Mumford & Sons - Winter Winds

Dear Roger: Its a Fly By The Seat Of Your Pants Kinda Life

Its been a busy few days around here. I had to deal with another eyeball melting migraine that left me feeling so crappy that I really just wanted to hide in my room for a couple of days, but since I have never been allowed that luxury, I just had to keep pushing on through and trying to deal as best I could while I lost my ability to see green and red fonts,(the latest and weirdest side effect) and the tinnitus pretty much drowned out everything else. I finally got off my ass and found a new doctor and with that comes a procedure that is kinda like going on a blind date/job interview for a job you dont really want.

I have spent the past couple of days filling out the medical history and let me tell you, seeing it all on paper is like...whooo..wow...im fucked up. Between rolling my truck down the 1-40, all the crap I got into as a cop and a firefighter, and pissing off men that were waay bigger than me for too many years, my body is a road map for 40 miles of bad road. The bright side is that I dont have anything like heart disease or communicable stuff and I am very cognizant of my health so I work on maintaining a healthy lifestyle other than I may smoke a little, but considering all the other shit I could be into, one or two cigs in a day is not gonna seal the deal for me. I am hoping the new doctor doesnt want to go poking around in my spine or my brain. The last time weird stuff started happening, the doctors decided that on top of all the mris' and ct's and eegs and all tests, they needed to stick needles into my spine and not only withdraw some fluid for testing, they injected stuff to deaden the nerves in my lower back to stop the pain. I did not know my heart could beat that damn fast! Because yes, I was awake as 4 sets of needles were directed into each side of my spine in the middle off my back and the stuff was injected. One wrong move and I would have been fubar, and being helpless is not something I could handle. The thought of going through that kinda crap again is a bit unnerving.

Soo, we got a cat yesterday. We had been debating it for a while, and though I wanted to go and get Fergus with all my heart, I know I could not take him away from my boys. They need him and he needs his space. Soo, I bowed to the the desires of Chance and Stevie and I got a cat. We looked at cats at the shelter, we looked at cats on CL and we looked at cats in the paper. I found a woman,(Russian) who had a a few kittens whos feral mother had abandoned them and because she was caring for a disabled husband, she needed them gone asap, so we went over and looked. The father was a Bengal, and she said the mom was an extremely tiny fluffy looking cat. She brought out 4 kittens crammed into a shoe box and the poor things were shaking and terrified, except for one.His head popped up right away and he was yelling and looking around and bellyaching about everything. He has really interesting markings on him and in fact the pattern on his head looks like a small skull. he has green eyes and 4 white feet and he is quite the griper. All the way home he sunk his claws into my boobs and yelled in my ears, and once we got here, he didn't want anyone out of his sight. There has been some disagreement over his name, and though Stevie and I had agreed on Daniel, Chance called and audible and said that the the name just "doesn't fit".He went into this long dissertation about,"Jeeze mom!,With all of Stevie's Twilight stuff, the one time we have something where the name Jasper would fit because hes small, blonde and bites like a freaking piranha, and you are gonna call him Daniel?I mean, what the hell?"I gave him the raised eyebrow and asked,'YOU,You, want to name the cat Jasper?!" Im more than a little confused at this point because he is always the one flipping me and Stevie crap over being fangirls, " Well, even Susan thinks it fits" he muttered at me, that comment really raised my eyebrows, "Wait a minute, SUSAN? my "convinced that its a sin to pretty much even mention the word Twilight, friend,wants to name the cat Jasper too?!" Im picking up my cell phone at this point getting ready to out my friend as a closet twihard. "MOM! The name Daniel just does not fit the cat." By this time Stevie is starting to cave and she is sitting next to her brother who has the kitty cuddled up to his once again bare chest, as she reaches over to pet it, the cat turns and sinks its needle sharp teeth into one of Chances nips and then begins raking its little claws across his chest as it tries to escape my daughter. Chance squeaked and his eyes began to water in pain as he gently tried to make the kitten let loose,"Ahh, I see...how about Jasper Daniel?" I said, and dont you think you should wear a shirt until he gets a little less likely to use you as a scratching post?

The cat did good last night. I got up this morning to find him asleep on Chances chest in the middle of the living room floor, and I found that he had actually used his litter box, so i guess he will get to stay. My son has always been good with animals, and he has always been a bit of a cat person, so maybe this tiny little critter will help him like Fergus helped me, and naming it gives him a bit of a sense of responsibility for it as well. We will go in the next week or so and get it some toys and goodies and I will get him fixed as soon as he is old enough to cut down on all kinds of hassles.

Next week I get to register both kids for school!!! Uh, YEAH!!! hell YEAH!! Chance will be in high school and though he has missed the start of football camp, he is still able to be in football if he wants to, so I have been pricing the needed equipment and its freaking me the hell out! The boy is in a growth spurt, and that is a huge problem because he seems to shoot up over night. His shoes are now tight on him which means that he now needs either a 12.5 or a 13. Holy Monkey... a size THIRTEEN shoe? I dated a guy who wore a size 13, but he was over 6'4 and in his 30's, not a 14 year old. While we were wandering around looking at shoes and stuff, Sus and I came across a size 18 tennis shoe! We were both momentarily floored by the implications of such a beast...,"Could you imagine, if the old wives tales were true?" Sus whispered. I picked up the shoe and told her that I needed to go find my "Cinderfella", a little louder than I should have because the clerk in that department overheard me and he turned a bit pink around the ears...im guessing he wasn't a fit. I tend to believe its more related to hand size anyway, thats why I kinda have a thing with those guitarist hands...anyhoo, its gonna be expensive as hell to outfit the boy for sports this year! Between football, track, baseball, and whatever else he decided to get into, I have a feeling its gonna be a daunting prospect.

Im still trying to get a guitar for us. I have decided to try and trade my jewelry for one and though my jewelry is one of a kind stuff and most of it I have had for a few years,its kinda a niche market, so I may not have a lot of luck at it, but I have a barter ad up on CL and I am at least trying. Chance got to play a $5000 Gibson the other day and he about lost his freaking mind. That was hands down the most expensive thing he has ever been allowed to play by far, and he really liked it quite a bit, and now he has heard the difference between a cheap 100 off brand and the real deal and its killing his soul. Kinda like what happened to me when I got to play the Dobro. The good news is that job prospects are starting to look up and because of all of my glitches, I will get a little extra help in my job hunt. As for school, its still the great unknown. I cant get anyone at NAU to return calls or answer the phone, and until next month, I cant pay the fee at Reed, so I am stuck until the Winter term, but its no big deal either way, because with the writing I have been doing, I really dont need some school program mucking it up with a bunch of busy work.

It finally cooled off up here and I am glad! Its been hotter than balls up here and we have all been extra crabby, so hopefully now that Portland is back to its typically mid-seventies kinda days, we will mellow the hell out a little and maybe I will quit feeling like a salamander stuck in mid-shed.

The video I finally figured out how to post on my site is of a band that I just recently found out about,(yeah, I do live under a fecking rock) and its yet another case of love at first listen. The really are another talented bunch of guys and I have had their stuff on pretty much constant rotation since I found them. When I figure out how to build a play list, or when I bribe Chance into doing it for me, I will put up a list of my favorite 100 Monkeys,Avette,and Mumford and Sons stuff along with the Barnstormers and Cage the Elephant. If you dont know who any of those bands are, check them out, they are pretty damn good. I wanted to go see MAS in concert up here in October, but apparently they are pretty damn popular and they are sold out, but I am scouring CL to see if I can get lucky, and yeah, I know they appeal to a certain element,and I dont give a rats ass, if you haven't read my previous blogs and aren't aware of my feelings on the matter, then you need to educate yourself. Love is love is love, and hurt and pain are hurt and pain, doesn't matter what what type of boots your love happens to wear, they all go on the same way.

Mumford and Sons - Liar

Dear Roger: Somedays It Just Sucks To Be

I seem to excel at getting on my sons shit list this week. No matter what I do, its wrong, no matter how hard I try, it isn't enough, and just when I think all is going smooth, he rockets off into either rage, or he turns into Captain Emo. This parenting shit is hard and if I wasn't a stubborn ass Texan, I would have said,"fuck it" and just thrown in the towel and put my boots on and walked a long time ago.

I have tried reasoning with him, but I have discovered that like most men, you cannot reason with him. He has a one track mind and his mind right now seems to fixate on a few topics and he just cannot see anything past those things. The first fixation of his is that he is majorly pissed that we are poor. I cant freaking help that right now. I am trying, but its not my fault hes not some spoiled ass trust fund baby, my dads side of the family blew the money long before he was born, and then my dad took what was supposed to be my inheritance and blew it, so we are screwed, blued and tattooed when it comes to money. Im disabled, as in fucked up, not supposed to work, as in many days cant work. I get headaches that partially blind and cripple me and I injuries that just really dont make life very fun most days, so even though I really do try to work, and I have held some jobs, its really hard to find the perfect fit. His biological father has never contributed a single dime to his support, ever.Though he came from money, and was a successful person in a few fields including acting, he only contributed his biological material and a death threat, and even though my son has been asking if he could reach out to him and see if he would be willing to meet him, the thought of that scares the hell out of me. My son has been pushing the issue lately and I am more than a little afraid he is going to try and find him via the internet, though my searches have revealed that he keeps a pretty tight layer of security around himself and he would probably only be contactable though a formal agency, such as a lawyer or the state.I do still have the number for his parents place in Santa Monica, and it still shows up as a valid number, but even though my son is a physically large young man, and strong, emotionally being rejected or even threatened by someone that looks just like him could be devastating.

My sons next obsession is his body and all the changes he is going through and talk about a land mine of a subject! He runs around without a shirt on most of the time and one of his buddies commented that he must be "less evolved"than the rest of them! Okay, I did not kick the kids ass, but I did say that no, it was just that my son was maturing faster. Hes already got a six pack,and hes a bit fuzzy and its driving him insane. I want to know when in the hell it became the style for men to get harassed for looking like men? So what if he has the beginnings of a beard and mustache and chest hair at 14? My God, he is a BOY! They were supposed to be hairy the last time I was around guys, but for some reason he is convinced he is supposed to be smooth and hairless like some chick! He obsesses over it and when my very expensive, fancy assed razor kept either disappearing or turning up out of place with weird hairs caught in it, I knew something was up in the weird department. He hardly ever wears shorts because he was sensitive about his legs looking,'all muscle y and weird and hairy" but the heat wave we have had broke him and he came out of his room in his boxers to Al Bundy it up in the living room one day and the boy looked like he had been attacked by rabid ants and there was not a hair to be seen anywhere on his legs,or chest! I was speechless for a good long while and I just kinda stared at him a bit before I said, 'Ill just bet that razor burn is a real bitch in this heat with all the sweat running into it." That was shortly before we had the whole,'gay" discussion. I started hiding my razor after that because the damn blades are expensive as hell and he dulls the heck out them with all the manscaping, and I have tried to reassure him that men are supposed to be fuzzy, and THANK GOD, some of the actors in hollyweird and some of the young rock stars are starting to look like men again, but still...geeze, its all the mixed signals that leave me feeling like im back on the pogo stick in the minefield with the screamo going again.

When I call my mom or even my sister for guidance, they just laugh at me and wish me luck, but I really wish you were still around, or that I had some young guy that I could call for advice on what the hell to do for him. He has been so abused and jerked around by the men in his life that he has no idea how a normal man is supposed to act, he knows how an abuser and an alcoholic acts, and he knows how to abandon people, but he has only gotten to spend maybe a grand total of a few months around normal, well-functioning, successful men, and that scares the hell out of me. Without a grandfather or an uncle close by or even good, close friends, he is floundering and so am I.

I have taken some steps to try and let him know that I am trying. I am working on getting him a guitar.I dont have much, but what I do have I will sell in order to get him one, because I know he misses his music, and that was one thing that was a positive in his life, and the fact that my ex wont send his guitars up here pisses me off to no end, but I cannot focus on yet another loser male in our lives, I have to work on fixing the one that still has potential, even if he resents the hell out of me for trying.

Dear Roger:Scars and Marks That Are More Than Skin Deep

Well Fuckity,Fuck Fuck!(to quote some of my favorite people) I knew things were rocking along a little too smoothly, and just to remind me that life likes to give me a swift kick in the ass when I get a little too full of myself, I got some of the warning signs that my noggin is on the fritz again. I have tinnitus pretty much constantly, and while there are times its just an annoying little mosquito hum in one ear or the other, there have been times it seems to almost drown out everything else around me, including music. It has been pretty much constant over the past few days, and then something that has never really happened before struck me, I lost my ability to read red or green colored fonts on my computer! I could tell there was something there, but it was just like weird blurry mess that made my eyes hurt the harder I tried to puzzle out what it was. Yellows and light blues were equally difficult and I have to say, that freaked me the hell out! I often lose vision in my right eye when I have a real bitch of a migraine coming, and my eyes burn or water and stuff gets blurry, but I have never lost colors before. I haven't said anything to the kids or m family because I dont want them freaking out, but I have been dropping down the dosages on the Topamax in the hopes that I could go off of it altogether, but when I started smelling blood and feeling really queasy last night, I knew that I was going to have to go back up to the full dose again, and that really sucks! I hate taking that stuff, it makes it really hard to keep any weight on and it just fucks with me in all kinds of ways. Im trying to keep a positive outlook, and not let it get me too down, after all, my pot smoking, hippy neighbors have actually contributed to me having a little better appetite and probably not so many headaches due to all the fumes and blow by that I have inhaled since I have lived up here. Friends of mine have actually suggested that the reason my headaches have been gone is because my neighbors have been soo generously sharing though the walls, and I am more than a bit conflicted.I am a bit uptight when it comes to that, and due to the ex and his drug issues, it just kinda freaks me out that that one thing that might me the answer to my neuro problems is an illegal substance! But the truth is, my neighbors have been gone mostly over the past few days and that is when my headaches came back, so though I think the issue would need more study, my friends are more than a little convinced. I just have never seen myself as a stoner, in case you forgot, im all about power and control and that just doesn't really mesh with my image of what weed is about.

My other uncle has been on my mind the past couple of days, and I really dont know what has brought him to such vivid clarity in my minds eye, other than I was talking about Robert the other day and he was Roberts daddy. James Colwell, was the only other member of that part of the family I really ever bonded with. He was my Aunt Judys first husband and to call him a,'Character" was a vast understatement. I remember him being lanky and having dark curly hair with dimples and eyes that always laughed.I remember he always smelled like Old Spice, cigarettes, and what I now know was just a hint of whiskey. He was skinny and funny and he would get down on the floor and roll around with us kids and play when the other adults would ignore us or send us outside, and he always called me,'Little Sister" or "Sister", (probably why I call Stevie that today), he played harmonica and guitar and he used to sing old Hank Williams songs for me in my granny kitchen and laugh at me as I tried to sing along with,"Kawliga". I remember him wearing a white, snap button cowboy shirt the last time I saw him that had little bitty roses embroidered in it. He had a gift for the understatement and when he took me fishing once and I made a pet out of a minnow and named it,'George" he risked getting caught by the fish and game officer to rescue that silly thing after I dropped it in the bed of the truck in the rush to flee and then began crying.

When he first got sick, no one told me anything, I just knew that Uncle James was gone alot to the doctor and my aunt cried alot. My cousins started fighting all the time and my parents didn't talk very much. When we went over after he got out of the hospital, he called me over to the couch where he was laid up and I was soo happy to see him I wanted to give him a huge hug and just crawl up against him and make it all better, but my Aunt jerked me away and told me I had to stay off of him. I sat next to the couch for the longest time and counted the roses on his shirt and we watched cartoons and just hung out. He smelled like whiskey and band-aids at that point and his eyes didn't smile as much, but his dimples still shown for me. He died of cancer,(something with his kidneys and liver) two and a half weeks before my 5th birthday and there really is no way I should remember soo much about him, but someday s I can close my eyes and see him in my granny's kitchen with a short glass of whiskey next to him, his ratty old guitar and his smile, and he is laughing at me as I try and sing,'Kawliga". Besides the memories, the only thing that is left of him is the tattered funeral notice I rescued from the trash at my parents place, and I have visited his grave in West Texas a couple of times to just let him know that I miss him. Robert is next to him now, and my granny and pa are nearby. The rest of the family is scattered all over West Texas, and I often wonder where my folks will chose to end up, and while this is a pretty fucking morbid topic to be talking about on such a beautiful day, its one I have had to mull over more than once, especially with my weird neurological issues and the two cancer scares that I have had to contend with this past year.

I try not to be a fatalist about things, but with our family history, its a very real worry with me. I grew up in what is called,'Cancer Alley", and I lost both grandfathers, my granny, Uncle James, Aunt Judy, Uncle Runt, Uncle Charlie, and others and more than a few friends along the way and with Trina having to have that implant that measures the growth of that lump, it just seems pretty much a sure fire bet that one of these days my tab is gonna come due, because Lord knows I abused the hell out of my body when I was younger and that shit tends to leave a mark.

Chance got a good look at some of my marks just a bit ago when I was changing from one shirt to another and the knuckle head walked in without knocking. I had on a sports bra, (Thank God), but he was able to see the full array of scars that are typically covered by even a wife beater and he was a little freaked out,(really helpful for my self-confidence), and I could tell he wanted to ask about ten thousand questions, but most of the stories are best left for another day, when he is older and not so prone to calling me a hypocrite when I tell him he cant have a motorcycle or date a certain person or own a really sharp knife, or jump off the side of a bridge or own a shotgun.

Dear Roger;Obsessive Compulsive and Hard Limits or Why Being a Parent Makes Me Just a Little More Crazy Than Most

I have been accused of many things, being a "controlling, ball-breaking, scary as fuck, bitch on wheels", "Neat Freak"," Obsessive Compulsive to the Power of 10", and the "Female R.Lee", but I really do think most of those things are a little over the top. Just because I like things to be neat, tidy, and in their place and for people to arrive on time and as instructed, it should be expected that I would be a little put out when someone wastes my time by being late or slovenly or perhaps misrepresents what they are capable of.

My background and history has led to many of my habits, and I actually have found that many of my so called,"idiosyncratic behaviors" have actually served me very well. My grandparents were retired military, and as such, they kept everything neat,tidy, and everything had a place because it might need to be found quickly. I learned very young that if I kept my things put where they belonged, they were easier to find the next time. I also learned how to take care of my boots and clothes, including polishing and ironing,(not sewing though,I am a complete failure at that)but I can starch a military crease like nobodies business. Cleaning up after right away when I finished with whatever I was doing was something that I was taught helped to keep the house clean. And always dressing up to go out in public was just expected. I was never allowed to go to town in pajamas or house shoes like I see kids wandering about in nowadays. My grandparents would have shamed me if they had caught me out with my butt hanging out or a huge muffin top hanging over my britches. I was expected to be neat, clean, presentable, and to look as if I owned a mirror, and even though I often wore rock t-shirts and jeans, they were always decent, and as I have gotten older, I have gotten even more self conscious about it, and I find myself requiring the same behavior of my kids even when my ex would have allowed them to go about dressed only in a diaper and a dirty t-shirt.

My house is cleaned every day, and I butt heads with Chance with I tell him I want him to make his bed each morning. "Why should I make my bed,its just gonna get messed up again ?" I explain that its so the house looks neat and orderly and it helps to instill a routine and a sense of pride in himself. " No it doesn't, it annoys the crap outta me because even when I make it, you just come and re-make it because I dont get the edges right." Seriously, the boy refuses to do hospital corners properly just to annoy me. I try to get him to at least fold his sleep pants and put them in the proper place instead of wadded up in the bathroom floor, and he simply flings them through his bedroom door, where they land on his pillow and I bring up the point that his butt goes in those pants and now its on his pillow and I wonder aloud,"Is that okay with you, its not very sanitary?" He just grunts and scratches and wanders into to the kitchen and opens the fridge, preparing to reach in and grab the orange juice and drink out of the container! 'IF YOU DRINK OUT OF THAT CONTAINER IM GONNA THRASH YOU!" I yell, breaking out all three names of his in pure Texas momma. And he just blinks at me, holding the container in his hand while the fridge door is still open. He mumbles that he was going to drink the whole thing and he grumbles about the fact that I dont even drink orange juice,(no wonder,I know that he drinks outta the container), and he puts the container back and roots around the fridge a while longer, pulling out the milk. I should say at this point that he is shirtless, which is against the rules, and he starts to reach into the cupboard for a bowl when I stop him and tell him to go wash his hands and then sit down after he gets a shirt, because if he goes rooting around in the cupboard for a bowl I may just have a heart attack.

My son learned a lot of bad habits from living with my parents. My mom is the anti-housekeeper, and her house is probably the reason for many of my habits.They are also horrible procrastinators and will often either wait until the last minute to do something, or put it off until past the due date and then try and get an extension. They have been supposed to mail me my sons shot record for over 2 weeks now, and when I called yesterday, she was,'Planning on putting it in the mail today." I like to get stuff done as soon as I find out about it, that way I dont have to worry about forgetting stuff. The only things I tend to put off are papers and writing projects because I like having the pressure of an impending deadline. I work very well under pressure, in fact I thrive under it, so other than that exception I get stuff taken care of right away. Dishes get washed right away, laundry gets picked up and put in the hamper and when I have a washer I do it the minute I have a full load and then I put it away. I plan meals and organize the things I need for them. My cupboards are organized, and yes...the cans are all facing the same direction and arranged by product and type, but its so I know when I am low on something. My closets are the same way, colors with colors and styles with styles, and my boots are arranged according to color and style. Yes, the things in my bathroom are lined up and arranged according to usages and I do keep everything clean and I notice when something has been moved. Bedroom is carefully arranged and bed is made as soon as I get out of it. My routines and habits serve me well and I have the kind of memory that allows me to see things as pictures in my head, so that even when it has been awhile and my ex calls me wanting to know where something is in the house back in Flagstaff, I can tell him that the hdmi cable for the tv in the back bedroom is on the second shelf in the master closet on the right hand side about 1/3 of the way back under the spare controller for the xbox,and after he stops mumbling about me being weird and obsessive, he goes and finds it exactly where I told him. Its also how I was able to recall exactly what Stevie was wearing the day she went missing and I was able to describe it right down to her socks, and when she was found the deputy was amazed at my recall.

Some things I just cannot tolerate, and I just kinda freak out a little and perhaps go a tad bit overboard, but considering all the education I have had in regards to sanitation and cleanliness, I think its a reasonable issue. I cannot handle the thought of bugs being in my house or around me. When I was traveling alot, instead of staying in hotels I would often sleep in my truck because I KNOW how nasty hotels are, and the problem my friend is facing right now just cements that thought. Her husband had to stay in a hotel in Idaho on business a few weeks ago and it appears that he brought home a friend when he came back, bedbugs have infested her house! I wont go over there now. I hardly can even stand to be around her without itching or just being freaked out. They have already had an exterminator out and are getting things handled, but its like they are tainted now. Bugs are something that just causes me to lose my mind a little, and some types of bugs just put me a little of the deep end, like lice. Lice will get you exiled from my life. If any of my kids ever came home with them I am afraid I would just freaking move and not leave a forwarding address. Cockroaches are also unacceptable. I dont care how much I liked a guy, if I was deeply in love with a guy and I went to his place and I found cockroaches, that would be a deal breaker, its just....yech. But the one thing that will cause me to abso-fucking-lutely hurt someone is a grand daddy longlegs spider. I do not care that they are supposedly harmless. I do not care that they supposedly aren't even really spiders. I actually even like most spiders. I have no problems with snakes or mice or all kinds of other critters, but if you come near me with a grandaddy longlegs, I will cut a bitch. Its a Texas related trauma that is soo deeply rooted in my psyche that even the mention of the damn things sends a shudder up my spine, and the feeling of pure and utter dread that comes over me even seeing one just pisses me off to no end, that when a ex-boyfriend once thought it funny to try and chase me with one, I picked up a baseball bat and chased him with that, and I had to be restrained from breaking his knee caps when I caught him. I think its one of the main reasons that I just couldn't get comfortable with the idea of ever moving back to East Texas because those damn things are all over the place back there. I was very dismayed to find that they also live out here, and the one I found on my back porch yesterday quickly met a bad end before I had to hurt a boy that might have found it funny to try and harass me with it.

I always try to arrive a little early for appointments, not annoyingly so, but just enough so that I am comfortable and organized and ready to tend to the business at hand. Arriving early has served me well in the past and it was how I got some of my jobs working personal security and on sets. I would often be the first to arrive for squad meetings and that got my face right there in the Captains mind, and he knew I needed extra work as a single mom and he knew I wasn't one that really gave a crap about who someone was,(with one exception, he would not let me guard Trace Adkins), and that really hurt, but he said that I was the reason they needed security! and I enjoyed working those jobs and I was good at it, but I would have missed out if I had drug in late because there were other guys that were bigger and tougher looking and outranked me, but because I was early, I got them and they kept me and my son fed in the lean times. People who arrive late or at the last minute annoy me, its like they see their commitment as an afterthought and not something that should be taken seriously. I make allowances for life issues, but habitual lateness just gets under my skin and I dont tolerate it from anyone, its kind of like laziness.

Chance and I butt heads over some of my rules, and I know that he was allowed to get away with so many things while he was living in Texas, but is it really too much to ask of a boy to;Pick up after himself and clean up the bathroom after himself, wear a shirt to the table and not wear a hat in the house, wear a belt and keep his pants pulled up, dont fart in my kitchen or at the table, dont cuss around his baby sister, shake hands and make eye contact like the gentleman he was raised to be when he meets new folks,say ,"Please and thank you and Sir and ma'am" like he has been taught his whole life. I would let a few things slide like his bed making and maybe even how he folds his sleep pants if he would just remember his manners because I have met more than a few people,(adults included) that have no idea how they are supposed to behave.

Dear Roger;Submission? Me? Yeah, Riiiiiight, About That...

There are times I choose to walk away from conversations with people, not because I am afraid I will lose an argument, but because I am erring on the side of keeping a friendship intact and not revealing too much of myself to those who really dont need to know all aspects of my personality. The dinner conversation that started up over at Susan's house the other night was a perfect example of one of the times I chose to walk away and keep my silence, because while Sus has been my friend for quite awhile, and suspects that there are more than a few twists and turns to me that I keep under wraps, she doesn't question me about it other than in a joking manner, her husband on the other hand is a delightfully oblivious minister who really doesn't know too much about me other than I have some really dark shit in my past and that I am a very tightly controlled person who has a hard time letting go and relaxing enough around people to engage in conversation with strangers or even allow casual physical contact. He knows not to crowd me or raise his voice around me, and he knows that I tend to always be a little bit on the,"alert" side, and as former military, he gets this.

They drug me over to dinner the other night and we were sitting around afterwards watching the boys trying to tie cherry stems in knots with their tongues. It was a bit of a surreal and odd thing to be watching my teen son trying to master, and I was a bit put off by it, and Sus was attempting to tie 2 of them together herself when she said,"I cant get it to go in." I snickered and said,(not thinking of the mixed company)"Thats what she said" as the boys promptly spit their stems in guffaws of laughter and Sus's eyes widened in shock as her husband asked,'Just what does that mean?" Why do you say that?" I told him, its a pop culture reference and it can sexualize and make dirty pretty much any statement someone makes without thinking, and its also a delightfully dirty song. He just looked at me and said,'Ohh, do you really think that is appropriate around the kids?' Well, the boys already are well aware of that phrase and game and it goes well above Stevies ability to understand for now, so until she is able to understand the meaning, I think its okay. I have a fairly open line of communication with my kids in regards to sexuality, I think it helps to keep them from getting into trouble or things that are over their heads. At this point the boys bailed to go play video games, taking Stevie with them so the adults could debate, and I prepared to be interrogated about parenting.

I believe that having an open line of communication with my kids about most things, keeps them from being caught off guard and built up with false expectations about life. I try not to lie to them about the reality of our situation or build them up with false hope, because my parents did that to me when I was a kid, and by the time I figured out what they had done, it was too late to salvage the disaster. They had always told me,"You are going to college, you are going to be a famous photographer/artist, and you can go to the college you want to go to." They let me assume that they had been saving for it like many of my classmates parents had done, so when I applied for UCLA and UC Berkley and all the other great schools that I hoped to study my art at, I applied for a few scholarships, and financial aid, but I wasn't too heart broken when I was told that my parents made too much money and that I was the ,'Wrong minority", until it came time to pick a school and my parents told me that they could not afford to send me to any school out of state, in fact they could not afford to send me to a big in state school like Rice or UT Austin, and I would be real damn lucky if they could afford to send me to the crappy little liberal arts college up the road, in fact, they couldn't and if not for my uncle ponying up some bucks and me managing to get out of the meal plan, I would have never gotten to go to college with my peers. As it was, I got married at 19 to a guy who was in similar straits so we could both qualify as independent, and then I worked my ass off to be able to stay in school. I will never delude my kids the same way. They know they will have to work for their educations unless my book sells or we get really damn lucky, because their father will never financially amount to anything, and being medically retired out of my former career does not make me rich. I also talk very directly about sex and drugs and real life to my kids, because as a former cop, and as a family member of someone who had AIDS, I know the high cost of not communicating, but that doesn't mean that I talk to them about the entire world.

He seemed a bit annoyed that I am very accepting of homosexuality, and I called him on it and said that while there is only one or two passages in the bible that may or may not condemn homosexuality as a sin, there is a whole hell of a lot in the bible about forgiveness and loving ones neighbor, and to me in the whole grand scheme of things, I find things like people who hurt kids or commit atrocities in the name of God, a whole lot more deserving of my hate and damnation than people who cannot help that they love the same sex. I told him about the hell my cousin went through, living in West Texas, having to hear all the ,'Faggot jokes" from those around him, including family members, keeping what he thought was a big secret, until it festered inside him and caused him to drink and engage in unsafe behaviors in Houston, and he ended up HIV positive and a horrible alcoholic. He was a beautiful man, and the one member of that side of the family that actually,"Got" me, and I still laugh remembering him trying to talk me out of getting married to the boy I married so I could go to school. He even offered to take me to Houston with him, and to tell the truth, I wish I had gone, it would have been a hell of an adventure, and he might still be alive. When I was telling him this story, I explained to him that I would not risk my children's lives in that way, that I would make sure that they knew no matter who they loved, that they had my unconditional support and love, and even though I may tease my oldest son for his random comments about young actors making,'Cute chicks", that if he really was that way, then I would support him and I would still be his mom. He asked me,"have you been worried about him being gay?" and I was honest because I am not used to the casual attitude that kids have to the ambi-sexuality nowadays, but I told him that he has assured me he ,'REALLY LIKES GIRLS". I told him that so many of the young guys now days are," Pretty" that its really hard to fault kids for being so casual about things, because the more I see of some of the pictures and films of some of them recent popular actors and such, the clearer it is that there had been a bit of a shift from the masculine ideal of the macho, hairy, tough guy to the younger, sleeker, almost effeminate young men in the past few years, and luckily that is starting to change and facial hair is making a comeback as well as chest hair and a general manliness that will help to erase some of the confusion, but I told him that I really could not blame kids for being confused. Girls are way more sexually aggressive than they ever used to be, and that has left many boys wondering just what their place is in the entire grand scheme of things.

'Well that is the problem, you see the bible says that the woman should submit herself to man and when women stopped submitting, the structure of the family began to fall apart." OOOOOKAY, its "GO" time. Well, if there were men worthy of submitting to, then perhaps more women would have been willing to retain their status as second or third class citizens,but when you have men who are incapable of managing things without either cruelty or inefficiency, then it is the right of the woman to rise to the role of the dominant and take over to save herself and her family. I have had to deal with less than satisfactory men most of my entire life and that is why I reached a point early on when I said that I would never submit again. I have endured much, including beatings and attempts on my life, but,I.submit. to. no. one. I claimed my power a long time ago and I have yet to find someone worth sharing it with, so I stay alone, I answer to no one and I find its just easier to stay that way rather than try and find a man that is capable of following my rules. I think its best that we agree to disagree on this subject and drop it, but in order to stay connected to my kids lives, I follow whats popular, I pay attention to catch phrases and jokes and music and that way I know what is just silliness, and what is potentially dangerous, but I have an advantage,I taught in a High School , so that helped and I really suggest you do the same because you cannot shield them from it all, and its much better to know what they are thinking than to have them sneaking around and hiding all the weird stuff they are doing. My son didn't know I still was able to get into his computer and check his history and all that he had viewed, so just out of curiosity I checked up on him while he was gone. When I went into his history I found lots of music sites, lots of archived messages between him and his girlfriends in Texas, sites visited on physical training and workouts, a few videos from bands I dont much care for, skin care websites, and some gamer sites, but what I didn't find was porn or drug info or any other stuff that would have made me lose my mind. In fact, he had even quit downloading music from one site that I had blacklisted as a pirate site and forbade in my house as stealing. So, I guess I am doing something right.

I got up at this point and started getting ready to head back to my place and he was still wanting to discuss the whole,'Submission" concept with me, and I finally said, Look, I am a sinner, I have been a knowledgeable sinner since I was 16 years old. I could never atone fully for all that I have done in my life, and I spend my days just trying to ensure that my kids have a better life that I had and that I am able to prevent some of the darkness from shadowing them. I send them to church so that they might learn to submit to God, but its to late for me, I submit to nothing but the end and thats how its going to stand. I appreciate your efforts, but they are wasted on me, save my kids. With that, I thanked them for dinner and scooped up my daughter and headed home for the evening, hoping that he would let it drop, and so far he has.

My friendship with Sus has always been an odd one, she is very much a girly/girl and always has to have her hair done and makeup on and she dresses in heels or flip slops and jewelry and all kinds of girly crap that I could never carry off, and I am always in jeans and boots and either black or darker colors and rather tough looking clothes. She never had considered a tattoo until she met me, and now she is considering her second one, while I am on my 6th, soon to be 7th, and though mine have gotten a little less dark over the years that I have known her, they have moved into more visible areas, and with the one that I am going to be getting on my forearm, she has been waiting for me to find the right shop to get it done, but what she doesn't know is that I am going to ask her husband to finish up the drawing of it for me. He is a brilliant artist and though I have the perfect picture from the concert, my sock monkey drawing skills are not what that need to be and Stevie has been wanting to take over.Hopefully he will do it with just a minor amount of negotiation, I have yet to consider selling what is left of my soul for a good tattoo.