I try to live a relatively low drama life. Doesn't always work out that way.

So Valentine's Day has been fraught with angst many times over my lifetime. Sometimes it's good, sometimes not. Honestly I wonder if somehow the date is cursed. Wasn't there a huge Valentine's Day Massacre in Chicago perpetrated by the mob 100 years ago? Yeah, 1929, so not quite 100 years. This year we get another massacre. There's a lot going on about that. I'm super proud of the students for speaking out, and have real hope for the first time in a while that perhaps the legislators will make significant changes. Dan Savage had an interesting proposal on his Lovecast podcast this week. Suspend all gun sales for 30 days after a mass shooting. There's more to what he said and I can't articulate it well right now and I've come to talk about a more personal Valentine's Day kerfuffle.

Twitch was born on Valentine's Day in 1991. As much as I love my son and am proud of the man he's become, I did not want to have a baby on Valentine's Day. Wasn't my choice, though, was it.

This year I was chillin' at home, enjoying the peace. I'd made some crispy rice treats for Twitch, planned to deliver them (big double batch) to the restaurant where he works to celebrate his birthday and so he could share the goodies with his coworkers. I also wanted to make nice with the crew at the restaurant. It's my favorite place in town. I've mentioned it before. Beer and brick oven pizza. Yum.

I was waiting for Twitch's shift to start, was going to deliver the goodies around 5. At 4:30 I got a call from, of all places, Turbeville, SC, from the prison where Sproing has been incarcerated. This woman was calling to tell me that Sproing was being released. Today. Right now. Can I come pick him up?

Immediate anxiety "episode". I hesitate to call it an attack, because I can still breathe, my heart rate only elevates a little bit. I dunno. I wasn't comfortable. Shit.

First thing I told her was "Do you know where I live?" I assume she looks at her paperwork there, says Greenwood. Yep. Do you know how far away Greenwood is from Turbeville? No, I can't drive all that way right now. She says we can meet in Columbia, which is a good halfway distance from both locations. Well shit. I do NOT WANT TO DO THIS!

We agreed on a location in Columbia to meet. I got off the phone and pitched a fit. Lots of cussing. Lots of I don't want to do this. But it needs to be done, and I do what needs to be done. Adulting sucks sometimes. So after giving myself a pep-talk I took the treats to Twitch, told him I had to get his brother, and went to get his brother.

I won't bore you with the details. They're tedious anyway. After a few calls back and forth on the cell phone of his driver, we met at the agreed location. It was easy. He got out of the other car, said goodbye, got into my car, and OH SHIT SPROING  IS HERE, GOING HOME WITH ME, SHIT I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS. Breathe. Breathe. I breathed a lot last Wednesday.

This came totally out of the blue. I thought he would be in prison for another year, year and a half. Surprise!

Shit. So he's home. It's gone well so far, but he's still on his best behavior. He needs to get the FUCK out of my house. I keep dropping hints. hee hee.

But I'm not home right now. I'm at the most bestest coffee shop in all of western Pennsylvania. I'm visiting Light in Indiana, PA. Indianapa. She's getting married in less than two months, and I have the sample dress for her to try on. Did I mention I'm making her wedding dress? Well, trying to, anyway. It's light lavender satin with a white lace overlay. I've not sewn these fabrics before. I got a length of satin and some lace with which to practice. I got most of the dress constructed before I left home, but there's a little bit left to do. It's been a royal pain in the ass, especially the lace overlay.

I need to go do other things right now, and I'm pretty sure the time on my parking meter has expired. Perhaps I'll post again soon, maybe with photos of the sample practice dress.

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.

End of year updates and random other stuff

Here's something really nifty that I found on YouTube.


(If that doesn't play, check it out here.)

The mid December turkey dinner was a success. We used the fancy china. Twitch and a friend came, and also another couple, C&A, friends of ours, who are about a decade older than we are. After dinner we played Cards Against Humanity and it was hilarious! I have told C about CAH but she hadn't had a chance to play. Oh, we had fun! C's husband, A, is in the early to mid stage of Alzheimer's: still looks mostly functional but conversation can get a bit odd. He played with us but didn't really understand what was going on. When it was his turn to choose the best answer card he was pretty random about it, but that's OK. It worked. And he felt included, which is important. He's such a sweet fellow.

Christmas was a quiet affair. Twitch came over for gifts. I bought three pairs of jeans for Superman because his midsection has expanded a bit since he last bought jeans. Oops. I'm tired of seeing him in sweatpants all the time. For Twitch I got a handful of smaller possibly useful things, a couple of things he'd mentioned he wanted over the past year. An 18 inch steel straight edge ruler, a flexible whisk (those things are awesome!).

If you don't have one and cook often enough, you should get one. They are particularly good for mixing eggs and for stirring sauces. 

Did I get distracted again? I was telling you about Christmas. Nobody got me anything to open on Christmas Day, but I'm OK with that. Superman bought me a fancy new KitchenAid stand mixer plus a couple of attachments which I got a couple of weeks before Christmas. It's aqua blue and SO pretty!! Works great, too. 

Christmas dinner was lasagna and garlic bread. We  made two; one with Italian sausage for the guys and one without meat for me. Both included spinach. Quite yummy. More pumpkin pie for dessert because I love my pumpkin pie. Had considered making a lemon meringue, one of Twitch's favorites, but he seemed to like the pumpkin well enough. 

Superman has been off work since the Wednesday before Christmas. It's wonderful! I (mostly) love having him around. He goes back to work on the 3rd day of 2018. (Trying to practice writing/typing the new year) His Christmas break project is a cabinet for my sewing/craft supplies. I'll need at least 2. He's got a lot done on the first one and so far it looks fabulous! I need to take some pictures. 

I bought myself a journal notebook. Two, actually, because I couldn't decide which one to choose. The spiral bound one, 6 by 8.5 inches, has three sections: 160 pages each of lined paper, grid/graph paper, and blank paper. I get so excited about new office supplies!!  The cover is plastic, pink and white horizontal stripes, and says "Express Yourself". You betcha I will! 

The other is a faux leather bound - oh, it says "Leatherette Journal" on the wrapping. Ruled paper, with date options at the top of each page. By "date options" I mean it has the numbers 1-31 across the top, and Jan, Feb, Mar, Apr, ... Dec below the numbers. My plan with this journal is to make a 5 year journal kinda like this but more personalized. It's 7.5 by 10 inches, big enough theoretically to use for 10 years. For me, though, five is probably more realistic. Parsimony isn't my strength. Some of the specific five year journals say One Line a Day. Like I can write about a day in one short sentence. Most days, nope. Anyhow, the leatherette cover is debossed (opposite of embossed*) with the phrase "The Best Way to Predict the Future Is to Create It". I think that's a pretty good phrase for a journal that has five years of potential future. 

And speaking of office supplies, we got ourselves a new printer. Finally! We'd had the other one for probably 10 years. It doesn't like to print the first few letters of each line in the first paragraph (or comparable area of graphics). It had been wireless, but didn't know how to talk to these contemporary computers. The new one does, though. Fancy thing, all-in-one print, scan, fax (if I had a land line to link it to, which I don't), and something else. Craziest of all, the printer HAS ITS OWN EMAIL ADDRESS!! I'm blown away by this modern technology. 

That's all I can think to say right now. I need to go bake a cherry pie. My friend C brought a pie to our mid December dinner, so I'm going to return the pie pan with a cherry pie in it. :-)

*I thought the opposite of emboss was etch. But Dictionary.com doesn't agree. Also, etching might be slightly different. This thing is kinda like stamped. 

Christmas Day 2016

Merry Christmas!
We're having a modest Christmas. We bought one or two things to give to each of the sons and the gay pseudo-son, and Twitch gave us a marble mortar and pestle. I had amazon.com send a thing to Light and her boyfriend, and to my Mama. And that's it for Christmas. We finished a delicious early afternoon feast, most of which Superman cooked. Ain't he wonderful? I made the sweet potato casserole and pumpkin and pecan pies, and he made everything else.

I have this wonderful cookbook on my Kindle, An Unexpected Cookbook: The Unofficial Book of Hobbit Cookery.* I bought it about this time last year but hadn't yet made any of the recipes. Well, I chose a few to make side dishes for our Christmas feast. We had braised carrots, rosemary skillet peas, and the most wonderful savory bread pudding! Savory bread pudding is pretty much the same thing as dressing (or stuffing if you prefer) but this recipe has ingredients I've never used in dressing. It was the hit of the day, if you disregard the turkey and the pies. Really, all of it was delicious.

Superman has had a marble mortar and pestle for years, but the pestle broke a few years ago. It's hard to use that pestle when it's only half as long as it should be. One's fingers are in danger of being mashed against the side of the mortar. So Twitch gave him a new one. And there was much rejoicing.

The gingerbread house is on hold until after Christmas. I'll probably start playing with it again tomorrow. I made a few of the pieces but the big one fell apart when I tried to take it off the cookie sheet. Then I looked in my old recipe book and realized the recipe I printed off from my computer files is the wrong one! This cookie is actually easier to eat, softer and more fragile. The other recipe makes a very hard cookie which is superior for construction. So bully for me, I'm going to use that tomorrow. I'll post a picture when it's finished. My new goal is to have it finished by New Years Day.

*This book can be had from amazon.com in Kindle edition for $5.99 as of this writing. It's also available in hardcover, but I suspect it's out of print, since the hardcover edition sells for $139.96.

Casting into the void --- is anyone there?

So I've been contemplating my worth recently.

I am undergoing therapy for a sexual assault that happened when I was in my early teens. I'm 54, almost 55. My therapist sees a lot of young children, too, and that breaks my heart. She says the little kids take to therapy much better than most adults. They're resilient and believe what they're told. She tells them the sexual assault is not their fault, and they just believe it. She tells me my experiences are not my fault and it's ... it doesn't make sense that I don't have some culpability in the scenario.

Winter is approaching. Summer is over. I'm thankful for that. As has been mentioned in this space previously (a lot) I don't fare well in the heat. It's cold enough to need a fire in the wood stove. I'm back in my bedroom with the door closed, so it's a good bit cooler here than in the living room. I'm comfortable in a short sleeve dress. Ahhh.

My sleep quality is poor these days because my obstructive sleep apnea has gotten worse. I had a sleep study last month that determined I need increased pressure on my CPAP machine. The doctor gave me a prescription for a new CPAP with the increased setting. The supplier has all the necessary information. Then they told me it'll be 3-5 weeks before I get my fucking CPAP. Bastids. I'm snoring through my current CPAP, having apnea episodes, waking up with a sore throat from snoring so hard, and I'm tired all the time. Speaking of which, it's almost time for a nap. I love naps.

A couple of years ago I lost a good bit of weight, around 60 pounds. Well, I've gained most of it back. I should get back to the gym. I need a new gym membership, though. I'm strongly considering the local YMCA. I looked into it a few months ago and found that membership fees for people over 55 are discounted. Since I'll be 55 in January I figure I'll wait until then. I also had the bright idea to do some yoga in the meantime, to get limber and possibly strengthen my core, or whatever. I visited the yoga studio, got the business card of the woman I need to talk to. But alas, I haven't taken it any further. Yet. Maybe after Thanksgiving.

I'm very good at procrastinating. It's one of my greatest talents. (Note that it's been nearly six months since my last post. I occasionally think of posting, then something else happens.)

Sproing was in the county jail for 5 blissfully drama-free months. It was a bogus arrest, though, and he didn't deserve to be there. He was there awaiting trial for a piddly little charge, and didn't get a court date for a ridiculously long time. He was charged with auto break-in and petty theft. He allegedly opened an unlocked car and took some loose change from the ashtray. Why anyone would leave their car unlocked in that neighborhood I do not know. (It's "the projects") The only thing they had on him was the testimony of one of his hoodlum friends, who probably did it himself, the little punk. Sproing says he didn't do it, and I believe him. Yeah, he's a liar, but he's been pretty honest about the crimes he's committed. And really, auto break-in and petty theft and they leave him to sit and wait for five months? Geez. He didn't get a trail, either. The solicitor's office assumed guilt and offered him pre-trial intervention (PTI), which costs $350 (which he doesn't have) and 40 hours of community service. He doesn't even mind the community service. And it'll be good for him. After the completion of the PTI his record will be expunged. All very well and good, but he didn't do the crime in the first place. Shit. The criminal "justice" system is fucked up.

Superman, Twitch, and I are going to visit my in-laws for Thanksgiving. This year Thanksgiving happens to fall on my father-in-law's birthday, so his kids have decided to make the whole thing into a birthday party instead. I mean, it'll be Thanksgiving with the whole feast thing, we'll just call it Grand Dad's birthday. It's cool. BUT, it's the in-laws. They are ... well, they have social and political and religious views that are different from mine. They also disapprove of cussing. I'm fucked. (Actually, last time I visited I managed to go three days without cussing in their presence once!!) My m-i-l voted for Trump. F-i-l voted third party. To their credit, neither of them likes Trump, but they preferred him to Hillary. I'm hoping for no political discussion. They have a lovely screened back porch to which I can escape if the discussion gets too uncomfortable.

And speaking of complicated discussions, they want to hear all about Light's new boyfriend. Yes, Light has a boyfriend. Superman and I visited them in late October. He's a wonderful fellow, about three years younger than Light's 27 years, will graduate from IUP next month with a dual degree in English and religious studies. That's what the in-laws will like. That he's from western Pennsylvania, not a plus to these southern rebels. Grand Dad dreads that his great-grandchildren will be Yankees. Yes. Really.

Here's the rest of the story. The religious study the bf concentrated on is Buddhism. Not protestant Christianity which is the only acceptable option in their opinion. We won't tell them that. The "boy" part of boyfriend is his gender identity which doesn't correspond to his DNA or body morphology. No unplanned pregnancies in this monogamous relationship! So no Yankee grandchildren unless they do the sperm donor thing. Which Light is considering. I'm thrilled that she's in love with a wonderful young transgender man. There's a lot we won't be telling the grandparents.

There's a cat sleeping on my arms, making it difficult to type. The whole nap idea seems more and more appealing.

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!

The continuing saga

My Braves haven't been playing so well recently. I had to turn the game off in the seventh inning last night because it got too pathetic. It's the top of the first inning and their opponents (Cincinnati Reds tonight) just scored two runs. I know my boys can do better than this. But enough about baseball.

I had some COFFEE this Afternoon!! With CAFFEINE! WEEEEEEEEE!!!

Twitch has been transferred to the store in Simpsonville (Arby's). It's an hour away. He has no car, no drivers license. He's got the learners permit, and has been driving Superman's truck with me in the shotgun position. I actually enjoy the drive, or have come to feel that way about it this week. I like it better when I drive. He's not too bad at driving, but he's new and nervous, and I like being behind the wheel when I'm in the car, you know? Today we took my truck, which is a piece of shit with a manual transmission which Twitch doesn't know how to drive. I like my truck better. The thing is, it takes an hour one way to get to Simpsonville and uses a bunch of gas. I drive back home, only to go back to get him six to eight hours later. That's a LOT of gas. Which costs a lot of money. He's helping with the expense, but not as much as all of it. I'm trying to get him to save so he can secure housing in that area. I've spent four hours on the road every day this week. I have mixed feelings about this.

The poor guy (Twitch) had to work ten hours today. I got there an hour before he got off, not realizing he would work that late. It all worked out well, though, because I'm easy that way. I needed some new shoes anyway and hadn't yet found a chance to shop. There's a shoe store half a mile up the road from Twitch's shop, so I wandered up there and had my favorite kind of shoe shopping experience. This is a representation of what I bought.

(One beer down) I asked the nice sales associate lady for those old fashion ugly Crocs. She said they only had that style in mens, which is fine by me. She showed me what they had, three different colors/styles. The camo print was an easy elimination. The other shoe was brown with a leather (or leather look) patch on the top of the upper. It was $15 more than the black ones. Though they had the brown in a size 7 (my size in mens shoes) and the smallest size black was an 8. I tried them both on, and went with the 8. Crocs are supposed to be kinda loose anyway, right? And it has that strap thing on the back that helps keep the shoe on. So it's all good. I told the friendly sales lady that ugly and old fashioned was kinda my style. You know, I'm so fashion backward. So I got a pair of shoes I like for less than $35 and took less than ten minutes to complete the entire shoe shopping experience. Yeah, that's how I like to shop. I feel good! (The caffeine and beer help. 'Bout to start on my second beer, so watch out!) 

After the wonderful shoe shopping experience I stopped by Starbucks. I don't think I've been inside a Starbucks in at least two years. I got myself a short "tall" black coffee, then went back to the Arby's where I bought the last chocolate turnover. Man, those Arby's folks have the best turnovers, and the chocolate is extraordinary. Been wanting one of those for a while now. 

Oh, and in other news, the weight loss thing isn't going so well. For example, there's an IHOP beside the Arby's. Twitch has had to be at work at 8:00 every morning this week, but Arby's isn't open for breakfast. Leaving home before 7:00 hasn't given me the opportunity to eat before leaving. So twice this week I had the Bananas Foster Brioche French Toast at IHOP. Oh boy.

I mean look at that. Who could resist? Who knew warm bananas could taste so good? 

I recommend them if you aren't trying to control your BMI. So good! I got myself a bowl of cereal before leaving this morning, so was able to forego the cost and calories of that particular temptation today. Then I had a chocolate turnover this afternoon. In my defense (which isn't a good defense, by the way) I had a V-8 for lunch. *sigh*

Half way through the second beer. Feelin' good! I haven't been drinking much recently, like less than a beer a day. Maybe two or three beers a week. So two beers has a bigger impact. Oh, further along on that beer than I thought: just finished it. Weeee! And now I don't even care that the Braves are playing like shit. My tongue is going numb. Nice buzz.

Superman is on his way home from work. Yes, it's 8:40 on a Friday night. He's been working a lot of long hours recently. The plant just had a power surge and he lost the PowerPoint he'd been working on for over an hour, so he's chucking the whole thing and coming home. I suspect he'll have to spend a couple (or more) hours at work tomorrow.

What else? I suppose I could update the Sproing drama. Yesterday was hell. Did I mention in my last post that he'd been before the judge on the ... wait a minute. Let me check the last post and see if you are up to date with his latest criminal activity. (insert Jeopardy "wait" music)  Nope. That last post was written before his latest criminal activity. Last weekend he stole Superman's debit card, took it to Wal-Mart and spent approximately $150. When this breach of trust was discovered, we called the police. Because DAMN! We live in the city, Wal-Mart is in the county outside city limits. So to make life more difficult (because damn) the offense has been divided between city police and county sheriff's departments. The theft of the card is a police matter, the use of it is sheriff's domain. He's had his arraignment with the city. We're waiting on the sheriff's warrant, when we'll have to see a different judge because fuck my life. The municipal judge considered putting Sproing in jail, but released him on a personal recognizance bond of $5000, with restrictions. The judge, bless his heart, wrote his direct phone number on our copy of the paperwork.  If the boy gives me any grief I can call the judge and he'll revoke Sproing's bond, sending him to jail until his June 5th court date.

Well, yesterday Sproing was being an ass, at which he has a special gift. I asked him to fold and put away the load of towels in the dryer. Oh. My. God. You'd have thought I asked him to donate a kidney. After the judge had a serious talk with him about doing the right thing and respecting his Mama. And it got worse from there. I finally told him that I was done, and would call the judge tomorrow. (Which was today, for the record) He kinda freaked. (What the fuck. What does he expect?) Then he (Sproing) asked to talk to the sheriff's detective who questioned him about the charge, a guy who used to be the resource officer at the high school. Evidently Sproing feels comfortable with the man. So I called the sheriff's department (at 9:00 in the evening) and asked for the detective to call me. Which he did. I'm impressed. He talked to Sproing, calmed him down. After the conversation Sproing was way more copacetic. He apologized and everything. So I had pity on him and didn't call the judge today. So far today he's been calm, but I've hardly interacted with him at all. He got home from school right before I left to pick up Twitch. When I got back I went to the beer and baseball, and Sproing is doing his thing away from my presence. So far so good. Tomorrow is Saturday and we'll probably have more opportunity to interact. Oh please oh please oh please let it be peaceful!

Sproing got the warrant from the city, which is what sent us to the municipal judge. He hasn't yet gotten the warrant from the county, though. Once he does, we'll have to go to another judge to repeat the process. I don't know how that'll work out.

Oh, and of course all this shit violates his probation with Juvenile Justice. I talked to his probation officer. She said she'd wait to see what the city and county do with him before taking any action. She thinks it'll work itself out without her having to interfere. You see, since he's 17 years old now, he's treated as an adult when he fucks up like this. DJJ is a secondary concern. Damn, I hate this. Sproing can be such a nifty guy. But he can also be a pain in the ass. As you have probably realized by now.

HA!! Braves won!! Finally. Maybe this portends good fortune for this weekend. In my life, not just for the Atlanta Braves. That'd be nice.

Today I've been in a good mood. Last night I felt like wringing Sproing's neck. Today I spent pretty much all day without Sproing, and got to drive my truck, which always makes me happy. I had a lovely almost three hour nap this morning when I got back from Simpsonville, finished my sappy gay romance novel, had a good shoe shopping experience, drank CAFFEINATED COFFee and ate chocolate yummies. And now the Braves have just won their game (yay, about damn time boys) and I've now had three beers. The buzz is strong in this one. Time to end this post, take a shower (because I'm kinda ripe) and kiss all over my husband who has finally gotten home from work. If there was anything else I meant to say in this post, well, it won't happen.

Until next time

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.

I owe all of us this post

... not least because it's been a while.

Yes, I am faring better, generally. I'm very glad this new medicine (Abilify) is helping as well as it is, because Shit Happens. Diva shit, again, with a touch of Sproing drama.

It's hard for me to talk about because I'm so sick of it all, so sick of trying to maintain something that looks like sanity when all around me are nuckin' futts.

Let's see if I can zip through this. Last weekend Diva had permission to spend one night with her friend Morq. Friday night only. She got a ride to Morq's house in Abbeville. She said she'd be back Saturday, which indicated to us that she had a way to get home. But she didn't. We didn't hear from her on Saturday, but got a brief text giving us the phone number to her new phone. When we tried to call or text the phone we got no response. She still wasn't home on Monday morning, so after I established that she wasn't at school I called the police. A very nice officer came to the house and we discussed the situation. Between the time I called 911 and him arriving, Diva called. She was mad as hell that we hadn't gone to Abbeville to get her "like you were supposed to." First I'd heard of I-was-supposed-to.

Superman took time off from work to go get her. He lectured her a bit on the way home, so they were both in a foul mood when they got here. Then Superman gave her a chore to perform as punishment (scrape the walls in her room to remove all the extra paint she's put there with her notes and stuff). She went ballistic. "I ain't touching those G++ D~~m walls."  There were a couple of "fuck yous" sprinkled throughout. Then she started throwing stuff against the walls in her room, and throwing herself against the door. She weighs over 200 lbs, and is strong, so that's a mighty force against the door. After she finally calmed down Superman went back to work.

I was hiding in my bedroom. Twitch was doing the same in his room. We both heard her when she loudly said "I'm gonna cut myself." After a bit I wandered into the living room to check. She had my favorite paring knife and was pressing the blade against her arm. Just pressing, and not very hard. She ended up making three scratches that barely broke the skin. I asked her to give me the knife and she refused. Look, y'all, I'm sick of her games, you know? I went back to my room and called 911 again. This time I got three police officers and a two man team of EMS in an ambulance. If the Bitch wants to pull her shit with me I'm gonna call her bluff. The police took her to the emergency department at the hospital. I had to follow to sign forms to allow her to be treated, which I did. Then I left to go to my doctor's appointment. I had to tell my doctor that the new drugs are working pretty well, and oh by the way here's an example of the shit I'm managing.

The hospital psychiatrist kept Diva overnight for observation and evaluation. She got sprung on Tuesday just in time for her appointment with her therapist at the local mental health clinic. Since then she's been all sweetness and light. With her it's a dark light. Shrouded, you might say.

She and I had an interesting conversation this afternoon. She's been researching ways to be independent, to emancipate from the family. I'm all for it. She also has a boyfriend (who gave her a cell phone, so you know it's serious). Today she told me he's 23 years old. You know, I don't care. And I told her that as long as he treats her well I don't have a problem with him being that old. She says they've been talking about rings. What does that mean when she says it? I have no idea. But I volunteered the information that if she gets married she's automatically emancipated. She was shocked, thought I was fooling with her. Nope, it's the truth. Man oh man, wouldn't that be the thing, though? Get her married and out of here. She's 16, will be 17 in early December. Probably time for her to marry. Yep, I like that idea.

This afternoon I got a call from the assistant principal at the high school. Sproing has been suspended for two days. There's only six more full days and two half days until school is out. He's missing the two days before the end of course exams, which if he fails he fails the course. And they'll be doing review for the exams in those two days. It looks like he'll see 10th grade again next year. So will she, if things stay as they are with her grades and attendance records. Whatever. At 17 she's gone, her decision. I don't know about Sproing, though, whether he'll try to bolt at 17 or will wait another year. I haven't decided if I care.

Diva got her Depo shot yesterday - birth control that lasts three months. About six weeks ago she went in for the shot but told the doctor she wanted to take bc pills instead of getting the shot. I said as long as she takes the pills daily as she's supposed to, fine. But she didn't. So she's back on the shot (Phew!). They also ran some tests and she came up positive for chlamydia again. So another big dose of super powerful antibiotics for her. Her gonorrhea test was negative though, so that's good.

Let's change the subject. I'm doing all kinds of projects and shit now. I am in the middle of sewing a piratey shirt. You know, it's a piratey thing.

I finished a unique interpretation of a shirt pattern. I like it. Have I made a new skirt? No, but I need to. There are a few Simplicity patterns I want, dress and/or skirt patterns. Next week Simplicity patterns go on sale at the local Hancock fabric store. $1.99 per. I'm thrilled. :)

Speaking of Hancock fabrics, the local store is accepting applications. I've considered working there for years, and with my Abilify (or whatever is responsible for this new sense of purpose) I think I want to do it now. Superman says I should go for it because it would be good for me. Twitch told me I should so I could get out of the house because I hate it here. Boy, he's got my number, doesn't he? I thought about going over there to fill out the application today, but have decided to sleep on it another day and perhaps go tomorrow. Because I'm scared?? Maybe. I also think it'd be a good idea to sleep on it one more night. And there's a good sale on tomorrow. :-)

Enough for now. There are pictures in my phone that I want to share, but not this time.

Spring Break!

See that exclamation mark in the title? I don't really mean it.

I have the depression monster sitting on my head today. Eh, whatever. I'm used to it. I don't even want to be not depressed, necessarily. I know how to do this depression thing. It's comfortable. Sort of. And everything around me (except Superman) triggers my depression. So I might as well embrace it.

So, Spring Break. Easter, as you probably know, was this past Sunday. We didn't do a thing toward celebrating it. Why bother? I don't believe in so much of what the Christian churches teach, so whatever. I did, however, buy myself a small chocolate bunny on clearance at the grocery store on Monday. So yay, happy Easter.

Being Easter and all, the schools are out. No school last Friday, and no school all this week. You know what that means. Kids here all day. Or in and out all day, with me concerned about what kind of trouble they're getting into if they aren't here. Sort of. Mostly, I'm trying not to care what they do. The depression is helping with the Not Caring thing. Spring Break also signals the impending school summer break, which lasts a painfully long time. Only about five weeks now until school's out for almost three months. Plus, it's hot here. Or it will be then. Actually right now the temps are not too bad. Warm, but not terrible.

The pollen is pretty bad, but if I stay inside I'm OK. I don't want to get out of the house anyway. Unfortunately there are things I must do. My allergies are better than they were a couple of weeks ago, so that's good. And we've had a fair amount of rain which helps wash the pollen out of the air.

A couple of things about Diva:
First the good news. Yes! There is good news! Last week was the 31st anniversary of our wedding. Superman and I eloped in March of '83 a month before the planned wedding. Then we did the public wedding thing to make our parents happy in April. We usually celebrate the March date, but Diva got wind of the April anniversary and made dinner for us. It was really sweet. She made a small cake with fruit compote topping, broiled some whitefish and dished up some carrots and applesauce for us. It was quite nice of her and I thanked her and hugged her and everything. Also, she makes really good cakes. I suspect her daddy helped with the fish. It was cooked just right. All in all a good evening. So score 1 for Diva.

Yesterday she had her intake interview with Department of Juvenile Justice (DJJ). That fight she had at school in January resulted in a criminal charge of public disturbance or something. I can't remember exactly what the charge is. So DJJ needs demographic information and assorted other crap for their files. So we did that. She was surly. I survived.

In the process of the interview she mentioned that she was still upset about an incident of molestation she experienced last year. I may have mentioned it then. It happened March a year ago. Superman and I were of course concerned about the molestation and have done what we can to help her. She's been to the local sexual abuse counseling place for some services (forensic interview, physical exam, STD testing) but refused any counseling at the time and when offered since then. Until yesterday. She told the DJJ agent when he asked that yes, she does need to talk to someone about the trauma. OK, backing up a week or two, she came to me all in a dither one Saturday recently. She'd been in serious trouble for some now-forgotten offense and was undoubtedly grounded. She started out crying about some other wrong that had been done unto her, then segued into this lament about how traumatized she is by the molestation incident.

I do not mean to minimize the impact of her being molested. It was an invasion of her very being. She was spending the night with a friend, and the ex-boyfriend of the girl's mother came into the room where they were sleeping and fondled her. She told the friend's mother the next morning, mother called the police, Diva was taken to the hospital for whatever it is they do in those cases. We followed up with the police detective who was on the case, with the sexual trauma center, and everything else we were supposed to do. We were sympathetic and concerned about her, as much as I can be sympathetic to her in light of all the abuse she has heaped on me. I really do care.

Anyway, that recent Saturday she complained bitterly that I hadn't done anything, or didn't care, or something about how upset she still is because of the sexual abuse. Just a few days prior to this someone from the sexual trauma center called to check up on Diva, see how she was doing. I was sitting with Diva at the time, and asked her, told her who was on the phone, etc. She said she was fine. So here it is Saturday and she tells me she has flashbacks, can't sleep at night, is afraid this guy is peeking in her window every night. This is all news to me. She hasn't said one word about it for months and months. I asked if she'd like to talk to someone to help her deal with her feelings and she said yes. So the following Monday I called the sexual trauma center to set up an appointment for her. The woman I needed to talk to was at lunch, I left a message, she never got back to me. I didn't follow through. Then this week Diva tells the DJJ agent that she needs to talk to someone about the abuse. I told him what I'd done and that I hadn't followed up, he told me to follow up. Yes sir, I certainly will.

I think it's impossible for me to be brief in telling a story. Sorry about that, y'all.

After we left the DJJ office in the courthouse downtown I drove directly (through the pollen) to the sexual trauma center, a mile or so south of downtown. I figured that showing up at this place, since I was already out anyway, was easier than me remembering to call back. Well, now Diva refuses to get out of the truck to come in and talk to someone. I went in, explained the situation, and after a few minutes a very nice young woman came out, willing to talk to Diva. Also, see, Diva is in regular counseling with a therapist at the local Dept. of Mental Health office. Has been for years. I mentioned this to the nice young woman who said it would be best for Diva to discuss these things with the therapist with whom she already has a good working relationship. I said "Makes sense to me. Don't know why she hasn't." But Nice Young Woman was willing to talk to Diva if she'd come in. So I went back out to the truck and Diva still refused to budge. So I went back in, thanked the Nice Young Woman, and took Diva home. Because shit. You know?

And I strongly suspect Diva is just jerking my chain. She's being manipulative. Perhaps she is traumatized by the molestation, I don't know, but I really think she throws it in my face to distract me from her other misdeeds. I have done what I can for her. I'm willing to get her the help she needs to the best of  my knowledge and ability. She, in typical Diva style, refuses to cooperate with me.

When I got home I called her therapist at the dept. of mental health, told her about the events of the day. I asked if she and Diva had worked through any of this sexual abuse trauma Diva claims to suffer. Therapist didn't remember Diva having been abused. I thought we'd told her, was sure we had, and she said, "Yes, I vaguely remember now." Therapist said she worked for four years at the sexual trauma center before taking the position she has now with Mental Health. I laughed. Because, of course. Nice Young Woman told me that Therapist was trained in exactly the same kind of therapy they use at the trauma center, and would do exactly the same thing they'd do there.

Diva has an appointment to see her Mental Health therapist next Tuesday. We shall see what we shall see.

Oh, back to the whole Spring Break and everyone's home thing. Diva Darling posted a threatening video on Facebork attacking the same girl she fought with last January. (This is related, trust me.) The police are involved with that, too. I got a call, again, from the assistant principal. We've come to know each other well this year. Gosh, that happened over a week ago I think. It took a while for consequences to hit because the Individual Education Plan (IEP) team had to meet to determine if Diva's behavior in this case is due to her clinical diagnoses before the assistant principal could hand down the punishment. We, the IEP team, decided that, no, Diva's threatening video was not related to her clinical diagnoses. Therefore Diva gets suspended for four days. Remember I said the kids were out on Friday? We had this IEP meeting last Wednesday, so Thursday was Diva's first day of suspension. The following three days of suspension occur Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of next week when school in once again in session. Fuck My Life. She gets an extra long Spring Break. She did the same thing before Christmas, got I can't remember how many days suspension just before the Christmas break to make it an extra long vacation for her. I feel so fucked over. To add insult to injury (if that's what this is) Sproing got suspended for three days the week before last, and he was at home last Monday and Tuesday, back in school Wednesday and Thursday, then off again now. At least he goes back to school next Monday.

And this is a preview of our summer break. Kids home and arguing with me and each other 'round the clock. I feel stressed.

In other news, Sproing took an all-day driving class two weekends ago, and has the practical driving part of the class this week, this afternoon and tomorrow afternoon. He has already scheduled a time with the DMV to take his driving test for his license. The boy wants to DRIVE! Sounds like more opportunity to get in trouble to me, but whatever. He is a good driver. He's young and stupid, though (age 16) and I fear he will wreck the car. Superman needs to up the insurance coverage before the kid does any driving. I need to ask him about that.

All of the kids (Twitch included) need to find jobs. The kidlets for the summer and Twitch for permanent. Mostly he mopes around the house. He'll go out looking for work a couple of days a week maybe, but he spends a lot of time at home moping. Talk about depressing. He says he wants to get a job so he can move out of this house, away from his siblings. Well, then, Twitch, get off your lazy ass, get out there and WORK, dammit!!

I have no energy to confront any of them about any of this. I hide in my room reading (mostly) gay romances all day. It's light reading, doesn't require much brain work. No, this isn't healthy. Right now I don't much care. In related news, I see my therapist on Thursday. We will discuss my coping strategies and probably come to no conclusion.

Superman got himself a new computer and a new tablet recently. They're cool. I've used the tablet a few times. It's good for cruising the 'net, I suppose, but I much prefer a keyboard to write anything. His computer works so well! Turn it on and -ta da!- it's on. Mine takes about half an hour to boot up completely so I can surf the web without it freezing up on me. Most of the time. My computer is six, maybe seven years old now. Vista was the great new thing when I got it. I upgraded to Windows 7 and got myself a few more Gigs of RAM (or something) when Windows 7 came out. Now that Superman has a new computer, though, mine looks less and less appealing.

That's all I have today. Sorry most of it is so morose. And long-winded.

Here's another post

Somebody suggested that I post more often. So here's another post. What will it say? I don't know yet.
In the meantime, enjoy this post:

Yet another post

One reason I haven't posted recently is that I don't want to talk about it. It's too damned depressing. 

Yeah, I'm depressed, and it affects the way I communicate. My thoughts are disorganized and so is my communication. I don't make sense to myself, so I doubt I make sense to anyone else. 

I saw my therapist today. She knows I am depressed. She sympathises. She wants to help us get Diva into a group home or something. 

There's a group home here in Greenwood. I contacted the admissions director the other day to see about getting Diva in there. She says they have space for her, but there is of course more to the application process. I dropped off some of Diva's records yesterday - the discharge summary from the psychiatric residential facility, the latest IEP* from the school, that sort of thing. I've arrange for the school psychologist to send their psych evaluation to this place. Next step is for us to have an interview. Or for them to interview Diva, I'm not sure which. The invitation to interview depends on whether or not the paperwork I've already submitted scares the admissions director off of Diva. We shall see. My therapist knows the admissions lady and will call her to put in a good word for us/Diva. 

Superman had a heart scare Tuesday. His heart was fluttering something awful, beating really fast, he was dizzy and short of breath. I took him to the emergency department. The doctor he got is the best cardiologist in town, according to reliable sources. Superman was experiencing atrial fibrillation, which is the leading cause of stroke. FML. But, it's also very common and very easy to manage. I pretend not to worry. 

So, do you think stress might be a factor? Do you, like me, think that Diva in particular and the sons in addition are killing us? 

Diva did a bad thing last weekend. She was grounded, but convinced her daddy to allow her to exchange one day of being grounded (Friday evening to Saturday evening) for being grounded the rest of this week. We brokered a similar deal with Sproing not too long ago. So yeah, we let her spend the night/day with her friend in Abbeville (the next town west of us). The little bitch pulled the switcheroo, though. See, I knew we shouldn't trust her, but I went along with the plan anyway because what the fuck. Her daddy trusted her, though. He was to pick her up at 6:30 Saturday evening. To make a long painful story short, he didn't actually get her until 7:30 Sunday evening. She kept calling to say she wasn't at her friend's house, they were in another town visiting relatives or some such. It's all lies anyway, so whatever. The thing is that he trusted her and she broke his trust. Again. And this was the last straw. He is heartbroken, really. 

I had a little talk with her this afternoon. I explained that she did herself in this time, that her daddy who has always had her back, who has always given her the benefit of the doubt, is now finished with her. 

Superman was in a state Sunday evening, and since then, too. He is in mourning for the little girl he wishes he had. You probably know I gave up on her (mostly) a long time ago. It hurts to see how much she has hurt him. 

There's more, too. More that involves her screaming and cussing at us for an hour right after Superman got home from the hospital. She insists that she's going to move to Abbeville to live with her friend. That ain't happenin'. We're the parents, we have legal responsibility for her, etc. and we're not going to let her live with some other skanky ho to get into all kind of trouble. We will, however, let her live at this group home. At first she balked (that's a very understated way to describe her reaction) but after finding out more about the place she's more willing to consider it. I hope to all the gods available that they accept her. 

Sproing is home and nothing has changed about the way he interacts with the family. I don't know how to describe it. He's bossy, shifts blame, bitches about any task we give him (though he usually does what we ask if we leave him alone), and ignores the rules he doesn't like. He goes before the judge again on March 11th for his final ... whatever the legal term is. This is when the judge considers the results of his evaluations from the evaluation center (the kiddie jail he was in) and makes a final judgement on what to do with him. I have no idea how that will go. Frankly I haven't the emotional energy to give a fuck. I'll deal with it when it happens. 

Twitch is looking for a job. Sort of. In a very lazy half-assed way. His presence irritates me because he's being such a leech. I "encourage" him to get out there and pound the pavement, but godalmighty I'm so fucking depressed that I barely have the energy to give him a dirty look. 

Superman and I will leave here as soon as we're finished at court with Sproing on the 11th. We'll drive up to Pennsylvania to see Light. Her art exhibit is up until the third week of March and I really want to see it. So on the way to Delaware we're going to swing by Indiana, PA. Yeah, it's a round-about way to get to Delaware from South Carolina, but it involves seeing Light so it's all good. Then Thursday we'll head to Lewes, DE for the Bloggerpalooza. Oh my stars I'm so looking forward to seeing my blog buddies and being away from home! It feels like years since I did anything resembling fun. I had a blast on my road trip last summer, and that's probably the last time I had fun. Being so depressed makes it seem like I've never known fun and will never have any fun ever again. So I'm going to Delaware looking for fun. 

"They" say that being involved in charitable activities helps relieve feelings of despondency. Tomorrow (Friday) I'll spend a few hours with a sweet little old lady who is slowly dying of heart failure. It's my Friday thing for now. Until she dies. This is the third Hospice patient I've had the privilege** of visiting. She isn't quite as spunky as the last lady I sat with, but she's very nice. Her daughter (the caregiver) is nice, too. I'll take my knitting. I knat last week and she enjoyed watching me. I find that amusing, but whatever to amuse a poor dying lady, I'll do. I think I left my little scissors there. They weren't in my tote bag when I got home. 

And that's about all I know. It's pretty damned depressing. Maybe one day I'll be able to post something that has nothing to do with my children and that is pleasant. This ain't it. 

*IEP - Individual Education Plan

**"Privilege is not spelled with a "d" anywhere. Remember that, Java. Also, it truly is a great privilege to visit with these Hospice patients. 

stuff

I should really post more often. I need the therapy. Also, a lot of shit happens in my life and I need to keep up here.

Sproing was sprung from kiddie jail today. He has a scheduled appearance before the judge on March 11th, which happens to be my baby brother's birthday, to confuse you with unrelated details. Back to Sproing; he's doing pretty well. He is most definitely glad to be back home. He is showing respect for his parents, at least. Let's do the work to keep this up, Java and Superman!

I feel that I'm a neglectful parent. I really am to some extent. My excuse is that I get easily overwhelmed. Is that just a flimsy excuse or a valid reason? I'm not sure. Maybe a bit of both.

My keyboard "m" is wonky. Stingy. I try to use it and it doesn't give me the m. Sometimes. There must be tiny gremlins under the key keeping it from fully depressing. How depressing. My space bar isn't giving me space, either. Hmm. First world problems.

So I was released from the hospital today. Only stayed one day. I had some odd chest pain yesterday (Tuesday) so Superman took me to the emergency department. The EKG in the ER looked good, but they admitted me for observation and testing. I passed the tests. I had a stress test this morning and everything looked good, according to the doctor. The official diagnosis (I think) is PVC, Premature Ventricular Contraction. Because my heart otherwise looks fine, these PVCs are benign. Probably. I am currently wearing a Holter monitor, also known as an ambulatory electrocardiography device (isn't that a fun phrase!) that will check these things. I get to wear it for 24 hours (until 2:30 Thursday afternoon) and can't get it wet. No shower, in other words. Also, I didn't bathe yesterday while in hospital. I had a monitor on then, too, with sticky tabs stuck to my chest. Doesn't mix well with water. So I'm a little bit funky. My scalp bothers me the most, but I will wash my hair in the sink tomorrow (too tired tonight) and everything will be fine.

Reading the above linked website, I learned that some possible causes of PVCs are caffeine (I drink decaf coffee and not much other caffeinated stuff) and electrolyte imbalance. The doctor showed me the blood test results indicating that my magnesium level is slightly low, so that might be something. Alcohol may also be a cause, and indeed I notice the heart palpitations, or flutters, more often after I've had a couple of beers. Stress and insufficient sleep can make them worse. Well, by golly, I've got the stress thing in the bag, don't I? I talked to the day shift nurse this morning. We had a lovely chat. I told her some of the stuff going on in our household, the challenges with Sproing and Diva, etc. Her unofficial diagnosis for the cause of my chest pain is stress. She was kinda funny. "Honey, it's stress that brought you in here!" It was quite an exclamation the way she said it. Maybe you had to be there.

Anyway, I have Trigemini. That's a PVC every third beat. Not all the time, but when it's doing its PVC thing it'll go every third beat. I have actually listened to it and noticed the every third thing. I have a stethoscope and sometimes listen to my heart when it feels fluttery. This often happens at night when I lie down to sleep. The fluttering keeps me awake (how does that help?). In summation, my heart dances the waltz.

Updates on news from the last post:
Twitch needs to get his ass in gear. He's being a lazy SOB. Time for Mama to kick some lazy butt. He needs to be making money, working, getting life experience outside of my house.

Light's art show was fabulous, and it's good that her Daddy was there. She was kinda emotional before the opening reception and he helped diffuse that. He's good for her that way, probably better than I am. The show is actually up until the third week in March, and Superman and I are hoping to 'swing by' when we go to the Bloggerpalooza in Delaware next month. Yeah, western PA is not exactly on the way to Lewes, Delaware. There's a wrench in the works I discovered today. Sproing's court date is the Tuesday before the Bloggerpalooza and we hoped to arrive in Indiana, PA that day. We will see what we will see.
Here are some pictures from Light's art show.

Light herself

 Light's artwork

It's been a busy week?

I don't know anything anymore.

Diva has been doing her shorter school day for about a week now. The special-needs bus brings her home around 1:00 in the afternoon. She hangs around, watches TV, sleeps in the afternoon. I have no gumption to encourage anything else. I don't know what to do with her anyway. If we talk too much we end up fighting, so I'm trying to stay out of her way.

This is fucked up. This is not how I envisioned my life with my adopted children. Things were going to be so much better than this. There have been lots of missteps along the way. I did what I thought was right for a long time, and of course I made mistakes. But at some point a few years ago (probably five years if I had to guess) the balance tipped. I am in over my head with these kids. I don't know what to do and have no confidence to try much of anything anyway.

I read over the past few posts about Diva. I really do sound like a rotten mother. I have a bad attitude, that's for sure.

Sproing has been in jail for three weeks now. Not sure when he'll go before the judge again, but it will probably be within another three weeks. Superman and I had a good visit with him Saturday. He turned 16 a couple of weeks ago and is itching to try for his drivers' license as soon as he gets sprung from juvie. Yeah, we'll see. Really, I don't know. I think there should be an easy answer, that he definitely should (or should not) get his license yet. But I don't know and haven't the mental/emotional fortitude to figure it out. Or to stick with a plan.

And Twitch is home again. I drove down to Charleston last Thursday to get him and all his stuff. He's here. And pretending to look for a job, but not very hard in my estimation. He wants to go to Cincinnati (I don't know where that came from) to get a job, but he has no money, no prospects, nothing to go on. I told him to get a job here, make some money, do a bunch of research and job searching online and when he's got enough cash to make the move and a job to go to, then he'll be ready to go. He's been moping and mumbling around here since Friday. He helped his dad gather firewood on Sunday, that was helpful.

C moved out over the weekend. Twitch is now in the room C and his friend shared. This is the third time, if I recall, that C has lived here then moved away. This time is the worst yet. "How do you mean, Java?" Well, we had to kick him out this time. The other two times he motivated himself to go and had an apartment to go to. Now he moved in with some other friends and the situation is not ideal. It's a fairly small house with way more people than fit comfortably. Of course that could be said about this place. Also, the other residents have three dogs and there's a 5-year-old kid there at least part of the time. C doesn't deal with children well, and he has little patience for dogs (less for cats, but that's another story). C is a cook at the local Shoney's restaurant and doesn't seem to have any further dreams. He almost graduated from college but quit with two classes to go. Or maybe it was one. I don't remember. It looks to me like his life is stuck in idle and no one is at the controls. The clutch operator went out for a smoke break and hasn't returned in a while.

But he's gone from here, so hopefully that will help him kickstart his life again. He was definitely too comfortable here.

So lots of changes in the past week. In all of these things I feel a degree of guilt. Other feelings, too, but definitely guilt. Maybe it's misplaced, maybe not. Doesn't matter. It's what I'm dealing with. And not dealing well, either. On the other hand, I haven't gotten drunk since my last post. I have been eating too much, though. I feel a lot of pain right now, and I'm looking to food for some feel-good. I had a small ice cream thing a couple of hours ago and now my stomach feels unsettled. It didn't taste good enough to make me feel happy, either, so now I'm just sorry I ate it at all. Sometimes I wish I was one of those people who can't eat when they're depressed, but really it's all bad, so whatever.

In happy news (the only happy news around here at all) Light had her Master of Fine Arts oral defense this morning. She passed! And her art show is this Saturday. She says everything is set up and looks good. Superman and Twitch will drive to western Pennsylvania on Thursday to spend the weekend with her, see her show, etc. I'm disappointed that I don't get to go, but Superman hasn't been to see her in nearly two years and I've been twice since then. I'll be here with Diva. Hopefully Sproing won't get out of jail until his dad gets back next Tuesday or Wednesday. So I'm happy as hell for Light, and glad that Superman and Twitch get to see her.

Today, that's all I got.