We never really leave high school...

It's a lesson that I have learned and keep having to re learn over and over again.

The characters never change ever.  The cast yes, but never the characters.  It's rather like Whitney houston and Deborah Cox's song. Same Script; Different Cast.

Usually I play the gullible bank freak outcast that wants desperately to be friends with all the cool people at the expense of her dignity.  The one that always, always, always ends up broken and alone.

I think this time I will play the band geek that already knows the lesson and sits back as the rest of the idiots in the drama play out their parts.

So... The cast of characters:

• The wife... aka the cheerleader
• The Husband... aka that guy, the cool one that every girl wants (Or so he thinks)

Caught up?  Good.

So the band geek became friends with both Th Guy and the The Cheerleader.  In truth, she kinda liked Guy more because he told the truth all the time whether you wanted to hear it or not.  And at one point the band freak was so super horney that she actually flirted with The Guy.  But here's where the drams begins to unfold.  The Guy turned her down and eventually the Freak found what she needed (which was basically a quick fuck somewhere) and she simply settled for The Guy's friendship because as stated before she actually respected him.  Meanwhile the Freak was occasionally hanging out with the Cheerleader but the more she did, the more she realized she was the beard.  The one that covers up.  When the cheerleader wanted to go out and screw the nearest dick, she basically told people she was hanging out with the freak.  When she was truly in trouble and stranded with the dick du jour, the freak did the good friend thing and went to the rescue.

But then the cheerleader slipped up and showed her batshit crazy side.  By this point The Guy had already left and kept trying to make a break but the Cheerleader held things over him.

About a year and half passed and the Freak no longer talks to the Cheerleader but sees The Guy often.  The freak still actually respects The Guy more from getting to know him.  So she actually tells The Guy about the night that the Cheerleader was stranded at the motel with the dick du jour.  Oops!  The Guy, while claiming that he knew the shit that the Cheerleader was in, didn't actually know that.

Damn that Band Freak!

The Guy ran straight to the Cheerleader to tell her what the Band freak said and as predicted, the cheerleader cussed the Band Freak out.

End of Drama.

Screw the names and the tags.  I knew that eventually the word would get to the wife that I told.  After she put a not so veiled Fuck you on facebook, I knew that the extremely long and blown out text was coming.  I figured it would either be a text on my phone or a message on Facebook.  Whichever served the purpose.  She chose text.

OMG I was so relieved.  I could go on with my life.

Except for one thing.

SHE ACTUALLY THINKS I WANT HER HUSBAND.  THAT I WANT HER HUSBAND TO BE MINE.

That's the one thing I can't get over.  Because it seems that the both of them think this.  For some reason they both seem to think that I want a relationship with the Guy.  

The Guy has a certain charm about him.  He demands respect just by being who he is, that it true but the Guy has a serious downfall.  he thinks that women who try to be his friend only are doing so because they want a taste of the guy.  

I want a quick fuck from him in late 2014 maybe early 2015.  After that I wanted nothing but friendship.  But she's worked it up in her mind that betraying her secrets I'm trying to get her out of the picture and put myself in.

I have no words.  I really don't.  I can't for the life of me see how she has held onto this belief for so damn long.  Or how he has.  No matter how many times I go over it in my head I just don't get it.  Maybe I flirt unconsciously when I talk?  Maybe I'm too friendly with men?  Dafuq?!?

So like I said, we never leave high school.  There will always be the one that plays the part of the band freak who just wants friends.  There will always be a plastic little spastic that gets high and fucks anything that can fit in her holes.  There will always be that Guy that thinks if a female is nice to him it must be because she wants him between her legs.  The Cheerleader will always think that every woman wants her man because she is so damn insecure.

To hell with them.  To hell with them all.  Fuck it, I haven't be apart of any band in nearly twenty years so even fuck the Band freak role.  I'm just me and I think I have learned the lesson of high school never ends.

So I'm at the point where if I never speak to either of them again my life will be so awesome.  I realize that since I work with The guy, silence may be difficult but damn if I won't try.

MAn Fuck High School....

I am so very very very over today and it's JUST a quarter to six!

Why?

That's all I want to know.  Just Why?  Why is that when I FINALLY find a happy spot, circumstances have to pull me back down??

So Sunday Morning, my favorite cousin in the entire world passed away.  This was not sudden, it has been expected for awhile.  But still, she was my other mother.  The things a daughter should know that my mother didn't teach me, Floreine did.  And when I didn't learn them fast enough, she whipped me up the stairs.  Yes, you totally read that right, she whipped me up the stairs.  (See I come from a generation that got the bejesus slapped or spanked, or in my case, whipped out of them when they thought they had the right to talk to adults like they were adults when they were still kids.  Today's kids don't know anything about that because now parents get in trouble for smacking, spanking, and whipping... it's called child abuse.  No!  It's call home training and discipline!  Look it up Child protective services!  It's in the freaking Bible.  Spare the rod and spoil the child I.E. Handle that shit while they are young and they won't turn out to be turds as adults!  Sorry... tangent rant...) She was... I mean... they say that cousins are a person's first best friend in life, She was mine.  Part mother, part best friend, all cousin, and all mine.  And she's gone.  She was the one that stood up for me and took my side when I was treated unfairly and believe me I had my fair share of not being treated fairly by the family sometimes.  She was the one that stood by me and said I would get my time to shine and made sure I got it.  She had my back.  She was my Flo Cousin.

So I managed to get Mommy out on the plane yesterday and I was planning to drive out there for the funeral.  Again, this was my Flo Cousin.  I want to be there to say goodbye.  My mother decided that the 15 hour drive would be too much for me.  I don't care.  This is my Flo Cousin.  So Auntie PAt agreed it was too much BUT she offered to fly me out there.  Had it worked perfectly.  I could leave here tomorrow after work and be there by night, get up go to the funeral Thursday and then fly back.  If possible, not even miss work although everyone was cool if I missed Thursday.  My Mom decided, that I would be inconveniencing everyone if I did that.  They are two hours away from the airport so having to drive to get me and bring me to the family then having to drive to take me back the next day.  Looking at putting someone on the road for 8 hours.  Never mind that I could call a cab.  They have flat rates for airports.  Nope, nope, Claudette, you can't go and say goodbye to your favorite cousin because it would be inconvenient for everyone and just to make sure that you understand what I'm saying to you let's throw in "everyone is already down because she's gone, it's not fair to add getting you to the airport to their troubles."

So I'm not going to the funeral.  I'm going to sit here.  I'm going to work.  And on Monday I'm going to pick Mommy up from the airport.

But you want to hear something?  Something HILARIOUS??

Mom didn't want to pay upwards of $175 to kennel her cat for the week she'll be gone so guess who has to leave work in NORTH Charlotte to drive to EAST Charlotte to make sure that the cat has food and water EVERY DAY and scoop out her litter box EVERY DAY (because someone spoils her cat and never let's her crap sit in the litter box for more than 24 hours) and then has to drive home to WEST Charlotte EVERY DAY???  Yeah, me.

So ... in the end, no one gets inconvenienced but me.  The one that is always inconvenienced.   Because yeah... this is how my life works.

And I've held up.  I haven't had my true and real breakdown yet.  I need to.  I really need to.  I have had little cloudbursts where I couldn't hold back the tears but I haven't had the big one yet.  I can't though because I have my kids right now and I hate it when I cry in front of them because they feel like they need to fix it.  No matter what it is, they need to fix it.  You can't fix death.  Even in Harry potter, one of the most magical places ever, you can't fix death.  So no, can't cry in front of the kids.  When I don't have the kids, I'm at work.  Can't cry at work.  Just can't.  Cannot have a complete breakdown at work.  Even if your boss is one of the coolest guys around and one of your best friends who would totally just stand there and hold you while you soaked the hell out of his shirt.  No.  Just can't.  That's work.  Gotta be professional at work.

So I'm not going to get to break.

But I managed to find a place in my mind where I can still function and laugh and joke and be human and this morning my time hop ap on my phone decided to remind me that today was the first anniversary of the day I wen out with John.  Yeah him.  They guy I kinda fucked over but then I really tried to apologize and he treated me like shit and then he went and quit an every single time our paths cross he looks at me like "drop dead in a painful way" because the one time I went to see his roommate I said I didn't want to see him when I should have said the truth was that I can't see him because stupid fucking me still likes him no matter what I do and if he just would smile at me and kiss me again I would so be in his arms and I know this is a stupid horrible run on sentence but I can't help it and yes, I still like him.  I still want him and there's not a damn thing that I can do about it even though when he gives me those drop dead looks a little piece of me dies and spirals away.  Yes, I know I'm a pathetic idiot.  No, I don't know how to fix myself.  If I knew how to fix myself I would.  Do I tell myself I can do so much better than John?  Yes.  Do others tell me I could do som much better than John.  Yes.  Does my brain believe it?  Maybe.  Does my heart?  Hell the fuck no.  If he walked up to me right now and held out his hand and smiled and said "Let's start over." I would hop skip and jump merrily into that trap and never look back.  The fact that I can admit that makes no difference to my heart.  None.

So I went to work and managed to laugh and have a generally good day despite the fact that one year ago today I went out with the man that my heart really does think might have been the love of my life.  It was all good.  Got home and kids hadn't done their chores.  I can deal.  Mother in law texts to ask me if I found a camp for the girls.  I called her (first fucking mistake) And told her no because I don't have custody of them.  Randy does and he's supposed to be taking them to Oklahoma with him because he's to much of a pussy to inform his job that he has ironclad custody of his child during the summer and either they postpone his training or they find a way to send them with him. (Small aside, two years ago, Randy decided that I was a shit mother and he filed with the state and the county to have full time custody of my kids.  He fell through on that but it got put IN WRITING *Which when you put something in writing with the county/state courts, you might as well have chiseled it in stone* that he had custody of them from the day after school ends until two week before school begins.  I am okay with this because for about 90 days, I get to be an adult that doesn't have to worry about getting home to the kids.  I get to actually have a life.)  She says, she thought that I would find a camp and he'd pay for them because he told her that that's what I was going to do wince he can't take with him. (In other words, I have to get up and make sure they get to the camp bus stop and I have to make sure that my work schedule allows for me to pick them up from the bus stop and I have to cook for them and find other stuff for them to do while he gets to spend his days in a classroom and his nights doing whatever the fuck he wants to do. In short, Claudette is still the responsible one that gets to give up the precious little free time she gets... again.)  I told her no.  I legally don't have custody of them.  That Randy does and they if they don't go with him, they will be sitting wherever his new wife Gabby is staring at her all summer because she married him knowing that he had FULL custosy of his kids during the summer.

Insert guilt trip.  Or rather, insert guilt trip attempt.  The only thing that she managed to do was annoy me.  I will not bend on this summer.  He made his bed and now he will lay in it or I will go to the courts and have his custody terminated.

And I am sorry if I sound like a whining little bitch right now but you know what??  I'm tired of being the one that everyone shits on then walks away.  I'm tired.  Plain old fashioned tired.  Why is it that to avoid inconveniencing everyone else I have to bend over backwards, forwards, and sideways?  Why do I have to be the one that takes and takes and takes what everyone else wants to dump on me and deal with it?

What about me?

What. About. ME?

When do I get to say goodbye to my loved ones?  When I get to go out and party without having to come home?  When do I get to meet a guy and have sex with him because I don't have anything or anyone else to think about for that moment in time?  Am I supposed to wait until my last child is over 18 and away at college?  I'm supposed to wait another five years?  Is that how that works?  I'm thirty fucking five and I feel like I'm fifty.  I missed my teens because I had to be the good girl and be with Mommy.  I missed my twenties because I had to be the good Navy wife and good mommy.  Now I'm missing my thirties because I have to be the good daughter and the good single mom.

I seriously just want to run away for a few days.  But I can't.  Because I would be inconveiniencing too many people and that's not what Claudette does.

Claudette needs a fucking lobotomy.

Fuck today.  I'm going to bed.

Oh wait no... I have to go feed the cat.

Fuck.

One more lecture... Just one

And I may or may not snap like a brittle twig.

SO let's go back about a little more than month ago.  I screwed up, I get mad and I wrote a blog on men and how they suck and if you know me, I was kinda talking about one man while generally speaking about several.  He saw it, he got mad.  I spent three days crying.

And he has spent weeks now treating me like a redheaded stepchild that stole the last piece of fried chicken.  Don't laugh, it's something my family says.  It kinda applies to me because in the summer, my hair turns red but I digress...

For a week or so, he was just quiet and didn't say anything.  I personally spent this week crying over what I had done and the fact that he wouldn't forgive me.  Then slowly, but very steadily he began to speak to me in a tone that suggested I go take a long walk off a very short pier.  To my great consternation, I spent more time crying.  That continued for two weeks to the end of it being that one night I asked him point blank how many Hail Mary's I had to do for him to stop speaking to me like that.  He then replied he wasn't aware that he was speaking that way.  No, "I'm sorry."  Just , "I didn't know I was doing it."

It took everything I had then not to put on my ghetto fabulous black woman's ShaNaenae voice and tell him he knew.  But whatever for maybe three days, he didn't speak to me like I was the biggest bitch in the south.

Oh but those three days were heaven comparatively.  From day four until TODAY my work life on the nights that he is there have been a living hell.  And I don't use that term loosely.  More than five nights, he has been so borderline vicious in his tone that it actually made me cry.

And I am willing to admit that a couple of times, my defenses were down because lately I have been a PMS nightmare. (The fucking sky turning dark is apt to drive me to tears on my worse days)

My day starts off awesome.  I get up after getting enough sleep, I go into work and it's all good.  And I mean that.  I love my job, I love my co-workers so being there is never something I don't want to do.  But the second he walks in, I can almost feel the huge bulls eye on my face.  While certain people are there, he doesn't say a word to me.  Insert me jumping up and down in a giddy fashion cause I'm good with the silence.  But but when certain people leave the store, and he's the one in charge so to speak, the snake bites start.

A week ago I had a thing with another co worker that I was trying to annoy her because she has spent the day annoying me.  It was all good natured fun... no I take that back it was not good natured but she knew where I was coming from.  Mr. Man (A term i am using loosely because I will not say his name) took it upon himself to lecture me on being an adult in front of my children with some of the keywords being "She's 27, you're 35.  You should know better"

Basically saying she could annoy the eff outta me because she's not yet thirty but I need to grow up and act my age.

I could go off into a rant about how he is no one to lecture about acting like an adult.  He, the man who nicknames all of the equipment in the store (The docker is called Dockey, the sheeter is Sheety, the slicer is Cutty, the stepstool ;yes the stepstool is Steppy) as if I work in one big dangerous kindergarten was lecturing me on being an adult.  I even gave him a chance to realize that he was walking serious thin ice that night the way women do.  I looked him dead in the face and said "you are lecturing me on how to be an adult?"  He looked me right back in the eye and said "Yes."

But I'm not going to rant.  Nope.  As mad as it made me that night and still makes me, not gonna.

Friday, he made me cry again because of the tone.  This time I cried because I was so angry it was the bodily function that won out over grabbing a pizza pan and... well...  You know.  That being said, have you ever gotten so mad at someone that you couldn't say anything to that your body skipped right over the violent outburst and went straight to tears?  Most likely to save your ass?  That's what happened to me.  And I called my best friend crying.  I don't call people when I cry.  I never do but right at that moment, I needed someone to talk me back down to sanity and she did.  God Bless her, she did.

This past Saturday, we were all at work and one person stepped away from the make line to do something.  I never looked up to see that that person wasn't there and thus didn't see that the make line was unmanned. Trust me, if I had known that the make line was unmanned, I probably would have stepped over but instead I got a lecture, this time in front of anyone who could hear, I got a lecture about how I'm the insider and I have to step up to it and finish the pizzas.

Yes, in theory I do.  Not even the fact that I was told by the boss to concentrate on sheet outs really saves me from this.  I really should have turned around to see that there was no one there with three orders on the screen and one in the process of being made.  I get that.  What annoys me is that I got singled out for a lecture.  One that more than two people heard as one of the persons jumped on the makeline with me to help knock out those pizzas.  Saturday night was actually better for the first time.  I don't know if something was said to him or not but he seemed like he was at least trying to be civil, which I appreciated.  I even let go of the earlier public lecture.  I wasn't little miss chatterbox but I didn't tell him to go play in traffic either.  I think the worst I did was put one of my ear buds in my ear to listen to music while I flipped the make line.  I don't do oppressive silences very well.

So today was Sunday.  A.K.A. my happy day.  He doesn't work Sundays, I don't have to have my shield up because there will be no lectures or sharp razor edges to anyone's words.  It's an awesome day all around every week.  Honestly, it used to be my second favorite day and now it's my first favorite day but whatever.  Something I can't talk about happened and he had to come in for a couple of hours.

The shield didn't immediately go up.  It should have.  I put one earbud in to have some very low music in my ear while I cut pizza.  I think I said, I don't do oppressive silences very well.  I could still hear everything.  Everything except him mumbling.  (He has this crazy annoying habit of speaking while concentrating on the pizza he's making but he doesn't raise his voice, he just kinda mumbles and expect that everyone within hearing range is listening.)  First off I was by an oven that had the fan going.  On a good day I can't hear 65% of whats going on when I'm over there.  He starts mumbling.  Twice I only caught what he was saying because I had turned and caught the movement of his lips out of the corner of my eye.  The third I casually mentioned that I couldn't hear what he was saying.

Lecture number three about how I really shouldn't listen to music.  I didn't say anything about how the volume of the music was on 2 and it was really a random beat in my bad ear (I'm partially deaf in my left ear... well both really but more in my left than my right.) and I didn't say anything about his mumbling and me standing by the oven.  I just nodded (I may have rolled my eyes and made a face.) and took the earbud out.
Another employee came in and they began to talk about the massive amount of overtime they were both getting.  In front of the person who can't get overtime because of her position.  Who can't sub for people and get overtime because she has no car.  It was rather like when your married friends sit and complain about their men and you're all over there like "But I'm single and would step on several grandma's just to have a man But please do tell me more about your man troubles."  So while I had a few minutes to the next pizza surge, I stepped out back.  He was talking and I didn't want to break up the conversation but he saw me step out.  I know he saw me  I made sure he saw me.

Lecture number 4 about how I have to let someone know when I'm leaving.  Really?  I made sure you saw me and I didn't want to interrupt your conversation.

BAd me, what came out of my mouth was "Is the conversation about overtime finished?"  The fact that I cut him off mid lecture and asked this with all of the sneer I couldn't keep out of my voice hit a chink between armor plates and he backed off.

But then something went wrong which put him in a shitty mood for hours.  At one point he pretty much killed an extra large pepperoni pizza trying to get it out of the pan.  Something we have all pretty much done in the past week because the pan fairy visited us and we got new unseasoned pans.  I myself am personally responsible for the death of two extra larges yesterday.  He asked for a remake.  I said that I had to sheet it out in a minute because he had just pointed to an order on the screen and said to make it now not the others because that person was going to be there as well as one other thing.  A minute later, as promised, I sheeted out the extra large and handed it to the other person on the make line. She had to finish a pizza she was working on.  Took all of five seconds.  He turned, realized the remake was not yet in the oven and went twisted.  She said, "It's going in, chill."

His response, "Oh it's not your fault, you're not even supposed to be working."

Yep, you go it.  It was my fault.  Mine.  I didn't say anything audible but a coworker caught the gestures and word that my mouth was forming from the the side of the oven.  I'm not a violent person but if I could have frisbeed a pizza pan through the over at the back of Mr. man's head right then you can bet your bippy I would have.

And this is only about an hour and a half into my three hours of hell.

Around the two hour mark one of the accounts called up to ask if their pizza was on it's way.  It was due at 5:20 and they called at 5:28.  Their pizza was still in the hotbox.  He (Mr Man) could have gotten a blistering lecture from a couple of parties about an account's delivery being late (they could call the owners, the owners could call him or bless out the manager who wasn't there, the list of could haves could go on) but instead I said to the woman that called that it was my fault, I didn't look up at the clock and her pizzas were leaving right that second.  She was totally fine.  Said okay, and told me to have a good night.

Lecture number...5 (bear with me I'm starting to lose count of how many lectures I've had to sit through and not say what I was thinking) about how I shouldn't have said that because it needs to fall on a manager if there's a foul up or some shit like that.

So glad there isn't a big marquee on my forehead that teleprompts my thoughts.  I told the closing shift leader about that conversation later and their response was, "That was great, I would have hugged you, you didn't have to do that, thank you."

It's getting to the point where I'm not moved to tears because I'm hurt by his attitude and treatment of me, I'm moved to tears because I can't say anything because he's my superior.  I could come back at him and very well lose my job because my smart mouth started flapping and didn't know when to stop.  I'm angry that I have to stand there and take it.  I'm pissed that instead of coming to me and talking to me like a human being, he is whittling me down by belittling me.

And worst of all, my boss, who is both our friend, is being dragged into it.  That was the LAST thing I wanted.  I tried so hard to keep it out of the store.  Mr. Man dragged it in.  I held my tongue, I said nothing to no one and tried to keep my head up.  Every shot lobbed at me, I let lay where it fell.  I refused to make my workplace my battleground.

But one more lecture.... Just one... and I might get a really bad case of word vomit.

I have to fix this.  I have to stop this.  I don't know how, but I have to make this stop.  My mother suggests going to the big bosses but I'm not going to do that.  That would actually bring more casualties than help.  She also suggests that I change stores or jobs.  I don't want to leave my job.  I love my job and it's not as easy as she thinks to just change stores.  It doesn't work like that.  I have to fix this.  I can't talk to him because if I happen to go outside when he's on a smoke break, he walks away or goes back inside.  And then there are the moments when I want to say something but I don't because I know how it's going to sound coming out of my mouth which would solve more problems than help. (Like you wanna say something but you just know that that totally barbaric and murderous thought that's shouting across your brain is going to come running out of your mouth instead of the thing you want to say.)

I know I started this with my blog and I'm not even trying to justify that blog because there really isn't any way to.  There is none.  But people make mistakes.  You live you learn, you move on.  That's life.  IT's what keeps the human race going.

Sigh... I;m about all blogged out.  I have to get up in the morning and take my aunt to the airport.  Then doctors at two.  I should be able to sleep.  I've sat here and written all of this while my headache slipped away.  So I should sleep good.  I'm going to go lay down.

Stay frosty bloggers.  Love peace and Hair grease!

Checking in before bed...

Really that's all I am going to do.

Because if I blog about the poison that's actually in my head right now, it WILL bite me in the ass and right now that's not what I want biting my ass right now.

It was an okay at day at work today.  Correction.  Until maybe five this afternoon, it was an awesome day.  Between five and seven it was a decent day and after seven, aside from the fact that I got to leave early, the day probably couldn't have gone any worse.  As a matter of fact, I am pretty certain that there will be some talking done about me that I may have to take a minor ass biting lecture about.

Correction.  Another ass biting lecture.

I love my job.  There is rarely a but that follows that short sentence but there is ever more and increasing presence of said word nowadays.

I really do love my job.  But it's getting harder and harder to work around one person.  On good days, around that person, I'm fine.  I fool myself into thinking that one day we might reach a level of normalcy that befits, you know actual sane humans.  Then on bad days the person makes me alternately want to burst into tears or have to mentally check myself before I wreck myself.  Most recently, I've started to realize that the normalcy I want so badly has arrived but in the form of that person being free to say whatever they want to me in the tone that suggests I take a long walk off a short pier, but all I can do is nod and say "okay".

And yes, that is all I can do because if the word vomit that keeps pressing against my lips ever makes it out of my mouth I will be in big trouble.  No, let me give that the weight it deserves... BIG TROUBLE.

The holidays are coming up.  I need my job.  Maybe after the new year, if things aren't any better I will finally give up working with people I have come to love like family and seek employment elsewhere.

But first, I will start paper blogging the word vomit.  Like I said, if the word vomit sees daylight, it's going to bite me in the ass.

Odd thought... Maybe I am starting menopause.  Maybe that's an explanation for the swirling mass of stupid emotions I have become.  WOuld taking hormones and all the stuff a person in menopause has to take help me go back to being on even keel with the world?

Hmmm....

For now, I'm going to keep my mouth shut.  And I mean that literally.  I am going to keep my mouth shut and not say a word to the person making my life a living hell.  Not one word, ever.  And I will snap a rubber band on my wrist every time the word vomit presses against my lips.

Now watch that get me in trouble....

FML...FML very much right now.  I am so fucked.

good night bloggers.  Stay frosty.

So... Men suck...

Can someone tell me why men think that they have the monopoly on Blue balls??  Is it because they think they're the only ones that have balls?  They aren't.  Women have balls, but ours are in the inside and we call them ovaries.   And while we're on lessons, guys, let me tell you, when you jump start those things, especially after they've been dormant for a couple of years, you really need to finish what you start.  And that's just advice from a woman.

Men have it so freaking lucky, I think.  They get all excited and they can go in the bathroom and jerk jerk jerk until they feel all fine and even with the world again.  Girls do that and we're nasty and dirty.  I have never once, outside of a really bad porn flick, seen a woman go into a bathroom and attempt to solve that problem on her own.  No, women wait until they get home and they pull out vibrators or hit the showers.  Why do you think detachable showerheads and extension shower lines sell so well?  Because women always have to finish what men start and are too much of a pussy to finish.

And God forbid, as a woman, I try to get said man to understand that it would be nice if he finish what he started.  Oh no!  Evil!!  Stay away from this one boys!!  She's gonna insist that you NOT leave her all hot and bothered and then pretend like you didn't do a damn thing wrong.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that things went the way they went or rather are going.  IS it still counted as in motion when you have stopped moving altogether?  Whatever.  I have kids and even though I knew it was coming and tried to avoid it by saying up front I didn't want one, EVERY SINGLE MALE ON THE FUCKING PLANET seems to think that if you date a woman with kids, she's going to expect you to want her kids and love them and be daddy.

NO, men.  Just NO!  In big bold capital letters NO!  Stop that!  If by chance there are any men reading this blog please listen and listen well.  If a woman outright says to you, and I QUOTE, "I am not looking for a father for my kids.  They already have one.  One that loves them.  I'm looking for someone for ME."  SHE MEANS IT!!!  She's not just saying that so that you'll walk into her trap and maybe some women might actually be classless enough to try that line and then get you hooked but a real woman, a woman who already has her battle scars from foraging into the world of men, is not going to say that stream of sentences lightly.

So men, please stop using the excuse "You have kids and I'm not sure I'm ready for that".  It's old and it's tired and it put you in a barrel with all the other no ball sac having assholes that used that same lame excuse to get out of getting to know a woman and that isn't really someplace you want to be.

You all keep claiming that divorced black women are all bitter.  Stop and take a minute and think about why you think we are.  Because we don't put up with bull shit?  Because when you throw an excuse at us, we don't just accept it and believe you?  That when you do something stupid she expects you to own up to your actions and be a man?  Because she wants you to hold her and make her feel like an actual flesh and blood woman and not a three dollar whore?

We aren't bitter.  We're battle weary. There's a difference.  A big one.  And NO, we aren't holding you responsible for what our ex's did to us... well I'm not going to speak for all women... MOST of us aren't making new men pay for past men's mistakes.  If you act the same, it's not our fault that we recognize time repeating itself and want to get off the ride.  My ex was a son of a bitch (I mean that so literally I could stitch it on a sampler)  He lied, he cheated, he belittled me, and he played so many mind games that when I finally got out of the house of mirrors long enough to breathe fresh air, I had no idea who I was.  The night we actually started our honeymoon, he was actually INSIDE ME and told me he was sorry, but he planned to cheat on me.  He'd always wanted a white girl. And he was in the navy so to him, going to different ports was giving him that opportunity.

But I'm not bitter.  Nope.  I learned my lesson.

Back to the topic at hand.

Women are not just machines that you men can just turn on and off at the flick of a switch.  Okay, maybe some women are and they kinda give women who have a little more grounding a bad name but whatever.  If you start something, please please please finish it.  If at first you don't finish (maybe because a very unwelcome visitor showed up) go back and finish when you can.  And don't make her wait long.  What will happen is that everytime she looks at her shower head, the damn thing will cry, "Rape!!  Stalker!! Stay away from me!!" or just dribble water as if it's crying because it's had enough.  If batteries are on her grocery list every time you glance at it, you're taking too long.  And no, the batteries aren't for the Wii remotes or the Xbox controllers.  They're for the little friend that she keeps hidden in a drawer so that when you pussy out, she can get some kind of relief.

Okay, I've ranted myself out.  The banshee inside my head has screamed all the obscenities she had.  I don't feel like doing anyone bodily harm out of sheer frustration anymore.  We're all good.

Seriously men, the moral of tonight's rant was basically this:  Finish what you start or don't freaking start it.  We all have blue balls but some are just a little harder to get back to normal.  And stop being pussies.  And using people's kids as excuses not to get to know a woman.  Grow up and be men.  That's all women want.  For you to be a man.  The one we were attracted to in the first place.  Just be him.  Let stuff fall into place and happen the way it's going to happen.  Stop thinking she's making you pay for shit another man did to her.  She's not.

I'm going to bed, bloggers.  I'm spent and have to be at work tomorrow at one.  I seriously think an espresso shake might actually be needed for the first time in a long time.

On the bright side I did a little retail therapy a few days ago and they go here today.  Way too big for me in retrospect but I kinda feel better...

I honestly think I'm about to have one of those breaks that causes severe turmoil.

I usually can see them coming and usually something happens between them arriving and me seeing them that helps me derail them but I don't see any side roads that a possible help venue might interceede.  All I see is straight road and my nervous breakdown coming full speed.

So for a week now, I have been texting and calling my ex to find out when he's going to bring the kids back.  I get sent to voicemail and my texts and voicemails are going unanswered.  LIke he is full on ignoring me at the moment.

On top of that, my mom has been asking me for two weeks when the kids are coming home and Sunday when she asked I was in a rush, I was running late to work, and I was tired so what came out of my mouth was probably something that should have stayed in my head. "I don't know, mom, that's a question you should be asking Randy, not me."  Then she made a comment about school supplies and again, something that was much safer wandering around in my head found the mouth door and I said "I'm not a total disgrace of a mom, I got school supplies."  As if that shit cake doesn't have enough layers then she laid in about the uniforms again.  For the five hundred and ninety seventh time I told her, Olivia will wear the green shirts that Kayla wore two years ago and that Jovaughn wore two years before that.  What iI got again was, "Olivia is not going to want to wear that." and "She always gets hand me downs."

First of all, I may sound like a horrible parent here but I don't honestly give a good goddamn what Olivia wants to wear.  It's a school uniform for Chrissake. Yes, I know they will be big on her but right now she will either wear them or wear them.  These are her only two options until I can get to a store to buy her more.  As for her always getting hand me downs.  She's the last child in a set of three.  This is her lot in life as it is for all youngest children.  At some point in their lives more than half of their clothing was worn by someone else. and considering I have to buy a new fucking color every school year because Ranson Middle would rather color code their students than learn them damn names I don't see why I should break my already cracked and leaking bank on brand new shirts that will have nobody to wear them after this school year is over.  So forgive me if I don't give a crap what she wants to wear.

So last night, I came home and for the second day in a row my house smelled like someone took a massive shit and didn't flush and I was determined to find the smell this time.  My nose led me to the garage where I discovered that when I went in the chest freezer on the 11th to give my mom food because she had none, I didn't close the lid.  Yesterday was the 18th.  For a solid week now, the freezer has been open.  Over $100 in food has been molding and rotting for a week.  This was the smell.  So I closed the lid, taped the bitch shut and aired the garage.  Since it's a chest freezer that was third hand when I got it, and this was my fault and my fault only, I chalked it up to a simple careless mistake perpetrated by Dammit Dette and went to look up new chest freezers online.  I was totally not worried about it of the loss of food that had probably been frozen well past it's sell by date anyway.  Why cry over spilt milk, you know?

I still hadn't drained the bullshit tolerance pool when I talked to my mom again last night.  I probably should have.  It has gotten to where if I don't call her, she posts it on my facebook for EVERYONE to see usually in the form of "Where are you? Why haven't you called me?" Gee thanks for making everyone on Facebook think I never call my mom.  I speak to you once or twice A DAY forgive me if that once or twice wasn't on your time.  I have a job now I can't use my phone at work and I try not to use it driving and these days, I'm kinda doing one, either, or both at the same time.  When I get home I usually have enough thought in my head to lock the door and set the alarm before I pass out in my bed.

But I digress... Like I was saying, I didn't drain the bullshit tolerance pool before I called her last night and she informed me that she had called Randy and surprise surprise he picked up the phone for her.  And they had a very lengthy conversation.  He even told her that he was planning to bring the kids back on Saturday.  I work on Saturday from one to ten.  He either needs to be here before twelve or after ten.  But he doesn't call me and hasn't called me so he doesn't know this.  My mother then suggested in that "i know how to run your life better than you do because you're acting like a toddler" voice that maybe I should call him and let him know my hours.

Yeah cause calling and texting him has been working so well for me for the past week.

Again, I should have drained the bullshit tolerance pool because thing that should stay in my head began to come out of my mouth like telling her that she comes off as trying to run my life at times and that at times, she acts like I'm still a child.  This got me a lecture on being an adult.  Because I won't call Randy and volunteer my schedule. He purposefully sends me to voicemail because I "Cause drama and he ignores people who cause drama" (This is what he actually told my mother)  I called bull shit on that and the flag was thrown in my face.  Some more yelling was screamed and then she said "I'm not telling you that you are acting like a child but you are acting like an asshole.  Goodnight." and BOOM.  she hung up on me.  Whoever said that you can't tell when someone slams the phone down because all cordless phones have an END button was very very wrong.  I could feel her punch that end button like she was slapping me in the face, which she probably wanted to at that moment.

Am I wrong?  Why do I have to be the adult here?  And is it really being childish if I don't feel like calling him again to tell him that I won't be here Saturday when he hasn't even bothered to even send a text and tell me he's going to be here?  I mean for fucks sake he told my mom because his balls aren't big enough to call me.  Or text me.  Hell he could even email it to me.  But I'm not being adult?

Man fuck this.  I'm done.  Like I said, I don't see a detour between my oncoming nervous breakdown and now.  So those of you that know me in real life.  If you see my pulling away from you, this is your warning.  I can't handle anything more right now.  And I would rather no one else get hurt in the atomic blast that's about to make landfall.

I want a cigarette right now.  I kinda need one.  My e-cig isn't doing jack shit.

I have to go to work.  I have to pretend to be normal because I need my job.

Tonight is going to so hard I don't think I'm going to make it through it.  Stay tuned, bloggers.  This may actually be the night I get fired from my dream job.

So.... oops....

So this afternoon my boss was a little upset and threw a pizza pan at the wall.

You have no idea how badly I wish I could have done that and gotten away with it.  I was so freaking jealous.  All I could do today was cry.

The hooptie tried really REALLY hard not to make it out of the month of May alive but I pulled her into June and refused to let her die.  Down to putting a foil pan under her at night to catch the oil that dripped out and putting it back in.  Even down to carrying TWO of the $17 jugs of oil in my car so that I could give her a drink on the fly if she happened to yell at me.

Little bitch got thirsty TWICE in the space of about thirty minutes.  Had to stop on the way to one delivery and put oil in and then had to stop on the way back from another delivery.

So I called my mom and asked her to find that Triple G Mechanic on Freedom that has a sign right outside of Pinky's because they say they specialize in Volkswagens.  Yeah... They don't exist anymore and if they do they are playing one hell of a game of Hiding go Neverfind!  So then I decided to called EuroWise, the place that I took it when it had the smoking problem before.  The place that cost my mother and my ex husband a total of a grand to fix her before.

For a cracked oil pan on a 2001 Volkswagen Passat Wagon, they wanted $486 dollars to fix it.  Four hundred dollars?!?!?  I mean really????  And is the part that I'm going to get made of solid gold and will it help my car to fart rainbows and glitter at the cars behind it??  Cause that would, admittedly, be cool.  I mean think of it, everytime I hit the gas, Glitter flew out at the person behind me.... I'd so go to jail... Whatever, that's besides the point.  Four hundred dollars to change and oil pan.  Nope, sorry.  My mom found a place that she used to go a while back.  He's closed and grand opened a few times but the man is a mason and she's an Eastern Star and in the grand order of Black Fraternal Orders that makes them sister and brother and they watch each other's back and yada yada blah blah yay!  He recommended that I have it towed to him but the cheapest tow we could find was $76 and I don't have that in my wallet. Or the bank.  Cause you know Hooptie just couldn't wait until Payday... in two effing days.

And that was a topper on my shitcake day actually.  I was woken up this morning by my mom who was woken up by my aunt to be told that Auntie was lost on the highway up near my job when she should have been down by where I live.  Mom told her to go to Remount Rd and work her way to South Blvd because they were both familiar with that road.  Here's problem number one with that.  She bypassed home TWICE to get to where Remount Rd was.  The Second problem with that is that there is no exit for Remount Rd. on 77 southbound, so Auntie found herself almost in South Carolina before she turned around.  Had my brain been awake at seven am I would have said the later.  But my brain was tap dancing to a routine of "Why the hell am I awake and walking around and talking on the phone?"  So when Mommy called back at 8 to tell me Auntie had gotten caught up in morning traffic and noticed Tyvola Road and had gotten off there to find South Blvd my mind was actually awake to ask Why considering that BOTH Tyvola and South would have been jammed packed at 8 am as they are major roadways.  but Mom said that's what Auntie said she was doing because she recognized Tyvola having passed it on South the day before... And the day before.  I told her that Auntie should have taken John Belk Freeway.  To which my mom replies "I don't know what that is,so I'm not going to tell her to take a road that I've never taken."

My sarcasm switch doesn't have a playground monitor at eight AM so my response was "Mom, John Belk Freeway is 277.  You travel it almost every day..."  In a deadpan.

So that dealt with, I got off the phone and had to call the Ex because the child support is going to be late...again. which is going to make my rent late... again.  Seriously I just go ahead and pay the late fee as apart of my rent every month now anyway.  Why bother trying to be ontime?  It's like trying to staple jelly to the wall.  Admittedly, the voicemail message I left him was not very nice but I wasn't feeling nice.  It's not like I call him to shoot the shit and ask about his day.  I couldn't care less if he had the day from hell and back again, He's not my husband, so I don't give a fuck I really don't.  He has an overgrown child he calls a girlfriend to listen to his BS.

He called me back at work.  While I was having a shitty day.  The conversation went something like this:

R: "I called you the other day.  I called you on the house phone; the kids phone.  You didn't answer."
C: "And then God looked down and said, let there be cell phones, nimrod!"
R: "Oh well, you know I was in class. I can't call you back or answer in class."
C: "On Sunday.  You were in class on Sunday."
R: "Yeah."
C "All day, because I'm pretty sure that it's illegal to have class for a solid 24 hours."
R."What are you talking about?"
C: "You could have called at any time of the day."
R: "Oh. Well I got busy and then I forgot."
C : "Translation, my whiney ass girlfriend noticed that it was you calling and pitched a fit and took my attention every time I got the chance to call you and when she finally let up, I forgot to call."
R : "You're not having a good day, are you?"
C: "YOU THINK?!?!?" (Yes I screamed that.) "Look I don't call you to shoot the shit.  And your bitch ass GF better understand that if I say I need for you to call me back and I tell you WHY I need you to call me back then she needs to let you call me back or you need to grow a pair and tell her to shut the fuck up.  Or you can shoot me a text to answer my question AS LONG AS YOU ANSWER THE QUESTION THAT I HAVE ASKED YOU TWO FUCKING DAYS IN A ROW."
R: "Uhm... okay. Well, It should be there by Tomorrow or Friday.  If it isn't there by Friday let me know."
C: And you had better answer or text me back because if the lights get cut off because of you I will run up and down you with a lawnmower."
R:" Damn, what is wrong with you?"
C: "Do you mean the part where I got woken up this morning, the part where my car is dying again, or a couple days ago when I was told by your mom that she is moving right up the street from my job and that she hinted in less words that anything that she was looking forward to ME bringing her pizza from my job which meant she wants to abuse the fuck out of my discount."
R: "*Laughs* You work way up there?  I feel sorry for you!"

At this point I actually started growling.  Like big black bear growling.  He decided to take his remaining skin and get off the phone.  I never said I married the smartest tool in the shed.

It was around EuroWise telling me that they wanted 486 dollars to fix my car that I lost it all and started crying.

John even was concerned but I walked outside and prayed to every God I knew that he wouldn't be the one to see me cry.  It was bad enough that he had to see me cry when I was in pain and he drove me to the hospital.  I Do not like to have people see me when I can't control my world.  Being in Mind numbing pain and having no control of the moisture leaking from my eyes or the moans coming from my mouth was NOT how I wanted him to ever see me.  EVER.  Seeing me lose it over my car, my ex husband, and loss of sleep was even worse because to me, losing it and crying over that was a bitch move on my part and I have no one to blame but hormones.  It's coming up on Chocolate munching time so my hormones are all over the place and even standing in front of a fan on high speed, I was boiling up today.

Why can't I be a man?  Seriously.  A few Yanks on their cock and everything is peachy fucking keen in their world.  Women have to deal with hormones and hot flashes and shit that makes us cry uncontrollably for no freaking reason!!!

Damn you Eve!!!

You have NO IDEA how much I wish I could have thrown that pizza pan across the room today and gotten away with it.  None whatsoever.  None at all.  If I had done it, I'd probably be fired.

Sigh... Kids are in bed, I'm going to crawl in and maybe read The Mortal instruments.  It's been a few days since I did that.

Stay frosty, kiddos.  Lova ya!

Do not stand between a mother and her child's welfare.

...It is quite possibly the deadliest place to be...

So I haven't blogged in a while because two things have been all consuming on my mind and neither of which are things I WANT on my mind.  To that end I have been knitting and watching Downton Abbey incessantly.

But I think, perhaps, now I must blog about at least one of the things that has worn me down to a shell of my former conscious.

LAst Monday, 2/10/14, my daughter, Kayla was suspended from school for fighting.  To say I was upset is probably the understatement of the year but what will come at a shock was that I was upset at the school and not my daughter.

For four years, I have been going through this.  When my son was in Ranson, bullies picked on him and he told teachers, and I wrote letters and made calls and nothing was ever done.  My son never snapped  because he made friends with a thug that afforded him a measure of protection.  Did I like it, no?  Was I happy my son wasn't picked on anymore? Yes.  But it started again when Kayla started school.  She comes home, she talks to me, she goes to school and talks to teachers, I made calls and got sent to answering machines, I send notes that got sent to the place where notes they don't want to read go to die.  They haven't done a damn thing ever, but suddenly they want to do something the one moment that one of my children has finally had enough and snaps?

On top of this, The kids have been out of school since Tuesday afternoon.  According to the Zone Coordinator, the school day has to be in session for the suspension day to count.  With the last three days being called out, her suspension hasn't counted.  Tuesday counted as the first day but no other day has as yet counted.  If they go back to having school on Monday, which not saying anything against my fair city may not happen because they refuse to waste snow plows on the side streets that 40% of the children live on, Kayla can't go back to school until Wednesday.  IF they don't go back until Tuesday, she can't go back until Thursday.

My child is NOT going to get her 180 days and I will be damned if they try to make her go to summer school because of this.  I fired off a letter to the CMS school facebook as I don't know who runs the page but I have a feeling that they will see that it gets to the proper people.

I got a reply back from the web administrator who gave me the principal at Ransons Email. and I sent a letter off to her.  CMS is about to learn that the most dangerous place to be is between a mother and anything that concerns her child.  I may go down.  But I'm going down swinging...

The letter I sent to the principal:

I have a question and I hope that if you can't answer it, you can point me towards someone that can or forward it to whom it needs to be addressed.

My daughter was suspended last Monday from Ranson IB Middle for fighting a boy who called her, for lack of a better phrase and not to be crass, an "obese dog" if you get my meaning. Tuesday was the first day of said suspension but then there was no school Wednesday, Thursday or Today. I understand the "Rules" say that she can't now go back until next Wednesday because the school day has to be in session in order for the suspension day to count but I disagree.

For the first, as it stands, she will not get her 180 days of school. For the second, the child whom my daughter fought was given no recourse other than being taken off the bus that day for his slanderous remark towards my child. I know this for a fact because one, he lives across the street from me, I witnessed him getting on the bus in the morning, and several of the neighborhood children made it a point to come to me and tell me that he was on the bus telling everyone that the "obese dog" (again, I am trying to be tactful but please note that he was STILL calling my daughter out of her name) Got suspended for hitting him but he got nothing because he didn't fight back.

For the second, the exact same situation happened to my next door neighbors child during the first snow days we had. The days days the children missed then were the final two days of her suspension and when she went back on the very next school day, no one batted an eye.

Now I know that you cannot discuss the punishments of children not my own but I don't think that My child should have to face the possibility of summer school because she wasn't able to get her 180 days. I have spoken to the zone coordinator for Ranson and I do not think that my daughter should miss any more days. The fact is, that her problems with bullies at Ranson has gone on since 2012 and the school has done absolutely nothing about it. Whether this is by choice I don't know but I do know that my daughter has been trying to tell adults at Ranson as have I for over a year now and it is only now, when my daughter got tired of being bullied and ignored that they are choosing to do something. As I explained to Ms. Green, Since 2012 Kayla has been telling teachers to no avail, I have written notes that go wherever notes that no one wants to read in Ranson go to die. I have been put on hold when I call or given my name and number for someone to call me back and no one ever does. I understand that CMS has rules but CMS has to understand that as a mother I must look out for my child and when the place that I trust with her safety, welfare, and education for seven hours a day isn't caring whether or not she is one of the "unfortunate children who sometimes slip through the cracks" then maybe I should find a school district that will. I have the bullying and intimidation form from the handbook and have saved it for Kayla and myself to fill out, so there's no need to send it.

Also, and please understand, I am not meaning to be rude when I say this, but when you contact me, I don't need to hear CMS speak or what THEY want you to say. I want to speak to you not the rulebook. IF you aren't allowed to speak to me without quoting the student handbook, then I really don't think I can listen as I have grown up behind the scenes of a school district and know the CMS as well as other schools handbook by heart.

What I need to know is, Will my child be allowed back in school on the next school day and if she is not, who else do I bring this up with because my first inclination is to find the superintendent's office and sit there until he will see me personally. I don't like having to go straight to the top but I am fighting for my childs safety, welfare, and education none more important than the other.

If needs be Someone may call me on my home or cell phone both numbers I am putting at the bottom of this letter.

Claudette Wilson

I hope this works....

Pity Party table for one... seriously. It's like a rant...

Beware this is a serious pity party.

I'm feeling invisible today, bloggers.  I have these days every now and them.  In the past the days might have stretched out to a string but today is one of those days that it hurts a little more than normal.

I am not a social bug by any stretch of imagination. I don't call anyone and sometimes if real life gets in the way of texting I will completely forget to text you until some random happening causes you to cross my mind again.

But one thing I never do, one thing I can never be accused of, is ignoring someone for over six months and only contacting them because I need something from them.

I have an app on my phone that holds all of my texts.  Like every single one unless I've taken the time to delete them.  I can go back to some people and see the very first text they ever sent me on this phone.  It ranks my conversations as well.  Most recent is at the top and least recent is at the bottom.  Every six months, I go through and delete the people at the bottom.  In my mind if they can't bother to contact me, I can't bother to keep their text streams.  If I do this twice (i.e. you texted me because you need something in June and I don't hear from you by December I delete you and you contact me in Jan only to disappear until July...) I not only delete you I stop personalizing your stream.

I love Handsent.  I can give you a background, different colors and even a specific text tone so that I know it's you when you text.  Most often if it's a personalized text tone, I will drop what I am doing to text you back.  For some people that even means if you text me while I'm sleeping, I will wake up and have a conversation with you.  Even if that means that at three a.m you wanted to talk.  I will wake up.  But those people that contact me so little are given the short default tone which at the moment is a temple bell.  might pull me to the top of my consciousness in the middle of the night but you definitely won't get me to roll over and have a conversation.  After all, I only appear on your radar when you need something so why should I let you ruin my sleep?

And that sounds harsh and a little bit petty but it's the truth.  And I didn't used to be that way.  I used to be a kind, open person that gave every one of my friends their own text tone and special background.  At the moment, twelve people have their own backgrounds, and only eight people have a specific text tone.  I will be up front and honest and say that for those nine people, the world can wait while I see what they have to say.

So where am I going with this?  What is my point?  My point today is that I feel invisible and this is one of the few days that it's rubbing me like a cactus on newborn flesh.  It hurts.  It feels like no one bloody person gives a shit that I haven't been able to say a word in almost 24 hours.  Not one bloody person that has my phone number and can text or ever has texted me gave enough of a shit about me today to ask if my fever was down or if I was feeling better.

What the hell?  Really?  I mean just that little that you couldn't take five seconds and text me?  Facebook me?  Shit like this shows me just how high I rank.  Thank you.

Do me a favor.  The next time that you need/ want something from me, why don't you wait another six months and then consider asking me.  Maybe by then, I'll feel like doing you a solid for old times sake.

Ah piss. I'm going before I start naming names...

Going to vote was a TOTAL waste of my time...

So I went to vote today and let me say, it was a complete waste of my time.  And I don't mean to imply that my vote counted for nothing, I am SAYING it loud and clear.

Just found out that I live in the county not the City of Charlotte.  Well, I kinda knew that because of the trash pick up and all but get this...  I can't vote for city council or mayor because I am only a county resident.  I was only able to vote on school board for my district and two money referendums.  I'm not kidding.  My ballot had three effing questions on it and when I cast (Guessed) at those three questions, it politely said thank you and I was finished.

So I called the lady who was monitoring the booths over and asked her why I hadn't been asked about mayor and whatnot, and that's when she told me, I'm not allowed to vote for the mayor or the city council.

I have to live with the choices that the residents of the city make but I'm not allowed to have any input in it.

This, right here is why people don't vote.  People are always squawking in my ear that voting counts.  It may not be the first vote and it may not be the last vote but it counts.  Go do your civic duty, go cast your ballot and when you finally give in and go out with the mentality that you are going to help, you are going to do the right thing, someone then tells you that you aren't allowed to vote????

Sorry but fuck that!  In order to vote for the mayor or the city council that will pass laws and govern the way I live here, I have to move my home?  But if I choose not to move my home to the actual city, I have to live with the choices that the city dwellers made for me???

I'm kinda pissed.  I should not blog when I'm pissed, but I'm fucking pissed off.  That made no freaking sense at all...