Ahhhhh, internet

"You need to know
This situation's getting old
And now the more you talk
The less I can take."

-- Walk Away, Kelly Clarkson



I now have INTERNET. Finally.

The move this past weekend went fairly smoothly. The only exception was the box my cousin dropped: the one that contained all the pottery I made in college. About 50% survived, so I guess I should be thankful.

As much as I want to rant about my situation with Joe, I have to restrain myself. It's that bad. I am calling off work tomorrow because he has not threatened, but flat-out said, that he is taking the baby from day care tomorrow, even though it is my weekend with him.

He's doing this because I took Jacob to the doctor today without giving him due notice in case he wanted to attend. Way to develop an interest in a child when faced with child support payments.

OK, that was a rant. I'll have to stop myself there. We have lawyers and work involved now, and it's a big fucking huge fucking mess and I've put everyone on notice that it stops now, that I'm keeping the boy as long as the boy's father wants to continue to attack me verbally, thus shutting off effective communication about what we need to be communicating about regarding our infant son. That sounds good, right? But what I really mean to say is, you don't punctuate each sentence to this girl with "you cunt" or "you bitch" and get away with it. Oh, fucking no.

He didn't ask what the doctor said about Jacob, but he produced 20 questions demanding why he wasn't alerted to where and when I'd be if I was taking the baby from day care without his knowledge, even though I obviously TOLD HIS ASS about the appointment or how would he even know I had taken the boy out of day care? OH MY FUCKING GOD. He doesn't even know what Jacob's doctor's name is.

OK, that was a rant too.



I would love to be enjoying my new home, my first home, my beloved home. But all this shit is overshadowing it.

Which is not to say I'm not happy in it. I can't even imagine being in that fucking townhouse right now.


I got about a hundred boxes unpacked. Which means I have only about a hundred more! This house is not big on storage, so I'm going to fill the place with bookshelves. What I don't want to be looking at will go into decorative boxes and put on the bookshelves. My knick-knackery will go on the bookshelves. Toys will be hidden in baskets and put on the bookshelves. I might even dig up a few books to put on the bookshelves.

My walls will be lined with them. I will be dusting endlessly. Cozy bookshelves.

I'm deciding between building them in or not. Which I have time to think about, since I have to also decide on a lawnmower or lawn service, what color dish towels I want, how much I want to spend on blinds, and couches: leather or cloth?

And whether or not I want to get a restraining order.