trying to buy my childrens love. Here's where I really start to whine. I've really given up a lot to be in this relationship. The obvious of course is not living full time with my kids but that's not really his fault but the result of bad choices I made. But I've had to give up the hope of romance and passion, a social life of any kind, travel. I've had to rethink and sometimes renounce my religious and political views, my thoughts about morality and what's right and wrong. I've tolerated his constant need for attention and affirmation and the ways he seeks it. I've tolerated his mood swings, sometimes violent ones. I"ve dealth with and helped manage his illness. I"ve worked my ass off to keep us afloat financially and I've never once let him go without. I cook, clean, do laundry, shop, pay bills, work full time plus a part time job for most of our marriage, manage his meds, massage his aches and pains and generally slather him with love and affection. Not enough. Never enough. I'm so tired, so sad. Why does nothing in my life turn out the way I expect it to? He say's my expectations are ridiculous and unrealistic. Is it unrealistic to ask for love and respect from the most important person in my life? To ask for consideration, care and concern? I feel like pieces of me keep getting chipped off and thrown away. Things that don't please him about my personality or character he nags about until I change them or let them go. I'm slowly disappearing into this relationship that is almost completely of his making. I am not allowed to ask for change from him but he demands it from me. And still I love him so deeply, want him so badly, enjoy his company above all others. He can, with a look or a touch or gesture, make me so happy. But also so completely frustrated, miserable and confused. Tomorrow I'm sure I'll get glad in the same pants I got sad in and we'll go on. Until there's nothing left of me....

Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me...

Wed, 24 Oct 2007 23:52:09 GMT

What the heck? I thought there was something wrong with my friends page but apparently it's because I only have two friends and both of them are observing radio silence for some reason...

I spose it's forgivable since one of you has young children and a part time job to wrangle and the other one is a newlywed but c'mon!

I'm so lonely....

This, that and the other

Sat, 29 Sep 2007 01:01:54 GMT

Well what a week that was. I'm so freaking grateful it's Friday. I'm not sure I'd make it one more day.

My job description is expanding daily and while that is exciting and all, I'm whipped. My brain is overloaded with new info and worst of all I'm required to be ORGANIZED!!! If you know me, then you know organized is not my thing. Krikey. But it's coming around. I actually managed to download and ship 16 terminals and 8 pin pads today. That was a miraculous feat if you ask me. Go me!

My new co-worker is growing on me. I did not like her at first and I am still not quite convinced she's gonna be a team player, but she is endearing somehow and I found out that we have a great deal in common. She is also a wannabe writer, an avid reader and a maniacal wordsmith. Yay! I have been surrounded by numbers people at work for so long it will be such a delight to have another words girl in the house.

What news? Oh I just saw pics of Rylan Quinn Bailie and I have to say he is an exceptionally adorable baby. Especially for a still wrinkled fresh baby. They often don't come out so cute and have to grow into themselves. But Rylan already looks just like his Mama with her pert Irishness and I can't wait to get my paws on him and squeeze.

My honey is still a sick sick boy and it's starting to scare me. Seriously. Scary. He keeps saying this is just a "spell". A particularly nasty "spell" but one he's sure will pass any second now. I'm beginning to have my doubts. He is so pale, he's barely eating once a day, he sleeps four hours at a time if that and goes 20 or more hours without sleeping. He has bags under his eyes, natch and he just looks rough. Still my adored handsome hubby and all but a shadow version. I'm giving him a few more days and if there is not marked improvement he's going to the doctor or the hospital or somewhere with smart people who will fix him. Right? They can fix him? Can't they?

Now I'm going to go and watch Muriel's Wedding and eat popcorn for dinner since my darling is sleeping. that will distract me. Oh and tomorrow is the day they bring out all the Halloween decorations and costumes at the Goodwill. My favorite day of the year! I am armed and dangerous, this year I'm bringing my own shopping cart. Do not get in my way! I am shopping!

A little bit of this and that

Thu, 27 Sep 2007 16:17:07 GMT

Well, fall is falling rapidly and I could not be more delighted. Season of Seasons! My joy rises as the leaves drift down and all that boo hoo. Football and crock pots full of delectible goodies, warm hoodies and thick sockies and rainy days curled up with a good book and a blankie and the man I love. Yum.

Oh and welcome to the world Rylan Quinn Bailey, 8 lbs 11 ozs born at 7:45 am on 9/26/07. My mother's birthday. He is apparently adorable although I've yet to receive the email my daughter promised me as proof. I can't wait till he and Ash come home and I can get my hands on his chubby self. Double Yum! Delicious baby chub!

What else? Between my ex and Michael and I we managed to scrape up the $375 it costs for our son to take driver's training. It was touch and go for awhile there, we're all so broke from the start of school and vacations and such. But we made it and we can all relax. Phew.

So all is well. Except for my poor hubby who has been in increasingly intense pain for two weeks now without any kind of real respite. He drugs himself to sleep when I go to work and sleeps the sleep of the dead all day. When I come home from work I squish his feeties and rub his back and he is better long enough to eat something and take more pills and then he spends the next 12-18 hours doing anything and everything he can to distract himself from the pain. He won't go to the doc and I'm afraid that it's the celebrex that is not helping but he's convinced it's better for him than taking handfulls of pills every day. I'm making a doc's apt today and this time I will go with and be the pushy wife instead of the wimpy patient and his discombobulated mother.

Oh and in the other sucky news of the day, Heather has again thrown us all, especially poor Tony, for a loop. Apparently her loving mother caught wind of her plans for a reconciliation and relocation back here and freaked. She won't allow Tony to influence Heather in any significant way. And she will never allow Michael access to Adia. I should have seen it coming but we didn't think Heather would tell her until it was a done deal. She did not. So Lisa promptly went out and bought heather a storefront consignment shop in Salem. Baby and maternity clothes. Already successful with a steady clientelle. It's a great deal for Heather and for Adia who will not have to be in daycare ever again. She will go to work with Heather at the store. Poor Tony who dropped out of school, quit one job to take another higher paying but more all consuming job, pissed off his parents and rented a two bedroom apartment with a 2 year lease he can't get out of, is really screwed. Plus I'm not sure but we think she also dumped him again. High and dry. Wanna be a family? Do ya? Oh yeah, too bad. Not gonna happen. Not today. But stick around in case i get bored again....

I've lost what tiny shred of respect I had for my stepdaughter. But I wish her all the best. Her daddy, who was actually suckered into believing he would be invited into his granddaughters life at long last, is crushed. Nice.

If I had a hammer...

Tue, 25 Sep 2007 14:13:38 GMT

Man I am just getting beat up at work lately. First of all Melanie, the most awesome supervisor on the planet, the one who knows everything about everything, moved herself to Montana. Oh sure, she got an amazing house, happier safer kids and the relationship of her dreams in the bargain. And she gets to work from home via telephone, fax and computer. But how could she leave me? Anyway, just shortly after she bailed it all went straight to hell round our place. My office mate started acting foolish and then up and quit. She was seconds away from being fired anyway. Preemptive strike I believe that is called. But since her defection guess who has inherited the bulk of her duties? Oh yeah, that's me. The upside is that I can now add downloading credit card terminals and extensive UPS shipping experience to my resume. The downside is that I'm so stressed from urgent deadlines and the massive amount of information that has been stuffed into my brain. I exhausted from running madly from one part of the office to the other, downloading terminals at the tech bench, running to my desk everytime the phone rings and the temp doesn't have a clue what to do. She's a beaut. I know that I'm starting to be like Seinfeld, no one pleases me, but this chick is just a pain in my ass. For one thing, she has no volume control. No inside voice. And she doesn't care what I'm doing or if I'm on the phone, she will stand behind me and say my name at increasing decibles until I respond to her. She might end up getting a response she don't like soon. Cuz, I'm a little tense and looking for an outlet. Temp just don't know. Anyway, the worst of it is the record keeping crap. Every piece of equipment that comes in or goes out has to be tracked in about ten different places and notes have to be made in teh database for every freaking thing and that's just too much thinking for me. I'm a customer service specialist. I talk to people and find gentle and supportive ways of telling people they are screwed. I can say "Did you not read your contract before you signed it you absolute moron?" in a hundred different non-offensive ways. I can input data at the speed of light. But record keeping is not my strong suit. And hey, this shit ain't in my job description. And my boss is oh-so-helpful saying things like "The number one reason I fire people is for downloading terminals wrong and sending them out to merchants" right before I downloaded my first terminal. She wasn't joking. And then there is the part where I know how much more my office mate was making than me for the job I'm now doing. Hmmm...something's going to have to give.

On another note, my computer at home is freaking out. We have some sort of virus but all my anti virus software swears we don't. For one thing it's getting slower and slower every day and for another everytime you do a search and then try to follow a link it jumps you to another search engine webpage. Everytime. It's horrible and I have no idea what to do. Someone said that you can set your computer back in time to a time before the virus hit. Does anyone know if that is true or have any suggestions for what I should do? This sucks!!!!!

Blather

Wed, 19 Sep 2007 22:25:16 GMT

My husabnd, the tough guy, is about to hurt himself worrying about a horrid, filth infested baby squirrel that fell his stupid ass off the top of Main Street Grill and bounced his noggin on the sidewalk. This happened yesterday and although I begged him with his weakened immune system not to touch the hideous thing he couldn't bear leaving it on the sidwalk so he carried it down to Brackenberry Square and put it in the Y of a tree. Naturally the stupid thing is still lying there looking pathetic. Michael is lucky it hasn't bitten him and given him the rabies. I know that is callous of me but ick! I hate squirrels almost as much as I hate cats. But he insists so I called Fish and Game who gave me a ladies number who takes care of such creatures. So now she wants us to BRING it to her. Are you joking? Just what he needs is to be driving around with an injured possible rabid squirrel. I see nothing but disaster here folks. I'll keep you posted on this one.

And then, I know that as usual I am completely behind the curve on this one but I've recently discovered my newest musical crush. We have VH1 Classics and we tape the heavy metal show every saturday night. They play all the old goodies from Twisted Sister and Cinderella and Metallica and the like. Well the other night we were fast forwarding thru one of the shows and came across "She Sells Sanctuary" by the Cult. Never a Cult fan myself. Tam likes them. Well, then I saw adorable Irish Ian with his awesome little kickie feeties dancing around like a Celtic dervish. Is there such a thing as a Celtic dervish? I know not but that's what he looks like. It was instant adoration. Then I began to hear the heavy Celtic influence on the music. I dont' know yet if all their stuff has that sound but I plan to find out.

I'm always late to the party...but I get there eventually!