Please please please

I took Little J to the eye doctor the other week. He recommended a specialist, as there were "white floaty things" in the gel of her eye. He thought it might be this disease where later in life the retina detaches from the eye. As this runs in my family, I was dismayed, but not overly concerned.
We went to the specialist. He confirmed that it was not this disease. He did have a lot of questions, however, on head trauma.
What?
Yes, head trauma. Apparently, whatever he saw in the dilation of my youngest daughter's eyes prompted him to speak out on Shaken Baby Syndrome. Whatever he saw in my child's eyes...he recognized as trauma from being shaken.
This is extremely difficult to write. As a mother, the thought of anyone hurting my child, or any child for that matter, but especially MY child...well, I want to kill them. I want to beat them with a baseball bat and stab them with burning hot pokers. I am sure I could get more creative if I were to let myself.
Little J has no other symptoms, no learning disabilities diagnosed as of yet, and if she was shaken as an infant, it was not enough to cause any noticable emergency-room-type signs. I don't know who, I don't know when, but I am begging you to educate yourselves and your family members.
Please. Click on the link, and read about what you can do to stop this from happening, and why it happens in the first place. If you tell one person, just one...you could save another family from this.

There's No Crying At The Eye Doctor

I got my first pair of glasses when I was nine years old.
I got my first pair of contacts at thirteen. When I put them in at the eye doctor's office, I cried. To be able to see clearly, without hardware on my face, was an emotional thing for me.
I switched back to glasses when I was eighteen. I was a new mother, the contacts were uncomfortable, and too much fuss.
Today, at twenty-seven years of age, I put in a pair of contacts. I didn't cry. I covered my eyes and peeked through my fingers...something I cannot do with glasses. I walked to the mirror, and looked at my face.
For the first time in almost ten years, I could see my face clearly without glasses on. It's how my fiance sees me in the morning. It's how my daughters see me in the middle of the night if they need me. But it's not how I see me.
I came home to put on some eyemakeup. I grabbed my eyeliner pencil and reached up to take my glasses off. I proceeded in almost poking myself in the eye, being so used to taking those glasses off.
Those of you with perfect eyesight take it for granted. You don't know how it feels to wake up in the morning and open your eyes, rub the sleep from them, and everything is still fuzzy. To have to squint and fumble for the right bottle of shampoo in the shower. To have to stand two inches away from the mirror in the morning to put on makeup.
Here I am with my contacts in. You've seen me before without my glasses, but now, I'm smiling because I can see you, too.


>>edited<<

I am now going to the Mall, where I will try on pair after pair of sunglasses. Why? Because I never have.

And Boy, Are My Arms Tired!

I played softball yesterday. No, not by myself. (I know what some of you were thinking--you can't deny it.)
I played a softball game with some people from work. Let's remember that I haven't played in well over ten years. Try, ummm...thirteen years!
But it was fun, and I didn't pull any muscles. Hooray!

Umm...

It turns out that the idea of the baby mice versus the actuality of the baby mice are far too difficult to experience. Because I'm a softie. And to watch that snake devour this tiny, squeaking, scared baby mouse just made me cry and cry and cry. And I had to go outside. To cry some more. Yeah, yeah, the whole food-chain thing, whatever.

Hi Honey, How Was Your Day?

We now own a snake. A Snow Corn Snake. It will eat little baby mice. I'm not sure how I feel about that. And the pillowcase is just cool.

The Engaged Zone

It's like the Twilight Zone...but different. All of a sudden, there are so many things to think about! People are asking me all sorts of questions, and I haven't even thought of them, much less know how to answer them!

"When is the wedding?"
Holy crap people, can I get used to being engaged first?

"Are you going to take his last name?"
I seriously just got my own last name back not so long ago, after my first marriage. Now I'm gonna' change it again?

And now I have to get used to the fact that what we buy today will be "ours" in the future. Not such a little thing for a selfish bitch like me. I like my stuff. I like my space.
I like my name!

I'm Showing You The Finger

Are you ready for my finger? Here it is... okay, so it's actually my hand. But it has something made of carbon and white gold on a very important finger.





I almost peed my pants. Pee-ed? Pee-ded-ed?

Mrs. Blackeye and Mrs. Kissylips

It was makeover day at Grandma's house this weekend.

Shifts and Shifties

I have never been in prison, nor do I intend to go. So I'm not sure how they do things around there...but I'll wager a guess.
They (being The Prisons) must release the inmates in shifts. I've noticed that lately there have been more than a few recently released inmates applying for food stamps and medical benefits. That's all I had in my interviews one day last week, guys just released from prison. And it's not like they release them according to catagory, either. I had a Grand Theft Auto, an Incest, and a Drug Felon. Then another Drug Felon. And then a Fleeing Felon. It was like a convention of homeless parolees!
When I brought my theory up the other night to Boyfriend, he laughed. Laughed some more...sputtered the words "let them...shifts..hahasnortgarumph"...and finally choked to a stop. But I think I'm on to something.

What Are You Bringing?

Little J has a new favorite song. The song is "Sexyback" by Justin Timberlake. She wiggles her little hips and sings, "I'm bringin' sexy back...la la la la how to act...sexy back." While I was driving the girls to school the song came on the radio. Little J got really excited and started boppin' to the beat in the backseat of the truck. I told her, "Make sure you don't sing that song at school, it's not really appropriate."
Big J starts laughing. "Mom!" she says, "She sings it during afterschool care! And she dances!"

Well at least it's technically after school. Right?

Something I Didn't Know

I just realized that I can control a man with sex.
Some of you are saying, "Well no kidding! She didn't know that?"
C'mon people, I was with a woman for the past four or five years! We women don't have to have sex all the time.
A man, however, I've noticed is different. Without "getting any", he is grumpy and irritating. If
he is, uh...satisfied, (I'm trying to make this as PG rated as I can), he does things like clean the house with me! And he's in a better mood! And he's more affectionate, eager to please...oh, the list goes on and on. Like a puppy, I give him his treats and he doesn't piss on my carpet!
Why didn't anyone tell me about this earlier?

Who's Got The Spirit?

Apparently my oldest daughter does. Big J survived tryouts for Spirit Squad at her school and was one of the lucky ones to make it on the squad.
What is this Spirit Squad, you ask?
I have absolutely no idea. But they get to dance in front of the "whole school". Hooray!

Growing Up Is Hard To Do

I thought that I was an adult. After all, I'm twenty-seven years old. I never really felt like I was grown-up, though. Lately, it seems to me that maybe I will never be grown-up. What does being grown-up mean anyways?
I thought it meant a few things...being responsible for my actions, taking charge of my life, doing the things that needed to be done. Learning all the lessons you needed to and then, then you were grown-up.
I have learned many a lesson recently. I've learned that I am selfish. I've learned that love is a give-and-take kind of thing. I had the impression in my mind that if someone does something for me, I am not obligated to return the favor. I don't like being obligated. However, it has occurred to me that maybe 'obligation' is not the correct word. Maybe the word is...courtesy? I've learned that other people's feelings do matter to me. (Well, some people's feelings. I'll work on that.) I've learned that there is sometimes more than one "right thing" to do. Which one do I choose? The one that's right in the eyes of the law? The one that's right morally? The one that's right in my heart? So much pressure.
I've learned that the choices I make are sometimes best left alone, rather than fucking with them and choosing something else. Previously, I held my motto out to be happy with life, and if you wanted something different, change it! Choose something else! You only live once, so why be unhappy!
I have found that maybe, just maybe, I've made my bed and I might as well lay in it. That maybe what's better in the long run does not necessarily make me happy now. If I want instant gratification, I'll go shopping. If I want to have a healthy happy future...well, that's different. I made a few choices and I will stick with them. If I cry at night over them, that's okay. Because my future will be better. Time will heal my heart.
I have learned that it's best to go with my first instinct. So that's my story...and I'm sticking to it.

My New Title

I am now known at my daughter's school as...(drum roll please)...
"The Mom of the Girl Who Barfs On the Tire Swing".
Little J loves the tire swing. She plays on it every day. She talks about it many times a day. She loves it soooooo much, that...well, I'm sure you get it.

Confession Time

Hi. My name is BrokeMom. And I am here today to tell you that I am fat.
Yes.
I'm sure that some of you already know that, so let me tell you the why about it.
I can blame it on fast food. But really, the blame is mine, because I am the one who put the food into my mouth.
I am working more than I have in the past. (Forty hours a week, as opposed to twenty-six hours a week.) I am also making more money than I have in the past. Ever. (You don't get to know how much, but I'll tell you this; my take-home pay is double what I used to bring home.) Combine more spending money with less time and you have Convenience Meals! These convenient convenience meals are from fast-food places usually, sometimes actually sit-down establishments. Three or four times a week.
My waistline is getting bigger...and bigger...and bigger! So I get to diet again. And I have no one to blame but myself. So if I'm a little cranky in the near future, it's because I'm going through carbohydrate withdrawals. And I'll be sore from walking up treadmill mountains. After I've eaten enough salad that my nose starts twitching and I turn green, I'll post a picture.

Medical Degree from a Box of Cracker Jacks

I went to the doctor the other day. I had these little itchy bumps on my side. (Four of them, to be exact.) You could barely see them. Tiny as they were, these little bumps itched like a muthafucka'. No other way to say it. Itched and itched painfully. Do you see how I have emphasized that? Times that by ten thousand and you have my painful itching bumps that you cannot see. Imagine wanting to stab a fork (or some other sharp object) into your skin, just to stop the itchy pain. Some of you have seen me in awkward situations before...I'll just say, this was bad.
Like I was saying, I went to the doctor. I wanted the pain and the itching to stop. I really didn't care what it was. My mom thought it was scabies. My mother perpetually thinks everyone has scabies though, so no matter. I had already had a staph infection on my hip that ate a hole the size of a quarter in my flesh, so I knew what that was. (Half the town has had staph. Maybe more.)
On with the story! I was at the doctor's office. I had to point out the bumps to him. He sat back on his little stool and looked at me. Then he started in with this story about some woman he sees who thought she had some disease and then she had something else, he's blathering on about absolutely nothing that I can tell, and then he switches gears and says, "I don't know what it is."
Thank you for your esteemed medical opinion. I told him, "I don't care what it is. Make it stop. Please, for the love of all that is holymakeitstop!!!!" My voice is pretty shrieky at the end of this sentence. You can picture it...I'm scratching like freakin' monkey at the zoo, but the itching hurts so I'm kind of bent over and holding my side. There might have been some tears.
He prescribes me some pills called Vistaril. First they make me feel doped up. Then they make me pass out. I itch in my sleep. He gave me some cream for scabies. I had to rub it all over me and then sleep with it on. It made the bumps burn. I was on fire. And it did not work.
I know you're asking now. "What did you do, Brokemom?"
I took pills all weekend. And by today, the painful itching was tolerable. Still hurts. Still itchy.

Saturday Night

On Saturday night, we went Drunk Bowling. Yes, that's right. It's not just called 'bowling'. I don't just bowl. I drunk bowl. That basically consists of getting together with some friends at the bowling alley and ingesting pitchers of beer, intermersed with heaving a bowling ball down a lane as best you can while partaking in more pitchers of beer. The bowling alley has some thing where they turn off the main lights and colored light spin around and loud music plays*. It adds to the atmosphere, I guess. Then at the end of the night, whoever is most sober drives us all home. Small town fun, I tell you what.

(*Sam, didn't hear my cell! You missed a good time!!)

My Fascination

I am not ashamed to talk about poop. I like how some people are shocked that I would even bring up the subject. C'mon, it's something we all do. So when I found this, I was fascinated.

Today Is The First Day Of The Rest Of Your Life

Today is the first day of school. Liitle J is in kindergarten and Big J is in fourth grade.
New school to all of us. The doors are all open to welcome the children, however, no room numbers are visable! I was able to find Big J's class without too much trouble, but it took a few stops and questions to find the kindergarten classroom. (I was also a little snotty to the people I asked. I don't think they heard the desperation in my voice, just the bitch.)
Anyhow, Little J pulls on my hand and says, "I want to whisper something in your ear."
She whispered, "Mommy, I'm a little bit scared."
And Mommy had to reassure her (without crying) that everybody was going to be a little bit scared today. When we found her class, she said it was too small.
We met her teacher (I don't know her name, but I like the way she accessorizes) and I gave her a hug (Little J, not the teacher), and off I went. Bitching the whole way back to the truck about not being able to find any freakin' room numbers! (In my head, of course.)
I shed a few tears. I forgot to put the chocolate-covered raisins in Little J's backpack like she requested, so I cried over that as well. But at the end of the day, I will pick them up from school and smother them with kisses...and chocolate-covered raisins.

I've Got IT

Oh yeah, fast fast fast! Ve-ry niiiiiice.

UNOIMBIZEEWEN...

the new Ani CD came out on the 18th, and I didn't buy it until the 20th!! I just happened to come across it. Some of her latest is a little different, kinda' along the same lines as Knuckledown...but I like it. Of course.

Let Me Share

My posts have been rather blah lately. This is because I no longer have the internet at home. And that is because I am cheap. Uh, fiscally conservative, I mean. I don't like to post interesting things from my work computer. Big Brother, you know.
Anyhow, so I did what every other FC person would do...I procrastinated. I whined. And hemmed and hawed about dial-up and dsl and modems and such. Then I called my phone company and had all of my extra services, such as call waiting, taken off of my phone. (I'm never home to use it, why pay for it?)
And then I ordered DSL for a wonderfully low rate.
And then I received notice that I get no more child support checks because ExDingbat lost his job. I knew it was coming, oh yes. But it still hurts on so many levels. (Ok, so it bugs me that he doesn't care to send support to his children without it being garnished, but it hurts financially the most.)
But see, I figured it out like this: I usually pay my bills online. Without the internet, I am spending $2 a month in stamps, some other amount in envelopes(who wants to calculate that?), and lots of precious time finding said stamps, envelopes, a pen to write with, and a child to run down to the mailbox for me. This also means that my friends never hear from me again, because I don't do phone calls and I write letters about dumb stuff.
So to pay $12.99 a month for the internet (not Dial-Up, ooh, new for me) is completely worth it.
Even without child support checks...well, I'll worry about that when next month's bills are due. And if I can afford to pay them, I'll do it online.

Slippery Little Suckers

I find my thoughts slipping to Her.
Such a painless transition from one seemingly unrelated thing to a memory brimming with veiled deceit and anguish.
How long does it take for a heart to stop breaking?

Quirky Me and My Control Issues

I have a grocery-bagging quirk. And I have decided to share it with the world, in hopes that I am one of many.
I have a very precise method to bagging my groceries. It irritates me when I am with someone else (boyfriend, other friend) and they bag my groceries for me. Helpful, yes. I appreciate the help. But I am still annoyed.
All of the produce needs to be in a separate bag. As does the bread. Crackers are not a bread item, all boxed goods go into a separate bag. The meat goes into a bag with only meat.
Are we seeing a pattern here?
Frozen items in a bag. Dairy products in another. (Ice cream is dairy, not frozen.)
Each item fits into a category, (I get to specify the category), and each category gets its own bag. Easy, yes?
If I am in a hurry, I will still bag according to my method. If I am with someone who is in a hurry, that person throws whatever into any bag and I am annoyed and irritated and thinking about all those mixed-up groceries until we can unpack them.
It's a system that makes me feel better. But it makes me wonder...is this one of those things that I have to control because I can, or do I just like organized groceries?

My Favorite Time

It's school clothes shopping time again!! Hooray! And do you want to know what makes it even better?
Having the money to buy things for my children. Hooray again!
It's that child support, I tell you. I love it. I get to blow this money on clothes for my kids without a second thought, because that's what it is there for. And when I'm done with that? I can spend my extra paycheck money on them. Why? Because I have it and I can.
What a wonderful system.

Good News Today

Congratulations to my friend, Sam. She had the man, she had the ring, and now she's got the Question.
I wish you and B all the best, Samantha. You are both great people, obviously in love, and I hope you both make many great memories together. Like camping. :) Good luck with the new place!!!

It Happened. Still Happening.

My oldest daughter will be ten years old in December. Last night, she confided in me something unusual that was happening to her.
"Mom, I have hair." she said.
"No kidding" I said.
"No, Mom. I have hair down there." she replied.
I was on my way out the door, but I stopped pretty quickly. Huh? What?! Hair? Down there?!
She wasn't upset or shocked, after all, we've had plenty of talks about "what will happen when you hit puberty".
Sure freakin' shocked me though. It's one of those things that I knew would happen. But did I prepare for it? Brace myself for it? Remind myself that one day this tall, glowing, talented little girl would be a big girl?
No, I did not.
My youngest starts kindergarten this month. My babies are growing up, and I am not prepared. Which leads me to wonder...will I ever be?

Wanna Piece of Me?

Yesterday after work, I picked my daughters up from childcare. My youngest, who is five, was very tired and cranky. But then she started this, which cracked me up. A car would pass us going the opposite direction on the road. My youngest would say in this little 'tough girl' voice, "You wanna' piece of me?".
Another car. "You wanna' piece of me?"
"You wanna piece of me?"
"You wanna' piece of me?"
Finally after a really long line of cars passed, she was almost breathless. She broke up the monotony by saying ,"Gimme a break, people!"
I thought it was over. Cute, but annoying. And then... "You wanna' piece of me?"

What's Been Going On

I filed a Dissolution of Domestic Partnership at my local courthouse in May. The clerks did not know how to file it. "We've never had one of these!" said the clerk.

Hex filed for visitation rights to see my children. (Why? Because I won't let her see them.) We went to court about it yesterday, and among the more confusing statements out of Hex's mouth was this: "She won't let me see the girls because she says it's too hard to see me because she misses me!" Or some crap to that effect. Miss her? Hmm...I don't miss the sex, because I'm currently getting better. I don't miss the smoking, constant pot begging from friends, whining, lying, cheating, comments from the neighbors about why can't she leave them alone, over-emotional over-analyzing of everything, because it all annoyed me.
I won't let her see my daughters because she's not a good person. Maybe deep down inside, you say? Nah. I've figured out the reasons why I was with her for years...and let's just say, it wasn't due to her charming personality.

So we were referrred to mediation. I called to make my mediation appointment today. The conversation went like this:
Me: "Hi, I'd like to make my court-referred appointment for mediation!"
Clerk: "Okay, what's the father's name?"
Me: "Uhhh...no father?"
Clerk: "OH. You must be BrokeMom!"
Me: "Why yes, yes I am. Have you guys ever been through anything like this?"
Clerk: "Nope! This is groundbreaking for us!"

So, apparently this is the first same-sex divorce/visitation case they've ever had in this county. Which I think is kinda' cool. But rethinking it, maybe not. It means they'll do everything by the book and research other cases, etc. This will set precedence for any other case like this!
Go lesbian moms! This could be a step for equal rights all around!

Um, yeah. Except for the fact that I don't want my daughters around a psycho trailer-trash lying thieving bitch, everything would be great.

But I'll let you know how things go.

After Work Music

"Pieces"
From the moment that we met
My world was turned around,
upside down.
To some degree I still regret
my memory for keeping you around.
Girl I thought that you were mine,
but my broken heart's been shattered
one too many times.
And I don't want to see you anymore.
I'm just not that strong.
I love it when you're here,
but I'm better when you're gone.
I'm certain that I've given and oh how you can take,
There's no use in you looking,
there's nothing left for you to break.
Baby please release me
Let my heart rest in pieces.

Someone let you down again
So you turn to me
Your convenient friend.
Oh but I know what you're doing
And what you hope to find
I've seen it a thousand times.
Oh the fire we had before
are now just bitter ashes
left scattered on the floor.
rascal flatts

Lookit, Lookit!

Look what I got! Finally. I'll tell you the history on why this is so momentous...but I have to go play the piano right now...

Morning Music

"And I never tried to give my life meaning by demeaning you,
and I would like to state for the record I did everything that I could do.
I'm not saying I am a saint, I just don't want to live that way.
No, I will never be a saint, but I will always say,
Squint your eyes and look closer, I'm not between you and your ambition.
I am a poster girl with no poster, I am thirty-two flavors and then some."
ani difranco

Not Bored. Nope, Not Me.

I cleaned my garage today.
Did you fall out of your chair?

New.s.

New apartment.
New job.
New friends.
New boyfriend.
New activities. (New camping gear, whoo-hoo!)
New problems.
Is it any wonder that not many people hear from me?
No.
But what is strange, is that my friends who are just as busy as I am, (and by this I mean the ones with a career and/or children) seem to understand that we are only going to get to touch base a few times out of the month. And they're okay with this, because they have new.s. too.
I am setting up my life for the rest of it. And for those of you who don't hear from me much anymore...I'm doing a damn fine job of it.

Paper Doll

Paper doll
flimsy body torn in half
one side yearning to be good
the other, wanting so bad
to just be the girl who wants to be
paper doll.
Her face is one big ink smear
tears and dirty fingerprints
have smudged
into confusion
what wanted to be there.
Paper doll
taped up the middle in a new house
will continuously look down
at the wounds
and wonder if she'll ever be whole.

Outdoor Girl

Found a swimmin' hole and went swimmin'. Climbed over rocks and got dirty, yee-haw. It's like there's a whole world outdoors that I forgot about!

Don't Apply Spray Sunscreen After Shaving Your Legs

I went floating down the river today in a raft with my boyfriend and a cooler full of beer. We had some friends with us in their raft, which happened to have a leak in it. In their leaky raft was an air pump that didn't work.
Needless to say, I am home now, slightly sunburned, yet all intact.
I had a great fucking time.
No, seriously.

Brace Yourself

My daughters are away on visitation to their dad's 430some miles away. This means that my days are a little different. I sleep in about 30 minutes longer in the mornings, go to work, come home, and that's it. No, it gets worse.
There's nothing for me to do. No dinner to make, no one to tuck in or sing to, nobody to yell to, "Stop getting a drink and get your butt in bed!"
I was bored this evening when I got home.
Those of you that know me well had better grab a chair or something...
I scrubbed my kitchen floor. Oh yes, I did. On my hands and knees with a scrubby brush thing.


Because it's sure as hell not going to scrub itself. Now is it.

What She Said About Sex

I have a friend who told me something interesting one day. This was when I was trying to get over Hex, and after I was done lamenting about how good the sex was, and will it ever be good again with somebody else blah blah blah, my friend K told me this:
"Of course it will be good with someone else. It will be better sex than sex with Hex!"
(Does anyone else feel like reading Dr. Suess?)
So I wailed on about how nothing could ever top it and a load of other crap (do you see where this is going?) and K told me, "It just keeps getting better and better with other people." And I asked after that comment if that meant I should just slut it up until I died from orgasmic bliss, but she didn't seem to find that amusing. Huh. But she did tell me after that, something to the effect of...well, basically I think she meant that when I care about the person I'm with and not just "getting laid", then the sex will be as good as it is.
(Crap, now we're reading Alice in Wonderland...)
She was right. Which is freaking me out. I was always about the whole, "Oh, sex is sex. Love doesn't have to be involved. Orgasms are good." Which, to a point, is certainly true. And I know the Hex Sex was good because love was involved. But I knew that I was going to fuck other people. I would never have done it behind her back, which is one of the reasons why we are no longer together, but I wanted to sleep with other people. She didn't like it sometimes, but it was important to me. I didn't believe in monogamy.
When I thought it couldn't get any better, I was wrong. Way wrong. Wrong enough to admit it here in print.
I did start having sex with him on a purely physical basis. I thought he was hot and I wanted to fuck him, good. Great. But now I am seeing the appeal of a monogomous relationship <gasp!> with someone for a good long time. I don't feel the need anymore to spout my Monogomy Sucks Speech. Am I growing up? Sideways? What in the hell is happening here??!! It's kinda' scary.

Happy Trails To Me

We went camping this weekend. We being me, my two daughters, and my boyfriend. (And I have to admit, it is still weird to say that word, but I am trying...)
It was my five year old's very first camping trip. She absolutely loved it. She was an angel the entire time. I now know how to make her do what I say; allow her to sleep in a tent and eat marshmellows off of a dirty stick. She did tell us on the way up to the campsite, "We forgot to pack the shelf and the TV." As I don't let her watch much television, I have to assume she was kidding...

Trust and Other Issues

I was a control freak the past few years. I'll admit it. Sometimes, I'm sure I seemed quite psychotic. But I figured out that I was controlling because I didn't trust the person in my life. I tried to control everything Hex did because there was absolutely no trust in the relationship.
She lied to me, repeatedly, every day. She stole from me; money, jewelry, my self-respect. She cheated on me with my ex-husband. (Probably more than once with multiple people, but we'll leave that alone...) I didn't trust her, so I tried to control every little thing that I could so I'd feel like I was in charge of my life. But I wasn't.
Being in a relationship with another person has opened my eyes to a lot of different things I didn't see before. I thought I was just a controlling person. But I see now, that's not the case. I am perfectly happy not being in control, as long as I have trust. It is a glorious feeling to have unconditional trust in someone. I don't worry about my boyfriend (eek, I called him my boyfriend!) going out, because I know he'll be doing exactly what he said he would be doing. He comes home when he says he will, and if he's going to be late, he calls. If he says he'll "take care of it", whatever it might be, I know he will. I know he loves me, so I'm not worried when I have a "low self-esteem" day. He's there to hug me and tell me it will be better. And you know something? I believe him. How nice to have faith in someone again...

The Gossip Mill Goes Round and Round

Hex called me today. Apparently, there is a "rumor" going around that I am pregnant. This sounds strange to me, mostly because I don't talk to anyone anymore. Nope, too busy to have friends! Is it possible that someone unnoticed saw me and reported to Hex that I looked preggo? I mean, I have gained a little weight, but sheesh!
My other thought is that she was just making it up to have a reason to keep me on the phone a little longer.
In any case, it's a tad bothersome to hear that people allegedly think I'm pregnant, because I take my Pill regularly. Religiously! AND I just bought a truck that has no chance in hell of accommodating a carseat! When I bought the truck, I weighed out my options on the whole "baby" thing. I decided that I was not going to buy a truck and get rid of it later for another MommyMobile, so if I bought the truck, I was deciding not to have any more children. I was deciding that my children's "sibling unit" was complete.
So, for those of you reading who share with others, I'm not pregnant. Just fat. And I love my truck.

Joint Custody

Are things getting serious when you and the person you're dating start owning stuff together?
Together, we planted these...











And together, we take care of this little guy...






What is it about a man cuddling a kitten that makes me all gooey inside?

More Things I Learned at Work

When it comes to 'earned income', selling drugs and prostitution count. After all, you're providing a service and getting paid for it.

Things I Learned at Work

If you are highlighting a document (because you can) with a bright yellow highlighter, and then you wish to use white-out correction tape over said highlighted areas (again, because you can), the trick is to wait until the highlighter is dry before you put white-out over it. Which takes much longer than one would think.

Clueless People

You call someone who you used to have a relationship with, be it friendship or whatever. They're not home, so you leave a message on the answering machine.
No one returns your call.
You call again, talk to the answering machine.
No one calls you back.
A few days later, you call again, leave another message.
No one calls you back.
You might email the person, but you get no response.
So you wait a day or two and call again, again leaving a message.
No one calls you back.
Does anyone see a pattern here, hmmm?

If you don't see a pattern here, congratulations! You are a Clueless Person. Now stop calling me.

Hell Froze Over Today

I got my very first child support check in the mail today! I was shocked. Awed. Not that it was voluntary, they garnished his wages...but still. For the first time in five years, I have child support. I do believe that I am still in shock.

Unidentified Object

Someone at my house had a birthday. This is what I made for the birthday. If you can guess what kind of cake it is, I'll give you a prize.

Like This.

Good things other than voicemail and a comfy chair come with my new job. Like the paychecks. And with those, comes something else.

Being Good

I was good today.
There were people I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because even though I wanted to call them, I know that I shouldn't be calling them. Snaps to me!

I am on day six of my diet (already down 9 lbs.) and through my fog of depression today, I didn't cheat at all. Snaps to me!

I told my dad that I would come over with the children for a BBQ, and I didn't cancel at the last moment. Oh, I thought about it...but I went. There was fried chicken. And fresh, hot garlic bread...and pie for dessert! But I resisted. Snaps to me!

Sorry about the snaps, I got suckered into watching Legally Blonde 2 last night...

Someday

Dear Hex,
Someday, I will listen to a sad song on the radio and I won't burst into tears. Someday, I will hear an Ani song and not think of you. Someday, I will pass by an AutoZone and I won't cringe.

Someday, something good will happen to me, and I won't think of telling you about it. Someday, I will be able to let someone touch me without thinking of your hands. Someday, I won't think of your lips when I kiss someone else's.

I gave you everything that I could give you, without giving up myself. I used up all of the compassion, all of the understanding, and most importantly, all of my trust when it comes to you. Plain and simple, I will not let my children around someone that I don't trust.

Someday, I won't love you anymore.
Always,
Me

Check It Out

This cracks me up. Go ahead, give it a go.

My Big Problem

I hate people who try to mindfuck* me. And it really pisses me off if they do it under the pretense of "love". And then when faced with a psuedo-giving-in or nothing, it all comes down to everything.
But I'm not backing down now, hell no! I will not give up any piece of me, for you.
Not for anybody. So eff* off.




*Notice how I used one word more politely than the other? It's because I am trying not to say the word "fuck" all the time, and the word "mindfuck" is an actual 'something' whereas "eff off" is allowed because I am technically not telling anyone to "fuck off".

Fish Chronicles: The Conclusion

Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that all the stupid fish died and I put the empty aquarium and the fish-killing filter in the garage.
The End
Who's stupid idea was a fucking fish tank, anyway?

Happy Getting Off Welfare Month!

Here it is, May already. Guess where I am right now as I am writing this? At work! I really really enjoy my job. Would you like to know what I am doing?
To put it simply, I am a welfare worker.
Yes, you read that correctly. The broke mom who tried so very hard to get off of the welfare system now works for the welfare system! As of this month, I make so much money, I don't qualify for public assistance. Anywhere.
Some friends who read this blog have asked me, "Are you going to change the name of your blog since you're not on government assistance anymore?"
Nope. My blog will still be Anyone For GovernmentAde?. However, now we'll see things from the other side. The side of the welfare worker, not the welfare mom. Rather than telling you about what a bitch my worker was, I can now tell you what I as a worker think of the applying public. And you can call me a bitch. Huh.
Good times...good times.

Things That I can Do At Work

I can go to the bathroom whenever I want. I don't have to tell anyone what I am doing. Nope, I just get up and go. And then I come back. When I want.

I sit at a desk all day. No cold roll-up doors. No dirt.

I brought a blanket with me. I keep it in a desk drawer. When I get chilly, I take out the blanket and put it over my lap. Then, when I am warm, I put it back in the drawer.

My days start and end at exactly the same time. My breaks are also all at the same time.

I can check my email at work. Heck, I now have an actual work email address!

I will soon have my own work phone with my own work voicemail.

I get benefits. I get retirement.

Best of all? I have a nametag with my picture on it! And a security badge to open the locked door! It just gets better and better...

My Epiphany

My last relationship wasn't so great. Hex did a lot for me. The bedroom activities were very nice. She tried to keep the house clean, she took care of the kids, cooked breakfast and dinner, made me lunch, she'd give me a backrub every night. In most ways, I had it made. I know what you're thinking, "How were things not so great?" I started thinking yesterday...about how controlling I was. Everything in my life has to be scheduled. I like order amongst the chaos.
I realized that throughout my relationship with Hex, I was very demanding about who she was. And Hex, having the emotional issues that she has, went along with it. I didn't like her smoking, so I bugged her until she stopped. I didn't like it when she wore boy's clothing, so I bugged her until she changed the way she looked. In my mind, I was helping her. But really what I was doing was trying to change her. I didn't like who she was, so I tried to change her into who I wanted her to be. Then we both just ended up not liking each other.
I have come to see some things a little more clearly lately. In order to fully love somebody, I have to love all parts of them. I can't just take the parts I like and then change the ones I don't like. Oh, and here's the kicker: Nobody will ever be perfect.
I was sitting here, making up lists of how I wanted my next love to be, what characteristics and traits I wanted her/him to have, until it hit me yesterday...no one is going to have all of these things. If I keep up the quest for The Perfect Someone, I am going to be disappointed. That Perfect Someone does not exist. And if by chance, there is someone who meets all of my specifications, who's to say that won't just piss me off after a while? How much fun can a perfect person be, anyways?
I have come to realize that I can love someone who is not perfect. Bad things happen to good people. So if I find somebody who doesn't own a car right now, or has bad credit, that is not going to ruin thier chances forever. After all, I've had to walk because I didn't have a car. I have bad credit, and I'm a good person. So he/she has a bad habit. Who doesn't??? I have lots of bad habits! I pee in the shower (mostly for convenience, really.) I am cluttered. I crunch ice. If someone tried to change me, I'd tell them to take a hike.
I will stop being so goshdarn picky. I will let the little things stop bothering me so much. And I will love the way love was meant to be, freely and without strings.

We Are The Music Makers...

I am five. Damn, I'm cute. That's my half-naked brother standing behind me.

Hey, You.

Now who looks stupid? Actually, you look pretty hot. For a guy in a dress, that is.

Kids Say The Darndest Things

I was talking to my youngest daughter on the phone tonight. At the end of our conversation, she said something that almost made me cry. She said, "Mommy, I love you so much, I could pee my pants."
Now that is love.

Wishing and Hoping. And Drinking

I found out what to do. I drink a lot. Well, not a lot. But enough to know that I think I don't wanna' drink anymore. And why don't I want to drink anymore? Aside from the bad tummy ache the next day?
I quit my job today. No, wait, it gets better!
I got a job today.

What Do I Do Now?

My children are both with their dad in Oregon. For one week.
What do I do???!!!
This is new. I've never just not had both of my children around.
I can only clean so much. Because then it's clean, and there aren't any kids around to mess it up!
I'm at a loss...I'll let you know when I figure it out.

More Fish Chronicles

Stupid Goldilocks got trapped in the filter today. This is three times!! I am going to write a nasty/sad letter to the company of the fish-killing filter.
So the tank now holds Snowy Mountain III and Goldy.

Chronicles of Fish

March 27th: Fish shopping. Bought aquarium and two guppies (named Snowy Mountain and Goldilocks), pretty rocks, glow-in-the-dark plants, and a shark figurine.

March 31: Found guppyfish Snowy Mountain belonging to youngest daughter dead, sucked up against the filter. Sad tears, *flush* "all drains lead to the ocean"--forgot about PetCo's 15 day guarantee!! Back to the store, we purchase a more durable set of goldfish, a gold fantail and a black goggle-eye. Tank is now home to three fish; Goldilocks, Snowy Mountain the 2nd, and Goldy. (My children are very original.)

This morning: Snowy Mountain II, again belonging to youngest daughter, sucked up against filter. Crap! Luckily, children are at school. Remember 15 day policy, grab fish and water sample and head over to Petco. Blah blah bacteria here buy some of this blah, I exchange SM2 for Snowy Mountain the Third, and head home to deceive, ahem, I mean place the fish in its new home. Gosh, SM3 sure did grow a bit overnight...must be that yummy fish food.

Tears Of A Clown

My friend K makes me listen to sad sad songs on the stereo. She says to me, "Well, if you don't want to be sad, then don't listen to them!"
But she doesn't realize that when she plays them in the living room, I can hear. Even if I cannot hear the words, I can hear the beat, so then I know what song it is, and I get sad.
Why do I get sad, do you ask?
Well, if you'd been reading this regularly, you'd know.
You'd know that I'm lonely for someone to want me. To think I'm beautiful. Someone to just want to be around me.
Or maybe you'd have to read between the lines to figure that out.
I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I have no one else to tell. I cry at night, every night. Every morning I wake up with a pounding headache and a stuffy nose from all the tears.
I cry when a sad song comes on the radio. I have decided that I'm going to buy waterproof mascara, because I'm so damn sick of being blinded, while driving, by my eye makeup running into my eyes.
I'm just so fucking lonely.
I will probably delete this in a day or two, because even to myself I sound pathetic. Pitiful.

There Are Starving People In Your Town

Yesterday was food stamp day. Believe me, things are pretty tight at the end of the month, so I always rejoice on the first because I can buy food. Yay!
But they didn't come. Not there. Where are they? Dunno'. Damn the government. Damn them.

Bad Mom Award

What do you do when your daughter complains that her head itches? If you were a good mom, you would check her head. If you were a good mom, you would realize that your daughter only complains of having an itchy head when she has bugs on it!!!
Bad mom!! Bad! Didn't you learn your lesson last time?? Apparently not! Here, I'm writing it down for next time:
When she says her head itches, check it!!
Check it, dammit!

Do It Yourself!

What part of "Self Check-Out" do you not understand?
Which part??!!
Say it with me now....self. Self! SELF!!
This means 'by yourself' , people. I will help you if you don't understand, yes. Will I do it for you? Will I scan all your items myself at my little podium while other self-checkers look on enviously? No.
Do it yourself!

Use Your Effing Listening Ears!

My children do not listen to me.
They will not clean their room. I tried asking. Pleading. Bribing. Yelling.
Do I have to cry? Refuse to buy them things if they don't clean? Can I withhold dinner until it's clean?
Where is the handbook on this stuff??!!

More Ani

"every angle"

i'm imagining your frame
every angle
and every plane
i'm imagining your smell
the one that mingled with mine
once upon a time
thoughts of you
are picketing my brain
they refuse
to work such long hours without rest
in unstable conditions at best
they're out there every day
holding up there signs
and thoughts of no other one but you
could possibly get through
the picket lines
to enter into my mind

i'm imagining your laugh again
the one you save for your family
and your very close friends
i'm imagining the way you say my name
i don't know when
i'm going to hear it again
my friends can't tell
my laughter from my cries
someone tell this photograph of you
to let go of my eyes

i'm imagining your frame
i'm imagining your smell
i'm imagining your laugh again
and the way you say my name

Someone Was Very Bored

Thank-you to Colby, who shared this with the group.

Needing a Cuddle Call

I am a girl who just plain likes to fuck. Simple as that. I enjoy sex, I am open with what I want, when and how I want it, and who I want it from. Hex and I have been broken up for about two months now. I've only been with one person since her. Strangely, at this point in my life, I am not craving sex. (Yearning? Jonesing?)I already went through that phase a few weeks ago, I think.
I am craving the cuddling. I don't need a booty call, I need what my friend K calls a "cuddle call". I miss the holding and wrapping my arms around someone. I miss burying my face into good-smelling hair, and I miss stretching my leg out under the covers and touching someone else's leg. I miss sliding my hand under the pillow and touching someone else's hand . It's not about anything sexual, it's just about the closeness with someone. But I don't think I could cuddle with just anyone, they would have to mean more to me than just sex. And if I had to choose between a relationship and a fuck, I would choose the latter. But that means I get no cuddles.

Reflections

I was listening to an older Ani Difranco cd on my way home from work, and these lyrics just spoke to me. It's from the song called "work your way out".


" i wonder what you look like
under your t-shirt
i wonder what you sound like
when you're not wearing words
i wonder what we have
when we're not pretending"

So I'll just go and reflect upon that for a little bit.

What's the Matter With Kids Today?

My nine year old daughter listens to some wierd music. There's this CD by these two chicks, Ally and AJ? Somethin' like that. She begged me to listen to it in the car while driving to school one morning, and I agreed. Basically, I heard your basic Disney-pop-wannabe-candycoated-drivel, but two songs stuck out. The first, and I don't know what it is called, was about this girl singing to her guy about leaving her alone and not suffocating the relationship too much, which, don't get me wrong, is a great idea. I want my daughter to know that's she can tell some guy to back off and it's okay. But come on! What kind of songs was I listening to at nine or ten? We'll get into that in a sec...
The second song was a remake of "Walking On Sunshine", which, when I was five years old, was my favorite song in the whole wide world. No contest. I had a copy of the song on a tape and I carried it around in my little brown Fisher-Price cassette recorder. I listened to it all the time. Until an unfortunate incident with a garage sale, but that's too painful to talk about right now. Anyhow, my youngest daughter (who is almost five) absolutely loves this song. And it makes me smile.
Songs I listened to when I was nine or ten? Lessee...
"Straight Up" by Paula Abdul.
"Love Shack" by the B-52s
"The Look" by Roxette
"Cold Hearted Snake" by Paula Abdul
"Like A Prayer" by Madonna

Do any of these songs talk about waiting and not getting too serious and backing off? Hmmm....straight up, do you really wanna' love me forever? Or am I caught in a hit-and-run? The love shack is a little-known place where we can get together. Bang! Bang! On the door, baby! Fire in the ice, naked to the T-bone Is a lover's disguise, banging on the head drum Shaking like a mad bull, she's got the look. He's a cold-hearted snake, look into his eyes...oh oh, he's been tellin' lies. When you call my name it's like a little prayer, I'm down on my knees I wanna' take you there.
1989 was a fun year, I tell you what.

Oh Lolli Lolli Lolli

When we moved into our new apartment we had to leave our cat. Well, we didn't leave him, we gave him to my mom. We miss him a lot, but that is another story. As a result of this "no cat policy" in our new apartment, wracked with guilt, I promised my little munchkins a little sumpin-sumpin.
A fish tank. An aquarium. A water-filled container with slimy aquatic creatures in it. Fun!
It is now time to purchase said tank and fish. My youngest daughter wants your basic goldfish. Cool. Easy to flush, easy to replace. (Was that out loud?)
I told her that we would also get a "sucker fish" to eat the stuff on the bottom of the tank. So she called her grandma today and said, "Gramma, I am getting a goldfish and a lollipop fish!"
I wonder what flavors those come in...

My Dirty Little Secret

My daughter won first prize for her science fair project. We did this project at the last minute. The results on which battery lasted the longest? Lies.
All lies.
I ran out of time and made it up. Like a single mom with a full-time job and two kids has the time to sit around and watch which battery lasts longer?? Fercryinoutloud!

So when you hear through the grapevine that a certain type of battery lasts longer than another, keep in mind that this data might have possibly come from a nine year old and her very busy, very stressed out science-fair hating mom.

How Old Is Harry Potter, Anyway?

My youngest said the cutest thing tonight. I let them watch the new Harry Potter movie before bed. I went in the bedroom to see how they were doing, and in all seriousness she says, "I don't like that Waldemo. He's bald. And sliiiiimy."
Good to know she's not attracted to slimy bald men.

Young and Toothless

My stepdaughter (Hex's daughter) lost her very first tooth today. Here we are, holding up her tooth in a plastic baggie...

The Promised Bar Pictures

Here I am at the bar on my birthday. Note the green tongue from all the green drinks. Why is my mouth open? I was telling K, "Hey, don't take my picture!" In the second picture you can tell I'm getting pretty sloshed. I look very content. I no longer cared about my picture being taken. See the two straws in front of me? Those are both mine.

In My Garden

So, remember that county job that I was interviewing for? Depending on my drug test results and background check, I got it.
I fucking got it!
Weekends off. No early mornings. No evenings. Double the income. Benefits. Need I say more?

Tequila Poppers at the Mexican Restaurant

This was the dinner part of my 27th birthday. That's half of my friend Laura in the green shirt. My kids were there, as were my mom, my dad, my brother, and my friend K.

I am thinking while this is being taken, "Oh my god I can't believe they are making me wear this stupid hat."

So after dinner we got to drink tequila poppers and yell, "Yee-haw!" And my mom got all teary because she was afraid I was going to drive drunk. And my brother was happy because, as he said, "You finally found yourself a man, huh? Good for you!" He was never okay with me being with a girl. And my dad was just tickled because he got to sit next to my mom during dinner, because he's totally still in love with her, even though he's married to somebody else.

Then my friends and I went to the bar (bar pics to come). My rule was I could only drink green drinks. But eventually the green drinks and all the cigarette smoke, not to mention the slutty-hoochie-bitches jampacked into one small room just made the night very distasteful. So I came home with my friends and we drunk-cell dialed people and ate cake while watching 'Dude, Where's My Car'.

Happy Birthday to me!

Dinner and Nothing

I met an old friend for dinner tonight after I got a tattoo. Okay, so he's actually an ex-boyfriend. This is the first boy who, at 15 years old, I really enjoyed sex with. The first person I can say I was honestly in love with.We hadn't seen each other in about ten years. Somehow we got to emailing each other, and then calling, and then dinner. And then nothing. It was strange, seeing him after all this time. He sounds the same, but older. He looks the same...just older. I realized that we had a lot of good memories together, and that makes me happy.
A new tattoo, and old friend, a pitcher of margaritas....what else could a girl ask for?

Last Night

My friend K is staying at my house for a while while she leaves her icky husband. I have known her since we were eleven years old, we grew up like sisters, so I let her sleep in my bed with me. That, and she has a bad back, and I don't want to hear her bitch all day about her pain level.
So, last night I awake at some crazy AM hour to her hand grabbing my breast! K was completely asleep, and she must have dreaming about something really good. I said, "Hey, what are you doing?" She snored and rolled over.
So I asked her this morning, "Hey, do you remember grabbing my boob last night?"
K says, "Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't mean to!!"

I really want to know what that dream was about.

Let Your Fingers Do The Walking

If I were bored and stoned, this is what I would do with candlewax and a marker...

My Saline Ocean

I miss her skin when I used to put my cold hands against it after work.
I miss her stories about her day. (Probably lies, but not the point.)
I miss wrapping my arms around her in the middle of the night.
I miss the way her hair smells.
I miss her kisses, I miss making love with her.
I miss having somebody to tell secrets to.
I miss always having somebody to talk to.
I miss having a best friend.

Tidbits About BrokeMom

Here are some more things you might not know about me...

I love the smell of Vicks Vapo-Rub. Absolutely freakin' love it. I would smell it all the time if I could.

I harbor a teeny tiny interest in auditioning for American Idol. My daughters say I would make it. And a nine and four year old know that kind of stuff. Really.

I never wear matching socks. Just can't do it.

I have my own method of organization, which is unknown to anyone else. Nobody gets it. But I can usually find exactly what it is I'm looking for. Unless, of course, I forget where it is. Which is not being unorganized. That's just forgetful.

After I cry about a former love, I get the urge to clean something. I cry and then I clean.
My garage is organized now. Amazing. I should be sad more often.

Daisies are my most favorite flower.

Wheat Thins with peanut-butter and a dab of honey is a most tasty snack.

Science Fair Fun

Third graders get to do science fair projects. As if I don't have enough to do, but whatever. My daughter's project is, "Which Battery Will Last the Longest?"
Energizer, Duracell, or Eveready?
She thought this was dumb. I thought it would be easy. Mom wins.
I had to act all excited and say, "No, honey, people really want to know which battery works the best! Think of all those parents out there who will now, thanks to your extensive research, be able to choose the best value for their hard-earned money!"
No, we're not growing sugar crystals. No, we're not popping corn. We're not allowed to build vocanoes. (Since when was building a volcano not educational??!!)
We're watching batteries.
I'll let you know the exciting results. It's your hard-earned money, after all.

Don't Say These Things To Your Cashier

If your cashier is standing by a big roll-up door and looks to be a bit chilly, don't say,
"Gee, you must have the cold spot!"
No shit buddy, you're only the hundredth person to say that to me.

If there is no tag on the item that you are purchasing, or the item just won't scan, don't say,
"Gee, I guess it must be free!"
Yeah, because I just give stuff away.

When you hand your cashier a one hundred dollar bill and she uses a counterfeit marker on it, don't say,
" I hope it passes, I just printed them up this morning!"
Everyone says this. You are not original. You are not funny.

When your cashier hands you your change and there happens to be two pennies with it, don't say,
"Heh heh, I guess I'll put my two cents in!"
Take yourself away from my register before I beat you.

When your cashier asks you if you're using a credit card or a debit card, don't say,
"Well it all comes out of the same account, why does it matter?"
It freakin' matters okay? I have to check ID with credit and I don't if it's debit! Do you think I'm just interested in what you have in your wallet?!

When you roll your cart up to the register and you have a child in it, don't ask,
"How much for the kid? We found him out back."
Please, joke about selling and buying children. That's funny.

And finally, don't say "Oh, I'll bet when [enter name of competitor's store here] gets to town, things will shape up here! You'll be sorry!"
Sir. Ma'am. They pay me to stand here and take your money. I have no loyalty to this particular company. Believe me, if the other company pays better, you'll see me there.

Magic 8 Ball Fun

Let us awe at the astounding answers that the Magic 8 Ball can reveal...shall we ask a question?

Do I have to go to work tomorrow? (I do.)
Magic ball says, "Concentrate and ask again."

Allright. Do I have to go to work tomorrow?
Magic Ball says, "As I see it yes."

Does my oldest daughter have pink-eye? (She is itching her eye and won't go to sleep.)
Magic Ball says, "As I see it yes."
Crap!

Am I a nympho? (My friend Jessica says I am.)
Magic Ball says, "Cannot predict now."

Will I have a one-night-stand so I can finally get laid and not worry about any emotional attachments?
Magic ball says,"My sources say no."
Crap again!!

Okay, will the guy I'm seeing get out of the hospital soon?
Magic Ball says, "You may rely on it."

Yeah, but will I get some?
Magic Ball says, "YES."
That's better!

Do I look skinnier now than I did a week ago? (I've lost seven lbs.)
Magic Ball says, "It is decidedly so."
Does the Ball have eyes?

Is the next American Idol going to be a complete goober?
Magic ball says, "As I see it yes."
I knew it.

One more time. Am I a nympho?
Magic Ball says, "YES."
Huh.

Liars And How I Hate Them

I hate liars. Have I ever mentioned that? Have I mentioned that Hex is a frequent offender? I found out from the old neighbors today that she never did quit smoking, like she said she did. Every time she boasted and bragged about being a non-smoker? Big. Fat. Lie. She allegedly would knock and bum a cigarette from them and smoke it behind the garage. The neighbor told me that sometimes they wouldn't answer the door because they knew it was her, and they didn't like her. I had no idea about any of this. So every time I would respond to her comments like, "I've been a nonsmoker for one year now! Aren't you proud of me?" I was responding to a lie.
All of my, "Oh honey, I'm so proud of you!" replies were to lies.
I feel used, but I should be used to it. I should have expected it. The girl cannot tell the truth. So I am going to stop feeling woe about the break-up. Because frankly, I'm glad I got out when I did.

Random Thoughts At Work

They need to change the name of permanent markers because I know of at least two substances that can remove "permanent" ink.

Just because I work in a building supply store doesn't mean that I know how to build stuff. I am a cashier. If I knew how to build this shit you're asking about, trust me...I wouldn't be here.

Bored At Work With A Measuring Tape

My counter, from diagonal corner to corner is 4 feet 4.5 inches long.
Lengthwise, it is 4 foot 1/2 inches long. It's 1 foot 9 inches wide.

A giftcard is 3.5 inches long.

My black shoe is 11 inches long.

Fascinating, isn't it?

I called down to the return counter where my friend Jessica was. She was sorting gift cards and looking at the black circles under her eyes.

This is what we do at 7am when it's raining and nobody is shopping.

My Ass

It's getting bigger. So I'm doing Atkins again.
Meat. Chicken, pork chops, bacon, ham, steak.
Eggs and cheese.
Salad.
More meat.
Carb bars.
Peanuts and almonds.
Water, Crystal Light, and Diet Pepsi.

That's it. But my scheduled cheat day is my birthday, the seventeenth. That's the day where I'm going to get shit-faced and eat cake. Not neccessarily in that order, however.

Want Sum

I am going through sex withdrawals. It is not fun, nope nope.
See, after Hex, there was this guy. I really should say, there is this guy. But last week he was in a motorcycle accident, and he is in the hospital with six broken ribs, a collapsed lung, and a broken ankle. Oh, he'll be fine.
But I miss the sex.
I am going crazy.
Which is silly, because it's just sex. Right? Maybe I am missing the closeness of someone. Whatever, I am not going to psychoanalyze myself right now, I just want an orgasm.

I'm Listening To You

I hate listening to you. You talk about all these new people in your life. What will I do when I actually see you with someone new? Sure, it's okay for me to be with someone. And logically, it's okay for you to be with someone new. I see the look in your eyes. I know that you are tired, I know you feel defeated. I know you realize that you did this to yourself. But it doesn't stop me from wanting to shake you and tell you to get your shit together.
I will hate her. Whoever she is, whenever she shows up. She will never know the you that I know.
She will never see the you inside that I see.
She will never understand the you that I understand.
That she will touch the body that I touched will kill me. But it's not mine to touch anymore. To think that her touch will elicit the responses that my touch did...
I understand now why you hate him so much. How you can hate someone you don't even know. I hate someone who doesn't even exist yet.


I don't want a life with you any longer. So why is it so hard to let you go?

Washing and Drying. But Not Folding.

In the superfun magical world that I have recently had to visit all alone, called Laundry, I've met some new friends called Pockets. One must empty them before bad things happen.

Boys Are Stupid

Dating a guy is way different from dating a girl. There are drawbacks and advantages to both. For instance,
Girls always want to talk about the way they feel.
Guys very rarely talk about their feelings. They never ask, "How are you feeling?" When you get depressed, they ask, "What's up your butt?"
Nothing is up my butt. I'm just a little sad. Sorry you cannot handle that!
But sometimes it's nice to not worry about talking about feelings. Things are just what they are, no in-depth talks about emotions. Nice.
Boys have hairy faces and stinky feet. Well, I know some girls who do also, but I would never date them.
Boys go to their friend's house to buy something (not pot) and then won't come over like they said they would because they're too stoned. And they drive a motorcycle and they whine because it's too cold out. Boo-hoo. What the hell did you expect?

Uh-Huh Uh-Huh Uh-Huh

My house is still clean, la la la la la la.
Clean clean clean.

Ice Trays

Ice trays are not magical refilling containers. You actually have to fill them up with water once you've used the ice cubes, and that makes more ice cubes.
Who knew?

Home, Sweet Home

I did it.
I am in my own apartment, just me and my two kids.
I bought new towels and potholders and drinking glasses. I bought new sheets for my bed, a new comforter, and a new pillow.
I bought bottled water for my fridge.
If I make a mess, I know that I will have to clean it up later. That's comforting. So I just don't make a mess. Well, I clean it up right away so I don't have to later.
I can sleep in the middle of the bed, and roll over and not squish anyone.
My children are adjusting quite well.

Hex is telling people all sorts of stories about me to anyone who will listen, such as
I'm seeing someone new (this is true)
It's a guy (also true)
I ask her to babysit so I can see this guy (this is not true)
and so on and so on.
She talks shit behind my back and then calls and asks me for a favor. And what do I do? I do it. Why? I dunno'. My reason for splitting up with her was because there was this guy that she wouldn't get rid of. They were attached at the hip, she dragged him around everywhere with her, and she wouldn't let me be in the same room alone with him. She wouldn't let me talk to him. She told him that I wanted to sleep with him and get pregnant with his baby (this is not true). I'm not sure as to what else she told him, but knowing her track record, it was mostly lies. Hex couldn't tell the truth if it bit her on the ass.
And on that note, here's a toast to me, a woman who knows her own mind. A woman who refuses to live with a liar and a pothead and a thief, a woman who wants the best for her children, a woman who is finding herself under all this mess. And I'd like to quote a line from a favorite Ani song,
"I am an all-powerful Amazon warrior, not just some snivelling girl."
That's me.