so don't ask if you don't want to know
Archive for December, 2008
I'm a little skeptic
Dec 11th
I absolutely do not believe in God, but with other more earthy powers I’m a maybe. Who knows?
I spent most of yesterday tearing through my desk, living room, kitchen hutch and bathroom cabinets (don’t ask) looking for my divorce papers. Nada.
11 hours ago I posted this on twitter: have torn place apart looking for divorce papers. I just had them out last month. Where did I stash instead of filing correctly?
A while later I posted on LJ pretty much the same thing.
1 hour ago (in a private message to a friend): But I found my papers last night after. I really should clean my room more often.
A couple minutes ago I got this in an email from another friend:
Believe in Psychics or not…. Your Divorce papers, or what you’re looking for, are in your bedroom.
They’ve slipped under or behind something, possibly furniture as they’re NOT in direct light.Good luck with it all & if I don’t get another chance, Yule Blessings!
Regards (& I DO sympathise with your situation, sounds like my X),
Seriously, the folder was in a black bag tucked behind Kira’s porta-bed from when Casey stuck it in my bedroom the other night. I found it last night just before I went to bed, but didn’t post anything about it then.
My believer scale is tipping.
Mini Update
Dec 10th
Child support check is 10 days late. And I can’t find the stupid folder with my divorce papers in it to look up my number to call and find out what’s going on. I’ve torn my frakking desk apart and no sign of it. I just looked that stuff up a month ago, where could I have put it down?
Max called today. He’s in Kirkuk but his girlfriend is still in Tikrit.
Mesa’s museums are free on the first Sunday of the month now, so we took Kira out and about. We had a really good day. Casey’s growing his hair out for the first time since he was 12.
Ginnie backed into a rental car tonight. The business was closed so I made her go back up there and leave a note with her information. She says she couldn’t find a crack around the door to slide it in and didn’t want to just leave it out in the open. It’s just a mark on the fender, so I suggested she go by after school tomorrow.
Not much else going on. Biding my time.
An open letter to the father of my children
Dec 9th
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!!????!!!!!
Dude, you’re screwing this up.
Shall I go back to your only granddaughter’s birthday party you didn’t bother to attend?
Or that your daughter wanted to spend some time with you on her 18th birthday and you were too busy? The whole fucking weekend? And then you send her a birthday card in the goddamn mail. A birthday card. You live less than 5 miles away and you couldn’t be bothered to make time for her?
SHE WAS CRUSHED!
You know how sensitive she is. And yet you not only send a stupid card with an old dead $20 bill, you sign it from both you and your new girlfriend. Whom she’s barely met. The same woman you once put on the phone to berate your daughter for something that had nothing to do with her. Beyond tacky.
You can’t take the time to drop in to her work (do you even know where she works now?) or make a date or get together in some way?
I know you’re still bitter but you remember those classes we had to take (and you really should know this without a class) where they EMPHASIZED you don’t take your ex-spouse feelings out on your kids. EVER!
I don’t trash talk you to the kids, I do it elsewhere. Wish I could say the same for you. You want to know why they barely talk to you? Think about it. You’re doing this to yourself. I encourage them to call you, to try and make plans because it’s the right thing to do. But when you do bother to answer the phone, you’re either too busy to make a date or you trash me. Fucking get over it and try, TRY to be a father.
Do you even care your son is back in Iraq? Did you make any effort when he was here? Have you made any effort at ALL with any of them? And to keep trying, considering they barely had a relationship with you when we were together.
It’s not their place to make the effort. You’re their father. It’s your fucking JOB!
Well, I sure hope you’re enjoying whatever it is you are doing. It ain’t parenting.
Potty Training
Dec 8th
Huh, I need a new Kristmas Kira icon.
Over at their house, they’ve been potty training Kira. She’s still in diapers at night and when they’re out and about, but Casey can’t afford pull-ups this week (great planning dork) so she’s in panties. Last weekend it surprised me when they got here and she trucked into my bathroom (where I’ve had a potty chair for a couple of months) and did her business. Yay! No accidents that weekend, but this last weekend? Adventures. Catching her in her poop stance a little too late, and for some reason later on she waltzed out on to the front porch, squatted, and peed all over my rug.
But all in all she’s doing great. I really need to take more pictures.
Why isn't the world right?
Dec 6th
I don’t want anything special from anyone, I just want stuff to be done the way it’s supposed to be done.
Our child support check is a week late so far. I don’t know if it’s because of the company he works for screwing up or if it’s the government agency that forwards it to my account. It’s bullshit either way. Court ordered automatic deduction electronically deposited into my account. How frakking hard can it be? Seems like every time there’s a holiday the ball gets dropped and we get screwed.
Shit.
I hadn’t heard anything from the body shop about the Freelander, so I called them yesterday. More bullshit.
Shorthand:
That's what I'm saying!
Dec 4th
Or go here. I remember those days. I even remember *gasp* party lines! I, who have no patience whatsoever, have to keep this clip in mind every time I get pissed at the slowness of one service or another.
Dark Duck
Dec 4th
I’m tagged for another new meme. TSDivaDani from The Truth Seekers Podcast tagged me, and the meme is you have to go to your 6th page of flickr photos, and blog about the 6th picture. Here’s Dani’s post.
*mumbling* Flickr, my photostream, page 6, 6th picture, oh!
I love a parade, but my kids never really acquired my love and so once they were old enough to say no, I don’t go anymore. Except for the Dragon*Con parade. If you’ve never been to D*C and/or don’t know about the parade, here’s a synopsis. Saturday morning all the different interest groups gather in their quaint (and some not-so-quaint) costumes and parade through the streets of downtown Atlanta. Huge parade. To get the idea you can wander through this photo set if you haven’t already.
Friday night was a great party so none of my friends got up with me. I got out there early and sat by myself with my McDonald’s breakfast and waited. The street filled up pretty fast and I was surrounded by normals with kids, some bratty some not. Midway through the parade here comes Donald Duck and that little girl was screaming with delight. Until he headed directly towards her those screams changed from delighted to desperate in seconds. She went more ape-shit the closer he got. You could tell this wasn’t a regular gig for the guy inside. Most of those guys know to back off if the kid ain’t happy, but he kept trying to make up to her. She wasn’t buying it and her Dad finally picked her up and took off through the crowd. Donald shrugged and went off to terrorize some other small child. Fun!
Whew, that wasn’t so hard.
*mumble mumble* Find and tag some folks from your flickr list.
BusyMe, Elizasea, and Cj – You’ve Been Tagged.
What is art?
Dec 3rd
This question was posed in a teeny little seminar I attended a while ago. My opinion differed from just about everyone else there. The consensus was basically everything is art. I don’t think so.
This is art:
This is not:
This is art:
This is not:
I think . . . you have to work at art. You have to have a talent, you have to be making a point, you have to be making an effort to make the world a more beautiful place. Or if it’s painful or ugly art, you need to be making a point with it. Not just throwing crap together to make a buck.
Art is not production line. Sure, that second picture shows pretty little vases, but it’s not art. Art is really hard to describe. It has to mean something. It has to grab your attention and make you feel something.
“A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art.” ~ Paul Cézanne
