"He ain't wrong, he's just different..."

"They'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold." That works well for me. I'd much rather have a song than diamonds or gold. Think I'll be a cowboy when I grow up.

I like Willie Nelson's music. I also like his hair.

OK, on to more mundane and depressing things. Like, for instance, I am home again. And depressed again. It's true, this place sucks the life force from my soul. To accomplish anything I must climb a steep hill of sand.

"Sand" was the first word I ever saw Light read. She was 4, I think.

Last night's saga: Diva asked us at 6:50 last night if she could go over to the park at the Civic Center, not far from our house. She said she'd be back at 7:30. Superman said she didn't have time, she'd have to turn around and come back as soon as she got there in order to return by 7:30. "I'll take the shortcut." Whatever. Go on. So of course she wasn't home by 7:30, but I didn't expect her to be. I did, however, expect her to be back by the 8:00 curfew. But she wasn't home then, either. She finally schlepped in at 9:30, having been out with her friend. When informed that she was grounded for the weekend she was shocked, shocked! to receive such punishment. Child, it's very simple: break the rule, suffer the consequence. But for some reason only her twisted mind understands, she doesn't think she deserves the punishment.

So she slammed her bedroom door lots of times. Superman told her to quit slamming the door, and she said "it's already broken so who cares?" Well, she broke it even more. I can't remember the exact words that set it off, but she got up in Superman's face and threatened him and he moved toward her in response. I was on the phone with my Mama but aware of the discord. Sproing came running in to me and said "Mom! Come help!" I was afraid one of them had hit the other, but thankfully it didn't come to that. Superman was walking away from her room when I approached. Steam blew out his ears, his head was red. I told him to take a walk. Diva finished getting ready for bed and was tucked away by the time her dad came back. At one point in there I told her to do something and she snapped "You ain't my mama." I said "I'm the only mama you have right now." Received a lovely scowl for that comment. She managed to get through the evening without physically attacking anyone, and so did Superman and I.

I worry about Sproing. As Superman commented this morning, we think he is afraid of her. Not just afraid of her, but scared, fearful of being harmed. I know her extreme behavior upsets him. I started to make some comment to her this morning and he looked at me with wide eyes and mouthed "don't!" shaking his "stop" hands for emphasis. As aggravated as I was with him yesterday (another story I'll probably not get to) he really is a sweet kid and I feel for him.

But it's time to pursue other living arrangements for her. I know, we've been talking about that for months, nay years. Our service coordinator is supposed to be able to help us arrange to put her in a group home or something similar. That means lots more paperwork, but boy, will it be worth it!! This child is trouble.

We need a new blog post here

I must tell you that I am faring much better than I was when I wrote the previous post. Also, the previous post may have been influenced by hormones just a little bit. Which is not to say that the previous post was not in many ways accurate, however, but I have come down from being quite that close to the brink. I'm coping a little better.

I am also not at home once again. Some of you are familiar with my dear friend Indigo. His mother died after an extended illness (COPD, a terrible way to go) last week. After talking to him on the phone Thursday I realized that yes, he really needed me to be with him. So Friday very early I got in the car and drove to Baltimore, from whence I type. Actually, I will leave very soon, within the hour even, but I felt compelled to write a brief (as brief as it gets with me, which is a dodgy proposition) update on my life, or something like it.

I will drive this afternoon from Baltimore to Richmond, VA where I will spend the evening and overnight with a dear cousin of mine. I haven't seen her since her wedding a few years ago, and have never met the most precious little boy in the world (I have it on good authority - his mother - that this is true of him). So that is where I will rest tonight, then on to South Carolina Monday morning.

And I am away from home once again, as I mentioned. This is significant because I am, once again, thinking with perhaps a clearer mind. I have some ideas, even some inspiration maybe, about my immediate future (within 6 months, say). Note to self: explore ideas of creating interesting fun stuff to sell on Etsy to make enough money to pay my student loan bills. Also, the radical idea of going to seminary to prepare for work in the Unitarian Universalist worship tradition or something similar. Wow. Where did that come from?! We will be discussing these things in future posts, mayhaps.

To continue the original trajectory of the previous paragraph, my mind works differently, with what feels like more clarity, when I am not at home. And here's my theory: those young crazy people who share my last name suck the energy from my soul and cloud my mind with troublesome trivia. It feels like I'm walking into a trap when I go back home. It isn't only my children, either. I strongly suspect the town/city of Greenwood and the state of South Carolina play a role in this strangulation of my soul. Unfortunately, I must go home and I must work in my home and on my home to enable myself and the family to break free from The South (TM) and it's nefarious influences. I understand that with clarity when I am not there. It's harder to see that when I'm up to my ass in alligators in that particular swamp.

These are the things I wish to share with you now. I will finish packing my stuff and get on the road south now. I hope to get back here before too long to continue the saga of whatever the hell this life is.

Fondly,
-Java

Back to something like my life

I have been away. I am now back. If I change one little letter in the previous sentence it says "I am not back" which is how my fingers typed it the first time. My fingers Freudian slipped.

I was away for 11 days visiting Light, then Indigo, then driving through the Blue Ridge Mountains. While away I was alive. The day I came back (Tuesday evening) and the following morning I was alive and angry. Angry at how we live here in this house, angry at the complacency everyone shows about the many nouns that are out of place. Concrete and abstract nouns. For example: the disambiguated door leaning against the wall by the kitchen. It has no purpose besides stubbing toes. The pervasive stench of sour urine throughout the house caused by Diva's bed wetting and her failure to wash her bedclothes when she wakes up wet. The antagonism my children have for each other, for us as their parents, and for the world in general. Yes, I was angry. But everything is fine now. The enormity of it all has overwhelmed me once again until I am numb on the surface. HELP! I'm suffocating in this stultifying* miasma** that is my life. I hardly recognize the woman who just two days ago was driving through the Appalachian Mountains, full of life, determination, and confidence. I almost can't remember the feeling of that indignant anger. I certainly don't feel it anymore. All I feel is sadness. No, more like despondency.*** 


Perhaps I don't drink enough. I have a drawer full of beer in my refrigerator. To numb the pain of this numbness I could become a drunk. Not just an occasional drinker, but a drunk. I know that's a bad idea in the long run. The argument I tell myself against such foolishness is almost the same as the argument I use for not killing myself. Does anyone else see a red flag there?

What can be done? Nothing. Refer to the definitions of stultify, miasma, and despondent.

Please take me away from here!


*stultify - to render absurdly or wholly futile or ineffectual, especially by degrading or frustrating means.
** miasma - a dangerous, foreboding, or deathlike influence or atmosphere.
***despondent - feeling or showing profound hopelessness, dejection, discouragement, or gloom.
-from Dictionary.com