not_so_very

Soundtrack of me

I recently had a chance to rent Sweeney Todd (finally) and totally loved it. Here's one of my favies. Have A Little Priest.


 LOVETT:
It's priest. Have a little priest.
TODD:
Is it really good?
LOVETT:
Sir, it's too good, at least!
Then again, they don't commit sins of the flesh,
So it's pretty fresh.
TODD:
Awful lot of fat.
LOVETT:
Only where it sat.
TODD:
Haven't you got poet, or something like that?
LOVETT:
No, y'see, the trouble with poet is
'Ow do you know it's deceased?
Try the priest!

TODD: (spoken) Heavenly!
Not as hearty as bishop, perhaps,
but then again, not as bland as curate, either!

LOVETT:
And good for business, too -- always leaves you wantin' more!
Trouble is, we only get it on Sundays!

Lawyer's rather nice.
TODD:
If it's for a price.
LOVETT:
Order something else, though, to follow,
Since no one should swallow it twice!
TODD:
Anything that's lean.
LOVETT:
Well, then, if you're British and loyal,
You might enjoy Royal Marine!
Anyway, it's clean.
Though of course, it tastes of wherever it's been!
TODD:
Is that squire,
On the fire?
LOVETT:
Mercy no, sir, look closer,
You'll notice it's grocer!
TODD:
Looks thicker,
More like vicar!
LOVETT:
No, it has to be grocer --
It's green!

TODD:
The history of the world, my love --
LOVETT:
Save a lot of graves,
Do a lot of relatives favors!
TODD:
Is those below serving those up above!
LOVETT:
Ev'rybody shaves,
So there should be plenty of flavors!
TODD:
How gratifying for once to know
BOTH:
That those above will serve those down below!

LOVETT: (spoken) Now let's see, here... We've got tinker.
TODD: Something... pinker.
LOVETT: Tailor?
TODD: Paler.
LOVETT: Butler?
TODD: Subtler.
LOVETT: Potter?
TODD: Hotter.
LOVETT: Locksmith?

Lovely bit of clerk.
TODD:
Maybe for a lark.
LOVETT:
Then again there's sweep
If you want it cheap
And you like it dark!
Try the financier,
Peak of his career!
TODD:
That looks pretty rank.
LOVETT:
Well, he drank,
It's a bank
Cashier.
Never really sold.
Maybe it was old.
TODD:
Have you any Beadle?
LOVETT:
Next week, so I'm told!
Beadle isn't bad till you smell it and
Notice 'ow well it's been greased...
Stick to priest!

(spoken) Now then, this might be a little bit stringy,
but then of course it's... fiddle player!
TODD: No, this isn't fiddle player -- it's piccolo player!
LOVETT: 'Ow can you tell?
TODD: It's piping hot!
LOVETT: Then blow on it first!

TODD:
The history of the world, my sweet --
LOVETT:
Oh, Mr. Todd,
Ooh, Mr. Todd,
What does it tell?
TODD:
Is who gets eaten, and who gets to eat!
LOVETT:
And, Mr. Todd,
Too, Mr. Todd,
Who gets to sell!
TODD:
But fortunately, it's also clear
BOTH:
That [L: But] ev'rybody goes down well with beer!

LOVETT: (spoken)
Since marine doesn't appeal to you, 'ow about... rear admiral?
TODD: Too salty. I prefer general.
LOVETT: With, or without his privates? "With" is extra.

TODD: What is that?
LOVETT:
It's fop.
Finest in the shop.
And we have some shepherd's pie peppered
With actual shepherd on top!
And I've just begun --
Here's the politician, so oily
It's served with a doily,
Have one!
TODD:
Put it on a bun.
Well, you never know if it's going to run!
LOVETT:
Try the friar,
Fried, it's drier!
TODD:
No, the clergy is really
Too coarse and too mealy!
LOVETT:
Then actor,
That's compacter!
TODD:
Yes, and always arrives overdone!
I'll come again when you have JUDGE on the menu!

LOVETT: (spoken) Wait! True, we don't have judge yet,
but we've got something you might fancy even better.
TODD: What's that?
LOVETT: Executioner!

TODD:
Have charity towards the world, my pet!
LOVETT:
Yes, yes, I know, my love!
TODD:
We'll take the customers that we can get!
LOVETT:
High-born and low, my love!
TODD:
We'll not discriminate great from small!
No, we'll serve anyone,
Meaning anyone,
BOTH:
And to anyone
At all!

Okay, a few details...

I work for the City of Nunya in the Development Services department. (At the law firm I worked on the developers side of land use, and now I do the same stuff but on the city side.) I really, really like it so far. The mornings have been okay, (No depression issues) but at the end of the day I am EXHAUSTED!! I just want to lay down and sleep. However, I am happy to report that so far it's just exhaustion. I can push through it and get dinner and baths for the kids. So, I feel pretty good. Clothes are an issue; I have really packed on the pounds. However, it's business casual so I am faking it with some super cute shoes. (I highly recommend super cute shoes. Ladies, feeling not so pretty? Put on your super cute shoes and strut around the house wearing nothing else. It's good for the soul.) 

I am a Administrative Assistant III (a glorified secretary) but the pay is the same as I was making at the firm, with about 1/4th of the commute. It's very interesting and super fast paced, but not very challenging which is perfect for me right now. I found out there has been a hiring freeze for the city for the last 10 months. It was lifted solely for the purpose of filing this position (Yes, I do feel special.) and it is back on until no one knows when. The only difficulty so far is the internal computer system which I am figuring out pretty quickly. 

I love the people and they have been really great to me. As you can imagine, they were pretty desperate to fill this job, and they are *really happy to see me and let me take over all the extra stuff they have been doing. There don't seem to be any major personality disputes, and yet plenty of gossip, so I am super happy.

Everyone keep your fingers crossed that this works out for us, we really need it!!

 

Having a job and chronic depression is like having a job and having chronic diarrhea. You don’t know when it’s going to flair up, but you know at some point it’s going to embarrass you and at some point your going to have to start making excuses for it. I’m staring to get nervous about starting the new job tomorrow. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers.

Yesterday morning I woke up in a fabulous mood. I leapt from bed, jumped out of my jammies and into my clothes and was off and running. Three kids to three different schools, a dry run to the new office to see what traffic’s like, lunch with a wonderful old friend, and then off to my pre-employment health screening.

 

I was expecting a simple pee test, but no, they wanted the whole shebang. I was told to strip down to my bra and panties. Imagine my horror when I was forced to admit I wasn’t wearing any panties. I swear, normally I do, but I just didn’t yesterday. No biggie, I kept my jeans on, but it was still a traumatic experience.

 

On a better note, Lumpy and I found several red strawberries in our newly planted garden. Yummy!! And, I see a few more today.

 

Here’s my progress so far:

 

1. Take children fishing. Check
2. Finish mowing the grass; edge and weed eat the yard.  Check
3. Get the dog shaved within an inch of his life. 
4. Have lunch with a great girlfriend on the plaza.  
5. Walk on the local walk path with a different great girlfriend. 
6. Shave my legs. Today
7. Figure out a budget so I can catch up on my bills. 
8. Get caught up on laundry. (I can dream, can’t I?)  Halfway there
9. Take the children to see a movie. In a movie theater. Is it just me, or is that hell on earth? Yes, it is hell on earth and I am removing it from my list.

 

I also bought a pretty new dress, a new shirt and I found the other strappy brown sandal to match the one I use as a doorstop.

 

Soundtrack Of Me

I can’t explain it, but I’ve had the theme song from Diff’rent Strokes in my head for days.

 

And, this morning I had Hannah Montana’s “Start all over” banging in my head.

Well, it took 6 months, almost to the day, but I am finally employed again. On Monday morning, bright and god damned early, I will be standing in the City Development office of my local town, wearing my brand new dress. When I lost my last job I developed a list of things I wanted to do before I was forced back into an office. Unfortunately, I wrote that list on mental paper, and it has of course gotten misplaced somewhere in the dark crevasses of my mind. I wont bore you with the details of the precious few I have completed, but I will regale you with those I have left, and that I need to complete before 8 a.m. Monday. 

1. Take children fishing. (One down, 2 to go.)
   
2. Finish mowing the grass; edge and weed eat the yard. 
   
3. Get the dog shaved within an inch of his life. 
   
4. Have lunch with a great girlfriend on the plaza.  
   
5. Walk on the local walk path with a different great girlfriend. 
   
6. Shave my legs. 
   
7. Figure out a budget so I can catch up on my bills. 
   
8. Get caught up on laundry. (I can dream, can’t I?) 
   
9. Take the children to see a movie. In a movie theater. Is it just me, or is that hell on earth? 

I know there’s more, but this is the list I’ve come up with so far. 

Wish me luck!!

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/non-offendingparents/

 Let’s all give a big hand for the correct medication to deal with depression!

 

I have continued to play with my grill and I am proud to report that my eyebrow and hair are growing back nicely.  The dog continues to be walked with some regularity, and once I wore shorts. I agree that it’s normally quite impolite to walk around with such pale legs showing, but I find discretion has become boring.

 

I have found a fabulous writer lately and have devoured two of his books. Greg Iles. I’ve read 24Hours and The Quiet Game. I am currently reading Dead Sleep and loving it. If you have a chance, check him out.

 

I took Lumpy to Kindergarten Round-up and boy, is she excited to start school like her brother and sister. Have you ever tried to explain to a five year old the concept of 4 months? If you have, then you know that you can explain it all you want to, you’ll have to explain it again later. And tomorrow. Bubba is perfect of course, and Snard is still crazy.

 

Speaking of crazy, I bought a new lawn mower. One of those old timey ones with the spinning blades that doesn’t use gas. (I’m trying to minimize my carbon footprint.) If you’ve ever thought of getting one, but wondered if they are difficult to use, let me tell you. They are not hard to push. It is like the fourth level of hell to push. And they choke on wet grass as much as any other mower. After four hours of mowing my law, and praying for rain the whole time so I could stop, I finally gave up. I had a few glasses of wine and a few muscle relaxers, slept like a baby, and woke this morning with no pain. I may even finish the yard today.

 

Last weekend the kids and I made a garden. It’s full of tomatoes and strawberries. I stare out the window everyday and wait for something to happen.

 

Bright and early Monday morning I have a second interview at a job I’d really like to have. Fingers crossed!!

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/non-offendingparents/

 As you know, we accept all victories here. We don’t discriminate based on size or completed slackerness. Here is a list of my latest.

 

I have been walking the dog. I have 1) been putting on pants! 2) putting on shoes!! and 3) walking my dog to the end of the block and back. A small feet? I am also dragging a 5 year old and her bicycle. So it is a bit of a workout.

 

I bought a grill. And I cooked on it! And the steaks I made were awesome!! I have never bought a grill before and I sure as hell have never managed to cook anything edible on one. I’m damned proud.

 

Lumpy has spent no less than 2 nights in her bed in as many weeks. That’s right; I’m mom of the year.

 

I got the correct meds to deal with the depression! Thanks to the medical clinic for broke people, I have 100 pills to get me through the next 100 days. Whoo!!  I refuse to thank the government for this, but I will thank tax payers. So, thanks.

 

Soundtrack of me

 

I’m rockin two songs today. It’s an odd combo. The disco styling’s of La Bouche’s Forget-Me-Nots…

 

Sending you forget-me-nots
To help me to remember
Baby please forget-me-not
I want you to remember
Sending you forget-me-nots
To help me to remember
Baby please forget-me-not
I want you to remember

 

As well as Porno for Pyro’s We’ll Make Great Pet’s…

 

Will there be another race
To come along and take over for us?
Maybe martians could do
Better than we've done
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!

It's been a rough week around here. On Monday, at about 1:30 in the afternoon, my sweet grandmother died. It's been a long hard road for her lately, and I must admit this comes as a bit of a relief. A few days before she died she said that she had woken up that morning to find my grandfather, who died two years ago, standing in her doorway telling her it was time. He said, "Come on". I find a great deal of comfort in the belief that they are together again. After 60 years together, it never seemed right that they were separated, even if by death.

We had court yesterday. It was just the preliminary hearing. I did not have to testify, but Snard did. For an hour and a half!! I can't tell you how sick I was while she was in the courtroom. (I couldn't go in with her because I'm a witness too.) It was awful, but everyone said that she did well. A good friend of mine went with me and she was a huge help in trying to keep my mind off of what was going on in the courtroom. The witness room we were in had a bird’s eye view of the police courtyard. We had a lot of laughs at the OPD’s expense. We love and respect them, but sometimes it’s so easy. jeff's atty had subpoena'd two of Snard’s friends to testify against her. That caused a lot of stress for us, but they didn't help jeff's case any. Sounds like they were pretty much not willing to pay that game. They are Snard’s friends and they know jeff is a bastard. That was good to know.

 

So they next step is the hearing. I'm not sure when that will happen yet, but I'm guessing it will happen in the next 3 to 6 months. I'll keep you up to date. In the meantime, whew, we all get to celebrate that this step is over and we are finally moving on this thing. Thanks for all the good thoughts and prayers!!

 

We have had a cold and drizzily week hear, but it looks like this weekend might be warm. The kids and I are looking forward to playing outside and riding bikes.

I’ve tried to reread what I typed earlier this week and the rage is to blinding. Sorry about that. I’m not sure if I lost my mind that day, or if I found it. The truth is, I am sick of feeling like a victim. Since I found out about the abuse, I have felt like a burn victim. 3rd degree all over my body. Every movement had hurt, every breeze causes pain. I wake up every morning in a full on flinch, and I drag my body through my day waiting for the slings and arrows that I know will come at me.

 

I have waited patently for a painfully slow legal system to catch up to a civil judge who’s moving at warp speed. I have suffered violation after violation by an obsessed soon-to-be-ex-husband who maneuvers around a Protection From Abuse Order with the grace of a ballerina. I’ve seen his myspace page completely dedicated to my 14 year old little girl, headed as “I can only love her from afar”. I have lost my job, and been to more therapy appointments (all four of us see therapists) than my therapists have been to. I have worried, feared, lost countless nights of sleep. I have blamed myself, my daughter, her father and god.

 

1 in 4 little girls, and 1 in 6 little boys, are sexually abused. Where is everyone? Why am I facing this alone? The shame is so great that people keep this a secret. How could I have not seen what was going on in my house? Because it was a secret. Every person I have told about the abuse has told me, in hushed tones, their own story of abuse. Or the story of a loved one who was abused, or who abused. Always in a whisper so no one overhears their personal shame.

 

I will no longer hide under the umbrella of shame. I will no longer allow myself to drown in the guilt of someone else’s actions. I will no longer keep childhood sexual abuse a secret.

 

I will be angry. And I will let my righteous indignation propel me forward to make a difference. I will start a meeting in my area and I will find the other survivors. I will take my power back, and help them find the ways to reclaim theirs. My daughter will not have suffered in vain, and we will no longer suffer in silence.

 

Ever wake up in a blind fucking rage and stay that way all day? Let me tell you about the time it happened to me.

 

First of all, let me go ahead and tell you a little story that I haven’t posted about here.

I am currently divorcing a man that sexually abused my eldest daughter, Snard, for two years. No, I didn’t know he was doing that. No, it’s not my fault. No, she did not make up the abuse. No, I did not force her to say that he had abused her is some attempt to get full custody and make myself a single mom with three children. HE did it. HE made those decisions. It is HIS fault. Not hers, not mine.  I refuse to accept responsibility for his sick fucking actions.

 

I will do everything in my power to protect my children from him. And I will do everything I can to pick up the pieces of OUR ruined lives and fix the damage that HE has caused. And I will continue to work with the police and court system until the very day that his sick ass is tossed into prison and he can spend the rest of his life being ass raped by murders who think his is the biggest piece of shit in the universe. I hope he is made to feel as bad as he has made my daughter feel.

 

Snard is from my first marriage. Bubba and Lumpy are the biological children of the man I am divorcing. While all of his rights to Snard have been suspended, he still has rights to Bubba and Lumpy. I went to court last week because jeff, the sick fucking bastard, who lives in Olathe, Kansas, three blocks from an elementary school, wants more rights to his children.

 

I then had to listen to Judge Isenhour, a pompus fucking windbag if ever there was one, ramble on about his love and affection for the constitution and how jeff is innocent until proven guilty. I also love the constitution. I’m a big fan of that document that so many have fought and died for. I love this country. And I have no problem waiting for us to have our day in court. However, in his little diatribe, he made the comment that my daughter is “Ruined, either because she was sexual abused or led to believe she was abused”. So my little girl is “ruined”, but jeff is innocent until proven guilty? She’s trash at the tender age of 14, but he is innocent until proven guilty? SHE’S NOT RUINED! She’s not a pretty little dress with a stain on it. She’s a little girl!

 

Also, in all of  this verbal diarrhea, the judge started to say that I speak ill of jeff in front of the kids. My atty stood up and said that I don’t speak ill of him, and the judge laughed and said, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that”. Now, my parents began their divorce when I was 5, and it didn’t end until I was 12. Meanwhile, my sister and I were pawns in their attempts to do as much damage to each other as possible. I was kidnapped from my father, by my mother, and spent time being stashed in bathrooms and basements so that I wouldn’t be found by my father. My mother spewed hatred about my father to me everyday. I hate her for putting me in the middle of HER divorce. I NEVER put my children in the middle of my divorce. IT”S NOT THEIR PROBLEM. But, this judge who called my daughter “ruined” essentially called me a bad mom. But jeff is innocent until proven guilty!! I am so outraged and offended I can’t even calm myself down. I have a cold wet wash rag to my face and all it’s doing is catching tears and snot.

 

When do Snard and I have our day to defend ourselves?

 

Soundtrack of me

I’m so angry all I can hear is the blood pounding in my head.

It's snowing again. dammit.  Not only that, but it's snowing sideways. Windchill of 9. Oh, how I love the light Kansas breeze.

Yesterday, I shaved about half of my lower left calf, and then gave up. I shaved on Monday, so it's not like I'm a wholly mammoth or anything, I just lacked the energy to do it again. That's really saying something when you consider I was sitting in the bathtub with lots of bubbles. I was trying to perk myself up, but, blech. Depression sucks. I need sunshine already.

Snard's school is closed today, so she is across town at the humane society working off some community service hours. She's doing really well. I didn't even have to ride her butt this morning. She just got up with the rest of us, the little ones did have school, and she jumped in the car to go get her work done. I was mighty proud. I think she really wants to get her hours done before school break.

I'm completely sucked into the tv show "Lost". Oh, how I'd do anything to be Evangeline Lilly.

And the soon-to-be ex-husband is still psycho. The police are on their way here now because he violated the PFA again.

Such is life, I guess.

Oh, dear, sweet baby jesus. Please make the winter go away. I haven't felt my feet in a month, my face is pink from the cold wind, and my poofy hair has gone limp. I hate it when I'm limp.

Grandma is back in the hospital. She's not doing so well. The confusion is back, and her memory seems to be gone. I guess I'll be sprinting through the hospital parking lot again.  My parents are traveling again so I had to sit my dad down and have the very tough discussion about what to do if their gone, and his mommy dies. He said "call me". Not really sufficient. At my request he is making arrangements with a local funeral home today. Just in case. For a long time I have wondered how it would go when I had to have to tell dad that he's to old to drive. (He's not, but someday he will be. And this is the man who used to hit me with a belt.) I think after this talk about his mom, I can talk to dad about anything. 

Speaking of dad, he said the worst thing to me recently. He said, "Honey, don't get mad, but in 8 and 1/2 years, you're going to be 40". What an awful thing to say!!! He was trying to talk to me about what I want to do with my life and figure out a ten year plan. But seriously, all I could think about was Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally,  screeching that she was going to be fourty someday. A ten year plan? Really? I think I might go to the grocery store tomorrow. In ten years I'll be fourty. I'LL BE FOURTY!! I can't get over it. Eventually, I'll have to get past it so I can figure out what I want to be when I grow up, but until then... OMG I'm gonna be fourty. 

Bubba wants to be a teacher when he grows up.

Lumpy still wont sleep in her own bed.

Snard had a blow out yesterday which ended when she told me to bite her ass. I remained calm and a few minutes later she told me she was sorry. We have had a long time appointment that is finally coming up on Monday. Hopefully we can get her meds up again, but we're doing the best we can.


Soundtrack of me

Secret Agent Man -- By Johnny Rivers?

Secret agent man, secret agent man
They've given you a number and taken away your name

 Oh, dear lord, please make the snow and cold go away. Please. I promise to never drink again.

We had that one, oh so lovley, day of warmth, and I actually felt my feet begin to thaw. Then the sky opened up and 6 inches of snow fell on me like a ton of bricks. Now the kids have cabin fever and I am back to hiding under the covers. We've all had the flu, or some illness. Lots of projectile vomiting and such. The dog is well, but he gives me a dirty look sometimes. I think sometimes he wishes he was back at the pound. Then at least he'd have a shot at getting a good family. But, he's stuck with us. Snard has been well. The occasional outburst, but I believe her meds are pretty close to spot on. A neighbor spoke to me the other day (they usually run and hide.) but, she just wanted to tell me my dog had gotten out. 

I had to spank Bubba recently. I hate that. He's such a good boy. Here's the conversation that followed the spankin':

Me: What did you do wrong?
Him: I ran out into the street without looking.
Me: And why is that wrong?
Him: I could have been run over by a car.
Me: And then what?
Him: I might have died.
Me: And then what?
Him: And then you would have cried.

Seriously. I love that boy. 

Grandma is doing well. I hate that she's so old though. I know that the alternative is bad, but this whole getting old thing looks like a jip. And it makes me miss grandpa more. The folks are well. My mommy rocks. 

Anyone catch the Grammy's last night? My hat is off to Vince Gil for calling out that pissy bitch Kanye. And the Sgt. Peppers thing brought tears to my eyes. I'm sending heartfelt wishes and such to Amy Winehouse. I sincerely hope she gets well. She kicked ass last night. 

Well, that's abut all. Still no job. Still no hope for the future. I do have new antidepressants though. I'll let you know how they work.

 

I think that me sprinting across the hospital parking lot has become a normal scene. However, today I calmly walked the lot with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. Grandma is back. This morning when I woke her up, she said “Oh, you wouldn’t believe the nightmares I’ve been having. If I knew how to write a book, I’d write a horror novel and make a million.” I said, “Yeah, me too!” She wasn’t having nightmares, she wasn’t even asleep. Not for days. She’s been having the strangest hallucinations. Yesterday, she had taken her three year old granddaughter shopping in Staten Island and had left her somewhere. She went to get her back, and the people wouldn’t give her back. So she agreed to trade her fox fur coat to them for her granddaughter. They agreed, but once they had the coat, they wouldn’t give her her granddaughter back. So they had her coat and her granddaughter. She was certainly more concerned about getting her granddaughter back than the coat, but lord she was upset about that coat. And she really wanted a beer. Which is extra special weird, because she’s not a beer drinker. She drinks Jack. She asked me how her mom was doing. She wanted to know if her mom had gone blind. (Her mother died when I was three.) And she was convinced that someone had died but that we wouldn’t tell her who it was. She was sure it was either my dad, or her brother. And then she yelled at me for being stubborn. It was a tough day.

 

But, not today! Today she was retelling it all to me, as if she had seen it from a distance. And then we had a very normal conversation about how everyone is doing and catching up on all the normal stuff.

 

Then I came home and let the demons loose on their bikes while I rode around on my roller blades until my ass actually fell off.

 

Let me sum up. My daughter has once again been placed in Protective Police Custody (PPC) because of her insanity. I didn’t want to press charges against her for battery, and she didn’t quite reach the level for the police to charge with Criminal Damage. So, they took her to a “shelter” here in town for 72 hours, which actually became 4 days. And now, my delicate little flower has once again returned home. But, nothing has changed.

 

Yesterday I went to visit my grandmother, who I fear may be dieing. She has recently had surgery on her back, which she broke in a samba class over the summer. I know she was stoned out of her mind on pain meds, so maybe her crazy is justified. But, as I walked through the hospital parking lot I was hit by an old and familiar sensation. Remember that hallway from your youth, or that staircase, that scared the living hell out of you? The one you had to run down because you could feel the boogie man breathing on your back? Or maybe you had to hop into bed from the doorway of you bedroom so the ankle monster wouldn’t get you. I had that feeling. That “walk faster, it’s gaining on you”, wispy fingers grabbing at my back, touching my skin and scarring me to death. I practically ran to my car at 11:00 in the morning through a busy parking lot of a hospital in a panic. I’m sure it happens all the time.

 

I lit a cigarette and sat there trying to figure out what the hell that was. A fear of death? No, I’m young and she’s 81. A fear of losing all the elderly members of my family and being left alone and an orphan? No, Folks are in great health and doing well. Hmm.

 

It’s the crazy. We’ve talked about how crazy runs in my family. Hell, it runs with scissors. But, that’s on my biological mom’s side. She was in the loony bin for a few months in the 70’s. My sister is coo coo, and it’s just a matter of time until she goes to the puzzle factory. And now my daughter is Banana’s. But, if my dad’s mom is crazy, then how can I possible be normal? Am I normal? What if I’m bonkers and don’t know it? Seriously, if everyone else is crazy, maybe it’s not them, but me.

 

And maybe, it’s gaining on me.

 

You know how sometimes your kids just piss you off and you lose it a little? Well, it happened to me today. I. Hate. Trying to go somewhere with my kids. Hate. Snard can dress herself, of course, but she can’t get out of the house without a long litany of questions. Where to? Then what? What happens after that? Can we go to Olathe next week? Why not? And of course all this must occur while she follows me around the house texting. I am so sick of looking at the top of her head. Then sweet little Lumpy Marie cannot dress herself. Oh, she tries, but it never seems to work out for her. The tights that she wears under her pants for extra warmth are the greatest joy to watch her put on. Her ensemble usually includes not less than the following; 

1. 1.                 Tights;
2. 2.                 Pants;
3. 3.                 Undershirt;
4. 4.                 Sweater, or two;
5. 5.                 Hair barrettes, just any old place;
6. 6.                 Scarf;
7. 7.                 Coat;
8. 8.                 And the ever present, little black sandals.

Her father gave her those fucking sandals at their last visitation, the week before Christmas. He also gave her the coat, and a coat for Bubba that is to small. I scrounged for money to get them coats BEFORE it got cold, but he’s a fucking hero because he thought to give them one at the END of DECEMBER. Yes, I’m bitter.

 

Next hurdle - Bubba. Two socks. TWO socks. One on EACH foot. Both feet must be covered with socks BEFORE the cowboy boots. (Did I forget to mention that fuckhead bought the kid cowboy boots? I hate them. He looks like a redneck, and I’ve been trying really hard to get some of the redneck off now that we live in a college town.) Why does the dog eat one sock? Dunno, don’t care. Find another and put it on. He is the only boy in a house full of women, and yet, the three of us are regularly sitting in the vehicle waiting on him. Arg.

 

Oh, and I’d like to get dressed please. Go away. Away. Now. There is about to be naked momma. Away. GO!! GIT!!!!

 

WE ARE NOT GOING!!!

 

Once a week we go to iHop for dinner, and we never show up in a good mood. I may have accidentally shouted the whole way to the restaurant tonight. And, in my apparent lunacy I may have mentioned something about Snard’s trip to the puzzle factory. Hmm, crow with a side order of pancakes, please. So, I’m an asshole. Sorry. The little ones made their apologies, and so did I. A pleasant meal was had by all. Except for all the other people who were unfortunate enough to have decided to fill that hankerin’ for pancakes tonight. Sorry.

 

Mid meal – to my horror – I heard it. That damn internal soundtrack. That’s right. “It’s Britney, Bitch”. I couldn’t help it and it wouldn’t go away. It was like being stricken with a sudden and temporary case of Turrets. And there I was begging for more. Nothing to do but get back to the car, find it on the new mp3 player and crank it up until Lumpy whimpered. Unfortunately, immediately following that song on my player is Neil Diamond’s Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show. Nothing to do but get jiggy and make a joyful noise. Even Snard was dancing by the time we got home.

Soundtrack of me.

Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show

Hot August night
And the leaves hanging down
And the grass on the ground smellin’ sweet
Move up the road to the outside of town
And the sound of that good gospel beat
Sits a ragged tent
Where there ain’t no trees
And that gospel group tellin’ you and me
It’s Love, Brother Love, say
Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show
Pack up the babies and grab the old ladies
And ev’ryone goes, ‘cause everyone knows
Brother Love’s show

Room gets suddenly still
And when you’d almost bet
You could hear yourself sweat, he walks in
Eyes black as coal
And when he lifts his face
Ev’ry ear in the place is on him
Starting soft and slow
Like a small earthquake
And when he lets go,
Half the valley shakes

It’s Love, Brother Love, say
Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show
Pack up the babies and grab the old ladies
And ev’ryone goes, ‘cause everyone knows
Brother Love’s show

Take my hand in yours,
Walk with me this day
In my heart I know, I will never stray
Halle, halle, halle, halle
Halle, halle, halle, halle
It’s Love, Brother Love, say
Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show
Pack up the babies
And grab the old ladies and ev’ryone goes
I say, Love, Brother Love, say
Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show
Pack up the babies
And grab the old ladies and ev’ryone goes…

Don't forget...

 

Leave Britney alone!!
 

Gimmie more

 

It's Britney Bitch
I see you and I just wanna dance with you

Every time they turn the lights down
Just wanna go that extra mile for you
Display of affection
Feels like no one else in the room

We can get down like there’s no one around
We keep on rockin', we keep on rockin'
Cameras are flashin my way, dirty dancer
They keep watchin, keep watchin'
Feels like the privacy

Gimme Gimme more
Gimme more
Gimme gimme more (repeat 4)

Centre of attention, even when your up against the wall
You got me in a crazy position (uh huh)
If your on a mission (ooh)
You got my permission ooohhh

 

Oh, how I hate the holidays. Not the little baby Jesus part, that's pretty cool. But, I hate everything else about the holidays. Always made extra special hard by cold weather. I have suffered from depression all my life long, and it is always made worse by cold weather. I think the one year I didn't want to hibernate was the year I lived in Hawaii. Christmas in Hawaii rocks. 

Let me sum up the last month or so. We did make it to Thanksgiving dinner, which was wonderful. I guess. I think you have to like turkey to truly enjoy Thanksgiving, and I hate turkey. In fact, I hate birds. And I hate to eat birds. My grandmother moved to a retirement community in the area, and immediately got sick and went to the hospital. Then she went to the the "skilled nursing" section of the retirement community. That may be the scariest place on the planet. We called it the alzheimer wing. It was awful. People sleeping in their wheelchairs anywhere that people left them; confused people calling out for help; the stink of old. The staff was great, but it was still awful. Grandma started doing better and was allowed back to her apartment. Then it began. She told me several times not to gain anymore weight. This woman weighs 91 pounds and is proud of that. She has always watched her weight and been proud to be super skinny. My grandfather used to say that making love to her was like laying on a sack of hangers. I loved my grandpa and miss him terribly. And let me just say, There is nothing hangerish about me, and I am okay with that. I love my curves. Grandma is super demanding, yet everything we so is wrong. I won't go on about that anymore, just know that she has pissed me off.

My parents sold their house and moved the week before Christmas. I got to help out a lot with that and my mom and I had a fabulous time going crazy that week. Crazy in a good way. (Speaking of crazy, Snard has been doing really well. She has gotten to be a lot of fun to be around. Most of the time.) It was good to be useful. 

Nothing still on the job hunt. Not much out there right now, Hopefully people will start looking for new employees again after the new year.

Now, Christmas. The kids did okay. I got a new camera, which I begged my mommy for, and I also got a new mp3 player. It rocks!! 

And that's really all I have to say about that.

If you find yourself vomiting in the next few days, settle in and relax. You will vomit again in the next 4-6 hours. At least that is the trend at my house. First Lumpy barfed on Bubba’s blanket. I washed it and the following morning Bubba barfed on it. Snard managed to make it to the bathroom, and mid-vomit complained that the toilet smelled bad. Me? I don’t feel so well, and I may be dis-invited from the Thanksgiving meal. Crap. I don’t know how to make a turkey.

 

Soundtrack of me

A low hum and a gentle pounding.

 

As a newly stay at home mom, and as someone who as always been concerned about the health and well being of her children, (READ: recently unemployed, panic stricken and in desperate need of a good “day drunk” but foolishly cleaning nonstop in a vain effort to show that I really do have all my shit on one plate) I’d like to highly recommend a new product by Resolve. Resolve High Traffic Foam. This stuff is forgiveness in a can. What Mr. Clean Erasers are to walls, this stuff is to carpet. Somehow, my three children manage to bring the entire outdoors into the house with them, and then they grind it into the carpet. This stuff calls ground in stains a pussy and then kicks their ass. The pisser? Just like the erasers, it doesn’t last nearly long enough. I managed to clean my living room and half my dinning room with two cans. I'd need to get a case just to do my whole house - once. I wonder if Resolve does a “Rug Cleaner of the Month Club”. Wouldn’t that rock?

 

I went on a major cleaning supply run to the local Target this morning. I bought carpet cleaning stuff, clothes cleaning stuff, toilet cleaner, floor and counter stuff. Even air "freshener" stuff, but they didn’t have my body soap. It’s the cheapest stuff – but it doesn’t melt my skin and it smells wonderful. Arg!! They didn’t have it!! What they did have was enough Ivory to float the hole building. (Cuz, Ivory floats – right?) So, I give you today’s Soundtrack of me.

 

Soundtrack of me

Ebony And Ivory Live Together In Perfect Harmony
Side By Side On My Piano Keyboard, Oh Lord Why Don't We?

Ebony, Ivory Living In Perfect Harmony
Ebony, Ivory, Ooh

 

Hi everyone!! Miss me? I know you did. Sorry, I was on sabbatical. No, I didn’t go to the boobie hatch. In fact, no one did. I just got fired, that’s all. Yup, three weeks of rest and relaxation. I guess FMLA doesn’t really mean much if your employer is a law firm. Rat bastards. So, now I’m an unemployed single mom with three kids and no job or health insurance. Good news? Snards evil twin came back for a few days, but we upped her meds and all is well. She actually giggled the other day, and it was awesome!!

 

Lumpy has been sleeping in my bed, and only in my bed, for a few weeks now. I struggle with whether this is okay or not. I feel like I should force her to sleep in her own bed, and yet, I want her to know that she can come to mommy whenever she wants to. So, I’ve decided to let her do it for awhile and eventually I will do what I can to convince her to go back to her own room. Oh, by the way, sweet little Lumpy Marie had a birthday, and she is now five. And in case you were wondering, Moon Sand sucks. Don’t give it to your kids.  

 

Bubba Lee is doing just fine, as always. He is the only sane one is a house full of crazy girls. I decided to sit down with him and watch the Hawks play football. Now, I’m not a football kinda’ gal. I love college basketball, and the Hawks are my fav team, but I have never enjoyed football. So I called a guy friend of mine for some advice on appropriate behaviors to display when our team gets a touchdown. I was concerned that squealing and jumping around on one foot would be a bit girly to teach my son. My friend assured me that anytime our team gets a touchdown, squealing IS appropriate, but all skipping should be replaced with high five’s. Fine. I can be a good male role model for my boy. We sat down to watch the game. He was very excited to watch it, but unfortunately the girls were watching Hanna Montana and before we could even see the coin toss, he was gone. So, I was spared football. Whew.

 

Soundtrack of me

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
Door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into Springs
These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
Door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into Springs
These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.