It’s 4:20 Am. HERE is my blog post, Mama.

WHy I am so wide awake is way beyond me. COuld have something to so with waking up an hour ago, fully dressed , in bed, no recollections of what lead to that, though I’m sure the morning and the cranky husband will illuminiate it all for me. Sigh times three. I sometimes disgust myself.

And of all the people to be judgy. But I do grant him the fact that he is Grover’s dad and his worrying is often not out of the blue but has valid beginnings. It’s just that the next day he can be so mean and judgemental. Go figure. Mr. reformed. Fuck you, get the stick out of your ass and instead of making me feel like shit help me out with getting sober and staying that way. Argh.

my friends and neighbors

We got this thing in the mail. Actually it was hand-delivered to the mailbox. About keeping our street “Clean and Green”. So I read it and while I agree that trash should be picked up and garbage cans not left on the curb other than trash-day-morning, I also felt a bit critiqued. Who can say anything about maintenance? So our porch is falling off and the wood to repair it is stacked there waiting. And yes, I agree, it does somewhat take away from the simple beauty of our house’s facade. (I love my house). But we don’t have the money right now to finish the job. Just like I know my neighbors down the street don’t have the money to repair the window that is covered with cardboard. And my other neighbors, well, their garbage cans are on the street all day b/c they are getting cancer treatments and the cans stay out until I get home from work to bring them in, when I bring in my own.

Anyway, there’s a meeting on Sunday at a house down the street. And I was planning to go and then I realize that it is being held at the home of the neighboir who has been sending me salacious disgusting texts about how hard he gets when he thinks of me and other unwelcome things. It’s actually one of the reasons I got a new number when I got a new phone. So I don’t think I’ll go to the meeting.

But I will pick up all the trash.

miscellany

• I have solo driven up and down each coast and intoCanada
• I used to run track. Now when I run people laugh at me. People being my son and husband.
• I still wet my pants now and then.
• I love dark comedies.
• I found this new website called texts from last night-dot-com and I can’t thank God enough that texting was not around when I was still single.
• I, too, have  kissed a girl. I prefer Jill Sobule to Katy Perry, though.
• I have a bad habit of giving people leeway to use me as a doormat.
• If I were not married to dearoneilove I would prefer to be alone
• I am afraid of going down escalators
• I wanted to have more kids. It didn’t work out.
• I saw Led Zeppelin at the Spectrum.
• The bar I most like to go to is one I have gone to for 22 years.
• I should have known to run away the when he said “Holy Feelgood, Batman” the first time I fucked him.
• That’s actually true.
• Luckily NOONE reads this.
• I crashed into a dumpster once and sheared the side off my Volvo. Dumbass.
• I do not know how to put on makeup. Any attempts are worthy of ridicule.
• I used to be blonde and sometimes I wish I was brave enough to try it again.
• I love beef jerky.

Thank God It’s Monday?

This weekend seemed a bit long. Friday started off with major panic attack at work, always a thrill. They are interviewing that girl and I just had every effing ptsd symptom hit me so hard. But I took a walk and chilled out and was fine but then later the asshole told me I was not only unprofessional but that I was crazy.

Friday later was ok, we went to hang out with one of my oldest friends and ended up having a sleepover here, but all the kids showed up and it was just too much, I was pretty fed up, and of course husband was on me about wine.

Went to birthday party SAturday, bowling, which was fun but loud and then of course I still have one extra kid who doesn’t want to go home (ever, it seems) and so we let him stay, but it wasn’t supposed to be all day yesterday and it ended up being until 7pm. Argh. In the meantime, I did take 2 boys to DAve and Buster’s (acknoiselightstearsgreedackackack) and then back here for dinner, while waiting for the water to boil I found in the little guy’s backpack:

a knife!

and

a box cutter!

And of course he’s not really talking. And me and dear spouse both tried to talk to him about it and he wouldn’t say a word. Quiet, not really defiant, just quiet. But when I said “you know, I have to tell your mama”, that’s when he cried. And I told him he never had to feel unsafe and he could always tell us if something was scaring him or if someone was hurting him. It was just freaky. And then when I told his mom, she was kind of like “well, yeah, they’re taking this war playing a little too seriously” and I’m like “they can get in a lot of trouble and get expelled” and she’s acting like I’m just complaining to complain. Argh. I’m at a loss. So now I frisk the kid every time he comes over?

But the sad thing is, he’s afraid of something. Afraid enough to be carrying weapons. Grover knows, and we had a long talk with him, too. But it’s scary, b/c I can only protect him when he’s here.

Yay it’s friday

What a riveting title. That’d make you open a book and read the first page, huh? After school today Grover and I are going to spend the afternoon with old friends. I’ve known her for eons and the boys grew up together so it will be fun. Relaxing. I can say whatever I need to and we can laugh about the antics of our other friends.

Because if nothing else, I’ve got some really weird friends.

Whistle while you work

Somedays I get bored at work. Somedays I wake up at 5:30am and KNOW already I will be bored at work. Today I found 353 words within the word “indiscriminately” and I am not done yet. I do love my job for the most part but every once in a while I stop and say “ohmygodisthisreallymyjob?????” In ways both good and bad. Like schlepping 10 cases of Gatorade to the pool house or checking the oil in the backup generator. Then there’s the moments of  “Hello, Senator_______ ” or “Please hold, Mr. (very famous designer)”. The best was the Prime Minister of a certain country. Answering that call  was a crackup. I routinely post donation checks that are equal to my annual salary, and pay an Amex bill that is often in the 6 figures. It’s living vicariously, and somehow, as broke as we are at home, I don’t let it get to me. Luckily he’s not showy or obnoxious. He just happens to be super-rich. The one percent. But he takes care of me and Grover. And that makes up for the days when he says things like “What the fuck are you eating? It smells like shit.” or “Please don’t ever wear your hair like that again.”

mean

We are hiring a new bookkeeper for the office. Right now there’s me, and onetwothreefour others. And one of them is leaving so it will will be onetwothree and mystery guest. All the resumes come to me. And yesterday there was one from an alumna of my high school. And I thought for a minute about just shredding it, but no, I turned it over but mentioned that I wasn’t really into the idea of spending all my days with someone who is remotely connected to my four years of adolescent hell. So now of course the bastard’s gonna interview her just to fuck with me. Argh.

 

Camp Noname

We called it Non-ami but it was really No Name. Why this is in my head now is beyond me. Especially considering how many other things are in my head.

Yesterday, we saw the implosion of a friends’ marriage. Two friends, actually, as they are married to each other. And have been married for a long time. And were at our wedding. And the doofus dog– who’s always been a bit of a cassanova– jackass has a four-year long thing with someone? Holy shit.

My feelings on cheating are pretty complicated. First of all, I think it is way more common than anyone likes to imagine. And I think one of the biggest insults you can do to someone you purportedly love is to not be smart enough to not get caught. That’s how it always comes up to me– if you’re gonna be an asshole, at least have enough respect to not get fucking caught. My husband cheated before we were married. My instincts are too good, I always knew exactly when something was going on. (Although at the same time once we were married I was oblivious to the fact that he had turned into a complete asshole with a coke addiciton.But by then I had Grover and had to make different choices.But this is not a post of recriminations. Actually the opposite.)

Lately we are struggling financially, and we argue about my wine consumption, and we sometimes butt heads over Grover’s affinity for swearing like his Mama a truckdriver, and where’s the remote and where did you put this that or the other(he accuses me of hiding things, when really I just like neat surfaces), and a bigggie lately is my major inability to say NO to people when they ask me for help.But anyway, we are almost more together than ever, and we talk about it, and we acknowledge how lcuky we are. Becuase even with all the bullshit he’s put me through we’ve been through,I love him. And I know that staying was the right choice.

sister

Sometimes I prefer not to know just how sad we really are.  She pulls her hair out, unthinkingly, avoiding the imperfections.  She strives to be perfect, always perfect. Never alone as that is too huge to imagine.

So she focuses instead on fixing me to repair the damage done to both.

The ghosts come…

The ghosts come

creeping in

protean sneaks

slinking around corners

laying in wait

in books and albums.

Easier to learn to dance with the demons than to escape them.

Like Switzerland

find a peaceful coexistence 

between the history and fear

tightrope taut,

sharp edges blurred by wine.