This blog-ring isn't anything special, but click on the words "Blogging Mommies ^ Daddies too!".
But be sure you're not eating or drinking anything at the time, or you'll either spray your monitor or choke to death. Trust me. ( 11:18 PM )
Listening to: 3 Doors Down, "When I'm Gone".
This page, Animate My World, has lots of links to unbelievably beautiful dollz. ( 9:46 PM )
Going to be trying to perk up the ol' site with a few graphics, most notably dollz that I pick up in my travels round the web. Here's a medieval doll for us today:
( 9:19 PM )
Ham Update: the damned thing cost almost $40!!!!!!! Cannot add enough exclamation points to adequately express my shock and horror!!!!! $40 for a slab 'o meat that over 35% of us will not enjoy!!!!!!!!!!! Had felt a little bad using $2 of the money Gramma had given me for the ham, on some gas, but if they're pissing away the dough on a freaking ham what's $2 to keep ChiChi going? ( 5:07 PM )
Listening to: Jack Johnson, "Flake"
Never made it to the library, as discovered when I went to get dressed that did not have a single clean article of clothing to wear, unless wanted to put on tights and a skirt and wear work-type clothes. Which I don't, ever. Not even for work, but I sacrifice. So, laundry had to be done, and lunch had to be made, and a shower needed to be taken, and then got distracted on sprucing up the appearance of my blog whilst waiting for the clothes to dry, and now it's almost 4 and must go pick up the fecking ham. ( 3:58 PM )
Or how about this? Yo God! Products ( 9:48 PM )
From the "Incredibly Tacky Files":
Jesus Inspirational Sport Statues
and
Gadgets for God: The 12 Days of Kitschmas.
( 9:37 PM )
Must get a ham tomorrow, and then spend 5 hours in the law library researching cases for briefs. Mom is serving ham to the relatives she has inconveniently invited over for Sunday supper. Funny thing, that... she hates ham. I hate ham. Gramma hates ham. For all we know, the relatives hate ham. But ham is easy to prepare (just throw it in a pan and throw that in the oven) so ham we shall have.
And now for something completely different: There's only so many times I can listen to some white-trash trollop complain that she'll have to grunt out another bastard so the gov't will double her welfare cheque so she can afford that wide-screen tv she's been wanting for her place back at the trailer park. ( 7:46 PM )
So, I'm doing my weekly blog-reading of people I know, and come across this gem: "And, on a final note today, this goes out to one of my readers. I know you're hurting, but that is no reason to slander someone else. Please don't do it anymore."
OK, perhaps I'm an egotist in thinking this was directed to me. If so, then ignore what I'm about to type. However, if my hunch is right and S. is indeed writing this to me, I'd just like to say something to him.
You've only discussed D's side of our problems. You never bothered to contact me and ask what my side was. I'm coming away from this marriage with, amoung many things, first-hand knowledge of the man I've loved and lived with for the past 4 years. So don't get righteous with me about a man who has discarded me and done the equivalent of taking a dump on our marriage, to vows we made to each other. You know nothing but what he's told you. Yes, he's an honest man but what he says is coloured by his emotions, as mine are. He's no more "right" or "correct" about me at this point, with so much pain and anger seething through us, than I am about him.
You just broke up with your fiancee after being together for longer than D and I; have I judged you? Have I berated you? No, and no. I could have immediately sided with her, assuming that you were a big bastard. There's an awful amount of parallel between your break up and ours, after all-- it wouldn't be a huge stretch to project my own feelings of anguish and betrayal onto your ex and immediately brand you as the antichrist.
But I don't know what really happened. I wasn't there during those private moments where relationships start to crack and crumble, and I wouldn't presume that I have anywhere near the truth of the story. So I kept my mouth shut on the issue. And I will continue to do so, because I don't have the right to tell you what's true and false and right and wrong about your relationship with her, or your reaction to her behaviour and/or treatment of you. I request that you return the favour to me. ( 7:26 PM )
Listening to: the Cherry Poppin' Daddies, "Here Comes the Snake".
Man, work sucked today. They keep admonishing me to have better communication skills, but what they want is umbilical cords connecting me to to everyone in the office constantly, telling them when I do everything including blow my nose and use the bathroom. And they give me conflicting instructions ALL THE TIME, or do/say hypocritical things (like come in hours late after scolding me for being 5 minutes late).
So, back to today in particular. My computer blew up 3 times, taking FOREVER to do the obligatory scandisk-before-rebooting thing each time, and EVERYTHING seemed to need maintenance: when it wasn't mangling the pages I needed copied, the copier needed more toner, which sprinkled all over me; fax machine needed its film replaced; L's computer needed major pruning of detritis, as it ran out of HD space and went spastic. Needless to say, I had a hell of a time actually getting any real work done, and when 2 pm rolled around, I hadn't finished the first module for January's next Pride session.
So, I stayed late to get it done. Along the way, I remembered that I have to get Andrea's map to her, so when I was done with the printing I tried to get the map done but E told me not to bother with it until Monday. Then I remembered I needed my timesheet signed, and when I went to get B to do that he decided it was intervention time. Apparently, I'm to tell them EVERYTHING I do, no matter how small, and when I'm done with it I'm to tell them IMMEDIATELY instead of waiting for an actually opportune moment.
Also, if I say I'm to leave at 2, no matter if I'm done or not, I'm to leave at 2. And if I remember something and want to finish it up quickly so it's done and not hanging over me all weekend, I mustn't. If I say I'm leaving at 2, I must apparently stand up, drop whatever I'm doing, grab my coat, and leave. Anything less, it would seem, makes people "doubt my word" as I'm not doing what I told them I would.
Of course, the fact that their requiring almost non-stop status reports is seriously effecting the speed and efficiency with which I perform my work means NOTHING. Their response? More status reports! It's just like that stupid old joke, "The beatings will continue until morale improves." With them, it's "The status reports will continue until you are doing nothing but giving us status reports why you're not getting anything done but status reports." Which would be funny if it weren't my life. ( 5:44 PM )
Listening to: You Can Leave Your Hat On by Joe Cocker. Incidentally, Etta James does a REALLY FUCKED UP version of it (perhaps it was the original?) with a weird funkadelic wahkachicka wahkachicka porn-soundtrack kinda sound to it. Bizarre.
Still feeling horrible re: marriage sitch, am medicating self with heavy doses of chocolate. Frosting straight from the can goes far for inducing choco-diabetic bliss...
Car sitch: got it back, was driving home when some wacked-out loser goes all vehicular homicide on me and just freaks out, screaming like a mental patient and trying to ram my car with his. Called the police on him, as had gotten his license number, but am doubting they'll do anything besides snigger at the weeping basket case on the phone...
Too much frosting, am feeling blechy in the stomach area now. Sigh. ( 8:54 PM )
Listening to: Little Black Backpack by Stroke 9 and We Are the Lucky Ones by Bif Naked.
Car sitch: should get it back tomorrow, received the CD playing in the post so now the Pimpmobile will be tuneful as well as transmissionful. Stupid car. Rotten kids!
Most common activity today: frenzied weeping about the smoking, blackened crater that is my marriage. Been having waaaaaaay too many reminders of "the early days" with D., with a fresh tsunami of agony accompanying each. Found the cheezy ceramic couple that once graced our wedding cake, bawled like a fool for an hour. Sometimes at night the cat will snuggle close to my side and for a brief, ecstatic moment I forget what's happened and think it's D. with his arm around me like it used to be, as it should be. And I'm happy for a very small while. Then reality crashes back and it's time for more broken sobbing.
It's late now. I have to work tomorrow. My eyes feel like I've scrubbed them with Brillo. I'm going to bed. ( 12:16 AM )
So, D. sent a masterfully-written email to my father telling him how unreasonable and awful I am in so very many ways, and emphasizing how sane and calm and logical D. is, and how patient and kind and forebearing he's been in the face of my terrible personality. He's just a magician with words, he is-- because if I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was a super guy trapped in a horrific marriage with a beast from hell.
But I do know better-- I was there. I was there before my mind and soul withered from living on that island. I was there when he gave excuse after excuse for why we couldn't move. I was there when he ignored my distress, year after year, until I couldn't take it any more.
God, we buggered it all up so badly. We had an excellent chance but neither of us were equipped to make the best of it. I blame our lack of experience and inherent selfishnesses for it-- we have problems that overwhelmed our love for each other.
I don't know how to hold all this anguish. It's too much for one person to contain. ( 7:09 PM )
Had lunch yesterday w. Mom and Gram at that diner... the one D. and I ate at the first day we met in person, after I met him at the Port Authority. Was rather excruciating, cried and acted like a withdrawn nutter.
Thing is, I wasn't crying about what's happened, but rather over the poignancy of that moment. We were filled with enthusiasm, curiosity, wariness, anticipation, love... lots of love. And hope. That's all gone now, replaced by weariness, disillusionment, pain. Always sad to see something new and glistening and beautiful die, to be replaced by something tired and old and tarnished.
My pain is becoming more bearable, settling into a dull ache from the bright sharp thing that it was last week this time. My disbelief has faded into a weary, numb acceptance. The impossible has happened, and I find that it all feels so unreal, like the past 4 years never really happened, like it was all some bizarre surreal dream and I've woken up and am puzzling the meaning hidden in the metaphor.
But just as a cigar is sometimes only a cigar, my marriage was no great significant event of destiny-- it was just a marriage. And just like cigars end up as heaps of ash, my marriage is a smoking cinder. The crater left after the bomb has been dropped. The gash left by a knife wound, the scar remaining after the surgeon has stitched it up.
( 11:08 PM )
Had my last exam tonight. Decided not to take the optional final-- had enough trouble finding time to study primary and secondary sources, let alone the entire curriculum of the entire semester. It was tricky enough to make me nervous-- I knew a lot of it, but worry that it isn't enough. Hope I'll at least get a B.
Still feeling v. angry, must find way to express it or will explode and hurt someone. Which sounds lovely, I must admit. And that's never a good sign... ( 10:57 PM )
Had my first final exam tonight, managed to blather on at length about all sorts of nonsense. Can only hope the prof. doesn't see through it-- if I get worse than an 85 I shall be v. upset, I worked hard on all that bullshit.
Don't know how I'm to get those 12 briefs done reasonably soon, must speak to her about it tomorrow re: when to turn it all in. Am hoping she'll realize my extenuating circumstances and be generous. But am not holding my breath.
Got the ring and large topaz pendant in the mail today, am now all glittery and v. glamourous. Yeehaw!
This moving thing is v. annoying, really putting a crimp in my life, which is way too overly crimped already for my comfort. ( 11:55 PM )
|
