About Me

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Portland, Oregon, United States
Middle aged crazy, a little on the broken side,been to hell and back and still make side trips into Purgatory to indulge the masochistic side of my personality. I'm Texan,Southern,Over-educated,arrogant, temperamental,oversexed but under-indulged.Chasing after younger men and the happiness that has eluded me for most of my life.Music and literature are my passions.Finally living the dream in my idea of Heaven.

Friday, December 31, 2010

Dear Roger; The Ends and The Beginnings

Well the year is drawing to a close for us up here. We have made it almost 6 months up here on our own in the Northwest and it hasn't always been easy, but I think we are making some progress. We all seem to laugh and smile a lot more and I am waking up more days happy to still be here rather than wishing I hadn't woke up at all. I know that is a pretty shit attitude to admit to, but when your life was like the life I was living in Arizona, its kinda the brutal reality of the situation. I contemplated giving up more than a few times, and truthfully it was the fear of what would happen to my kids that kept me around. I dont worry about my kids so much anymore. They are doing good and we have all adapted. I still am glad for the distance from my ex. We maintain a peace that is best brokered over a long distance and I do worry a bit about this summer when I am forced to venture back to Arizona as part of the custody agreement, to let him see his daughter and so I can see my sons. I can only hope that the desire to see his child will make him behave, because I know that I will.
We are hanging in here as best we can financially. Money is always tight and we are always stressed about that, but with the new year, comes hope that I will be able to find a better job that actually pays a living wage. My son talks about getting a job, but he is only 15 and that is not going to happen. He needs to be focusing on his school and his guitar and just being a kid while he still can. He is my biggest expense, but that is to be expected, after all, he is growing like a weed and eats food like its free. He has finally found a type of music that really speaks to him and the way his face lights up as he hears a new song or he gets the chords down to one of his favorite songs from Spencer Bell, is something to behold. Its like he forgets all the bad things that have happened in his life and all the abuse and pain and deprivation just flow away from him and he is transformed into a boy just digging some music that makes him smile, until he misses a finger placement on a transition,(then he cusses), but its beautiful to behold and we have both had some wonderful conversations about things and laughed quite a bit. I enjoyed the hell out of pointing out that his new favorite song has the word , "boner" in it,he actually just shrugged and said,"Well, its a dudes song mom, duh!"
My writing is going well. I know I am not getting paid for it, yet, but thats not what matters to me. What matters to me is that I am writing again. I didn't think I would ever really be able to do it, to actually put stuff out there for public consumption and possibly ridicule. My reviews have been across the board fantastic and I have been floored. I got a review this morning that left me just sitting here dumbstruck, because I have never expected to be told I had "Serious talent" and that I "brought the Southern voice to life". This person went on to say that I made them "see the characters and feel their sense of isolation and longing to be loved and accepted." This wasn't some kid writing this review, this was a grown-assed, professional, educated, Southern woman, writing this about MY writing. Rog, I swear to God I had tears in my eyes. Who would have thought that someone would be saying things like that about my writing? Im still feeling pretty damn proud and if I had a printer I would be printing it out to frame and hang on my wall. Im going to have my ex dig out some of my art prints and photography that survived the great artistic hissy fit I threw and I am going to hang them up. I guess I need to show my son that yeah, artistry runs in his blood and I won awards for it, just like you did, so hes not some weird mutant by wanting to be a musician/actor(maybe the actor part)...except for his double-jointed thumbs thing, that has got to be mutant because that is just ...ewww!

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Dear Roger:Teen Boys Define Things Differently

So yesterday was fun. We have been staying home because as per normal we are broke as hell and with the weather being crap, we have no place to go on top of it, so I decided to collect on my promised Christmas present from my son of his full and unwhiney cooperation for some nice family pictures. I have told you before that getting him to wear anything other than ratty, holey jeans and vaguely objectionable t-shirts is like asking him to remove his testes? Or say like getting me in a dress? We all know how that goes... but any way, he had promised, even pinky swore that he would cooperate so I gave him advanced warning after his midday shower that I was planning on doing pictures. He kept sitting and plucking away on his guitar and talking on the computer to his friends. I got sis cleaned up and dressed, I got cleaned up and dressed, then I started asking him, nicely, to please go get dressed. He started stalling and giving me excuses. I reminded him of his promise. He went snarky on me. "Jeesh mom! Dont freak out!" I again asked nicely and tried to emphasize that we had a limited window of good lighting and time to get them done. Then he went sullen. "Just quit talking to me, Im not going to do this is you are going to keep freaking out."
Now Rog, you know I am not a freak out kinda gal. I am very level headed, talk the psycho down, keep it all mellow and smooth kinda person. I would not still be alive if I wasn't because my ex would have slit my throat that day or Mike would have shot me, its as simple as that. I do not freak out. Its just not in my nature. However, I do have a point I reach where I see red. Where I get pushed so damn far that my temper takes over my brain and I do things like charge into fights with people twice my size or I just go a little berserk, but normally its almost impossible to make me reach that point. Only the little vato gang-banger that threatened my family has seen it in the last couple of years, and after the others pulled me away from him, it was all good, because it was a valid explosion. But apparently my teen son managed to push just the right buttons yesterday because I lost it. I didn't go after him, I didn't lay a hand on him. I did bounce my camera and glasses off the floor and I had to reset the door to my bedroom on its hinges,(at least I didn't jerk it off the frame like the one in Arizona), but I went into my room and I sat there listening to music until I calmed down, but I wanted to thrash the world around me. Now I understand why my mom used to beat the crap out of me so damn bad, teens will make you insane and she doesn't have the control I have or the training in how to manage the rage, so I was her favorite punching bag when I pushed her to that point. My son has my smart-assed attitude and sarcastic lip, but lucky for him he is a hell of a lot bigger than me and I vowed a long time ago to never be like my parents.
After I calmed down, I went back out to the living room and picked up my camera,(Canons are damn tough!)and my glasses and then I laid on the guilt. That seems to work well with him. I told him, "I dont normally freak out, raising my voice to be heard over all the commotion in the house is not freaking out, speaking sharply to you is not freaking out, what you saw there just a bit ago? That was a very mild stress out. If you had seen a full-fledged freak out of mine, things would be broken, and I would be most likely be in need of being held down. THAT is a freak out. Threaten my family, hurt my family, you get the freak out, piss me off, you just get what you saw."
I know you know what I am talking about with the whole temper thing, I remember the story about you clearing the bench at the football game that time where you took on half the damn team and it took 6 guys to hold you off. Temper much? Guess I get that from you, much like I get those little warning twinges in my chest that tell me to chill my ass out before I follow in your footsteps with a damn heart attack. So I did mellow out after that, we talked about it and I told him that he needed to realize that pictures were important to me because they are reminders of the ones we love, and sometimes when we lose the ones we love, thats all we have when the faces start to fade. I still dont have any pictures of you. Trina is supposed to go and try to swipe some from mom and dads for me. She said that they had all our family pictures just crammed in boxes under their bed, mixed up with all kinds of other crap and pictures of moms special friend "Lisa" (the chick that she wishes was her daughter instead of me), and her replacement granddaughter 'Little Jennifer", feel the resentment coming off of me there? Oh well you should, they are the ones who get the family trips to Disney Land and Hawaii and all the fun times while mine and Trina's kids get ignored. That bitch is on my parents bank accounts and all kinds of other crap. I just hope she is wanting to take care of them when they are old, because she is the favorite after all. Anyway, thus I digress, Trina said that pictures are just crammed in boxes with no rhyme or reason, so she is going to try to get me some of you and grandma and grandpa so I will have some. I finally have a picture of G, a friend was kind enough to send me one and it means so much to be able to see his face and remember him, young and vibrant and handsome. I wish he was smiling in the picture, because I remember he had the most beautiful smile, but at least I have the one picture of him to remind me that he lived, even if it was for a short time,and I loved him in only the way a girl in the throes of her very first crush could love.
So anyway, he cooperated for a little bit, though his idea of formal dress and my idea of formal dress are soo very different. I decided to just let him go with it. I had to be flexible because after all, Sis was not going to cooperate for hers at all unless Jackson was in them. Its going to be funny a decade or so from now when she out grows her crush on the young Mr.Rathbone, to show her all these pictures, including her school pictures, that have her with the stuffed monkey and remind her that she carried that thing with her almost everywhere and that it even had to be in family pictures. I will even remind her of the fit she threw when my friend refused to allow it to go to church with them. Sis had a full on melt down and had to be brought home early because she was afraid he was going to go to hell. Yeah, pictures are worth a 1000 words.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Dear Roger;I Think I Need Rehab For Adrenaline Addiction

I need the rush again. I find myself wandering through the channels on tv that have programs on them like ,"COPS" and I have been watching old sheriffs department training videos on youtube. I have been dreaming of the days when I was a cop or an EMT and I long for the days when I felt the rush of adrenaline on a pretty much daily basis. I enjoyed the thrill of the chase and the camaraderie of the team and all the excitement of either running a code or going on a call. It was always something different and the potential for danger was always there. I worked with guys and it was often a testosterone fueled environment where I was challenged to test myself and work harder and push myself to limits that even I didn't know I could meet. I miss the hanging out after, drinking beer and telling jokes and being part of a crew where I was treated as an equal because I acted as an equal. I never competed with the women because I didn't see them as my equals. So many of them that came through the departments were worried about appearances, or their hair or nails or they simply just could not hack it. I competed against guys, I worked, played, and fought with guys and I miss them. So many of them have moved on, left the fields we worked in, or even sadly died. Sometimes it feels like the best part of what is me has died. There is just no excitement or adrenaline in my life except for the small thrill I get when I finish a new chapter and post it or I see that I had over a thousand hits in a day on my stories, but beyond that, there is nothing. I miss the rush I used to get when I would have to get up and give a speech or presentation in front of an auditorium full of people. The last crowd I gave a speech to was over 350 people and I spoke for over 5 minutes which felt like forever, and got a standing ovation. I wish I hadn't gone so off the cuff with the speech, because it killed and I would have liked to have been able to use it again. It wasn't the same as kicking in a door and chasing after drug dealers, but it was still pretty exciting. I am going to try to get back into EMS once the damn holidays are finally over, I have to feed that beast because just sitting in an office would be slow death and there aren't many other options for me to feel the rush. I have quit drinking coffee for now, quit smoking for now, I couldn't get laid if I fell out of a chickens ass,I dont have a car so I cant go driving fast to scratch the itch, and I dont have a place to go shooting. Im like a walking bundle of tension and if I dont do something about it soon, something is going to explode and I have a feeling it just might be my head.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Dear Roger: "Queen of Negotiations?" I know you would say more like,"Bullshit Artist"

Its been a bit of a heady morning. Its pouring freaking rain, the kids are driving each other crazy and to top it off, the internet and cable and all that connects us to the world got cut off. They tend to do that when you dont pay the damn bill. But, you know when you live on less money in a month than most normal people make in a week, sometimes you have to make tough choices, but what really sucked is I was like 3 days away from having the money in the account to cover the damn bill! Arrgh! Soo when daughter started freaking out and rolling around on the floor chewing on her foot because we are trapped in here due to the buckets of rain that are falling out of the sky, and we have no car and no where to go and no money, and she doesn't even have a coloring book right now, I decided to take a chance and see if they would negotiate with me. Of course I got a woman of color, and so I just laid it out to her, told her the entire situation and I could hear the ,"Bitch you KNOW you can afford this shit" in her voice, but I kept sweet talking and negotiating with her and she finally said,"Alright! let me see what I can do!" 2 minutes later it came on. Dont know for how long, but hopefully until its a little closer to the time when I can actually pay the damn bill. Damn I am tired of being this fucking broke. I worked, volunteered, served and destroyed my body in public service and I have an education and degree and all kinds of abilities, but I just cant seem to find anything. I have always been able to talk myself out of a situation. I think that is how I kept the ex from just slitting my throat that day. I was doing some fast talking and I dont even remember what all I said, but it must have been the right things, because instead of following thorough and pushing the blade harder, he eased it off. I have been able to talk way bigger people than me into handcuffs when I was a cop, and all kinds of people into all kinds of things when I was a medic, so it has served me well, though sometimes it fails or I encounter someone who is immune to my bullshit artistry. I should have followed through and become a lawyer, I would probably at least be able to pay some bills on time by now.
We got sis's 100 Monkeys dvd yesterday and it was the sunshine in our rainy day once again. We sat huddled on the couch around my sons computer because its the only thing we have that will play a dvd, and we watched enraptured. I was stunned when it opened. I could not have asked for a more perfect beginning for my baby girls Christmas present than for that dvd to open with the concert at the Voodoo donuts, complete with her smiling face in the crowd and the first song being her favorite song,"Shy Water". She squealed and went hopping around the room freaking out and I burst into tears,(yeah, I went totally freaking girly) I swear to God I wish I could have hugged the necks of everyone of those boys right then because that was just soo damn perfect. Son was even choked up as he said,"Thats soo cool". I still get choked up telling folks about it. Daughter was ecstatic about the video and we sat and watched it and laughed so damn hard at some of the silliness. It was a perfect end to our holiday and will be treasured for many years to come. It was another perfect day of sunshine for us courtesy of a bunch of ragtag monkeys.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Dear Roger; Monkey Envy and Realizations

So things are starting to get back to our version of normal. We took down the tree yesterday and put away the few decorations we had put up and I cooked an average dinner last night.Today I am going to brave a grocery store to get some sugar and milk and stuff that we have been out of for a few days. Its been pretty cold outside and rainy, so no real desire to go anywhere for me, but being chronically anemic makes me alway freaking cold, so its not like its a pleasurable experience to go outside when its cold enough to freeze the ass off a brass monkey.
Monkeys...that has been the theme of this whole year it seems. The concert that brought us here, the music of the strange little band that has been our light in the dark times, and daughters love of the cute little rock star that has been endearing and heartbreaking, and now we have stuffed monkeys everywhere. There is her favorite standby,"Jackson" that goes everywhere with her and that is tucked in with her every night, to the newest addition,"Sarah" . She names them all and can tell you all their names and personality quirks.Shes a funny kid. The musical instruments that she got for her gifts were a huge hit with her, and she has been practicing them almost constantly...CONSTANTLY. I walked into my room once last night and she was playing the harmonica, beating on a bongo with one hand, shaking a maraca with the other and playing the tambourine with her foot, I just left her to it.
Son has been working on playing the guitar quite a bit, and he is experimenting with all the different techniques and styles of picking and playing and sometimes it sounds pretty cool, others it makes me cringe for the poor guitar. He sings quite a bit as well, so music is hugely important around here. Somebody is always listening or singing or playing it somewhere in the apt, even at night. Daughter knows our favorite band is back on tour and she has asked me a dozen times , "Mom can we go?" But they are being pretty smart right now, their young butts are down South where normally its pretty moderate this time of year, but the South just got nailed with a huge storm, so they are on the road in snow and all kinds of mess and daughter knows it. She was pretty solemn last night as she was saying her prayers and as she got to her a"And God bless"...she named off every one of those boys in the band and asked
"that they be kept safe."Shes got a good heart, and even when she s ticked off at her brother, it hurts her heart to be upset with him. I hope we get to see them again before they get too hugely popular, Mtv is sniffing around after them and it looks like this may be their year to really shine, so the time of fun, intimate concerts in the sunshine of parking lots may soon give way for the screaming mayhem of arenas and thats kinda sad in a way, but im happy they are getting recognized for the good thing that they are.
I came to a realization yesterday, since I have started writing, the worst of my migraines have stopped. No smelling blood, no nausea and vomiting, no dizziness, no loss of my color vision, no pain that makes me feel like my eyeballs are crawling out of my head. I still have hideous tinnitus, sometimes bad enough to block out most other sounds, but the worst of the migraines have faded. Being able to release my artistic beast is helpful, I think that is what fuels the worst of the migraines, keeping it subdued or starved down, but allowing my mind to just put down some of my ideas and get them out has been fun for me, and I am thriving on the feedback that my stories have gotten. Its a little scary, throwing things like that out in the world, but compared to the migraines that had ripped my skull apart for the last few years, its nothing.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Dear Roger;Pulling Miracles Out Of My Ass? Just Another Day For Me

Well, We made it through Christmas. How sad to think of it that way, but when you look at the holiday with dread because you know its going to be full of stress due to hopes and dreams that you aren't going to be able to meet as a parent, well...it kinda becomes that. The ex was lucky back in AZ, word got around to the Baptist church that his folks used to belong to that he had been off work for awhile and had been struggling, and even though he hadn't darkened their door in over 20 years, the church brought them a gift card to a local grocery store and gifts for the kids, and then they got the local fire department involved and they adopted them they brought the kids a whole bunch of presents for Christmas and more gift cards! THATS what churches are supposed to do. I remember that church that adopted them too, its not the fanciest church in Flag either, its a rather small, nondescript looking building that often has a parking lot filled with lower end cars. Guess it goes to show that the spirit lives in less ornate digs .
The kids church up here did nothing other than the performance that the little kids put on. No potluck, no get together, no nothing. I got invited to go to a performance of a play at a local Baptist church and a get together and I wanted to go,but couldn't get things to work out. I was explaining to my son how a church treats its lesser and poorer members says a whole lot about the church as a whole, and I could see that it was making an impact with my son. I am a big believer that with churches, bigger is not better.
I made some tough executive decisions and I robbed Peter to pay Paul, so I managed to scrape together enough money to buy a few things for my kids and friends. It wasn't a whole hell of a lot, but it made me feel better. My kids seems really happy and even though we ended up not having a fancy Christmas dinner, or dinner at all, the kids had a great day thanks to our friends.Some new friends brought over some Christmas candy and me a present and for the first time since I have been up here I have some candles for my house! I found my rampaging beasts off the chocolate and actually got to enjoy some of it and I am thrilled I actually have another real life friend.
We went over to our other friends house for brunch and they had a bunch of presents for us including a MICROWAVE! Finally after all this time we have a microwave! It was great. They really went all out for my kids and it was soo appreciated. I came home afterwards to relax while the friends took the kids up to Mt Hood to go sledding. I enjoyed the peace and quiet and the time to read and work on my writing. It was a stressful few days leading up to Christmas and I am glad to see it over and done with for the most part.
Daughter is still waiting for her dvd of the 100 Monkeys tour, but the letter that I wrote to her (from Santa) explaining that the dvd was late because it got held up by a pack of monkeys, really impressed her. She loves the new stuffed monkey and she has been carrying around the card almost constantly. I got her a small music set, so now she is armed with a harmonica, tambourine, drum/bongo, maracas and the ability to drive me insane. She has been practicing almost constantly on the harmonica and I had to search her before she left for church this morning to make sure she wasn't smuggling it out with her.
I got son a bunch of guitar stuff so he was happy. He has a capo now and some new strings so he can quit blaming the off sounds coming out of the guitar on "Bad" strings. He was in a pretty good mood for the entire holiday, and we had some nice talks, in the little time he has been around, so maybe if he actually is around over the next few days we will get to talk some more.I got aggravated with him a little bit because he took off on Christmas eve with GF's family. They way I grew up and was raised, that was not done. That time was for family and I would have liked to have enjoyed some time with my son, maybe cooking some dinner and talking nicely, but no, instead we ended up fighting and stressed out because he was waiting for them and then leaving to go God knows where, but away from his family. Sis and I ended up just hanging out together and having a plain dinner. It was kind of a bummer too, feeling like I had to rush through the little bit of Christmas shopping I got to do, he was sitting at home waiting on me and getting aggravated, and it just put a damper on the whole damn day an make me resentful and angry. I mean, who the hell messes with other peoples families on Christmas Eve uninvited? Makes me miss the South and Southern manners even more. He is planning on going to some thing with that church that he belongs to and that is turning into a bit of a deal as well. It started off it was $20 for whatever they are doing,(EVERYTHING with that church costs) and then it went to $25, well last night, he tells me, its now $32! What the hell? I know adults that are going out on New Years that aren't spending that damn much. Hes not going to be drinking, last time he went to one of their things and took sodas, he didn't even get any, so what the hell? That will clean us out for cash, because of course it has to be paid in advance. I really wish he would find a nice Methodist church to belong to, it wouldn't cost as much and I think the folks would have more in common with us.
So now we are approaching the New Year. I told son that we are going to sit down and come up with some resolutions that will make some differences for all of us, and I think one we really need is that more respect needs to be paid to the fact that we are a family and he needs to remember that, I try to remember that he is a young man trying to have a life, but he also needs to remember that his life is with us first and foremost. Hopefully when he is in Texas this summer with kin, he will remember the importance of that.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Dear Roger; Dont Mind Me, I'm Just Having A Pity Party of One

I hate the holidays. There, I said it, out loud,(snort!) if you know why I snorted you are as big of a dork as I am so shut the hell up. You want to know why I hate the holidays? Well? Do ya? I bet you really dont, but you will humor me because you were always like that, you would listen to me rant and piss and moan about shit and then you would give me some sound and sage advice, call me "numbnuts" or "Futzface" or something like that and either punch me in the shoulder or muss up my hair and tell me to get over myself, because in the whole grand scheme of the great big universe, my problems weren't even a tiny little blip, and if I didn't let them eat me, maybe I could do something that would leave a blip someday. But I forget that advice when you aren't here to remind me this time of year. Things start to grind on me and when you have little kids its worse.
I trot out to the mailbox everyday, hoping against hope that we have some boon from nowhere, that we have gotten a card from the kids grandparents have come through and sent them cards or that friends have at least sent us their family Christmas letters telling us what a great year they have had or that some secret Santa sent us a card, but every day there is nothing. No brightly colored envelopes unless they are late notices or bills, and daughter has noticed. She asked me today, "How come we dont get cards at Christmas, doesn't anybody remember us or love us?" Holy Fuck, Rog! I just died inside a little. She is getting old enough to notice. We have almost nothing under the tree. We have the two presents she made at school and I managed to stash a plastic harmonica for her, and a pair of cheap sunglasses as well a a couple of really cheap things I got a few months back, but son is getting almost nothing. The check I have coming from work will have to pay for the damn washer and dryer payment on Friday or we will lose it, so I cant go buy him anything else, so he had a crappy birthday and is going to have a crappy Christmas. I tried local social service agencies, but I guess you have to have been expecting to be broke 3 months in advance or you have to be professionally poor because it was a waste of time. There will be no Marine corp Santas at our door step on Christmas.
I have been avoiding my usual websites and haunts because I just feel so damn out of touch with all the happy people talking about all the food and celebrations and parties. I haven't been to any, nor asked to any. I feel so damn isolated and alone its not even funny, and add to that how much I miss my other two sons and its just a recipe for a perfect storm of a really black depression. I am just lost and I dont even know what to do and thats a hard place for me to be, I am used to being able to fix things for my kids, riding to the rescue and pulling a miracle out of the shit at the last minute, and thats just not going to happen this year and I guess I am feeling like giving up. Daughter misses her brothers and said she wishes she was home in Flag with them, and as horrible as that felt to hear, I really cannot blame her. Son got to go with friends to the beach and he called and said he wants to stay longer, and I told him to go ahead because anything has got to be more fun than just sitting here listening to everyone on tv celebrating and seeing those around us happy and enjoying shopping and all the goodies when we are worrying about keeping the electric on through the end of the damn month.
I am not fit company for man nor beast at the current time, so I guess its good that me and daughter are here by ourselves, I just wish for her sake that for once in her life the holidays could be like she sees on tv and that what every one builds them up to be, instead of nothing but stressed out me and disappointment.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Dear Roger:Happy Birthday To The Man That Changed My World

Its cold this morning! I did not want to crawl out from under my blankets to go start the water to make my hippy tea this morning, but since nobody else was going to do that for me, I didnt really have any choice. Last night was a lunar eclipse, and since it was already pretty cloudy up here in Portland, all it seemed to do was make it a little darker. I imagined what it would have been like watching it with you in your back yard in in Tucson, that always was a pretty cool place for watching stuff that was going on in the galaxy. I sometimes google map your and grandmas house, just to see if there is any reminder left of all the happiness. I think you would have really liked all the things that are going on in the arts now days. Yeah, technology has taken a lot of the artistry out of some things, but it has created entirely new mediums that would amaze an intrigue you. I see movies coming down out in the next couple of years that you would have liked, and I know that we would have seen together and talked about, and music that you would have flat dug. This weird little band that I am in to, you would have really liked them, and I miss that you aren't here to laugh at me and tease me about my fangirling over them. The boy that front for them most of the time has the same birthday as you, and that brings a little sunshine to a day that I usually spend just missing you, because my small daughter is convinced that boy simply hung the moon, so she is demanding that I bake a cake or something today,(I think she just wants cake to be honest) but I will indulge her a bit and let her be happy, after, all, he seems a pretty decent sort for her to look up to.
We wont be going out today, son is still in Long Beach, and we are busted financially, so we will cook at home and just stay in out of the cold and try to ignore all the holiday shopping news that keeps getting crammed down our throats. I got a picture of my son sent from my friends phone yesterday. He was standing on a jetty out on the beach and he looked like he was freezing his balls off. I am actually kinda really glad I didn't go. I hate being that damn cold, and the waves were stupid high, so I would have been a nervous wreck with small daughter hopping around all over the place, so it would have not been a vacation at all for me. You were always a tropical, kinda sunshine person and I had always wondered why you lived so long in Japan and places like that. I got why you lived in California, jeesh! if I was independently wealthy, I would live in California, and I know you missed it when you moved to Arizona after you had your first heart attack,but living in a place like Portland is nice and I know I would really love it if I actually had a car so I could get around a little better and once I get acclimatized. I couldn't deal with the sweaty heat that was East Texas once again. I tried the summer there after living in Arizona for 10 years, and it about kicked my ass. I can imagine that Thailand and places like that were equally as bad, but you seemed to love those places, and I have to wonder if you would be over there visiting Pooky and checking on her to make sure she is safe.
You are a grandpa by proxy, did you know that? One of your girls had a baby. You would have been a fantastic grandpa and her mom and I both mourn the fact she wont know you except through stories and pictures that she has of you. I dont have any pictures of you. I have asked and asked mom to send me some, but she never does and each time they go unsent or forgotten, it is just a little more of a reminder to me that I am nothing to them, but that is okay, I still remember what you looked like, and when I look in the mirror, I see your eyes looking back at me, and I think that is what drove my family crazy.
I hope where ever you are, you are with the ones who love you as much as I do, and that you are happy. I remember you and I honor your memory as best I can. You held me together when the fractured pieces just wanted to scatter into the wind, and without you here, sometimes the glue isn't that strong anymore. You may have not been my father, but you raised me and gave me life and life without you in it just isn't the same.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Dear Roger; Insanity Runs In the Family, But I Think My Sister Got It The Worst

Finally heard from my crazy-assed sister last night, and let me tell you, she has won the contest when it comes to being the most masochistic or crazy. She got a boob job last week, but let me clarify things, it wasn't just a typical ,'Oh my GOD I have had a small herd of children and my boobs are sweeping the ground in front to me" type of boob job, Noo, it was an,"Oh my God I have had two tumors removed, I have had 2 other scares and I have a nuclear implant to monitor cell growth" kinda boob job. SO I can kinda understand. She had all her own breast tissue removed and she had fake boobage put in, but instead of having regular sized boobage stuff put in, she had DOUBLE D'S put in!! OH.MY. DOLLY PARTON! She also had liposuction done and they sucked all the extra fat away from around her gut and butt, and took her down to a size 2! That is soo cheating!She called to tell me all the horror stories that go along with her new boobs, such as the fact that each morning, the muscle contractions of her body cause the fake boob bags to creep up to under her collar bones and she has to manually reach up and push her boobs into place and they POP! back into the slots that they are supposed to fit into! My sis is tough. We are both really stalwart when it comes to pain, in fact we dont register pain normally, but she said last night," You know the kinda pain where you just sit there and think, well, somebody just fucking come shoot me now, cuz that cant hurt any worse than this crap? yeah...thats what this is like. I wouldn't do it again." I died laughing as she told me about how her doctor had sent her flowers and she knew something was up, she said, "Nobody sends flowers unless they fucked up, are fixing to piss you off, hurt you, or you are dying and dont know it." She said her doctor had sent her a really pretty flower arrangement and she knew something was up and sure enough when she went in for her first appointment after her surgery, that doc had grabbed the edge of that big, foam tape bandage and had jerked it really fast and pulled it off, and before my sis could even squawk, she had reached up and shoved her boobs down and told her,"Thats what you are going to have to do every day." and sis said she hollered " Bitch is that why you sent me flowers?" she said the doc just laughed and patted her hand.
My sis tells me she is planning on getting a surgical procedure every year on her birthday! I think she is freaking nuts. I only get surgery to fix crap that is broke, like knees and shoulders and wrists and things that I messed up, she is trying to fight the inevitable slide into middle age.
It was great to talk to her, she sounded good in spite of being in pain and dealing with trying to decide if they are going to stay in Texas or move to Bozeman. She changes houses and vehicles more often than some people change their shoes, but it makes her happy and she handles it well. I think getting her out of Texas all those years ago was the best thing I could have done for her. It was rough and we struggled for a while, but it saved us both.I wish she was closer sometimes so we could hang out more, but we have gone such separate directions in our lives. She found her happiness after years of struggling and suffering, and I am glad. She looked after my son when he was back there and gave him some good advice, and was often the positive role model he needed when he had no one else to talk to .
I told her about my writing, and she seemed genuinely glad to hear I was actually writing again. So many folks who know me are shocked that I am writing fiction again, I guess they thought I really was done for good, and honestly so did I, but I have gotten into it and I have been driven lately and hopefully it sticks around for a bit because its been good for me and I have really enjoyed it, even if it is a bit on the odd side.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Dear Roger; The Strangest Forms Of Therapy Work The Best



The banners you see are for a couple of stories I wrote.The bottom one was one chapter and it was the first and it was cathartic. That is what it is...catharsis. Writing this kinda stuff was suggested by a therapist as a way to deal with some of the pain. It seems to be helping and I have been writing my ass of lately and building a following. Not all of my writing is sad, some of it is actually funny. A friend from Twitter made me the banner and she is making me another one for my other story and hopefully for my funny one as well. I am kinda proud of what I have written, even if its a little strange for a middle-aged woman to be writing such things.
I feel kinda odd at times to be indulging the the 'fan fiction" medium and I really feel kinda odd about outing myself, but considering that I have been able to talk about and write about things that have eaten me alive from the inside for decades, well, maybe I shouldn't feel so damn weird about it.I did actually out myself to my boss about being a writer of it the other day, but only after she outed herself as a member of SCA. We stood in the stock room, both feeling weird and laughing at our social deformities, and realizing that we had something in common in our geekyness. I feel like I am healing some. I am still pretty much of a isolationist, and its hard for me to want to get out, but that has to do with being broke most of the time. I dont fly into rages or depressions as much as I used to, and I am able to socialize pretty easily as long as I dont feel crowded or pressured into situations that take me too far out of my element.
I had a nice talk with my oldest daughter last night. She turned 19 yesterday and I am so damned proud of her. She is the most practical of all of us, careful with money and she has a plan for her future and so far that doesnt include getting involved with any boys or anything else. She wants to get her education and then get her career started so she will be self reliant.She has seen me struggle and train wreck my life has been, and she wants to avoid that. She is artistic and super smart, so hopefully she will do well in whatever she decides to do.
Son had an interesting night last night. He has quite the dukes mixture of friends and its amusing to hear him talking to them because he changes his demeanor with each one. He has one friend who is a foster kid that is struggling with the system because they keep trying to return him to his abusive father and my son and him are really tight because son knows that stress all too well and I encourage my son to be there as a friend and sounding board, another friend is a lesbian girl that teases him mercilessly like a big sister would, and she is funny and he really likes her quite a bit and I think that could be a friendship that lasts a long time because their rapport is hysterical, in fact they could be a comedy team. The friend he was talking to late last night is a young gay guy that is the same age as my son and who is in a few classes with him. He recently came out and he was already friends with my son and as I expected, nothing changed in my sons mind. They were talking last night about the different cultures in the gay and straight world and my son was getting quite an education about what "flamboyant" meant and just what kind of signals he was sending off with some of his attire. He came out of his room one with the phone to his ear and he hugged me held the phone to his chest, and said,"You were right!" and went back to his room. I am guessing some of the clothing and attire tips I gave him were correct. Huh, who would have thunk it?

Dear Roger; Ever Have One Of Those Days? I Think Ive Had One of Those Lives

Yesterday was the day from hell. I got a call from the ex first thing in the morning and that always sets the tone for such a lovely beginning to a day. He was calling because Sticky had said his cheek hurt and he wondered if maybe he had a tooth ache. I questioned him right away about the type and location of the pain and then I told him to get him to the doctor right the hell away. Sticky tends to get Buccal cellulitus and if its not treated quickly, he would end up having to have surgery to drain his jaw and ear. My ex bitched and complained about having to take him in, but he said he was going to. In the mean time I told him to make sure he but warm compresses on it and gave him sour candy to chew on to make the salivary gland drain. My ex then decided to drop a bomb on me and tell me that my sons case worker had called and that I had a phone interview with her on Monday. I am still the administrator for my sons financial interests because ex is a convicted felon and he is legally precluded. So I handle all his expenses and such and I make decisions regarding his him, but due to my ex being my ex and the fact I cannot be near him for safety reasons, he has my child, though I hope to change that in the very near future. I hate dealing with these interviews, they are intrusive and annoying and insulting. My sons expenses vastly outweigh any help they have ever given him, but they feel the need to act as if they pay for the paper he wipes his butt with, and I can tell you, with as much as he uses, that is not the case. His glasses for this last year cost me over $600 in repairs and replacements, and hes gone up a full pant size in a moth as well as a shoe size, so its just a constant struggle to keep up with the expenses of a growing boy. Much less one with special needs that does property damage. I had to replace the front commode twice, pull the pea trap in the front and back sinks several times, replace flash lights, screens, door knobs when keys went missing and fix the van several times because of things he did, so I think I can prove that he is being accounted for handily.
Anyway, so my ex decided to tell me while he had me on the phone, that because he has had to deal with sick kids, he hasn't been able to work and he wont be sending daughter any Christmas presents! That bastard had promised he was going to send her "The Last Airbender" I was counting on him to take care of that for her, and now her Christmas is going to suck even worse? This is terrible. So far she has a set of sheets and a dress and a plastic harmonica. Nothing from her grandparents who had sent word that they weren't doing Christmas because they had too many grand kids, but now her own father is doing nothing for her? I am beyond broke and all the local agencies are swamped. Its going to suck around here so damn bad. Her brother just scoffed and said, "What the hell did you expect from that jerk?" My son was a bit hurt I think, in spite of all what he had been through, that he didn't get so much as a phone call from anyone including the ex, on his birthday. I was pissed about it. My family frankly, sucks. Son was actually nice to daughter a bit yesterday, and hopefully that will last through the holiday and she will at least have that. Son is leaving with my friends on Sunday to go to Long Beach for a 4 day vacation that I was supposed to get to go on with them, but due to the interview/phone call I have to deal with, I cant go, and because I am not going, daughter doesn't get to go either, so the poor kid is just screwed all the way around and that is so damn unfair.
I worked yesterday and it was also a bit of a buzzkill as well. Not only did a mountain of damn heavy assed boxes end up falling on me and I have a whopper of a bruise on my knee and my back, but one of the crazy bitches I work with, thought it would be funny to go waving a razor around me and joking about cutting throats. I dont know if she knew about my "issues" or what, but when she got close to me with that razor knife, I threw a box between us and stepped back and then I slammed into a damn rack full of crap that was right behind me, so the only option I had was to grab something heavy and prepare to bash her ass. Luckily one of the chicks I work with regularly stepped in between us and told her to cut it the fuck out, and the chick looked surprised, "I was just kidding,do you have a problem with razors?" no fucking duh! I was in full stutter mode by then so it took me a bit to answer her, but I said,"No more of a problem than you get after someone tries to kill you using one." I think the look on her face was pretty fucking priceless. She felt like an ass and everyone around her was looking at her like she was the biggest idiot on the planet. I was glad to get done with my shift and go home. I had figured I would be getting laid off pretty soon, but so far they keep scheduling me which is surprising. I dont talk much and I prefer to not go out onto the floor and work around the customers, but I get the stuff done and I dont bitch and complain about things, so who knows, maybe they need me? We will see.
I made Orange chicken for supper last night and son actually took a break from torturing the guitar to come out and eat some dinner. He is working on learning a Spencer Bell song that we both love called,"Beautiful,More So" and I think his problem with it is that hes just not used to playing the more upbeat and faster things on an acoustic. He has been practicing and practicing, and though he doesnt have the sheet music for it and hes trying to pick it up by ear and by watching poorly lit concert videos of guys playing it, he is still struggling to get it to suit him and its funny to hear him trying. He is such a perfectionist and he will be strumming along and its like," strum, strum, strum....CRAP! ...strum strum strum...WTF?!! ARGH!! Strum...MTFKR!! (SON!! LANGUAGE!) strum...strumstrum strum....GODDAMMIT!!" I made a suggestion that he was scandalized to hear, I told him to go hang out by the heater vent that we had in common with the hippy/stoner neighbors, that maybe he was just too tense and angry to be able to play that song. ' MOM! Are you suggesting that I need to be stoned!" No, what I am saying is that you need to quit fighting the music, its not about that, none of that music is about the kinda pain you have, you have to find a place that will allow you to let some of that go so you can feel the better vibes of that song and let yourself get into it. He looked at me like I had grown a second head and told me that I was getting strange in my old age, and then he started playing 'Smoke on the Water" on the acoustic which blew me away. He also plays a bunch of Everlast and Sublime, so the kid has poor white trash angry angst down very well.
Son had a nightmare the other night. The worst he has ever had in his life. It was so bad he was still shaking and pale when I got up in the morning and He was in tears telling me about it. He dreamed that someone had some in and killed his entire family. He was taken to a place that he didn't recognize and that was barren and scary and left all alone. I told him that I thought he was having a dream about turning 15 and that he was now a young man instead of a child and that he was dealing with the death of his childhood in a symbolic way, though I am sad to say my sons childhood died the minute I met my ex when he was 2 years old.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Dear Roger: Road Trips, Horny Teens, and Things That Amaze Me

We made it through is birthday relatively unscathed. I wasn't so sure that was going to be the case, especially since he turned into a giant tool about wanting me to go and pick up his girlfriend over in Vancouver. My friend let me borrow her car so I could go and pick up some things for his birthday dinner, he had decided he would rather have a barbecue with our friends rather than a dinner out, so I had to go and pick up some salad and steak and he wanted a store bought cheese cake, so we went and got all that and then he dropped the bomb on me that he wanted to go and get her. Mind you, she lives way the hell over in Vancouver, it was getting late on in the day and this was dropped on me at the last minute, he expected me to be thrilled about driving in rush hour traffic on the 205 into a place I have never been to! I was a bit torked that it was dropped on me at the last minute and that he copped and attitude about it. She had said that she couldn't come and then she said she could and I was supposed to drop everything and just go get her and be happy and merry about it. He made the mistake of getting snotty with me and then I got mad and it got a bit loud. We bickered back and forth and poor daughter just sat down and got into a her meditation position and started saying,"Ommmm, Ommmm,Ommm" . She has been too close to California for too long. We got it sorted out and I talked to my friend and she said it was cool to go get the girl but that the 205 was going to be nuts, and she was right, it was. I also do not enjoy driving on that bridge, its just a freak out thing. Soo we drove clear to hell and gone and picked up the chick and she sat in the back of the car all owl-eyed and freaked out, looking at me like I was going to eat her, because I just grunted hello at her instead of kissing her ass, though I was VERY impressed to see that my son escorted her to the car and opened the door for her and after she got in, he shut the door and then came around and got in himself. When we got to our friends house, he walked around and opened her door and helped her out and he opened the door for her as well as he served her first and pulled her chair out! I DID GOOD! My son has the manners of a gentleman! Holy hell.
Though he has the manners of a gentleman, he is still a horny teen and I had to make sure an keep an eye on them so they didn't wander off into a dark corner for a make out session. I annoyed the hell out of both of them by being a very attentive chaperon. It was a good dinner and we had a nice time chatting with friends and hanging out, but her parents ran late picking her up and I got a bit annoyed that they would leave us sitting and waiting, trusting me, who is a stranger to them, to protect their daughters virtue! They dont know me at all and as far as they know, I could be some kind of freak, but lucky for them, I am interested in protecting my sons future, so I am as diligent as I can be.
Its been pretty stressful around here, the holidays are crunching down on us and I was supposed to go to Long Beach with friends for a few days away, but now I have to deal with a phone interview for my sons case manager for his disability, so I will be staying home while son and everyone else gets a few days on the beach to decompress. Hopefully they will leave me the car so I can escape the house for a little bit and maybe go to the bookstores or just out.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Dear Roger: Damned If I Do, He is A Teenager After All

Well today is my baby boy, "Werewolf boys" birthday. Its hard to believe he is 15 years old and is such a hulking beast of a young man. I can remember when he was such a tiny baby with little frog legs and fingers that barely fit around the fingers of my friends that like to carry him around and scare me half to death because they were such a bunch of rough neck cops and he was just a tiny little thing. Now he is a big as some as they were. I had bought him a pair of black skinny jeans for his birthday in a 30 waist, and just a few weeks ago a 30 waist was fine, he still is all hipbones and six pack, but he cant button any of his 30's, including the new ones. His shoes are already getting too small on him, and I am wondering what the hell comes after a 12 mens!
His choir concert was last night, and it was drama and stress getting ready for it. He was ticked off that we were going to have to walk in the rain. I didn't know what he expected to happen, I couldn't pull a car out of my ass in the few hours he was at school. We dont have the money for a car. I know it sucks, but its just not affordable for us. I can barely handle the housing expenses right now, a car payment would kill us. Its expensive to support kids and he doesn't seem to understand that all the things I provide for him cost money, but hopefully he will realize it soon.
The concert was okay, but I could not believe how damn LONG it went. I met up with my friends parents who have been good friends to us as well, and we got some decent seats, and when it finally got going, my sons part of the choir sang for a grand total of maybe 5-7 minutes and then the rest of the night was the concert choir and the other groups, but would the director allow my sons group to leave? Oh hell no! We were there until 930! my butt was numb from sitting in that seat. I know it was probably a great show, but I really dont like the choir director, and its not her fault. I have a visceral reaction to her because she reminds me of the drama teacher I had in jr. high school. Yeah, I was in drama...I was also in art and photography and I wore Doc's and I was defiantly not one to the cheerleader types and our drama teacher was oddly one of those who loved the cheerleader types. We had issues, serious issues, issues to the point that I ended up leaving regular drama by the time I went to high school and i went into Technical Theater and I learned how to run the light and sound boards and build sets. Its funny looking back on it, me being into acting. thhhpt! I try to discourage son from getting into it, but I enjoyed it until I encountered Ms Hevner and I realized that it was just a matter of who liked who and not who knew the lines and hit the marks and such. I have that strong sense of injustice that makes me speak out and that does not work in that world where you have to grin and bear it.
Daughter got an award for academic achievement yesterday. I was so damn proud that she was recognized for work above her grade level! I have to say that her handwriting is already better than mine and her coloring when she takes her time, is beautiful. She uses 5 dollar words like they are normal for someone her age and she is in a reading group that is made up of advanced 3rd graders, not bad considering she is a 1st grader. She was so cute when her name was called, she hopped up off the floor and then she skipped to the podium, turned with flair and then curtsied to the crowd as they laughed and clapped. She already knows how to work the crowd! She stood at the front with the other kids blowing kisses and waving while people took pictures. I swear she had been watching concert videos of her favorite little rock star a bit too much because she was mimicking some of his moves. She already dances down the sidewalk in the mornings and sings on the bus I have been told, so she may be the one that is the performer in the family. I had to fuss at her the other morning when we were getting ready to go to the bus because she didn't have her boots on and she was sitting on the couch reading her bible! I have had to take it away from her and make her get up and move before because she gets to reading it and gets too focused. She wrote a cute story for her brothers birthday, but he growled at her when she tried to show it to him and that broke her little heart. I feel bad for her sometimes, I know she misses her relationship with her other brothers and I know that the vast age difference between her and her older brother makes things difficult, but he could try a little harder to be at least kind to her.
I know he is bummed about us being broke on his birthday, but its partially his fault. I had held onto enough money to pay for dinner out, but he asked for my pay card so he could buy lunch. I reminded him that if he used it, we wouldn't have money for dinner out, and he said he understood. I know its harsh, but I have always tried to stress to my kids that there are no heroes for us. No one is magically going to come and rescue us or help us out with a new car and free money and take us away to a great life of leisure in the sun. We have to work and struggle to survive. There are no Prince Charmings, no Knights in shining armor. We wont win the lottery or find an family heirloom worth a few million bucks, and that show that fixes peoples lives cant fix us. We got our fix when we got out alive. We are in the sunshine and we are damn lucky. Nobody is getting hit or threatened and though things are tough, its not about the things we dont have, its about the things we have. We have each other and a roof over our heads and mostly enough food and a chance to do well. Nobody is a drug addict,or drunk or criminal and we are trying our best. Life is not easy and nothing is guaranteed. I have tried to teach him that, and though I have spoiled him along the way by often sacrificing things of mine to ensure he had more than we really could afford, he is a damn good kid that makes me proud even when he is being a bit of a knuckle head. I am going to bake him his carrot cake and we are going to have steak and stuff at our friends house tonight and hopefully he will remember this birthday for the fact it is one that he didn't have to worry about anything other than the typical 15 year old boy worries.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Dear Roger: Insomnia Has The Most Inconvenient Timing

It goes to figure that the night before I have a busy as hell day, I would have yet another bout of insomnia. I swear its like my body just goes into rebellion at the thought of leaving the house to be around people or something so it tries to keep me home by rendering me exhausted and cranky. Last nights run of insomnia wasn't the typical ,'Lets just stare at the ceiling until we are ready to enunculate our own eyeballs , not this type is the worst its the lets let her doze off just enough that shes comfortable and then jar awake all paranoid like there is something going on" type of insomnia. Yeah,,,lots of fun, I woke up every hour or so feeling like something woke me up, so I had to get up and check the kids and the doors and try and figure out just what the hell? Watch enough horror movies or be a cop long enough and you dont sleep so good when you have that kind of night. I was too out of it to write anymore on either of my stories, so I just ended up reading any emails that had come in and trying to go back to sleep until the next jarring awake. I thought maybe it was the damn cats, but they were sound ass asleep each time I got up to check on things.
Today is sons choir concert and he has been bitching and bellyaching about having to go to it. He hates having to wear anything other than ratty jeans and t-shirts and the choir director requires them to wear dress slacks and shirts with a tie and dress shoes, so its like torture for him. He strips it off the minute he steps off stage and he looks offended when I even dare to ask for pictures of him actually looking decent. He is at that age where he doesn't know what he wants to do from one moment to the next other than play his guitar and talk to his girlfriend or eat. My God! the boy can eat! I got up this morning and went into the kitchen that I had left spotless the night before with everything clean and put away, and I found evidence of a quesadilla apocalypse! It looks like he had 4 or 5 of them and half a jar of salsa. I had cooked dinner, I swear I fed him, but he cooked even more food last night and ate again. Its just a little scary.
He has been playing his guitar constantly and he was getting the slower songs down with no problem, so I threw down a challenge to him. I challenged him to learn a Spencer Bell song called,'Beautiful,More So". Its faster and there are no youtube lessons on how to play it, just some random videos of it, so he will have to pick it up by ear. He has been working at it for days now and hes beginning to get it but the language coming out of his room has turned the air around our apartment all kinds of colors and probably made the neighbors think he has Tourretts. I he takes breaks from it every now and then and goes back to his slower, emo, whiney stuff and I just smile at him until he says,"Shut up mom ! Im gonna get it!" and stomps off back to his room to begin trying and cussing again. Hard to believe he is going to be 15 tomorrow, it still seems like yesterday it was just me and my little curly haired ginger boy against the world, and now he is a giant, dark, curly haired man that wanders around the house in his boxers devouring all the food and tormenting his baby sister.
Sis gets her award at school today. I am supposed to be there at 815 to watch her get it, so I have to put her on the bus and then hotfoot it down there. I hope like hell its not raining, otherwise I am going to get soaked, but it will be worth it to see her, because she was soo excited. She sounds soo funny since she pulled that front tooth.She has a bit of a lisp now and some of the bigger works she uses dont come out right, but that makes it even funnier, after all, what 6 year old says "indubitably?" Yeah, I know, besides me, but I was a freak too.
Mom has been calling lately. I had called and left a message on sis's phone letting her know that BW had died, and I guess she is trying to play mediator again because the next thing I know, mom was calling me wanting to talk out of the blue just about anything. I chatted a bit because I wanted to know how Ali was doing, and when I got the news about the full ride scholarship to any state school in Texas, that made it all worth it. I was so damn happy to hear that. Not only would she not be going to Arizona where its so damn dangerous, she would not be building any student loan debt. That was the best news ever.
I ended up having to call mom back the next night because as I was reading the hometown paper I saw that a boy I had grown up with, in fact a boy I had rode motorcycles with, played baseball with his sister and just known all my life, had died suddenly. He was 40 years old, a full year younger than me. Mom already knew which surprised me. They have lived back home for over the last 5 years and had been their typical anti-social selves, not reading the local paper or even associating with folks, but I guess dad had seen it somewhere. I was shocked, because after all, I was the one who had to call them and tell them Sammy had died, and that was the most devastating death to me since losing grandma and you. I wish I could have gone home to see him before he passed, he was always home to me and now that hes gone I really do feel like there is just nothing back there other than sis to make me want to.
My writing is doing okay. A story I had intended to make only one chapter has gotten quite a bit of attention and commentary and folks have asked me to carry it on for a bit, so I have. Its kinda fun to write because I have made it a challenge to myself to keep the characters just on the edge of recognizable, but generic enough that people can fill in their own fantasies. Sometimes I find that folks get waay to caught up in describing their people and it takes away the imagination of the reader, so I have challenged myself to not do that. its hard, and I have had a couple of critics bitch about it, but I wrote them back,(nicely) and explained that I was doing it intentionally, so they will either get it or not. I have found that I am having just a bit of difficulty writing sex scenes. I dont know if its my Traditional, Conservative, Texas, Southern Christian upbringing or the fact that I haven't been laid in so long that I probably wouldn't know what to do with a pecker in real life if one came knocking, but when I was trying to write the scene, I just found myself blushing and vapor-locked. I dont get it. I am not a prude by any shape of the imagination. Oh NO. But writing it? snicker....I even looked at visual aids of the guy that was the inspiration for the story, and that usually gets the motor running pretty good, but I just ...yeah... .Maybe I am a bit of a prude? I mean if my daughter was one of those girls chunking undies or flashing her tatas at him at a concert,I would ground her til she was 30 and hide my face in shame for raising such a hussy, so maybe its just the ingrained moral code that I was raised with that I have a hard time using those words...and writing about the act? That or I have just forgotten what the hell its all about.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Dear Roger: How Does An Under-Achiever Spawn Such Over-Achievers?

Well yesterday was quite an adventure. I decided to get out of the house and take care of some business that I had put off for a couple of weeks. The weather was typical Portland, one minute drizzling and overcast, the next sunshiny and warm. Its hard as hell to know what exactly to wear on days like that, so I went with my typical attire; jeans, boots, leather jacket with Woolrich hoodie and a hat. I walked the mile to the office I had to go to and took care of the business I needed to handle and then I decided to walk up to Fred Meyers to make some copies of a picture of my baby girl with young rock star that I have in my phone so that she would have it for her Christmas. Somewhere along the way I got distracted and took a wrong turn and I ended up walking all the way to Mt Hood College. That turned out to be a waste of time because they are in finals week and nobody is available to talk about anything, so I turned around and walked back up to Fred Meyers. It drizzled on me pretty much the entire time, but I didn't mind, like I said, I have gotten used to it. After I left Freds though, that is when the rain decided to get serious about things. I was midway home down Powell and somebody unzipped the damn sky! Out in the middle of an industrial type area, no place to get into, nothing to get under and boom! So I had to step it up and bit because I didn't want my iPod to get ruined, and I managed to get under an awning of a building. I was soaked to the bone and that wouldn't have been a problem, but I was wearing a new pair of jeans that were just a little big on me...with no belt. Wet jeans, a little large, no belt with no ass left in my pants. I ended up having to hold them up most of the walk home. They aren't huge, but they were loose enough to keep sliding down, and I have no desire to show the world my Victoria Secrets.
Got great news about my kids yesterday. My eldest daughter managed to get a full scholarship to any Texas state college. That means her tuition and fees are paid for the full four years! On top of the other scholarships she already has, and her grants and such, she wont have to take out a dime in student loans and that makes me soo damn happy! She will escape being a slave to student loans. She is such a smart kid and has such potential, I cant wait to see what she will decide to study. My parents keep trying to nudge her into things like being a nurse or a technician of some sort, and I think,"Screw that" she has had all AP classes, was an honors grad that had advanced Chem and Biology and Calc. she could go PreMed! Or Law school or anything, but she has to find her folly, not be pushed into something. I am just going to sit back and let her choose her path. My mother was discouraging her from taking Japanese as a language and I wanted to hit her, Leave the girl alone! If she wants to study Japanese, freaking let her, its her life. I studied Latin and I loved it. I had Spanish in High School and I HATED it, I resented being forced to study it and consequently I only speak Law Enforcement Spanish, but I can read Latin and I still have my Latin books. My parents can be so damn aggravating at times when it comes to their comments about what should and shouldn't be done.
My small daughter is getting some kind of award at a special assembly on Wednesday and she is getting tested for gifted and talented schooling. Her grades are outstanding and I actually had to fuss at her yesterday to quit reading and get dressed for school! She is a lot like me at that age, her nose in a book constantly, but she is very dramatic and outgoing and gregarious, unlike me at that age. She has quite a few friends and is very popular at her church and school, so I see bright things in her future. She is also a pretty hard core and tough kid, she discovered one of her teeth was loose and she worked and wiggled that thing and then just popped it the hell out on her own! I dont know too many 6 year old little girls that do stuff like that.
Stubby is in the spelling bee at his school. His grades are outstanding, when he turns in his work, but his teacher says he doesn't turn in his work most of the time. He is a bit on the lazy side, but when he is told to catch it up and is forced to sit and work on it, he is able to do it in about half the time as the other kids. He is reading at an 8th grade level and is also really damn smart and his interests are alot like my baby girls, he likes to draw and do art work and music, so I have tried to encourage the ex to make sure he has access to a musical instrument at all times. He was supposed to give him the mandolin that we had to leave, as well as look into making sure he was signed up for music lessons as soon as possible, and hopefully he will.
Soo, I have some damn smart kids. I am pretty lucky in that way, but I am so hopeful that they dont follow in my footsteps. I just never really achieved anything. I had the cover of a magazine at 17 with my photography and then I quit taking pictures and I burned my work. I had some stories and poetry published when I was in my mid20's and then I quit writing for over 10 years. I had more than 4 saves as a medic, that means more than 4 people are walking around in the world alive because of something I did. But then, there is someone who is dead because of something I did, so I quit. If I had not failed that boy on his test, he would not have been in his truck speeding to get to Phoenix to take the makeup test, he wouldn't have been in an accident and he wouldn't have died. I failed him, he died. I failed him as a teacher because he should have been better prepared for the test and then I wouldn't have had to fail him. Sitting at his funeral, (the last funeral I ever attended), I knew I couldn't bear that responsibility again, so I quit.
I have always set goals for myself that seemed hard to reach, then I would meet them and just stop. I wanted to be a cop, I made it then I quit. Wanted to be a firefighter, made it, then I quit. Wanted to be a medic, made it then I quit. Wanted to be a forensic investigator, made it and then I quit. Wanted to own a home, got it and then I gave it away. I am like to poster child for failed expectations and AD/HD. I dont know what I want to do now. I have thought about working to become a published author or songwriter, but I already have a few stories out on the web and they are doing pretty damn good and that makes me happy enough. I have debated going back in to being a medic. I was very good at that and it would provide a good living for me and the kids, so maybe my underachieving butt will finally stick with something long enough to make something of it.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Dear Roger; Walking The Thin Line Between Sanity and Masochism

I got drug out Christmas shopping yesterday. Yep, me. My friends and my kids actually got me to get dressed, and willingly get into a car in the rain with two teen boys and daughter and my friend, and drive to the busiest damn place in all of Portland. It took us more than 15 minutes just to find a place to park, but it was actually kinda funny to engage in the hunt, that part I liked, but then...then, I had to willingly get out of the car and walk into a place that was chock-a block full of people who have no idea how to respect personal space. It actually wasn't too horrible. I was in a pretty good mood after eating Thai food at Soy Grill and laughing at all the jokes my friend and the boys made at my happy noises I made while eating. I really cant help it, that food is damn good and so what if i groan and moan just a little while enjoying it? If my friends son is disturbed a little, then he should put his ear buds in and listen to music or something. I dont get to enjoy food very often and that chicken they serve there is just to die for.
Anyway, made it to the mall and inside and right off the bat I noticed that they have started giving mannequins bulges! Holy hell! It was like finding the perfect man! It had no head, but was dressed in grey jeans and a black leather jacket with boots and a red shirt and it had a nice bulge. Perfect! Of course I had to share my observations and giggle with my friend and speculate. The boys weren't as appreciative of our comments and rapidly decided to take off on their own to shop and be annoying teens in the mall as is expected and I was left without my gay buffer, wandering with my friend. We were walking along with small daughter when we realized we were both holding the hands of daughter and it was funny how fast we both let go of her. My friend is just as conscious of the looks we get as I am even though she doesn't get hit on by women like I do. Last night was no different . I saw lots of really cute guys, but I was wearing my usual black jeans, brown boots, belt, black shirt that showed off the goods, leather jacket with hoodie, though last night I didnt have on a hat at all and I realized my damn hair has gotten long! Its now past my collar in the back and my bangs are past my eyes, so its getting to the point where grandma would have had a hard time looking at me again because I know I resemble you so damn strongly. I guess thats a good thing, but it really doesn't help me meet guys. I was wearing jewelry last night, in fact I had on my favorite torque and my usual bracelets, so I was indulging in some girly stuff. I also bought some more jewelry at Fuego for both me and son, but my friend keeps trying to nudge me into looking at girly things for not only wearing but for decorating my house. I bought a new lamp for my bedroom and I thought it really tied the room together, its a bronze, retro look that goes with the 20'/30's Blues club theme I have been working towards in the apartment, and I got told I "Have the decorating style of a Middle-aged Gay Man." I dont know if that is supposed to be a slam or what, but most of the middle aged guy men I know have a great sense of style so I am just kinda thinking that I have achieved a pretty decent look for the place.
The mall venture was nerve wracking with small daughter running about, every time she spotted anything monkey related she jetted over and the ,"Ohh How cute! Oh I want!" started and I really would love to give her everything she wants, including a custom made Jackson Monkey from the "Build a Bear" place that my wonderful friend so kindly took her in and showed her,(Im getting her son drums), but that damn thing was going to run me over $75 bucks after we got it all built and I just cant afford it right now. I couldn't even buy her another sock monkey last night, but she was more into shopping for others and that was really sweet to see. She wanted to buy young rock star a new sock monkey but I explained to her that the picture she drew was a one of a kind and that meant a lot more than some mass produced knit doll and she should be proud of that, so hopefully she was assuaged for a while , but man...shes getting so damn big and smart I wont be able to snow her for long.
We wandered around for over a couple of hours and I found son a few things for his birthday, including a pair of jeans and friend found him a really nice purple plaid shirt that he will love. I got hit on in Macys and I just smiled and I know I freaking blushed like hell, but it caught me off guard because I was looking at bed linens while daughter was off with friend and I wasn't expecting anyone to speak to me. The set I liked is a dark crimson with black designs and its really stylish,a very retro look and it would really suit my bedroom. I was just pricing it out and kinda muttering to myself when I noticed this chick was standing next to me. She was around my age, taller than me, and dressed very fancy, with long hair and very lady like...in other words the opposite of me. I apologized for hogging the aisle and she said," Oh, you aren't in the way at all. Do you like that set?" I told her that yeah, I liked them I thought they would match my decor very well as well as make it really look classy. She agreed but then said," Well would your husband like it?" I said I dont know, dont have one, dont plan to have one, I pick things to suit myself." (thinking back on the conversation I realized that I probably was REALLY sending out mixed signals at that point, but I am pretty dense at times) She said, "Oh well my name is Liz, nice to meet you.", and of course, stupid me introduced myself.It took me a good 5-7 minutes to realize that I was being flirted with. I just kinda stood there for a minute once it dawned on me and I know my face turned every color of the rainbow, but I finally found my brain and said ,"uhh, Im sorry if I put off the wrong vibes, but Im straight.Im soo straight I have 5 kids." She looked a bit surprised which is yet another kick in the ego for me, and said,"Oh, what a pity." and smiled and walked away. I have decided to avoid Macys for the rest of the holidays. I know my friend saw the interaction and she was grinning like a possum eating persimmons when I finally walked back over to her and daughter, and she just shook her head.
I bought some new pillows last night. I was stripping beds to do laundry the other day and I was floored by the disgusting shape of sons pillow! I had just bought the damn thing in July when we moved up here and I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell he did to the damn thing but it was disgusting. I bought myself a couple of new ones as well. Hopefully that will hold us for a bit, though I need some sheets for my bed because the one decent set I have is not in the best of shape. Its nice to finally be able to replace all the second hand and hand me downs that we got when we first got here with our own new stuff. Its been slow going and not always easy, but finally we are getting some decent stuff. My ex doesn't realize how lucky he is with all the stuff he got when he moved into my house, he got a fully furnished, fully set up house with everything in it. The boys even had over a years worth of clothes and I had the mortgage knocked down to a level that is cheaper than any rent pretty much anywhere. He still gripes about my sense of style too, but I noticed that he claims to really love my leather recliner that I left, so my sense of style must not have been too damn bad.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Dear Roger:I Think My Family Needed A Hobby In March

Its like a financial apocalypse for me and the rest of my family in December. As if Christmas isn't bad enough, there is a plethora of birthdays that is shocking in their number and magnitude. Its almost as if you weren't born in December in this family, then you dont belong. I think the only reason I was born in April was by some weird mistake,(but thats a whole nuther topic of conversation),and I actually tried to avoid the whole December birthday thing for my kids, because truthfully when you are a December birthday kid, you usually get hosed on the gift end of things, and you know that as well as anybody with your birthday being so damn close to Christmas. Ill bet you got the whole,"This is for Christmas AND your birthday" line a million times, didn't you? I tried to list out all the December birthdays the other day and it was staggering, and even with that, I forgot my niece on the 17th! SO we have son on the 16th, nephew on 15th, niece on 17th, daughter on 18th,(I failed avoiding it after all),Gpa on 19th, dad on 20th YOU on 21st , sis on 1st. Oh and lets not forget to add to the mix this year, that my young daughter has decided to insist on drawing a birthday card for her favorite young rock star (who happens to share a birthday with you), and demanding I hunt up an address to mail it to and actually mail it. I had to hike my ass a mile up to the post office in the rain, stand in line feeling like an ass and mail the thing because I promised her...gah! As if I was enough of a dork. SO anyways, Son turns 15 in less than a week now and of course we are broke. I am down to 4 hours a week and with the end of the holiday season rapidly approaching, I will be getting laid off, but I have managed to get him a few things for him to enjoy, but it soo damn hard to figure out what makes a teen boy happy. He loves the guitar ALOT, in fact, I think I have gotten to mess with it maybe a couple of hours since I brought it home, and that was with him hovering over me like a nervous mother. He was nagging me about my finger placement and how I was holding it and just being aggravating to the point that I growled at him and gave it back. I swear he breathed a sigh of relief and petted it. Im willing to be he has named it, he sleeps with it next to his bed and spends hours with it in his room practicing and in fact, I heard the opening chords to "Wake Me Up When September Ends" last night and I thought it was on the computer, but it was HIM! Hes trying to force himself to read music, but he plays by ear really well, and he gets that from me. I cant read music to save my life, but I used to be able to hear a tune through once or twice and watch someone play it and then play it back, in fact, that is how I took 1st chair trumpet so fast in band.Our band director played trumpet and I watched him constantly until I told him I wanted to try it. Hopefully son will keep up with his playing. I got him all guitar related things, and for his birthday dinner I got to thinking about it and I cant afford to take all of us out and since he is a young man now I asked if he would like to take his girlfriend out to a lunch date at a nice restaurant. He was floored. I just thought I have to acknowledge that I see him as a young man with a separate life and that perhaps he would rather enjoy some time with her and we could have dinner at home together later. He about strangled me with the hug, so I think that was a 'Yes!".
He finally shaved yesterday. He had a full beard and mustache and daughter was making fun of him by calling him 'Werewolf boy" to his face...soo not cool. I may call him that, but I try to not call him that to his face, unless of course he leaves a pile of hair in the bathroom for me to be traumatized by when I pick up a towel.
Soo, back to birthdays, I have to go out in the rain today and buy b-day cards like some people buy Christmas cards. Of course with you gone and Gpa gone and dad and I dont really have much to say to each other, it makes it a little less to worry about, but I wish you were here, we would be making our own. I still have the one you sent me that year that had a giant BOO on the front with "did I scare you" written on the inside, in fact, I have all the letters and cards you ever sent me as well as the cards grandma and granpa sent me. I keep stuff like that and I am glad, its all I have left of you guys.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Dear Roger; Distance

Ive been a bit of a recluse again lately. I dont know why, I just tend to do this from time to time. I just elect to take a time out and withdraw from things. I haven't done any sketching or even too much writing on my main story, but I think that is because the memories of him were a bit more raw than I was willing to admit to myself. Nothing like having your heart ripped apart slowly over and over again over the course of a decade or more to leave a lasting scar. I haven't even spoken to family lately other than the two that live with me. Son has been okay to deal with. He is pretty excited about turning 15, though I dont know why. He is in another growth spurt and I am just about ready to pull my own hair out. He walked into the kitchen the other day and said," Mom, I think I need a new shirt." and then he showed me the shirt he was wearing, one that I had bought him back in June just before we left Arizona, his wrists hung out more than 3 inches and when he stretched his arms over his head, it gapped well above his fuzzy belly. He also needs a new razor because he got told to shave since he was rocking a beard and mustache. Its pretty bad that my not quite 15 year old son can grow fuller facial hair than some 25 year old men, and I am just floored that he looks so damn mature. He gave me quite a pause yesterday morning when we were in the kitchen joking around as he was eating half a bag of bagels for breakfast. He turned to laugh at me about something and just as he turned,I swear to God it was like a ghost was standing there. The same stance, the same smile, the same way the eyes crinkled up, same color hair...everything, Mike was in my kitchen. I guess I went a little pale because he grabbed my arm and said," Mom? you okay?" and it took me a minute, but yeah, I was okay. I was honest with him. I told him he looked exactly like his father in that moment and he was kinda contemplative for a moment and he said,'Well, thats a good thing in a way , right? after all, if he was able to get roles in movies, then maybe it will work out for me!" Leave it to my kid to see the bright side of things.
I think I saw my guitar yesterday for a few moments. Son has been practicing it every night for hours on end, and he sings along with it quite often too. I dont complain unless its a particularly whiney or emo piece because then that sets into motion a spiral of being bummed out that we all dont need, so we try to keep it light and happy around here. Last night was a bit of a failure in that department as I found myself lost in memories, but we snapped out of it later in the evening and everyone perked up. Daughter is great for that, she usually engages in some form of monkey related madness that we just cant help to laugh at and it helps to keep it all light. The poor cat is the usual victim of her craziness and she drags him and her stuffed monkey around the house like a couple of rag dolls.
My sis gets her surgery today. I am worried about her, but its for the best for her. I just hope she gets to recover like she is supposed to . She is just as much of a control freak as I am and I have no doubt she will try to be up and around taking care of things that she doesn't trust others to do right, the very same day. I haven't spoken to anyone back home in Texas in a couple of weeks. I really just dont have much to say and vice versa. My niece is on Facebook quite a bit and she sends me updates that let me know whats going on with folks and how the weather is and stuff, but since I am not willing to move back home, I am just kinda out of sight, out of mind. I do miss Texas, but the Texas I grew up in is gone. When I went back there a few years ago, so much had changed it made me crazy and a little depressed. The West End was all touristy and Deep Ellum was all yuppified. It felt violated. The grungy lil clubs I partied in are all respectable now and there aren't any wandering punks in those places, the cops in golf shirts on bicycles taze them and haul them off. I cant even imagine what Houston is like now since the hurricane hit. Austin would be the only place I would even remotely consider, but even it has changed and gotten expensive and strip malled. I used to wander back and forth across that state with no worries, sleeping in my car when I got tired of driving, visiting kin in little hick towns in West Texas, just wandering around trying to decide where I wanted to be, but it just doesn't feel the same and I think its more me than anything else that has changed. I cant find home within myself, so I damn sure cant find it within a place. Daughter told me she missed Arizona and it felt like my heart died just a little. I asked her if she wanted to go back to Flagstaff and to her father and she practically yelled at me, "NO! I just miss my brothers and Fergus, but I dont want to go back there." I dont think me or son had drawn a breath the entire time we waited for her to answer my question, because I have given her the right to make that decision, even if it breaks my heart.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Dear Roger; Issues of Faith

Well the light of a new day has shown things in a little brighter light, if you can call my bank account looking like a bomb hit it a brighter light. Amazingly, the charges were allowed to go through by my bank, but now I am in a hole that would take a ladder to get up out of. I am thankful that daughters presents will come through, but now I am stressed about paying bills next month if I cant find another job before then or if the ex doesn't make it right with the account. Its six of one, half a dozen of another as usual. I had a hard time getting to sleep last night, but when I did finally pass out, I slept like the dead. Ive been doing that alot lately but I still feel tired alot. I think I am trying to hibernate or something to avoid the rest of the holidays.
My sis is having surgery on Friday. I haven't talked to her in a couple of weeks and I dont know why, we usually talk a least once a week, but since she is closer to becoming a grandma and so involved with her hubs and stuff, we just dont have so much in common. She is living her dream and I am so happy for her. Getting her breast tissue removed so she doesn't have to worry about the cancer anymore will be such a stress relief for her and hopefully she will be able to enjoy her boob job for years to come. I heard she was planning to go up to a D, though I dont know why? I have been a D since I was 12 and its a real pain in the ass to find bras and cute shirts. She was nagging me last time we talked to go in and get my biopsy done...its been a year now since I was supposed to do that, but Rog, I just am not gonna go there. Im tired. You know my theory on things, that once you find out from the damn doctors that it just seems to speed things up? Grandpa was fine until they told him the cancer was too far spread and he was dying, then dammit...he died. Uncle James was doing okay until they told him the cancer was in his kidneys and liver and then, he died. The damn doctors have done nothing for me for years except throw meds at me and do tests and stick needles in my spine and crap and I am done with all that. I am okay mostly, and I think its just better that I operate on the ,"No news is good news" theory.
Son and I have been butting heads on the whole issue of God and faith. He wants me to go to church. I try to politely decline on the basis that it is beyond my comfort zone because those people seem to have no problem with just walking up and grabbing me or touching me without asking. They stare at me and crowd me and I dont like it. I also have issues with the church music. I am a traditional hymn kinda person. I dont like this whole modern, lets have a damn band with a stadium sound system in the church , kinda set up. I like the old style hymns that came from the heart, sang from the heart with maybe a organ or a guitar as accompaniment. When I used to have faith, I went to a tiny, little wood frame church that looked like a church. It had wooden pews with a pulpit and an old minister with a bunch of old church ladies that made potlucks on special occasions. The floors of the church were wood, and it was old and traditional with trees surrounding it and a cemetery out back. Folks had been going there for their entire lives. I had to dress up to attend, no jeans were allowed. Men wore suits, I wore nice pants, but most girls wore dresses. I didn't go often but when I went it felt like church should feel. That church is gone now,the mine dug up that area for lignite and tore it down. I dont like the big McChurchs with the sound systems and people in jeans and stuff, it doesn't feel right, but then again, God and I have our issues.
When he took G in the way that he did, I quit going to church. It was hard enough to drive past that spot where he died without pausing there and being reminded. But I also couldn't reconcile the belief in a being that would take someone I cared about in such a hideous manner, so I had to take time to consider things. Then grandpa got sick...and he suffered, for months and months, in pain that not even the strongest morphine could touch. I heard mom talking to dad on the phone after she left to go help grandma. Dad wasn't particularly careful about keeping me from knowing what was going on, in fact I think he was angry that mom was gone and wanted to spread the pain. Then when grandpa finally died and I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral to say goodbye...that was another step away. But I slammed the door when the night I was up on the Piggly Wiggly parking lot with my friends, drinking beer and talking and a preacher came up to testify to me and try and "Save me from corruption."I asked him why God would take two people like G and my grandpa when there was so much evil in the world, that G had been a good and kind boy who had reached out to me and been kind and my grandpa had been an honorable and hard working man who had served his country and dedicated his life to service to others? The preacher asked me," Were they in church every Sunday and paying the tithe?" I said that G was but a boy and my grandpa had to work to support his family, so they couldn't always go to church. The preacher said to me,"They are both burning in hell for their sins." Rog, that was the first time I ever punched a grown assed man in the face. I think I would have killed him if my boyfriend at the time hadn't grabbed me and thrown me in the car. I knew then that if that was what God and his minions were all about , I wanted none of it.
I have seen so much in my life. Senseless death, suffering, loss, and things that just seem to not make sense. I try to reconcile that some of it is fate, some of it is karma, some of it is just the way of the world. But getting my son to understand that faith, or lack of it, is a deeply personal thing that cannot be forced down someones throat in a church that they do not feel comfortable in, is a very difficult thing. I am not sure what I believe anymore. I do hope that there is an afterlife where I will find you and G once again. I hope that there is forgiveness and that my atonement and intentions account for something, but I dont think my faith is meant to be mediated by another person, its between me and my God. The strangest things move me. The purity of a voice singing, the beauty of a sunset, the love in the eyes of my child, small miracles that I witness from time to time, but I dont find them sitting in a chair in a McChurch, I just hope son can understand that and if he is able to find it there, I am happy for him, but its not for me.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Dear Roger; If It Aint one Damned Thing, Its Another

Well Rog, you know how I said I felt like I was living under Murphys law? Well, I think the last few days has damn sure proven that. I thought I was doing good with trying to put together a decent Christmas and birthday for the kids. I mean, its been hard being away from their siblings and friends and any other family they would care to be around, but the thought of having a crappy Christmas on top of it was killing my soul, so I was budgeting so damn carefully. I scored the guitar and that was a family present that has lit a fire in my boy like nothing else, so that has made his birthday. I had ordered sis her dvd and a pair of sunglasses to replace the sunglasses her brother had stepped on, and I had even ordered him a pair and yea, I had ordered myself a hoodie to replace the t-shirt I had given to a girl that was absolutely dying for a t-shirt. I had most of the bills handled with some creative juggling and was trying to pick up a few extra hours to give us a few lil things we could send to the boys in case the ex failed once again, but then...the domino effect hit me. Ex calls and says, "Uhh, you know how when I took the van back in JULY I was supposed to get the title transferred and get insurance on it?" yeah..."Well, I didnt do that and I just got a ticket, so what do I do about it?" you are going to have to pay it and get the insurance on and get the damn title transferred and pay the fees for that " Well, I am going to have to have help, because I already spent most of my money for this week." Never mind the fact he makes more money than me because he gets more hours and has a higher paying job right now, and the fact his mortgage payment is lower than my rent,(thanks to me) and if he had done what he was supposed to do MONTHS ago he wouldnt be in this situation, but NOO, instead, he went online and went to the first damn website that popped up and bought some fecking expensive insurance instead off just calling Triple AAA and adding their insurance to the policy I already had on the van. That was the first domino. Then, the things that I had ordered for sis, refunded the money they had taken out of my account, back into that same account...are you following me? You can see the coming disaster cant you? yeah...He hit that account, drained it, its now over drafted nicely. My tight budgeting does not allow for any fuck ups of his level. He is not a 100 Monkeys fan at.all. I think it has just a little bit to do with daughter telling him that she loved the lil rock star more than him, but that could be conjecture on my part. I felt like high 5'ing her when she said that and broke it off in him, after all, lil rock star made her smile and happy, didn't yell and scare the hell out of her by taking a straight razor to her momma in front of her, so anyhoo, now , daughters and mine,(but im used to it) Christmas is fragged. Im scrambling around trying to figure out what or who I could sell to come up with the funds to still get an order in in enough time for her to have it under the tree, but DAMMIT! I wish I could just close out that account, but as long as he has my boys down there, I have to have a way for them to have access to funds and such. The last domino for this evening is im getting a migraine, can feel it building and I think I am going to find a hole to crawl into for the next lil bit and just have a pity party.