Tuesday, October 6, 2009

My bad

Is it bad to have a glass (or two) of wine before class???

I'm hoping that it's not, because I am on my second glass. Bad, I know.

Class starts at 6pm, and is pretty *dry* - Operations Management - and I haven't done ONE thing for the final project that is due next Tuesday. Did I mention that there are five us in the group, and the project will be about 30 pages total? And that they all need my contribution first to get going on theirs? Crap.

Oh - and I can't use my personal situation this week as an excuse. Tonight is the 6th week we've been in this class. In those 6 weeks: two of us have had spouses move out; one has had her fiancee diagnosed with cancer; one has her MIL in the hospital - dying; two of us have had the stomach flu; one of us has had the swine flu. We have been having SO MUCH FUN!!!!

I think I just need to get my ass in gear. Can anyone put a bottle of wine on a stick and entice me with it?

Sunday, October 4, 2009

A new day

It's all good.

My house has laughter and noise in it again. Food cooking in the oven; bread baking; dogs sleeping; kids wrestling over the Wii.

I am happy, and I am sad.

It didn't have to get where it was, but it did. And now I'm fixing it, and it is working.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

I know that I should be feeling something other than relief. But, no. It's mostly relief.

It was not a pretty night. There was no family sitting around the fireplace playing Monopoly while the dog slept in the recliner. But it did start out good. I came home from school, and my daughter came upstairs with me and we watched TV together in my bed. She was working on her homework. It was nice. Especially because he wasn't home. Always less tension when he's not here.

And then the door slamming began. As it has been for the past couple of weeks. And then the heavy, angry footsteps coming upstairs. He opened the bedroom door, and stood there all angry and puffed up (with his anger). Accused us of locking him out of the house. It was a stupid, unintentional mistake. It is a busy household. There are four cars total in the house now that my brother is living here. My brother came home and thought that everyone was here - all the cars were in the driveway. He did what the last person home always does - shuts the garage door, turns off the garage lights, and throws the deadbolt on the door into the house. And yes, you guessed it - he wasn't home yet. Thus the accusation that we locked him out.

We tried to tell him that we hadn't done it on purpose; that it was unintentional. There is no reasoning with a drunk; a lesson I have learned over the past twenty years. I gave up and went back downstairs to finish Hawthorne (great show!), and he followed me down (as did our daughter). She is a peacemaker - like I am - but she hasn't learned the lessons that I have finally learned after 20 years. There is no making peace when he's reached that point. She hugged him, told him she loved him, and that no one was locking him out. And as I was coming out of the bathroom, he gave me the finger. Nice. Especially nice in front of her. The *hate* coming from his eyes was scary. That was when I *finally* came to the realization that this situation has escalated beyond my control, and I need help. And I need to do something. Now. Immediately. There can be no more waiting.

I went back upstairs, as did my daughter. We watched a little more of the show; my brother came into the bed with us and watched TV with us. He said he had been cowering in his room. He was upset that he thought he was the cause of all of this.

Daughter went to take a shower; brother went back to his room. And then again with those footsteps on the stairs. Fuck. He *never* comes back up; he always passes out at that point on the couch.

"You win. You win. You win. You win. I can't live like this anymore. I'm out of here. You win. I'm out of here." Repeat. And then he left.

My brother is worried. He is worried about my safety. He is worried about my lack of understanding of the seriousness of what is going on. And he is right. I didn't see it clearly until tonight that this situation has escalated beyond my control, and it is not good for anyone. I thought I was doing the right thing for the kids; him still living here; keeping the house. It is not the right thing. My daughter is afraid. She told me tonight. She is afraid he'll do something to hurt me, and even them.

It is time. And so I am up at 1:00am on a Wednesday early morning. Fully dressed; glasses on; purse at my side. Cell phone charged and next to me. And I wait for morning to come. It is done, and I am ready to face it.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

I know that all of the other bloggers out there will say - "Never apologize for not writing." I can't help it - I have to apologize - I am sorry for not being around. I have missed all of you, and I've missed writing. Venting is good for my sanity.

I just haven't been able to pull together enough energy to write anything decent (and by the sounds of it already, this post proves it!).

So - what have I been doing for the past month????

The house that I was working so hard to get closed (the one that I had to paint the interior of for the buyers) - didn't close. Title issues. Will most likely never close. Will be going to foreclosure. One year of my time. No commission. And I had hired three contractors to do the necessary work so that it would close - they won't get paid either. That was FUN.

The school that I work at and do the scheduling for? Yeah - I had to do THREE master schedules. That was FUN.

But - it wasn't all bad. My brother did move up here from Florida, and it is like a gust of fresh air in the house. My kids are happy that he is here as well (especially when he fixed everything wrong with Crabby's car - for under $20).

I DID finally complete a master schedule for the school I work at.

Crabby got financial aid from the government. Granted, it will have to be paid back, but now that I'm not getting that nice commission, it sure came in the nick of time!

I got a full financial aid package (again, will need to be paid back) so that I can complete my senior year for my BSBA. I start on Monday - FIVE COURSES EACH SEMESTER. Egads.

I went to an open house for graduate school - actually - LAW SCHOOL. Call me crazy, but I'm considering it....

I went to the beach twice. That was NICE.

And finally, my "friend"'s cat had kittens - three of them. And they are adorable. They are four weeks old now, and just starting to explore. And yes, I am probably going to take one (hopefully not two!) when they are ready to leave the mom in October. So - that will make a household of me, two kids, my brother, two dogs, two cats, and a TON of fur balls - as I will not be vacuuming again for the next year with my work and school schedule!

Maybe I can knit up the fur?

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

WTF Wednesday

I am just plain beat up this week.

Had a blow-out with the soon-to-be-ex on Monday night. My brother - who lives many states away - has lost his job. The area he lives in has terrible unemployment rates (about 15%). There are no jobs to be had. I invited him to stay with us and to try and get a job up here so that he can get back on his feet. Basically, the soon-to-be-ex is an a**hole (that's why he is a soon-to-be-ex), and was giving me a hard time about having my brother stay with us. It's all a control thing - the gist of it was that if only we weren't having these marital troubles, and going through a divorce, well, then, it would be just fine if he came up and stayed with us. (Hidden meaning - drop the divorce stuff and then your brother can stay). Not. So that was my Monday night. Of course, the kids heard everything.

Now Tuesday. Has to get better right? I can't have two shitty days in a row, can I??

Background: I have a house that I've had on the market for nearly a year now. It has been one nightmare after another. It finally looks like we are going to be able to close the deal next Tuesday (which will pay for Crabby's tuition).

When the house was winterized last October, the company that provided that "service" didn't actually winterize it. They admitted fault. They came out and fixed all the radiators, but never pressurized the boiler and water lines, and thus it was discovered that *every* pipe in the house had burst. Long story short - got a new buyer; got their deposit money; contacted a plumber to make the repairs prior to this buyer's home inspection. I told the plumbing company that the bank (as it is a short sale) has only allocated $X for the plumbing repairs. They have also allocated $Y for electrical repairs, and $Z for re-insulating, patching the walls & ceilings and painting.

Electrical repairs went fine. Got the invoice for exactly $Y.
Got the bill for the plumbing repair yesterday. It was for $X PLUS $517.

These repairs HAD to be made, otherwise the buyers wouldn't buy the house. And I need that stinkin' commission. All of it. Not my cut MINUS that $517. But, that $517 has to come from somewhere.

So....I am at the house this week painting the walls and ceilings with Kilz, and then with ceiling paint (so that the $517 for the plumber can come out of the $Z). Following me so far????

I worked my day job all day, and headed out to this house around 4pm. Soon-to-be-ex calls me when I'm driving out there, and wants to know if I'll be home for dinner. I told him that I was hoping I'd be done by 8pm, and that I'd eat leftovers when I get home. Didn't finish up for the night until 9pm, and went out for ONE drink, and then home. Had eaten one measly Celeste pizza all day. Go to the fridge (I know he cooked dinner), and NOTHING. No plate; no leftovers; no dinner. Nice. He had cooked *just* enough for him and the kids.

It's okay. I can deal. I decide to have a glass of wine for my supper, and sit down to catch "Saving Grace" (I LOVE that show). Crabby joins me in the living room. Just chit-chatting; she wanted to know where I had been, what I had been doing. I explain to her about all of the above ......

And she says to me, "You're just taking this on because you WANT to. You're doing this because you don't want to be HERE."


Absolutely, honey. I SO want to be painting some effing garage at nine o'clock at night after I've worked a full day already. And knowing that I have at least two more nights of work just like tonight. And Crabby, by the way, I'm doing this for your tuition. In case you forgot.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Backyard adventures

I just finished working a full, full day at work. And then I come home to begin doing all my real estate work - countless telephone calls, emails, appointments, etc. I actually got caught up on what I had to get done - doesn't happen often. I was sitting on my deck, enjoying a glass of wine, and the sun. The sun! My God - we've had rain every day for over a month. It was actually quite warm, but I was lazy. I kept looking at the pool. It was all sparkly and blue - and clean! I grabbed the thermometer out of the pool - it had actually warmed up to 78 degrees. Couldn't be more perfect.

I took a glance around my yard, and to the house on either side of me. I have a relatively private backyard - tons of trees. One house definitely can't see me - there is a fence between us. The house on the other side had been vacant for years, but now has a family living in it (a family that unfortunately likes to visit with me often). Anyways, it seemed that they were all still at work. I was too lazy to run upstairs and try and find a swimsuit in the mess of my closet. I figured, "What the hell; panties and a bra are just like a bathing suit." So, I shed my capri's and jumped in.

Oh, it was soooo refreshing. It is amazing how that water cools you off, and relaxes you instantly. I floated around for a while, just enjoying the sun on my face, and birds chirping.

And then I started to hear some noises. Coming from next door. They were home. And they were outside in their yard. Crap. Not a problem, I thought. I can get out of the pool quickly and scoot into the house.

Um. Except the ladder hadn't been put in the pool yet. Oh yeah. That was *fun*.

Riding in cars with "boys"

I did go for that ride that I mentioned in my last post - but not on the motorcycle.

I've been chatting with Paul off and on via Facebook, and on the phone. I hesitate to even write about it, as it feels very personal.

It is such an odd feeling that I get when I see his number come up on my cell phone. I feel like the 17 year old girl that I was when I first knew him - I get all tongue-tied and shy. That is not a comfortable feeling; I have worked very hard to get beyond that girl that I once was, and I am not thrilled with myself for so easily falling back into it.

Don't get me wrong - I thoroughly enjoy our conversations. I laugh; I cry; we reminisce. It is absolutely wonderful, and I look forward to talking to him again. I hope that once we run out filling each in on what has happened to us in the past 25+ years, that we can still continue talking to each other. I enjoy having him back in my life, and I am happy to count him as a friend. But, I just want it to be more of the grown-up version of me, instead of that 17 year old girl.

He called me last night. I had just gotten home after two disastrous real estate showings. He asked if I was home, and if I'd like to go for a ride. He had to go pick up his son (about two miles from my house), and thought I'd like to come for a ride. Yes - I would! It was a bit awkward leaving the house; I didn't want him to come in. The situation between me and my husband is very uncomfortable, and I don't like exposing anyone to that. I *heard* him pull in the driveway, and I booted it out of the house. Just gave a yell out to all that I was going for a ride and would be home shortly.

I'm terrible with cars - I just know it was a lovely older Mustang convertible (and loud!). We took a short ride around my area, and then he brought me to pick up his son. When he invited me for the ride, he had said that his son was at a friends house. Um, no. Son was at grandparents house (his first wife's parents). I don't think I would have gone if I had known that, and maybe that is why he didn't tell me. At any rate, it all turned out fine. His in-laws are fantastic, down-to-earth, wonderful people. And his son is absolutely adorable.

I was gone all of maybe 20, 30 minutes at most. But it was wonderful. I haven't just gone out to ride in a car with a "boy" since I was a teenager. I *always* have a destination; an errand; an appointment; something. I never just go for a ride. And it was incredibly relaxing. A perfect summer night, top down on the car, good conversation and music, and wind blowing through my hair. Maybe that 17 year old in me still has something to teach me.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Full circle

I honestly believe that there are no coincidences; things happen because they are meant to happen. Good or bad. We just don't know the reason for them.

This whole Facebook phenomenon - crazy, but really interesting. Shortly after I posted about Kevin, I happened (purely by chance) to get in touch with his twin brother, Paul. It wasn't like Paul had read my blog or anything like that - I keep this completely anonymous. We just happened to "meet" again on Facebook. Funny, but sad, thing is - he sent me a message on FB about our teacher, Mr. Dwyer. He had just passed away. It was in Dick's class that I had met Kevin, and started dating him. And I had forgotten that Paul was in that same class. Funny how your memory works. I did not remember that. We shot a couple of messages back and forth over the next couple of weeks. And out of anyone from high school, Paul was the one person that I wanted to make contact with. We were friends back then; we even double-dated to a prom after Kevin and I had broken up. I liked him; he liked me. But it just would have been too weird.

Anyways. Paul called me on my cell the night before my birthday. It was around 8:30 on a Tuesday night, and no, I wasn't at home - I was at Crapplebee's. He came to meet me there.

(But damn, do you think the guy could have given me a little more notice? I mean, really. It had been only 27 years since I've seen him. And I would have liked to at least been wearing some cute jeans, done my hair, had make-up on, lose 20 pounds, etc. But, no. I don't have that kind of luck. No - I only get to see people after I've worked two jobs in a day and am completely exhausted. But on the plus side - no pun intended - that extra 20 lbs. are what have given me boobs. Finally. And yes, they were noticed. :) ).

Anyways, I wouldn't have changed anything. What a trip. We talked, and talked, and talked some more. Life, death, love, Kevin, our kids, our lives. We talked about the past, and the present. It was only for two hours, but it was a lifetime. I learned a lot - mostly about myself.

Kevin had been the one in my life without "closure" - whatever the fuck that really means. I had wondered at times - "what if?". What if I had sought him out way back when, instead of being so shy? What if I had slept with him? Should I have? I ask these questions because I am questioning the choices I have made in my life. Did I make the right choices at the time? Should I have married who I did? I know now that my martial partner is not the right choice for me, but did I know that then? And did I ignore my gut? What else have I screwed up?? What else should I have done different??

After Paul and I talked, I realized that my "gut" was on target even way back then. I had forgotten. Time tends to do that to you. Turns out that Kevin liked to fuck anyone in a skirt. And I was NOT one of his conquests. Phew. That's not to say that he wasn't all that I said he was - he was. And in my memories he will always be the way I remember him. But, I think I need to trust myself more. Even at 17, my gut was on the mark. And it probably still is today at 45.

Full circle. Every person I mentioned in that post, I have made contact with over the past month, in one way or another. How strange is that? And how wonderful.

And Paul has invited me to go for a ride on his Harley this summer. I haven't decided whether or not to go. My daughter ("Crabby") would be mortified (might just be worth it for that reason alone!); my bf will be jealous (he already said that that sounds like a date). I think that I will need to trust my gut. And whatever decision I make, it will be mine.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Ghosts?? Introduce yourselves, please!

I was 12 years old. You know - that totally awkward age - knobby knees, no boobs, and trying so hard to be cool. I read in some magazine how to read palms. It was shortly after that, that my cousin, Beth, came to visit. She was the oldest of all the cousins, and was so *cool*. She was a psychiatric nurse, and had incredible stories. It was an EVENT when she would come up to visit. I was so enthralled with her. This was the 70's, and she was the stereotype of a 21 year old in the 70's.

I remember her last visit at our house; at least I think I do. I remember her laughing with my parents - they thought she was pretty cool too. And she felt the same about them. And she never laughed at my attempts to be cool myself. I remember bringing her breakfast in bed. I remember reading her palm. And her listening to me so seriously. And I felt bad - like I had done something terribly wrong. Her lifeline was so short. What did I know at 12 years old? No one had died yet in my family. I didn't know anyone that had died. Maybe death was a myth after all. I told her that her lifeline ended at 22. I remember her laughing. And I felt better. She wasn't laughing at me; she was laughing at death. She must be right; I must be wrong. What the fuck did I know about life and death?

It was only a month (two, three??) after that visit that our telephone rang in the middle of the night. I woke at the first ring, and I already knew. Before my parents had even stopped the ringing of the phone. Before they had even said even one word into the receiver. I already knew. Beth was dead. And it was my fault; I had already predicted it. She had just turned 22.
Killed by a drunk driver. She was on her way home from work at the hospital. It was Mother's Day.

And that was both the beginning and an end for me.

I don't look at anyone's palms. I don't predict their futures. I know that you may be thinking - that was a coincidence. I don't think it was. There have been many other unexplainable things that have happened a lot like that, and I'm only going to touch upon a few.

When my grandfather died - I knew it before the phone rang. I was 13 then. I remember my father answering the phone - it wasn't late at all, and my mother coming into my bedroom to see if I was alright. She didn't even know yet, but I did. I couldn't stop shaking.

I didn't tell my parents about either of those events. But, I can tell you, it scared the shit out of me.

When my mother was dying - I didn't see it coming. Didn't predict that one at all. But - the phone rang - a night or two after she died - before the wake and funeral. I told my dad the next morning about the man that I had spoken to that night about mom, her death, and the arrangements. He told me that that was impossible. That man had died over 20 years earlier. I had never met him; never heard his name before. But that is who I spoke to on the phone that night.

When I bought the home I am in now - a house that was my dream house - I remember feeling as if everyone I loved that had passed was shoving me aside to get inside to see it (right before we closed on it, I had to come in and get the water meter reading) - I was alone. It was an incredible feeling - not scary - a feeling of absolute LOVE. That family that I have loved, and that were gone, were actually still there - still there WITH me.

I do believe that people you have loved, that have passed, are able to come to you in your dreams. It is probably the easiest way for them to reach you. Your mind is willing to let them in. I have had my parents "visit" me many times in this manner, and it has usually been a comfort to me. (not so much when my mother visited me and wanted to know why I had given away all of her clothes. that was hard. or when I dream that she is really alive, hadn't died all those years ago, but is dying again. those dreams SUCK).

Anyways. Here is the thing. Whenever I am "visited", I always know who the visitor is. I just know. I can't explain it - their presence explains who they are. However, this week, I had a "visit", and I didn't know who it was. And that was kind of scary.

You know when you are just falling off to sleep? You are kind of asleep, but kind of awake? That limbo time. That is where I was. And someone was rubbing my head. It was so nice. I remember even moaning in thanks for a good head rub. And then I came immediately to my senses. HELLO - there is NO ONE in my bed that would be doing that!!! WTF??? I woke COMPLETELY up. Disoriented. Looking around. Nope - all is the way it is. Estranged husband on other side of bed (I told you before it was complicated) - back turned to me. No dogs up in bed with me. I lie back down. I must have been dreaming. I close my eyes. Start to settle back down. And then I feel someone sit down at the foot of the bed.

I sit bolt upright. No one there. Repeat this entire episode about 5 times. Obviously - not the best night for sleep. And it has been bothering me for days now.

So. To all you ghosts out there - please, at least introduce yourselves. If you think that you are on familiar enough grounds to rub my head, at least tell me who the fuck you are. It is only polite.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Finally. Progress. I have learned a couple of things over these past few weeks.

#1 Lesson learned

Getting something done feels *much* better than procrastinating about it. I finally paid all of our bills. Only two months behind on the mortgage. Caught up on everything else. I think I may sleep tonight.

#2 Lesson learned

Ignoring the pile of bills in my bag will NOT make them go away. I thought that if maybe I carried them around with me everyday, that would be as good as actually taking taking of them. Ummm, nope, it isn't.

Phone call received from (crabby) 18 year old daughter (while I am at work - in a meeting, no less) -

Crabby - "Mom. The stove isn't working. And I am hungry. "
Me - "Well, Crabby, what would you like me to do about it? I'm at work. Make something else."
Crabby - "I don't want something else. I want hash browns. Why can't I light it with a match?"
Me - "Because, Crabby, I don't want you to blow up. Wait until I get home." (this is said very, very slowly and patiently).
Crabby - "Fine." Hangs up phone.

One hour later. Phone rings - I'm still in meeting. Crabby again on the line.

Crabby - "I know why the stove isn't working." (said very pissily - if that is a word)
Me - "Why?" (with a sinking feeling in my stomach)
Crabby - "Because our gas was shut off!!!!!"
Me - "Fuck."

Oh yeah, folks. That was so much *fun*.

#3 Lesson learned

The mailbox does not have to be my enemy. I ignore my mailbox. I hate to open it. There is nothing in there but stuff that I shove into my brown bag and carry around with me - it is a literal monkey on my back.

However, today, I took a stand. I am not going to let this fucking mailbox run my life. And I am going to empty out my brown bag and only put things that I like in it. And I will deal with the shit I don't like. So, I emptied the mailbox. And yes, all of the crap bills were in there - but I dealt with them. But there was more than just bills in there.

There was a check for $62 for Crabby in there (refund on security deposit on her dorm room); a check for the Boy who lives in the Room above the Garage - $19 from the Federal Government; AND - drum roll please . . . .

A letter for me. I was awarded a $1000 scholarship towards my tuition for the Fall semester.

Thank you, God. I really needed that this week.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Baby steps

I am taking your advice - I am breaking down all of the baloney that I need to get done into some tiny, tiny baby steps!

1. Clean out purse of about 101 receipts. Stuff into a big envelope. Shove under desk at work.
2. Update Quicken file on-line. Cry when I see the balance in the account.
3. Pull loan modification out of my bag and stack it up nice and neat on my desk.
4. Stare at it for 10 minutes.
5. Go outside and smoke a cigarette.
6. Make conversation with the custodians.
7. Put loan modification paperwork back into my bag and go home for the day.
8. Arrive home; pour a healthy glass of merlot.
9. Listen to eldest bitch about she has so much to do, and not enough time to get it done in (note: I was home at lunch until 1pm, and she was still in bed).
10. Check all of my email accounts for the millionth time today. Respond to anything. (wishing that I had more joke email in my account so I could forward it)
11. Hunt down the thermometer to take son's temp - swine flu around these parts. Temp is normal. No swine flu.
12. Go into bathroom to find a clip to get my hair out of my face. How can I possibly work with my hair all in my face???
13. Look for TV clicker. Decide I'd be able to work better if Law and Order is on in the background. Can't find effing clicker.
14. Go out on deck for another butt. Take call from lien holder's attorney. Bat options back and forth.
15. Stare at bag on floor next to me (with the loan paperwork and ALL of our bills). Wish it would spontaneously combust.
16. Hit spell check on post, and see that it does not like the word "combust". WTF? That's a real word, isn't it??
17. Realize I still haven't found the effing clicker. Yell to non-swine flu son and ask him to get me the clicker from my bedroom.
18. Listen to daughter sigh. It's a hard life. Housework sucks.
19. Pull flashdrive out of bag and get Quicken updated on laptop. Cry when I see the balance. Was hoping that it would somehow change on my ride home from work.
20. Write a post instead of pulling that DAMN paperwork out of my bag.

See, folks - baby steps! It works!
(just kidding - I'm going to work on it now. Damn. I need another glass of wine).

Monday, June 15, 2009

Update on WTF

My thanks to all of you who responded to one of my previous posts about a family situation (niece living with me, etc.). See a previous post titled "WTF".

An update -

I had to go back to court on Friday with my sister-in-law. We were called in by her ex's divorce attorney's, because they want to get paid. They think that the value of the home is worth more than the two offers that I have on it (read above post - that will give you a *slight* idea as to the condition of the home).

So - my sister-in-law is most likely going to have to pay for a totally unnecessary appraisal (which will run her about $650), which is going to say that the value of the property is crap. Which I have already determined. And - it is money that she doesn't have to spend.

Good news - I did finally get the *entire* family out of the house and into their apartment. And it only took me two weeks to get them all out! AND - will the fun ever end - one of the multitudes of cats in the house HAD A LITTER! Oh joy! Now I have 13 cats to try and find a home for. And did I mention - I'm allergic??? So every time I go over to the house I break out into hives! Yes - I am having *so* much fun! (um, and I think one of the other ones is in heat, and is trying to hook up with one of her sons).

I was able to get some donations for my sister-in-law of sheets, blankets, comforters, towels, etc. (she couldn't take any of that with her; the smell that was on anything "soft" in the house couldn't be moved). Now I'm working on helping her to get food stamps and some furniture (dressers and a bed for her). However, it is hard to get her to sit down and do the necessary paperwork. However - the daughter (my niece) is now living back with her mom. Funny though, my laundry didn't seem to decline at all! What is up with that??

So - we are playing a waiting game right now. Waiting for her to get an appraisal; buyers waiting to possibly buy; attorneys waiting to get paid; lien holder (her father - my father-in-law) waiting to get paid. And me shagging all of the phone calls from all of the above!

Never boring . . . .
Procrastination seems to be my middle name these days. If there is something I can put off (cleaning the house; paying bills; doing my loan modification; filing for bankruptcy; filing for divorce), then by golly, I am putting it off! And it is driving me nuts. As a result of not DOING the really important things that I should be doing, I'm not doing ANYTHING. And that includes posting. About the only thing these days that I have energy to do is laundry. Okay - it's not because I have the energy to do, it is only because I absolutely MUST do it.

I'm excellent at making all kinds of excuses. Busy at work. Busy with second job - working until 8 or so at night, plus weekends. Too much laundry to do. Hung-over (okay, that's not such a good one).

What is my problem??? I think it goes a lot deeper than just simple laziness.

I think I am afraid. Afraid of the big changes that are going to result when I take care of the shit on the above list (and no, I'm not talking about cleaning the house). Afraid that the mortgage company won't give me a loan modification, and then how in the hell am I going to be able to keep the house? Afraid of actually filing for divorce - please don't laugh here folks - cuz I don't want to hurt his feelings (not to mention the guilt because of the kids). OMG - can you believe that??? Thank God my sister doesn't read this blog. She would *kill* me. This crap is not easy. And I hate thinking about it constantly. And waking up at 4am in a panic thinking about it. And I hate that I can't get the house cleaned because all that I think of is the other more important stuff I should be doing.

I'm scared. And I hate that feeling. I'm afraid of the unknown. Can I make it on my own? Will the kids be scarred? Can we divorce without it being nasty? Can I keep the house?

Thanks for listening. I already feel better. Now if I could just finish up that damn loan modification . . .


Tuesday, May 26, 2009


I think my favorite phrase is "WTF?". I seem to be either saying it or thinking it SEVERAL times a day.

I've mentioned in some of my past posts that I have my 15 year old niece living with us. It is due to some odd circumstances . . . .

My sister-in-law (yeah - my husband's sister) called me back in March. Turns out she was in some trouble with the courts - they were finding her in contempt of court for not selling her house in accordance to the divorce decree (which had been official in March a year ago). I got her a cracker-jack attorney, and took a vacation day to go with her to court. Because of my good deed, she got off on the contempt charge, and I hit the jackpot - I will be found in contempt if I don't sell her home by July 26th. I'm a realtor; it is what I do - sell houses. How hard could it be (famous last words)? I've been doing this for a while now ..... piece of cake. NOT.

I get the house key from my sister-in-law and head over to the property so that I can get started. I don't even know where to begin here . . . have you ever seen one of those really, really bad houses on "Cops"?? This was worse. I could smell the cat piss from over 10 ft away from the door.

I hadn't been in this house for over 20 years - and that was only one time. And she only lives about 5 minutes from me. She never hosted any family gatherings; never had a birthday or a holiday at her house; never had a niece of nephew sleep over. We all knew there were problems with her husband, but didn't really know the full extent. He has been out of the house since this past December - the middle child (age 19) had to go to court and file a restraining order against him after he *punched* her square in the face. He is now living in an abandoned warehouse somewhere in the city. It turns out - and I'm not a psychologist - that he is a combination of hoarder and schizo or bipolar. Messy business.

Anyways, I go into the house. The aroma was enough to make me gag. Minimum of ten cats (that is all that I saw to actually count). Turns out they have been cross-fucking each other. Nize. All of the furniture is trashed. Nothing is salvageable. My 23 year old nephew never leaves his basement bedroom. My 20 year old niece sleeps on the basement floor on top of blankets. My 15 year old niece shares a bed with her mother. It is a 2-family house, and the trash and crap in the staircases (front & back) make it impossible to navigate. I do finally make it up to the 2nd floor. The crap is literally floor to ceiling, with only a skinny aisle way throughout the entire apartment. Propane tanks lining the staircases (and no working smoke detectors). And these are his "treasures". He calls my sister-in-law every week to threaten her - "You better not be getting rid of my stuff!".

I meet my sister-in-law after she gets out of work that day. I tell her that I am a mandated reporter to DCF (Dept. of Children & Families) and that the minor child can not be living in those conditions. That she can either place the child with me, or take her chances with DCF. She lets me take my niece to my house; she doesn't fight me at all. I cried when I got home that night. The worst part was that she didn't fight me.

That was in March. It is now almost June, and she has made little progress in getting out of that firetrap.

I've brought her to apartment after apartment. I found her a *great* one. In her price range, neighborhood she's happy with, 3 large bedrooms, HUGE bathroom, nice kitchen (fully applianced) and a parlour/living room combo. Hardwoods throughout, and clean, clean, clean. And washer/dryer in the basement - no more lugging dirty laundry to the laundromat.

She is supposed to move in for June 1st. Less than a week away. Has she talked to the other realtor yet? Has she signed the contract yet? Do I still have her kid?? Oh yeah. No progress. She just came over, and I just about *sat* on her to get her to talk to the other realtor. Contract will be emailed to me tomorrow, and I will sit on her again to have her sign it. And if she doesn't take back custody of HER KID by mid-June, I will contact DCF myself. Hard to say that, but I will. If I were in her shoes, I would have had an apartment within a week. WTF. (you see why I keep saying that???)

And, as I think most of you know, the situation between my husband and I is strained (God, that is an understatement). His latest "threat" to me is to tell my sister-in-law to just take her kid home. Boy, I chewed him up one-side and down the other for that. I asked him if he wanted to take the blame when she ends up in some crappy foster home because he is an asshole. Turns out, he doesn't. Doesn't surprise me; not much that he wants to take responsibility for! LOL.

Wish me luck (and diplomacy). I do love my niece, but she does *not* love being here. She wants to be with her family, and she only sees me as the person who took her away from that. I get it; she is just 15.

Trust me on this - I *will* be the asshole in this entire mess! I took her kid away from her; I forced them out of their home; I sold the house for pennies and gypped everyone out of a profit (oh yeah - did I mention that my father-in-law is the lien-holder on the property???). My life is NOT dull. Thank you all for listening. It helps to vent.


Folks - don't be shy. Please comment. Am I doing the right thing?? Should I back off??

Monday, May 25, 2009

When push comes to shove . . .

Went to a great Memorial Day weekend cookout yesterday. Surrounded by people who love me, no matter what. My sister and her husband, and her husband's family - who have "adopted" me as their own.

Home around 11:30pm - not too horrible. Take my nightly muscle relaxant so that I don't clench my jaw so tight during the night, that I can't get it open the next day.

Awakened around 2am by husband handing me his cell phone - "Here - SHE wants to talk to YOU." SHE being our 18 year old who was staying at a friend's house for the night.

She is sick; been throwing up since midnight. She thinks she is throwing up blood, and she has a terrible migraine. She wants me to come get her across the city.

I hang up with her, and start throwing on clothes, and looking for my glasses (I'm blind as a bat!). As I'm dressing, I stop, and say "FUCK - I just took my muscle relaxant at midnight!!!". Absolutely no response from her father - other than him rolling over in bed.

For the past month or so, he has been playing the "good father". And I am therefore the "bad mother" in comparison. He has been the one who has grocery shopped, cooked dinner every night, driven the 17 year old to school each day, etc. My participation in the family has been invisible, for lack of a better word. I'm the one working two jobs, doing all of the laundry, cleaning the house (sometimes), taxes, bills, FASFA's, etc. My "duties" are invisible. It is fine when two people are in a partnership. Not so great when they aren't.

Back to the present - I start driving to find her at 2:10am. I am totally directionally challenged. Even though I have been to her friend's house several times, I can't for the life of me remember where it is. Especially under the influence of muscle relaxants. I call her on her cell, and she talks me through it. I find her, and I get her home. I make her a ginger ale, take her temperature, coax her into eating an apple sauce, and get some Excedrin into her (no better pill out there for migraines). Turns out that the "blood" she was puking was strawberry daiquiri's. And the migraine was triggered by a visit to a Huka bar. She is so NOT a partier. She was fine once the pills kicked in..

I get into bed a little after 3am. I'm shaking at this point; combination of the meds, lack of sleep, adrenaline, and too much gardening over the past two days. He wants to know why in the world I am so angry with him. WTF? He's kidding, right? I tell him, and he still doesn't get it.

When push comes to shove, I hope they will know who is the one there for them. Forever. That is all I can ever hope for - that they know.

Friday, May 22, 2009


I first met him my junior year in high school. He was a tall and lanky senior. He had been in a bad car accident, and had a cast on his leg, crutches, pins coming out of the cast, etc. We were in the same political science class together with Mr. Dwyer. I can't remember what the particular "lesson" was that day in class - Mr. Dwyer wasn't big on "lessons" - but I do know that the whole class was seated in a large circle, and we were to write anonymous notes about our classmates, and Mr. Dwyer would read them aloud. Torture, to be sure.

I think I still have the note that Kevin wrote about me. Somewhere in the debris of my basement. Everyone in the class knew that he wrote it. I think that his blush gave him away when the note was read aloud.

The note was an invitation to a date. I accepted. He couldn't drive - the leg that was broken was his gas pedal foot. We doubled with his twin brother. I don't remember how many dates we were on. It doesn't really matter. I liked him. I remember snippets of time we spent together. At DeeDee's house for a party; he freaked out when he heard sirens. I remember thinking that he may be on something as we made out. The song "Behind Blue Eyes"; him telling me that that song explained him. At the rest area; me jumping out of the car to pick some wildflowers to put in my hair. Him getting upset because I was barefoot and could have cut myself. On a date, stopping to park, but it was on railroad tracks. Us getting off the tracks with just seconds to spare. before the train came blasting through. Me climbing into the back seat of his brother's car (after him - he still had the cast), and my hand accidently brushing his cock. Him and his brother laughing their asses off at my embarrassment.

I went to his graduation that June; I was hoping to meet up with him at an "after party". I couldn't find him, and I didn't see him again. Ever.

Four years ago he calls me. Twenty four years from when I had seen him last. We talk on the phone for almost two hours (me with my office door closed, praying I won't get fired). We talk about life, our kids, our spouses, our jobs, our families, our lives. A lot to cover. Again - just snippets of the conversation that I remember. How much he loves to hang out on weekends with his brother. How he loves his hobby - motorcycles. How much he loves his 9 year old son, and his wife who almost wouldn't marry him, and that he had to woo for seven years. His brother rings in on his other line. I hear them talking and laughing. He comes back to the phone; he tells me that his brother says "hi". He tells me that he always felt bad about the way we "ended". We promise to keep in touch.

Five months later, I am in my office. Reading the newspaper. I turn to the local section; the obits. My heart drops. I think it is his name. Thank God. It isn't. It is a name nearly identical to his.

Oh my God. The NEXT obit over IS his name. "Died unexpectedly". Complete shock. There is no one I can call. No one I can ask. I close my office door and cry.

How do you mourn the death of someone you loved twenty-four years ago? When you both have had twenty-four years of life that has been completely separate? When you both have married others, and had children?

You do it quietly and silently. But, you do mourn. And you do grieve. And it never really ever leaves you. Even when it has been four years since he passed.

Here's to you, Kevin. I loved you. I couldn't tell you that then, so many years ago. I was a shy, young 17 year old. But I can tell you that now. And every fucking time I hear "Behind Blue Eyes" I think of you.

I'm a senior in high school without a care in the world. All is right in my world. It is a typical Friday night, spring-time. I'm wearing my Levi's (29W, 36L - damn - I was skinny and tall), cute blousy top, and my jean jacket. Gotta be cool. Hair perfect; looking good. Going to a bonfire with all my friends in the woods in back of Mark's house. Perfect location - no houses around - the woods back up to a golf course. Full moon, clear ski, and a blazing bonfire. Beers - bottled, of course (obviously ice cold - can't you just taste it?). Laughing, talking. With all of my best friends, and all of their friends. Smoking some pot - not a lot - I'm not a good pot smoker. Huddled with my friends close to the fire to stay warm.

Arrive at home, just in time for "curfew". Grammy is up waiting for me. Wonderful.

Her arms crossed, "Where have you been?". "Out with my friends; Mom knows where I was", I reply. "You smell like smoke", she replies (and oh boy, the TONE in that statement). I slink off to bed.

Fast forward:
Last night; May 2009

44 years old; need my hair colored and cut (where the *fuck* did all of those grey hairs come from???) . Work 2 jobs; go to school full-time; have 2 kids; unhappily married. Started my day at 5:30AM. Woke up my 17 year old so he can get in the shower, and I can get him to the bus stop for 6:30am. Jump in the shower; get dressed; pull hair up in a clip. Drive him to bus stop. Put on make up in front of 15 other high-schoolers all waiting for the bus. Drive back home and wake up 15 year old niece so she can get in the shower, and I can get her to school for 7:15am. Drop her off, and start my day at work by 7:30am. Work until 3:3opm. Start second job and meet crappy client and show him two condos. Two condos that he selected out of 30+ in his price range and criteria. He wants to know if I have anything "special" to show him. Nope - I don't - just these two condos that he wanted to look at. Dump sucky client and go to Applebee's for a drink (or two). Meet up with a friend, and help him with his laundry at laundromat. Go to discount store (like a Salvation Army), and pick out 10 tops and 2 pairs of pants. $63 total. Thrilled. Go back to Applebee's with friend and show off my bargains. Have a "2 for $20" deal - 2 meals & appetizer for $20. Another bargain!

Arrive at home around 8:30pm. 18 year old (home from college) daughter is waiting for me. Wonderful.

Her arms crossed, "Where have you been?". "Out with my friends", I reply. "I expected you home a lot earlier than this", she replies (and oh boy, the TONE in that statement). "My appointments took longer than I thought", I reply. "Hmmph", she says. "Well, I assume you've eaten dinner; and I had made you a plate. Where did you eat?", she says. "At Applebee's", I reply. "Hmmph", she says. I slink off to bed.

Monday, May 11, 2009

I'm not a faker.

I'm a crappy liar.

Sometimes the truth sucks.

And the truth is, I'm not in love with him anymore. I care about what happens to him; I want him to be happy, but I'm not in love with him. I haven't been for a long time now. Like I said, the truth sucks - it took me a long time to accept this myself.

He loves her. And I accept that. But neither he or she (is that proper grammar?) accept that they love each other. They think that if they "pretend" that they're not together, then everyone (who is everyone, anyways??) will think better of them, and worse of me/us. Why? They are only hurting each other. WTF??

He is with her now, but they would never admit it. And nor would I ever say anything. Because I really don't care. I only care that she is using anything she knows about me against someone I love.


Wednesday, May 6, 2009

My life is stranger than fiction

Okay, I'm back after a five month hiatus. What a long, strange trip its been.


Just finished school (yeahhh!!) - all "A's"! One more year to go. Ten more stinkin' classes - BUT - they are all on-line. I can handle that.

Filing for divorce soon (but not soon enough). Waiting for mortgage modification so I can stay in the house until the kids get out of high school (youngest). Trying to get caught up on the mortgage before filing!! Sucks.

Have determined that (hopefully) soon-to-be-ex might be slightly crazy. He threw a complete nutty on 18-yr-old daughter last Friday for NOT going out with friends and partying! God forbid we have a responsible, mature daughter that wants to study for her finals and write papers for college. What a terrible shame. Have determined that soon-to-be-ex's GF is not only crazy, but downright certifiable. Having *NO* contact with his GF has been a wonderful thing (yeah, I know - that is just plain fucked up that I even ever had contact with her - that is part of "stranger than fiction" part; to be expounded upon at a later date).

Have made some incredible new friends this year (you know who you are!).

Have (unfortunately) attracted a fairly creepy attorney (no - not my divorce attorney). Daily frickin' emails from him wanting to get together for drinks/bite to eat and/or dirty jokes. Flattering (a little), but he is a typical attorney - just wants to talk about himself, and is pretty full of himself. [Sorry to any attorneys reading this; I know that you're not all the same! BUT - it does seem that male attorneys of a certain age ARE pretty much the same.] Waiting to get my grade posted before I totally blow him off. Oh yeah - I didn't mention that?? He was one of my professors!

Inherited a 15-year-old niece (now living with me) due to a difficult home situation (which I am completely AND legally embroiled in). Just adding to the fun!!!! And crap, who knew that adding one more member to the household could generate that *much* laundry!!! Wow.

I haven't been feeling too "pink" lately; more "blue". I'm going to wait it out; don't really want to change the name of my blog to "In the Blue" - sounds depressing!

Haven't followed through on many (any??) of my New Year resolutions. Still smoking (but a lot less); still biting my nails :( ; yada, yada, yada.

Kids are great (thank you God). If they are good, then I'm good. But -I need some resolution; some calm in my life. Boy oh boy, I'm hoping that the next couple of months will be better.