So, I have this friend Who is not only smart, dedicated, knowledgeable, a good mother and has a wicked sense of style, but also happens to be a very VERY good writer. I often have moments where I read something I like and realize that I am SO not a 'good' writer. Maybe it's lack of edumacation, or too many video games and TV. (However, I think I can KICK HER BUTT at playing Super Mario Bros. Yeah. I went there.) I'm constantly honored to be her friend, and often wonder why the HELL she puts up with me.
I love that she has such a passion for her industry, a dedication to change, and such noble goals. I also love that sometimes she can just hang and drink beer with the best of 'em. I am inspired, encouraged and impressed by her on a constant basis, and am so very VERY glad that she has decided to begin blogging again. YAY!!!!
I also love that her fiancee is a good writer and that he journals regularly. I talk to him on a near daily basis and am impressed by how smart and quirky he is, NOT TO MENTION his vast knowledge of pens and harpsichords. I totally enjoy conversations with him, no matter WHERE they end up going to, and I like that he makes my friend so very happy. I thrill to the freakay love, yo.
So, like, the purpose of all this, you ask? I'm wondering if maybe I do too much freaking out and not enough just talking. Freaking out is part of the human experience, of course, but I feel like I've come over to this blog-o-mine and only talked about 2 topics this summer. I'm realizing that I'm not a very good conversationalist, and that it's probably dull as hell to talk to me, since I either talk about how crappy life is, or how much I love or miss my boyfriend. That seems pretty lame to limit myself to a couple topics. The sad part about realizing that is that I think it means I really don't KNOW a lot. I know how to survive, hope and dream. I know how to bitch and piss and moan, but I think I'm pretty frickin' uninteresting.
Maybe letting myself go because of the past being so damn craptacular fostered that ... quitting in me, I don't really know, but I know it's pretty lame. I guess I should start picking subjects to learn and just GO! Or maybe I'm just entertaining. Because I'll walk into walls - that don't move. When I'm sober. In the light of day. In front of people.
Yeah, good times.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Looking for turnips
Can I seriously stop being tested? I mean, seriously? I feel like every month I'm frantically struggling just to keep above water. If not for the help of my family and friends.. well, I'd not like to THINK about that. I make decent money for a woman back in the workplace 2 years after I'd been out 11. In theory, I could survive on my paycheck, if I lived in an apartment, didn't have children, didn't go out and do stuff... in theory, I could even live comfortably.
But, I have 5 kids. And I only have one paycheck. It gets to where I nearly break down and cry when I think about it, so I avoid thinking about it like the plague, but I am doing this on my own, 5 kids, and just me. No, I don't get spousal support, OR child support. Yes, I'm awaiting judgement. Yes, I should get support. No, I don't think I'm going to see a penny. Why? because in March I finally received a notice from Child Support that the Ex owed me 2200 a month for 5 children, based on the difference in incomes and the amount of custody. He was given 30 days to respond, and I didn't hear anything until June. He contested the amount, using his attorney. We were set to go to court July 25th.
July 25th rolls around and he didn't show. Turns out that the county didn't notice his attorney. I would imagine it's not uncommon to make that kind of mistake as lawyers don't typically represent clients in a support case. They go by hard numbers, and arguing doesn't change the judgement - much. Well, they pushed us back to next week, the same week that we go to court for spousal support. The Ex changed attorneys, and I'm not sure the county was notified. I'm worried and apprehensive about where this is going to go. I'm also tired of struggling, keeping my head above water and seeing my Ex spend money on himself while our children sleep on mattresses on the floor (only the girls do this, to be fair, but still.. when you SAY you have no money and eat at KFC while feeding the kids hamburger helper, you need to rethink your idea of "no money). I'm tired of things being disproportionately skewed in favor of him.
I realize that "he'll get his" but in the meantime, *I* am doing QUITE enough 'getting' for more than 2 people. I know that Karma is the boomerang you don't have to throw, and that what goes around comes around. But dammit. I'm human and I'm tired and scared and lonely and discouraged.
Hopefully this is the bottom falling out before the relief comes, but I am so very doubtful that he will ever do anything right by his children, or ME that I can't even anticipate next week being beneficial. I look at it more as another drop in the bucket of stressors.
I'm worried about what the next step is when my Ex doesn't pay. The bills keep coming. My pay will be lowered starting next month (thank you, furlough) and the bills won't.
Not sure what relief there IS, but... somehow, it WILL come, it always does.
But, I have 5 kids. And I only have one paycheck. It gets to where I nearly break down and cry when I think about it, so I avoid thinking about it like the plague, but I am doing this on my own, 5 kids, and just me. No, I don't get spousal support, OR child support. Yes, I'm awaiting judgement. Yes, I should get support. No, I don't think I'm going to see a penny. Why? because in March I finally received a notice from Child Support that the Ex owed me 2200 a month for 5 children, based on the difference in incomes and the amount of custody. He was given 30 days to respond, and I didn't hear anything until June. He contested the amount, using his attorney. We were set to go to court July 25th.
July 25th rolls around and he didn't show. Turns out that the county didn't notice his attorney. I would imagine it's not uncommon to make that kind of mistake as lawyers don't typically represent clients in a support case. They go by hard numbers, and arguing doesn't change the judgement - much. Well, they pushed us back to next week, the same week that we go to court for spousal support. The Ex changed attorneys, and I'm not sure the county was notified. I'm worried and apprehensive about where this is going to go. I'm also tired of struggling, keeping my head above water and seeing my Ex spend money on himself while our children sleep on mattresses on the floor (only the girls do this, to be fair, but still.. when you SAY you have no money and eat at KFC while feeding the kids hamburger helper, you need to rethink your idea of "no money). I'm tired of things being disproportionately skewed in favor of him.
I realize that "he'll get his" but in the meantime, *I* am doing QUITE enough 'getting' for more than 2 people. I know that Karma is the boomerang you don't have to throw, and that what goes around comes around. But dammit. I'm human and I'm tired and scared and lonely and discouraged.
Hopefully this is the bottom falling out before the relief comes, but I am so very doubtful that he will ever do anything right by his children, or ME that I can't even anticipate next week being beneficial. I look at it more as another drop in the bucket of stressors.
I'm worried about what the next step is when my Ex doesn't pay. The bills keep coming. My pay will be lowered starting next month (thank you, furlough) and the bills won't.
Not sure what relief there IS, but... somehow, it WILL come, it always does.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
What the?
Okay, so I don't often remember dreams, but I JUSt woke up from a very deep nap and this little gem was at the forefront of my brain.
In the dream, I am still with my ex husband, Anthony (hereafter referred to as A). I am working in a huge highrise building, and somehow it comes up that he wants to storm the building and kill people in it. He morphs into a giant demon who shoots everyone and kills them. I never SEE the carnage, but it's implied that it's a fact that it happens. There is blood, but no bodies, and I don't see his method of murder. I do hear people scream.
At first, I do not try to stop his beahavior and behave like a toady. I'm yessing him as he's recounting how funny it was to see people scream and run and hide. I don't feel good about it, but I'm still doing it *TSK TSK TSK*.
Anthony goes on another rampage, bigger, taller, scarier, more demonic. He's laughing about how he's going to give it to them, that they're all worthless pieces of crap and deserve it. I am following him, as before, but I sneak down to a level he's already covered, and use the restroom, to begin my escape. I decide I can't do this, and have to get away from him, from all the destruction. Another stall is occupied by a security guard. How she's not full on freaked out is beyond me.
I jump to me leaving the building carrying a gun.. it looks pretty friggin fake to me in my dream, but it's accepted as a real gun. The security guard from the bathroom had followed me out, asks me about the gun, which was carried in a binocular case at first, but it changes to a gun holster during this part of the dream. She's wondering if I can carry the gun, and all that. She finds A, who is standing a bit away from where I'm at and is implied as 'in charge' of not just the situation, but me, as well. He's morphed back into his normal looking self, looks over to me, and walks back with the security guard to me. He hands me back my gun with a very level look and says that I am a certified guard, and I can carry (In real life, I was a certified security guard for California, although I didn't have a carry license). The guard reluctantly hands me back my gun, and A never breaks his eye contact with me. I have this feeling of dread that I've been found out, then wake up.
In the dream, I am still with my ex husband, Anthony (hereafter referred to as A). I am working in a huge highrise building, and somehow it comes up that he wants to storm the building and kill people in it. He morphs into a giant demon who shoots everyone and kills them. I never SEE the carnage, but it's implied that it's a fact that it happens. There is blood, but no bodies, and I don't see his method of murder. I do hear people scream.
At first, I do not try to stop his beahavior and behave like a toady. I'm yessing him as he's recounting how funny it was to see people scream and run and hide. I don't feel good about it, but I'm still doing it *TSK TSK TSK*.
Anthony goes on another rampage, bigger, taller, scarier, more demonic. He's laughing about how he's going to give it to them, that they're all worthless pieces of crap and deserve it. I am following him, as before, but I sneak down to a level he's already covered, and use the restroom, to begin my escape. I decide I can't do this, and have to get away from him, from all the destruction. Another stall is occupied by a security guard. How she's not full on freaked out is beyond me.
I jump to me leaving the building carrying a gun.. it looks pretty friggin fake to me in my dream, but it's accepted as a real gun. The security guard from the bathroom had followed me out, asks me about the gun, which was carried in a binocular case at first, but it changes to a gun holster during this part of the dream. She's wondering if I can carry the gun, and all that. She finds A, who is standing a bit away from where I'm at and is implied as 'in charge' of not just the situation, but me, as well. He's morphed back into his normal looking self, looks over to me, and walks back with the security guard to me. He hands me back my gun with a very level look and says that I am a certified guard, and I can carry (In real life, I was a certified security guard for California, although I didn't have a carry license). The guard reluctantly hands me back my gun, and A never breaks his eye contact with me. I have this feeling of dread that I've been found out, then wake up.
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