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"Another villain on the cover
Of every major magazine,
The victim somewhere in between.
See how they twist and shout.
And as I'm searching for the story,
Subscription card falls to the floor;
I'm losing interest more and more."

-- Villains, The Verve Pipe



I use Yahoo! a lot, for email, professional pursuits, weather checks, football picks...

It took me a long time to warm up to Yahoo! after using hotmail for so long. And while I still like hotmail, it's more like... OK. Their most recent redesign is yucky, and if I leave my computer on overnight, I can't just refresh my hotmail without completely restarting my computer.

So, instead of pretending to promote Yahoo!® (registered trademark, all rights reserved, notice: we collect personal information on this site), my point is that I recently noticed an ad running for some kind of schooling site. I paid little attention to the ad, as I do most ads, especially ones about continuing education. Been there, done that.

But for some reason I recently read the ad, and I was laughing my ass off.

So, you want to be a social worker, do ya? Admirable. A psychologist? Nice. Criminal investigator... counselor... teacher...


But a bounty hunter? A BOUNTY HUNTER???

I can't imagine explaining to my 6-year-old in 12 years that, no, I am not going to pay for years of college so that you can go out and accost bad people who are the most dangerous of the dangerous. AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN.

Like me, and my parents, and all the generations before, you are expected to go out and find a reasonable and safe profession to take care of your elders when we get old.

How about asbestos removal? Or window washing??

Overheard on MNF

"Time now to recap the scoring in tonight's game. [Laugh.] Annnnd there's your recap."

-- Announcer, late in the fourth quarter, Dolphins at Steelers, score: 0-0



After the game, all the ESPN talking heads were whining about the field. No footing, no balance... it was like old-school... no chance for competition...

HUH??

Were the teams NOT ON THE SAME FIELD?

I remember vividly -- because I was in attendance -- the last time the Steelers played the Dolphins, in Miami, and THERE WAS A HURRICANE IN PROGRESS.

And we still whooped their asses.

And no one whined about the field then.

Out of the box

About five years ago, in a place far, far away called Florida, I thought it would be a great idea to buy icicles lights for my windows... ones that hung inside, with little sucker thingies with hooks. This, I reasoned, would prevent me from endangering myself on a stepstool hanging Christmas stuff outside, and more importantly, keep me out of the 90 degree heat.

And though it was a ridiculous notion that icicles could actually form in Florida, I thought they were kind of classy -- not the colorful ones or the ones that blink maddeningly, because, well, real icicles just don't do that. For drug-free people.

The problem with these damn icicle lights in Florida: There was so much humidity, it was almost impossible to get those sucker thingies to stay in place, and over the course of a day, they would slowly slide down the window, gathering up the sand and dust that gathered on the pane on a daily basis, and by Christmas time, all the sets were back in the box.

Fast forward to today, when I crack open my tubs of Christmas decorations, and I have the bright idea that, hey, these might work here. I had enough for all the windows in the front of the house, and I gave it a go.

It was really smooth sailing until the last window. Not only did I have an impossibly heavy TV-occupied armoire in front of that window, but THIS window frame was different from the others, with little room for the needed tape to keep the damn things up. (I had long ago pitched the sucker thingies.)

To keep Zoe from hearing words she's never heard before, I kept taking breaks from that last window, but determined to MAKE IT WORK, I went back four or five times with different kinds of tape, a chair, a step stool, a ladder. I taped them to the window, but anyone who has tried to make tape stick to a window when it's below 50 knows this is an impossibility. I finally busted out a hammer and some brads....

But before I started nailing, I thought... why not just tape these fuckers to the inside of my blinds?


And so I did. Welcome to my house, don't look at the trailer trash window over there.

The first time they fall down, they're going back in the box.

Alarming

I was supposed to get up earlier than usual today, because Zoe didn't have school and the day care was closed, I had other arrangements that would put me beyond my normal timeframe, but I think my mind thought otherwise when my alarm went off at an unusual time.

WTF is this thing going off for NOW???

I hit snooze one too many times, and then, out of the blue, it suddenly occurred to me, holy shit, I'm supposed to be up, I'm gonna be late for work, and I think I leaped from completely prone to my knees on the bed like some kind of African animal I've seen on Discovery so quickly that I could have hurt others had they been lying in bed with me.

I realized: It was bright in my room. Was I that late?

NOOOOOO.

It had snowed -- really snowed -- and all that freakin' light was reflecting off the millions of snowflakes that congregated on my lawn, the neighbor's lawn, the neighbor's roof...

I gazed out the window in awe for a few moments, watching the thick flakes drift to the ground in hoards, then I sounded the ultimate alarm:

"ZOE! WAKE UP! IT SNOWED!!!!!"


Our first real snowfall. We need to get a sled. Pronto.

Happy Turkey Day

I have been feeling really down the past few weeks. Maybe it has something to do with getting only five minutes of sunshine a day, or the changing of seasons, or driving home from work in the dark. Or maybe it's residual from burying my grandfather and losing my boyfriend and my dog in the same week.

Whatever it is, I have been avoiding human contact as much as possible. I tolerate my kids well though, and in fact, they are sick of my fawning all over them because that seems to be the only thing that makes me happy these days.

We spent Thanksgiving at home today. It was a last-minute decision and one that I was relatively sure I'd make, but I still wasn't prepared to make a proper Thanksgiving dinner, nor did I have the desire or energy to.

So, we had chicken casserole. At least I can say we ate bird and stuffing.


And I wouldn't have been able to pull it off without the requisite canned cranberry jelly crap.


Which, Jacob loved, by the way. He has been eating a lot of people food these days and seems to love it all, even onions and canned cranberry jelly crap. It's fun to watch him try new things, and the boy can eat.

The chicken casserole wasn't bad, and I can tell it wasn't bad because Zoe ate all of it, even while complaining about the broccoli. Over dinner, we talked about what we are thankful for.



I am thankful for my two beautiful children. But why the hell did Mrs. Harris come first on her list??? Geez!

I am also thankful for cheese, Giant Eagle Fuelperks and Magic 8-balls. And my friend David, who has helped me tremendously these past few months with staying in touch with that sane part of me that's in there somewhere, holding down the fort.

Money doesn't buy happiness

"When all you got to keep is strong,
Move along, move along like I know you do.
And even when your hope is gone,
Move along, move along just to make it through."

-- Move Along, All American Rejects



I've been a little fucked up this weekend... Tom invited me to watch his son's hockey game Friday, probably because it happened to be at the club where Zoe goes and he knows we might be there at the same time. I haven't seen or talked to him since I dropped off his stuff last weekend, and I really needed to do that, and I thought I was getting all sane about the situation again.

Then... hey, come watch the hockey game.

I had decided not to, and went to get my kids early to avoid seeing him, and wouldn't you know it... in walks his ex-wife.

Hmmmm... he failed to mention that she would be in attendance.

Why would a guy want to watch a kid's hockey game with two of his exes? And I've never even met her. "Ex-wife, meet the ex-girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, meet the ex-wife."

Forget that for the past two weeks, I've been at a loss trying to understand why the guy who talked to me about what school district we should live in, and with whom I had conversations about financing a diamond, suddenly decided that his life was not "simple" enough to accommodate me.

I don't know what he's been going through, but it seemed entirely insensitive to me, to invite me to that hockey game, to put all of us in that situation, mostly the kids.

I'm glad I didn't see him, but I hate that part of me that wishes I did.

This weekend I took down the gazebo out back, took all the chairs in from the campfire, cleaned and covered up the grill... and it was stuff I had to get done, but it was all stuff that was all Tom, he helped me build these things, use these things, live with these things... and so I just couldn't get him out of my mind.

Today I picked Zoe up at the club and we drove directly to the nearest discount department store. "We need to go shopping," I told her. It's what I do when I'm a little off balance. Purge the checking account.

"Why do we have to go shopping Mommy?? I'm so hungryyyyyyyyyy."

"Tell you what, if you do this for Mommy, you can get one thing -- anything -- in the store."

"BUT. I. AM. HUNGRY. I. WANT. TO. GO. HOME."

"Honey, I promise it won't take me long. Mommy just needs to spend some money." Just a few hundred bucks. That's all it will take. Mommy just needs to spend money on crap to get this fleeting neurosis to pass....

"But you always say you don't have any money."

She got me there. But once inside the store, she discovered the toy section, and any concerns she may have had about my possible fibbing in the past disappeared.

And as a payoff, I had to spend the evening putting together this hideous creature of a toy, which is exactly why I wanted a man around in the first place.

Why everyone with a baby needs a dog

Because Dustbusters really fill up too fast.



Jacob almost began walking this weekend. I'm really dreading missing the first time it happens... we missed his first tooth, his first word, his first crawl... but the day care said they'd call if it happened so I could run over and see it before Joe, LOL.



And not to leave Zoe out... She got three As and a B on her first report card, started new chores like feeding the dog, and she is becoming quite the Steelers fan.

A realization

Zoe, eating chicken tonight: "Does chicken come from pigs?"

"Um, no, it comes from chickens."

"I thought eggs came from chickens."

"And chicken comes from chickens." (Ummmm, hence the name???)

Slightly whining: "So.............. they make it dead so we can have the chicken?"

"Yes."

A long pause, as she rolled this around in her mind while looking down at her half-eaten chicken leg, and I wondered for a moment if I would have to cook something else.



"They make it so goooooood."

Tunnel vision

I woke up alarmingly late this morning, hustled to get my shit together, dropped Zoe off at school and began the 20-minute trip to work. Right as I was passing the day care center, Joe pulled RIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF ME.

This has been happening a little more often lately than I care for. I've noticed though that when he is behind me, he has the courtesy (or gumption) to pull off and wait a while.

So, today I returned the favor and took the parkway into work.

I don't normally drive major highways in Pittsburgh unless I have to, and today I was reminded why: Even though it was a clear day, even though it was 10 in the morning, EVEN THOUGH IT WASN'T A FULL MOON, traffic came to a halt at the top of Green Tree Hill. Why?

Because there's a tunnel coming up in a couple miles, of course!!!!


All these drivers have probably not been in a tunnel for the past 12 hours, so we must all proceed with caution! Who knows what could possibly be in that mountain orifice since we drove through it last night??

I really expected to see some catastrophe that was making traffic crawl, but there was nothing. Once inside the tunnel, things picked up. And this is not unique to this particular tunnel either.

It's funny that in Fort Lauderdale, in ALL of Fort Lauderdale, there is ONE tunnel, it goes under the New River, and people actually pick up speed and drive through it recklessly and honk even if they never use their horns anywhere else, as if it is some sort of amusement attraction.

Pittsburghers have a thing about holes in hills. I don't get it.

But after all that, and more importantly, as I was getting out of my car at work, Joe was just pulling into the parking lot.

I won!

Late dinner

Hey, it's Friday somewhere in the world.


"I swear I just found everything I need."

-- The Only Time, Nine Inch Nails

Tub to flub

Zoe normally takes showers these days, but right about the time I was ready to give Jacob a bath in the kitchen sink, just as I gathered him up and was standing before my kitchen sink, all full of dishes, and thinking this would make a good comic strip, me standing here all stoic before this unclean vessel while wondering if I should just wipe him all down with baby wipes, Zoe was in the background whining, "Mommmmmy, pleeeeeeease can I take a bath???"

A little light bulb went off over my head.


I've never seen two children have so much fun. It was like I wasn't in the room, and they splashed and played, and any concerns I had before dipping Jacob in the tub -- with Zoe -- and what might manifest -- melted away quickly. I didn't care that all the water coming out of tub was dripping into my basement. The way they enjoyed this first of siblingness was so very pure and innocent.

After about 10 minutes of all this love and joy, there was a crisis. All of a sudden, Zoe screeched, "MOOOOOOOMMMMMMMY! He's POOOOOOOOOOOPPPPING!!!!"

And the chaos that followed will probably wipe out the few moments I had there of validation that I was doing all this raising kids stuff right.

Everyone is doing it

It seems every time I get together with my extended family, the younger generation of cousins (high schoolers) is bragging about their number of myspace comments or how many buddies they have on their AIM lists.

When I was a high schooler, the internet communication ganglion consisted of dial-up broadcast bulletin boards and IRC. My family didn't own a computer. My first computer class consisted of directing a "turtle" to draw shapes on a Mac Classic. Donkey Kong was still pixelated.

My first Mac had a 500MB hard drive.

How far we've come!

A few months ago I got an email from a former colleague to join a networking site. By the time I got around to finally exploring it, his offer had expired. But once I registered and started sending out invitations and adding contacts, I was glued to my email to see who would respond.

Will he give me an add? Is she my professional friend? It's like the adult, working world version of buddy lists and shout outs.

Then I started wondering if hiring employers look at this network... and what they glean from it. And more importantly, what my contacts would say about me if they were forced to make a statement under duress.

"She was really good at sneaking to the front of the line for buffets!"

"She always found the best parking spots!"

"She was good at staying awake during meetings! Most of the time!"

"She could hold her liquor!"

But it's been a nice visit back in time, to a workplace that was once a very fun place to be. I've been thinking of the memories I have with people from that time, and how I should have kept up more in spite of the craziness I've had the past two years.

I hope some of them have kept up with me and my stupid blog, and know why I started it, years ago, in the first place: Because I anticipated leaving them, and it was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made.

'Live your life with arms wide open'

"I break tradition;
Sometimes my tries
Are outside the lines.
We've been conditioned
To not make mistakes,
But I can't live that way."

-- Unwritten, Natasha Bedingfield


Tom extended an offer, casually, to have a casual relationship.

I don't know what that means, and at first, I was all chomping at the bit, like I can still see him, I can see his kids, his family, maybe, sort of... what does casual mean?

Dinner "here and there."

After thinking about it, I felt... insulted.

All this feeling he knows I have, and he wants to put me in his back pocket? Pull me out when he has time to pay attention? Pull at my heartstrings enough to keep stringing it along? Slap a new label on us so we don't have to address any conflicts?


I think.... lately... about the night we danced at the wedding, and I put my head on his shoulder and he had his arms around me, and I felt like I could do that forever. I wanted to be in his arms forever. And I was so fucking there. I was so sure.

But I've been reduced to a casual date.

I think... I'll have to pass on that. Exit denial stage.

I'm FREE!!!

Tom learned today that he has NO NEW CANCER.

So, I can let go now.

I have been feeling like shit because we split at such a time... I couldn't quite convince myself that it was the best time for him, even though it was the best time for his kids... and to hell with what I've been feeling, right? Because I know if he was sick I would have been all over the place making a nuisance of myself to take care of him.

I miss his family, I miss his children, I miss the unsteadiness of his voice and the smell of his deodorant. I miss the possibilities we had. I miss him eating at my dining room table, dozing on my couch. I miss the view from his bedroom window, watching for him to come home on Sundays.

But I can let go now.



I should let go now.

When you're raising kids properly

"Mommy, can I watch TV?"

"You CANNOT PUT ON CARTOONS. The Steelers are on."

"That's OK. I don't like to watch real stuff, except the Steelers."

Someone trusted me to look after her child

I didn't have to submit to anything, no background checks, no credit reports.

I've had kids sleep at my house before, but usually with the parents very nearby, like mostly Aimee passed out on the bathroom floor (HA HA JUST KIDDING SWEETIE, you always make it to the futon) or visiting out-of-towners and I clashing at my dad's house.

But never have I had the courage to ask another parent to relinquish their child to my care for a night.

While I'm quick to let Zoe go to any modestly humane family who is willing, I am not so trusting of my ability to keep another child in check whose idiosyncrasies I know little about.

But Zoe caught me off guard, I let her make the call to her BFF, and we made the leap into the "we accept overnighters" zone. It's tit for tat. (Hehe, I said TAT.)

When her mom dropped her off, Elsie was in full gear. Mom and I discussed all the basics, including What Not To Serve The Child and various other things I needed to know to keep the kid alive. Then it got to the point where we needed to talk about when the child would be turned back over to her parents.

Elsie's mom asked if it would be OK if she and her extended family attended church in the morning before picking her up... citing various reasons including my favorite: It would be too much to get out of bed a little earlier than normal to come get her. Which, in sirschy-speak, translates into: I, personally, don't have to get my ass up early and get someone else's child ready for church.

Good deal.

But then, like a lightening bolt from out of the blue, Elsie's mom offers: "Well, if YOU take her to church...."

As in, she's OK with her going to church, and here's where I have to break it to her....

"Oh, we don't do church."

And I quickly came back with a most witty remark that I have too much going on to make it to church... on any given Sunday.... UGH.

It just came out, just like that, and then this poor woman was probably thinking, what have I done, leaving my kid in this unholy house.

Farewell, Maddie girl

These past seven days have definitely ranked near the top of the list of The Worst Weeks Ever.

And damn! Look how clean my grout used to be!

Torn apart

"I want you to remain.
The power of children can amaze.
I'll try not to complain.
I know that's a pisser, baby."

-- The Chemicals Between Us, Bush


Things deteriorated rapidly with me and Tom this week. Suddenly his children are all over his case about sharing him. Tom oscillates between kicking their asses and relenting to their wishes, and I know it is taking a toll on him. He feels like he is choosing between his happiness and theirs.

All the guilt and stress he is feeling has me so concerned... and I feel helpless, so very helpless. And with half our brood lashing out, what could we do?

So I found myself packing up his stuff tonight. No bitterness, (OK, not a LOT of bitterness), no anger, (OK, maybe just a bit), but there's a lot of sadness. We love each other, but it's just not working.

I have never been one to throw in the towel without fighting like hell, but my intuition told me that this time, there really is no other choice.

I feel a little bit of peace knowing that some of the turmoil is over. For both of us.