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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.