Tap Dancing

There’s a meme going around blogtasia called 5 things, which I guess is supposed to be a Friday thing, but here in Gingerland, it’s going to be a Wednesday thing. I saw it at Glamorous Life of a Housefrau and also at Smiling Through It All, and the way it works is that you leave a comment on the blog in question (which would be here, duh) asking to play along, then you’re given five words and you describe what they mean to you or your thoughts about the words. I’m pretty sure that’s the way it goes. These are the words Evil Twin’s Wife picked out for me:

Frolic – This makes me think of playfulness, whether it’s small woodland creatures frolicking in a field, or nekkid folks frolicking in bed.  Frolicking is good fun, no matter where you are.  Let’s go outside and frolic!

Salacious – Hee, hee.  Of course, this makes me think of sex.  Mostly, it brings to mind words like “leering” and “lust,” and visions of a fallen woman  and maybe her lecherous pimp (perhaps his name is Sweets) standing on a street at dawn.  Good times.

Lantern – When I think lantern, I think about those green Coleman lanterns people use for camping. They hum softly as they give off 10 bajillion watts of light.

Train – The word train invokes long, narrow tracks, hats (because glamorous ladies who rode trains back in the day wore hats, at least in photos), luggage, and trips.  And hobos carrying sticks with all their worldly possessions wrapped up in handkerchiefs.

Magic – As soon as I read this, the song “Magic Man” popped in my head.  Oooooooooooh, he’s a magic man.  Chew on that.

So there you go, my five words.  If you would like to play along, just let me know in the comments section and I’ll email you your 5 words.

I told y’all I’m mentoring again this semester, right?  It’s for the Educational Psychology class that all education majors at our university have to take.  It’s the most demanding class I’ve ever taken, and that’s where the peer mentors come in.  Each student enrolled in the class is assigned to a mentor group, which has 2 mentors and a group of students (usually 3-10).  The groups meet once a week and take a quiz, talk about the chapter for the week, and play jeopardy-like games to prepare for the week’s test.  The mentors are all volunteers who take the time to help other students for a few reasons:  a) out of the goodness of their hearts, b) to gain experience leading a class, and c) to get a good recommendation from perhaps the most prolific professors in the area upon graduation.

This is my second semester as a mentor, and I like it for the most part.  It does take up valuable time, but I feel like I’m doing some good for other students – enough to balance it out, at least.  I got a call from the co-mentor of our group this afternoon, and she’s decided she just doesn’t have the time to be a mentor.  Sooooooo, I’ll be responsible for 7 students on my own from here on out.  I’ll be responsible for administering 7 quizzes, checking 7 journals, leading discussion, and recording all grades.  Lord help me.  If I can pull it off, it’ll be good experience and show the professor that I can handle extra responsibility on my own.  I’m gonna be fine.

I need a hug.

Totally Music Tuesday

I’ve been getting tons and tons of new music from friends lately, and this is one of the bands I’ve been introduced to recently. The band is Stars, and this one is called Your Ex-Lover Is Dead. A friend gave me the entire album, and it covers a relationship from beginning to end – it’s pretty great, in my humble opinion.

Hope y’all are having a great Tuesday.

Brand New Day

This weekend couldn’t have been any more different from last weekend, praise Allah!

Saturday was my lucky day or something.  I woke up, got my paper written and edited, and was done with school work by 1.  Then, my mom texted asking what I was doing.  Uh oh.  Not to worry, though, she told me that Old Navy was having a huge sale and asked if I’d like to come look around with her.  Then it happened – she offered to buy me some clothes!  I mean, WHAAAA?  She was being nice?  So, I picked out a few things, and we went home.  It was nice - if a little forced- but you’ve gotta start somewhere, right?

Then, when I came home, I found a friend from waaaaaaaaaay back on facebook.  I’m talking, we worked together when I was 17-18, and were great friends.  We lost touch when I moved from Houston to Georgia to be with Douche, and I missed her terribly.  We caught up a bit, and I found out that she married the guy she’d been with so long ago, and they just had a baby.  Happy thing number two.

After that, I got an email from Victoria’s Secret.  I thought it was some spam thing and almost deleted it…glad I didn’t.  Turns out it was a gift certificate from Sassy Mama herself, Lola, for writing some naughty stuff for her a while ago.  Free panties, wut, wut!  Happy thing number three.

Theeeeen, I clicked over to Ms. Moon’s page and read the happy news that her first grandbaby has arrived.    Doesn’t get any happier than that!  Congratulations, Grandmama Moon.  Happy thing number four.

All in all, a super great day.  I could kick myself for not buying a lottery ticket.

Sunday wasn’t bad, either, but nothing really big happened.  The boys and I took our dog, Bevo, to get a rabies shot, and then we took a trip to get some modeling clay for Big J.  I even cleaned my room and vacuumed the two lower floors of the house.  Douche called the boys (right after bedtime, again), and they got to talk to him for a little bit.  They didn’t say anything about what was said, so I didn’t ask.  Mom was downright pleasant today, and I am so very grateful for that. 

It’s a new week, hallelujah!

Why I Love My Sister

When I told Sis about the offending text message last night, this was her reply:

“Oh no, he isn’t the kind of guy who would forget his own son’s birthday! He’s just the kind of guy who would leave his wife and children for a skanky ho like her.”

And THAT is why I love her.

In other news, I got an email from Douche’s mother last night for the first time in months and months. Last weekend, I took some videos of my boys playing football at the Hall of Fame, and uploaded them to YouTube (it was taking forever to attach them directly to email), and sent the links to Douche, his mother, and his sister. This is the message I got from his mother, in total:

Douche can’t view these. Can you just attached the video files to the e-mail without going to utube. That way I can burn a DVD and send it to him.

There’s no “thanks for the videos,” no “what would Little J like for his birthday,” no nothing other than me needing to do something for Douche. She hasn’t called the boys since Big J’s birthday (in January), and the last time they talked to her was Mother’s Day when I had them call her.  It wasn’t so much what was said that pissed me off, it’s what isn’t said.

This just illustrates the kind of crap that she perpetuates in her son. Even if he doesn’t have a computer at home, there are these places called libraries – wonderful places full of books and computers you can use to stay connected to the internet, even. Besides that, I know he has internet access where he’s been in Afghanistan, because we’ve emailed back and forth a few times since he’s been gone. Not only that…he knows my phone numbers, why couldn’t he ask me himself (remember, he’s on leave right now, stateside)? Mama needs to do it for him? Give me a fucking break.

Let’s see…nasty text from his wife, bullshit email from his mother…I’d say that leaves his sister and his dad. Wonder which one is going to fight his (unnecessary) battles for him next time?

Assholes Bein’ Assholes

I honestly don’t know what more I can do to improve the relationship (which at this point is non-existent) between Douche and myself.  His cunting wife doesn’t help.

Since he’s on R&R right now, he’s home with her in Alaska.  His cell phone service was shut off when he left for Afghanistan, so the only way I can contact him is through her cell phone.  I’ve been worried that he’ll forget Little J’s birthday (it’s happened before) that’s in two weeks, so tonight, I sent this (very polite, I might add) text to her phone:

“Hey, I know you guys are super busy right now, but I just wanted to remind y’all of Little J’s birthday coming up.”

That’s it, all it was, and this is the response that CUNTING MOTHERFUCKIN CUNTBAG thought was warranted:

“I don’t think Douche needs to be reminded about his own son’s birthday, it’s more than half a month away so don’t worry we got it covered.”

Apparently, he doesn’t need to be reminded of their birthdays, just their address and phone number…

What. The. Fuck.  Seriously?  WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

I let it go, because the only thing worse than her being a cuntwaffle to me is me getting sucked into a bitchfest with her.  Assholes are gonna be assholes no matter how I react, so once again I take a deep breath, mutter “cunt” under my breath, and move the fuck on.

Can I get a witness?

Fussypants Friday

Another Friday with Senor Fussypants, and life is good.

The plan for the weekend is to work on homework and lie low.  Hopefully there won’t be any fireworks.  The boys don’t have any plans, and it’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so maybe they’ll get busy cleaning their rooms (yeah, right).

Something odd happened last night, and I’m not exactly sure what to think about it.  One of my friends asked me if I was interesting in getting to know her male friend who’s a pharmacist.  That in itself isn’t so odd, other than the fact that no one’s ever tried to set me up with a friend.  What’s odd about it is that she first tried setting him up with another friend of hers (and ex-co-worker of mine).  I don’t really know the other lady too well, but we share a lot of acquaintances.  Wouldn’t it be weird to date someone she had dated? 

What do you guys think?

The Pimp

This is for Sarcastic Bastard, who makes me laugh daily.

A pimp-eriffic old fart that my girl, Melissa, and I met at The Sugar Shack in Leesville, Louisiana.  He had an LED belt buckle.  Oh yeeeeah.

 

Is It Really Wednesday Already???

Thanks for your kind words and advice on the Mom situation.  This is one of the reasons I love the blogging community.  Y'all are awesome!

The last two nights have been pretty relaxed, and I asked her if she minded the boys and I going to see the therapist alone once before we all go together.  I was afraid that it would end up with her accusing and yelling and me crying, and I didn't want the boys to see all that.  I also wanted a little more time to prepare myself.  She said it was okay, but that she still wanted to go together another time.  No problem.  I have not been sleeping well every since Saturday, so I'm completely wiped out. 

This made it interesting when Douche texted my phone at 3 this morning with this message:  "I MADE STAFF SGT!"  Yes, it's earlier in Alaska than it is here, but for heaven's sake, it was still 11 pm there - a bit late to text/call someone (especially someone you never talk to).  What am I supposed to do with that information?  It's not as if I care about his career, and he was a Sgt. for 6 years.  6 YEARS!  If you aren't in-the-know with military ranking, 6 years is a very long time to be a plain Sgt., so it's not as if this is a big acheivement.  He could've been promoted 3 years ago if he'd have only done the schooling that was required.  Whatever the case, I was not amused that he decided to share his news in the middle of the night.  Asshole.

I was a good Mama, though, and told the boys at dinner that their dad had been promoted, and that they should probably call him.  (He's on R&R right now in Alaska, and has only called the boys once since he's been home).  Big J took my phone upstairs and called, and I expected him to bring it back down when he was done so Little J could talk.  However, when he came down, there was no one on the phone.  Apparently, when he called Douche, Douche told him he needed to call Douche's dad.  He did.  Douche's dad told him all about his plan to take the boys up to Alaska to visit right after school is out for the summer.  I have a few problems with this:

1.  No one has mentioned this to me at all.  I don't mind letting them go, but I am the custodial parent and need to know the details.  As far as I knew, they were planning to do this when Douche returned from Afghanistan, which would be in the spring.  At the very least, it's rude not to include me in any plans, and to expect the children to ferry the information to and fro.  That is one of the first things any child psychologist will tell you - do not count on the children to transfer information between parents, it's not their job.

2.  Neither one of them - Douche or his father - even mentioned Little J.  Neither one asked to talk to him, and neither one mentioned his birthday coming up.  

I feel like I need to give a disclaimer for this.  I didn't ask Big J what they talked about, he offered up the information.  The only thing I asked was anyone asked about Little J's birthday.  It always seems to get forgotten, and I know it hurts his feelings.

So, that's what's happening.  Douche continues being a douche.  More at 9!

I hope to catch up with y'all tonight.  Oooh, and I'm trying a new "signature" thing.  Not sure if I'll keep it, but I thought it might be nice.  Smoochies!

Totally Music Tuesday With A Side Of Blurg

I almost forgot it was Tuesday today, it’s been that kind of day.

I got about four hours of sleep, and n the way out the door, I was confronted with a small dent in the door frame, so I’ll have to deal with that this afternoon (one more thing). 

Little J’s missed the bus somehow this morning.  Since his school is on the other side of town, the bus comes at around 7:20.  Students can’t be dropped off by parents at school until 8:05, so I called my sister and told her I could come get the baby and then take Little J to school.  She didn’t want to do that (afraid to let anyone else drive with the baby), so I killed time and took my boy to breakfast, then fought traffic to get to his school.  We got there with about five minutes to spare before the tardy bell, then I high tailed it over to the school sis works at. 

What should have been at most a thirty minute drive took almost fifty.  I was sitting in traffic, where I could see the light I needed to turn at, three blocks from her school for twenty. effin. minutes.  There were also 2 dead skunks in the nearby vicinity.  Oh yeah.

I finally got to her school and got the car seat, baby, and diaper bag in the car, and fought traffic the other way to get to her house at 9, almost an hour and a half later than normal. 

It’s just been one of those mornings.

So here’s the song for the week.  It’s a band that’s been around for a while, but they’re new to me.  This is Candy by the Raveonettes.  Give ‘er a listen and let me know what you think.

FML

*Disclaimer* This is a whiny post.  If you want butterflies and sunshine, move along.  You’ve been warned, so please don’t leave a nasty comment telling me I’m an ungrateful bitch.  Thanks.

What a completely terrible weekend this is. 

I guess not completely, since the boys and I did have a good time yesterday up until we came home.  If you don’t know about our living situation, you can go here to get an idea.  It’s nowhere close to ideal, but it’s pretty much our only option at this point.

Yesterday afternoon, the boys and I came home from playing at the Hall of Fame and helped get groceries into the house, then the boys were doing their thing and I was getting started on some homework (always with the homework), when my mother found something to be angry about.  The boys had somehow ripped a part of the couch and not told anyone.  Wrong, yes.  I felt bad, yes.  I asked if there was any way I could fix it.  This turned into a tirade about how she thought that when we moved in here, she’d be less lonely.  I fail to understand how it’s my responsibility to make her un-lonely, but I digress. 

The boys had done something wrong, so I sent them to their rooms.  She continued to blast me on everything she could think of that had pissed her off in the last 3 months throughout the day.  I ended up telling the kids to stay in their rooms the rest of the night, except for dinner, because I didn’t want her going off on them, too.  I agreed that the boys weren’t allowed to be in the basement (where the couch is that got ripped) unless I was awake, since it’s likely that the incident took place when they were down here alone.  They usually come down here and watch TV or play video games when I sleep in on the weekends.  I told the boys, and they understood.  It was quiet last night, so I hoped it had blown over.

Not so, apparently.  I hadn’t been up for an hour yet when she keyed up again.  Little J was playing a video game, Big J was in my room on the computer, and mom was at her computer (in the basement, also).  I was sitting next to Little J, getting ready to begin the last of my weekend homework when she said, “Are we allowed to play video games?”  I said, “I guess not.  Little J, turn it off.”  Then, as I boiled, she (in front of Little J) began to yell at me, asking me what the consequences were for them ripping the couch.  I told her that they had spent all day and night in their rooms yesterday, and they had to stay upstairs this morning.  I asked if she thought they should be in their rooms all day again, and she said no.  So what the fuck should I do, then?  Accidents happen.  They didn’t rip the couch on purpose.  I understand her being pissed off about it, I do.  I was pissed off, too.  They were punished, I felt fairly.  Guess I was wrong.  She told me that we should go see the therapist together, and I told her I agreed, but ALL of us needed to go – not just the two of us.  The boys need to have a say, too.

She went to another room, then came back berating me.  When I didn’t say anything, she said she’s tired of me not talking to her.  What should I say?  I hate you?  I hate this situation with the fire of a thousand suns?  I followed her upstairs and told her I avoid her because I’m afraid of her.  I have always been afraid of her, both of my sisters feel the same way.  As soon as I said this, she yelled out, “We aren’t talking about this until we’re with the therapist!  Don’t say another word!”  Seriously.  You just told me you want me to talk to you, and now you’re yelling at me not to talk.  No wonder I’m afraid to say anything.  I told her as much, and she ordered me to sit down so we could talk.  I told her I’m afraid of her, that I never know if she’s going to bite my head off or not.  I feel like I run around the house trying to keep the boys from annoying her or doing something that might make her mad.  I feel like I have to protect them from her.  She yelled and cried, and told me she’s tired of being the bad guy all the time. 

Some of you may recall that last year, she was mad because the boys and I were always upstairs.  This was before I moved my room to the basement and the boys were sharing a room (my step-brother lived here then, too).  I had their video games hooked up to a TV in my room, and we’d often watch movies in there as well.  My logic for this was that the kids were contained.  We spent time together, and stayed out of my parents’ hair, trying to make sure they still felt like they had their own house.  She took it as we didn’t want to be around her, so we moved the games downstairs and tried to not be in my room so much.

Now, I’m told that we’re too much a presence in the house.  That the only place she feels like she has is her bedroom.  In the same breath, she’s upset because we don’t want to hang out with her and talk.  She wants more conversations and to not feel lonely.  (For the record, every time I ask if she’d like to do something with us, she says no.  This includes things with my sister.)  So what’s the middle ground?  I haven’t a clue.  Do I quit school and try to find a job so we can move out?  Do I suck it up yet again and try to put on the nice face?  It’s a no-win situation for any of us, and no one is happy.  There is at least one point in every week when I want to just take the kids and run away somewhere, but there’s nowhere to go.  I feel completely helpless and guilty that my kids are in this situation.  I try to see her side, but she won’t budge an inch to try to see mine. 

I don’t know what to do, but something has to give.  If you have any pearls of wisdom, or even just something funny, please share it.  Lord knows I could use a laugh right now.