Halloween - Busy but Fun

Halloween. I spent the day, starting at 8:30 this morning, working at Zach and Dolly's school. I volunteered to help with the Halloween party they were having for the kids; spent my time setting up decorations, game stations, candy prizes and treats, etc. It was a long day but lots of fun. Watching the kids come into the gym to see all the fun things they could do was amazing, especially when the Kindergartners arrived. This was their first official school party so they were a little awed and confused about what to do. Their joy, once they figured out what to do, was wonderful.

I'd ridden to the school with Paul because he was volunteering in Zach's class for the day so we let Zach and Dolly avoid the afternoon bus and get a ride with us when Paul brought me back to my home. Ty arrived shortly thereafter and soon enough it was time to get ready for trick-or-treating. We wanted to start around 5:30 but there were no other kids out on the streets yet so we waited at Paul's place until around 6:30. Then we were off.

We drove to an area where we knew people were giving out candy and we began walking up and down blocks, through cul-de-sacs, up and down streets - first one side then the other. The kids were having fun and we came upon loads of other kids and their parents in that neighborhood, but we couldn't help but notice how different Halloween was from when we were kids.

Most people today don't go out until after dark. When I was a kid and Halloween was on a school night we got in from school around 3:00, got into our costumes, and were out the door - and people were home to give us our treats at that hour. These days most people don't get home until 5:30 or later so they're not ready to start answering the doorbell until 7:00 or later.

When I was a kid most houses in the neighborhood were giving out candy. We literally ran from one house to the next, almost non-stop, until we reached the end of the block. Nowadays kids go to about three houses in a row and the next five are dark because nobody is home or the family just isn't giving anything. The neighborhood we went to is the same one I always took them to when we lived here in MO a few years ago. Even three years ago most of the homes on those blocks were lit up and the residents were waiting for kids to arrive. Tonight was a lot different. There were a lot of homes lit, but just as many were dark; so many more dark than in the past.

What struck me as really funny was that my kids actually started asking to stop trick-or-treating after a little more than an hour. Remember when you were a kid? I do. My mom would be telling my sister and me it was time to go home and we'd be begging to go to just a few more houses. She almost had to drag us home. My kids did the same thing last year when we were in the shelter. A friend of mine and her kids went with us to another friends neighborhood to go trick-or-treating and three of the six kids wanted to stop after an hour. My friend and I made them go to more houses.

I've never seen kids actually ask to stop going trick-or-treating. It was as incredible to me this year as it was last year. It was okay, though, because we covered a lot of ground tonight and I've actually got one big bowl and two huge baskets full of what the kids collected. Not to mention that I still have the candy that I bought to distribute in case someone came to our home after we arrived home. I didn't have any trick-or-treaters, though so now I've just got a buttload of candy in my home.

Doesn't matter, though, my kids had fun and I got some exercise while watching them have a good time. That's what it's about, after all. Seeing my kids happy and enjoying the holiday is one of the great pleasures in my life. I don't like holidays and if I didn't have kids I wouldn't celebrate any of them. Since I do, though, I do what I can to make the most of the holidays for my kids. But Halloween is over and the next big holiday, Christmas, is on its way. {{sigh}} Time to mentally prepare myself and do what I can to give my kids all the joy of the season that they deserve. :)
 
Until next time...peace to all.

A Minor Gripe, I Think

I'm having a really hard time trying to explain to my kids that they can't be disrespectful and that they have to follow rules these days. They're constantly seeing adults being rude as well as seeing adults allowing kids to be rude. We went to a little trunk-or-treat event today over by the management office where we live. For those who may not know, trunk-or-treat is a safe way for kids to go trick-or-treating without going from house to house. The agency/church/school has their employees line their cars up around a field or parking lot with the trunks open and the kids file past collecting candy from the owner of the vehicle. It's usually quick and the kids have fun.

The office did that for the kids in the area today and there were rules to follow; some stated, some just a natural given because it's basic common courtesy. One of the rules was that all children had to be accompanied by an adult yet there were numerous kids there with their friends but no parent or adult supervisor anywhere in sight. There was also a line to follow.

My kids and I, along with our neighbor and her two boys all got on the line. There were people ahead of us and people behind us yet somehow we got separated along the way with my neighbor and her boys getting shuffled further back in line. Not only that but Ty and Dolly ended up seven people ahead of Zach and me. How did that happen, you may ask. I'll tell you how. It's because adults were allowing children to enter the line wherever and whenever they felt like it.

All seven of my group were standing together as the line began moving. The lady who had been in front of me with her two girls saw a couple of her neighbor's kids come running across the lawn to get in line and rather than telling them to go to the end of the line she just automatically assumed I would be okay with her letting these four extra girls get in front of my kids and me. Then, as she waited for a couple more kids to come running to her group she allowed Ty and Dolly to move ahead in the line while she made the rest of us wait.

Behind me the same thing was apparently happening. My neighbor had turned her head to say hi to someone she knew and because she wasn't looking another group of kids, along with their adult, moved right into the middle of the line, even though there were about fifty people behind them. How do I tell my kids not to shove into a line when adults are allowing kids to do it right in front of them? If you say something to the adult you get attitude in return, and kids without an adult with them seem to think they have the right to do what they please. Since the day was supposed to be about the kids I just kept my mouth shut.

I know this is a small issue but it irks me. I'm trying to raise my kids to be respectful to others under any circumstances but it's hard when they see so much disrespect around them all the time. The adults who don't care teach it to their kids; the same way that my other neighbor taught her kid to be a racist bully. It's disgusting sometimes, it really is.

I can be driving my car through the complex and slow down or stop for kids in the way who just stare at me with attitude while they walk to the side of the road. It's almost like they think they own the road and I'm inconveniencing them. Walking into a store where a kid or teen has just entered or exited is just as bad. You'd think they'd hold the door when they see someone coming but they don't; they just let it close as if the next person isn't even there.

My kids hold the door open for the person behind them even if my kids have the option of entering or exiting first. They don't, though; they get to the door, check to see if someone else is coming and hold the door to let others go through first, then my kids will go. It's common courtesy. And my kids always thank the person who holds a door for them. I can't tell you how many times I've held a door for someone who just ignored me. Most times I'll just let the rudeness pass but if I'm in a mood I'll yell, "You're welcome" after the person has moved past me without so much as a nod of the head. My kids have witnessed and know why I do it.

I just can't stand the fact that so few people these days actually care about using manners and respectful behavior, much less teaching them to their kids. Yet these same people get pissed off when someone treats a member of their family rudely, and will also give serious attitude when their own rude behavior is pointed out to them. This isn't new, I've been witnessing it for over 20 years, but it's really getting on my nerves now because I have kids who are always asking me why people are rude and allowed to get away with it.

My standard answer is, "Some people just don't care about being respectful or following rules. Our family does, though." My kids are getting tired of hearing it and I'm getting tired of saying it. It's just too bad rudeness isn't a crime that can be branded on a person so we'd all know to steer clear. I tell my kids to just stay positive and thank a rude person for his or her input, wish the person a good day, and walk away smiling. Maybe we can be contagious and our attitudes will catch on; maybe not. At least we're doing what we can to be good people. It's the best my little family can do.

Until next time...peace to all.

Just a Little of My Weirdness

I was talking to my friend R on the phone the other night and I have no idea how the subject came up but she mentioned candy corn. I felt compelled to tell her that I have a method for eating candy corn, as well as pretzel twists and peanut M&Ms. That got her curiosity piqued and she asked me for the methods. Since she asked, I'll share them with you, too. Just because...

Candy corn are simple with my method and R admitted that she eats them the same way; I'm guessing a lot of people do. I bite off the white tip first, the I eat the orange layer, and finally the yellow. The layers don't taste different from one another, it's just fun and makes them last longer. How? Because you have to eat them one at a time using my method.

Pretzels twists are a little more complicated. Picture a pretzel twist in your mind so you'll understand what I'm describing. First I eat the little nubs on the outer edges of the round parts; I bite one off, then the other. Next I eat the little bridge part, the part that, when you bite it off, leaves you with a miniature pair of glasses. Finally I eat the round parts, one at a time, never together. I don't know why; I just eat them that way.

Peanut M&Ms are the most complicated of all, and I absolutely do it with each and every one. I put the piece in my mouth and push it under my back teeth on one side. I very gently bite the chocolate shell in half so one side of it breaks away from the peanut. Then I work the other side of the chocolate off the peanut. I kid you not. Once I get all the chocolate shell off I put the shell on one side of my mouth and the peanut on the other and finish eating it. I'm not kidding, I seriously eat peanut M&Ms that way; one at a time and systematically. I told you, I don't know why.

I also have a food consistency problem but I think I've mentioned it before. Sorry for the repeat if I have. I don't eat bananas because a kid in school many, many years ago was eating one and squished it through his teeth. And I don't eat Jell-O because it's like eating a big ball of snot. Food isn't supposed to move on its own. Blech!! Equally as bad are foods that pop when you bite them, like grapes or cherry tomatoes. That's just seriously gross and I stay far, far away from foods like that.

I'm just a little weird I guess, but there's nothing wrong with that because I'm betting you do some weird things too. We all do. That's why I explain to my kids that someone calling them weird is a compliment, although the person saying it probably doesn't mean it that way. Our weirdness is what makes us all individuals and we need to take pride in our own little idiosyncrasies, regardless of how weird other people think they are. Those are just some of mine; now think about yours and embrace them.

Until next time...peace to all.

Keep Your Drama to Yourself, Please and Thanks

I try to maintain a calm existence, I really do. It doesn't always work but I work at it the best I can, and it does take work, especially with three kids who are constantly fighting with one another. That I can handle; I'm used to it and can diffuse whatever comes along. I can even give diffuse situations between adults when the need arises, but there is just some drama that I refuse to let into my life.

My ex moved into his own place yesterday but he, like a few other people I know, have great difficulty being alone. Remember "Jerry Maguire?" "He can't be alone." That's my ex and a few assorted friends. I'm constantly listening to them whine and complain that they have nobody and that they're lonely and that they need someone to hold them. Seriously? Go away with that crap.

Maybe, just maybe, if they loved themselves and knew who they really are, they'd be able to hold onto relationships a little better. Now, I'm no relationship expert - most of mine have been terrible, even relationships with my family - but I do know that I'm not ready to invite someone into my life right now because I have too many other things to work on first. For me to bring someone in now would just make us both miserable and that wouldn't be fair to either of us.

So my ex and my friends are single and lonely and I don't want to listen to all the bullshit. What do they instead? They pull all kinds of self-pity crap and fake loads of drama to get attention. One friend was constantly posting on Facebook about how she was going to kill herself because she was all alone and had no friends and nobody loved her, blah, blah, blah. She has four kids and loads of friends. Regardless she'd make these posts and wait for her friends to respond telling her how much they loved her, and on and on.

What did I say in my response to her? I told her flat out to cut the bullshit. The kids and I were in the shelter at the time, I had no money, and no other options but I still didn't sit around feeling sorry for myself. I told my friend the same thing in almost those same words. I told her to shut up about not having a man in her life and to realize that things could be a lot worse for her. She deleted her post almost immediately after my response went up. She was fine for a while but is starting her "I have no man again" bullshit. Ugh.

My ex is the same way. Today he had the kids over there for a while and sent them home around 5:00 so he could continue unpacking and they could eat dinner and get ready for school tomorrow. Around 5:30 I got a text from him telling me to call the police before he killed someone. I have no idea who the someone was or what was going on. I texted him twice and called once but got no answer. He finally called me back a few minutes later telling me "It's all good. It's all good. A little Crazy Glue and some stitches. I've gotta go, I've gotta go." Whatever the fuck that means.

Basically I chalked it up to his basic attention-getting drama. I found out from a mutual friend that he was texting her up until five minutes before he texted me with his drama so I have no other option but to believe it was all crap. I haven't heard from him since so I'm guessing all is well on his end. I just can't take him, or anyone else, trying to lay their shit on me for no reason. Honestly, what did he expect me to do at that moment? Run over there to his rescue? I've got our kids here, what was I supposed to do with them? He can be such a dumbass sometimes, and so can everyone else who tries this shit on me.

I don't have time for soap operas and drama and self pity in my life so I'm certainly not going to accept it from anyone else. I'm trying to figure out a way to make sure everyone knows that I'm there for them as long as their issue is genuine; it it's not, call someone who actually cares. I don't mean to sound harsh but my kids give me enough to handle, I don't need it from adults, too. I'm just gonna keep breathing in and out and let it be and live my life. It is what it is and I'm going to accept that.

Until next time...peace to all.

Got My Freedom, Hoping for My Own Space

Paul got his own place yesterday. He left work early to get to the rental office before they closed for the weekend; he got his address and got the key. The lady told him, however, that the carpet guys hadn't been there yet and wouldn't be there until 5:00 that evening and that it would take about three hours for them to get the carpet in. Ugh... That meant he'd be spending one more night here. No worries.

He got up this morning and took the kids out to breakfast. I was invited to go along but decided against it. Paul doesn't need to spend more money than necessary and I was looking forward to the quiet time I'd get before we started moving him to his place. I knew the kids would be all over the place and that we'd be busy all day. I needed to relax beforehand. They returned from breakfast about an hour-and-a-half later and we got to work.

Between his truck and my van we had plenty of room and we made four trips each getting his belongings moved. We'd load up at my place then both of us would drive to his place and unload everything. The only thing we didn't do was rent a hand truck, which would have come in handy since he's got three small flights of stairs to walk to get up to his place. Each staircase was only seven steps, but the top of each one turned on a landing to the next. Twenty one steps up and down each time we loaded something out of the van or the truck.

We finally got everything into his place at around 3:00. We all relaxed a short while and the kids and I came back to our place. We were starved and tired. I couldn't sit just yet, though, because I had to get Dolly's room swept and get her bed moved into her room. Paul had been using it but Dolly was sleeping in my room before that because she didn't have a bed. While Paul was living here I bought a twin bed from my next-door neighbor for $15 and put it in the basement in anticipation of Paul getting his place quickly.

Dolly and I cleaned her room and got her bed in there. She was go excited that she had to sit on her own bed and watch TV by herself for a while. I came downstairs to make dinner - corn dogs and french fries - and to begin relaxing; shoes off, beer in hand. After we ate we all sat down to watch TV together. Nickelodeon had all new shows on tonight that the kids wanted to watch so I got the privilege of watching them, too. I don't mind, some of them are okay. But sitting was a mistake; the next time I got up I could barely move.

My muscles ache from shoulders to ankles and I'm sure they'll hurt even more in the morning. I hope not too badly because I need to do laundry which requires me walking up and down my basement stairs all day. I'm just looking forward to sleeping in my own bed alone tonight. I'll have room to relax and move without getting kicked in the leg or slapped across the nose by Dolly. I just hope she spends the entire night in her own bed. She says she will but I'm not so sure. She's been sleeping in my bed, pretty much, since she was born.

I just need to get my own space. I've finally got my home back now that Paul is gone; I'd like to have my own room, all to myself, with a bed that belongs only to me. I want it for tonight so that I can stretch out and hopefully not feel a sore as I think I will in the morning; I want it every other night so I can finally feel like a grown-up in my own bedroom. Fingers crossed Dolly likes having her own room and bed; maybe she and I can grow up together. :)

Until next time...peace to all.

A Simple Matter Worth Fighting For

At the beginning of August, I believe it was around the 6th, I went to the post office to rent a post office box so my ex-husband, Paul, could begin forwarding his mail before he moved here from Indiana. I couldn't rent it in his name because he'd have to do that on his own, so I rented it in my name and added his name to the box. It was $25 for three months, no refunds for early closure. Because I was only renting the box for three months I was required to sign up for automatic renewal payments from my bank card. I didn't like it but had no other choice.

The day I rented it I told the woman who was filling out the paperwork that I would be closing the post office box before the three months were up so I didn't want them taking another payment from me. She said that wasn't a problem, all I'd have to do was go to the post office and return the keys. Simple enough, right? Wrong!

In the middle of last week I asked Paul if there was any way the lady at the rental office where he was getting his apartment could give him his address so he could forward his mail and I could close the box. He said he's supposed to get the address this weekend when he moves into the place. I told him he had to get that address because the post office will be automatically renewing the box in about three weeks and I don't want that happening. He said we'll be closing the box this weekend, Monday at the latest. He also said he'd received the renewal bill in the box last week and it isn't due until the 31st. Okay, works for me.

I got up this morning and checked my account online as I do every couple of days. The USPS had already put the $25 on hold from my account. WHAT!!?? That was unacceptable. I called the post office immediately and explained why I was calling. The renewal fee isn't due for another two weeks yet they've already put the fee on hold from my account. The woman who answered the phone told me I needed to speak to the box clerk who wasn't in until 9:30; it was only 8:40 and I was aggravated.

Fortunately the box clerk is the same woman who rented the box to me so I was hoping she'd remember me. When I called at 9:45, however, and explained the problem, she gave me an 800 number to the USPS and told me I needed to speak with someone there. {{SIGH}} So I called the number and spoke with a woman. I explained that I never intended to renew the post office box and that the renewal payment isn't due for two weeks so I wanted them to release the hold on my funds. I told her they had no right to take my funds when the payment isn't due yet.

She explained that they'd sent me an email telling me I had to cancel the auto-payment before the 15th or the box would automatically be renewed and there are no refunds. I told her the only email I received from the USPS was on October 3rd and that was to tell me that my bank card was expiring and they needed me to update my card information. I told her my card isn't due to expire until late next year and that the email I received didn't include anything else about a renewal of my post office box on or about the 15th of the month. She tried to argue with me about what email I'd received but it didn't work with me so she got her supervisor on the phone to try to help me.

Same conversation, different person. She repeated the same thing to me about the renewal on the 15th and that I "should have been informed of that when I rented the box." Guess what! I wasn't informed of anything. I was told to come to the post office before the end of the third month to close the box; nothing was ever mentioned about them renewing it over two weeks before the third month was done. She read me the rules about cancelling the auto-payment before the 15th but that she didn't have any other information; that I'd have to go to the post office and handle it with them. Holy shit, was I annoyed.

A friend of mine, R, had shown up at my door as I was dealing with these government morons so she decided to go with me to the post office. Two people waiting in line and only one clerk at the desk; the clerk I needed to speak with about my issue. We finally got called and I explained everything that had been told to me over the phone. I told her I wanted the box closed and I wanted the $25 payment released back into my account. She said, I'm guessing without thinking, that I was the second person to complain to her about the early renewal of a post office box. She said that the other person complained about the payment being taken two weeks early but that she'd actually known the USPS to auto-renew boxes up to 30 days early.

Surprise, surprise!! I looked her dead in the eyes and told her she never bothered to mention that to me. Imagine that. The shocked look on her face told me that she really wasn't supposed to reveal to me the early-renewal dilemma; that's she'd just slipped up big time. I told her, quite clearly mind you, that if something wasn't done to close the box and refund my money I was going to go as high up the government ladder as I had to in order to correct the situation. I don't know if she was nervous or angry but she did look like she wanted to vomit.

She went into the back and seemed to disappear. About 10 minutes later, as a long line was forming behind me, R moved a bit down the counter and was relaying what she saw. The clerk was speaking to someone at a computer, a third person joined them, they were pointing at the computer and discussing my issue. The clerk finally returned to me with a refund request form in her hands but left again to check something on the computer. When she returned she allowed me to close the box, to fill out a refund request form, and she handed me $25 in cash. Now how easy was that to do? That's all I wanted and look at all the aggravation I had to go through to get it.

What I found really interesting is that these government employees have no clue how to reverse a payment back into someone's account. Renewing a post office box over two weeks before it expires thus prohibiting someone from closing the box if need be is thievery. The government stealing from people...is that a new concept? HAHAHAHAHAHA!! It just makes me wonder how many people just give in and deal with the USPS taking their money without complaining about it. I'm not one of them. You steal from me, I'm gonna get angry; you lie to me and we'll have more issues than you bargained for.

Tomorrow I'm going to contact the Postmaster General's office to apprise them of my issue and to find out if this is common practice amongst post offices across the country. Why would I do that when my issue has been resolved? Because I feel like making a stink over it simply based on principle. Like I said, you mess with me, I'm going to mess back - because I can. I'll let you know what I find out. I'm excited already; causing a stir gives me a joyous tingle in my bones. :)

Until next time...peace to all.

So Exhaus....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Dolly had a sleepover here last night and I'm the one who's exhausted today. She had a little friend from school stay here with us and they played together so nicely I hardly knew they were here. Even at bedtime they went up to my room, put a disk in my laptop, and watched a movie. Then they watched a little TV until they fell asleep.

Since Dolly is still in my room until this coming weekend I opted to sleep downstairs on the sofa; I am not sleeping in my bed with someone else's kid. That's just a big no-no. So the girls were in my bed; I was on the couch and Zach decided to sleep on the living room floor because he was fighting with Ty and didn't want to sleep in the same room as him. Okay, so be it.

Zach and I watched "Rudy" and then started watching one of the "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" movies before we both fell asleep. I roused and turned off the TV somewhere around 12:30. That's not unusual for me; I'm generally up until 1:30 or 2:00. So I got comfy on the couch - as comfy as I can get with both cats lying on my legs - and fell asleep. I wasn't asleep long, though, before I heard footsteps on the stairs.

Dolly had come downstairs to tell me she was afraid sleeping in my room without me. I told her she'd be fine since her friend was with her and suggested she turn on the TV for a short while to help her fall back to sleep. She agreed and went back upstairs. I got comfy again and went back to sleep. At 2:00 Dolly came back downstairs telling me she was scared upstairs without me so I got off the sofa and followed her up to my room. I keep extra blankets under my bed so I made myself a pallet on the floor at the foot of the bed.

Dolly got back in the bed and I got uncomfortable on the floor and I turned on the TV; I was now wide awake but she was drowsy. I put on a movie, "Ghost Town" with Ricky Gervais, and lay there watching it while Dolly got tired enough to fall back to sleep - again. It only took here about ten minutes but I still couldn't sleep. Not only had she woken me twice but my lower back isn't all that healthy so lying on the floor is almost torture for me.

Anyway, I watched the movie until it ended and changed the channel to watch "The Associate" with Whoopi Goldberg. I only pick movies I've already seen so if I fall asleep during them I won't miss anything. So I watched that movie until around 4:30 until I felt tired enough to actually sleep. I turned off the TV and tried to get some rest for the third time. I had just fallen asleep when I heard footsteps on the stairs - again.

This time it was Zach coming up the stairs telling me he was scared to sleep downstairs by himself. He's nine and has had a lot of unpleasantries in his young life so I don't really blame him. I invited him to sleep on the floor next to me and he gladly accepted the invitation. My back was already in some serious pain from lying on the floor so I had to keep readjusting to try to get comfortable and Zach takes up a lot of room. Once he lay down next to me he took up all of my readjust space so I could barely move.

I finally fell asleep for the final time somewhere around 5:30 but had to get up at 8:00 to get the girls up so I could put Dolly's friend up, dressed, fed, and on the bus to the local church. I actually woke up at 6:45 but was in such pain I couldn't sit up. I had to, very slowly, roll myself to my stomach to push up to my knees, to finally be able to stand. And I was exhausted from having about four hours of sleep all night. I was not a happy camper.

Needless to say, I didn't do much of anything at all today. Every time I sat on the couch to watch TV with the kids I started to fall asleep. Later in the day Dolly and I were in my room watching TV and I fell asleep in about five minutes, but only for an hour that was interrupted constantly. I finally just got up when my friend called on the phone and I made dinner, had the kids take showers, and I'm actually in my room, sitting in my bed as I type this. I'm always here when I blog but it's only 8:50 right now and I've been up here for half-an-hour already.

I just wanted to check in with whatever readers I have out there; it's been a week since I've signed on. My apologies, been pretty busy. But I also wanted to get comfy in my bed tonight as soon as I possibly could. I'm betting I'll be asleep within the hour and I can't wait. Bedtime is my favorite time of day, getting all snuggly under the covers...aaaahhh. With luck I'll have something more interesting to discuss next time but for now I'm signing off before I fall asleep sitting up. :)

Until next time...peace to all.

I Know You're An Idiot; No Need to Broadcast It

I'm trying to figure out if I'm the only one in a group of my friends and peers who's grown up. It seems like every weekend, and occasionally during the week, many of my friends are bragging about the plans they have to go out and get drunk. Seriously?

No, I'm not jealous; I couldn't care less about going out every weekend. I'm really more of a homebody and prefer to sit in the comforts of my own living room. I also drink - occasionally. And when I do drink it's vodka and whatever juice I have in the house: a big 32oz tumbler filled with crushed ice, a shot of vodka in the bottom, and the rest filled with juice. It's just enough to help me relax a little bit; and I generally only have one drink because it takes me a while to drink it.

My friends, however, seem to take pride in the fact that they go out every, or every other, weekend just for the purpose of getting drunk with their friends. That's what you did in high school; haven't you outgrown it yet? Then you complain the next day about how crappy you feel. Well DUH!!! How did you expect to feel? It just doesn't make sense to me; not when anyone gets drunk for sport, but especially when adults with children do it.

See, I could drink to get drunk if I wanted to but I can't stand the hungover feeling. Yes, I've gotten drunk before, when I was much younger, and it wasn't a habit. I also don't get drunk because I have kids to take care of; they're a helluva lot more important than me overindulging in alcohol for the evening. If there's an emergency with one of them and I'm drunk, I'm screwed because I can't drive to an ER. If one of my kids gets sick and needs me but I'm too drunk to help, or even passed out, what happens then?

My friends who do go out and get drunk on the weekends have kids. Some of them have older kids who could, if the need arose, fend for themselves. Other friends have children who are younger than my own; they certainly can't take care of themselves. What does a drunk parent do when a child needs assistance? And regardless of age, what does a child do if something happens to a drunk parent? Never thought of that, did you?

I completely understand the need to get out every now and again, to get a break from the grind of the household and the kids; but does it have to be every weekend and does it always have to involve alcoholic beverages? Can't you find something to do where you're actually behaving responsibly, and keeping in the forefront of your mind the young charges you have waiting for you at home, who are counting on Mom or Dad making it home safely?

People are free to do as they please, and to behave as they see fit; I just really can't stand reading all the Facebook posts from people who brag about getting drunk, then bitch about feeling like shit, and complain because "the kids won't let mommy take a nap." Fuck you! It's time to grow up and realize that your days of being irresponsible with your friends are long gone; you have children to raise and a positive example to set for them.

If you can't understand that, or if you just don't care, then keep doing what you're doing but learn to shut up about it because it's making me sick. You want to act like a jackass then deal with the consequences of it. Just don't expect me to ask you how much fun you had or to feel sorry for you when you overdo it - again.

Until next time...peace to all.

Everything Does Happen for a Reason

I was talking to a friend from LI today who told me about an incident regarding her son who attends college in PA. This past weekend he and his friend decided, out of the blue, to visit LI and drove their respective cars. While they were in NY were decided to have their cars inspected because both were coming due. The friend's car passed inspection but the son's didn't because the power steering pump was leaking.

My friend, D, told her son to leave the car with her and she'd get it repaired and inspected. Her son and his friend are returning to LI this coming weekend for a planned event so he can easily pick up his car then. He was undecided at first but then just decided to leave it with D and return to PA with his friend. D called her mechanic who picked up the car and as he was driving back to the station the power steering pump completely failed. Had D's son chosen not to leave the car he would have been driving it on the highway when the steering went, which could have caused serious problems.

On a different note, my ex-husband's uncle died earlier this weekend but my ex, Paul, couldn't get bereavement time from his job to fly back to NY to attend the funeral. His boss said they only allot time for immediate family; it sucks because Paul's uncle had a hand in raising him. They were close in age and very close growing up; they were best friends. In any case, Paul is still here, upset about not being allowed to be with his family right now.

What's interesting is that today he received a phone call from the manager at the apartment complex where he's trying to get his own place. He's been staying with the kids and me while making payments on the deposit he has to give them to get his into his apartment. The manager told him that if he gives her $400 tomorrow she can get him into his apartment in two weeks, or sooner if it's completed before then. Had he been permitted to attend the funeral Paul would have had to pay that money to a friend who was going to lend him the money for a plane ticket to get to NY.

Why am I telling you two completely unrelated stories? Good question. I tell people all the time not to stress over their issues because everything happens for a reason. Most people get sick of hearing it but they never stop to look at the details. I do. Go back and read the two stories I just told you and maybe you'll understand what I mean.

D's son "suddenly" decided to go to LI last weekend for a visit and to get his car inspected. Then he "suddenly" decided to leave the car with D so she could have it fixed rather than him driving it back to PA. The car was in the hands of the right person at the right time when the power steering pump failed. Paul's boss wouldn't let him go the funeral so Paul now has the money to get his own place sooner rather than later. Do you see how things happen for a reason? It's because the Universe, or God as some of you may say, wanted them to happen that way.

There may be no rhyme or reason to events as we see them unfold, and we may not always like what's happening at the time, but when we put all the pieces together we can often find an order to everything. That's why I really try not to stress over anything; I know that, even if it doesn't make sense to me now, it will make sense somewhere down the road. More people just need to understand that everything happens for a reason, and everything always works out the way it's supposed to. Why? Because it does.

Until next time...peace to all.

I'm Laughing Again, I Can't Help It

On June 11, 2010 I posted with the title “I Love to Laugh.” In that post I talked about my friend Joe and how we belly laugh at some of our conversations. Tonight we had another like that. We laughed so hard neither of us could really speak over the phone and our stomachs hurt; and it started with something incredibly simple.

He’d just made two pb&j sandwiches on potato rolls because he wanted a snack and he wanted another but was too lazy to open a new jar of peanut butter. Why? Because he can’t get the foil top off of it in one smooth move and didn’t want to have to fight with it. I can understand that because it happens to me all the time. You know what I mean. You take the plastic lid off a new jar and there’s that foil top glued to the rim of the jar, and when you grab one of the tiny tabs on it and try to pull it off it rips in half.

Then you have to put your finger underneath it, risking running your finger through the peanut butter, just to get some leverage on the foil to get the rest of it to come off. It sometimes takes me four tries to get the entire thing off the jar. And peanut butter isn’t the only thing it happens with, either. It happened with ketchup the other night, only I didn’t realize it. I’d pulled the foil off a new bottle and put it on the table for the kids. Suddenly Ty was standing by the garbage pail pulling at the top of the bottle so I asked him what he was doing because I’d already pulled the foil off. He said the foil was off but I didn’t get the plastic off so the ketchup wouldn’t come out. Dontcha just hate it when that happens?

Anyway, that conversation with Joe led to another one involving the first sheet of toilet paper not coming off the roll. For whatever the reason the company glues down the first sheet so you have to rip and tear at it just to get the roll started. Either that or half the top sheet comes off easily and tears all the way around the roll so all you have is a long strip of toilet paper to use. Then you have to go back and start at the beginning again. If that happens I usually just run my finger underneath the first sheet to get it to come loose so I don’t have to waste half the roll.

He said he’s just glad he can buy the kind he likes now. His wife moved out a couple of months ago so he doesn’t have to deal with the three-ply soft tissue that she insisted on buying; the kind where the roll is gone in a day. He buys Scott so it’ll last him longer; it’s just him and his son in the house now so he doesn’t have to monitor the toilet paper the way he used to when she lived there. He won’t give me his son’s cell number, though, so I can ask him how many sheets he uses at a time, or whether he bunches it or folds it. I wonder why…

That conversation led to him bringing up the problem of toilet paper being too thin or balling up in little pieces on your butt when you wipe. Don’t say it’s never happened to you because I know it has; it happens to everyone at some point in time. I’m not going to go into the detail that he did, though, you’ll just have to use your imagination for that. I don’t want to gross you out over this but you can probably understand why we were laughing so hard.

I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time but it felt good, sort of. My stomach hurt, I could barely breathe, and I had tears running down my face. It also gave me my blog topic for the night. It’s fun to discuss silly thing occasionally without having to worry that someone will get offended or disgusted. It’s life people, shit happens – sometimes literally – and there’s nothing wrong with laughing at life’s little issues. Hell, I laugh at life’s big issues, but you get my meaning.

If I’ve offended you with this post that’s your problem because you allowed my words to offend you; if I didn’t offend you, perhaps I gave you some things to think and laugh about tonight. Maybe you’ll even come up with your own issues to discuss with your friends. If not, borrow mine; I don’t mind. If you can’t think of anything else just let me know, I’ve got lots of crap to think about just for the purposes of making people laugh. We all need to laugh; try it, it’ll make you feel better.

Until next time…peace to all.

 

Dizzy is as Dizzy Does

One of the residents at the shelter popped into my head today and I don't know why so I'm going to tell you about her. Now, I don't usually get shocked or surprised by too much at all; I generally just take things as they come and write them off as human nature. This girl, though, was a little...no, a lot...odd; I'll call her J.

J lived in a room on the upper level with her daughter and I've mentioned her before. She's the one who talked to me when she first got to the shelter telling me she'd heard about me; said she'd heard I thought I owned the place and all that. She hung out with Cathy and Marcy most of the time so I didn't really pay much attention to her but when she was alone it was hard not to pay attention to her. She was really weird.

L and I could be talking and J would just walk up to us and start talking about her boyfriend and how she was going to make him buy her a laptop for her birthday; or she'd tell us about her family's cigarette business out on the reservation. It's not weird conversation mind you, just really odd the way she'd bring it up out of the blue.

When we'd respond to her J would just stand and stare at us like she was looking right through us, like she was suddenly not there in mind at all. She'd stand with her cigarette in her hand and a smile on her face just saying "uh huh" while she nodded. Then she'd just suddenly walk away in the middle of the conversation. I wasn't the only one who noticed, either; J was a great source of amusement for those of us who weren't with her a lot.

One day I walked into the kitchen to get something and Marcy was in there with J. J wanted to make a box of au gratin potatoes for her daughter but didn't know how. I didn't see how difficult it was considering the directions are on the box. Anyway, Marcy just looked at me with that knowing look; her eyes said, "This chick is a dizbo," and it took all my energy not to laugh out loud. I took the box from J and showed her where the directions were on the box. She was amazed.

I read them with her and even told her how to make them. She didn't like the fact that she had to add milk because her baby couldn't eat dairy. She decided to use water instead. Um, yuck; but, whatever. Then she said she didn't know how to measure out the water because there was supposed to be a cup or so of milk. I reached in the drawer and pulled out the measuring cup that was there for anyone to use. J almost fell over; she'd seen it before but had no clue what it was used for. Seriously? Marcy was staring in awe, biting her lip to keep from laughing. She even commented that she might have to take it with her when she left the shelter - she was planning on moving back with her family at the end of the week.

I shook my head and got J squared away with the directions for the potatoes; and she was so excited that she was actually going to cook something. She looked like she was going to jump for joy. I had to leave before I laughed in her face. I gave one last glance at Marcy and was on my way, out to the yard to clear my head of the stupidity I'd just witnessed. I don't know how the potatoes turned out and I didn't care, I was just glad to be done with her.

Later in the week, after she'd left, Marcy and I looked in her room. I don't know if you remember, or if I've even told you, that we had a bad mouse problem in the shelter; mice everywhere. We found out why. J's room had food all over the place: half-empty snack packages she'd given to her daughter who'd spilled them and left them on the floor, juice boxes that had been stepped on and left to dry on the floor, and loads of other things. Not to mention the fact that she'd been smoking in her room and had left cups filled with water and cigarette butts. That had nothing to do with the mice, it was just disgusting.

We also noticed that she'd cut the cord to the lamp in the room. I'm not kidding. The lamps we had were attached to the wall and the cord hung down to the outlet. She'd actually plugged out the lamp and cut the cord off about six inches from the bottom. We were dumbfounded. And to make matters worse, or rather, to add to the humor of it all, I went into the kitchen to make dinner and went looking for the measuring cup. It was gone. I kid you not. She'd actually taken it with her. Marcy, L, and I busted out laughing and couldn't stop. Holy shit.

J was one of the oddest people I've ever met in my life. I feel bad for her daughter having to grow up with a mother who's such a ditz. Maybe it was just an act, I don't know and will never know for sure. I do know that, while she was a resident at PRD, I got a lot of pleasure out of just watching her and talking to her. I know it's not nice to laugh at people but if you'd met her you'd have laughed too. There was no way not to; she was the epitome of an airhead, almost in the literal sense.

Until next time...peace to all.