Drunk blogging and a rant about Diva

...because that's always fun.

Had a bad day regarding Diva again. She's a pain in my ass. She called last night. Told Superman a story about being in some kind of sexual relationship (whether fully sexual or preliminarily sexual it's hard to know). So I called her therapist today. Therapist didn't know the first thing about this story. She called Diva to her office then called me back. We had a 15 minute meeting with me on speaker phone. Diva denied anything about the story she told her dad last night. Instead she had some different story about a relationship, the details of which were sketchy if I recall, and I can't remember much about it anyway. The point is that she's LYING! Again. Still. WTF? She's been in the RTF for a year now. And she still can't tell the truth. She hasn't accomplished diddly squat. Well, she isn't overtly murderous right now, so I suppose that's an accomplishment. I wonder, though, how quickly she could become murderous again. With her....

The point is that she is a lier. Lie-er. Lyer. Lieyer. There is no good way to spell that word. I've been corrected! It's Liar. Of course. I never claimed to be a good speller. Thanks, Scratch! But I digress. She lies. All the time. I can't deal with that, with her, not in the context of her possibly coming back here.

Shit. This is not her home anymore. I told the therapist that today. I've told this therapist that we didn't want her to come directly home, but that she needed to have some interim step. Today I told the therapist that we can't take her back at all. Ever. Shit. Ouch.

But after talking to the child, I'm just mad. I want to scream at her. If I could, if I would, this is what I'd tell her:

Do you have any idea what you're doing? This constant lying seals your fate. You're ruining your chance at anything like a normal life. You can't be trusted, which means you can't come home.

I was so mad when I finished talking to her. It was time for my art class about then, and I 'bout couldn't make it. I was a mess. I stayed, though, and sort of did what I wanted to. Didn't work on the assignments, but sat in my corner (I should take pictures of my little ceramics corner and show you) and built an interesting little thingie. I'm going to keep it, too. I like it. I'll fire it, maybe put some pretty glaze on it. It'll be my little comfort shell. Maybe I'll take a picture of that, too. Maybe I'll do a lot of things. I don't want to think about it, because it'll make me sad.

But listen to this. There's a young lady (same age as Light) in my class. She's adorable. I may have mentioned her before. She gave me a couple of hugs this afternoon. She sent me the sweetest text tonight. She said "I did not like seeing you like that. Not that I don't want you to share with me, just that I don't want you to be upset ever. " Isn't that precious? I'm usually the strong one, the shoulder that she cries on. Today was different.

I can't think of the other things I meant to say. My happy buzz is beginning to turn into a minor but annoying headache. Think I'll go take a shower and go to bed.