This is gonna embarrass me so bad when I sober up

*giggle*
I've had a fuckshit day. Lots of meetings (OK, two) about Diva, with Diva. First one, we were terminated from one of the agencies that has been providing psychosocial services for us for a few years. That sucks.

Second meeting was at the high school to determine if all of her fuckups this year are due to her disability diagnosis. She has been suspended for 10 days total this year, which is some kind of limit. If the behavior that got her suspended is due to her being diagnosed crazy, which "we" determined was indeed the case (the school psychologist and her special ed teacher had this figured out before the meeting), then she can't be expelled from school. Poor little bitch. I suppose that's better, since if she was expelled she'd be home all day with jack shit to do except bother me. But the solution that was already in place before the meeting has her with an "abbreviated" day, only at school from the regular 8:30 start time until 12:45, at which time she comes home to bother me. She'll have four classes instead of her current six. Fuck my life.

Time for a new paragraph, although I forgot what I meant to say next. Hang on a sec, it'll come to me. Right, so here's what happened to push her suspensions to the limit. Last Tuesday she got into a fist fight with another girl in the bathroom at school. She actually had this fight prearranged (on Facebork) with the other bitch. (They are all bitches.) Diva's real name is Angel, the girl she fought is named Heaven (except spelled weird, with a "y" in there somewhere). True story. OK, now forget you heard her real name. Moving on - So she got in a fight, with a black eye to prove it (giggle). At lunch last Tuesday. Monday was the MLKJr. holiday so she was off that day, and the previous Wednesday was a half day because it was the end of the first semester, then Thursday and Friday were teacher inservice (non-student) days. She was home for fucking five days before going back to school only to be sent home for fighting halfway through her first day back. Fuck my life. And was home the rest of last week.

I don't do so well when she is home. It's hard for me to get anything done because her negative energy pervades the house. I end up hiding in my room. And I pretty much stay depressed and don't do anything constructive in my house. There are a lot of things I need to do in my house, cleaning and organizing and creating and culling the junk. Can't do that (because I'm crazy too) with the bitch in the house.

Also, got a call from the gynecologist about her today. She had her annual physical last week; they did an STD workup (or whatever it's called) because I told them she had been treated for Trichomoniasis and we needed to be sure the crud was gone. So today I learned from the nurse that Diva has Chlamydia. Either she's had unprotected sex (unsafe sex?) since the time she got the Trichomoniasis, or when she was diagnosed with that at the emergency room, they missed the Chlamydia. FML. I told her this afternoon that she has another STD, Chlamydia, and she shrugged her shoulders; "so what?" WTF?? I think she has no clue about how dangerous STDs can be. Or she just doesn't care.

Fuck. How am I supposed to bring her up safely if she's so damned careless with her life?

She wants to leave this town, never go back to that high school because the kids pick on her. Yeah, welcome to life, bitch. That's really not an option, but when we tell her that, she accuses us of not listening to her. No, honey, I am listening. I realize you want to leave this town, but that's not possible right now. She doesn't get it. She just yells that we don't listen. She cray-cray.

I talked to the resource officer at the school this afternoon, too. Because she got into a physical altercation with another student, the officer filed a report about it. He does that for every physical altercation. (Aren't you impressed with how well I spell "altercation" when I'm drunk? Though I am beginning to sober up some. Time for either another beer (a bad idea, really) or sleep (a good idea, especially this late when I have to get up early and take the bitch to school in the morning).) Which means she's on the Department of Juvenile Justice (DJJ) radar again. Now, it'll take a fucking year for the court system to do anything with the case, by which time she'll have forgotten the incident. (I told you before that Sproing is in juvie jail-light now, right? Over a year after the first offense that got him before the court in the first place.)

It's been a rough day. Superman, being the super man he is, took me out to our favorite beer and pizza joint. We had a really good pizza, and I had two and a half really really really good beers. Hence the drunkenness. After getting home from that last meeting at the school I was very disgusted, downhearted, depressed, despondent. (Oh, and I've been eating my feelings for the past couple of weeks, threatening the progress I've made with the weight loss.) I decided I either needed some good beer (at a good beer joint, not at home because home is where the despondence lies) or a dose of my Ativan. Beer makes me feel happy, Ativan makes me feel pretty much nothing and puts me to sleep. Superman decided beer was the better choice. Don't know if it was, but I got really happy for a few hours. Then I came home and spilled my frustration out here on the blog and now I'm mostly disgusted. But it's late and I'm going to sleep very soon and that will be OK. I'll wake in the morning and... I got distracted by Bach's Toccata and Fugue and a beautiful organ.

And now it's time to brush my teeth and go to bed.

This post brought to you by Bell's Java Stout.

Have I told you recently how much I love you?

I might be a little bit drunk. I have lost count of how many beers I've had. My head doesn't hurt yet, but it's threatening to. I might ignore it. So I think I've had 6 beers. I was going to stop after what I thought was 5, but that last one just called to me. You know?

I'm going to ramble a bit. I'm thankful for Google Chrome's automatic spell check function. If I spell a word incorrectly the word is underlined in red. How cool is that? I don't know what this looks like, I'm pretty drunk.

Had lots of beer tonight. Forget how many. Maybe 6?

Saw my therapist today. She says "Go ahead and get your master's degree already so I can hire you." Which sounds really good. I might just do that. I don't want to stay in this fucking back-assward town, but here I am anyway. FML* so I might as well do something productive. I want to get a master's degree anyway. I want to go back to school, because I am more satisfied with my life when I am in school. How cool is that?

I love you Sooooo Muuuuch!!

So I asked her (my therapist) University of Georgia in Athens? Univ. of South Carolina in Columbia? Whatever that college in Augusta is? (all of which are about the same distance from the fucking middle of nowhere, my current location)(except for Athens, which is two hours rather than one-and-a-little). She said Augusta. Should probably figure out which college that is. Maybe it's the same one where her husband teaches art. What college is in Augusta? It's Georgia, officially. In my mind, Georgia is a little bit more progressive than South Carolina. I could be wrong. But that's my impression. And if it's my impression, then it's right. Or something.

Have I told you how much I love you?

Twitch was here for a few days. I got him from Charlotte last Saturday, and took him back on Thursday. He'd been here long enough. I think he wanted to escape his siblings. Hell, I want to escape his siblings. Mother fuckers (not literally, of course).

So tonight at the skating rink darling Diva got into a fight with another girl. Evidently this animosity had been building for a while. They fought. (that's a funny word to type when drunk) The other girl (who has one of those weird black names (no offense)) jumped her first. And Sproing was so pleased with his sister! Weird. He usually despises her. Superman said that on the way home Sproing was singing this song (can't remember which one, but it's a popular one) with words he made up. Said Sproing was good at rhyming. Was singing how his sister beat up this other chick. And according to Superman, if there was a "winner" in this situation, it was Diva. And I said "You sound like you're proud of her." He admitted, yeah, he is. I rolled my eyes. There have been many FML* moments in my day.

Superman was at the rink. And it sounds as though he needs to be there all the time, no matter what condition the chirrens are in. He has to be there now because ol' Sproing is in some trouble with the law, the little shit. I don't think I told you about him (Sproing) stealing his Daddy's truck. And driving it on the busiest and craziest road in town. We called the cops on him the fucking SECOND time he did it. FML. He's under a "behavior contract" with DJJ to walk the straight and narrow. (He's straight, so that part should be easy for him. hee hee.) It isn't exactly probation, but kinda similar. One of the stipulations of his behavior contract is that he's got an 8:00 p.m. curfew. He's got to be at home and/or with his parent(s) after 8:00 every night. So if they go skating, one of us has to be there. It has been firmly established that I do not "do" skating rink. So Superman goes. One of the things that earns him the "Superman" rating.

But after tonight's fiasco, it appears that these kidlets (probably specifically Diva) need to be under parental supervision when out like that. She and the other bitch-girl fought like cats/girls. Wicked. Diva had a nasty scrape on her hand where the other bitch ripped off some skin from the back of her hand. Don't know what kind of damage Diva did to the other bitch. (In my mind, both of them are bitches in this scenario.) ("In this scenario" is one of my favorite phrases, btw.) Superman says that if anyone is counting these things, Diva "won" the fight. Whatever. And dammit, he's proud of his daughter for beating this bitch. FML*. For the record, he's also proud of his son for driving the pickup truck so well on the busy street in town. Again, FML*.

Amusingly, Sproing is also proud of his sister for beating the other bitch. (See reference above about him singing praises to her bitch-fighting ability.) Perhaps one good thing about this scenario is the positive interaction between the siblings. FML*.

Beer=good

Been pretty damned depressed recently. Hormones are partly to blame. When will this fucking menopause kick in fully??? On my period currently. FML*. Ready for the pause part of menopause, dammmmmit. But beer is good. Makes me feel happier and don't-give-a-fuck-ier. (I like that word, "don't-give-a-fuck-ier".)

I posted a picture/quote on facebork the other day, said "I like sleep. It's like death without the commitment." Yep. We've discussed previously how I feel about my own death. Bring 'er on! This life is shit. Really. I hate many aspects of my  life. Not all, of course. I love my husband, which from what I hear is a rarity these days. He's a wonderful guy. I love him sooooo muuuuuch! Even when I'm not drunk. :)

Man I'm tired! Maybe because it's 2:00 a.m. Self-destructive, much, are we? Having read over what I've written, it seems I've repeated myself. Oh well. That's what you get with a drunk post. Forewarned is forearmed. Or something.

*Fuck My Life

Internet trouble, I had it

For a couple of days last week our access to internet was denied. I think it was a technical problem. While I was unable to surf the webs I wrote a blog post. I have since then forgotten about it until now. So here it is.

But first, let me say that tomorrow, Monday August 15th, 2011 is the first day of the 2011-2012 school year. And there is much rejoicing, at least from me. Don't know if the kidlets are as excited. Don't care, either.

Everything you are about to read is out of date. I am writing this on Saturday night (August 6th). It’s almost midnight. I’ve had two beers in quick succession and I’m rather tipsy. My arms aren’t responding the way they normally do.

Here’s the lowdown: the plumbing is fixed, praise be. Superman once again earned his title by clearing the kitchen drain. It took a lot of smelly work, but he did it. He’s wonderful. And he is out of town. Monday is his brother’s 40^th birthday, so he and Sproing went to the old homestead to visit The Folks and celebrate baby brother’s birthday. I’m here with Diva, praise be (I jest). I miss my husband.

School starts a week from Monday, Praise Be! August 15^th sees the young ones back in school from 8:00 a.m. to 3:20 p.m. They are usually dropped off at school around 7:30 and don’t return home on the bus until 3:55, so I have that much freedom. It is truly a wonderful thing.

The reason you are reading this after the fact is that I’m posting it after the fact because the fact is that our internet is inaccessible. I suspect the router. The kids tell me that we had a power outage Friday afternoon as I lay sleeping. It couldn’t have been a very long power outage because I lay sleeping with my CPAP, which is powered by electricity. My lungs would have noticed if the power had gone off for more than a few seconds. Back to the point: perhaps the power outage did something wonky with the router. Or the modem, the gods forbid. I haven’t fiddled with it yet, since the need isn’t powerful. Maybe Sunday I’ll see what I can make of the mess.

And speaking of school starting, the youngsters are in “need” of new clothes. Honestly they don’t really need new clothes, but it’s the start of a new school year and tradition dictates new clothes. Sproing had few pants that worked for school, and no shorts that fit. Friday morning he and I went out and bought him a few new shorts and a couple pair of pants. He also acquired four new t-shirts, socks, and boxer-briefs. He’s ready to roll. This afternoon in the heat I took Diva out. She honestly didn’t need a thing, but because I am a Wonderful Mother I bought two new tops and a new pair of pants for her, plus socks, underwear, and a few bras.

Did I mention that it was hot today? I don’t know what the official high temperature was this afternoon, but in my estimation it was over 100 degrees (F). The humidity was ridiculously high so it felt miserable. Perhaps the actual ambient temperature was only in the high 90s, but the heat index was beyond miserable. And Superman took our air conditioned Aveo on his trip, leaving me with the un-air conditioned truck. Did I mention “miserable?” I finally was able to take a shower at 11:00 tonight. I feel a lot better. Sweat was my hair mouse.

Those Mexicans don’t put twist tops on their beer bottles. I have bottle openers handy in many rooms of the house. I’ve become a beer aficionado, at least with the beers I like. I just opened a Dos Equis. XX. Double yum. This is my final beer of the night. Really. When I have enough alcohol to affect my sense of balance, my feet get hot. Just thought you ought to know.

I heard the most amusing phrase on the radio Friday. It was an NPR news cast, the 10:00 top-of-the-hour news brief. “…and an undisclosed number of independent polygamists…” Isn’t that a hoot? What the hell does it mean? It sounds like a title of a David Sedaris book. Speaking of David Sedaris, last week I read When You Are Engulfed in Flames. I recommend it.

I’ve had enough beer that I feel all loving toward everything and everyone. Oooh, I love you soooo much. I’m not drunk enough to ignore the fact that I am ridiculous in this state, though. You’re glad you’re just reading this and not with me to observe the ridiculosity of it all. Spell check doesn’t like “ridiculousity.” Silly spell check.

C is coming over tomorrow afternoon. We will go to the fabric store together. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? I miss him. He and N are doing really well in their new apartment. They share the apartment with another gay couple and a single girl. It’s an interesting three bedroom, 1.5 bath apartment. Two of the bedrooms are fairly large, but the third looks like an afterthought. (Spell check is wonderful when one is tipsy. My fingers aren’t so reliable after three beers.) That third bedroom is perhaps 10x10, maybe less. The young single girl occupies that room. I want it, though. I would love to have my own little private room in C and N’s apartment. It is half a block from the college, and less than two miles from home. That room could be my private hideaway, a safe place for escape when I need to get away from home. And I could park there and walk to campus, negating the need for a parking pass.

The problem with three beers is the resulting headache. I don’t have hangovers the morning after. I have my hangover headache pretty much immediately. Champaign tends to give me a headache before I finish the first glass. I love the stuff, but don’t like my body’s reaction to it.

It seems to be time to go to sleep. Damn, it’s after 1:00 a.m. already. I love to write rambling blog posts like this. But I am especially tired. So I’m going to brush my teeth and go to sleep. Goodnight.

Road Trip update

Warning: drunk blogging ahead

I gotta tell you, the summer climate here is SO much better than back in South Carolina. The temps this week are about 10 to 15 degrees (F) lower than what poor ol' Superman is suffering. It's warm here, but bearable. Here's a thermometer I saw in the shade at noon. Isn't this lovely?

We don't want to talk about what this thermometer will look like 6 months from now. It hangs beside the mailboxes at an apartment complex where Light was investigating housing options. We've looked at some apartments, and have more to look at tomorrow and maybe Thursday.

As we drove around the area today we come upon this view. Isn't it lovely? This is a hillside west of Indiana, Pennsylvania.
Also, Pennsylvania is fun to type. As is Massachusetts. Schnecdity isn't nearly as fun, because I don't really know how to spell it, even though C and I stayed in a very scary motel in Schnectidy last summer. Scnectidy. Schnectity. OK, using spell check now: Schenectady. See? That was not nearly as fun as Pennsylvania or Massachusetts, which I can type without getting those mean red lines under them.

Now, about the drunkenness. I'm not really drunk, just a bit buzzed. On of all things, beer! Yes, I'm developing a taste for beer. I've been working on it for a few months now, starting at a local Greenwood eatery I may have mentioned before, a pizza place with lots of beer options. Tonight I'm drinking Shock Top, a Belgian white beer with a hint of orange. I've had two, which is all I'm going to have tonight. I got a great deal on it, though, from a bargain beer store where I had to buy a case of bottles. That's the smallest quantity they sell. The price per bottle was just over $1.20. Actually, I don't know if that's a great deal or not. I hardly ever buy beer from a store. I get it at restaurants, where it's more expensive. I don't even know how much beer costs from the restaurant. I rarely pay attention, since Superman pays the check.

We left the quaint rustic hotel today. The window unit air conditioner was blowing something we suspect is mold into the room, causing Light's sinuses to explode (metaphorically). She could barely breathe. We didn't use the air conditioner at all the last day and a half, and that helped a bit, but she was still suffering. So was I, what with my intolerance for heat. It wasn't terribly hot, but it wasn't comfortable either. So we're at a Comfort Inn on the south end of town. The room is probably three times the size of the one we had in the other place. It is prettier, but has much less character. We're paying twice what we did at the other place, but saving a bit of money with discounts available at local eateries by presenting our key card. Yes, our key cards are also discount coupons. Cool, huh? There is some other kind of savings over the other place, but I forget now what it is.

And speaking of character, here are some pictures of the bathroom in the old place. This is the floor of the shower.
The shower floor has the same tile pattern as the rest of the bathroom floor. It has a pleasant geometric balance, though these colors wouldn't be my first choice.
The shower looks almost like it could be a tub, but it isn't quite. It's big, almost 5 feet long and 3.5 feet wide. Light took her showers in the morning and had irregular water pressure, but my evening showers had near perfect pressure. I dunno.
I seem to be rambling. I'm getting tired and my beer buzz is nearly gone. We've got apartments to look at tomorrow, and perhaps we'll go to the Jimmy Stewart museum. Did I mention that Indiana, PA is his hometown? Yes, and his voice instructs pedestrians crossing all the intersections along the main east/west road through downtown. It's charming and disarming. The locals who work downtown are probably sick of the man's voice by now.

Oh, look, I'm rambling again. I got hot and sticky today, so I'm going to take a shower and go to bed in my nice cool motel room. Light just went to bed and is covered with a blanket and the comforter. I'll probably only need the sheet. This is great.

Drunk blogging and a rant about Diva

...because that's always fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I had a good day... and drunk blogging

I've had a spate of bad days over the past couple of weeks, but have felt pretty good most of this week. I had 2.5 glasses of wine and some spiked coffee this evening, and my head is floating about half a head above my head now. Feelin' groovy.

Superman left here Sunday to visit his parents. I may have mentioned before that his father is in poor health. Today (24 Nov) is his 79th birthday, and Superman wanted to visit and be there on his dad's birthday. He had a good visit with the folks. He left their place around noon and drove to the city where Twitch attends school to retrieve the boy. They got here at 9:17 this evening (he notices stuff like that). Superman is compressed, and has been attempting to decompress since he got home, having spotty success. I'm glad he's back home. Things went pretty well while he was gone, but it is very good to have him back where he belongs.

So Twitch is home now, and Light got home yesterday (Tues.). Tomorrow morning I will drive to Columbia to retrieve the Diva. She'll come home for Thanksgiving dinner, then go right back to the loony bin. I'm a bit uncomfortable about her being here, but I feel obligated to include her in the holiday observance. I think I'd feel more uncomfortable (read: guilty) if we excluded her. The plan is to keep a wary eye on her at all times, and no one will be alone with her. It's a tricky thing. Yes, there's some resentment being served with our holiday meal.

Speaking of the meal, Superman and Light will be doing the majority of the cooking. I'll go get Diva, and hopefully he will drive her back in the afternoon. After being on the road for 9 hours today he might not be thrilled about another 3 or so. Eh. It's what we do.

Twitch is home. He can be an annoying pain in the arse. Sproing is having some trouble settling down tonight, and Light is in the room that Twitch and Sproing share, singing to her little brother. Sproing loves that. They developed that habit last summer and it was a good way for them to build on their relationship. Twitch was at school through the summer and missed that fun. Well, he's trying to go to sleep now and is entirely put out about all this melodic sweetness. Oh, get over yourself, young'un!

I mixed up a batch of ginger snap cookies this evening, and the batter is currently in the refrigerator acquiring the necessary firmness for shaping and baking. Shape and Bake, not the same as Shake and Bake. I also baked two pumpkin and one pecan pie. That's about the extent of my contribution to dinner. When I get back with Diva tomorrow (probably close to noon) I'll do some further consultation and perhaps pitch in with some real work. We'll see what needs to be done.

This post is boring me. There is some other stuff I want to talk about but tonight is not the time to do so. I need to discuss art and psychology and uncertainty and internal conflict and that sort of thing. Hopefully I'll get back here to do that before next week. I have a bunch of homework to do this weekend, too. Right now, though, it's time to go to bed.

I hope everyone has a lovely weekend, a happy Thanksgiving if you live in a place where that applies, and peace and security within your life.

(From my perspective this post seems fairly coherent, as if I weren't under the alcofluence of incohol at all. I'll have to check back tomorrow for a different perspective.)