Dear Roger: Defective Teen Sons,Soccer and Musical Theater

Its been a bit of a productive week around here. It finally cooled off a little so it is not constantly hotter than Satans scrotum around here and we are all a little less cranky, but we are still broke as hell and that has not made our moods much sweeter. Its frustrating to constantly have to tell my kids,"We cant afford it", especially if the it is something like a loaf of bread or a jar of freaking peanut butter! Yea, we have been that Goddamned broke this month! Leave it to me to forget that this is a very long month, and when I paid up all the bills at the beginning,I neglected to allow for the extra week, can you say suuuuck? On the bright side I always try to prepare for lean times and I had extra rice stashed away and staples, so I have been able to cook up some pretty creative meals that the kids have claimed were pretty good. Last night I made rice with some chicken and green beans, sauteed with some leftover squash and garlic. It was weird, but it was food.

We walked over to the kids new schools and got them registered this week, and while Stevies was really easy to take care of, with minimal decisions to be made, Chances was a whole 'nuther ball of wax. I swear I filled out more paperwork for him to go to high school than I filled out to go to grad school! There were 3 different forms wanting to know if we spoke English at home! I felt like answering ,'NO" after the 3rd one and putting in Gaelic just for the pure cussedness of it because of all the hassle. We met with a counselor and Chance was thrilled to find that he can still play football, though I lobbied most passionately for soccer. I just do not get the whole attraction of football, soccer is much more of a pure athletic event and requires you to be in much better condition and if you are an aggressive player,(like he used to be) then you can still work out your stress on the opposing team, but he would rather suit up with all the other meat heads and play football, bashing into each other for small gain. He claims he wouldn't have allowed me to come to any soccer matches of his anyway because I am,"such a soccer-nazi freak" that I would either pick fights or embarrass him by going postal on the sidelines. I just get into the game because I played it, and I played it well and I have a passion for it, and I miss playing it at the team level, so when those who do get to play it, just half-ass it, that makes me a little crazy. I expect a full measure of effort out of him when he goes out for something and I cheer him vigorously when he does, and I guess he finds that embarrassing.

He also decided to enroll in all honors classes as was his right with his levels, and I was proud to see that he didnt attempt to slack off. He also selected theater as an elective along with musical chorus.He has to audition before he gets an actual part chorus, but the boy is constantly singing so hopefully that will come of some good for him. His school has a swim team and a water polo team, and I asked him if he intended on participating in any of those sports and he gave me the most annoyed look," Mom, I have enough hair on my body for two full grown men! If I got into the pool, they would freak out." So I guess that means swim team is out. He is talking about letting his hair grow back out, though he still insists that he wants to get rid of his curls! How the hell he expects to do that on a permanent basis, I have no clue, but I have tried to convince him that women find curls to be irresistible, and he just rolls his eyes at me and says,"Im not into grandmas, I like girls my age and they dont like guys with curls! Im not a sheep, im a man, mom! Im not cuddly, I want to look cool, not like some old dork." Soo, I offered to just shear him bald so he could look like every other little wannabe rapper he seems to listen to now days, and he did not appreciate the offer.

My son has also been talking about ,"gauging" his ears, as in making his ear piercings into these huge holes that are just GROSS! and I swear by all that is Holy, I will end the fool that does that to my kid. Trying to get him to understand that for someone who claims to want to be an actor from time to time, that he really shouldn't put extraneous holes in his face, is like trying to convince him that skinny jeans are a fashion failure. At least right now I have on my side the fact that he is underage for all that kind of insanity and I can keep him from doing anymore damage than necessary. He has the same genetic quirk as me that makes him someone who scars really visibly, and it just would not be a good thing for him to put holes in his face. He goes all emo on me from time to time, proclaiming that he doesn't stand a chance as an actor anyway because he is a nobody from nowhere, with nothing, but I just try and encourage him to keep his heart on his dreams with his mind in the game that is getting the best education that he can get, with college and other options to support himself while he works towards his goals, but that he cannot let himself give up.

I am supposed to take him shopping for football cleats in a size 13 as well as a mouth guard, and most uncomfortably, a cup and jock.When we were looking over the list of stuff to buy, seeing the color drain out of his face was kind of funny, but then again, it wasn't a particularly pleasant thing for me to consider either, I just do not even want to be aware of my sons bits and pieces at this juncture, and according to online research, the cups come in particular sizes, oh bloody hell! He asked me to just give him my card, but last time I did that, he came home with rock t-shirt, and a "I like Boobies" bracelet, wound up on rockstar sodas, giggling over stuff that had gone on at the mall, so that is not even an option. Its times like this, a rent a man or even a reliable male friend who knows about such things as cups, jocks, and cleats could be utilized to help him with these things, instead of his mom, who is prone to asking embarrassing questions or being an embarrassment, simply by her presence. I wish you were here.

Dear Roger; That Muttering Under My Breath Thing? Yeah, You Were Right!

You always told me that if I kept biting my tongue and not saying what was on my mind I was going to get headaches or a heart attack, so years ago I started following your advice and I started saying what I wanted to say, even if it was under my breath or here on this blog, or in various forums,(thank God for web), because not only have I been able to keep my various twitches under relative control, I have staved off a heart attack longer than you did! I fully expected to follow right along in your footsteps and have my first and probably last major heart attack at 35 like you did, but hell, perhaps following your advice has given me some more time to explore what is going on in the world and that is yet another reason I have to thank you. But sometimes my willingness to speak my mind or randomly comment on things comes back to call me to task or even shock me just a bit.

Even though I write and publish in a forum that is available to most of the public, I am actually a fairly private and shy person. I do not often approach strangers because I tend to vapor lock, and if its someone I have a bit of a thing for, its even worse, I mean I literally just kinda become an all over twitching, gelatinous mess. But from behind the comfort of my computer or my pen and paper, I am brave and confidant and a bit of a smart ass, because I dont have to worry about all my little quirks coming out. I dont normally bother people I like, especially the famous that i follow on twit. But yesterday I was a bit morose and I was sitting on my porch just contemplating the day and trying to find a place to cool off when I saw that an actor who is amongst my very favorite actors of all time, was tweeting about a concert he had attended. I dont know what compelled me, in fact after I sent it, I thought to myself,"You goofy heifer, he probably has 10million others harassing him!" and I felt bad, but I thought that my commentary about my dorky son finding the band lame and that perhaps my son should be returned as defective, was funny...at the time. I went on about my business, Stevie was putting bunny ears on me and squawking about spiders being on the porch, my friend was calling me about the kids going to church, and Chance was griping about my requirement that he clean his hair out of the sink in the front bathroom,(seriously, someone sheared a weasel in there), and I almost missed it, but I have tweetdeck and I happened to hear the tone and I glanced down and there it was...he responded to me! Dork that I am, I spazzed, jumped, and dropped my laptop. Thats right, I dropped my freaking laptop, almost fell out of my chair, and Chance claims that I squealed. He came running out to see what the hell the problem was, thinking that a spider had gotten on me and fearing that if I had killed my computer, that he was going to lose his to me, only to find that I was incapable of coherent speech. I stammered for a good minute while we assessed my laptop and I just pointed to my screen. Chance looked at it and asked the typical oblivious, teen boy question,"Who the hell is that and whats the big deal?" followed by, "Mom, you are such a DORK!" accompanied by a look of both pity and dismay, as if he is afraid my dorky/nerdiness will rub off on him. He stomped back into the apartment and said,'I would have been impressed if it was that lil chick that play Alice, now shes do able." Never mind the fact I was completely disturbed that my 14 year old son say the term 'do able" I did yell back at him that at age 14, nothing is do able for him, it completely stunned and shocked me that I had gotten a response. I am so used to just being able to sit here and mutter under my breath or just throw stuff out into the open without anyone ever commenting back, that it totally set me back on my heels that I arbitrarily got a response, much less from someone that well, to be quite honest, I find to be more than a little interesting for a guy thats my age. Soo, I am not quite sure how I feel about that, I know I wont go off randomly tweeting famous people anymore, that just gobsmacked me and I dont think my computer could handle another drop.

Writing has always been my way of venting, of getting off my chest my feelings about what I find to be injustice, or even my commentary on just what is going on around me, a simple testament of my life and what has gone on. I have always been a bit arrogant, and I have never denied that fact. My temperament has always been that of an artist and as you are well aware Rog, us artistic types do not often play well with others, so rather than mix out in the world, I write and share that way, and sometimes I take pictures or draw, though my drawing is not what it used to be. My photographs used to share my view of the world, but without access to a darkroom and an enlarger, I enlarge my world in the written word, changing what displeases me by simply erasing or marking through, or even hitting backspace when I write on my computer, its much simpler and less dramatic than the great artistic bonfire of '91 that my mother has never forgiven me for,where I burned most of my artwork and photography in the backyard, but in a way its just as cowardly. Writing is the one thing that I tend to let myself loose on, and while I may not speak out loud as much anymore, it does help me find my voice, but when someone hears me, it tends to scare the hell out of me, even if they do consider it as a sneeze in a crowd, it was my sneeze that got the,'Bless you" and for a moment someone knew I was there, and that is what my writing does for me, it reminds me that I was here.

I have been invited to join some groups since I have been up here, and while I find it very flattering to be invited to join and participate, I find that my upbringing and my perhaps repressive, public side has me reticent to make the decision to do it. There are parts of my life that I keep private from the majority of those who know me, almost Jekyll/Hyde kind of life so to speak, and sometimes when those start to overlap, its a bit distressing. My reading habits,as well of most of my social networking habits are kept private from my family and my real life friends and when I go to work, I wont share that side of me with my work mates, but sometimes the language of my other life slips into my real life and that makes for some embarrassing moments. Considering that my verbal filter does not work its best at the worst times, I have done my best to keep my mouth shut when I am drug to church or social occasions around church folks, especially since using the term,' Hard limit" in a conversation, realizing what I had just said, freezing, then stammering out ,'Oh Shit" and then just standing there wishing that I could evaporate the rest of the time. I am not very extroverted. I embarrass easily, and I tend to like to be more of a loner, that just doesn't get into the whole fan insanity that surrounds so many scenes, and I mulled over the invites with that thought in mind. While it would be nice to know more people who share my passions for good music, I am just a little to uptight to call myself a "hoor", and thus is the crux of the matter. I was never the groupie type even when I was young and able to run around after random rock stars, and even though the thought of it would be kinda fun in a truly decadent way now, I am just past that part of my life and I would chain my daughters in the basement if they even remotely acted that way. Luckily my eldest daughter is not interested in men or dating until she finishes college, and my youngest, while in love, still equates her love with that of a teddy bear or sock monkey, so I am golden for a few more years, and then I will see about that basement. My eldest son is the one I have to worry about hooring about, though I am not quite sure after what?

I have use of a car, once it gets fixed that is. Sus has generously said that I can borrow her car for extended road trips to Seattle or the coast so I can get out and explore! I have to make sure that the medication I am on isn't going to keep my blood pressure too low to drive, and I have to keep gas in it and watch my lead foot, but other than that, I can finally break out and go! I am planning on hitting Seattle pretty soon, I have been just dying to get out and wander around and even though I would be alone, it will still be an opportunity to stretch out. After all those years of not being able to go and see and be free, this is like having the blinders off and the threat of the whip taken away. Its amazing to have the power to hang up on him and not worry about whats coming through that door.

I have even been considering trying an open mic night with some of my writing, perhaps letting the voice that has only been seen for many years finally be heard once again. I dont do the ,"Cowboy Poetry" anymore, I left it behind with much of the heartache, but I have new stuff that is built out of a decade of shouting into the darkness, so perhaps a brick at a time I need to throw it out at the world.

Dear Roger;Tech Support is Lacking Around Here So I May Hide His Computer

So with all the free time on my hands while I have been cooling my heels at home, so damned broke I cant even afford to pay attention, I have been trying to figure out how to post some of my favorite songs and stuff to my blogs website,(much like many of my fellow blogsters have done), and while I can post them as blog postings,I seem to be too techtarded to be able to post my whole damn youtube playlist of favorites like I wanted to and its annoying the crap outta me! I used to be the family's go to person for all tech questions, I was the one that was up on all the latest things and I knew how to do it all! Hell, I even worked in a computer lab at my college for awhile, teaching kids how to use the internet, but now days I am falling behind. Its like my brain has been filled up with so much random junk, that I have lost all the valuable abilities that I used to have. I couldn't even properly explain to a kid the other day, the meaning of a God damned Sperber essay! That obtuse, verbose, self-important, frog, was freshman torture when I started off in college and I suffered through his crap for over 2 years, and I could not form a coherent thought. I also find myself losing little bits of other things like laws and things that I used to know backwards and forwards, and in a lots of ways it scares me, but I find it annoying more than anything. I read, I write, I pay attention to what is going on around me, and I practice things that should help me stay sharp, but not being able to make a simple playlist? I have tried to get Chance to do it for me, but I dont allow him or any of the rest of my family into my blog, so it makes it a bit difficult, plus the little shit find it funny as hell to tease me about my failings.

I walked to my doctors appointment today, and that was another example of my goofiness catching up with me. I had the directions wrong and instead of being 400 yards away at the closest office buildings, it was actually 4 miles away, and up hill. I had to beat feet to get there on time and I was a bit on the sweaty side because it decided to get pretty damn warm today, and of course it was a nice and toasty walk in jeans and boots with a black denim shirt. I made it on time, but I was sure to mention that I tend to do goofy stuff like that more and more, though she just kinda laughed at me and said that I should probably go back up to the full dosage of my seizure medications, (something I am not wanting to do), though she did not sweat me about my smoking in light of all the crap I am dealing with. She also suggested a medication to help me get over my acne and to perhaps give my libido a kick start, which kinda left me thinking, why bother? I dont have a man, I haven't really put forth a hell of a lot of effort in looking, and I just dont really want to get ripped over the coals of another relationship. I listened to that last song I posted the other night,I mean I really LISTENED to it after Stevie started crying while she had it on with headphones, and she said that it just broke her heart to hear him sooo sad, so after I listened to it, I thought that I spent a huge chunk of my life feeling that way and it absolutely stinks, and its a horrible way to be, and I just dont want to go through it again. I dont have the strength of spirit, at least not at this time. I like looking, cute boys make me smile and flirting is fun, but to actually open myself up to that kinda pain, of actually just being a hollow shell of who I am for the sake of not being alone at least in the physical sense? nah...I have my screen saver and good music to sing me to sleep, I have interesting stories and books to read, and I have people to talk to and movies to watch with cute boys that make me smile, even though they obviously know a little more about the pain of living lies than they let on. I will just be alone, maybe renting from time to time, and happy to not drag my heart across the razor blade.

Hopefully I will get the music thingy figured out, with all the free time I have on my hands I should be able to get it sorted in the next day or two, if I can keep the damn cat from attacking me every time I start working on it.

100 Monkeys - LDF ( Album - Grape 2009 )

The Avett Brothers - I And Love And You

Marc Broussard - Home

Dear Roger: Claustrophobia and My Issue With Personal Space Keeps Some People Alive

My ex knows how to push my buttons, and for the last week he has done that pretty much every damn day, to the point that he had me so angry yesterday that I wanted to go out and just beat the dog mess outta the first fool that crossed me and that looked enough like him to satisfy the itch.

Its not that I have not got my temper under control, I do. But understand, I do.not. have. any. outlets. other. than.writing. I am starting to go a little crazy. I haven't had sex in so damn long that I think my parts have forgotten how things are supposed to work, and that is really damn frustrating. Its been difficult to get out and go running or get in a good workout due to scheduling hassles and having kids making it difficult to sneak out for a run in the wee hours of the morning without worrying about them waking up and freaking out that im not home,(its happened before) so I have been a slack ass, lazy bum lately and the tension is killing me. Not having a guitar around to plink on,even badly, is also a drag. I was working on re-learning how to play, and even though the damage to my hands makes it difficult, I found it soothing to at least try, and I know that Chance felt the same way. The one bright spot has been the goofy little cat we got. He is a royal pain in the ass, and he yells at me and right now he is biting the shit outta my ear, but he is so funny and its kinda soothing to have him just lay up around the back of my neck on the couch and purr in my ear,(right before he bites the crap outta me and then shoots off into the kitchen to yell for something to eat), and he harasses Chance when he tries to sleep on the floor. Seeing him follow Stevie around and grab onto her monkeys and attack them,cracks me up! She tries to make him behave and he just rolls up in her skinny monkey and starts kicking it and biting and making little growling sounds until she shakes him loose by picking it up and running off with it, and then he just sits there looking after her like,'Hey! bring him back, hes got a purty mouth." hes already litter trained and he damn sure lets us know when hes hungry by yelling at us, so I next week we are scheduling him to get fixed and a good check up so he will be set for awhile and then I am going to get him on a food that hopefully will take care of his gas problem, because for a tiny little cat, he can just about clear a damn room, and considering he likes to hang out around peoples heads and neck areas, thats a bit of a problem. The cat has been a good thing for all of us, and a welcome distraction from the bullshit of the ex calling and stressing me pretty much every damn day, but even with little Jasper,(yes, the fecking name has stuck and I still flip Chance crap over it), I still fume every time my phone goes off with my ex's ring tone. Used to be, I would be happy to hear from my boys, but I rarely get to talk to my boys much, instead it is him, either yelling at me or just bitching and complaining about something that he thinks I am to blame for . I did not make him a lazy,shiftless bastard. I did not make him an abuser that found it necessary to brutalize me and my eldest son. My ex does not realize how lucky he is to be alive I think. He hates me for sending him to prison, but the alternative was killing him and I was going to do it, because I am a person very capable of wrath and hate and when he beat my 12 year old son in front of me like a bad dog, I burned with a hate that has not abated. Yes, the courts system dealt with him. Yes, I got him the maximum sentence for the charges the piece of shit county attorney felt capable of pursuing, but, my son did not get justice. My son was called names like,'bastard', "stupid", and other things that no child should hear, he witnessed things that no child should see, and he is scarred as a result of it. All my kids have to live with my anger and damage, and though I am working on it, the end result is, I am still not the mom I should be, and when he calls and verbally abuses me over the phone, and tells me that he isn't providing for my boys that he kept, in the way that they should be provided for, I get angry all over again. I cannot just refuse to take his calls, because he has my two youngest sons, and if I dont take his calls, he wont let me know how they are doing and I wont be able to talk to them. I miss my boys soo badly, and I worry about them every day, and if the courts in Arizona had been in any way accessible to me, I would have taken them and run, but the judge that granted him 50/50 custody of them and refused to put them on the restraining order,AFTER HE TOOK THE STRAIGHT RAZOR TO ME, was still the judge in charge of our custody case, and until he retires in December, I am stuck, but once that bastard is gone, I am filing for a change and I am getting my kids, unless of course he manages to lose the house before then, and if that happens, I will get my boys sooner, but either way, its most likely a damn good thing there is a good amount of distance between us, because something in me shifts when one of my loved ones gets hurt, and my son is still hurting and God help my bastard ex if he hurts one of my other babies, because no one else will be able to.

I was evaluating my tattoos the other day. I have had tattoos for the last 15 or so years and I designed them all myself, and while the original designs had special meaning, one the application, some of them were not done properly and I have to get that fixed. My best tattoo is the one on my left arm, its my feather and I have had it the longest out of all of my tatts. I got it when I lost you, and after I did a lot of research on our family heritage and the meanings of the various feathers. Being that the native blood runs so strong on both sides, I thought the feather was the best choice, and then I went with Lakotah symbolism for great grandma. The feather is split at the bottom to symbolize the loss from a loved one,(since you are gone I am the only one in the family left that cuts my hair to mourn our losses as well), the end is red to symbolize wounded in battle, and the blue beads at the top symbolize my two children that I had at the time, and the bear claw on the leather thong hanging to the side,symbolizes our family clan and you.The rest of the feather is battered and damaged, but pure white that symbolizes that even though many hurts have occurred, I have remained pure at heart. I didnt go into this one lightly and it has always been my favorite and I had a brilliant artist in Yuma do it.The one on my chest is of a grizzly standing in a forest fire, and it has a lot of personal meaning that I dont share, but its meaning has morphed and changed over the years, even though the tatt has stayed the same. The one on my right arm is a shining example of what can happen when someone else controls your life. Its the state of Texas that was being done to cover a poorly done bear paw, and the artist stopped at what he felt was a prudent place to cease because I had a very large area of skin that was raw, bleeding and open to infection if not allowed to heal, so I went home with the plan of going back in 2 weeks and getting it finished. That evening, my ex was pissed at me for being gone for a few hours. It was a stressful scene at the house, and I had taken my bandage off to show him what I had been doing,(he always hated my bear paw and wanted it gone), and while it was uncovered, Stevie, who was 10 months old), grabbed my tattoo with her grubby, poopy hand. By the next morning I had the tell-tale lines of blood poisoning already down to below my elbow and I had a fever of 103. I ended up having to have an iv of antibiotics and the tat had to be scrubbed and debrided like a burn. I was not allowed to go back to get it finished and the scarring is a reminder that sometimes fuck ups cannot be fixed easily, though I am planning on seeing what it will take to get it the rest of the way filled in, now that I am now in control of things. My motto is on my back. I wrote it and I designed it, and the fact that it is in Latin is significant because I love Latin, and my High School guidance counselor told me I was not smart enough to take Latin in high school, so I took it in college, and that is where I wrote my own motto, as a testament to my family heritage and my love of my children. Its ," Ex Animos Venio, Propter Amore Audeo" or "From Courage I Come, For Love I Dare" and it honors the tough as nails, refuse to give up and die, Scot/Irish/Native ancestors who always seemed to end up in the thick of battle with none of the glory, but are the ones that made this country strong.

My other tattoo is a screwed up mess that was started but not finished on my back, of bear paws working their way up my spine, and is a testament to the ability of my ex to raise my blood pressure to points that scare people. Its also one on my "fix" list. But my next, new tattoo is going to be the most light hearted and fun one, and though all my tats are on my upper body, the kids are advocating for me to either put this one on my lower back just above my butt, or on my leg, though I was thinking of putting it on my left forearm or even my right chest.I have to find an artist I can trust though, I didnt have very good luck in Flagstaff because the last guy seemed incapable of grasping what I really wanted, and tattoos are not something that I go into with the thought that they could get removed, I go into mine for life and they are not flash, they are keepers for life that are a part of me that I control and they cover up and incorporat the marks that others have left, in more ways than one.