* There are stairs. The good news is, my ass is already feeling the difference. Woot! The bad news is I'm on the edge of a mental breakdown from the stress of trying to keep my toddler from hurling himself all the way down them. And those are just the stairs to the upper floor! There are also stairs going down to the basement, a place I feel I need rarely go to but happens to have the washer and dryer in it. I don't let the kids on those stairs. I have to wait until I'm mostly certain they're not about to die on the other stairs, grab a basket of laundry and shut the door tight behind me before gripping the railing and carefully stepping down them.
* It's big. And drafty. So it's cold. Because it's oil heat. I know, we're insane. When I say WE I mean The Man. Apparently we've already consumed an INCH of oil. So I have to keep the heat down low. I dress myself and the kids in layers. I know I've mentioned I already did that in the warm house. My layering has reached new heights of lumpy frumpy craziness. It's bayad, people. I'm wearing fucking UNDERWEAR! Then when The Man gets home he happily builds a fire and we all huddle together in the living room like it's little house on the prairie! My gawd it's only October people! It's not even cold yet! The Man loves it of course. He has an internal furnace.
*I bake everyday now. For two reasons. ONE, it means I get to "slave" over a hot oven. Oh delicious hot air! Oh how I love you! I could just crawl right in there and bake myself! TWO, I'm starving. It's because I'm cold. I've lost weight, trying to keep warm. I don't know for sure because I haven't been on a real scale in two years but I can tell. So it's necessary for me to consume muffins and cookies and cake and biscuits regularly throughout the day. The children are thrilled of course. The Man also finds this behavior highly endearing, calling me Betty Crocker for three hours until he figured out I was sending him death glares for it. Then he shrugged and ate another chocolate chip cookie.
*There's no sex in the new house. *gasp* I know. LESS sex than before? CRAZY! The thing is…. I can hardly sleep with my eight year old so far away (upstairs) let alone the baby. So he's still sleeping with us. How can I tuck him in his bed up there and wonder all night when he's going to wander out and fall to his death down the stairs? But he's been sleeping with us for a long time. The real deal breaker is The Man's too tired. He's back to building actual scaffolding. No more sales position for him. He couldn't take all the lying. So he's worn out. I gotta tell ya though, the bulging muscles are not bad. Not bad at all. I swear to you people, he's rippling.
* I went down to the Corbett School the other day with all three kids to pick up the paper work for enrollment. The kind woman at the front desk took one look at me and the three kids and said "If you fill these out here and turn them in, they can start tomorrow" ahahahahahahah! She could see the desperation in my eyes!! Ahaha! I laughed and told her Monday would be fine. The school is beautiful, the hallways are wider than most schools and then they open up to these group areas with tables and stuff between the classrooms. It's hard to describe the way you can just feel right in a place. But we did. And that's what it's all about folks. The school. *wraps quilt tighter around self*
Friday, October 31, 2008
How to Take Your Kids Trick or Treating
How To Take Your Kids Trick-or-Treating
1. Start at a friends' house. Then you can trick-or-treat your way home. Let them spike your cocoa with peppermint schnapps it isn't easy spreading Halloween Cheer these days. The holiday is on it's death bed. Laugh at the friend who's son claimed he just wanted to pass out candy but demands to join us when we leave. Let the friend laugh at you as you leave their house with their kid. Bring at least one other adult with you for maximum merriment. I always bring my sister. We go way back with trick-or-treating.
2. Dress Appropriately. It's usually super cold and often soaking wet. I layer, tights, pants three or four shirts, a coat and some kind of costume on top. Yes, you should wear some kind of costume. It can be as simple as a hat. I don't recommend masks. You can't see. You can't eat your kids' candy and we all know you won't wear it for more than five minutes and then you will be forced to carry it. You people carrying your deflated mask heads around look like idiots. If you ignore this advice ( I did) and try to wear a mask, don't be afraid to leave it on someone's porch looking all spooky. That just spreads the magic of Halloween.
3. If you notice that the mob of annoying teenagers trick-or-treating just ahead of your youngsters is effecting the kids' haul feel free to loudly hustle your kids ahead of them. I'm all for anyone willing to dress up taking part in trick-or-treating but the kids come first. Warning: when you shout at your three trick-or-treaters "Run ahead to the next house, come ..!" the teens are going to know exactly what you're doing and they may even remark about it. But don't worry; the little hussies' who didn't give you a friendly smile, respond to your polite hello or give your kids a chance to dodge their foul mouthed slut tea party in between houses won't have the balls to do anything about it.
4. Teach your children the Halloween Code.
The Halloween Code:
1. Porch light off = don't knock
2. Say "Trick or Treat"
3. Say "Thank-you" and/or "Happy Halloween"
4. No costume= No candy
5. Go ahead and stop the creep in the dark corner from scaring your kids if you know it will result in them crying. He's not going to like it when you turn, point at him and say "You better not scare my kids!" but he could hide better if he takes his job so seriously. Bonus points if you make him feel better by letting him know there's a giant crowd of teens about to arrive.
6. Just like all the other holidays, consider this an opportunity to tell your children outrageous stories. When we were exiting the drive-way of a home that chooses to spread Halloween cheer by blasting smoke into the neighborhood, my little friend Kaden (just turned five) said "Ewwwwww that stinks, that really stinks bad!" I said "Kaden!" rather sharply. Now that I had his attention I said "That's the smell of Halloween!" There was some doubt in his huge eyes but clutching his bag of loot greedily he couldn't argue or I might take the bag for not believing. Hey that's how Santa rolls.
7. Be traditional. Every year we come back to our house through the dark, dark woods, down the super steep hill and across the track. I tried to play a trick on the kids and get them to knock on the door of the pump house. They all moaned and groaned at my lame attempt. Kaden said "No way! That place stinks more than Halloween!"
8. The kids are always surprised and disappointed that they cannot trick-or-treat at their own house. Since The Man was home with Little Man we were all hoping he would still be awake but we should have known better. I was going to slip in and then let them pretend I had been there all along and give them candy but alas we were locked out. So we all went to make ghost noises at The Man's window. When I made it to the front door, The Man was already back in bed but the kids were giggling and one of them said "He's not wearing any clothes!" I told them that was just his costume. They accepted this and didn't even ask what he was supposed to be. Scary is good enough.
9. Half-heartedly check your kids candy even though you don't believe for one second that anyone poisoned it. This is your only opportunity to take inventory. If you spot candy you know you will be tempted to steal make a list and go buy it the next day. Seriously. Observe the way the candy is like money or collectibles to the children. They organize it in elaborate ways and make deals with one another. They are not kidding around here people. When you take their candy you are stealing the very magic of Halloween from their hearts.
10. Don't over-limit the kids' candy or you will just be ashamed of yourself in April when you find it on top of the fridge and have to throw it out. With an otherwise healthy lifestyle, good dental hygiene and a common sense approach to sweets your kids will be fine if they have more than one piece of candy a day.
1. Start at a friends' house. Then you can trick-or-treat your way home. Let them spike your cocoa with peppermint schnapps it isn't easy spreading Halloween Cheer these days. The holiday is on it's death bed. Laugh at the friend who's son claimed he just wanted to pass out candy but demands to join us when we leave. Let the friend laugh at you as you leave their house with their kid. Bring at least one other adult with you for maximum merriment. I always bring my sister. We go way back with trick-or-treating.
2. Dress Appropriately. It's usually super cold and often soaking wet. I layer, tights, pants three or four shirts, a coat and some kind of costume on top. Yes, you should wear some kind of costume. It can be as simple as a hat. I don't recommend masks. You can't see. You can't eat your kids' candy and we all know you won't wear it for more than five minutes and then you will be forced to carry it. You people carrying your deflated mask heads around look like idiots. If you ignore this advice ( I did) and try to wear a mask, don't be afraid to leave it on someone's porch looking all spooky. That just spreads the magic of Halloween.
3. If you notice that the mob of annoying teenagers trick-or-treating just ahead of your youngsters is effecting the kids' haul feel free to loudly hustle your kids ahead of them. I'm all for anyone willing to dress up taking part in trick-or-treating but the kids come first. Warning: when you shout at your three trick-or-treaters "Run ahead to the next house, come ..!" the teens are going to know exactly what you're doing and they may even remark about it. But don't worry; the little hussies' who didn't give you a friendly smile, respond to your polite hello or give your kids a chance to dodge their foul mouthed slut tea party in between houses won't have the balls to do anything about it.
4. Teach your children the Halloween Code.
The Halloween Code:
1. Porch light off = don't knock
2. Say "Trick or Treat"
3. Say "Thank-you" and/or "Happy Halloween"
4. No costume= No candy
5. Go ahead and stop the creep in the dark corner from scaring your kids if you know it will result in them crying. He's not going to like it when you turn, point at him and say "You better not scare my kids!" but he could hide better if he takes his job so seriously. Bonus points if you make him feel better by letting him know there's a giant crowd of teens about to arrive.
6. Just like all the other holidays, consider this an opportunity to tell your children outrageous stories. When we were exiting the drive-way of a home that chooses to spread Halloween cheer by blasting smoke into the neighborhood, my little friend Kaden (just turned five) said "Ewwwwww that stinks, that really stinks bad!" I said "Kaden!" rather sharply. Now that I had his attention I said "That's the smell of Halloween!" There was some doubt in his huge eyes but clutching his bag of loot greedily he couldn't argue or I might take the bag for not believing. Hey that's how Santa rolls.
7. Be traditional. Every year we come back to our house through the dark, dark woods, down the super steep hill and across the track. I tried to play a trick on the kids and get them to knock on the door of the pump house. They all moaned and groaned at my lame attempt. Kaden said "No way! That place stinks more than Halloween!"
8. The kids are always surprised and disappointed that they cannot trick-or-treat at their own house. Since The Man was home with Little Man we were all hoping he would still be awake but we should have known better. I was going to slip in and then let them pretend I had been there all along and give them candy but alas we were locked out. So we all went to make ghost noises at The Man's window. When I made it to the front door, The Man was already back in bed but the kids were giggling and one of them said "He's not wearing any clothes!" I told them that was just his costume. They accepted this and didn't even ask what he was supposed to be. Scary is good enough.
9. Half-heartedly check your kids candy even though you don't believe for one second that anyone poisoned it. This is your only opportunity to take inventory. If you spot candy you know you will be tempted to steal make a list and go buy it the next day. Seriously. Observe the way the candy is like money or collectibles to the children. They organize it in elaborate ways and make deals with one another. They are not kidding around here people. When you take their candy you are stealing the very magic of Halloween from their hearts.
10. Don't over-limit the kids' candy or you will just be ashamed of yourself in April when you find it on top of the fridge and have to throw it out. With an otherwise healthy lifestyle, good dental hygiene and a common sense approach to sweets your kids will be fine if they have more than one piece of candy a day.
How to Pass Out Halloween Candy
How To Hand Out Tricks and Treats
1.) Designate a Door Person. It isn't always a coveted job, I know. My parents worked it in shifts. Mom took us trick-or-treating and Dad passed out candy. When we finally got back home Dad would take anyone still greedy out for the second round. Sometimes an older kid who claims to be "too old" for trick or treating can be bullied into taking the door job. Let them have a friend over and make it fun. If there's no way to leave someone at home and you decide to leave a bowl outside with a nice little sign that says take one please know that the first person who comes along will empty that bowl into their bag. Such is the world. I say hide in the bushes and terrorize the person you catch doing that.
2.) Dress Appropriately. This is a holiday people. Put some kind of costume on. Have some personality, we walked to your house for crying out loud. Dress the house too. A bag of that spider webbing is like $3.00, surely you can spread that around the porch.
3.) Scare the crap out of the big kids. They're counting on you to do this! You're just as likely to be egged or toilet papered for being lame as you are for being "hella-cool". Have fun with the little kids. My dad liked answering the door with a bag of onions and asked the kids if they wanted onions in their treat bag. His favorite story was when some little boy asked "Are they Walla-Walla?" ß Pardon me, that's local humor. He did give them treats after the trick, btw.
4.) Follow the Halloween Code.
6.) Just like all the other holidays consider this an opportunity to warp it and make it your own. Have a theme, push your philosophies whatever. This could be as simple as handing out toothbrushes or popcorn instead of candy. Halloween more than any other holiday fits everyone. So you hate yard work, great you have a spooky trash hole, so you like to be the best go ahead and hand out full size candy bars it gives our journey through the neighborhood natural highs and lows. Of course if you hand my child religious propaganda I will toilet paper your house but that's just part of the magic of Halloween.
7.) Be traditional. I still remember specific houses on my childhood trick-or-treating route by what they did at Halloween. There was an old lady who spent thirty minutes shuffling to the door with a cookie tray of stickers and then patiently waited while children chose their favorite to take home. One guy had a HUGE pumpkin in his window every year and used a sound system to make it talk to the kids. We all looked forward to it every year.
8.) Make cookies and cocoa so that when your crew gets home they have something warm and wonderful waiting for them. Spike your spouses' mug with alcohol so he or she can relax and give you some hot costume action.
9.) If you want to hand-out home made treats be prepared for everyone to throw them away. A better idea is to make a couple of home-made goody bags for the children you know well and give the rest a single Hershey kiss each. Bwaaaahahahahaha!
10.) Buy good Halloween candy. Turn out is getting low and you'll be eating it until someone gives you something better at Christmas. It's okay to close up shop at ten.
1.) Designate a Door Person. It isn't always a coveted job, I know. My parents worked it in shifts. Mom took us trick-or-treating and Dad passed out candy. When we finally got back home Dad would take anyone still greedy out for the second round. Sometimes an older kid who claims to be "too old" for trick or treating can be bullied into taking the door job. Let them have a friend over and make it fun. If there's no way to leave someone at home and you decide to leave a bowl outside with a nice little sign that says take one please know that the first person who comes along will empty that bowl into their bag. Such is the world. I say hide in the bushes and terrorize the person you catch doing that.
2.) Dress Appropriately. This is a holiday people. Put some kind of costume on. Have some personality, we walked to your house for crying out loud. Dress the house too. A bag of that spider webbing is like $3.00, surely you can spread that around the porch.
3.) Scare the crap out of the big kids. They're counting on you to do this! You're just as likely to be egged or toilet papered for being lame as you are for being "hella-cool". Have fun with the little kids. My dad liked answering the door with a bag of onions and asked the kids if they wanted onions in their treat bag. His favorite story was when some little boy asked "Are they Walla-Walla?" ß Pardon me, that's local humor. He did give them treats after the trick, btw.
4.) Follow the Halloween Code.
Halloween Code:
1. If you're against Halloween, fine. Leave the porch light off and we will not bother you. However, do not spend hundreds decorating your house and then decide you're not going to hand out candy. It's cruel.
2. Go ahead and ask what we're supposed to be. We like it.
3. Give us something to thank you for. Sure, we should be grateful for anything (we are begging) but let's face it, dropping one Hershey kiss into our hollow little plastic pumpkin insults everyone involved.
4. No costume = no candy but feel free to offer the grown-ups something to keep their spirits up.
5. Do something about your yipping dogs. Seriously.
5.) Don't scar and/or traumatize little kids. Do I really have to explain? If you must scare little ones dress as Santa. 6.) Just like all the other holidays consider this an opportunity to warp it and make it your own. Have a theme, push your philosophies whatever. This could be as simple as handing out toothbrushes or popcorn instead of candy. Halloween more than any other holiday fits everyone. So you hate yard work, great you have a spooky trash hole, so you like to be the best go ahead and hand out full size candy bars it gives our journey through the neighborhood natural highs and lows. Of course if you hand my child religious propaganda I will toilet paper your house but that's just part of the magic of Halloween.
7.) Be traditional. I still remember specific houses on my childhood trick-or-treating route by what they did at Halloween. There was an old lady who spent thirty minutes shuffling to the door with a cookie tray of stickers and then patiently waited while children chose their favorite to take home. One guy had a HUGE pumpkin in his window every year and used a sound system to make it talk to the kids. We all looked forward to it every year.
8.) Make cookies and cocoa so that when your crew gets home they have something warm and wonderful waiting for them. Spike your spouses' mug with alcohol so he or she can relax and give you some hot costume action.
9.) If you want to hand-out home made treats be prepared for everyone to throw them away. A better idea is to make a couple of home-made goody bags for the children you know well and give the rest a single Hershey kiss each. Bwaaaahahahahaha!
10.) Buy good Halloween candy. Turn out is getting low and you'll be eating it until someone gives you something better at Christmas. It's okay to close up shop at ten.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Getting Back on the Blogging Horse
Last night, on my way home from dropping D at her apartment I stopped at Safeway to get some milk and smokes. At check out I asked the manager "Can I get cigarettes here or do I need to go to customer service?"
"Here's fine" he said and he rang my items up and asked "What kind to you want?"
"Two packs of Marlboro Ultra Lights, in the box please." I said. Clearly. Not forcefully. But clearly.
He brought back two packs of Marlboro Ultra Lights MENTHOL. The boxes were a pretty emeraldy green. I could see he brought me the wrong cigarettes right away. He finished ring me up. I paid with a debit card. All of this was time I didn't say a word.
Not a word.
And I don't know why. It felt rude. To point out his error. To be any more trouble.
So. I guess I smoke menthol now.
SO many issues. *nods* SO SO many. And of course it's a metaphor. And of course it still really happened. and no. I don't like menthol. Not more than one. and yes I will smoke them all anyway.
I'm a trooper like that.
"Here's fine" he said and he rang my items up and asked "What kind to you want?"
"Two packs of Marlboro Ultra Lights, in the box please." I said. Clearly. Not forcefully. But clearly.
He brought back two packs of Marlboro Ultra Lights MENTHOL. The boxes were a pretty emeraldy green. I could see he brought me the wrong cigarettes right away. He finished ring me up. I paid with a debit card. All of this was time I didn't say a word.
Not a word.
And I don't know why. It felt rude. To point out his error. To be any more trouble.
So. I guess I smoke menthol now.
SO many issues. *nods* SO SO many. And of course it's a metaphor. And of course it still really happened. and no. I don't like menthol. Not more than one. and yes I will smoke them all anyway.
I'm a trooper like that.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Place Signature Here
The Man was pretty annoyed when he went to turn in the application to live in the New House. They told him he had to have me fill one out separately and pay another application fee. Because we're not married.
"Tell me again why we don't just get married?" he said the way he does anytime it costs us extra money to remain separate individuals under the law.
"It only seems ridonkulous because I'm a non-person." I told him.
"What?"
"I don't exist on paper. Not really. No job to check. No former addresses. No credit. No ownership. Nothing for them to see. I'm a non-person. I'm just putting the same information as you on the other application sheet. That parts annoying, but they have no idea I'm a non-person until they look and find out. Besides, if we were married it would probably just be one bigger fee. It's still two people to check."
This afternoon we have to go sign papers. The lease or whatever.
Whatever. I mean. It's a line to sign. It's not like it freaks me out. It's not like I can't BE a real person. It's not like we're not already doing it. It's not like it matters that my name will be there on the actual document this time. Doesn't change anything. Just my name scrawled on a line. It doesn't mean anything.
I'm not freaking out about it.
I'm not.
********** Insert hours passing and the office visit **********
The lease is eight pages long!!!!!! So there we are in the tiny front entry of a house made into an office with three children in FULL afternoon mode (moms will know), trying to read 8 pages of legalese. And when I say WE… I mean ME.
My circuits fried. I hate leases. I hate signing. I hate all of it.
Here's the thing. It's not that I would ever leave the lawn uncut. It's not like I would let the kids leave their toys lying all over the front yard or remove the smoke detectors or even break any of the other rules detailed within the eight looong pages. As a matter of fact, I'm probably the renter that fucks it for everyone else. After me they probably think of NEW rules based on how fucking great a renter I am just to make sure the next renter does as great a job.
But I do not want to sign something that says I HAVE TO. And I don't want to sign something that details for eight pages exactly how quickly and deeply they're going to ream me should they decide I'm not up to par.
FUCK THAT.
Plus there's a couple pretty serious issues I wont describe here.
********** Insert intense conversation with The Man that reveals just how freaking crushed he will be if we do not move into THAT house, THIS weekend. **********
"Fine. I'll just sign it. But if shit fucking hit's the fan I don't want to get one tiny bit of grief. Not one bit!"
I was thinking I might get drunk for the signing, but I'm afraid I'll wake up married or something.
"Tell me again why we don't just get married?" he said the way he does anytime it costs us extra money to remain separate individuals under the law.
"It only seems ridonkulous because I'm a non-person." I told him.
"What?"
"I don't exist on paper. Not really. No job to check. No former addresses. No credit. No ownership. Nothing for them to see. I'm a non-person. I'm just putting the same information as you on the other application sheet. That parts annoying, but they have no idea I'm a non-person until they look and find out. Besides, if we were married it would probably just be one bigger fee. It's still two people to check."
This afternoon we have to go sign papers. The lease or whatever.
Whatever. I mean. It's a line to sign. It's not like it freaks me out. It's not like I can't BE a real person. It's not like we're not already doing it. It's not like it matters that my name will be there on the actual document this time. Doesn't change anything. Just my name scrawled on a line. It doesn't mean anything.
I'm not freaking out about it.
I'm not.
********** Insert hours passing and the office visit **********
The lease is eight pages long!!!!!! So there we are in the tiny front entry of a house made into an office with three children in FULL afternoon mode (moms will know), trying to read 8 pages of legalese. And when I say WE… I mean ME.
My circuits fried. I hate leases. I hate signing. I hate all of it.
Here's the thing. It's not that I would ever leave the lawn uncut. It's not like I would let the kids leave their toys lying all over the front yard or remove the smoke detectors or even break any of the other rules detailed within the eight looong pages. As a matter of fact, I'm probably the renter that fucks it for everyone else. After me they probably think of NEW rules based on how fucking great a renter I am just to make sure the next renter does as great a job.
But I do not want to sign something that says I HAVE TO. And I don't want to sign something that details for eight pages exactly how quickly and deeply they're going to ream me should they decide I'm not up to par.
FUCK THAT.
Plus there's a couple pretty serious issues I wont describe here.
********** Insert intense conversation with The Man that reveals just how freaking crushed he will be if we do not move into THAT house, THIS weekend. **********
"Fine. I'll just sign it. But if shit fucking hit's the fan I don't want to get one tiny bit of grief. Not one bit!"
I was thinking I might get drunk for the signing, but I'm afraid I'll wake up married or something.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Almost Cousins
Sooo… I had this cousin. Except he wasn't REALLY my cousin. My uncle was dating his mom. And they never married so we never became family under the law. Anyway… we were sort of cousins.
I met him when I moved to Idaho, the summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school. My parents split up and my mom moved us to our grandparents house. Everyone lived at my grandparents house. It was a hippy commune. Without any hippies. Or communing. All the cousins stayed over a lot. Glad to see us all the time since we'd only ever seen them on summer vacations prior to this.
We would hang out. Go swimming. Spit watermelon seeds at one another. St off firecrackers in the pasture.
And camp in the yard.
One night, under the giant starry Idaho sky I ended up in the tent alone with The Step-cousin. I don't know where the actual cousins were. (fuck you, where WERE you people?) So there we were. In our sleeping bags. I suppose we were talking about something but I don't remember what. He was a real dip shit. Probably something really lame. Then the talking sort of slowed. The way it does when you're going to sleep. It was hot so the bags were not zipped.
Yeah. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his dick.
"What are you doing?" I said Of course what I was thinking was, Oh dear gawd now we're over the line and I don't know how to get back to the other side without drama. And also, what the hell is wrong with his dick? It was bent at an astonishing angle. This was the first dick I ever had my hand on without any fabric between us. and only the second if you counted that.
He didn't answer me with any words, he was making some odd grunting and groaning noises that implied we were already in the thick of … I didn't know what. His hand was still holding my wrist, his grip leaving an Indian burn as I twisted and turned my hand to escape. Finally I wrapped my hand around him and started to apply pressure, increasing until he relaxed his grip on my wrist and I regained control of my hand, yanking it out of his sleeping bag. "Dude, what do you think you're doing?"
"I don't know. You grabbed my dick."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Fucking tease."
"Dumbass" I crawled out of the tent to find an actual cousin.
About a week later he approached me. "So we start school in a few days."
"Yeah. So."
"I just wanted to let you know we can't hang out at school."
I stared at him.
"'Cause I sort of already have friends, ya know?"
I laughed at him. "So you want me to act like I don't know you at school?"
"It's not like that, it's just…."
"Yeah. That's not going to be a problem, dude."
I'm still wondering who the fuck those friends were that he was so worried about. I never saw them.
Anyway. The POINT is… watch out for THOSE cousins. *nods*
I met him when I moved to Idaho, the summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school. My parents split up and my mom moved us to our grandparents house. Everyone lived at my grandparents house. It was a hippy commune. Without any hippies. Or communing. All the cousins stayed over a lot. Glad to see us all the time since we'd only ever seen them on summer vacations prior to this.
We would hang out. Go swimming. Spit watermelon seeds at one another. St off firecrackers in the pasture.
And camp in the yard.
One night, under the giant starry Idaho sky I ended up in the tent alone with The Step-cousin. I don't know where the actual cousins were. (fuck you, where WERE you people?) So there we were. In our sleeping bags. I suppose we were talking about something but I don't remember what. He was a real dip shit. Probably something really lame. Then the talking sort of slowed. The way it does when you're going to sleep. It was hot so the bags were not zipped.
Yeah. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his dick.
"What are you doing?" I said Of course what I was thinking was, Oh dear gawd now we're over the line and I don't know how to get back to the other side without drama. And also, what the hell is wrong with his dick? It was bent at an astonishing angle. This was the first dick I ever had my hand on without any fabric between us. and only the second if you counted that.
He didn't answer me with any words, he was making some odd grunting and groaning noises that implied we were already in the thick of … I didn't know what. His hand was still holding my wrist, his grip leaving an Indian burn as I twisted and turned my hand to escape. Finally I wrapped my hand around him and started to apply pressure, increasing until he relaxed his grip on my wrist and I regained control of my hand, yanking it out of his sleeping bag. "Dude, what do you think you're doing?"
"I don't know. You grabbed my dick."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Fucking tease."
"Dumbass" I crawled out of the tent to find an actual cousin.
About a week later he approached me. "So we start school in a few days."
"Yeah. So."
"I just wanted to let you know we can't hang out at school."
I stared at him.
"'Cause I sort of already have friends, ya know?"
I laughed at him. "So you want me to act like I don't know you at school?"
"It's not like that, it's just…."
"Yeah. That's not going to be a problem, dude."
I'm still wondering who the fuck those friends were that he was so worried about. I never saw them.
Anyway. The POINT is… watch out for THOSE cousins. *nods*
Monday, October 20, 2008
Not Today
I keep hoping someone will ask me; "You know what your problem is?"
Cause I do. Almost all of them. I would say all of them but I'm leaving room for error. Cause once in awhile I miss something major. Another of my problems.
But mostly. My biggest problem. Is.
Acceptance.
Letting Go.
Oh I fake it. I pretend. I'm fucking BRILLIANT at faking it. I fool myself sometimes!
But down below….. In the darkest ugliest places in me. I'm SCREAMING.
Cause it's not fair.
Cause I want MORE.
Cause it's MINE.
*stomps foot and cries*
As long as I can remember I've had this battle in me. This little bit of me that NEEDS to think that right wins, that true love can conquer anything, that somewhere in this mess of a life and world there's a reason, there's something that makes it all worth it at the end. The rest of me knows it's a bunch of shit.
I STOMP ON YOU LITTLE BIT! STOMP STOMP STOMP!
Because that little bit has hurt me more than anything ever.
And because the truth is. What I want has always been wrong. Gets more wrong with every passing day. Because the truth is. True love may not be what I thought it would be. Because THE TRUTH is that it may be that you can't know if it's worth it UNTIL the end.
And that's not today.
Cause I do. Almost all of them. I would say all of them but I'm leaving room for error. Cause once in awhile I miss something major. Another of my problems.
But mostly. My biggest problem. Is.
Acceptance.
Letting Go.
Oh I fake it. I pretend. I'm fucking BRILLIANT at faking it. I fool myself sometimes!
But down below….. In the darkest ugliest places in me. I'm SCREAMING.
Cause it's not fair.
Cause I want MORE.
Cause it's MINE.
*stomps foot and cries*
As long as I can remember I've had this battle in me. This little bit of me that NEEDS to think that right wins, that true love can conquer anything, that somewhere in this mess of a life and world there's a reason, there's something that makes it all worth it at the end. The rest of me knows it's a bunch of shit.
I STOMP ON YOU LITTLE BIT! STOMP STOMP STOMP!
Because that little bit has hurt me more than anything ever.
And because the truth is. What I want has always been wrong. Gets more wrong with every passing day. Because the truth is. True love may not be what I thought it would be. Because THE TRUTH is that it may be that you can't know if it's worth it UNTIL the end.
And that's not today.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Baby Girl's First Poem
Thoughts on Runners
Some people run in the street.
Some people won't take a seat.
Some people run in a scurry.
And some people are in no hurry.
And nobody gets anywhere at all.
*nods* that's my girl.
Some people run in the street.
Some people won't take a seat.
Some people run in a scurry.
And some people are in no hurry.
And nobody gets anywhere at all.
*nods* that's my girl.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Boxes and Sockses
The Man had to come home and get his laptop this morning. He said he was so excited about packing his lunch he forgot it. We were hanging in the kitchen between Spelling and Language Mechanics.
"A little over a week and we can move!" he said excitedly mid hug. I stepped back and stared at him incredulously.
"Ummm HELLO!" I gestured around us at all our shit. "No boxes, no move!"
"What are you talking about?"
"We need boxes! I could be packing RIGHT NOW!"
"Don't you remember last time we moved?" he was so relaxed standing there leaning on the counter. "In one weekend, we just put stuff in boxes and I moved it across the street in the wheelbarrow!"
"IN ONE WEEKEND? That's how you remember that? I was packing for weeks before that!! You don't remember that? That weekend we packed all the things we use daily! All the other shit; the books and games and EVERYTHING else, was packed and labeled by room, BY ME weeks in advance!"
"What?!"
"YES!"
"So, you want boxes baby?"
"Yeah. It's 'cause I WAAAANT boxes. Dew(ed) is such an anal butt hole wanting to put some stuff in boxes so we can MOVE."
"Oh. I'll get you boxes." he grinned at me, looking me up and down. "Hey! Are you wearing my socks?"
"Yeah. I need more socks, mine are getting holey. So I put your socks on over mine and hope the holes in yours don't line up with the holes in mine."
"What the heck is going on around here! No boxes, no socks!"
"I KNOW! It's like the magic fairy that used to do everything like buy socks and get boxes is busy home schooling or something!" I grinned.
"Well, if we have to pick one I choose the box over the socks. A box is always better than a sock." ahahahahah! I laughed at him.
"Wait. You never… not in these socks, right?"
"NO! What am I fifteen!?"
"Whew! That's a relief. So, you heading back to work?"
"Yeah."
"BYE DADDY" everyone yelled.
************************ten minutes***************************
THUMP THUMP on the outside of the garage door. It's The Man. Throwing boxes at the garage. *grin*
We're moving. *nods*
"A little over a week and we can move!" he said excitedly mid hug. I stepped back and stared at him incredulously.
"Ummm HELLO!" I gestured around us at all our shit. "No boxes, no move!"
"What are you talking about?"
"We need boxes! I could be packing RIGHT NOW!"
"Don't you remember last time we moved?" he was so relaxed standing there leaning on the counter. "In one weekend, we just put stuff in boxes and I moved it across the street in the wheelbarrow!"
"IN ONE WEEKEND? That's how you remember that? I was packing for weeks before that!! You don't remember that? That weekend we packed all the things we use daily! All the other shit; the books and games and EVERYTHING else, was packed and labeled by room, BY ME weeks in advance!"
"What?!"
"YES!"
"So, you want boxes baby?"
"Yeah. It's 'cause I WAAAANT boxes. Dew(ed) is such an anal butt hole wanting to put some stuff in boxes so we can MOVE."
"Oh. I'll get you boxes." he grinned at me, looking me up and down. "Hey! Are you wearing my socks?"
"Yeah. I need more socks, mine are getting holey. So I put your socks on over mine and hope the holes in yours don't line up with the holes in mine."
"What the heck is going on around here! No boxes, no socks!"
"I KNOW! It's like the magic fairy that used to do everything like buy socks and get boxes is busy home schooling or something!" I grinned.
"Well, if we have to pick one I choose the box over the socks. A box is always better than a sock." ahahahahah! I laughed at him.
"Wait. You never… not in these socks, right?"
"NO! What am I fifteen!?"
"Whew! That's a relief. So, you heading back to work?"
"Yeah."
"BYE DADDY" everyone yelled.
************************ten minutes***************************
THUMP THUMP on the outside of the garage door. It's The Man. Throwing boxes at the garage. *grin*
We're moving. *nods*
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Dew Be Random
WHEN is the last time we had some random Dew(ed)???? I KNOW, too long right?
Oh shut-up let's pretend writer's block is cool, okay?
So. I'm moving. That's the good news. Why? Why would I moooove?
-I suck at home school. I suck at home school because it's difficult to concentrate on spelling tests when fantasizing about dropping my kids off at school. Look! Look at them with their backpacks and how sweet is that note from mom in the lunch box? Yeah. So sweet.
-I suck at home school because even when it's fantastic.. It's not. Like today. We had an engrossing history lesson about Giatto. We were on our way back in the house, Lil' Dew in the lead and Niece is saying "I really liked that history lesson Aunt Bear" and then Lil Dew is shouting "MOOOOM! Little Man is on the counter top stealing cookies off the fridge!! Yeah. So that's why he didn't bug us.
-I suck at home school because I'm a nazi. Seriously. I can't fucking stop myself. MORE MORE MORE! BETTER BETTER BETTER!! FASTER FASTER FASTER!!! Jeezus I'm difficult to live with. Oh sure. Make a joke about my sex life. I dare you. *on the edge*
So. I'm moving. That's the bad news. Why? Why would I moooove?
-Sweet mother of mercy I have to pack. All this shit! All the crap that's been stacking up in drawers and cupboards and closets and EVERYWHERE since Little Man was born. Yes I blame Little Man. I'm not kidding. It's the number three. Don't have three kids. And if your niece is over more hours than not that counts as your second kid so don't think you can slide just one more baby into the mix without serious consequences! The fact that one of those consequences is unending ADORABLENESS is neither here nor there.
Hmmmm thought there might be more bad but I gots nothing. And really packing kicks ocd ass. Everyone knows that. SO yeah. All good. I'm going to get rid of all kinds of crap. I LOVE a fresh start. I do. It's soul cleansing.
I'm moving. A week from Friday.
SO SOON?
Yeah. That's how The Man and I operate. He states something crazy that I want nothing to do with. (moving to the boonies) and then I mull for a year. Then I research. Find the closest boonies with fanfuckingtastic school district and say "okay, this is where we'll do that." and then he mulls. And then one day five or so years later we look up houses on the internet, like the first one we see, go see it the next afternoon, apply, get approved and BAM! It's crazy boony dream time.
Of course… this changes NOTHING for you guys. Because OF COURSE I made sure that even though it's the mofo BOONIES I will continue to have high speed internet access. There's no way in hell I'd go back to dial up. (sorry IN-FIN-COCK, it's just the truth)
So. You have any boxes?
Oh shut-up let's pretend writer's block is cool, okay?
So. I'm moving. That's the good news. Why? Why would I moooove?
-I suck at home school. I suck at home school because it's difficult to concentrate on spelling tests when fantasizing about dropping my kids off at school. Look! Look at them with their backpacks and how sweet is that note from mom in the lunch box? Yeah. So sweet.
-I suck at home school because even when it's fantastic.. It's not. Like today. We had an engrossing history lesson about Giatto. We were on our way back in the house, Lil' Dew in the lead and Niece is saying "I really liked that history lesson Aunt Bear" and then Lil Dew is shouting "MOOOOM! Little Man is on the counter top stealing cookies off the fridge!! Yeah. So that's why he didn't bug us.
-I suck at home school because I'm a nazi. Seriously. I can't fucking stop myself. MORE MORE MORE! BETTER BETTER BETTER!! FASTER FASTER FASTER!!! Jeezus I'm difficult to live with. Oh sure. Make a joke about my sex life. I dare you. *on the edge*
So. I'm moving. That's the bad news. Why? Why would I moooove?
-Sweet mother of mercy I have to pack. All this shit! All the crap that's been stacking up in drawers and cupboards and closets and EVERYWHERE since Little Man was born. Yes I blame Little Man. I'm not kidding. It's the number three. Don't have three kids. And if your niece is over more hours than not that counts as your second kid so don't think you can slide just one more baby into the mix without serious consequences! The fact that one of those consequences is unending ADORABLENESS is neither here nor there.
Hmmmm thought there might be more bad but I gots nothing. And really packing kicks ocd ass. Everyone knows that. SO yeah. All good. I'm going to get rid of all kinds of crap. I LOVE a fresh start. I do. It's soul cleansing.
I'm moving. A week from Friday.
SO SOON?
Yeah. That's how The Man and I operate. He states something crazy that I want nothing to do with. (moving to the boonies) and then I mull for a year. Then I research. Find the closest boonies with fanfuckingtastic school district and say "okay, this is where we'll do that." and then he mulls. And then one day five or so years later we look up houses on the internet, like the first one we see, go see it the next afternoon, apply, get approved and BAM! It's crazy boony dream time.
Of course… this changes NOTHING for you guys. Because OF COURSE I made sure that even though it's the mofo BOONIES I will continue to have high speed internet access. There's no way in hell I'd go back to dial up. (sorry IN-FIN-COCK, it's just the truth)
So. You have any boxes?
Monday, October 13, 2008
The Key is to Forget
It was only after I tried to push the door open that I realized I would need a key to get in. After digging though the bottomless pit that is my purse I remembered The Man had pulled my car off the paved portion of the drive-way so the girls could roller-skate earlier that day. He must have put the keys in the bowl instead of my purse. I rang the bell. *nothing* I went to our window and trampled my plants to knock on the master bedroom window, hustling to meet him back at the front door.
"Hi!" I stepped in and he closed the door behind me. He was all hunched over with a sleepy face. "Are you awake?" I asked him while I struggled to yank my boots off. He looked cute there in his underpants, squinting at me.
"Ummm… yeah."
"I know, but…" I finally got my foot loose from the second boot and flung it on the floor. I unhooked my bra and pulled my shirts off over my head, dropping it all on the floor and unbuttoning my skirt, sliding it with my underwear all the way down and kicking myself loose. "Are you awake?"
"yeeeeaaah. I'm awake."
"Well look lively or something." I laughed at him and slid my arms up around his neck. With my body flush against his I soon noticed his condition and added, "at least SOMEONE is paying attention." directly in his ear.
*fade to black*
Yeah. That's all I've got. *shrug* I tried. Hmmm….
"I'm glad we've managed to stay together as long as we have;" The Man said after. Still wrapped around him and in his lap, I was resting my head on his shoulder, breathing him in through the skin on his neck. "You're a lot of fun." he finished his thought. I laughed hard enough to give him a jolt or two and I had to tighten my grip to keep from losing him.
"No! Not yet! I'm going to leak all over as soon as you pull the plug!" I squealed at him. He put an arm under my rear and used his other against the couch to balance us as he stood up. "What are you doing?? Where are we going?" I asked, holding on for dear life. He rushed us over to the bathroom and held me dangling over the sink with me laughing hysterically at him. "Nooooooo! I'm gross, I have bar all over me anyway, I'm just going to shower." I extracted myself from him carefully, sliding till my feet reached the safety of the bathroom floor. He started off in the direction of the bedroom. "Hey baby?" I called after him. "I'm glad you woke up."
"Me too." he grinned at me. "I'm glad I "forgot" to put your keys in your purse."
"Hi!" I stepped in and he closed the door behind me. He was all hunched over with a sleepy face. "Are you awake?" I asked him while I struggled to yank my boots off. He looked cute there in his underpants, squinting at me.
"Ummm… yeah."
"I know, but…" I finally got my foot loose from the second boot and flung it on the floor. I unhooked my bra and pulled my shirts off over my head, dropping it all on the floor and unbuttoning my skirt, sliding it with my underwear all the way down and kicking myself loose. "Are you awake?"
"yeeeeaaah. I'm awake."
"Well look lively or something." I laughed at him and slid my arms up around his neck. With my body flush against his I soon noticed his condition and added, "at least SOMEONE is paying attention." directly in his ear.
*fade to black*
Yeah. That's all I've got. *shrug* I tried. Hmmm….
"I'm glad we've managed to stay together as long as we have;" The Man said after. Still wrapped around him and in his lap, I was resting my head on his shoulder, breathing him in through the skin on his neck. "You're a lot of fun." he finished his thought. I laughed hard enough to give him a jolt or two and I had to tighten my grip to keep from losing him.
"No! Not yet! I'm going to leak all over as soon as you pull the plug!" I squealed at him. He put an arm under my rear and used his other against the couch to balance us as he stood up. "What are you doing?? Where are we going?" I asked, holding on for dear life. He rushed us over to the bathroom and held me dangling over the sink with me laughing hysterically at him. "Nooooooo! I'm gross, I have bar all over me anyway, I'm just going to shower." I extracted myself from him carefully, sliding till my feet reached the safety of the bathroom floor. He started off in the direction of the bedroom. "Hey baby?" I called after him. "I'm glad you woke up."
"Me too." he grinned at me. "I'm glad I "forgot" to put your keys in your purse."
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Fuck Duck's
When we left Dukes I was definitely warm and fuzzy. She had my arm, pulling me through the crowd on the way out the front door. "Ahahahah! Look at them! This is almost as funny as seeing homies in Idaho!"
"Shshshs!" She laughed "You're drunk."
"I'm not drunk…I can just feel all my skin tingle." We were out in the parking lot by now.
"Shoot I have to pee." she told me "I'm going to have to go out here."
"WHAT?" I was giggling madly. "Okay, but wait a second… there's people everywhere."
"sssshhhh! You're so loud!" she admonished.
" I AM? FUCK. Okay, Well how 'bout I'm the distraction?"
"YEAH! Go farther away though." she waved me farther and farther out into the parking lot, my boots crunching gravel noisily all the way.
"Whoooooo!" I hollered, starting to dance with a hand on the front of the waistband on my skirt. "FUCK DUKES!" *series of pelvic thrusting* She was hysterical by now.
"That is some funny shit." she said, crouched down next to her car. "Keep GOING!"
*crazy mini skirt dancing bordering on full strip tease*
Finally she appeared to be done so I made my way back toward the car. "I thought you were going to fall over in your own puddle there for awhile, are you sure you should be driving?"
"I was laughing at you, I'm not drunk."
"Good, 'cause that cowboy I danced with earlier wants to get married, he's on his way over here RIGHT now!" We jumped in fast and bolted, waving out the window and shrugging like, Oh dear the car's already moving can't stop now!
"Shshshs!" She laughed "You're drunk."
"I'm not drunk…I can just feel all my skin tingle." We were out in the parking lot by now.
"Shoot I have to pee." she told me "I'm going to have to go out here."
"WHAT?" I was giggling madly. "Okay, but wait a second… there's people everywhere."
"sssshhhh! You're so loud!" she admonished.
" I AM? FUCK. Okay, Well how 'bout I'm the distraction?"
"YEAH! Go farther away though." she waved me farther and farther out into the parking lot, my boots crunching gravel noisily all the way.
"Whoooooo!" I hollered, starting to dance with a hand on the front of the waistband on my skirt. "FUCK DUKES!" *series of pelvic thrusting* She was hysterical by now.
"That is some funny shit." she said, crouched down next to her car. "Keep GOING!"
*crazy mini skirt dancing bordering on full strip tease*
Finally she appeared to be done so I made my way back toward the car. "I thought you were going to fall over in your own puddle there for awhile, are you sure you should be driving?"
"I was laughing at you, I'm not drunk."
"Good, 'cause that cowboy I danced with earlier wants to get married, he's on his way over here RIGHT now!" We jumped in fast and bolted, waving out the window and shrugging like, Oh dear the car's already moving can't stop now!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Catch
The man and I do have a groove. I know this. Our record needle has only been jumping around because we don't know what groove it is, not because we don't have one. Yesterday evening we had slipped back in that groove. Or I thought so.
Having just finished putting groceries away together, I was starting dinner and he was leaning against the kitchen counter, going over the receipt. I don't remember the conversation exactly. Something about the cost of canned mixed nuts and whether he should be consuming so many nuts considering he has the blood pressure of a 400 lb elderly man. He was fretting the cost. I was pointing out that perhaps just eating fewer would be a good compromise. Then the discussion shifted to the cost of Mt. Dew. I of course, asserted that the cost of dew doesn't even compare to the cost of a mental health facility.
At this point I realized I didn't need one of the onions I had out. I grabbed the spare onion (about the size of a baseball) and I said "Guess I don't need this one" and pelted the onion over-hand directly at The Man. We made eye contact while it was in the air. It thudded against his shoulder and then the floor. "Heeeeey!" I said, laughing. "That's not how it works! I toss things at you and you catch them, remember?"
"I'm looking at the receipt!"
"That never used to matter! I've always been able to throw things in your general direction and no matter how crazy the throw or distracted you appeared to be you would always catch them!"
"I was looking at the receipt!"
"We had eye contact! While it was in the air!" I shook my head tsking, "I've thrown a diaper at you from the living room through the hole in the kitchen wall while you were making dinner and you caught it." I stared at him with my what the hell posture, "This is a sad day, Man. If you don't get what I'm saying and I can't throw things at you… what do we even have?" We laughed.
Later, after dinner, we had a science project to work on. The girls had to dissect a fish. After we were done poking and prodding and playing with the fish The Man grabbed a plastic bag out of the recycling bag and held it open so I could slide the fish off the plate into it. There was a long moment when I was holding the plate tilted into the bag, trying to coax the fish guts off the plate.
"You're not going to throw out that plate." The Man said. My shoulders slumped.
"He's BACK!" Big D laughed and shouted. "Back on track now! He knew exactly what you were thinking!!" I nodded.
"I was thinking the plate couldn't be saved."
"And he KNEW!"
"Yeah. It was good." I was rinsing the plate in the sink by now. "But I like throwing things at him better."
Having just finished putting groceries away together, I was starting dinner and he was leaning against the kitchen counter, going over the receipt. I don't remember the conversation exactly. Something about the cost of canned mixed nuts and whether he should be consuming so many nuts considering he has the blood pressure of a 400 lb elderly man. He was fretting the cost. I was pointing out that perhaps just eating fewer would be a good compromise. Then the discussion shifted to the cost of Mt. Dew. I of course, asserted that the cost of dew doesn't even compare to the cost of a mental health facility.
At this point I realized I didn't need one of the onions I had out. I grabbed the spare onion (about the size of a baseball) and I said "Guess I don't need this one" and pelted the onion over-hand directly at The Man. We made eye contact while it was in the air. It thudded against his shoulder and then the floor. "Heeeeey!" I said, laughing. "That's not how it works! I toss things at you and you catch them, remember?"
"I'm looking at the receipt!"
"That never used to matter! I've always been able to throw things in your general direction and no matter how crazy the throw or distracted you appeared to be you would always catch them!"
"I was looking at the receipt!"
"We had eye contact! While it was in the air!" I shook my head tsking, "I've thrown a diaper at you from the living room through the hole in the kitchen wall while you were making dinner and you caught it." I stared at him with my what the hell posture, "This is a sad day, Man. If you don't get what I'm saying and I can't throw things at you… what do we even have?" We laughed.
Later, after dinner, we had a science project to work on. The girls had to dissect a fish. After we were done poking and prodding and playing with the fish The Man grabbed a plastic bag out of the recycling bag and held it open so I could slide the fish off the plate into it. There was a long moment when I was holding the plate tilted into the bag, trying to coax the fish guts off the plate.
"You're not going to throw out that plate." The Man said. My shoulders slumped.
"He's BACK!" Big D laughed and shouted. "Back on track now! He knew exactly what you were thinking!!" I nodded.
"I was thinking the plate couldn't be saved."
"And he KNEW!"
"Yeah. It was good." I was rinsing the plate in the sink by now. "But I like throwing things at him better."
Thursday, October 9, 2008
The Edge
It could be that I'm just hungry for the edge.
Of reason.
Of life and death.
Of love.
It could be that my idea of love is so tangled up with loss that I can never have it.
As if you could ever have the sky.
There was that time where the two rivers were crashing together, on the rocks with your coat spread over them. Sitting there astride you I saw you lose yourself to me, saw that it somehow erased me and ignored me at once. Bent over I gripped your hair in my fingers, my mouth locked over yours, attempting to pull you up to the lofty perch you placed me on. Using your mouth as a kite grips the hand of it's flyer with the very string keeping it earthbound.
As if you could ever have the sky.
It could be that my idea of love is so tangled up with loss that I can never have it.
Of love.
Of life and death.
Of reason.
It could be that I'm just hungry for the edge.
Of reason.
Of life and death.
Of love.
It could be that my idea of love is so tangled up with loss that I can never have it.
As if you could ever have the sky.
There was that time where the two rivers were crashing together, on the rocks with your coat spread over them. Sitting there astride you I saw you lose yourself to me, saw that it somehow erased me and ignored me at once. Bent over I gripped your hair in my fingers, my mouth locked over yours, attempting to pull you up to the lofty perch you placed me on. Using your mouth as a kite grips the hand of it's flyer with the very string keeping it earthbound.
As if you could ever have the sky.
It could be that my idea of love is so tangled up with loss that I can never have it.
Of love.
Of life and death.
Of reason.
It could be that I'm just hungry for the edge.
The Edge
It could be that I'm just hungry for the edge.
Of reason.
Of life and death.
Of love.
It could be that my idea of love is so tangled up with loss that I can never have it.
As if you could ever have the sky.
There was that time where the two rivers were crashing together, on the rocks with your coat spread over them. Sitting there astride you I saw you lose yourself to me, saw that it somehow erased me and ignored me at once. Bent over I gripped your hair in my fingers, my mouth locked over yours, attempting to pull you up to the lofty perch you placed me on. Using your mouth as a kite grips the hand of it's flyer with the very string keeping it earthbound.
As if you could ever have the sky.
It could be that my idea of love is so tangled up with loss that I can never have it.
Of love.
Of life and death.
Of reason.
It could be that I'm just hungry for the edge.
Of reason.
Of life and death.
Of love.
It could be that my idea of love is so tangled up with loss that I can never have it.
As if you could ever have the sky.
There was that time where the two rivers were crashing together, on the rocks with your coat spread over them. Sitting there astride you I saw you lose yourself to me, saw that it somehow erased me and ignored me at once. Bent over I gripped your hair in my fingers, my mouth locked over yours, attempting to pull you up to the lofty perch you placed me on. Using your mouth as a kite grips the hand of it's flyer with the very string keeping it earthbound.
As if you could ever have the sky.
It could be that my idea of love is so tangled up with loss that I can never have it.
Of love.
Of life and death.
Of reason.
It could be that I'm just hungry for the edge.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
The Best Interest of the Child
"In the best interest of the child," our family courts have made the issue of child support completely separate from the issue of child visitation, now dubbed "parenting time."
It's easy to understand why they might do that. Certainly a person's economic status should not preclude them from the right to parent their child. It most certainly would not be good for children to veto their time with a parent because of some unnamed inability to support them.
Errr… wait. What the fuck?
So we're saying that you can go right ahead and "parent" without supporting your child in any conceivable way?
SINCE WHEN?
Maybe since we all decided that we can do whatever we want and someone ELSE will pay for it.
This burden falls first to custodial parents. The ones who have to make supporting their offspring a top priority and having "parenting time" a secondary one. Because if you do not support your children financially they will not have anything to eat, anywhere to sleep, any medical care to keep them healthy, any clothes to protect them from the elements. All of which they need first to survive, long before the argument of "their best interest" can even begin.
And if that custodial parent cannot afford to do this.. Who pays for it?
You do. And I do. And every tax payer does.
Just some thoughts. *puts soap box away*
I really shouldn't be allowed to get the mail. Just pisses me off.
It's easy to understand why they might do that. Certainly a person's economic status should not preclude them from the right to parent their child. It most certainly would not be good for children to veto their time with a parent because of some unnamed inability to support them.
Errr… wait. What the fuck?
So we're saying that you can go right ahead and "parent" without supporting your child in any conceivable way?
SINCE WHEN?
Maybe since we all decided that we can do whatever we want and someone ELSE will pay for it.
This burden falls first to custodial parents. The ones who have to make supporting their offspring a top priority and having "parenting time" a secondary one. Because if you do not support your children financially they will not have anything to eat, anywhere to sleep, any medical care to keep them healthy, any clothes to protect them from the elements. All of which they need first to survive, long before the argument of "their best interest" can even begin.
And if that custodial parent cannot afford to do this.. Who pays for it?
You do. And I do. And every tax payer does.
Just some thoughts. *puts soap box away*
I really shouldn't be allowed to get the mail. Just pisses me off.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Maybejavascript:void(0)
"So did you do it?" she asked excitedly. We were cruising down a back road in her beat-up old bug. There were holes in the floor, in the backseat. If you weren't careful you could fall through them to the rushing pavement below. But we sat in the front.
"Yeah." I adjusted one of the magnets on her cluttered dashboard. It was a rainbow that ordered me to have a nice day.
"Tell me everything."
"I don't think I can. There's nothing to tell really."
"So it sucked."
"No. I mean I don't know. He had to leave right after."
"WHAT? I thought he would plan it better."
"What? You knew?"
"I talked to him last week." She gave me a sideways glance, quickly inhaling off her cigarette and flicking it out the window. "Cause you said you wanted to."
"That's not what I said. I said that it had been over six months and that probably it was do or die pretty soon." I lit a cigarette though I had just put one out. "I said that it was going to be his eighteenth birthday. And I said I was seventeen and a half and what was I waiting for. I never said go tell my boyfriend it's time to pop my cherry. I think I even said maybe we should just break up!"
"I was just trying to help." she pointed out. I thought of the way her face melted on acid. The hurt in her clawing out at me.
"Did it bother you? That I was a virgin?"
"Noooo. Why would that bother me?" She played it off as though I was crazy and I dropped it before my foot could go through the rotting bottom. "What were you going to do? Be a virgin forever?" I didn't say anything. "So it sucked?" she finally asked but continued through my silence. "It sucks for everyone, the first time, you know." she was desperate for our usual easy vibe to be back, needed it more than I needed to be annoyed at her.
"I don't want to be everyone." I told her. And then. "Well. I didn't have anything better to give him for his birthday anyway. Where are we going?"
"The Casa?"
"No. Not today. Let's go up to the caves and wander around."
"Okay. Do you feel different?"
"yeah. Not really. I mean. I feel like I gave up or something.
She shifted the gears after we made a corner "So. He just left?" she asked incredulously and I laughed.
"Yeah. He had laundry or dinner or something with his parents"
"He's such a jack-ass."
"I know."
"They're all jack-asses."
"Maybe."
"Yeah." I adjusted one of the magnets on her cluttered dashboard. It was a rainbow that ordered me to have a nice day.
"Tell me everything."
"I don't think I can. There's nothing to tell really."
"So it sucked."
"No. I mean I don't know. He had to leave right after."
"WHAT? I thought he would plan it better."
"What? You knew?"
"I talked to him last week." She gave me a sideways glance, quickly inhaling off her cigarette and flicking it out the window. "Cause you said you wanted to."
"That's not what I said. I said that it had been over six months and that probably it was do or die pretty soon." I lit a cigarette though I had just put one out. "I said that it was going to be his eighteenth birthday. And I said I was seventeen and a half and what was I waiting for. I never said go tell my boyfriend it's time to pop my cherry. I think I even said maybe we should just break up!"
"I was just trying to help." she pointed out. I thought of the way her face melted on acid. The hurt in her clawing out at me.
"Did it bother you? That I was a virgin?"
"Noooo. Why would that bother me?" She played it off as though I was crazy and I dropped it before my foot could go through the rotting bottom. "What were you going to do? Be a virgin forever?" I didn't say anything. "So it sucked?" she finally asked but continued through my silence. "It sucks for everyone, the first time, you know." she was desperate for our usual easy vibe to be back, needed it more than I needed to be annoyed at her.
"I don't want to be everyone." I told her. And then. "Well. I didn't have anything better to give him for his birthday anyway. Where are we going?"
"The Casa?"
"No. Not today. Let's go up to the caves and wander around."
"Okay. Do you feel different?"
"yeah. Not really. I mean. I feel like I gave up or something.
She shifted the gears after we made a corner "So. He just left?" she asked incredulously and I laughed.
"Yeah. He had laundry or dinner or something with his parents"
"He's such a jack-ass."
"I know."
"They're all jack-asses."
"Maybe."
The Man's First Time (in the interest of fairness)
"Tell me about your first time." it struck me as bizarre that this conversation had never come up for us before as I asked him.
"I don't remember it."
"What?"
"I was too drunk."
"Then how do you know it happened?"
"Well I remember … like flashes. I wasn't quite eighteen yet, at a party. It was Darla."
"Oh." wow. Who hasn't done it with Darla?
"I remember waking up naked. And I remember I was freaked out 'cause we didn't use protection so I was terrified that I knocked her up."
*resists urge to windex pussy immediately*
"Oh." I looked at him "so that was it?"
"Yep. So my first time sucked for me too."
"Interesting."
"I don't remember it."
"What?"
"I was too drunk."
"Then how do you know it happened?"
"Well I remember … like flashes. I wasn't quite eighteen yet, at a party. It was Darla."
"Oh." wow. Who hasn't done it with Darla?
"I remember waking up naked. And I remember I was freaked out 'cause we didn't use protection so I was terrified that I knocked her up."
*resists urge to windex pussy immediately*
"Oh." I looked at him "so that was it?"
"Yep. So my first time sucked for me too."
"Interesting."
Friday, October 3, 2008
Wearing the Pants Now
This afternoon I snuck into the bathroom to take a shower. Yes. I have to sneak to take a shower. Or I have to invite people in with me. So I turned the stereo up and dance around until everyone joined me running and jumping and wriggling through the house and when they were all busy laughing and copying one another's dance moves I grabbed a towel and made my escape.
I was under the super hot water, getting my hair soaked to wash it when he discovered me. He poked his head in the door to say "Are you getting that hot pussy nice and wet?" *groan*
"Maaaaaaan! Ugh!" I say. And don't even start with me about this topic you readers. I realize plenty of people would love to hear that. The question is not whether I should like it. The question is why in six years he doesn't know what I like. Not that I wouldn't like to under the right circumstances… eh. It's subtle. ANYWAYS. He made a sound of annoyance that I wasn't already jumping his bones after his comment.
"Or rather that cold pussy." he mutters.
"What's that?" I say "I can't hear you. Come closer." I carefully removed the showerhead from it's holder as I spoke making sure it continued to spray my body so the sound wouldn't change and alert him, ready for his head to peer in around the shower curtain. I almost lost my nerve when his grin appeared until he started to repeat himself. Then I turned it on him. He ran. Within moments I lost my water supply. Then he thought better of it and turned it back on.
When I got out of the shower I realized I had no clean clothes. The Man's side of the closet was plenty stocked with clean clothes. Because when he does laundry he picks only his own clothes out of the pile. "That's IT!" I thought. And I put his clothes on.
HA!
I strolled out into the living room, quite pleased with myself. They were all lounging on the furniture.
"What's this?!" The Man asked, grinning.
"Turn around so I can see the backside" Big D demanded.
"I have no clean clothes!" I stated sharply. "Because SOMEBODY only washes their OWN clothes."
"WHaaahhhaat?" The Man laughed. This is an ongoing fight for us. Well… "fight" we don't fight. We make jokes. "If your clothes were by the washer I would wash them. You were gone all weekend"
"Then I decided I do have clean clothes. Your clothes. Which are now OUR clothes."
"Nice choices from The Man wardrobe." Big D said. "You pretty much just look like you did in high school" she added.
"Nice." I'm not even aging.
It's a pretty good day.
I also stormed out of another "fight" in the bedroom only to hide around the corner and yell "BOO" when The Man followed me. He said it was "very good".
*nods* It's a brand new day around here. I'm wearing the pants.
I was under the super hot water, getting my hair soaked to wash it when he discovered me. He poked his head in the door to say "Are you getting that hot pussy nice and wet?" *groan*
"Maaaaaaan! Ugh!" I say. And don't even start with me about this topic you readers. I realize plenty of people would love to hear that. The question is not whether I should like it. The question is why in six years he doesn't know what I like. Not that I wouldn't like to under the right circumstances… eh. It's subtle. ANYWAYS. He made a sound of annoyance that I wasn't already jumping his bones after his comment.
"Or rather that cold pussy." he mutters.
"What's that?" I say "I can't hear you. Come closer." I carefully removed the showerhead from it's holder as I spoke making sure it continued to spray my body so the sound wouldn't change and alert him, ready for his head to peer in around the shower curtain. I almost lost my nerve when his grin appeared until he started to repeat himself. Then I turned it on him. He ran. Within moments I lost my water supply. Then he thought better of it and turned it back on.
When I got out of the shower I realized I had no clean clothes. The Man's side of the closet was plenty stocked with clean clothes. Because when he does laundry he picks only his own clothes out of the pile. "That's IT!" I thought. And I put his clothes on.
HA!
I strolled out into the living room, quite pleased with myself. They were all lounging on the furniture.
"What's this?!" The Man asked, grinning.
"Turn around so I can see the backside" Big D demanded.
"I have no clean clothes!" I stated sharply. "Because SOMEBODY only washes their OWN clothes."
"WHaaahhhaat?" The Man laughed. This is an ongoing fight for us. Well… "fight" we don't fight. We make jokes. "If your clothes were by the washer I would wash them. You were gone all weekend"
"Then I decided I do have clean clothes. Your clothes. Which are now OUR clothes."
"Nice choices from The Man wardrobe." Big D said. "You pretty much just look like you did in high school" she added.
"Nice." I'm not even aging.
It's a pretty good day.
I also stormed out of another "fight" in the bedroom only to hide around the corner and yell "BOO" when The Man followed me. He said it was "very good".
*nods* It's a brand new day around here. I'm wearing the pants.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
A Pickle of a Nickle
We were all loaded up in the two vehicles, up on Crown Point. Well, all of us except Muddy . He was still in the Vista House. We waited a bit, passing the time by discussing the probable distance I could still travel with my gas needle hovering above empty. Finally, I was sent to retrieve him. I found him in the gift shop purchasing something. He ended up with a handful of change.
"aww man. That sucks. Now you have all that change." I commiserated with him.
"What's the matter with that?" he asked me.
"Nothing. I just try to never have change. I almost never HAVE change. I say we get rid of all the change. But they're trying to get everyone using the dollar coin now."
"It's better, though."
"I know, I know. The environment."
"They could get rid of some of it. You have the dimes and the pennies, and the pickles." I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was pulling my leg, laughter already bubbling up.
"the pickles?" I asked him, grinning and laughing. He started laughing too. "You mean nickels? Because I like pickles, I don't want you getting rid of all the pickles!"
"You LIKE pickles?"
"You DON'T like pickles!?"
"No, they're so vinegary. I don't like vinegar."
"Me either. But I like pickles." I looked over at him sideways as we walked along. I still couldn't tell if he had truly thought nickels were pickles. "Not to be confused with nickels, which I want nothing to do with."
He just smiled, revealing nothing.
"aww man. That sucks. Now you have all that change." I commiserated with him.
"What's the matter with that?" he asked me.
"Nothing. I just try to never have change. I almost never HAVE change. I say we get rid of all the change. But they're trying to get everyone using the dollar coin now."
"It's better, though."
"I know, I know. The environment."
"They could get rid of some of it. You have the dimes and the pennies, and the pickles." I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was pulling my leg, laughter already bubbling up.
"the pickles?" I asked him, grinning and laughing. He started laughing too. "You mean nickels? Because I like pickles, I don't want you getting rid of all the pickles!"
"You LIKE pickles?"
"You DON'T like pickles!?"
"No, they're so vinegary. I don't like vinegar."
"Me either. But I like pickles." I looked over at him sideways as we walked along. I still couldn't tell if he had truly thought nickels were pickles. "Not to be confused with nickels, which I want nothing to do with."
He just smiled, revealing nothing.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Today
Today I'm snotty. I'm sneezing and coughing and cloudy-headed. Everything aches.
Today Little Man wants my full attention. He wants to keep me completely engaged in his two year old world. He does not want me to share my time with The Girls. He missed me over the weekend. He wants make-up hours. So he pulls their hair. He climbs up to the school table and throws pencils, papers, binders, scissors, etc…He pretends to poop. He says "I pooped!" so I go to change his diaper, no poop to be found. I say "You didn't poop" and he giggles and says "Fart." and then blows a raspberry at me.
Today The Girls do not want to get back in the school routine. They dink around. They hem and haw. They ask ridiculous unrelated questions and have arguments about who was the last person to use the blue plate and whose turn it is to sit in the chair farthest from Little Man. They fail their assessment. Not because they don't know the answers, because they were talking while I made lunch instead of focusing on their work.
Today I returned to the kitchen after being called out to the garage to help with school work to find that I had left a plastic toddler plate on the burner just recently turned off. It was now a puddle of neon green stink. I said "FUCK!" Not a loud angry fuck. And not a laughing, isn't that crazy sort of fuck. It was a fuck that you say when running away to hide under the covers and crying isn't an option.
"What, Mama?" Little Man asked "Happened?"
"Never mind."
"Something stinks!" the girls said. I can only imagine how bad the smell might actually be in here. I smell it a little and my nose is clogged so it's probably horrific.
"fuck." Little Man said "fuck-fuck"
"Don't use that word!" I told him in a mad tone. The lip came out.
"Why? Why Mama?" His lower lip trembled and his eyes were huge. "WHYYYYY?" he began to sob in earnest. I broke his heart.
Today I sat down right there in the kitchen on the filthy floor that hasn't been swept or mopped since I left last Friday. And I held the baby while he said "fuck" and cried for me. And the girls wandered by and took their plates of food and sat at the table without a word about the chairs.
Today I want to quit. I want to give up.
All of it.
Today I called you at work.
Today you actually answered.
Today it wasn't enough.
Today Little Man wants my full attention. He wants to keep me completely engaged in his two year old world. He does not want me to share my time with The Girls. He missed me over the weekend. He wants make-up hours. So he pulls their hair. He climbs up to the school table and throws pencils, papers, binders, scissors, etc…He pretends to poop. He says "I pooped!" so I go to change his diaper, no poop to be found. I say "You didn't poop" and he giggles and says "Fart." and then blows a raspberry at me.
Today The Girls do not want to get back in the school routine. They dink around. They hem and haw. They ask ridiculous unrelated questions and have arguments about who was the last person to use the blue plate and whose turn it is to sit in the chair farthest from Little Man. They fail their assessment. Not because they don't know the answers, because they were talking while I made lunch instead of focusing on their work.
Today I returned to the kitchen after being called out to the garage to help with school work to find that I had left a plastic toddler plate on the burner just recently turned off. It was now a puddle of neon green stink. I said "FUCK!" Not a loud angry fuck. And not a laughing, isn't that crazy sort of fuck. It was a fuck that you say when running away to hide under the covers and crying isn't an option.
"What, Mama?" Little Man asked "Happened?"
"Never mind."
"Something stinks!" the girls said. I can only imagine how bad the smell might actually be in here. I smell it a little and my nose is clogged so it's probably horrific.
"fuck." Little Man said "fuck-fuck"
"Don't use that word!" I told him in a mad tone. The lip came out.
"Why? Why Mama?" His lower lip trembled and his eyes were huge. "WHYYYYY?" he began to sob in earnest. I broke his heart.
Today I sat down right there in the kitchen on the filthy floor that hasn't been swept or mopped since I left last Friday. And I held the baby while he said "fuck" and cried for me. And the girls wandered by and took their plates of food and sat at the table without a word about the chairs.
Today I want to quit. I want to give up.
All of it.
Today I called you at work.
Today you actually answered.
Today it wasn't enough.
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