Day 2 on the planet with no Facebook...

So another day has passed and the apple was put before Eve.

My mother had Facebook on the entire time I was at her house and I glanced at it but remarkably, I wasn't tempted to go on my own.  I'm starting to think that I wasn't as attached to it as I thought I was.  I would say maybe the need to separate myself from it was all in my head.  Whatever, I'm not going back just yet.  I actually enjoy my phone having a spaz attack every time it refreshes and tries to log on but hits a brick wall. IT all but begs me for an updated password and I have nothing for it.

This is actually the most fun I have all day.

I started a new book.  It's called Wildacre and oh man, this ish is off the chain. I'm not sure if that's good or bad.

First this girls started off loving her papa and being raised on the family farm estate and loving the land more than life itself and her older brother was sent away to school.  Then as she grew her father told her that as a girl she got nothing, her brother the bookworm.  Somewhere around fifteen she has a summer long affair with the Gamekeepers son and it's kinda hot actually.  But then the brother comes home and the father begins to favor the son over the girl and she and her lover talk for like five minutes about killing the dad and cheating the son so bad that he goes bankrupt and they buy the farm and live the life of riley.  She wakes up the next morning realizing that she was kinda horney and didn't mean it when she agreed that her father could have an accident but she doesn't reach lover boy in time and Papa has an accident that afternoon and son is in charge.  Girl is all bloodthirsty because she loved her papa and she sets a man sized bear trap for lover boy and leaves him to bleed out but he doesn't and his body and his mom disappear.  Time passes and little miss hot and horney begins to get very unsister like feelings for her brother (Eww) (Seriously EWWW) and it takes her a couple of weeks but she achieves her goal and he falls in love with her and within the first 24 hours of this sick affair I can count that they've screwed five times. (Did I say EEEEWWW?  Cause... EEEWWWW) But now brother is getting married and she's weaseled her way on their honeymoon so she and brother can continue sleeping with each other.   Then she hears from the fiancee's mom that there's been bread riots in the north led by a one legged man on a big black horse that has two big dogs and can reload his pistol while on horseback.  Apparently lover boy that she left for dead after the man trap killed one of his kneecaps had two black dogs, if he survived, he would have one leg and he could reload his gun while riding a horse.  So now she thinks that he's going to come and get her for leaving him to die after he stepped into her revenge you die now trap.  Add that to the fact that she's kinda getting the hots for the country doctor that's treating her for her new found anxiety.

IT's like a train wreck, You can't look away.  I have wanted to throw the book across the room because it's grossed me out like soo many times but I can't, it's just... like I said, I can't look away.

I'm having a bit of a drink.  A vanilla flavored black russian.  I love the feeling of immense warmth that spreads through your body when you have a good drink.  It's like an Orgasm that you can feel from head to toe.

Speaking of Orgasms, I'm leaning toward making that my O blog.  But I'm not sure about that considering that my experience with this is rudimentary at best.  I mean my whole married life I didn't have one sober orgasm.  I'm not sure if I ever had them drunk although he says I did.  But then I earned a Woody award for best pornographic scream.  He bought it for over nine years.

I have had a couple.  And I mean that... a couple.  The last guy I slept with managed to acquaint me with it but not very well.

I'd like to be better acquainted with them.  One day.  Soon.

I have a little more thinking to do on that blog hence why it's not up yet.

So back to my book...

Ciao Bellas!

Day one on the planet with no Facebook...

I was tempted, bloggers.  I was well and truly tempted for about ten minutes to reactivate my FB.

But then I got up and I cleaned the living room and it was all good and in between cleaning I managed to sort out my jewelry supplies as well as make soup.

As a matter of fact, I'm sitting here eating said soup and it is sooooo goood! I love it when experimenting goes well.  Wanna see?

Okay...

I usually make either beef stew or chicken soup but lately I've been mixing the two and making this beef/chicken soup that is banging if I do it right.  Well tonight I added Shrimp!  Yes I cut up pieces of jumbo shrimp and O.M.G!  It's awesome.  The girls are in the dining room eating it with thick pieces of Homemade honey Wheat bread...

The best part of cooking is watching other people eat it with that look on their face.  After I cut the bread, Liv looked up at me and said "okay thanks!  You can go now"  WITH a glob halfway to her mouth.  I could have been offended you know the whole dismissing me from the room thing, but she said it with a laugh and as a parent you have to pick and choose your battles.  This wasn't even a fight.

So tonight is the game between the Panthers and the Patriots.  Supposedly both teams are 5-0 and only one can win tonight.  Tickets for the Panthers now start at $100 and go up past $2,000 for seats thanks to them winning so much.  It's kinda an unheard of thing.  They just don't do that.  Like ever.  They suck.  Well, I guess I can't say that at the moment.  They're on a winning streak.

Okay, I need to get up and do something before the itis sets in.  Cause oh man!  I'm full!  I love soup.  I want to make cupcakes.  I feel a baking binge coming on a few days early.  I have to bake most of Friday so I wasn't looking forward to baking  until Friday but man I want some cupcakes...

Okay, I'm going to do something.  Dunno what but I have to get up...

Deactivation

So late last night I deactivated my Facebook..  Whether this was a cry for help or me finally getting fed up, I don't know but I do know that as long as my will not to be connected at the hip and mouth to the social network holds out, I will leave as such.

I did regret some friends that I lost when my oh so freaking smart phone clued in that I no longer had an active account and deleted people from the contacts list but I logged on and reactivated this morning long enough to stare a few pictures and send those people a message.

A very small part of me wants to see how long it will take some people to notice I've left.  I'm a serial poster so if they've ever read any of my stuff then they may or may not notice right off the back.  It may take a few days as I do tend to take breaks every now and then, just not to this degree.  I have always been able to be reached by Facebook message.  Now I don't even have that link anymore and you know something?  Right now, I feel a little freer than I did yesterday.

I got up this morning and started a soup.  In a few moments I plan to go clean up my living room then my kitchen and then my dining room and I may start a few new jewelry pieces.  In the next couple of weeks I plan to re arrange my bedroom.  I have to find some screens for my windows.  Winter is coming and I think I would like to have my windows up at night to catch the breeze so that I don't have to have my AC running all day and all night.  The girls got screens as did the dining room.  Granted I pulled them off the vacant house next door and someone moved in before I could swipe the front screens for my bedroom so I have to go scavenging.  I shall prevail however.  The people at the top of the cul de sac are moving out and part of me wants to go over and hijack their screen door.  Just unscrew the screws and run into the night but I think it'll look suspicious if the realty company they are going with comes to the circle and their's holes in their door frame and the screen door they THOUGHT was on that house looks exactly like the one on my door.  So hmmm... nah, I think I'm going to let that house be....

So yeah, time for me to get up and get cracking.  The day is half gone and I have alot to do.  That soup is smelling really tasty.  I kinda wish Blogger had a smell option.  Today is the usual beef and chicken but I'm also going to throw a few jumbo shrimp in there and some veggies.  This is going to be good.  I think I may also make a fresh loaf of bread or two.

Time to get crackin!

Ciao!

This is getting really tiring...

I don't know.  Maybe I need to get laid and then I will stop being overly emotional.  Maybe if I release whatever it is that released when you get some, I will regain my ability to be a level headed person again.

I want to scream one thousand cusses right now into the wind and not stop until I have no breath left in my body.  Why must men be so damned infuriating?  They are forever complaining that they don't understand women but the truth is, we're not the hard ones to figure out.  Men are WAY more complex than women are.

I want so bad for this not to be another blog about how my ex is pissing me off.  There's about a hundred of those running through my mind right now and I need to deal with that.  There's a lot of crap running around my brain right now but I can't put it here because like shitting in the wind, it'll come back and land right in my face. I know it will.

I'm sitting here fighting off tears because life is so hard right now.  There are so many demand on my time and not very many of them are mine.  This past Saturday was probably the most fun I have had in months because I got to do something for me.  It'll be a cold day in Neverland before that happens again.

I had two things that I wanted to do this month.  Just two.  I wanted to go see Thor and I wanted to go see The hunger Games.  I've missed my chance with Thor.  And I can already tell I'm not going to get to see the Hunger Games.  At least not on opening day.  I did get Saturday and I had hella fun but think about it.  I had two small things that I wanted to do for me this month and they have to go out of the window in favor of someone else's plans.

I got some disheartening news yesterday about something that's had me questioning a few things.  One of them being should I have ever left New Jersey.  Sometimes I'm not so sure.  My son doesn't love me enough to pretend I exist unless it's a blue moon.  So that's the same as when I was there.  My love life is about the same.  No one gave a damn about me in the dating circle in NJ and No one give a damn about me here.  My friends still love me no matter where I go so there's that.

Sigh... I'm just so tired of being treated like everyone doormat.  So tired of being treated like I don't matter unless I'm needed.  So tired... So freaking tired.

I'm turning into a used up, dried up old prune and no one seems to care.  I'm screaming out for just a little relief and everyone is so busy with what they need from me or want from me or can get from me that no one hears me.

I'm 34 years old and I feel like I'm 50+.  I can honestly see why no man wants me.  What man my age wants someone who is so old in the inside?

I can't have any more kids.  At least not naturally and sometimes I'm not sure if I want to do it again at this stage in the game.  Five years ago when I was still 29 maybe.  I have 6 years, one month and two days until my youngest is 18.  I have hit the home stretch and everyone says I'm going to have empty nest syndrome like crazy but I don't think I will.  In six years, one month and two days from today's date this will be absolutely nothing holding me to this spot and... and... and...

I'm still going to be sitting right here being the good girl, making no waves, making no loud noises, hoping that someone will come along and notice me.  Sitting here in my polished shoes, and pretty white pinafore dress with my hair done up really nicely, wearing a big smile.  That'll be me.

Oh, my dad is in the hospital again.  Not good.

We may not have always gotten along, but god, I don't want to lose my Daddy.  I'm not ready to lose my Daddy...

...

Don't sweat the petty things...

Pet the sweaty things...

I always hear people say that and I get it but I don't.  I care but I don't.

You know, I used to pride myself that for awhile, I had the kind of relationship with my ex-husband that many divorced people wished they had.  We talked, we hashed out problems with little to know ripples, we so parented with a finesse that made supernanny look like a novice.

But ever since he's moved here, I find that all I want to do is rip his head off and shove it up his ass.  On a daily basis.  Well maybe not a daily basis but at the very least on a weekly basis.

I mean, I don't pretend that I am a mild mannered person.  I couldn't pull off that lie if you paid me a million dollars and got me high on Godiva chocolates.  At best most days I pull off civilized with a very convincing flair. But he pushes buttons in me that only someone that I lived with for so long can push and I wish to everything holy that I could reprogram those buttons so that he can't find the combination that makes me go off like Mt. St. Helens.

This weekend we had a plan.  He kept both of the girl Friday night because he wanted to have a B-day party for Kay.  That was fine but Saturday he was supposed to drop Kay off at my moms and keep Liv.  It was part two of Kay's birthday celebration with my mom.  She bought her her favorite Microwave pizza and a small Ben and Jerry's ice cream and they were going to stay up and have a girls night.

About ten last night, my son Facebook messages me and I asked him if Kay was still there and he said yes.  The answer I was expecting was no, she left awhile ago.  But no she was there.  So I called my ex and asked him why she was still at his house when he was supposed to have dropped her off hours before.  His answer was that when he got to the house to pick her up, she was still in her pajamas and hadn't washed up.  So he left her there and went back to work.  But here's the thing, he fixes ATM's on site so when he went to work it was over an hour or two away.  Now most people would have just put her pajama clad behind in the car and taken her over to her grandmother's house because it was a promised thing.  But no, not him.  Didn't think like that.

There's not to say that there's not fault to Kay in this.  Although I'm not sure that he even told her what time he would be back for her, hence why she was still in her pjs... When I have to pick Kay up at a certain time I say that I need her dressed by a certain time and when I get there, she is dressed.  We have no problems.  I don't know what if anything he told her but I know she wasn't dressed.

Why does this annoy me so much?  Because my mother went out of her way to get stuff that Kay likes so that she would have a good time and he called her at seven to tell her that it would be eleven before he got to her.  Kay goes to bed on the weekends at eleven.  So she would have had no free time at Mom's because it would have been time for bed as soon as she got there.  He knows this.

Another thing that annoys me is that he has no respect for bedtimes in general.  When he returns them on Sunday night's it's always after nine pm.  Nine  and nine thirty are their bedtimes Sunday through Thursday.  This is not a secret. I say it every week.  We've been doing it so long that the girls actually get tired around these times.  But he repeatedly drops them off around ten.

IT makes me want to scream.  I swear I am reaching my end.

He also, and this is perhaps the most heinous of the things he does just to annoy me, brings her to my house.  The girlfriend.  She still has whatever he beef is with me leftover from when I blasted her on Facebook about not giving a crap about the other children in the household and not even stopping to see if they look okay before dragging them out of the house.  She acts like I'm loosing sleep over her not liking me and I need her to understand it's not my place in the world to like her.  I could probably give a half a rat's ass if she doesn't like me, really. I just want for my girls to be cared for when they are in her care and since they only go over there on the weekends and he works on the weekends, those weekends when she isn't at work, she's caring for my kids.  But since she has this thing, I have requested a few times that he not bring her to my house.  Not even to sit in the driveway.  I have the right to request that.  Yet he continually acts like if he just happens to have her in the car, I'm going to be okay with it.

I can't wait until we go to court for this whole custody thing.  I need to go to court.

What's in a name?

So I didn't really have to think about the N blog too much.  I've been thinking about the topic way to often as of late and figured, it deserved a blog.

Names.

When I pregnant with Olivia, The Dr. told me it looked like a girl.  information that I then sent on to my then husband.  He went to Turkey one night when the ship docked and got a tat on his upper arm of our children's names.  He sent me a picture later and I noticed that he had named our third, yet to be born child Olivia already.  I mean, how much more solid is a childs name than ink in injected into skin?  I told him that the doc wasn't sure if it was a girl and honestly, when he said we needed a kids with vowel name, Olivia was NOT where I was headed.  He then told me that if it was a boy it would be Oliver and he'd get it fixed, and if it wa a girl she would be Olivia.  No if's ans, or buts... from an Ocean away.

I so could have been the petty one and named my daughter Ysabel, or Abigail, or Iolanthe, or any number of names that start with a vowel as well as totally bucking him and going with another consonant like B because deep down I wanted to name my daughter Bronwyn.  It was in a book that I'd just read and I thought it was a good solid, unusual, but still totally awesome name.  But I was a good wife and named my child Olivia.  To be honest, I didn't like the name and further didn't like it when we went to his grandfather's home in NY for his funeral and his children from his second marriage assumed right off the bat that we had named our third child after their mother, Olivia; a woman I had never heard of nor met.  I am embarrassed to say that he made me acquiesce and agree that I had named my child after this woman that I am sure was a good woman just no one I knew anything about other than she married my then husband's grandfather and had a crap load of semi good looking kids with.

But whatever, that's in the past and Olivia is Olivia and she isn't going to change.  You will rarely hear me call her Olivia though.  I stick to Livy and other pet names.  I haven't called her Olivia on the regular ever.  Only when I am upset and trying to get her attention.

So my topic is names.  What possesses a parent to give a child a name?  Family names?  Purpose specific names?  What?

A personal favorite boys name of mine is Sebastian.  Also Nathan.  I don't see me ever putting them together for one child's name so as I see it, I need to have at least two more boys to have my two most coveted names.  I have to have so many more Girls, you'd think I was a Dugger to have all the girls names I like...

An old college buddy named her child Evian.  I asked her how she came up with that considering the trend at the time was to take actual words and turn them backwards for names.  I dared hope she wasn't doing this because Evian backwards is naive.  She outright told me because she liked the water.  I was done.

A girl that I grew up with and who I considered my best friend until middle/high school is named Semajh.  I always, always ALWAYS wondered where her parents got such an inventive name from.  They were Afrocentric, they celebrated Kwanzaa, they did all the stuff that I only read that black people do, I considered them the blackest people I knew at the time and figured the name had African roots.  I was all that more jazzed.   I had a friend with an African name!!  No.  The story I was told, not sure by whom is that they were expecting a boy and when a girl came out, they turned the name James (The name they had settled on) around and added an H.  My bubble burst all sorts of ways.  Don't get me wrong I still thought, do think that Semajh is a totally awesome name.  It's pretty and unique to me but the story behind it, too a little bit of the glitter away from it for me.

Speaking of Unique. I've met at least three women in my lifetime that named their daughters Unique. Okay sure one of them pronounced it "Uni-kay" but it was still Unique.  It seemed it was actually a popular name for a minute there.  My question is this:  If fifteen hundred other girls are named Unique, is the symbolism of the name not lost?

I have had two female friends that named their daughter's Heaven.  One who followed a trend and went with Neveah.  I personally like the backwards version.  I don't have much to say about naming your child Heaven.  Are you trying to say this is where they will go when they die or were you describing the event that created said child?

Precious.  In my experience (and yes I have had experience with this name) most girls who are named this are entitled little shits.  Yes I said it.  They think that because they are named Precious, they are precious.  Naw chickie, you might be precious but you are a precious hot mess.

And what about the moms that name their children Mercedes, Bentley, Porsche, and Royce when they know they should have gone with Yugo, Toyota, Chevy, and Dodge.  And in case you are wondering these too, are names that I have personally come across.  In this case all at one time when I was a photographer.  The mother came in and sat her children down and one by one called out the names and my mouth had to struggle not to drop on the floor.  Why?  I just wanted to ask why?

And this goes back years.  My mother once taught a set of twins named Inowseeallah and Nowiseeallah.  Yes, you read that right.  If you break it up, that was I now see Allah and Now I see Allah.  I can only wonder where those two are now a good thirty years later.

I admire people who do traditional things like name their boys Junior.  My father is a junior.  However in the case of my father, the man he is junior to, is not his father.  We don't know who his father is/was.  Something like that can seriously detriment a child.  Fortunately I don't see it done very often, actually haven't come across it other than my father but I don't understand what would possess my Grandmother to name my father Jr when that man wasn't the father. And after Junior what is next?  III, IV, and V?  That's awesome but after 18 I would change my name from Jr. to II.  It's just a maturity thing to me.

Then we have the Celebrities of today. Gwyneth named her daughter Apple.  Her son is named Moses but back to Apple.  "Because apples are whole and pure." Hmmm...

Beyonce named her daughter Blue Ivy and then went so far as to try and copyright it so no one else could name their child Blue Ivy.  Why in the hell would a sane person name their child Blue Ivy?  There was no need to try and copyright that name...

Courtney Cox named her daughter Coco.  I guess if it was good enough for Coco Chanel, it's good for Coco Cox-Arquette... (I'm a twisted individual and, for some reason I see the Cocoa Puffs bird bouncing up and down saying "I'm Cuckoo for Coco Cox!  I'm Cuckoo for Coco Cox!"  God I'm evil.)

David Duchovny named his child Kyd.  I don't even have a joke for that. I don't... I just... no...

Bono named his daughter Memphis Eve.  Coming from a guy who's name is Bono, is this really a stretch?  Just sayin...

Frank Zappa named his children Moon Unit, Dwezil, and Diva Thin Muffin... Uhm... yeah...

Rob Morrow named his son Tu so that the boys name is Tu Morrow.  Tomorrow... get it?  I want to brak out into a chorus of "The sun'll come out... Tu Morrow! Betcha bottom dollar that Tu Morrow, IT WILL SHINE!!!" But I'm thinking he gets this often.  If he doesn't, I need to start a movement. (Note, even my computer's spell check keeps auto correcting this childs name to tomorrow.)

Jermaine Jackson (The brother of the guy who named his sons Prince Micheal and Blanket (Technically Prince Michael II)) named his child Jermajesty... I really hope that this is a girl.  I really really hope so.  I also hope that she waits until he is a senile old fart and dependant on her and she beats the hell out of him for it.

(BTW, my source for that list save Beyonce was: 20 most bizarre celebrity baby names)

imagine if ANY of those children had gone into politics...

President Apple, Vice President Kyd, Secretary of state Jermajesty... Thank God they will probably want to be stars like Mom and/or dad...

And Lastly, people who names their children after Bible.  It's an inspired idea but here's the thing... the people in the bible are in there because they did great things... well except for Judas and if you name your kid Judas then you have way bigger problems than I can cover in this blog... Do some parents realize that they are setting their child up for either a great destiny or a great fall by naming them Jesus, Noah, Moses... and those are the only names I can come up with off hand that are Male.  The girls had fairly regular names... Mary, Elizabeth...  But come on, Jesus was the savior of the world and the son of God.  What exactly are you hoping your child will do when he grows up?  Be the next Messiah?  Noah built a really big ship and saved all of the animals we know today from drowning.  Are you setting your son up to be a master Shipbuilder? and Moses... well, God spoke through him and brought down an entire civilization with plagues and then split a massive sea in half so another civilization could be free.  I actually have no modern day job to compare that to.  Great Army General?  Biowarfare genius?  Awesome Scout guide?

And while the girls had fairly decent names, there was also Jezabel whose name has come to basically mean tramp and whore. Or Delilah who was a temptress, a traitor and a tease.  Rahab was a dancer.  Way to set her up for a career as a stripper, mom! Sappira is actually quite pretty and I've actually used it as a pen name but she was a woman that hid money from the church and lied to the apostles.  God personally smote her.  Don't think I'll be using that one again...ever. Eve listened to a snake and made a mistake.  I don't think she qualifies as a biblical bad girl but there ya go...

And what if your kid grows up to be a Satanist or Atheist?  "Hi, My name is Jesus and I'm a Satanist..." I don't see that going over well...

(Source: Naughty Biblical Women)

So basically after rambling this long, my point is that people should be careful what they name their children.  You may be trying to say one thing but everyone else might construe it totally different.  A name can either be a destiny path for a child or a huge yolk around their necks.  Think about that when you have an innocent, defenseless newborn in your arms and you are giving them the name that they will be known by during their entire lives and maybe afterwards.  Be kind to your kids.  Do research before you name them...

Do I play my hand or wait...?

So many of you know I tend to talk smack about my ex husband and tell our past on here but I don't usually talk about anything we are going through in the present unless I'm really mad and need to see it in writing before I figure out what to do.  Right now is one of the times of the latter except, I'm not mad, I'm just wondering do I say something now, or do I wait?

I'm going to try for a little back story here but as with my ex and ex family, I'm never sure what what they can find and how they find it so no matter how I safeguard against my writings, I try to keep it at least PG-13 when it comes to him.

In August/early September, I got a letter from Family court saying that my ex was suing me for custody of all three kids.  My son, he already has and he holds onto him like I'm going to sell the boy on the black market if he let's him near me.  His main motivation for wanting the girls is one, that K is overweight, I feed her too much. Two, their hair is always bad. And three they never have any clothes.  Maybe if he takes my reason for living away from me, I will go back to school and make something of myself.

I want to defend here, but honestly, it would be way too long and drawn out.  I would get into personal feelings and probably a few slurs and like I said above, I never know what he/they can find and what he/they can't so let's leave it at that.

I have done everything I was supposed to by the dates that they told me to and as yet, he has not.  I'm covered.  What happens to him is entirely on him.  I do know however that this court case will probably drag on forever until he sends it to the next level and that is not okay.  I think I am going to call Family Court and see if I can get the ball back to rolling because as long as he has this hanging over my head I can't really do anything without someone taking a closer look at me.  Not that it's a bad thing for them to do that but sometimes, I get tired of feeling like I'm under a microscope.  This big black cloud of a court case is hanging right over my head holding a sign that basically says "This woman, right here, is a bad mother."  I need that sign to go away.

I recently had a revelation about my child support payments and after talking to the ex and getting nowhere I decided to play on the hunch and see for myself.  From everything I can figure, everything I thought is correct but the question remains...

Do I play my hand today when he comes to pick up his girls or do I hold onto my hand and play it at a time that is probably going to advantage me the absolute most with the hefty chance that by waiting to play it then, I might screw myself in the bum?

Do you see my conundrum? I can play it and be upfront with him or I can hold it and use it when I think I need it.

His claim is that I never talk to him.  I have about a million things to say about that but I digress.  Could this be constructed as not talking to him?  Could this be like court where I'm holding evidence that could damn him but I didn't share and give him time to correct so it's not in my favor but his?

Life is too freaking complicated for this mess.  Quite honestly, I'm over it.  I can't wait until my youngest is 18.  When she turns 18, I can give it all up and do what I want to do which is be a house sitter.

I know that sounds crazy but I really want to do it.  They get to travel all over the world in some cases and be paid to take care of someone else's house.  I'd get to travel, and all I have to do in return is take in mail, take care of animals, and water plants, maybe clean up after myself.  I could do that.

I always say that if anything happens to my mother I'm not staying in NC.  I probably would until my kids were all 18 for the sheer reason of the ex would have no reason whatsoever to follow me to whatever destination I choose to be closer to his kids.  When they are 18, he can go where they are if he chooses, because where they are is not necessarily where I will be.

I just need to be done with this.  I need to be done with him.  I need to be done with trying to coordinate meet-ups, and appointments, I need for him to go back to New Mexico.  I honestly wish to hell that I had never helped facilitate his move to NC because it has been nothing except heartache and distress for me.  I'm over having to change my schedule to suit him because he pays the child support.  It dawned on my the other day that because I don't currently have a job, he expects me to be his calendar as well as drop everything I am doing to bring the kids to him.  This morning he asked me point blank "Are you going to bring them to me or do I have to come get them?"

This is going to be the real personal part of my post but do you know how badly I wanted to say, "Negro what the hell do you think?  You live past downtown!  I am not getting caught in that traffic.  YOU get caught in it and sit there. And sit there.  And sit there."

Since our divorce, I have had to cancel two meetings with people because he was late or decided to inform me at the last second he wasn't coming.  I'm tired of having to rearrange my life.

I have some thinking to do.  I have about two hours to decide if I want to play regular poker or Texas Hold'em with my info.  We shall see.

Mmmm Mmmmm MMmmm

So if you have ever listened to Weird Al Yankovic, then you know where the title of this blog comes from.  When I think of M, his song...

So I've been absent for a good minute from the alphabet blog...  I actually could consider my last blog Manless part of the Alphabet blog and call that M but tonight I think I have a good topic.

Let's talk about manners.

When I was a child, I spoke to my mother in a manner befitting the fact that I was a child and she was the adult.  In fact I spoke to all adults in the manner.  Even when I was so mad I could scream and shout and throw worlds biggest temper tantrum, I still spoke to them with the respect their age granted them.  That was how I was raised.

I don't find that this is the case now.  Children today speak to adults in such a manner that I wonder how they are still standing where they are.  Some of these kids... Man my mother would have slapped them in the next week and would be waiting there to slap them back again.  It'd be like watching a game of Pong, this week, last week, this week, last week...

I was in the store the other day and a mom was calling her little boy.  She kept screaming for him over and over.  First of all my kids know that if I have to call you more than twice, your butt is roadkill anyway.  You don't ignore mom.  The fact that this woman was in Wal-Mart screaming for her son, who turned out to be about ten and she called him a total of ten times before he even acknowledged her was a little too much for me.  When he finally did acknowledge his mother, his response was, "Will you leave me the hell alone? I'm lookin' at something!"

Does that little boy know how lucky he is that he wasn't my child????  Forgetting the fact that she called him ten times, he cussed at her AND told her to leave him alone.  If she had decided to slap the little shit across the store I would have gladly kicked him back to her so she could do it again and again.  We could have played a nice little game of soccer.  OMG! And the mom, who sadly fit every stereotype of white mothers. Come on, I'm not offending anyone here.  Throughout time there has been a distinct difference in the way white women mother and the way black women mother.  A black mother would have knocked every tooth in the boys head out.  Some white mothers would have yelled and screamed, some white mothers would have walked away, and yet still some white mothers would do with this woman did and say, "Okay but hurry up."  It was at this point that I wanted to smack the mother.

I'm not a non violent person sometimes.  I mean I don't try to be.  I would have mini strokes fifty times a day if I did try to be or think non violent thoughts all the time.  All I can say to my defense is at least I only think my violent thoughts.  I haven't actually voiced them in a few weeks since I told a woman (in wal-mart, no less) that if she didn't stop waving her hand like she was dismissing me that I would snatch her bald.  *Picture old television shows where the snooty rich person was trying to tell the help they were dismissed they would do that palm facing down go away wave with their fingertips.  This woman was doing that to me and another black man. I told her if she waved her bright yellow nails at me one more again (Yes I said that) I would snatch the hair off her head.*

Back to the woman at hand. This woman stood there for a good five minutes before she realized that the three other women in the aisle besides me were looking at her like she was stupid as hell. Then she politely announced to the boy that she was leaving and if he wasn't in the car when she left he'd be sorry and she walked away.  The boy, perhaps meaning to say it after she walked away or maybe he was actually sucky at snappy comebacks said, "Whatever. Bye!"

It was at this point I left. I just left.

And Children aren't the only ones being rude.  Since I have been down here I have faced the worst kind of Racism there is... Elderly racism.

Thanks to the Paula Dean fiasco, we are ALL aware that today's elderly generation grew up calling black people n!%%ers and coons.  It was socially acceptable back when they were young.  They did not all get the memo that times have changed and that they can have the tar beat out of them for saying that now.  And while I have been racially slurred by elderly people in the past nothing gets me more than when an elderly person says "Oh you can let me go ahead of you, you're young, and I've earned my way to the front of the line."

I kid you not, this has actually been said to me on more than one occasion by someone who is NOT family.  I mean seriously??! WTF?  Ask me if you can go ahead of me, don't tell me that deserve to go ahead of me!

Those of you that know me on Facebook know that I had an encounter with a woman (In walmart) where she had a cartful of things and I had three things and when the cashier finished ringing her purchases the woman turned to me and told me that not letting me go ahead of her in line should teach me a lesson about expecting people to let me skip line because I only had a few things.  Keep in mind that I never in any way intimated that I wanted to go ahead of her.  Nothing came out of my mouth, nothing was communicated from my eyes, or my stance that I know of.  Maybe I'm very talkative in body motions.

Being my mother's child, I have a very low tolerance for rude people no matter the age.  My grandmother raised her that way and she raised me that way.  My Great Grandmother probably didn't have to raise my grandmother to respect her elders because way back then, nobody blinked an eye when someone smacked their kid across the room.  Didn't matter what they did.  If they got a smack, they deserved it.... usually.

Ugh.  What are your thoughts on manners? I'm curious..

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...

I will survive!!

Sing to the 'I Will Survive' Parody


At first I was afraid, I was petrified!
When you said you had 10 inches, Lord I almost died,
But I'd spent oh so many years just waiting for a man that long, That I grew strong,
And I knew that I could take you on. . .



But there you are, Another lie!
I was ready for a big mac and you've bought me a French fry,
I should have known that it was bullshit,
Just a sad pathetic dream,
Should have known there was no anaconda lurking in those jeans.



Go on now go! Walk out the door!
Don't you promise me 10 inches then turn up with only 4,
Weren't you a prat to think I wouldn't catch you out,
Don't you know we' re only joking when we say size doesn't count.


(Chorus)
I will survive, I will survive!
Cos as long as I have batteries,
My sex life is gonna thrive,
I will always have good sex with a handful of latex,
I will survive, I will survive. . . hey . . .

hey!

It took all my self control not to laugh out loud,
When I saw your little weiner standing tall and proud,
But to hell with all your ego's and to hell with all your needs,
Now I'm saving all my lovin for a cordless multi speed,
Go on now go! Just make a dash,
Last time I saw a p***k that small was watching Gladstone run Unclad hash,
I should have asked for confirmation,
Should have asked for referees,
Then I wouldn't have you waving that wee winky thing at me

Go on now go! Just hit the track,
Don't you bring me home no tiddlers, Cos I'll only throw them back,
The only thing that I could do with a p***k as small as yours,
Is to stick it with a tooth pick
Dip it in tomato sauce

(Chorus)
Go on now go! Get out of my sight,
I'm going back to my appliance,
Cos I know it's length is right,
And if I ever see your tiny tockley at my door,
You'll be counting up your inches as you pick them off the floor.