It amazes me still why I never married that man.

So, TBF won the lottery. I know, you are saying "There is no God." So you think maybe he spread the wealth to his son? Not a freakin' chance.

The Boys coworkers from TBF's shop looked upon him in pity and said, "Dude, too bad yer mom didn't win." Even they knew he wouldn't see a dime.

So today the boy is 23. I could not be more proud of him and took him yesterday to buy new work clothes and boots. TBF says to him, "New gear? What's the occasion?"  Mind like a steel trap, that one.

Quick thinker that he is, he sends his daughter to MacDonalds to pick up lunch and as a birthday honor, he allows The Boy first pick from the assortment of cookies. 

The man is generous to a fault.

UPDATE: New Information: Turns out the daughter bought lunch, TBF didn't even pay for the cookies. Pitiful.

Where to begin?

How did I end up here? Living in butt-fuck-nowhere in a trailer with my sister?

Many planets aligned to make this happen. I was living alone, happily (despite my rednecked neighbors)in a two bedroom apartment in our little town. My sister was living not so happily alone in a trailer in butt-fuck-nowhere and working away on a ridiculously well paying job in another province. The Boy was living with his father and enjoying making his father and step monster miserable with his mere presence in their home.

All was right with the world.

The Boy is still living with his father and experiencing the joy of living there only because it makes them miserable. Not really a tough job since everything seems to make TBF and the step monster miserable. They have refined it to an art. However, The Sister and I became another story.

First The Sister's job came to an end and her unemployment insurance was soon to follow. She asked me a couple of times if I would consider moving in with her. She owned her own home, so there would be no rent and two incomes would be better than one. Sounded good, but I was enjoying living alone for the first time in forever. I had already converted (somewhat) the boys room into an exercise room. I had my home the way I liked it I was livin' (in my opinion) the dream.

The second set of rednecks (brother of the first) that lived below me were preparing to move and I was told by the landlord that(for the new tenant) he would be fishing from a different gene pool. That being said, I was very surprised to find the younger brother of the previous two tenants moving in one day. Give me strength!

Let me give you just a brief rundown of the first two. Sister redneck was the first. She and her 'husband' had triplets and stole the bed I had in stored in the barn and used it for two years. I thought someone stole it from the barn but when they moved out, thankfully, they left it behind.

The next to move in was the brother. He had two children and as many derelict cars in the driveway. None of his friends could grasp the concept of not blocking me in the three car wide driveway. No matter when they arrived, day or night when given the option of who to park behind, it was always me. Fuckin' maddening. Also when given the option of where on the property to set up their fireworks display they inveritably chose six inches from the front bumper of my car. (no matter where it was parked)

This is just a drop in the bucket as to what I had to deal with. I could go on but I won't. So you may understand why my heart sank when I saw the third installment moving in. But hey, I thought, this may not be as bad as I think.

Wrong. This is turning into a long drawn out post but it has to be said. First problem...they had a dog. A puppy, really. Keep in mind that I work from home. As far as I could tell, neither of the two people that moved in seemed to have a job so I wasn't concerned about the dog to start with. However, the first time they left it at home alone, he lost his mind.



I mention that this is unacceptable and that he can't leave the dog inside alone because I work from home and can't work with the dog howling. His solution? Leave him outside...alone. Guess what? He still howled. So I head down to leave a note on his door that his solution does not work when the little shit comes in the drive. "Dude, you can't leave the dog tied up."

He tries to ignore me. "You said I can't keep him inside so I put him out." and starts to get back in the car.

"In or out, he howls."

"Well I can't take him with me everywhere."

"Then I guess you can't have a dog then."

"Yes I can."

"Actually, no you can't. You can't have a dog in city limits if it disturbs the fucking peace and it is disturbing my fucking peace."

"Whatever." and he gets into the car and drives away.

THAT IS FUCKIN' IT! This was not a one day thing, and I had experience with this particular gene pool before so I knew how this was not going to be an easy road.

I called my sister, "You still want to live together?"

"Are you sure?"

"Question is, are you sure. I know I can deal with you, but you need to be sure you can deal with me."

"I can deal, but I don't think you mean it."

"As soon as we hang up, I am ordering a dumpster."

And that was it. Decision made, I phoned the landlord and gave notice.

I am a friend of Bill.

I believe my crazy addiction faze has run its course.

I don't usually succumb to those sorts of all-consuming activities. Well not since my 36hour HTML coding marathon. I was surfing the net, way back when, and thought I should try this HTML shit. I bought a book and sat at the keyboard for almost 36 hours straight, I think I napped a couple times but it was like as soon as I got to sleep my mind would work out the problem I was having spacing the tables correctly and I would snap awake and have to go right back to the computer.

I guess it happens at the beginning of anything interesting for me. I can't seem to find a happy medium. When the FarmTown thing started winding down, meaning I had the biggest farm I was ever gonna have and more money than I could spend, I started looking at other things that I could do to fill the time between harvests. I dabbled in YoVille and BarnBuddies, but I think I am over it now.

So, what has been happening around me while I was single-mindedly tending to my fake life online?

Well, The Boy got a car, you knew that. But he has yet to move back with his father. Don't get me wrong, I love The Boy, but I was living the life while he was gone. My house was never more dirty than I made it. There was no obstacle course on the way to anywhere (ie: towels, socks, clothes, shoes). There was always something to drink when I opened the fridge and I was never surprised with an empty carton of ice cream.

While he was gone for that year, my power bills were cut in half and now I know why. The washer and dryer have never stopped since he walked back in. He takes two showers a day and has to make sure the bathroom is full of steam (nice and warm) before he even steps foot in it.

He never says where he is going or where he has been and forgets to say 'luv ya' now when we part company. He won't take the garbage out or clean a dish or even just pick up after himself. He goes to school when he feels like it and takes a fit if you say anything about it. And he lies! I am not sure why, but he lies about everything, stupid things that don't even make any sense to lie about. It's almost pathological.

I have figured it out, seems that the person he is living with is the person he shits on.

I fixed his wagon as far as school is concerned. If he misses one more day this year, I will have his father cancel the insurance on his car. No exceptions!

So, I am just waiting for TBF to get his shit together and get his house built so the boy can move back. Hopefully I will not be wiped out financially by then.

The Boy has a plan.

This plan might work and would most definitely work if not for one thing. The Boy's Father.

The Boy is jones'in over this car.


Most likely strictly because of these rims.


His plan? To have TBF co-sign a loan for him to purchase this car. Twenty-five hundred bucks, you're thinking, not a big deal, especially for a guy that just bought a Porsche for cash, right?. For any other father out there, probably wouldn't be a big deal, but I don't think The Boy should hold his breath.

I wish he had seen this car before I spent the income tax refund, I would have bought it for him. I fear that this is as close as he is going to get to this car if TBF has anything to say about it. Somehow when it comes to The Boy, TBF is loathe to part with a quarter. I have no idea why that is, but it is.

Interesting convo with TBF (via text messaging)

The Boy's Father has learned to text message. Which is great, since I can actually have an argument with him and he can't hang up on me. That is the most infuriating thing, he says something and hangs up. Maddening.

Any-whoo, The Boy taught him how to text message. Last night he was at work and wanted me to text his father and ask him to leave $10 on the counter for a cab home. So I did.

TBF did not respond so I was worried he wouldn't have a way home, so on my way to bring Sister some ice cream I stop by his work and give him a 20.

Around 3am I get a text message from TBF.

He got a drive and still took my money.

Oh Boo fuckin hoo! This man is so cheap he squeaks. So I text him back.

Well tell him u cant aford 2 b doing that. after all u need that money 2 have the Porsche detailed or your girlfriends $18000 ring cleaned - kids

To which he replied:

You can ho fuck yourself.

And then:

Maybe we should look at send ing him back because there some problems that are really getting bigger by the day

Ya, he is expecting you to act like a father and not a landlord. So I reply.

I ask him every day why he is there, after all you make him feel sooooo welcome and loved.

I know that none of this gets through to you, but you make him feel like you really don't like him at all. You make him pay you back $10 then park a luxury automobile in the driveway.

You make a point of showing him the reciept for a very expensive ring, then proceed to NOT give him anything for his birthday? Do you not get how that looks? Are you really that thick?

Why not give him a break, he is not a tenth as bad as you were when you were his age, give him some credit.

I get no real reply to this and I don't really expect one. TBF is a thick as a brick moron who can't see what he is doing. He acts like the boy is a drug czar or something, everything he does is suspect.

Point of fact, the other night he was given the truck (rare) so he could go visit his girlfriend. When he got there he picked up his girlfriend and he took her to Wendy's. TBF freaked. How did he know The Boy went to Wendy's?

Because he FOLLOWED him. I kid you not! Had a big screaming match in the parking lot, told The Boy that he would 'kill' him. No word of a lie.

I know what you are thinking and I can't believe I slept with that man either.

Will he 'end up' like me?

SUBTITLE: Another crayon conversation with TBF.

The Boys father called me this morning at 7:30am. He has been calling a lot lately. Where is The Boy? Did he go to school, was he really at work? What is he doing with all his money? He lives with you, why don't you fuckin' ask him?

I know the boy has been trying to save up for an iPod Touch. But was foiled recently when he had to use that money to buy hockey gear. (Gear his father should have paid for, but was conveniently out of town and unable to purchase.)The Boy was defeated.

I had to giggle at the 'all his money' question. He works at Wendy's he might make $150 a week, if he is lucky. And since getting the job his father won't even give him 5 bucks for his ice time for hockey. 'All his money' is what he is living on.

So this morning, he finds a business card from the Cash Store (payday loans) on the bathroom floor. He calls me and goes ballistic, "If I catch him at that place I will rip his head off. "

"What the hell are you on about?" I didn't hear much of his ramblings, except for the last part.

"I don't want him to end up like you!" And then of course he hangs up. One of the many reasons we are no longer together, he doesn't fight. He is more of a hit and run kinda asshole.

I am not completely sure what he meant by that, or how he imagines I ended up.

Luckily we live in the 21st century so I get out my mobile phone. And text him.

End up like me? Just remember that YOU are the common denominator in this scenario, Asshole!

No reply.

As long as he doesn't meet some asshole and have to try and figure out how to raise a child ALL BY HIMSELF, he should be fine.

Still nothing

And what exactly are you doing about it? Except treating him the same way you treated me? We'll be lucky if he doesn't turn out like you.

The man is lucky he was not standing in front of me, I would have dropped him like a rock.

Turns out The Boy needed something to write a confirmation code on, he had ordered a meal at Swiss Chalet. TBF will be disappointed that there was no cloak or daggers involved. Sometimes I wonder what I ever saw in him. Wait, now I remember, it was the car.

They say it takes a village? Well my sister is the Queen of that village. She heard about the boy having to spend his money on hockey gear and promptly ordered an iPod touch for The Boy. It will be here in a few days. She wanted to have it engraved 'Because your father is a prick' but I went with 'Love Aunt Adah'. I think the prick thing is implied.

TBF wouldn't even think of lifting a finger for anyone, ever. Unless, of course, there was something in it for him.

That is the difference in the gene pool between our family and TBF's. I am sorry I ever swam in the shallow end of his.

Eyes rolling.

I was waiting outside for Bunnie to pick me up to go for groceries.

TBF did a drive-by in the Porsche. Gave me a salute.

He is just that cool.

Another ride in the pork truck.

The Boys Father just purchased his midlife crisis car. A Porsche Cayman S.

More than ten years ago TBF bought his first Porsche from my sisters husband. It was a 911, not all that impressive. But I have to say this new one is pretty.

Back then The Boy was still talking like he was from Jersey. You know how all small kids have that Jersey accent?

Well he was all excited cuz his dad was taking him for a ride in the 'pork truck'.

Gosh he was cute when he was small.

Would you like fries with that?

The Boy is finally gainfully employed at an Undisclosed Waaaay Better Than Fast Food Establishment™. Uh Huh. That's right.

He is also still living at his father's and, so far, they are cohabitating nicely. They did try this once or twice before and it didn't work out. But I hope this time it will.

I understand why The Boy wants to live there. TBF lives closer to all his friends and he has nicer stuff (new cars, house, etc). He has always had nicer stuff, but he seems more willing to share now.

And TBF thinks he is getting away with something since he doesn't have to pay me child support. Little does he know, it cost a hell of a lot more than a hundred bucks a week to keep The Boy. All he cares about is that it as money he doesn't have to give me.

Between feeding him and putting gas in the car, not to mention five dollars here and ten dollars there, I am seriously ahead money since he left.

But lets keep that just between us.

He's back!

So, The Boy has been home for a week. When I say home, I mean he is back in Nova Scotia, but since I am car-less, he is avoiding this place like the plague. He has been staying with his father until we get the car fixed. It's taking longer than expected since we have been having some shitty weather and the guy who is fixing the car has to work on it outside. It SNOWED last night. WTF?

I expected a huge story to go with the early return, but there wasn't one. Seems that they only intended to stay a week, just didn't feel like relaying that info to The Boy. Probably since if they had told him he would spend most of his time driving, he may have reconsidered the whole trip.

Even though he is back in town I still had the house to myself for the last two weeks. It has been wondrous, even without a car. The place is always clean and there is no one around to complain. Well, except for the cats. And The Boy finally got an interview for a job at a local fast food joint, so he could be employed soon. That will save me some money since gas went up to $1.26 a litre.

Now I am just starting to get bored. The house is clean, the dishes are done, there is nothing on tv. What to do?

I think I might take the vacuum cleaner apart...its making a funny noise.

You know you are bored when...

Man of few words.(no idea where he gets that from)

While The Boy is gone, I get sporadic emails. The trip was supposed to be from April 9th to the 25th.

I was wondering how he was going to manage being with 'the family' for that long but he was gung-ho about it.

I also worried about him driving through the states. I am sure you are all really nice people but I have CNN and I am programed to think you are all crazy psycho axe-murderers, don't blame me.

I told the boy, please when you stop for the night, just drop me a line so I know you are not chopped up and stuffed in the trunk of some car. For the most part he did and I was thankful for it.

I figured once he arrived in Florida I would not hear from him as often because, I would hope, he was having too much fun.

These are the emails I get from Florida:

April 12- I ask him if he is having fun and that I hope he is taking a lot of pictures.

yep ive been takin some pictures but dad dont got the drivers for his cam on here so ill show them to you when i get back

April 13- I tell him that Sammy misses him and that the school's automated system keeps calling to inform me that he is skipping school.

i told my teahcers you told them i was goin away
yull have to call them back and tell them to fuck off

April 14- I email him, since he is already sitting at the computer he could give me a little more info about what he is doing, I can't tell if he is having a decent time or not. Did he get my email about Sammy?

yeah i got the email about samy thats funny

went to universal today and it sucked i cant stand being around (his little brother) he getting on my nerves

I get nothing for a day, I figure he is busy having fun. Then this.

April 16-

find me a fuckin plane ticket home (with a little angry emoticon added to the end)

Now what? I email back, but get no more response. Then just about half an hour ago, I get a call.

It's The Boy, he is in Georgia.

"What do you mean, you're in Georgia?" At first I thought he fucked off hitch-hiking or some foolish thing.

"We are on our way home." Thank god he said 'we'.

"Why what happened?"

"Nothing, we are just on our way home."

"But you weren't supposed to be home for another week, something must have happened."

"Dad wanted to leave early, says traffic is bad in New York on the weekend."

Ya, right. Cut your Florida vacation by a week, to avoid weekend traffic in New York? Except wouldn't his present course put him in New York for the weekend?

I am sure in TBF's mind it makes perfect sense.

Day two of the road trip.

Told the boy to call me when they stopped for the night. But of course he didn't. But did get an email.

"hey mom im not dead !!:P


we jus passed new jersey and headin for philidalphia. cant get on messener but i can email
when we get to florida ill be talkin to you on msn

lova ya byeee"

White Horse - False peace.

The Boy's Father has again begun to freak me out. I would say that over the last few weeks we have had a half dozen civil conversations. One day he even joked around with me. It makes me very uneasy.

There has got to be a rift in the space time continuum. Even though I left him 16 years ago, TBF usually acts like I punched him in the face yesterday. This niceness seems like one of the signs of the apocalypse.

I was discussing it with Bunnie the other night. I was telling her about The Boy driving me crazy with the car and his weekly bitch fest about where we live. (away from all his loser friends) He has been impossible to live with. Then I mention the uneasiness that TBF is causing. She knows TBF, so she understands why I would be suspicious.

"What do you think he is up to?"

"I'm hoping he's trying for custody."

I have a better chance of getting struck by lightning. In my living room.

Time well spent.

I spent the weekend transferring my old VHS tapes to DVD. I didn't realize how easy it would be, but Yvette was right. Even I could not screw it up. Well, not completely anyway. Still can't figure out how to get the picture bigger. Could be how I converted it. But I will worry about that later.

So, for your viewing pleasure, here is a bit of video from my stay at a luxurious hotel in Bridgewater, circa 1988. The Boy's Father took me to all the best places. There is some narration, although you might blow your speakers trying to hear it.



They had a couple girls staying there who rented by the hour. That says it all.

Oh, looks like there is a shot of TBF at the end of this, I thought I had cut that. He is in the process of shaving his mustache. Anyone know of an easier program to edit video than Windows Movie Maker?

Suggestions welcome.

Guitar Number Four.

The Boy worked a couple of days for his father and has put his 'hard earned' money on a new guitar.

This will bring the guitar count to four but this will be the first acoustic/electric. He has never taken a lesson before, he always just taught himself. But now he wants to learn classical guitar, thus the acoustic.

Prepare yourself to be awed and amazed. Here she is!

The Cort SFX1F NS has a Solid Sikta Spruce Top, Venetian Cutaway, Mahogany Arch Back, Dovetail Neck Joint, Mahogany Sides, Rosewood Fingerboard, Satin Finish, Fishman Classic 4 Electronics

I share this description with you because I must commit it to memory and be suitable impressed and awed when he shows me the picture over and over and over and over. If I can not pull off the 'holy fuck that is the nicest guitar I have ever seen' then he will torture me with more pictures. More detailed pictures. Explain to me why I must be in complete awe of this guitar.

He only put it on lay-away today. This means unending torture for me until he gets it out of lay-away. He will talk about it, show me pictures and talk about it some more. He will try and figure out ways to get it sooner. He will plot and scheme. This will be the only discussion going on in my home until the stupid fucking guitar is in his possession.

And all the while there will be this underlying theme that it is somehow all my fault that he does not have it right now. He will blame me, for what? I don't know. Not sleeping with a richer guy? But he will not ask his father for one more red cent. It is not how The Boy works.

He will hound me, the one who lives paycheck to paycheck. The guy with 3 houses and as many cars, who owns his own business (building bridges for fuck sakes) gets off scott free, he would never dream of bothering TBF for some extra cash.

That is just not done.

55 Years!

I hadn't realized it had been kickin' for so long. All I knew is that it had been there for as long as I could remember.



There were 6 of us kids, in a station wagon. I couldn't say for sure if they took us all at once, but I remember dressing in our PJ's and taking a blanket and a pillow and heading for the car. Off to the drive-in. Mom would pack a lunch and dad would pick up the pepsi on the way.

Back then the speakers were on a pole. Large steel speakers that weighed a ton. And inevitably one person would drive away with it stuck in their window. If they were lucky the cord would break and not the glass.

The music isn't quite right on this one, but it is the same movie I remember. Well, everything before 2:37 anyway. Ours just repeated after that. We didn't get any of the other shit.



They actually tried to take it away a few times, one time it was kittens and puppies, not sure what the hell they were thinking. Anyhow, people expected to see this intermission show and enough people complained so they brought it back.

I remember being at the drive-in with The Boy's Father. We were baked, car filled with smoke, watching the intermission show in silence. Until TBF pipes up, dead serious, "That is one talented hot dog."

I know. And that was before I was even sleeping with him.

I get no respect.

This is what I bought the Boy for his birthday. It was what he really wanted. For those of you not in the know, this is a Dunlop CryBaby pedal. Also known as a Wha Wha pedal, as that is the sound it makes. It cost me the better part of 200 bucks. And he got it early, cuz he just had to have it.

Thanks Mom. That's it.

The Boy's Father, on the other hand, dragged his feet for a week after the Boy's birthday cuz, you know, the date snuck up on him. Not like he was fucking there or anything. Someone should have reminded him of his first-born's date of birth. I call and leave a message for him, maybe he has no idea what to buy him. I let him know that the Boy's monitor died, a new one would come in pretty handy.

THE BOY: "Mom, he just hasn't gotten paid yet. Give him a break." Bare in mind that TBF makes 4 times as much money as me.

Maybe he is planning something big? The Boy turns 16 after all. And TBF has 3 cars. See where my mind was going with that? I don't know, I must have had an aneurysm or something. TBF does not have a thoughtful bone in his body. The boy informs me that his father is looking at getting him a new monitor and a cell phone on his plan. (The boy already has a cell, but whatever, its his money.)

Anyway, a week late he picks up the Boy he says he is going to the city to shop. He apparently finally got paid. Later the boy comes home holding a mega-pack of socks. Ya, that is not a typo.

I give him the 'what the fuck' face. "Is that it?"

"No."

"Well thank God."

He reaches into his pocket and triumphantly holds up....a hundred bucks.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You couldn't find anything when you were shopping?"

"I didn't go. I was babysitting my brother."

I don't remember much of the conversation from there. You see, I lost my mind at that point since the Boy continued to defend him. Something he would never do for me.

The Boy, his Boy, his first born turns 16 and he gets a lousy 100 bucks and 6 pairs of socks from a man driving a 70,000 dollar truck (one of three vehicles he owns) with GPS and satellite radio. The man owns a steel fabrication shop, he builds bridges for fuck sakes. And he has the nerve to make his son babysit while he goes off and DOES NOT shop for him.

I know what you are thinking and I can't believe I slept with him either.

Memories.

I had company last night, Mary and Doug. They visit me once a year and it always brings back great memories.

Back before my son was born we lived in Aspen (not Colorado), a very small rural community. Lots of lakes and cottages. Doug had a �camp� on the lake (men call them camps) behind our house. In a community like Aspen, everyone �visits�, that�s what you do because there is nothing much else going on. Unless of course someone is getting married and they open up the rifle range for the reception.

Anyway, we spent a lot of time at the camp. Sitting around the campfire while Ivan, my son�s godfather, played the spoons and sang. Or sitting around the woodstove drinking and telling stories while the boys cooked deer steak and boiled corn. Even when I was pregnant, I would haul my humongous ass down the dirt road to the camp and swim in the lake.

That camp was the reason I was pregnant in the first place. Once when we were sitting on the bank of the lake, throwing rocks into the lake for the dog ,Cooter, to retrieve (that dog would retrieve anything, from sun up to sun down) a boat pulled up. It was an older man from across the lake. He had his grandson with him who was about 5 years old. He was all decked our for fishing, little hip waders, fishing vest and even a hat with fish hooks on it. He was the most adorable thing you have ever seen. Later that evening around the campfire my �ex� and his brother-in-law were 10 sheets to the wind,

The ex, in tears - �I wish I had a little fella to take fishin.�

He went on and on about what he would do with a �little fella� of his own. Ball games, fishing, and camping. Well I held him off for a while, made him jump through a few hoops (�not till we have a house� that sort of thing) thinking he would give up on the idea. I wasn�t all that anxious to give up my partying days quite yet. During this time my friend had been trying to get pregnant for 2 years, so, with that thought running through my head, I agreed. After all, it wouldn�t happen right away, right? It was taking my friend all this time to conceive, and maybe if we were trying, it would get the ex off my back. Perhaps he would get it out of his system.

Well I guess you see where this is going. From the minute we stopped using protection it took about a week for me to get pregnant. I had my son, and 8 months after that (long, long story short) I left the ex and never looked back. It has been just my son and I for the last 12 years. And the only good thing about the ex, is that he talked me into having him. I couldn�t imagine life without my son now. We have a ball together.

You want to take a guess on how many times my ex has taken his son fishing? Exactly once. He has never taken him to a ball game, and has only ever shown up for my sons ball game twice. (and incidentally he never got out of the car) My son has been in hockey for two years, the first year his father (and I use the term loosely) showed up for one game and one practice. This year, not one game. His girlfiend, however, has been to quite a few.(go figure)

Again, I say, thank God for the BigBrother, he really picked up the slack. I can�t imagine a �father� doing more. He shows up for the ball games, hockey games and takes him to practice. He takes him to the movies, fishing, camping and just hangs out with him on the weekends.

My son still gets very upset with his father, I know it hurts him that he never shows up for anything but I know that the BigBrother makes up for a lot of that. Maybe someday (no doubt when its too late) his father will realize just how much he missed. I try to tell him how exciting it is to see his son hit a home run or score a goal on a break-a-way, but he just doesn�t get it. Oh well, it�s his loss is absolutely our gain.

Week 1�Unemployed

We are now at week one of unemployment and we are not impressed. (notice how after only a week I start to talk like royalty) I am starting to get shack wacky.

I have been emailing my resume and dropping it off in town. The local call center is �begging� for employees but so far they haven�t called. I know it has only been a week but I am getting antsy. I thought I would take this time to get some things done around the house but it hasn�t turned out that way. I would much rather surf the net than do housework. I mean, given a choice, what would you do? (if you said �housework�, you are a freak.)

I haven�t told my mother that I was let go yet. She is in her 70�s and everything upsets her so I told her I was on vacation. ;-) But I did tell her I was taking this time to look for another job, which she is all for because she knows what an asshole I was working for.

I don�t know if I mentioned this but three days before I was fired, I applied for a mortgage to buy the house that I am in now. One good thing about self employment, the bank doesn�t know when you are not working, so it is still going. It is looking good except for the old mortgage I had with the ex that might fuck me up. Since he is an asshole and let it laps a time or two.

Speaking of the asshole, he was just here picking up The Boy. I can�t believe that after 12 years, he still can�t have a civil conversation with me. I told him about the mortgage (you know, just making conversation) and he said something to the effect that it didn�t concern him and he could care less. I asked him when he expected he would be a grown up, and I could have a real conversation with him. He just looked at me and said, �you grow up�.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten and said, �I swear to god if you say �I know you are but what am I� I am going to scream.

I was hoping some day he would get over it, but it isn�t looking good. Thank God for his girlfriend, she is a sane person and I get along with her a lot better than I ever did him.

Bright side: Any time I think that maybe I might like to have a boyfriend full time, I just talk to him and it cures me of that insane idea.

Grandma in training.

The Boy has a brother and a sister. The best kind, the kind I personally didn't have to give birth to.

He doesn't see them all that often, although he sees them a whole lot more often than he sees his father. Now that his little brother Liam is a little older (he's 5 now) he comes and stays overnight. He and his brother are a lot alike. The good news is, they never act up when they are at houses that are not their own. That said, his little brother is a complete angel when he is here and I just love having him.



I have seen him in his natural habitat and I have witnessed him during a full blown fit. I looked at his mother and said,

"Oh my God, if I close my eyes, that could be Boy. You know what this means don't you? It's the 'Surname' gene."

It is nice to know that I am not the only one who gets to experience these fits. My son has one daily and since the only common denominator is his father, we can blame it all on him. ( I just love it when that happens)

But I digress, yesterday Liam came to visit. Later in the day he asked if he could stay over. He is so cute and talks like he is from Jersey, so you just can�t say no to him. So we load into the car and head over to meet his mother. She of course agrees and Liam yells,

�O day, yets doe. Det dome moobies and dunk!� (translation�Ok let�s go, get some movies and junk) He is too cute. I think half the reason he likes to come to our house is because I load him up on all the junk his mother doesn�t let him have.

One time he told me that I shouldn't buy him candy. I asked him why and he said , �duz my mom dunna let me had candy.� (I could just eat him) I look around dramatically, under the car and behind him and say, �Do you see your mother anywhere? I don�t see her.� Then he flashes me a devilish grin and we head into the store for the candy. Mind you he never eats much of it, but it�s fun anyway.

Well on the way home tonight, he mentions that he had a birthday, and I missed it. (I felt really bad, no one even mentioned it to me), �Dats oday,� he says, �you diddin no.� After a comment like that I, of course, had to take him to the mall and buy him a toy, and one for his sister since I missed her birthday too. We load up on toys, pick up some movies and junk and head home. He didn�t eat any junk and only made it through half of the movie.

This must be what it is like to have grandchildren, spoil them, load them up on sugar and then send them home.