Sunday, March 23, 2014

Choices......I Don't Always Make The Best.....


I really never have. I live a messy life. A lot of people do, I suspect.

The thing people seem to take issue with is my willingness to talk about it. To put it out there to be judged.

The Former Supposed Spouse told me yesterday that I am just like She-Who-Will-Remain-Nameless. That this is the third time I've picked up one of her used-to-be's. He said it just for the sting he thought it would inflict. What he doesn't know is that I have long suspected I am more like her than I care to even think about, let alone admit. He and I have been through hell and back and hell again over the last 10 years. I know that he loves me and I love him.....I am certain of this because the level of hatred we can dish out to each other can only come from having been passionately in love.......but the fucked up shit that we've done to each other has got to come to an end. We're both guilty of it. And it's enough already. Way WAY more than enough already.

I'm a little twisty. Someone did that to me. But I'm the idiot that let him. In spite of all the many warning flags I had. Lots of people tried to warn me and I ignored them all. Good things ...... precious things.....came out of that relationship, but there's still some evil that lurks in the deepest corners of my psyche and sometimes it comes out sideways. Don't misunderstand me.....I'm perfectly comfortable with the twisty remnants that remain. It's just that maybe putting it out to the general public is like inviting the monsters in. I have enough "monsters" to deal with. I damn sure don't need any more.

I made a choice to go public with all my shit. Maybe, in hindsight, that wasn't such a good idea. Going forward, the only things I will be linking to my personal Facebook page are things that I wouldn't mind my mother or my auntie reading about. The point of the exercise in the first place was to exercise the demons not to feed them. And that's kinda what has begun to happen.

And if the Twisted Biscuit really needs on outlet, I will find her one elsewhere.

Saturday, March 22, 2014

When Excrement Strikes The Rotary Oscillator......DUCK!

I didn't. I picked up a big ol' handful and threw it as hard as I could.

And, amazingly enough, most of it came back and hit me dead in the face.

No worries. It washes off. And I will be fine. Eventually.

And Super D has a new nickname.....Super DICKHEAD!!

I broke the Former Supposed Spouse's heart yesterday. And the evil vindictive bitch in me says Good. You deserve it you shit head! Maybe now you have some small inkling of how I have felt all these years, all these extended absences. Maybe now you will finally "get it." But, the part of me that loves him still (and probably always will, a little) feels horrible.

I made a choice. A calculated decision to be with a very specific person. And that decision will have fallout beyond it's effect on the Former Supposed Spouse. Not just for me, but perhaps for Super Dickhead as well. And yes, I am WELL AWARE, friend who pointed this out to me, he is someone who could bring a truckload of trouble my way. That sits in the back of my mind and ...... well, scares me a little. .

And, so, holy buckets batman, some SHIT hit the fan yesterday. I put on my big girl panties and fessed up to what I had done. When confronted about it, according to The Former Supposed Spouse,  Super Dickhead denied everything. And, although I don't know exactly what he said about me - the Former Supposed Spouse wouldn't tell me - it was, apparently, decidedly NOT flattering. And if that's how he really feels, then that's fine. It's his loss. There's something wrong with HIM, NOT me. And while I may not be everyone's cup of tea, I'm someone's double shot of Crown. Or Tequila. Or Beam. Or Captain. Or whatever.

To be absoLUTEly fair, I am only working with one side of the story here. And, giving it second thought, it's probably not AS bad as The Former Supposed Spouse would have me believe. Perhaps Super Dickhead is a TINY bit harsh given my limited knowledge. And I have some ownership in this, too. I've got an evil streak. I admit it. And if it's worth anything, Super D, I'm sorry. So NOT fabulous to use people and that's what I did.

I also suspect I had a Dumb Bitch moment and actually started to believe the line of apparent bullshit I was being fed. Not the first time that's happened. Pretty sure it won't be the last. Because every girl (and especially this one) - no matter how strong or tough or brave she tries to be - just wants that feeling - "nice and warm and naked and sleepy and good"........."xoxoxoxoxo"........"sweet dreams"........ "good morning"......."I'm glad you picked me..."

"The biggest coward is a man who awakens a woman's love with no intention of loving her."

He probably isn't all that glad anymore. And that makes me sad. Can't honestly say I blame him though.

And yes, other "friends" of the Former Supposed Spouse..... There's a LOT of SHIT floating around on the Internet about me and my escapades. I put it there. That was another conscious decision....to live my life out loud. Secrets and lies and rumors have tripped me up in the past. So this time around? No secrets. People are gonna talk. They always do. And if they're gonna talk about me, they may as well have their facts straight.

Friday, March 21, 2014

A Letter To My Mother.......I Worry Her So...

So......my mother discovered my blog......all of it. And was less than impressed.....

She worries about me anyway and I suspect that NOW she thinks I am certifiably insane. And I might be. And I'm kind of a little worried about myself...

But here's what I know.....to the deepest, darkest, twistiest corner of my soul....

  1. This is TEMPORARY insanity.
  2. Writing about the shit storm my life has become in recent weeks is cheap therapy. Writing forces me to look at it, sort it out, and formulate some sort of plan to fix what needs fixing and leave the rest behind.
  3. Admittedly, broadcasting my sexual preferences wasn't necessarily a wise idea. But, it's part of who I am and I refuse to be ashamed of it. I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. And there's not a damn thing wrong with it.
  4. I made the choices that got me here. I KNOW that. Everything I'm trying to dig myself out from under is a direct result of the choices I made. They SUCKED. But all I can do now is do better going forward. Looking back, if I'm completely honest, I HAVE to say I should have known better.

And Mom? I know you say it's your job to worry. Because you're my mom. Even though I tell you not to. I have no doubt - even on my very worst day (which, today is one of those days) - that I will get through this shit storm and that I will be OK.

Ok?


Mom:

I'm sorry I blew up at you. I'm just frustrated because it seems like the harder I try to pick up the pieces and get my life back together a little bit, 10 other things come out of the woodwork and it ends up being a gigantic SHIT STORM!! I can't win for losing and I'm so tired of it! Is it really any wonder I don't ever want to get out of bed?? Every time I do, something else comes flying out of left field and smacks me upside the head and knocks me down again.


And as far as getting a job?? I would go to work tomorrow if anyone would fucking hire me!! The guy from the hardware store finally called but what had sounded before like it would be all days, has turned into all closing shifts (until 7) and every Saturday from here to forever. So I'm right back to my original dillemma....what the hell am I gonna to with my kids?? They can't be home by themselves for four hours. It might have worked when L was here, but now that he's living with T, I don't see it happening. And I don't feel like you really want to be over here every day to feed them dinner and give up every single Saturday. So, I don't know what to do. I'm gonna go talk to Brian again because even at part time, the hours at Rod's work better for me and while I might have to work a Saturday or Sunday here or there, for the most part it would be Monday - Friday 10:30 to 3. which wouldn't be a problem until summer, and then they could go to the boys & girls club anyway.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO!! I FEEL LIKE I'M TRYING SO HARD TO KEEP MY FAMILY TOGETHER AND I'M JUST FUCKING SPINNING MY WHEELS.

And I know there's some crazy shit that I've put out there. It's therapy. I have all that shit rolling around in my head and when i write about it and put it out there for the universe to see or laugh at or cry with or get pissed off about....I don't know how to explain it......writing about it gets it out of my head and makes me feel better. It makes me feel less alone because someone else inevitably has been through the same thing. And knowing I'm not alone is kinda important these days because I'm feeling like I'm never gonna have a good life again. I get that it's not the kind of thing that lets a mother rest easy at night. And I'm sorry about that. My life is messy. Some of it is downright ugly. But at least I'm not out there like The Former Supposed Spouse was, spending whole paychecks on pills and booze. I'm here. At Home. Feeding my kids everyday and trying to make sure they have NO DOUBT that they are loved, and treasured, and safe.

And I cannot begin to express to you how monumentally and unbelievably grateful I am that you are here and able and willing to help me. I also cannot tell you how monumentally ashamed I feel that I'm not fully able to take care of myself right now. I feel like such a failure because this is NOT how I wanted my life to turn out. But I made the choices that I did, and I have to live with them. I'm doing my damnedest to make better choices now. I feel like I'm such a disappointment to you and to dad and I absolutely HATE IT!! There are days when I think that maybe everyone would be better off without me around. The Kid could go back to his mother, B-Man could go live with his dad and maybe having to take care of Bug all by himself would finally be the motivation The Former Supposed Spouse would need to stay clean and sober. And PLEASE GOD don't misunderstand - I'm NOT saying that I want to die - I just want to run away somewhere and hide from everything and every one. And if things don't start to look up a little bit, I'm not gonna have a choice because all this CRAP is gonna break me and I'll end up locked up in the behavioral health ward of the hospital.

I love you. I know that I worry you beyond belief. I'm scared too. Just please don't give up on me now.

L

Thursday, March 20, 2014

The Trouble With Trouble......

I have this tendency to get myself in trouble. (If you can believe it, I say and do wildly inappropriate things sometimes. I know, hard to imagine, right?!)

And there could be trouble brewing.

And the trouble with trouble is it starts out fun.

Older doesn't bother me. In fact, I prefer it. Always have.


I wonder whose dreams I'm awake in tonight???

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Idiots Gone Wild and the Occasional Moment of Clarity

I'm one of those people believe to the depth of my being that everything....and I mean everything...happens for a reason. It's not always clear at the time what the reason might be, but there always is one. And the moment of clarity comes when something else happens that makes you go, "Oh yeah! That's why that happened." It doesn't matter what you call it...Fate, Chance, Luck, Karma....I myself choose to believe that it's God working tiny miracles in my life....a myriad of tiny, seemingly insignificant decisions we make direct our path every single day.

Here's one example that sticks out in my mind.....

One Fourth of July, my boyfriend and I were headed back into town from Beaver Creek, on our way home to Inverness. As we got to the top of the hill, right at the curve before you start dropping back down into town, the last of the fireworks were just going off at the fairgrounds. It was a beautiful sight and I remember thinking how tiny they looked from all the way out there. We had slowed down a bit to enjoy the show for a few extra moments. As we rolled through town, we stopped at Taco John's to get a bite to eat and then headed out for home. There was some discussion as to whether or not we were going to.....I wanted to, The Old Hippie did not. But, because he loved me, and could never resist my pouty face, he stopped anyway. Just as we were about to pull back out onto the street, the ambulance came screaming by.

As we headed out of town towards home, just past the golf course, we came upon the remains of a horrific accident. The Highway Patrol was still on the scene as well as about 500 Sheriff's officers and various rescue vehicles. The ambulance had already left and the officers were working on clearing the scene of the wreckage. I don't remember seeing the motorcycle, but I saw the vehicle that had hit them.

My heart stopped in my chest at that moment because it occurred to me - with profound clarity - that had we not stopped at TJ's, had we not lingered on the little highway watching the fireworks, WE would have been the other vehicle - or yet another vehicle - involved in the crash.

Two people died that night. Two people The Hippie and I knew. Two people who were good friends of the Former Supposed Spouse. Two people who were and still are loved and missed.

I had another one of those moments of clarity tonight. I tired to call our land line phone to have the dudes come down and get the empty laundry baskets, take them upstairs, and gather up their dirty laundry so The Kid could have a clean pair of pants for tomorrow. (The Kid has issues with keeping track of clothes, but that's a story for another day.)

I got a busy signal. So, figuring The Kid or one of my Little Dudes were on the phone, I clicked in on my receiver downstairs. Before I could say anything, I got an earful of THE MOST UNBELIEVABLE bullshit I have yet had to deal with.

I cannot yet give the details on the conversation going on between The Kid and Klonipin Mom, but the effects of having overheard this snippet could be devastating. And I can't explain why I picked up the phone instead of simply waiting until I was able to get through, except that it was God telling me there's more going on here than you know. Pay Attention or it's gonna end up biting YOU in the ass, my curly haired little friend!

***GREAT BIG SIGH***

And more than a few tears. I keep thinking that there HAS TO BE a limit to the sheer stupidity of this woman. I keep banging my head against a giant wall of it, and all I'm getting is a lump on my forehead. So, maybe the wrecking ball just needs to come swinging though and knock all those idiots down.

It might just be for the better anyway.

Prayers for us all, gentle readers. We DAMN sure need 'em.



Tuesday, March 18, 2014

I'm Chronic......And No, It's Not About Weed



So, I've covered to death the Not Always Sober part.

And I think we all can agree at this point that I'm pretty fuckin' fabulous.

So, let's talk about the chronic part.

My "official" diagnosis is Fibromyalgia with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and a healthy dose of clinical depression and a sprinkle of Generalized Anxiety Disorder just for shits and giggles. Just your average every day Crazy Bitch. (Don't worry, the meds seem to be working quite well.....)

Doesn't sound too awfully terrible, right?? Some aches, some pains, I sleep a lot, cry a lot and I get a little nervous about stupid shit now and again. It's not gonna kill me any time soon. The treatment for it doesn't have a bunch of horrible side-effects. In fact there really isn't much "treatment" for it.

According to The Mayo Clinic, fibromyalgia is:

"...a disorder characterized by widespread musculoskeletal pain accompanied by fatigue, sleep, memory and mood issues. Researchers believe that fibromyalgia amplifies painful sensations by affecting the way your brain processes pain signals."                                              (http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/fibromyalgia/basics/definition/con-2001924

Which means, in regular people speak, my brain is always telling me that every one of my muscles and joints hurts all the time, but said brain is LYING. Constant pain wears a person down, makes you tired. Makes it so you can't sleep because you can't find a comfortable way to lay that doesn't make one part or the other hurt even worse. So, you become sleep deprived. And that can make you downright psychotic.

Most days, I can deal. I have a fantastic selection of medications with which to work and as long as I take them faithfully, it's.....sort of manageable.  Dr. Really Cool tells me I'm his guinea pig....every time a new medication comes out that shows promise in clinicals for treating Fibro, he's all over it. I am something of a challenge because if a drug has a crazy side effect, chances are, I will have it. We've tried Lyrica. We've tried steroids. We've tried gabapentin. We've tried constant, low-dose antibiotics. We've tried straight-up narcotic pain pills. And muscle relaxers. And sleeping pills. And anti-depressants. And vitamins. And herbs. And we've been working at this for a little over......six years now? Much of that time has been spent in various states of zombie-ness, nauseousness, and well, just present but not necessarily accounted for-ness.

Now, I take Savella. It's classed as an SSRI Anti-Depressant because the way it works is similar to other anti-depressants. It works on the neurotransmitters that carry the "lies" from my brain to my muscles. And most days, it works very well with a minimum of side effects and I can function more or less like a normal human.

"Non-traditional" therapies work well too.......massage, when I can stand to be touched....works wonders. Physical contact skin to skin with heat and oil.....what's not to love about that? Sex works too. All those endorphins that get released allow the pleasure signals to finally override the pain signals for a while. The better the sex, the longer the override. (kinda explains some things about a certain someone, yes? Yes.) Soaking in a hot tub, some gentle stretching, laying in the sun (when the weather permits), swimming.......

But there are days......like yesterday when it was all cold and damp and yucky.....that just nothing works. Those days, all I can do is go back to bed and crank up the heated mattress pad and wait for the day to be over.

And sometimes, the next day is better.

And sometimes, it's not.

And my days of having the luxury of going back to bed are numbered as I will very soon be going back to work. Dr. Really Cool says I'm disabled, but, the Social Security Administration - since I still have some really good days every once in a while - does not agree. So, fuck 'em. Doesn't figure that living on a government handout will improve my outlook on life anyway.

And I'm a little scared because I've been out of the workforce for a while now. And I remember how hard it was right before I finally took a medical leave from my job, to work full time and be a single mom full time and be chronically ill and have no one believe you.

So, I know it's gonna be hard.......no, actually, it's going to be a mutha fuckin' bitch....but I'm ready.

So bring it!

Monday, March 17, 2014

Things I Wish For.......

It's late. I can't sleep and so my mind wanders.....

I wish - OH how I wish - that blogger would tell me WHO and not just how many.....

I wish I was thinner....even though I am perfectly OK with my curves and totally confident that there are men out there (Mr. Minnesota, Drunk Dialer/Tractor Boy, Super D, the Former Supposed Spouse, The Third Party [haven't told y'all about him yet], and apparently now Mr. Felson) who appreciate the fact that even though I am a bigger girl, I am very well proportioned and have a "fantastic ass."

I wish I had the guts to just out right tell the Former Supposed Spouse about Super D. I don't care that he knows I'm sleeping with someone else....it's the WHO that hangs me up. They've been friends a lot longer than we've been sleeping together. Even though that was the point of the exercise in the first fucking place. You see now, why I don't sleep?? So, I hang on to the shirt he left here that kinda still smells like him, and kinda now smells like me and......wait. And not very patiently, I might add.

I wish I was braver. I would chat with Him more often. I would flirt some. Every other chat conversation with everyone else eventually goes there....but I can't bring myself to go there with Him. Nor can I seem to give Him a nickname. Anything I can think of would be a dead giveaway and we can't be having that. And there He is again. Mobile. Green light. And closer in proximity with every minute that goes by.

I wish I could ask - a little less self-consciously - for the things I want to do.....well, have done to me, more precisely, because this....


And this...

 And this....


And this too.....



Are exactly the kind of......


..........that I like. That I think MANY more women would like to try (because if not, why the HELL is 50 Shades of Grey such a PHENOMENAL hit??) and just are too afraid to admit it. Or, too mortified to ask for it.

I like to be subdued. Not necessarily with hard restraints (your hands will do). Probably because I have to be IN CHARGE of everything else in my life, in the bedroom, I wish to be subdued. To surrender. To submit to someone else's will. Not with everyone (this type of thing requires an ENORMOUS amount of trust....that's kinda the point) and not every time.

Because this....


This is pretty damn fine, too.

.......


........


..........

I wish, and I hope, and I wait, and I worry, and I want, and I need, and I lust.......(hmmmm....that last bit sounds kinda familiar....)

But what I DON'T do is fucking sleep!!

Edit, Edit, EDIT.....And Strange Childhood Memories...

Sometimes, when you write about people who actually exist in the real world, you have to clarify.

The guy that I mentioned in the last post...Mr. Felson? Yeah. I would like to clarify that I don't think he peed on the little girl on purpose. We were like 5 years old - I think he just had to pee and she happened to be in the way. It happens. Having raised three boys, I get it. Certainly nothing to keep you up nights, Mr. Felson.

I also remember being so mad because the boys (Mr. Felson and a kid named Smokey) got to go chasing fireworks into the tall grass across the street (because at the time, that's all that WAS across the street) and us girls had to stay in the yard and just watch. Didn't even get to light any off, dammit!

Hmmmmm.....I guess you could say that my general irritation with those that have penises started at a very early age! Go figure!

I Wanted to Be All.....Aw, F*** It....It's Just That Kind Of Day

I wanted to be all ...... I don't know .... profound and shit today..

But, it's Monday. It's snow-thundering. It's cold and gloomy and rain/snowy.

I didn't get the corned beef in the crock pot as soon as I wanted to so it's gonna be a late dinner. Which means the littles will get to bed later, which means I get to bed later. Which probably means tomorrow is going to be more of the same.....

I'm cranky.

I'm achy.

I'm lonely.

I'm ridiculously starved for physical contact (that's a nice way of saying I'm so effing horny I can't stand myself).

I haven't heard from Super D in a whole day.....and I know I won't today because, well, it's Butte. And it's St. Patrick's Day. And the fact that this is bothering me at ALL pisses me off more than you can POSSIBLY imagine. Truth is I worry too much. About crazy shit. I used to do it all the time with the Former Supposed Spouse. I don't worry about him now because I KNOW where he's at. And now I'm doing the same shit with Super D. It's not completely unfounded.....there's a reason he doesn't live there anymore. FUCK ME!! THURSDAY CAN'T COME FAST ENOUGH! And, Super D, if you happen to have stumbled across my little collection of tirades, could ya take a minute and send me a text? Better yet, call me and talk dirty to me!

Don't get me wrong.....it's been an interesting couple days.....lots of chatting going on with some interesting characters. One guy I've known since I was 5 and lived in a trailer just up the street from where I live now. The one clear memory I have is of him is peeing all over the neighbor girl. Haven't come up with a nick-name for him just yet.....Mr. Felson maybe?? Y'all will have to do some research on that one...

And, to top it ALL off......I posted a bunch of VERY naughty pictures to my personal Facebook page, thinking I was posting them to my alter ego's Facebook page.......really not cool. As I have mentioned, I have a dark and twisty side that is deliciously kinda all 50 Shades of fucked-up-ness, the EXACT nature of which I don't reveal to the general public (my 83-year-old auntie doesn't need to know that shit!).....

Except TODAY!! I have no idea how long they were up or how many people saw them, but I'm thinking there are LOTS of people probably know more about me than they really wanted to!

Happy Freakin' MONDAY!


Friday, March 14, 2014

Follow Up Note On the Alleged Special Needs.......

Maybe, just, maybe......The Principal and I are getting closer to being on the same page. I had intended to call him today to check and see how The Kid's last couple days had gone after the big Come-To-Jesus meeting we had on Wednesday.

Before I got the chance, he called to let me know that Thursday's in-school suspension went very well and that today was good for the most part, only one little speed-bump. There was a substitute teacher in The Kid's classroom today and of course that means - for EVERY kid, not just mine - that he can get away with maybe just a little bit more......

Well, of course, The Kid pushed the envelope just a little too far and was being "disrespectful" to another student. But, rather than come down on him like a ton of bricks - like usual - The Principal tried Something Different. Something a little more in line with the kinds of things they did with The Kid at the Group Home.

AND IT WORKED!! There was a little resistance, but with some gentle persistence, The Kid decided on his own to go where he was supposed to.

Thank you, Mr. Principal. I so appreciate the extra effort!!

Thursday, March 13, 2014

Alleged Special Needs, Acronyms, and Psychotropic Medications.....

Most of you know by now, but in case you just joined the party, I have a kid I'm raising that doesn't belong to me. I was in a "domestic partnership" with his dad, the Former Supposed Spouse, who was the custodial parent of The Kid and, in the FSS's absence, I was named as his Legal Guardian. So now that the Former Supposed Spouse is incarcerated, I'm in charge.

It's a long and winding tale as to how he ended up in our house. I'll try to keep it in a straight line, but no promises.

The last time the Former Supposed Spouse was incarcerated, The Kid and his Big Sister were removed from their mother's (I'll call her Klonipin Mom) care because she was failing to meet their basic needs. I saw the pictures of the house they were living in. "Mess" doesn't even begin to cover it. The Kid didn't even have a room of his own to sleep in. He was sleeping on the sofa in a living room where every available surface was covered with pop cans in various stages of emptiness and paper plates with food in various stages of decomposition and trash and dirty clothes and cat poop covering every inch of floor. Imagine an episode of Hoarding: Buried Alive and you get the picture.

So, Child and Family Services swooped in and removed both The Kid and Big Sister from Klonipin Mom's care. And placed them with the Former Supposed Spouse's mother. Who is 70 something and has a truckload of health problems herself. Well, this lasted, predictably, about three weeks (and I'm surprised it was that long) before The Kid and Big Sister were "running amok" and "stealing things" and Klonipin Mom was sitting over at Grandma's from the time they got out of school until the time they went to bed and not doing a damn thing. Not interacting with them, not disciplining them when they smarted off to Grandma. Eventually, Grandma called CFS because she had had enough. The Kid threw a toy at the caseworker and that earned him a trip to Shodair.

And, the doctors at Shodair diagnosed him with a truckload of acronyms.....ADHD, ODD, OCD, GAD....I think that's all of them but I'd have to read his chart again to be sure. And, also predictably, prescribed him a truckload of medications. From Shodair, he was shipped off to Missoula and spent a year in a therapeutic group home. THESE people are freakin' AWESOME!! The kid that came home to us from Missoula was completely 180 degrees from the one that went down there. They did keep all the acronyms, but they changed and reduced and experimented with his meds and found a "minimum therapeutic level" that worked for him. I don't agree - the amount of medication he was taking when he first came back was crazy and he was falling asleep in school and nodding out at dinner. So, we stopped some and reduced another and NOW we're doing okay. Still sometimes hard to get him up in the morning, but what kid isn't?!

Anyway, here's the thing.....I have a Bachelor of Science in Biology so I'm not what you'd call an expert in child psychology, but I can tell you the basic gist of what's up with The Kid and not use a single acronym.

He's PISSED. He got dealt a crap hand for biological parents. He's got a dad that has been absent half his young life and a mother who is SO over-medicated and self-medicated she can't meet her BASIC needs let alone his - and I hate the term - special needs. And he's extraordinarily worried about her because of it. He's mad as hell because his dad made all these pretty promises to him and then proceeded to break every last one of them. And I don't blame him one little tiny bit because he made all the same promises to all of us and we're ALL pretty pissed.

And we ALL have a bad day every now and then. Sometimes, two in a row. But we have WAY MORE good days than bad. And I think if everyone at his school would just relax, back off, and give The Kid some breathing room and maybe NOT make every little infraction into a Federal case, we might just even more good days than bad.

We might, just MIGHT, be OK after all.

Yesterday's Crap Fest.......

I don't even know where to begin on the crap fest that yesterday was......

At the top of the list, sometimes, it really fucking sucks to have girl parts. They have tried to kill me on more than one occasion. Today I'm fairly certain their intention was simply to torture me, but at one point I was wishing it could just be over already....

Next.....Probation and Parole.....as I posted on Facebook earlier, can just take a giant bite out of my considerable but very nicely proportioned lily white ass!! And I'm told it wasn't just MY house they decided to fuck with today. Why the hell can't you just leave people the hell alone?? It's not like my kid is out raising hell all the damn time. Just leave him be and let him do his time.

Next.....my other not-my-kid-but-love-him-just-as-much's fucking school. This is twice now that the principal and the Alta-Care woman have made me feel like I'm backed into a corner. The first time, they literally had me cornered by the front door backed up against a file cabinet and a wall wanting to talk to me about some little bullshit incident in front of God and everybody - students, parents, other teachers...school was just letting out so by all means lets have this conversation about my kid's behavior right out in the open where anybody and their brother can over hear it. Today, they actually shut us all in a very small room and wanted me to.......well I'm not sure exactly what they wanted me to do. Listen to them tell me how disruptive The Kid was yesterday and how defiant he was being. Over a freakin' key for his bike lock that he wouldn't give up. I was able to get The Kid to talk about what happened and turns out, some other punk ass little shit had started a problem, lied to the student teacher about it, and when The Kid tried to tell his side of the story, the student teacher didn't believe him and sent him to talk to the actual teacher. (This is called being disrespectful.) By this time, The Kid is flustered and upset and when he gets that way, he starts to shut down. He couldn't quite get his story out and so his frustration got worse until he just wasn't gonna do nothing (This is what is called defiance). But Jesus, Mary and Joseph!! Can we maybe overreact JUST a little less?? Maybe?

He's 10. His dad is a piece of shit who has let him down YET AGAIN by relapsing and getting arrested YET AGAIN. Child Protective Services is making him live with me and I like to think I'm a pretty okay person and a half-way decent parent - but I am so NOT his mother, with whom the sun rises and sets for him. He's a little pissed off at the world right now. I totally get it and don't blame him one little bit. The fact that he's ONLY had a couple of bad days is what surprises me. I love The Kid like he was my own and he is a GREAT. KID. He's just wired a little differently. Could we maybe find a way to celebrate that instead of shutting him down all the time?? Maybe? PLEASE??!!

Next......one of the Former Supposed Spouse's buddies landed in the hospital this week with congestive heart failure.........and in his disclosure to his doctor, some crazy shit came out.....more secrets and lies and half-truths that the Former Supposed Spouse had kept from me. Every time I turn around it seems like something else comes crawling out from under his rather sizable rock and I'm left to clean up the mess. This is the last mess. And I'm only cleaning this one up because it's in my best interest to do so because I have stuff that needs a home. But after this, I'm done. The OTHER rather large sum of money that HE owes to yet another individual is his problem. And the guy he owes it to can join the LONG list of people who can kiss my ass.

Finally, Super D is gone for a week. He stayed last night and gave me lots and lots and lots of kisses and cuddles......but I miss him already and it's gonna be a long week. I sent him a text right after he left and told him so. His reply was "xoxoxoxoxox."  I told him, "You know you're going to get absolutely mauled when you get back, don't you?" He replies, "I'm looking forward to it." See what I mean?? Everything right.

And, I'm a little jealous, I gotta say, because HE gets to spend St. Patrick's Day in one of the best places on the planet to spend St. Patrick's Day.

Here's hoping today goes just a little bit better. And that this week goes by Super Fast!

Friday, March 7, 2014

Just a Little Clarification......

Some people have mentioned they are somewhat confused about some of my "characters" identities, so let me just clear it up a bit......

"Super D" from this post:

Super D The Snuggle Bug

Is the SAME guy as the "Grudge F*** Expert" from this post:

Grudges, Ghosts, And Really Angry.......Stuff, Part 2

Just in case anyone else was confused.

My Mother Has Alzheimer's........When She Can Remember She Has Alzheimer's




Before I even get started on this, I love my mother very much. Some people might hear this diagnosis and wring their hands or lock themselves in the house and wait to die. My Moms and I choose to laugh. Because sometimes, if you DON'T laugh, you'll just go flying full speed off the deep end. Please get that I am NOT making fun of my mother.



At least once, more often than not, twice, Moms will call me and tell me what her persnickety cat is doing. The cat, Mama Cat, does what cats do.....lay around, eat, use the litter box, and complain. Loudly. When i was growing up, we had a dog, Tigger, who was a toy poodle. He survived being clipped by a motor home on the way back from Kalispell and live to be the ripe old age of 14 before he died. After Tigger, we inherited a cat, Miss Bailey, from the family farm when my Uncle Oliver finally retired. We had her, I think, for 5 years before she got sick and had to be put to sleep. After Miss Bailey left us, my Dad put his foot down - no more pets.

Mama Cat came to be in her care when the Former Supposed Spouse's first ex-wife lost her house and had to move into low income housing where no pets were allowed. We already had a cat and a dog in our house and even though our cat, Reverse, is Mama Cat's baby, there was no way in hell those two were gonna occupy the same space. So, one day, I went and bought all the supplies - cat box, kitty litter, food, toys - and brought Mama Cat over to Moms.



And you would think I had given her the moon!! Since Dad passed last year, she had been rattling around in that house all by herself being all mopey and sad and boo hooey. Mama Cat provides another heart beat in the house....another life for Moms to take care of. And, if I'm anything like my mother, someone to talk to besides herself. Every other picture she posts to her Facebook page is of Mama Cat - in her lap, in the chair, in the cat condo.....I hope Mama Cat lives to be 150 because if we lost her now, Moms will be devastated.

I mentioned earlier that Mom's calls me, usually at least twice a day, to tell me something that Mama Cat is doing. In addition to that, she calls a couple times to ask me questions about various things. Things that, generally, she has already asked me about. Or, she will call because she has something of momentous importance to ask me, but as soon as I pick up the phone, she forgets what it was she was going to ask.



At some point, probably soon, I'm going to have to have a conversation with her about driving. At the very least, she needs a smaller outfit. The 4Runner she is driving is a little big and the blind spots in the thing are terrible. So, as a result, there are some bumps and scrapes and dents. The day is coming, and way, WAY sooner than I'm ready for it, when she's gonna have to give up diving. This is not a conversation that I'm looking forward to.


And she worries about me. "Because that's my job." And I feel guilty because lately I seem to be giving her so much to worry about. Her dad was an alcoholic. And she relives that horror when I tell her about my Former Supposed Spouse, also an alcoholic. And I think maybe she suspects I may be an alcoholic. Hell, I had myself convinced of that a few years ago.


And I feel a whole truckload of guilty because I don't always have sufficient patience to deal. I get frustrated when I'm telling her something for the third time in the same conversation. Or when she is telling me the same story for the fifth time in two days. And I know that it hurts her when I snap at her. Dad was forever and always snapping at her for it and making her feel stupid instead of understanding that she is sick.

And one day in the not-too-distant future, it's gonna be like this.....


And there's NOTHING funny about that.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Didn't Have To After All.....

Remember this one? Me all filled with anxiety - to message, or not to message.

It's Tempting...But I Just Can't Do It

Yeah. Didn't have to.

.......

.......

Nope. Not gonna over-think it.

Logging off and going to bed.

Ok, so I'm going to bed. lol

.

Super D the Snuggle Bug.....

Short post today...this weather (and probably lack of sleep) is killing me.....


Super D didn't have to text me good morning today. I woke up with his arms wrapped around me, snuggled underneath a pile of blankets, nice and warm and naked and sleepy and good. And given the crappy weather we're having today, I would have been perfectly happy to stay that way all damn day.....

And I could get really used to that really damn quick. I have something of an addictive personality and when I find something I like.....

And since no one in my house cares what happens in my bedroom (in fact, they have been wondering what was taking so long).....

And, now that it's less about pissing off the Former Supposed Spouse and more about gettin' my groove back, I think I'll just enjoy it, and to hell with what the Shop Rats, or anyone else for that matter, think.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Conclusions About Lingerie......And One More Ghost

So......I've come to the conclusion the lingerie really only has one purpose. Maybe two, if you count that it's pretty and generally looks pretty hot on. The only other thing it's good for is having someone rip it off with their teeth at the end of the night!!

And why???

Because it's a big, giant, UNCOMFORTABLE pain in the ass!

I had somewhere to be tonight that required me to be dressed up....in an actual dress, which almost never happens. And dresses require hosiery of some sort, for starters, and for me - and maybe I'm just odd - but hosiery requires panties (which I generally detest). So, I'm digging through my top dresser drawer and I find one pair of black-ish tights. Considering the temperature, this seems like a good idea. Except that they had a gigantic run in them. Never mind. Moving on.

The next option was stockings. I found five of them. Three different ones and one pair. The one pair were perfect - lace at the top, the seam up the back, the whole shebang - except that they were not the stay-up kind, they required a garter. And, my garter was missing one of the clips.

And I'm already running late because in the midst of trying to pull an outfit together, I also have to get the boy to Cub Scouts, register all three boys for baseball, make a trip to Walmart for pantyhose, and, if I can get it all together, feed the other two children before I leave for my meeting.

Yeah. I'm not sure what they had for dinner, but they found something. Thank God they are old enough to throw something in the microwave. I don't even want to know what because I'm sure whatever it was was NOT the picture of solid nutrition.

Oh and one more thing about lingerie?? Spanx? You can pretty much kiss my ass because aside from shoving the girls together, up and out (it does make for a specTACular rack) you are THE single most uncomfortable article of clothing I have ever worn in my life!

And don't even get me started on heels!

AND......another one of those ghosts came rattling out of the attic today. The Bug Man finally heard that the Spouse is now the Former Supposed Spouse and no longer in residence with me. So of course that means he is free to swoop in and pick up where we left off........

Let me think about it.....yeah, no, I think, not. I'm not as thirsty as I used to be. Run along now. Find someone else's heart to play with.

Monday, March 3, 2014

Dark Places......The Places Where The Ghosts Live

I suppose you could say that I'm in kind of a dark place right now. I know people are concerned about me. And, yeah, I probably put a little too much personal information out there. Especially when my mother is reading about my shenanigans. She's my mother - it's her job to worry about me. Still......

I'm fine.....no, I'm not okay. I probably won't be for a while. But I will be.....not tomorrow, not next week, hell maybe even not next year, but I. Will. Be. Okay. And, if I need help, I do know how to ask for it.

And I haven't gone completely off the rails here. When the Former Supposed Spouse gets sent away, this is the predictable pattern. Nothing new under the sun.....it's just that this time, I'm all up out of my closet, so to speak. I'm not hiding.....sneaking around.....sneaking off to Lewistown with the Drunk Dialer. Who, by the way, always told me that no matter who he was wrapped up with at the time, would ALWAYS have room for me in his life. Because, just like me, he's a kinky little biscuit too. And even if he tells me no at first, he always....ALWAYS calls eventually. Maybe not this time. And that's okay too. But ya got my number, don't ya? And I always have bottle of Arbor Mist Blackberry Merlot in my fridge. And I may or may not have a little bottle of Captain stashed somewhere. And I do think your tractor's sexy. And this song kills me every time I hear it:

(I originally tried to embed it in the post, but it deleted it, so here's a linky instead....Kenny Chesney - Come Over):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1GfEl8XUc4&list=RDN1GfEl8XUc4&feature=share

 And Lewistown was just the tip of the iceberg. I once hauled my happy ass all the way to middle-of-nowhere Minnesota to get some, chasing after an old high school crush. And go to the Mayo Clinic, but mostly just to see the guy. And he was awesome. Earlier in the year, I'd found a lump. Benign, thank God. Doctors here took it out, sewed it shut, and a couple months later, it was all infected. So, more surgery. Same result. Doctor in Great Falls was willing to try again, but was really thinking that the breast had to come off.......

Da Fuck you talkin' bout Willis??

So, I made an appointment at the Mayo Clinic. And I got on a train the day after Thanksgiving and arrived in Staples at 4 a.m. the next morning. And when we finally got to his house (it was a ways from the train station to where he actually lived) he gave me a VERY warm welcome to the very COLD state of Minnesota. And he drove me from the middle of nowhere to Rochester and back. Twice. And let me stay at his house with some of the best people on the planet......(Ron, buddy....you are unforgettable. Next time I see you, we will have to drink some tequila together)....for two whole weeks. (This was WAY longer than planned because no one told me at the start of the great Mayo Clinic Adventure I would need more than one day actually at the Clinic.) And he waited while I was in surgery. And took care of me while I recovered and THEN drove me back to Staples to catch the train home in the middle of the night. And I love him for that. ALWAYS will.

So......if you see me out and about and appreciate the intact rack I'm still sporting, you have Mr. Minnesota to thank for it. He really is proud of that saving the breast thing.

It's true that you can't go back again. Especially when you're trying to start again, and then I go and do dumb things like letting the Former Supposed Spouse come home. Again and again and again. My other kid that's grown that lives in my house told me once it's not IF you leave him but WHEN.

And this is when.


PS - Mr. Minnesota reminded me that I "forgot about the god damn deer that had to give it's life to get you to the train." And he's absolutely right......running late anyway because I was giving him a going away present and we hit a deer on the way to Staples. In his sister's car. She was less than happy.

Sunday, March 2, 2014

And Then My Child Says.....

And, as I'm feeling all crappy and oh woe is me....

My child, my Bug, my baby says to me....."I love you, Mom!"

And that makes EVERYTHING so much better!

Undermedicated and Cranky....And In Dire Need of a Massage

Today has been an exceptionally long day.....

My escapades earlier in the weekend have taken their toll. The bottle flu left yesterday around midnight (finally) but it has been replaced by soreness in muscles I had forgotten I had. And no medication for to make it better. And, if I didn't have to be Holly Housekeeper that would be fine, but I can't lay around and be lazy all day because the dishes in the sink and the laundry in the laundry room (and already clean in baskets in the hallway) are mocking me. I couldn't lay down and take a nap if I wanted to because my bed is covered with clean clothes in various stages of readiness to be put away.

I've been chauffeuring kids (most of which are not mine, but are loosely related) around all day long. Here, then there, then here, then back....and it's way too effing cold for any living creature to be out there, And the cold just exacerbates the fibro symptoms and that just really sucks. I need a really nice, long, massage from someone with big strong hands.

Top everything else off with a phone call from the Former Supposed Spouse. "Send me this this this and this. And send me some snacks. And you may have to give My Other Ex a ride so she can send me some too."

..........there really HAS to BE a LIMIT to the ridiculousness......doesn't there? Yes, there does. And it starts with Fuck you AND your SNACKS!!

So, take some more ibuprofen, and keep trudging. Tuesday can't come fast enough!

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Grudges, Ghosts, and Really Angry....Stuff Part 2

So there's a side of me that is deliciously dark and twisty and kinda 50 Shades ....

And I've kinda always been that way from the first time a boy kissed me after the DeMolay party, to the first time a guy stuck his tongue down my throat at the drive in (thanks for teaching me that by the way...it is a skill that has served me well) and finally the first time I actually had sex (at 17 and LITERALLY with the boy next door).

I liked it. And I wanted more of it. And if there's a little pain with the pleasure, so much the better. And variety is the spice of life and men come in a delightful array of shapes and sizes. Some of those ghosts still haunt me. They even still come around once in a while...when they're not wrapped up with someone else or they're drunk and lonely in the middle of the night. The others float in and out of my consciousness from time to time.

There's one in particular that is gonna keep me up tonight, I just know it. About 1000 years ago we were neighbors. I was single (recently dumped by the aforementioned drunk dialer), he was not, but the relationship he was in at the time was a hot mess. She worked nights as a waitress. And the Spike still had a drive through window. We would take her to work, stop and get a bottle of Black Velvet (shudders....at least my taste in booze has improved over the years if not my taste in men), and drink all night. I can't be certain of it. Because honestly, I don't remember much from that time period. But given my attitude towards sex and lack of boundaries regarding relationships, it's a pretty safe bet that something happened. I don't know if he remembers and I'm to chicken to ask.

He's in recovery now and has been for many years. He's got a good life, and a good wife and, given recent events, I wonder if he knows that he and the first girl were on MY amends list?? I wonder if he'd want to know. He's gonna, cuz he reads me and bless his great big sober heart, is worried about me.

And grudges....there's a big fancy name for it and it's called resentment and it amounts to taking poison and expecting the other person to die. Where the Former Supposed Spouse is concerned, I'm dragging around a truckload of it! The first time the FSS was incarcerated, on the day he got out, we went to visit a friend of his before we headed for home. This person

That having been said, the grudge F*** can be a good thing. A very good thing. A really, very good thing. I found myself an expert in that. And I brought him home and I let him F*** the resentment right out of me. For hours and hours. As I mentioned in the earlier post, he will piss the Former Supposed Spouse off just about enough. And, people will talk because that's what people do. And that's fine. Let them. I've spent most of the last ten years living in the shadows thinking I'm getting away with all my shit when I wasn't. So, yeah. No more secrets.

And really angry sex is a really good thing!!

And I'm sure there are more than a few people out there who will call me a slut. Or a whore. Or whatever name they choose to attach to women like me (cuz I damn sure am not the only one). I might even call myself that.

Grudges, Ghosts, and Really Angry.......Stuff

To all my adoring fans who saw my Facebook posts last night (I think maybe I should start leaving my phone at home when I go out) I did promise an outstanding post today.....

I need a while to contemplate what, exactly, I want to say about it. (And a day or two to recover!!)

For now, I'm gonna say that 1) I'm no longer as angry as I was. The person who accomplished this feat shall remain nameless here (although, I'm sure some of y'all have figured it out.) But you my friend, are a ROCK STAR!! Thank you. You have NO IDEA how much I needed that.

And 2) I'm a little ashamed of myself because instead of taking the high road, I let my anger cloud my judgement. I let my hurt dictate my selection because I know it will piss off the Former Supposed Spouse just about enough. And right now, that's just fine with me.....he deserves to hurt and to be pissed.

And it doesn't stop me from wanting more really angry.....stuff.