Update on All My Children (mine, not the daytime drama)

Some of you have asked for updates on my children. Ready? GO!

Light
Light is 28 years old now. She finally graduated with her Masters of Fine Arts about a year ago. She still lives in western Pennsylvania (where it gets seriously cold) about an hour east of Pittsburgh. The barista job was a good one, but she outgrew it. She's now a baker in a bakery two blocks from her apartment. I got a call from her last week: "Mom! It was 60° yesterday and today I'm walking to work in 4 inches of SNOW!" From all accounts, she loves her job. One of her bosses is a French man who loves me. I know this because he speaks with a French accent and he gives me sweet baked goods every time I visit.

And she's getting married!! In April. In Pennsylvania. To a transgender man. It's fitting, since Light is bisexual or possibly pansexual, I'm not sure if it matters, but marrying a trans man, kinda getting a bit of both? Anyway, he's a lovely young fellow, a couple of years younger than Light, named J. He graduated with a BA in religious studies and some kind of English composition thing the same semester Light graduated. He wants to go to grad school for to be a writer of poems or maybe fiction I think. The grad school he most wants to go to is in Nebraska. I'm not crazy about the idea of Nebraska. Not that there's anything wrong with Nebraska, necessarily, but it's far far away from South Carolina.  J has some health issues, possibly Rheumatoid Arthritis though that hasn't been diagnosed. I worry about him. He says I worry too much.

So I'm focused on the wedding. I will be making her wedding dress. We have the fabric, the pattern, and I made a "muslin", a trial run with the pattern in some unimportant fabric. It needs tweaking. And it's time to start seriously working on it. Yeah, as soon as I can move again. (Creak, Groan, Other Old Lady Noises)

Twitch
Twitch will turn 27 years old on Valentine's Day. He's doing so well! I'm proud of him. He's always been a bit behind the curve socially. I'm sure he's on the Autism Spectrum, though high functioning. He also has Tourette's Syndrome; thankfully he has grown out of a lot of his more obvious tics. He's got a great job now. He worked at Arby's for a few years after he graduated from college (with a degree in graphic design, a profession he's never worked in). Last year he achieved employment at our favorite brick oven pizzeria and beer micro brewery. By all accounts it's a fantastic place to work and he does good work. He's in the kitchen making sandwiches and other entree stuff. The pizza station is behind the bar, very public, everybody watches. Twitch, his mother's son, doesn't like being on stage like that. He can make the pizzas but prefers being in the kitchen.

The crew there has a family style closeness. Employee turnover is rare, slow, whatever ya' call it. Twitch seems to fit in well. He's a unique guy, kind of an acquired taste, and I think the crew accepts him well, uniqueness and all.

Twitch has the adulting thing under control. Yes, he's young and makes choices I think aren't as wise as perhaps they should be, but overall he's truckin' along. Pays his bills, fulfills his obligations, helps out his mom and dad occasionally. It's good.

Diva
Oh boy. The Diva lives in Greenville now, in her own apartment I think. That's what she tells me anyway. OMG she showed up on our doorstep one afternoon last spring. I opened the door and stood there staring at her, stuttering, opening and closing my mouth in goldfish fashion. She laughed at me (kindly, not cruelly) and said "you're speechless!" I'm rarely speechless. We hadn't seen nor heard from her in maybe 18 months. I kinda freaked out. Ended up taking her out to IHOP for late lunch. We made friendly conversation.

I haven't seen her since, though we have communicated by email a few times. Her birthday is December 4th, and I sent an electronic birthday greeting. She wrote back, mentioned a book she was reading (reading a book?! Oh wow!) and wanted the next book in the series, so I ordered it from Amazon and had it sent to her. In doing so I learned her address. Looked it up on Google street view. It ain't fancy, but isn't gross either. She's working in fast food still, perhaps two jobs, I'm unclear about details. She also said something about being a manager. I think she means assistant manager, but I could be wrong. The girl has moxie, chutzpah, and a tenuous grasp of reality so she's likely to try things that I doubt she has aptitude for. Perhaps I'm underestimating her and she can do more than I believe of her. Her book smarts are weak, but she's got a particular social intelligence that takes her places.

Superman wants nothing to do with her. A brief synopsis: when she left home at 17-and-three-quarters, he helped her get into an apartment very close to the store where she worked. The deal was she would pay two thirds to three quarters of her rent, he'd pitch in the rest. They had specific monetary amounts in this deal. Since she wasn't 18 yet, she couldn't sign the lease, so of course Superman did. Then, surprising no one, she reneged on her responsibilities. Actually didn't pay a cent if I understand the situation. Ended up, after rent payments and penalties and fees, he was out over $3000. Even worse was the betrayal. She seemed to be so capable, was acting all responsible for a minute, and he had great hope. But true to form, she broke the faith. She broke him, a little bit. Definitely broke that relationship.

I now approach her with caution. I want to remain in contact with her, to check up, see how she's doing. I care about her well-being. But I know from sad experience how much she can hurt me, how she's turned on me every time in the past. I don't want her all up in my bid'ness, do NOT want the drama that constantly surrounds her! Pretty sure she doesn't want me in her business either. But it's good (bittersweet?) to know where she is and how she's doing.

Sproing
Sproing. Now there's a topic. Cut to the chase: he's in prison. Big boy prison. The real deal. Projected release date August of 2019. He'll be 21 years old then. Now, there's a possibility he'll get out earlier, but I don't know and neither does he. He's incarcerated in the Turbeville, South Carolina facility. Before he went there I didn't know that Turbeville, SC existed. I don't think there's much there except the prison. Florence, SC is the closest city.

He's in prison now because he violated probation. This is for his 2nd degree burglary charge he got in August of 2016? I think. He's been on probation for two years and hasn't fulfilled his obligations, but did fail a drug test. He smokin' da weed, mon. Not that I care about it, but this state does. His probation officer does. I'm not sure if it was the drug test or failure to pay any restitution that put him in prison. But there he is. He had a court appearance in mid September to review his probation and the judge said "Nope. Do not pass go, do not collect jack shit, go to jail." Prison, actually.

I was in Florida at the time helping my Mama move from the Orlando area to Merritt Island. And avoiding hurricane Irma. Can't remember where Superman was, but iirc he was out of town, too, for a couple of days. Anyway the dog and cat needed tending and Sproing was gone. Think I called Twitch to come do pet duty until his dad got home.

I don't even know what to say about Sproing. I'm disappointed, nay heartbroken that he has gotten himself into this situation. I strongly suspect racial profiling plays a part in how he got to this point, but he did in fact commit burglary in the 2nd degree. The young'un has aligned himself with criminal peers, gone to places where he would look suspicious, and blatantly broken the law a number of times since he was still a juvenile.

Sproing talks about wanting to get his GED, go to college, play college baseball then try the pro's. That baseball talk sounds implausible to me. He could probably get his GED if he concentrated and applied himself. I know he could get into college with a GED, but whether he'd succeed there is another matter. He's smart enough, but unless many things change, he's not disciplined enough. He also talks about wanting to help out around the house, help take care of Superman and me.* But when he's here he's rude and disrespectful, reluctant (or blatantly refuses) to do any kind of chore we ask of him.

In conclusion
Superman and I now have the house to ourselves! Well, plus the cat. Did I tell you the dog died? It was very sad. He was only four years old when he got sick last November (October?). We didn't notice anything amiss until he was very sick. No, it was in September when I was still in Florida. I spent most of September in Florida. Superman took him (Oreo the dog) to the vet, who ran blood tests the results of which came back with weird numbers. Like, the leukocytes outnumbered everything else so that they couldn't find the other blood component they were looking for. iirc. Honestly, the details escape me now. Oreo had Leukemia with complications, like some kind of serious infection that couldn't heal. Oh, he was bad. Superman and I took him to the vet to be euthanized. It was sad. Hard. He had been such a good dog, Sproing's dog, and Sproing hadn't taken good care of him. Of course we took up the slack providing for him, but he didn't get the kind of attention and exercise he needed.

So, to get back to my story, see, we're left with just the cat, who is right now sitting on my forearms as I attempt to type this. She's kinda heavy. Although successful, it isn't easy. Black Fuzzy Cat don't give a shit.

But let me tell you, we LOVE the empty nest! We do not at all miss having young people live in our house. When Sproing gets out of prison he will NOT be moving back in. (Dunno what he's gonna do; we'll worry about that as time approaches.)

Oh! P.S. Diva is 20 now, and Sproing turns 20 this Wednesday, January 24th.

*It's Superman and me because if I left off the first person mentioned, the sentence would be "... help take care of me." It's not difficult to figure out. "Help take care of I" is obviously, painfully wrong. So, simple check, if you were to only mention yourself, would you say "I" or "me"? Whichever fits there is also the word to use when saying "(the other person) and I/me". Thus ends the grammar lesson.

Cognitive Dissonance and newsy updates

I love you all, dearly. So you'd think I'd want to communicate with you more often. And I do, on one level. But I have layers, like onions.

(Start at the 23 second mark)
Which in this illustration makes me the ogre. Well, sometimes that description is accurate. But that's not what we're here to talk about today.
I feel these forces within me grappling for control. Looking for the right word, we turn to Thesaurus.com and find: Discord, Dissonance, Disparity, Dissension, Incongruity, Contention, Variance. I give you - My Brain! (It's a very confusing place.)

And the blogging is but a small aspect of the larger complications in negotiating my day. Every day.

Well, it seems like every day, on bad days. If I recall correctly (and with this brain, who can tell?) on good days I know what to do and do it with confidence. On bad days I don't know what to do, or won't do what I know to do. Disparity within the ranks.

The professionals call this Depression. There might be other labels for it, more specific than depression. I don't care about labels anyway. Except when I do.

Time to move away from the navel gazing.

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In the news... Let's start with Diva. When last we checked in, Diva had moved to live with her birth mother. Well, that lasted maybe a week or two. The two of them are so much alike in some negative ways. Talk about discord! Diva left, to go... where? "Dad, can you help me?" She didn't want to come back home, which is great because we didn't want her back here. She had a job by that time, working at Taco Bell and wanted to stay in the area to continue working. Good idea. Superman put her up in a cheap (relatively) motel for a week while she looked for an apartment. She did, found a place that she could almost afford. We're helping her out a bit. A couple hundred dollars a month is worth the price to have her living on her own.

She was still 17 when all this transpired. Superman had to put the lease in his name because she was a minor. She tried to enroll in the local high school, but being a minor she has to go to school in the district/zone where her parents live. Um, nope. Special case here. Even with her dad on the lease, that wasn't enough. So she waited until after her birthday to go back to enroll. They handed her a couple more hoops to jump through.  I think she's done everything they asked of her. They said they'd call her. She's still waiting.

Diva wanted to get a second job, because damn, living on one's own is expensive! (Yeah. Duh. Living with ungrateful greedy children is really expensive.) She found employment at a new burger joint opening down the street. Then she made the mistake of mentioning it at Taco Bell, so they fired her - two weeks before she started the new job. But then I get confused, because she was still at Taco Bell the day she.. Well, let me tell you about the level of awareness and personal responsibility Diva has attained!

She had been working with a manager she liked and respected. He treated her in kind. Of course he was transferred, because Corporate Decisions. The new manager isn't as easy to work with. She and Diva had some disagreement, the specifics are unimportant (I don't know them). She was "getting all up in (Diva's) face!" Diva, bless her heart, recognized her triggers and tried to back down. The manager told her to go into the office so they could discuss it. Diva, having finally learned a thing or two about herself, knew that was a bad idea. She told me she just knew if she'd gone in, she'd have gotten so angry as to lose her temper and end up "punching the bitch" which would lead to jail. I am so proud of her for having this foresight! She said to the manager "I need to leave," to which the manager responded "If you leave now, you won't be back." Diva said "OK" and walked out.

And Diva already has another job, so she's not destitute or anything. There was a week between the Taco Bell stint and the new thing, so funds might be tight this month. She's learning about life, for sure. And really learning! Not just pretending to, then doing some other stupid shit. Diva was to start her new job this past Monday. I haven't talked to her so don't know how it's going.

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Who's next? Let's look at Sproing. This young man needs some real life experience to teach him some truths, dammit. Back in October when I last posted, he was in the county hoosegow awaiting trial. His case went to court Wednesday of the week before Thanksgiving. They did a legal plea thing and applied a Youthful Offender thingie to the case. He was sentenced to 1-6 years, suspended, then put on probation for two years. As long as he stays out of legal trouble for these two years, he'll be able to have his record expunged. That's the Youthful Offender deal. So he came home in time for Thanksgiving, but the rest of us (Superman, Twitch, and I) went to Pennsylvania to visit Light for Thanksgiving. Couldn't take Sproing, so he spent his Thanksgiving alone. Kinda sucks, but it is what it is (as my brother likes to say).

Since coming home he's supposed to be getting back into a school of some kind and getting a job. Guess what. Neither has happened. He has filled out a few applications, and kinda talked about the school options. Right after Thanksgiving we contacted the high school about him re-enrolling, but because of his felony conviction, they don't want him there. I understand. I don't think he's cut out for traditional high school classes and all that bullshit anyway. His guidance counselor at school and I think he should get his GED. For some reason Sproing is adamantly opposed to that idea. Says he wants a genuine High School Diploma. We're supposed to be looking into online school options.

There's been a spanner thrown into the works, as the Brits like to say. Remember the part where he stays out of trouble for two years? Well, oops. There was a thing with some friend of his concerning two stolen watches. Sproing didn't steal them, I'm 97.5% positive. But he gave a ride to this kid when driving Superman's truck one evening. The next day Superman and I went out for a romantic lunch hour at Taco Bell (livin' large!) and I saw something shiny in the passenger side door pocket. You guessed it, the missing watches! Superman took them to the sheriff's office, Sproing was arrested for possession/receiving stolen goods. I'm pretty sure he knew nothing about the watches being in the truck until I found them. That kid probably left them there. Now Sproing has to go to trial to be exonerated on that charge. I hope that's what happens, anyway. If not, this violates his probation and he'll likely have to serve time, 1-6 years, in jail. I hope he gets out of this mess.

In the meantime, he had a birthday. He turned 18 last Sunday. This changes things legally, but I'm unclear on the specifics.

Sproing has been trying a little harder this week to find work. I think he wants to do the right thing, but sometimes... I don't know. Maybe I'm a bad influence on him. It isn't the same, me not working versus him not working, but he doesn't see it like that. But I feel guilt and other vague negative emotions about it.

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There are other things you probably want to know, or that I want to tell you, but this post is plenty long enough already, and I have pushed myself into a funk and don't have the gumption to write any more. That's "any more" not "anymore". There is a difference. These things become inordinately important to me when I have lost control of other parts of my life. Another example: there may be other things to say, and maybe I'll write another post soon. "May be" and "maybe", two different things.

What really matters?

Rolling Along

So I saw my doctor last week. She's leaving us!! This is the PA who came in when our long time family physician retired. I'm despondent. Anyway, she came into the exam room and noticed immediately that I look better, as in less stressed and stuff. So yeah, having those two young people out of my house is a good thing. But we knew that.

Last week I also saw my cancer doctor, the gynecological oncologist. He did a lab test thingie, the results of which I haven't heard yet, but the physical exam looked real good, he said. So onward and upward, or something.

Oh, there was this hurricane thing that happened out in the Atlantic east of here. South Carolina is all in the news about terrible flooding, the worst in 1000 years or something. Well, I'm fine. The yard is pretty sodden, the dog comes in from the back yard with mud on his paws. Otherwise, it's all good. That cannot be said about much of the state; check the news sources for details. The Java household is relatively unscathed.

Superman went with me to see the cancer doctor, because he's all concerned and stuff. We stopped for lunch at Panera, a treat because we have no such goodness here in Greenwood. And on the way home we got a call from Diva's birth mother Janice. Diva had broken one of Janice's rules and they had an animated disagreement about it. Diva had a boy over to the house while Janice was at work. OK, for me, when Diva lived here, that was not something I'd fuss about. She's going to do it anyway and I don't want to argue over that. Just not worth it to me. But not Janice. Don't know for sure why she called us, but we got an earful. And Janice said this was Diva's second strike. One more blatant disobedience and she was out. Well, I told her that Diva needs to find somewhere up there to live, someone else to live with, because we aren't taking her back. HA! I felt so strong.

Diva was nonchalant about having the boy over, about breaking a strict rule. I think that made Janice as mad as anything else. Diva doesn't like the rule, so she ignores it. It doesn't apply to her. She is above the rules. That child is gonna get into some big trouble one of these days. I am SO GLAD she doesn't live here anymore! While we were on the phone with them, I felt my heart rate increase. Perhaps my blood pressure went up too, I don't know. But there was this "ugh" feeling in my chest just listening to her holler. She was screaming at Janice as Janice was talking to us. *shudder*

We got a letter in today's mail informing us of Sproing's preliminary hearing to be held the afternoon of 20 October. I don't know how long after the preliminary hearing he'll have his trial. I hope they keep him in jail past his birthday in January. I don't want to deal with him, either.

So Superman and I are planning to visit his parents this weekend. These people are my in-laws, bless their hearts. I can do a couple of hours at a time with them and be fine. We're spending two days there, though. My mother-in-law and I are so very different. (My Mama and I are very different, too, but in different ways.) I'm easily annoyed by the m-i-l. For instance, she asked Superman yesterday what time we'd be arriving on Friday. (He's taking the day off work, so we'll leave here Friday.) Well, gosh, I don't know what time we'll get there! I don't know what time we'll leave here. It depends on how the morning rolls. I'm not a big planner. She is. And if we give her an estimate, she will expect us to be there exactly then.

If she was the one making the trip, she'd be all packed up the night before, everything in the car, probably. She'd set the alarm clock to get up precisely at (whatever time she thinks appropriate). A quick breakfast would transpire, and they'd be out the door and on their way at precisely the time she planned. And she'd show up on our doorstep at precisely the time (give or take 5 minutes, no more for sure) she said she'd be here. And expect me to have a full meal (meat and three, dessert, etc.) ready to go on the table as soon as they pull up. And berate me if everything wasn't ready, even if I'd cut my thumb so bad it needed stitches whilst preparing said meal. (True story there) And I, being the ever patient loving daughter-in-law that I am (-rolls eyes-) would refrain from telling her that if she doesn't like what's here, there's a Burger King just around the corner and she can get the fuck out of my house. No, I did not say that, but I thought it. I took a deep breath and turned away from her. And I finally got dinner on the table maybe half an hour later (don't remember exactly; it was a good 20 years ago), still with my bleeding thumb wrapped in a rag. And I ate dinner with them with my thumb throbbing. Then I went to the doctor's office to have it stitched up.

I may have some lingering animosity about that event. I still have the scar on my thumb.

She really is a very nice lady.  A fine person, thoughtful and hard working. We just have different priorities, different perspectives on the world. And very different sociopolitical philosophies. My stars, there are so many things we can't discuss when we're visiting them. And I can't cuss, either. Thankfully there was this hurricane thing this past weekend, so that'll give us a safe topic to discuss. I will, however, most likely go to the Baptist Church on Sunday morning. That should be... fun. I like the singing. It only lasts an hour.

This afternoon I mentioned to Superman my qualms about the upcoming visit. He said "You have put up with Diva and Sproing for all these years. You can deal with anything." I appreciate his faith in me.

Once again, here I am

So much has happened, but my heart hasn't been into the writing of it. However, I want to stay in contact with this blog. And damn it all, as so often happens once I get to this point all my ideas flee my head.

I think I need a nap.

I took a nap. Some time passed between those last two sentences.

Diva is once again living with her birth mother in Spartanburg. Her bedroom here has been transformed. First of all, Cory did a spiritual cleansing (and physical cleaning) of the space.

Wait, who's Cory? you ask. I have previously referred to him a C. He's the young man who started my whole gay journey, the one who moved in with us at age 17 when he came out to his mom and she kicked him out of her home. He has lived here off and on for the last almost ten years. And oh yeah, he has moved back in as of the 31st of August. Just a week or so after Diva left, coincidentally.

So, Diva's room: it got cleaned and cleansed, then Superman and I painted it blue. It's never been blue before, not since we've lived here. It's been green, pink and purple, yellow and purple, but not blue. After the distructo-child lived there, poisoning it with her hatred, that room needed a big change. It looks damned good, if I do say so myself. Cory lives there now. Diva knows she no longer has a room here, which hopefully will encourage her to NOT COME BACK!!

Now, for Sproing. He's in jail. Big people jail, not kiddie jail. The first day of school for the kids here was the 17th of August. Sproing skipped school that day and, unbeknownst to me, went with a friend of his to the home of another acquaintance and burgled the house. They broke in through a window and stole not one but two Play Stations (PS4s, I think). Plus the peripherals like cords, controllers and a couple of games. That was a Monday. That Thursday a couple of detectives from the police department came by to ask if I knew anything. I had seen the things, not knowing from whence they came. So the detectives went to the school and "interviewed" Sproing. He was taken to the county detention center from there and I haven't seen him since. He's been charged with second degree burglary and grand larceny (>$2000 but < $10,000).  I requested that he be kept there rather than let out on bail. The judge set his bail at $30,000. So there he sits.

Actually he is supposed to be in court tomorrow on his charge of credit card fraud for stealing almost $900 from us. I'm not going to worry about it. If they need him there, they'll have to walk him across the street from the detention center to the court house. I'm not sure when he's to appear for the new burglary and larceny charges. I'm not the victim on record for those.

And here's the thing. For a long time I've had hope for that kid. He's relatively intelligent. Stupid as shit in the unwise sense, but smart otherwise. He also talks a good talk. He's been stringing me along all summer, promising to look for a job and making a show of it, but not really doing anything. He said all sorts of inspiring things about starting school and being on track, etc. He had a conference with his guidance counselor the second day of school. They made grand plans for him to graduate next January, just half a year behind schedule. He sounded good. But the day before that discussion he had seriously broken the law.

He betrayed me. Or I allowed myself to be hoodwinked and thus feel betrayed. Diva has been a hot mess for the longest time and I have little hope of her being a responsible citizen, but I thought Spoing had the stuff to deliver.

So I am D O N E with him. I'm angry and hurt. I spoke to him on the phone a couple of times the first week he was incarcerated. He wanted me to arrange a meeting with the judge to try to work something out so he could be out on bail. HA! I said No. He's been there three weeks as of today. Funny, it seems like longer. Hmph, probably feels like longer to him, too. GOOD!! Anyway, I wrote him a letter yesterday and sent $20 (in a Postal Money Order only) for his canteen account. I called the jail to ask how I could visit him, and the nice lady said I had to be on an approved visitor list; he has to add me, but he needs to know my name, birth date, phone number, and drivers license number. Yeah, he won't know that one. But I asked about sending him stamps and envelopes so he can write to me, but she said nope. I can send money and he can buy those supplies in the canteen. So I sent some money. Which he'll probably spend on chips and soda. Anyway, I'll call in a few days and see if I'm on his visitor list. I'm about ready to talk to him again, but have only recently reached this point. Superman isn't ready to talk to him yet.

If he ends up staying in jail until (or past) January 24th, he won't move back home. That's his 18th birthday, and after he's 18 we aren't legally obligated to providing a home for him. Since he confessed to his involvement with the burglary I guess he'll plead guilty unless he gets a public defender who convinces him otherwise. The stolen goods were retrieved from this house, though, where he said he'd hid them, so I don't think he has a defense. Anyway, if convicted I predict he'll spend at least 12 months in jail, maybe more. He's in the county jail now. After conviction, though, I don't know if he'll stay in the jail or go to prison. As I was recently informed, there's a difference.

I never thought I'd be having this discussion about one of my children. It turns my stomach.

So the house has been peaceful for a couple of weeks since Diva left. Twitch is here still, and Cory's here now. They are so much more calm than Diva and Sproing! My life has, for now anyway, eased somewhat. The stress level is much lower. I'm still in shock, or something like it. Don't think I'll relax until both of them turn 18. Diva hits the big "adult" on 4 December.

In the meantime I'm not sure what I'm doing. Working on Diva's room was helpful. Actually I got to go through all her stuff. She'd left everything at the home of a friend when she left for Spartanburg, and Superman retrieved it from there. We had it here for a few days before we were "able" to get it to her. I cleaned out a lot of junk. Seriously, empty shampoo and deodorant containers? I had Cory go through her shirts to get rid of what he thought was unsuitable. I wanted that done but wasn't quite able to do it myself. Now it's all NOT in my house. I went through Sproing's stuff too. He has significantly less than she did.

The next project is to make changes to his old room similar to what we did to hers. Not sure what color(s) to paint it. Diva's room is light smoky blue on three walls, slightly darker on the 4th wall. We might do something like that with the colors for Sproing's old room, or paint it one color. Do any of you have suggestions? I won't go with purple again, not that I don't (or didn't) like that color, but after Diva it has some negative associations for me. Also no red. I don't do red, not in large swaths like that.

I'm rambling. I want to comment on Jay's suicide, but I'm not sure what to say. It hurts. Hurts more this week than it did last week, for some reason. As I said to a couple of other bloggers, it's a tragic situation all around.

I've had trouble this week getting anything done. Tuesday was somewhat productive, but yesterday and today I haven't done jack. Can't seem to get myself out of bed. I finally showered at 5:15 yesterday evening. Haven't bathed today. I did get dressed, though. Yay me. I made a list Tuesday of things to do yesterday. And there it sits, waiting for me to do something. Maybe tomorrow.

And that's about all I have to say right now. Writing this blog post has been the most productive thing I've done today. I'm gonna call that a win.

I'm blogstipated

I don't post often enough so when I finally sit down to write, there's so much to say it gets too long and I forget some of what I wanted to say. And other problems, but I forgot them just now.

Last week Twitch was transferred back to the Greenwood store (Arby's) so we no longer have to make that long drive to Simpsonville. What a relief! I actually like the drive sometimes, but not when it's so hot, and not four times a day. So now I'm glad he didn't get an apartment there.

Diva is a hot mess, as usual. She got this internship thing at a hair salon, then never went. She's being her old crazy self again, and not being nice to me very often. I don't want to talk about it.

Let's see... Sproing. He's an ass. Hangs around the house most of the day with his friends, playing video games and talking shit. He tells me he has a lead on one job or another nearly every day, but nothing ever becomes of it. Yes, he's taking advantage of me. Again. Still.

Light's birthday is Friday. She'll be 26. She's been in my dreams recently, but as a small child. Sometimes she's under 2 years old, sometimes she's pre-teen. Sometimes my other children are in the dreams too. She was such a lovely child. I miss that.

Superman and I were in Target yesterday and saw some cute dresses for little girls. I like the idea of sweet little girls, ages approximately 3-7, but the reality can be gritty. I know from experience. Maybe I'm ready for grandparenthood. Thing is, none of my children is ready for parenthood, so let's just skip it for now.

Here's the segue to the next topic:

Sproing hangs out in the living room most of the day. Whenever I go through there I get a pang of melancholy or something in the middle of my chest. Melancholy doesn't really begin to describe it. It's sadder and more anxious than my concept of melancholy. Whatever, it isn't pretty. This ball of burning lead in my chest saps my motivation right out of me.

I've said before that I am a hoarder. I want to clear out a lot of this junk in my life, but there is a strong emotional component to this mess. I'm a mess. For months I've been staring at these shelves in my bedroom. Just those two over there, not that big bookshelf on that side of the room. No, not that one up there either. Let's for a moment ignore the one(s) behind me. Just these two little (OK, not so little) shelves on top of my two drawer filing cabinet. (Now I want to create a diversion by telling you how wonderful my filing cabinet is, but that's just an unhealthy coping strategy, so let's not go there.) So this morning, feeling like accomplishing something, I started on the first cubby. (The unit has four cubbies, two small and two large. And the top of the shelf. And all that crap in front of it.) I got everything except the really big unabridged dictionary cleaned out! I even threw some of it away! Go me! But OMG I'm now approaching a nervous anxiety attack. Walking through the living room made it worse. I'm hydrating, and I had a V-8, hoping vegetables will help my body deal. I can write coherent sentences (I think) so it could be worse. It could also be a lot better.

Papers from my college art classes were in that cubby. Some sketch books, some notes and communications from the class. I took those classes only about five years ago. It seems like a long time now. There was a note from my professor encouraging me to continue my art education because he sees a lot of promise/potential. All the gods have mercy upon me!! I want to! So much! I remember I cried when I first got that note from him, and I cried again when I read it today. I'm currently helpless, (well, probably not completely) hopelessly entangled in the trappings of my life, unable to exercise my creativity.

Actually, one of the things I want to do today is sew. I have a new dress completely cut out and ready to sew together. I've started sewing a shirt and want to get back to it. But do you know how close my sewing room/office is to the living room where the "chaps" are hanging? I can't go there. Gads, I feel so helpless and weak and stupid.

In other, lighter news, I broke a tooth over the weekend. For those of you keeping score at home, it's the bottom right, third tooth from the end. I have no wisdom teeth anymore, so don't count that. A piece of the tooth sheared off the side between the teeth. It's stuck between the teeth now, and shifts around when I chew on that side. Feels really strange. I broke it while eating cornbread. Soft, fluffy, oh so good cornbread. Or at least that's when I noticed it. I was also eating soup. Soup with nothing hard in it. I have no idea how it broke. I suspect there's a filling in that tooth and it popped off beside the filling. Thankfully it doesn't hurt. I have an appointment with my dentist tomorrow midday.

This is about all I have the emotional energy to write right now. Have a good July.

This is pretty

Contemporary Duvet Covers And Duvet Sets by Denver Furniture & Accessories DENY Designs

There is a lot to say, but I'm not going to go into all of it now.

Diva is doing well. She's working at the Voc Rehab training center and just got an internship at a hair salon.

Twitch is a manager trainee at Arby's, now working in Simpsonville, SC but still living at home. No car, no drivers license. Which means I'm still driving him an hour one way to work and back. Four hours a day in my non-air-conditioned truck. I'm getting a driver's tan - just the left arm and left side of my face. Reminds me of the old bus driving days. Twitch is supposed to be looking for housing close to work. He has a couple of contacts, but things are going slow.

Sproing is a pain in my ass. In my last post (a long time ago) I told you about him stealing Superman's debit card and going on a Wal-Mart spending spree. Since then we discovered he's been using one of Superman's credit cards to order things from Amazon. All tolled he's stolen about $900. Yes, we filed a complaint with law enforcement. He goes to trial (or whatever it is) on the 5th of August. Or perhaps he'll just go back to kiddie jail. We saw his DJJ probation officer last week. She gave him 20 hours of community service. She also said he's on her short list. If he steps out of line again she's sending him back before the family court judge who will likely put him back in kiddie jail for a while. We shall see.

Mostly, when not driving back and forth to Simpsonville, I have been binge watching back seasons of Criminal Minds on Netflix. Love Netflix!

Ten days after Sproing returns, plus other places my brain goes

Yeah, sorry it took so long to update the whole Sproing returns thing. It's been a busy week and a half.

Things are not, unfortunately, very different from before he left. We've had a few good days in a row here, but the first week was hell. He's arguing about almost everything. I try to have a discussion, a conversation, and he thinks I'm attacking him and responds accordingly. Yelling ensues. He has a problem with authority.

I took him to get his driver's license this week. That helped. Before he left he had a traffic ticket that he didn't pay. While he was in jail he got (delivered here, of course) a letter from the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) saying that he had to pay the ticket ($100) before stated date or turn over his license to the DMV. Of course he didn't pay it, being as he was in jail. And I sure as hell didn't pay it. Actually, I took his license to the DMV and turned it in. So Sproing had to pay the $100 ticket, then had to pay a $100 fee to get his license reinstated (or something like that) PLUS a $25 fee for the actual physical license. I helped him a little bit with those second fees, but not much. The $25 was a surprise to both of us.

Anyway, since getting his license he's been generally satisfied with life. Superman allows him to drive the truck. Sproing has so far been pretty good about keeping gas in the truck.

OK, here's another concern I have. Where is he getting this money? I asked. He said one of his friends has been giving him money for gas, but I have doubts about his story. If I press him for more details, I suspect he will go all ape-wild mad again. Perhaps I'll suggest to Superman that he question the boy.

In other news, Twitch is doing very well at Arby's. It isn't the job he wants, but it is the job he has and he's doing it well. The good news is that he's been promoted to manager. The bad news is he's being transferred to a store an hour away. That's actually good news in the long run, but problematic for the immediate. The idiot hasn't been saving money like he should have so he doesn't have enough money to move. And he doesn't have a car. He doesn't even have a driver's license. So far he's been able to hitch rides with coworkers. Next week there are two days when he has no ride to work. This is not cool. Mama doesn't like it. Mama doesn't want to drive two hours round trip twice a day. NOT the hip gig.

I got Sproing enrolled in school finally. He starts Monday. He's been assigned to the alternative school, but he's come in at an inopportune time. Standardized testing for his grade starts Tuesday, and he has to take the tests at the zoned school, his regular high school. He doesn't have any assigned classes there. He goes in Monday at 10:00 for about 1.5 hours for some kind of pre-testing thingie, then Tuesday and Wednesday he'll be there at 9:00 for a few hours. Possibly all day, I'm not sure. Getting him to and from school is going to interfere with Twitch's transportation needs, not to mention that I have to get Diva to and from her Adult Ed program from 8:30 to 11:30. And I can't just leave Sproing at the high school since he doesn't have any classes there. If the testing last long enough on Tuesday and Wednesday he can take the bus home. I hope that works.

Fortunately Sproing and Diva will be going to the same location once he's at the alternative school. Oh, they call that program "Refocus Academy." Doncha' love it? Anyhoo, the GED classes, though not affiliated with the school district, are held at the same campus as the alternative public school programs. They'll both start school at 8:30, then Diva leaves at 11:30. Sproing stays until 2:something. Maybe 2:30, I don't rightly recall.

In the intervening weeks since my last significant post, baseball season started. YAY!! My Braves have won some and lost some. Right now we're in the bottom of the 9th in Philadelphia (hi Denise) and we're up 5-2. We've lost our last five, maybe six games, so a win here will be especially nice. And we won! Lest you feel too bad for the Phillies, they won last night. We play the Phillies again tomorrow afternoon. I don't know who wins that game yet, you know, time being what it is.

I don't know. Perhaps my brain is finished with this post. There are other things I have thought about writing recently whilst doing something else, but I get here and they flee my mind.

Here's something. I've been fascinated with New Zealand. It's going on winter there. I have Dunedin, NZ programmed into my phone's weather app so I can trace winter's progress. I'm sad that our summer is approaching, as the heat really gets to me. And why New Zealand, you ask? Because of Anyta Sunday. She writes gay romance stories, and I read a lot of gay romance stories. I read other things, too, but I read a lot of gay romance. She is from New Zealand and a lot of her stories are set there. Why Dunedin, NZ you ask? That's the location of University of Otago, the setting of one of the stories I read recently. So, New Zealand. I'd like to go. Perhaps I'd like to study at the UofO. I like going to school. I'm not fond of some of the shit going on in my life here, and I'm not in school right now. I could run away to New Zealand and study at University of Otago. It's a fun thing to think about when I'm lying in bed not going to sleep at 3am.

Also, insomnia. But I don't want to talk about that right now.

Here's a video I just watched. I like this guy's educational videos.

It's only Tuesday? I thought for sure it would be Friday by now.

 

Yo-yo. That's what she is. Or that's what she's doing to me, I don't know.
Yes, the Diva is back. This doesn't surprise you, does it? I hope not. We all should have predicted this. Hell, I did.

She seems to be back to stay, at least for a while. We discussed her continued education. On the advice of the student support specialist at the high school, we're looking into the adult education GED program at the alternative school. This seems to be the best bet for the child.

I am kinda depressed. It's hard to write much. By the way, I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow (Wednesday) afternoon. Haven't seen her in a while, what with surgery and recovery and all. And boy, do I have a lot to share with her!

An old friend stopped by the house today. Wendell. I probably wrote about him a few years ago. He worked with Sproing for a while, teaching him how to be a decent human being. Don't know how well it worked, but oh well. Wendell is a fantastic fellow. He lives in Los Angeles now and works with a social service agency that targets people with at-risk behaviors for HIV/AIDS prevention education, among other things. Wendell worked with Sproing, but he and I became good friends. I miss him. It was very good to see him again.

I had a good conversation with Diva last night. She told me a little bit about living with her birth mom Janice. In a round-about way, probably unintentionally, she kinda told me that I'm a good mother. It took me a couple of hours after the conversation to realize it, but hey! I'm taking the compliment.

Jay asked about Twitch. Yes, Twitch still lives here. He works at Arby's, making sandwiches for the hungry lunch crowd almost every day. He is doing well, but really should be working (in my opinion) as a graphic designer or something related, which is what he got his degree for. However, he has plans to transfer to a store in Charlotte, NC this summer so he can look for graphic design work there. He went to college in Charlotte, so he's familiar with the city. It's big enough to have more opportunity for work in his field. That's the hope, anyway. He just turned 24 and feels like it's a drag to still be living with his parents. As much as we love and support him, we think he should be living on his own, too. All in good time.

That's about all I have the emotional energy to relay. I'll be back.

Diva update and other random shit on a Friday night

So, Diva. She was here for two nights, last Sunday and Monday (I think. Time runs together, becoming meaningless). She was supposed to have a job interview at Burger King on Tuesday, but she didn't go. It was snowing outside, but the weather wasn't too cold and no snow was sticking to the pavement. And I told her that if she was here tomorrow (which would be Wednesday in this version of time) I would take her to school to enroll. Son of a gun if she didn't have somewhere for her Daddy to take her on Tuesday night. She went to stay with some man (early 20s, Superman guesses) in Edgefield, about 45 minutes from here. I have no idea who this character is, whether he's a decent person or not. I suppose I should care, or should have checked, but as independent as Miss Diva wants to be, it seems improper for us to interfere.

In related news, her birth mother Janice told me she thinks Diva will be back in jail eventually, probably sooner than later.

Superman heard from Diva the other night. She texted him she wanted him to pick her up from Edgefield and take her to a friend's house in Saluda. You can look those places up on a map if you want. They are both about 45 minutes from Greenwood, one to the southwest, the other to the southeast. And not close to each other. Superman didn't reply and we haven't heard from her since.

Maybe we should be more diligent, but honestly, I have no energy to do so. I have not been a good mother to her. I tried, did the best I knew how, but it didn't work. My attitude now: oh well.

In Other News-
Superman took me out to dinner tonight. McAlister's. Decent food for a franchise deli. When I sat down at the table I KA-WHANGED my elbow on the ledge beside the chair. O.M.G. that hurt! I hit it hard. Not on the funny bone nerve, but on the bottom of the elbow. I've had ice on it since we got home. I'll take a pain reliever eventually. And yes, I can (almost) type while keeping my elbow on ice.

More Other News-
We bought a birthday present for Twitch tonight, only two weeks after his birthday. It came to me. I didn't know what to get him before. We got him a super big beach towel. Did you know Wal-Mart has put beach towels on display? At least they have in Greenwood, South Carolina. The young man has wanted a large beach towel for a while now.

Next News-
I have read a lot recently. Books on my Kindle. Have I mentioned that I really like my Kindle? I also watched some movies on TCM (cable movie channel). I watched two Frank Capra offerings yesterday, "Meet John Doe" and "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington." Frank Capra had a type. Evidently he was an optimistic soul. Indigo (Ashen Grey on facebook) says the movies, which he has never seen, would be improved with the addition of monsters or zombies. But that's Indigo.

I am still taking it easy and recovering from the surgery. It gets kinda boring. Thankfully, I like boring.

Superman turned me on to a new artist and song today. Well, he's new to me. It's Hozier, with Take Me To Church.


His explanation of the song is really good, too. Check it out.

The Bitch Is Back

We got a call from Diva early this afternoon. Superman and I were with friends near Charlotte, NC when the call came in. Diva says Janice kicked her out of the house. Janice says Diva got pissed about having to do chores and live with all those siblings, packed up her own stuff and said she's leaving. Stupid stuff, no matter how you slice it. I don't believe Diva, not sure I believe Janice either. No matter, we are responsible for her care as long as she is a minor. December 4th, 2015 she's 18 and NOT OUR PROBLEM anymore.

Diva says she needs to stay here for two days until she can move in with a friend here in Greenwood. I have no idea how those plans are progressing. My guess is that said friend doesn't know about the plan. We'll see. If she has to stay here, though, she'll go to school. We also aren't going to put up with the shit she's dealt us for so long. Things are going to change. Heaven and all the saints above and below give me strength to stand my ground.

I'm still supposed to be taking it easy, recovering from this surgery. Stress doesn't help. I took an Ativan (benzodiazepine) before we left our friends' place. I'm about to take another one now. I intend to stay as chillaxed as possible while she's here. If she is still here Monday, I'll go on the war path or something.

I don't have a good feeling about this.

Penguins are some of nature’s great defecators.

Bet you didn't know that little factoid. Here's more from that source.*

Penguins are some of nature’s great defecators. In order to avoid messing up their feathers and their nests, they point their bottoms out of the nests and can shoot their poo up to 40 centimetres away. Researchers at the International University Bremen in Germany calculated that in order to do this the birds squeezed four times as hard as humans usually do. The colour of the birds' poo is important for researchers; if it's pink then the penguins have been eating krill, while white faeces point to a diet of fish. Green poo indicates a diet of algae, a food of last resort that usually means other foods are in short supply.

Heart In Hand (Rox) asked me to post something new so that the penis faucets aren't popping onto her screen. So I give you Penguins.

I will now update you on the Diva Drama, of which there is much. Last you heard, she was in jail. Her bio dad Robert did not actually come to get her out. Taking with birth mom Janice today, she said Robert talks a big talk but isn't so good with the follow through. Diva was release from the county detention center Saturday morning. She spent four nights in jail. Is that enough of a deterrent? I don't know. Don't know if deterrents work on her anyway. As I've said so many times before, that child ain't right in the head.

When she came home she told us she wasn't going back to Janice's house. Shit. She didn't like the lack of privacy or the other kids going through her stuff and taking things. HA! She's been doing shit like that to her siblings for years. Anyway, Superman talked to Diva Sunday and convinced her to go back to Janice's until after my surgery and recovery. (Surgery for a complete hysterectomy is scheduled for this Thursday, Feb 5.)

This morning shortly after 10:00 Diva and I left for Janice's house. Here's the plan: drive to Janice's, drop her and her small bag of stuff off there, high tail it home. Unfortunately things didn't go so smoothly. Janice texted she had a job interview** and wouldn't be home (after telling me at 9 a.m. that she'd be home all day) so I should take Diva to Janice's friend Phat's house. Yeah, Phat. Whatever. Said Diva knows how to get there. So I ask Diva, she said she knows where Phat lives but doesn't know how to get there, and doesn't want to go there anyway. She said she'd rather go to her older brother's house, and she does know the way there.

We go first to Janice's house to 1) see if Janice is still there and 2) give Diva a familiar starting place for the drive to her brother's. Janice wasn't there. Diva directed me out of the neighborhood but soon missed the part where I was supposed to get on the interstate. Five miles later she says we missed the turnoff. WTF. So we go back to the interstate, and I ask her whether we need to get on Northbound or Southbound. She has no clue what I'm talking about, says that the sign says Asheville Highway. But that sign is on the interstate, of course. In which direction? Seriously, she didn't grasp the concept that there are two directions the interstate runs. I stopped at a convenience store to ask directions. It didn't really help. We drove north too far, then came back south too far, and never saw the Asheville Highway sign. We phoned the brother's baby mama for directions, and that didn't help enough. I asked her what the highway number was. Her response: huh? I don't know.

At that point I checked the maps app on my slow piece of shit phone and found Asheville Highway (176). That still didn't help enough because I was on the wrong piece of interstate. There's a business loop off the main interstate, which is where I should have been but wasn't.

After driving north and south and north and south for over an hour I finally connected with Janice, who by then was finished with her interview and wanted to go home. We met at a McDonald's. I passed Diva off to Janice. Praise the heavenly host.

By now it's after 1:00, my phone battery is almost dead, and I'm hungry and thirsty. I set out to find real food (did NOT go into the McD's!). Had a lovely omelet at IHOP. I inadvertently left my phone in the car, and when I returned I saw that I had missed a call from Janice. Well, I called Superman to let him know where I was, then turned off the phone. I didn't want to hear what Janice had to say until I got home. It was a good move.

The whole trip should have taken no more than three hours. I got home five hours after I left. Came in, plugged my phone up, called Superman. Oh dear. He had heard from Janice. And someone from Department of Social Services (DSS). Seems Diva had one of her shit fits shortly after I dropped her off. Janice called the cops. I'm a bit fuzzy on the details, but they ended up in the DSS office. The upshot of that was that since we are her guardians, we have to go get her and bring her back here. Oh, shit. I 'bout lost it. I was shaking and tearful. We have been through the ringer with this little bitch for so long, and here we finally thought we're rid of her. Oh shit.

So I called Janice. We had a nice little talk. She said to call her back when Superman got home from work and we'd discuss things. Which we did, and Janice agreed to keep Diva for now.

I'm scheduled for surgery in three days. I'm emotionally fragile right now anyway, and expect it'll be worse after the surgery when I will be basically defenseless for some weeks. It is a very bad idea for Diva to be here now for many reasons.

I talked to Janice after she'd been at the DSS office. Superman was on the speaker phone with the lady from DSS, so Janice heard a lot of information that was new to her. So when we spoke, she'd had some time to ruminate on the new info. She indicated that the shit fit Diva had was much milder than what she usually does for us. I get the impression that Janice wants to see what she can do to help Diva, to "fix" anything that's messed up due to Diva living with us. And frankly I am thankful for that. Anyone who's read this blog for a while knows that Diva is messed up and Superman and I are so far over our heads with her that we can't see the light. Yes, we've messed up. We have done everything we know to do to make things right, but she's a mess. If Janice can make a difference, I hope and pray she does. For right now, Diva isn't here. And Janice and I have been discussing going through the legal process of giving her legal guardianship. I would love to do that, and told Janice today that we plan to call our lawyer (probably after my surgery) to get the ball moving on that.

I would like Superman to fill in some details about his conversation with the DSS lady.

Thank you, Babe. Okay, then. I might get a thing or two out of sequence, but this is the gist of the conversation.
So I'm sitting at my desk, minding my own business (well ... technically I was minding Capsugel's business, but you get the idea) when my phone rings.
Not recognizing the number, I answered with my name.
"Sir, this is [Jane Doe] with Spartanburg DSS.
All right, picture with me if you will a very large, formidable, dour, scowling, severely-dressed maiden aunt with her hair in a tight bun, who is of the opinion that fun should be illegal. That is the voice that spoke to me. Then "Spartanburg DSS" sank in, and I sighed. "What did she do this time?"
"Sir, I don't think you understand. I am here with [Janice] and we need for you to come and get Diva."
It took me a few seconds to process that, too. "What?"
"Diva can't stay with [Janice]. She is not Diva's legal guardian. You are."
"Legally, ma'am, I'm her father, not her legal guardian, but that's details. Would you tell me what's wrong?"
Janice spoke up, "She started pulling shenanigans just as soon as Java's truck was out of sight. I can't take care of her if she's gonna act like that."
More processing of information on my part, interspersed with dealing with the psychic punch I just took to the gut. "What made her change her mind?"
Jane Doe paused for a second. "What do you mean?"
"She was all fired up to go to Spartanburg to be with Janice. She's been of that mind since they first met back last fall. I'm curious to know what changed."
"I have no idea if anything changed, but [Janice] is not her legal guardian. She gave up her rights to Diva when she placed her for adoption."
"Yes, I know."
"Then why would you try to make [Janice] take her?"
At this point I'm wondering if Jane is even listening to me. "Ma'am ... I have been trying my best to preserve the peace and balance what Diva wants with what is best for her. That is a very difficult thing to do when Diva has such a loose grip on reality."
"Well the law is very clear in this case, and you can't force ..."
"Ma'am, I didn't force anything. I was trying to help Diva get what she told me she wanted. She hates living with us. She has for a long time. It makes for a VERY tense atmosphere in the house and no one is happy with it, but as you stated, we are responsible for her. We have been doing the best we could ..."
"You could have gotten her some help. That child is out of control!"
I stopped and absorbed that. Excuse me? FUCKING EXCUSE ME?!? "Ma'am, she has been a client of the mental health system since the age of nine."
"You should try counseling."
I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it, then resumed the conversation, understanding that she wasn't paying very close attention to what I said. Another 'gubmint' drone with an agenda and a tight ass. "Ma'am, I need you to listen to me."
"What?" She sounded offended.
"Diva has been in counseling since the age of nine."
"Well, you should do family counseling."
"We have. On many occasions. Family, individual, with several different counselors. Some of it court ordered because of her violent tendencies."
"... Uh ... have you tried ..."
"She is in the state mental health system. She has been seen by private counselors. She was admitted to a mental hospital for threatening my life. She spent thirteen months in a residential treatment facility, and they gave her back to us because they said they couldn't do anything with her. She has attacked Java. She has attacked multiple classmates. She has a history of stealing whatever she can get her hands on, and has been doing that for better than a dozen years. My wife and I have counseling ourselves, just so we can have some clue how to deal with her."
"... Oh."
I was sort of on a roll at that point. "If she doesn't like the way reality is panning out around her, she just discards it and makes up one of her own. She's done that most of her life. She has five clinical diagnoses, including Impulse Control Disorder and Reactive Attachment Disorder. She doesn't consider us her family and never has. Now, there is a physical, organic basis for some of that because she has a congenital brain defect, periventricular leukomalacia, which means part of the brain is missing. It's the part that contains that little governor that says, 'Now wait a minute and think about that before you do it.' It helps explain her problem with impulse control and stealing. But please believe me when I tell you that we have done everything in our power to help her and to adapt to this hellish situation. And let me also state that I am sick of being cast as the Bad Guy because I had the gall to try to help her achieve her goals.
"I see. Well. I'm, uh, very sorry sir. But you still have to come get her."
"Fine. Janice, I guess I'll see you this evening, then."

So there's that. And as I said, Diva isn't here, at least for now. And I hope, pray, beg, plead that she stays away. Perhaps I'm a bad mother, but dammit, she's a bad child and no one has any idea what it's like to raise a kid like her unless they've done it themselves.

*There are a bunch of interesting penguin facts at that link, hardly any of them having to do with poop. Check it out if you have a minute. Or more.

**She got the job! She's been unemployed for a few weeks and really needs that job. I'm happy for her.

Ugh - Now With Updates!

Diva is here tonight. Superman and I had to get her from her birth mom Janice's house this evening. She has her court appearance (for third degree assault and giving false info to police) tomorrow morning and Janice couldn't bring her here, so she texted me this morning asking if we could provide transportation.

So at 9 tomorrow morning (Tuesday) I'll take her to the courthouse, then sit there watching the parade. If the judge lets her go, I'll take her back to Janice. If the judge sentences her to jail time, I'll leave dancing a jig of mourning.

I will update this post with the results of our adventure in the next day or so, so stay tuned.

As I write this update it is Wednesday afternoon. In completely unrelated news, our auto insurance expires and renews today, but we haven't received the proof of insurance cards yet. Either that or they came and the envelope was misplaced. A likely scenario in my world. 

But I'm stalling. 

Diva isn't here right now. Yes, Slugmama, I danced a jig of mourning as she was hauled off to the county detention center. The jig was more of a thought exercise than me actually bouncing my fat ass in the county municipal building. 

The judge dismissed the assault charge - nolle prosequi, which I've always pronounced nolo process, but I'm no JD. They nabbed her on giving false information. For those of you just tuning in, she was in a fight on the school bus a week after she turned 17. The cops were called, she told them she was 15 to avoid being charged as an adult. Then of course while processing the report it came to light that she was actually 17. She was arrested right here in our living room on New Years Eve. It was the most exciting thing we did on NYE this (last) year, but we're boring. 

The fine, I guess it's the maximum fine but we didn't know that, was $1092 or 30 days in jail. The judge reduced the fine to $175 or 10 days in jail. Well, we aren't going to pay one thin dime for her mess. We've suffered enough expense, both monetary and emotional, on behalf of this child for the last 16 years. Diva tried to call her bio-dad, Robert, but he wasn't available. She texted Janice, who couldn't do anything about it but asked Diva if we were going to pay. HA! When she couldn't contact anyone else, they took her across the street to jail. I was giddy! I giggled all the way home. (Which little piggy does that?) 


Robert called me in the afternoon when he got a free minute and we had a very nice conversation. I like Robert. He indicated that he was going to come down to Greenwood from where he lives near Spartanburg to pay her fine and take her home. Not my home, mind you, but either Janice's or his. I talked to him again last night and he said he'd be here in the morning to get her, but I haven't heard anything from them. She brought a few things here when we got her Monday night and I expect she'll come by to get them. Maybe not. 

I spoke with the clerk of court (I think that's her position) about Diva's sentence. She said Diva will only spend 5 days in jail unless she acts up. Time off for good behavior. So 30 days really means 5. Good grief. Also the fine will be reduced a bit for every day she stays in jail. That makes sense. 

So right now I don't actually know where Diva is. She might be in jail, she might be with Robert. I really don't care (much*) as long as she isn't here!

* She's my daughter. We tried (Lord knows, we tried) to make this family work, to integrate her into the family as befits a daughter. She has resisted our efforts almost from the first, when we got custody of her on February 4, 1999. Almost 16 years ago exactly. I have invested so much in this relationship, in her. We have 16 years of history together. It is impossible for me to divorce myself from her emotionally. I mourn the family that we could have been. For my health and sanity I'm letting it go (shaking it off, as is so popular these days) inasmuch as I am able. It is a complicated relationship, and she will always to some extent be my daughter. So of course I will always care about her, what happens to her, what she does. But I will no longer wrap my life around her. 

Further news from the front lines

Three things I want to talk about specifically: Diva, Sproing, and my health. Let's start with my health.

For those of you just tuning in, my previous post explained the diagnosis of endometrial cancer. Or actually, precancerous atypical cells in the endometrium. They seem to have caught it early, it's likely restricted to the endometrium inside the uterus, a complete hysterectomy will probably be the only treatment I'll need. Unless the cancer has spread, which is unlikely and I'm studiously pretending that it hasn't. No use worrying about something that probably won't happen.

I saw the gynecologic oncology doc last Wednesday. I like him. And he comes highly recommended. Both Superman and I feel a lot better, more secure, less nervous having met him. My surgery is scheduled for the 5th of February.

I have to get my cardiologist to sign off on the surgery first. I had a few episodes of Pre-Ventricular Contractions (PVC, also known as Poly Vinyl Chloride) last year. The cardiologist seemed to think it's no big deal, the PVC won't affect my heart's function at all. But the surgeon won't cut until the cardio says it's OK. The cardio appointment is the 3rd of Feb. We're cutting it kinda close here, guys.

I get to do bowel prep the day before surgery. I asked about that, even, and it is standard procedure. After having some of my guts removed I DO NOT want to be straining to empty my bowels anytime soon. So the magnesium citrate will clean me out before and I shouldn't have to worry about anything for a few days thereafter. For some reason that gives me great comfort.

Any more questions? Ask in the comments and I'll try to post again with answers.

OK, let's talk about Sproing. He is incarcerated in a "camp," a dreary flat sandy compound of low flat gray buildings. It ain't luxury, but then this is punishment, so good for it. He seems to be doing well in that well structured environment. He's mostly behaving himself and is working toward his goals. There was some question in his mind (but no one else's) as to how long his sentence is. He thought it was 1-3 months, but everyone else was saying it's 1-6 months. He keeps asking me to check with the local probation officer, so I finally did earlier this week. His sentence is 1-6 months. According to the case worker at the camp, this was fully explained to him last week. I think he didn't like the answer so he asked someone else. Sorry, chump, the answer remains the same. Anyway, at the rate he's progressing through his goals, he'll likely be released in early to mid March. He was thinking February, but not so fast. I'm glad he's not getting out when he thought he would, because that's when I have my surgery. I don't need him to help me recover. Contrarily, I think he wouldn't help at all.

In related news, my relative is in jail. My oldest nephew, now in his late 20s, is awaiting trial on a drug charge. He spent a while in jail not too long ago on drug charges. According to his father, this time he will probably get 10 years in prison. Prison is not jail. Jail is relatively short term or temporary housing, like how my nephew is in jail awaiting trial. If one has a short sentence to serve (like Diva might. More on that in a minute.) then one spends a few months in jail. For long term incarceration, it's prison. Neither is pleasant, but prison is way more hard core. I feel bad for my nephew, but he's been stupid enough to get himself into this situation. I have no doubt that he is guilty of some drug related shenanigans, if not exactly what he's charged with. We shall see. My brother is about too frustrated with his son after all this time. He and I share a sense of resignation about the fate of our children. We've done the best we knew how, with every good intention, but these kids make their own decisions about stuff and shit happens.

Now on to Diva. A lot has happened in the last few months, and I know I'm not going to hit every point here. As mentioned in past posts, she got in touch with her birth mother Janice in late summer/early fall. Diva spent almost every weekend with Janice to begin with. Then it was every other weekend, or once a month. But both Diva and Janice talked about Diva moving up to Spartanburg County to live with Janice. Of course Superman and I thought that was a stellar idea. The tentative plan was to move her up there after the school semester ended here. And that is what happened. The closer we got, the less enthusiastic Diva was about the idea. She did not/does not want to live with us. She has made that clear over and over again for years. She would like to live with her friend Shi and Shi's mother.

Shi just turned 18, dropped out of school as soon as she was old enough, which coincided with her 9th grade year if I recall. She was quite a bit older than her 9th grade peers, having been held back a few times because of failure to attend school. See a pattern here? Shi's mother is a high school drop out. Says she's got her GED, but I don't believe her. They got kicked out of public housing, though I never found out why. Over the three or so years we've known them they have been evicted from every place they've lived, and each place is more wretched than the last. Last week they were evicted from one of the nastiest little trailers I've ever known of, for not paying their rent. And Diva wants to go live with them. They are staying with Shi's grandfather temporarily, but are technically homeless. So no, we don't think it's a good idea for Diva to stay with Shi. She wouldn't go to school if she lived with them, and we very much want her to get her high school diploma.

Janice also wants Diva to get her diploma. As I've gotten to know Janice over the past few months I really like her. I appreciate her efforts, and agree with what she says are her priorities. (The proof is in the pudding. She says a lot of hopeful things, but time will tell if she really means it. So far, though, so good.)

The local school district ended first semester on the 14th of January. I took Diva to withdraw her from school. She was supposed to have been in school that week to take her final exams, but since she'd missed so much school already, she failed all her classes due to absence. So we withdrew her, and took her up to Janice the following Sunday, Jan 18th. She's been gone a week now. Oh My Gods you have no idea what a relief this is! Superman and I feel almost giddy with relief, freedom, release.

Janice took Diva to enroll her in the local school district on the 20th, the day after Martin Luther King Jr. day. Funny story. The district looked at her transcripts and decided to put her in the alternative school due to her excessive disciplinary write-ups. Last year Diva almost went to our alternative school, but because of her Individual Education Plan (IEP) accommodations they decided to leave her to disrupt the "normal" school. But not now! Oh, also, they didn't let her start last week. This Monday will be her first day of school. I don't know what she's been doing for the past week. Maybe driving Janice crazy.

And did I tell you that Janice has five more children younger than Diva? She had two more girls after Diva, then three boys. And Diva has an older brother. Don't know if the older brother lives with them, but with Diva there are at least six children in the house, and it isn't a big house. I'm just snickering.

But get this: today Diva called us and said she doesn't want to stay there anymore. "Tough shit, bitch!" No, I didn't really say that. I was very sweet when I told her that no way in hell was she coming back here. I said all the plans are now in place for her to be there and she needs to stay. "But I haven't started school yet." But you're already enrolled up there. She didn't get the response she wanted. Sucks to be you, girl. We weren't on the phone long.

So let me tell you about Diva's legal trouble. Four days after she turned 17 (this past December) she got into a "physical altercation" on the school bus, one serious enough for the bus driver to call the police. When questioned, Diva said she was 15. The point here is that at 17, young people are treated as adults when they commit crimes. The consequences of fighting on the bus are very different at 15 than at 17. As an "adult" Diva was charged with assault of some kind. Third degree assault, Superman tells me. And because she gave false information to a law officer, that's another legal offense. If I remember correctly, it was the day after Christmas that law officers appeared at our door with an arrest warrant for the Diva. They took her downtown for her arraignment before the judge. Superman followed a few minutes later, as the cops told us she'd see the judge and be done in a few minutes. Each of the two offenses carries a fine of $1092 or 30 days in jail. For each offense. There is a chance for her to participate in the pretrial intervention program for first time offenders, but that costs $350, of which we won't pay any. Not for her. And she doesn't have the money. She has to apply for pretrial intervention before her court date, which is this Tuesday the 27th.  And now she lives an hour or so away.

Diva says her birth father won't let her go to jail, and will come up with the $350 for pretrial intervention. They'll have to do that on Monday if it's to work. At any rate, she needs to be in the Greenwood County court house at 8:30 Tuesday morning or she's in contempt of court (or whatever that charge is). I've washed my hands of the whole affair, except for the part where I'm following closely to see what happens. Of course if she isn't there and hasn't applied for pretrial intervention, she'll be arrested again. She just doesn't seem to comprehend that she can't do whatever she wants with no consequences. It makes me sad, but mostly I'm sad because I'm not as upset as perhaps I should be. She has dumped so much shit on us for so long, that she's used up all my give-a-fucks.

Right now I am focused on my health. I am so grateful that neither of our youngest children is here to mess with my head and distract me from this priority.

Stuff keeps happening

It's been busy around here. Lots of drama. I should have posted earlier, but damn, I've been kinda overwhelmed.

Let's start with Sproing, because his drama just culminated today. I'll start from the end; today he went before the family court judge (where Dept. of Juvenile Justice cases are heard) for a probation violation hearing and was sentenced to further probation until he is 18 years old (January of 2016) and remanded to kiddie jail. He will be at the evaluation center/holding tank until a bed opens in an alternate placement. There are many of them around the state. Some are wilderness camp-type places, some with more of a military philosophy, and I'm not sure what all else. He will be at the eventual placement until he meets that facility's requirements for completion. As I understand it, each program has a certain level of accomplishment, like a number of points or something, that he has to reach to be considered acceptable for release. You know, until he has rehabilitated himself. Or something.

The kid has been incorrigible for months. He is failing all of his classes, refuses to cooperate or do any classwork in his English class and I guess is just lazy in his other classes. He actively despises his English teacher. She expects him to participate in class and do his work, heaven forbid. He has been suspended 14 days in the first nine weeks, so even in the couple of classes he was (barely) passing he has now fallen so far behind that it's overwhelming trying to catch up.

Sproing argues with us almost constantly. "What you fail to understand..." is his opening statement. We don't understand anything, evidently. He has responsibilities and obligations that he isn't meeting, but it's never his fault.

About three weeks ago Superman was out of the country on a business trip. The Tuesday he was gone Sproing and Diva got into an argument that turned violent. He hit her a few times, she threw half of our living room at him, piece at a time. Threw a side table at him, breaking the table and traumatizing the poor dog. She grabbed full drawers out of a plastic case thingie that had some of my craft supplies in it, and hurled the drawers at him, still full of stuff. There was craft detritus strewn all across the living room. I tried as much as possible to stay out of their way, as I had no desire to get hit. I told them to go to their rooms and calm down, which advice was of course ignored. I was in my room and Diva came in, hysterical. She locked the door behind her and Sproing banged on it, demanding to be let in. He's in a rage. You think we want him in here? Hell no! But he kicked the door in. So now not only are their bedroom doors broken and nearly ruined, mine is damaged too. The little fuckers.

There is a little bit more I want to say about Sproing's anger and argumentative spirit, but I'll go into Diva's drama first because his relates to hers.

Diva successfully contacted her birth mother. Through Facebork. A couple of months ago she found her mother's Facebork page and sent a friend request. Her mother, Janice, evidently doesn't check Facebork very often and only saw the friend request a couple of weeks ago, at which point she accepted Diva's request and was thrilled to be back in touch. The feeling was mutual. Janice has seven children, Diva being her second. Janice also has a double fist full of siblings, correspondingly large numbers of cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. Everyone was super excited about finding Diva. The first day they connected, one of Janice's sisters drove down here (an hour+ drive) that evening. The next day Janice came down with all of her younger children to see Diva. Was it that weekend or the next, I don't remember exactly, that Diva went to spend the weekend with her birth family? She's spent every weekend since with them. Last weekend she met her birth father for the first time. I overheard her talking to her father on the phone last night. She called him "Daddy" and she calls Janice "Mom." Interesting, in that she calls me and Superman "Mom" and "Dad" respectively. Sounds confusing.

Anyway, lots of big drama. Janice's family is kinda ... high maintenance from a drama drama drama standpoint. And it turns out that one of the assistant principals at Diva's high school is distantly related to her. She (the principal) was married to Diva's uncle once upon a time. I've had a couple of good discussions with said principal, and she tells me to be careful when engaging with that family. Drama, drama, drama. So far, and it's been maybe three weeks, things seem to be OK.

I am genuinely happy for Diva that she has connected with her birth family. This is something she's wanted for a very long time. I'm happy for Janice, too, because she eventually regretted placing Diva for adoption. It was the only choice she could see at the time, and did it in part (as I understand it) to prevent children's services from taking custody of her two children. So she gave Diva a good home (theoretically) and was able to parent her older son. Then she had five more children (two more girls and three boys) to make up for? replace? the one she'd released for adoption. I don't know. The whole thing is much more complicated than that, but I suspect that's one element.

As I said, things are going well so far. It's the honeymoon period, and Diva does honeymoons very well. I think Janice hasn't told her "no" about anything significant yet, or hasn't made any demands of her that Diva doesn't agree with. When that happens, oh boy, watch out. It'll get dramatic, I suspect. The first weekend Diva was with them, they bought her quite a few clothes and pairs of shoes. So Diva thinks they're heaven sent. Last weekend her birth-daddy gave her a cell phone. (We gave her a phone a couple of years ago and she immediately started sexting with much older guys, ranging in age from late teens to early 30s. Nekkid pictures were traded, meetings were set up. We took her phone away. After a few months we tried again, and the same thing happened. Repeat. So she doesn't have a phone from us anymore.) Right now they are spoiling her. This is the set-up. Soon they will expect things from her, things she isn't willing to do or provide. That's how I see this mess working out.

If you've read this blog for any time at all, you are aware of Diva's explosive disposition. She comes by her demeanor and personality honestly. The nut doesn't fall far from the tree, as the saying goes. So as, um, dramatic as she is, I expect similar behavior from the rest of her family. This has the potential to blow up. I hope it doesn't, but I'm expecting fireworks.

I don't really know how I feel about the whole reunion with the birth family. As I said, I'm happy for the girl and the family, but for myself? I'm not sure. In a way it's threatening, but at the same time something of a relief. We have had Diva for close to 16 years, through ups and downs. More recently things have been very difficult. If she wants to hang with her birth family and show them how bloody difficult she is, more power to her. Then I expect they'll blame us for her waywardness, but whatever. I'm almost past caring. The thing is, I really do care about her. I love her. I don't like her very much most days, but I always love her. I want what's best for her, and often I am not sure just what is best for her. Or for Sproing, either. He's in jail now. I hope he does well, learns important lessons from the experience, grows into the responsible young man I know he can be.

Diva reconnecting with her birth family has raised some issues with Sproing. All of a sudden he was asking about his birth family. Unfortunately we don't have much information for him. His was a closed adoption, so we don't even know his birth mom's name. We have records, court documents, etc. but her name is blanked out. I showed him what we have and he got very angry. He accused us of hiding things from him, for lying to him for 16 years. WTF? He hasn't even been curious about his birth family, hardly. Every so often he'll ask a general question, but he's never had the burning desire for contact that Diva has. I don't lie to the kids. OK, sometimes I may fudge the truth a little, or leave out a few details, but never do I tell big lies.

I understand that Sproing is angry. I think he feels neglected, left out, ignored. Or maybe he thinks we're taking advantage of him or something. I don't know, and he won't talk to me. He won't open up to me and let me know how he feels about anything. I try to start conversations with him, totally open and nonthreatening, but he immediately goes on the defensive. And he gets angry so very quickly. As I said, it's arguments every day for hours, if I keep engaging him. I tell him that we don't agree so there's nothing more to discuss, but he won't drop it then, he wants to keep yelling at me. Wears me out.

Diva will turn 17 one month from today (the 4th) (Happy election day). At that age she no longer is compelled to stay at home. If she runs away before she's 17, law enforcement can haul her back home. Once she turns 17 she's allowed by law to leave home. One month. By a show of hands, how many think she'll move in with her birth family in a month? She has been threatening/promising for months (a year or more, maybe even) to move away, in with friends once she turns 17. Now that the birth family is so eager and willing to have her as part of their lives, it's a real possibility she'll move there. Will that be a good thing? I don't know. Will she choose to do so? I don't know. To her benefit, Janice encourages Diva to finish school. Janice never did. She dropped out very early, getting pregnant at age 13 or 14. Janice wants Diva to get her high school diploma. I'm grateful for the encouragement. Janice also tells Diva to respect us as her adoptive parents. I like this. Will Diva listen? I don't know. Diva has a pretty strong opinion of us, and it isn't positive.

Diva will have to come to terms with her birth family on her own, learn about them, how to deal with them, how to not be overwhelmed by them. I don't know how long that might take, if she ever succeeds. I wish her luck.

Did She Survive the Summer?

I don't know. The verdict is still out on that one.

The kids are back in school and I am still alive, so if those are the measurements, yes I survived. But who am I now? I don't know.

I'll tell you a little bit about the kids. Sproing is already not doing well at school, and they've been in for seven days. We have a teacher conference with his English teacher tomorrow afternoon. Also he's failing math already. I don't know what it is about this boy, and I don't know what to do with him. That's what his English teacher says, too.

And now for Diva: she has contracted another STD, this time a biggie. She's got genital herpes. Or the way she says it, general harpies. You'd think she was an uneducated idiot. Maybe she is, though I've done everything in my power to enrich her life with educational opportunities and good moral teaching.

I don't know who I am. I feel like I'm about three feet tall with the strength of a four year old. No, I know too much to have the strength of a four year old. They have the benefit of ignorance (very different from idiocy) and naivety which increases their particular strength. I'm a useless mass of non-confidence. Or a non-confident mass of uselessness.

Can you smell the depression? And when I'm depressed I don't post on my blog very much. I also don't read blogs much, so I have no idea what anyone else is doing. Slugmama, bless her heart, sent me a message today (or was it yesterday?) inquiring of my situation. You can thank her for this post, such as it is.

I don't even go online much these days. Just this week I've checked my email almost every day, which is a huge jump from the once a week or so I was active last month. I had been doing the Facebork thing pretty regularly, but that tapered off sometime mid summer. I just don't care about much anymore.

The kids will be home any minute now and I want to be done here first, so this is what'cha got today.

I'm restless

but not bored!

This is the first full week of summer break for the kids. I made it to the second day before I lost it. Sproing was the instigating factor, he and all, I dunno, ten of his noisy friends who were in my living room all day playing video games in the dark. And he was R-U-D-E to me. He does that sometimes, then other times he's as nice and gentle as can be. I wish he'd be gentle and considerate all the time, but what's a wish worth? And he's 16 years old, so that ain't gonna happen anytime soon. Anyway, I had a good long cry, part of it in front of him. He's been nicer since then and I feel better, too. And on the third day, yesterday, I opened the back door and the curtain to bring natural light into the living room. He left it like that most of the day, so I'm pleased. Ish.

So, the restlessness. I think this is part of the Abilify medication. Seems I've more gumption to do stuff than I have stuff to do. And last night I woke up just before 3:00. I did some laundry, Faceborked a bit, found that thing I knew I had but didn't know where. Do you ever have a thing and there's something else that goes with it, or is necessary for it to work, but you don't seem to ever find the two things together at the same time? Yeah, that's me a lot of the time. Well, since I've been organizing some of my junk (and throwing some of it away) I actually know where some stuff is. Not everything by a long shot, but some stuff. And last night I found that thing that goes with the other thing that I cleaned up off the front porch recently.

Yesterday evening Superman and I transplanted sunflower seedlings into the small fence garden we have in the front yard. Don't know if they will survive because they were kinda young to transplant, but I'd started them in the little peat pellet things which are too small for starting sunflowers. I also have some marigolds started in the peat pellets and they're progressing just fine. Maybe one day I'll get some pics up here.

I never got back to sleep last night/today. I got dressed and went to the gym at 5:30. Last night I was thinking I wouldn't go today, but what the hell else can I do at 5 a.m.? So I spent half an hour walking a mile on the treadmill. Not much, I know, but I'm starting where I'm comfortable. I did sweat, so there's that. And the shower once I got home felt really good. Oh, and I stepped on the scale at the gym and I'm down a couple more pounds. I haven't been this low since sometime last fall, I think. Still not to the weight I achieved last summer, but I'm about five pounds from it. This feels good, except for the hunger part. And I'm not often hungry anyway. I'd love to have a bowl of cereal, but we're off grains entirely for the first two weeks. We've got about a week and a half until that bowl of cereal happens. tick tick tick tick

Diva finished her "seat time" at school yesterday at 11:00. So the meltdown I had on Tuesday didn't involve Diva at all as she wasn't even on her summer break yet. Gagh! She got out of school late yesterday morning and went directly over to her friend's house. Not Morq in Abbeville, but the girl who lives within walking distance. She spent the night there last night. Yippee!!

Late in the day Monday I realized our big freezer wasn't working. It's been acting squirrely for a few weeks, and it finally died or whatever. So Tuesday morning after dropping Diva at school I went to Lowe's and bought a freezer. A congelateur. Multilingual boxes are fun. Guy shopping is fun, too. I went into the store, picked up a 35 lb. bag of birdseed on the way to appliances. I found the freezer I wanted in about three seconds. Was looking for a smallish upright freezer. There was one small one at the end of a row of big ones. Ba-da-bing. Found the lady working the department, told her what I wanted, she did her computer thingie and ta-da. She told me to go to the checkout and give the phone number associated with our account and there it would be. So I did. As I was checking out the nice young man (cute, brunette, slender and quite strong) came up front with my freezer. I pulled the truck to the entrance there and he loaded it. By himself. Picked the thing up and put it on the tailgate. I was impressed. I got my ratcheting tie-downs around the box and secured it in the truck bed. The whole affair, from parking to driving away, lasted maybe ten minutes. Less than fifteen, anyway. I love efficient shopping like that.

Oh, I had to get some new athletic shoes for this gym thing we're doing. I despise shoe shopping. Superman went with me and I found a shoe I liked in relatively short time. It would have taken much longer if I'd gone alone. I'm glad he was with me.

I'm itching for a road trip. I want to go visit Light and see my other friend who lives there. A fabulously tall gay man who sometimes is a woman. I can relate. I'm a woman (not all that tall, not terribly fabulous) who is sometimes a man. Anyway, Nik has become a good friend. We can spend hours and hours talking. Way into the night. The night before I have to get up and drive in the freezing cold from western PA to Delaware. Hence the need for a nap Friday afternoon, to those bloggerpalooza participants. Oops, got distracted again. So I want to take a road trip back to western PA. Again. And it's time for my annual escape trip. School is out and I need to take an emotional breather to survive the rest of the summer. Thing is, though, what with buying a freezer and getting my truck fixed recently, road trip money done got spent. My truck works, but I can't afford to take it anywhere. Also it still needs the new gasket on the lifter place. And my guy says it'll cost at least $400 to do that. So here I sit. I might be able to finagle a road trip in a month or so, but I'm not sure.