Mr. M had his session today, they talked so long the counselor didn't even get to me! That means I was reading in the lobby trying not to fall asleep, seriously, it was difficult. Especially after all the driving. Afterwards we went to lunch and decided to pick the boys up from school and go to the park until Psycho Mom got home from work, since she never takes them.
So what pops into our minds as soon as we think of this? We GUARANTEE Psycho Mom didn't add Mr. M onto the pick-up or emergency lists at the schools. So Mr. M calls her. And guess what? WE WERE RIGHT. C.u.n.t. So she calls the schools and gets him permission to pick them up. Then she starts in on her conspiracies. It was h.i.l.a.r.i.o.u.s. to the max. Apparently she looked up the tax records, or something, on our house and found out how much we paid. No big deal. But she thinks Mr. M paid for it himself, lmao. So he tells her, yea, out of the hundreds of thousands I hid from you. Now she's really pissed. So we drop the boys off, and of course the little one gives me a huge hug and kiss, and then has to tell daddy in front of mommy that he has lipstick on from kissing me. She is one angry bitch after this.
Tomorrow the counselor comes over to our friends house that we are staying at, Mr. M's friends anyway, and plays with the kids and has my session. Only one really bad thing today, the counselor they finally decided on doesn't do psych testing, well that is in the order and it's the main reason we wanted a private counselor. So she has to find someone to do it and it will be up to $2k more. He said "I don't care what I have to pay, do it." She stressed that she takes mental health into serious consideration, but that's not enough. She needs help and if we don't see that it happens, she certainly won't. And it has nothing to do with either one of us being able to say she is certifiably psycho, it has to do with her being the best mother she can be to those boys, no matter what level of custody she has of them....
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Life is funny
We are about to leave for Philly, so I thought I'd better a post in before we head out. My trip home was nice, and, um, very interesting. As you know, my dear Mother is on marriage number 6, and this time she's hit paydirt apparently. So she quit her bakery job, which was of course only part time (mind you she has a fucking degree and has worked in the surgical prep field for about 20 years now), and got a new job, which she didn't tell anyone about. Imagine my sister's surprise when she goes to Dunkin Donuts to pick up something for her son and see's her mother through the drive thru window. She pulled away as fast as possible, without Mom seeing her.
Now I understand needing to work at Dunkin Donuts to pay bills, trust me, I've had some shitty jobs in my time, including phone psychic. I'm dead serious. BUT, she refuses to work for the hospitals cuz they won't pay her what she was making in Denver. Well duh. Our hometown is a shitty town, they CAN'T AFFORD TO PAY YOU THAT. So instead you are going to work the front counter at Dunkin Donuts for $7 an hour?
I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed or what, but I just find it funny. There is no rationale behind her choice other than she wants to look like she isn't sponging off the hubby, which she readily admits he pays all the bills. And I'm sure she isn't sending jackshit to her children she left in Colorado. And she certainly isn't making sure they go to college. I may have to open a Dunkin Donuts so they can all have jobs.
Off to fight for the boys. Please, wish us luck that whatever happens, the boys get the best care that they should.....
Now I understand needing to work at Dunkin Donuts to pay bills, trust me, I've had some shitty jobs in my time, including phone psychic. I'm dead serious. BUT, she refuses to work for the hospitals cuz they won't pay her what she was making in Denver. Well duh. Our hometown is a shitty town, they CAN'T AFFORD TO PAY YOU THAT. So instead you are going to work the front counter at Dunkin Donuts for $7 an hour?
I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed or what, but I just find it funny. There is no rationale behind her choice other than she wants to look like she isn't sponging off the hubby, which she readily admits he pays all the bills. And I'm sure she isn't sending jackshit to her children she left in Colorado. And she certainly isn't making sure they go to college. I may have to open a Dunkin Donuts so they can all have jobs.
Off to fight for the boys. Please, wish us luck that whatever happens, the boys get the best care that they should.....
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
I want what she's having
| Your Celebrity Style Twin is Nicole Richie |
 The perfect blend of uptown and downtown. |
Funny because Mr. M and I were just discussing if I could have half of whatever she is on.....
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Shall I share?
Queen is gone for the evening and I have the good fortune of AGAIN, going through the stacks and stacks of documentation from the miserable existence I had in my previous life. Doing so can be very taxing and quite depressing. The horrible instant messages, emails, handwritten letters back and forth. It's no wonder I've gotten the "what in God's name were you thinking staying with her" look from her. Unfortunately for her and fortunately for me, the Queen has given me assistance in this debacle beyond what a reasonable human being would dare consider. (Another in a long line of reasons why she is so amazing.) Perhaps it really is fortunate for the both of us in some strange way. I think it tends to keep both of us sane when we pour over the documents and can cut loose with some serious venting.
Maybe you should, too? I am giving consideration to perhaps sharing some of this mess in an effort to spread the misery. ;-) I don't want to take over the blog, mind you... but perhaps we'll "conference" upon her return and pick some selections on occasion to share and get some feedback/reactions. Perhaps it would prove helpful or maybe help you to realize that your partner "isn't all that bad." ;-) Whaddya think?
I can tell you this... despite my occasional bellyaching, I do realize that there are many people in this world a lot worse off than me, particular in light of recent events around the globe... but damn it sure is nice to bitch once in a while!
Thanks again, sweetie. For everything. Come home soon and safe.
~Mister M.
Maybe you should, too? I am giving consideration to perhaps sharing some of this mess in an effort to spread the misery. ;-) I don't want to take over the blog, mind you... but perhaps we'll "conference" upon her return and pick some selections on occasion to share and get some feedback/reactions. Perhaps it would prove helpful or maybe help you to realize that your partner "isn't all that bad." ;-) Whaddya think?
I can tell you this... despite my occasional bellyaching, I do realize that there are many people in this world a lot worse off than me, particular in light of recent events around the globe... but damn it sure is nice to bitch once in a while!
Thanks again, sweetie. For everything. Come home soon and safe.
~Mister M.
Random thoughts
My Grandmother loves me to death. I came home to homemade Pot Pie, AND Pumpkin Pie. First thing out of my sister's mouth when she walked in: "What does she do to deserve this everytime she comes home? She must keep you up on your garage sale shopping addiction or something." Hehe, no wonder my sister wants me to come home more often, she wants the good food for Sunday dinners. At least she gets to come over every Sunday, sigh.
Prince after I chose a picture for his school project: "Mom you aren't choosing that one are you? Because you look fat." Well, let me tell you mister, lmfao. I weighed like 95 lbs in the photo. He said "maybe it's the hat Mom, but you look fat." Gotta love him.
The Princess had her first slumber party. She was the first one ready to come home. She says she'll try one more before she decides she doesn't want to attend anymore. Apparently one of the girls wasn't very nice and the birthday girl was being bossy "because it was her birthday." Girls suck. Have I said that before? Girls suck.....
Prince after I chose a picture for his school project: "Mom you aren't choosing that one are you? Because you look fat." Well, let me tell you mister, lmfao. I weighed like 95 lbs in the photo. He said "maybe it's the hat Mom, but you look fat." Gotta love him.
The Princess had her first slumber party. She was the first one ready to come home. She says she'll try one more before she decides she doesn't want to attend anymore. Apparently one of the girls wasn't very nice and the birthday girl was being bossy "because it was her birthday." Girls suck. Have I said that before? Girls suck.....
Monday, September 26, 2005
If I never see a car again...
I know I've been a little snorey, boring lately. We have a LOT coming up. This past weekend we celebrated Mr. M Jr's 7th birthday. He of course had to drive to Philly to get him, as well as Mr. M's Mom who came for the weekend, 7 hrs. Then we drove them back yesterday, 7 hrs. Tomorrow I drive to my parents, 4 hrs, come back Wed night, 4 hrs. Thur night we drive back to Philly for our Fri/Sat sessions with the new custody counselor, 4 hrs. Then Sat we drive back home, 4 hrs. Can you say we are glad gas didn't hit $5 a gallon?
Today I'm trying to get everything together for the counselor. We have a ton of stuff, and Psycho Mom keeps adding to it. A couple of days before the boys came this weekend she called saying the oldest had been horrible all week. He got on the phone and proceeded to tell Dad how he wanted to die and wished he was never born because him Mom yells at him constantly and slapped him 3 times across the mouth really hard. Fabulous. This counselor better see through her fucking act, or those boys are in for a world of hurt.....
Today I'm trying to get everything together for the counselor. We have a ton of stuff, and Psycho Mom keeps adding to it. A couple of days before the boys came this weekend she called saying the oldest had been horrible all week. He got on the phone and proceeded to tell Dad how he wanted to die and wished he was never born because him Mom yells at him constantly and slapped him 3 times across the mouth really hard. Fabulous. This counselor better see through her fucking act, or those boys are in for a world of hurt.....
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
In case he wasn't listening
Queen: Hey hun, Pottery Barn has my map - look! And it's only $179
Mr. M: Hey, you're the rich one, order it
Queen: I'm trying to give you a gift idea - WRITE IT THE FUCK DOWN
It's a good thing he gets my humor.....
Mr. M: Hey, you're the rich one, order it
Queen: I'm trying to give you a gift idea - WRITE IT THE FUCK DOWN
It's a good thing he gets my humor.....
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Yesterday sucked
It was just one of those days. The nanny was freaking out, worried that she was going to be fired, needed more divorce papers, new client was being a pain in the ass, it was raining and I had to stand in it to meet a new client who had a dog I thought was going to bite my head off, we lost electricity for 3 hours, and THEN Verizon decided to screw us ONE MORE TIME, and shut off our DSL, for "nonpayment". So 30 minutes before the kids had to be at soccer I'm on the phone, on hold, to get the issue cleared up. Sure enough I get the billing department and I HAD PAID ALL THE BILLS. Duh. But they had to put a work order in to have the DSL reconnected which could take 20 mins OR 72 hours. Great. It took over 24 hours, but we finally have it back.
So then we head to soccer. It's the STBEH's week and normally the nanny would take the kids and meet him there when he gets off work. Well we decided to let her go home since we weren't going out of town or anything and were planning on going into town to see a movie for OUR FIRST WEEKEND WITHOUT TRAVEL OR KIDS IN TWO MONTHS, and could meet the STBEH ourselves. He is supposed to be there at 6. We were going to grab pizza in the sportsplex and then head to the theater. At 6:30 we decide to get the pizza since he still isn't there. At 7, I'm pissed. Half is my fault, because I forgot my cell phone and can't remember STBEH's number. Our movie starts at 7:10. Now I'm really pissed. So we head to his house, he's not there. So we head home to get the kids something to eat. Guess who's in our driveway? STBEH.
"You were supposed to be at soccer."
"Well I was stuck in traffic for an hour."
"The kids haven't eaten."
"Oh great."
I give the kids a kiss goodnight. He leaves and I go inside and leave him a message on his home voicemail. "Hi, I didn't want to say anything in front of the kids, but I would appreciate it if next time you would just go to the place we were supposed to meet. I understand you can't control traffic, but we had plans in the city and we had to drive 30 minutes home to meet you. Hope you have a nice night with the kids. Bye."
Guess who calls 30 minutes later?
"I don't appreciate having a voice message from you yelling at me. I had a really bad day, I was stuck in traffic for an hour, I have a new boss who is taking half my responsibilities from me, and (some other problem I don't remember). I left you three voicemails saying I would meet you at your house."
"Well obviously I never got those since I didn't call you back and let you know. I didn't have my cell phone and I had no idea what was going on. We had plans in the city so I didn't want to drive an hour out of our way and miss them, which we ended up doing, when you could have just driven late to the soccer place or even your house that's right down the street, rather than driving 30 minutes out of your own way, it doesn't make sense. I also had a bad day, and this is the first weekend we've been able to do anything in months."
"Well that's not my fault anymore, and next time you should have your cell phone." (Ummm, duh.)
"I didn't say it was your fault, I just have a right to be pissed as well, so stop yelling at me."
I ended the night with a stiff drink, and two Benadryl. This morning was much better.....
So then we head to soccer. It's the STBEH's week and normally the nanny would take the kids and meet him there when he gets off work. Well we decided to let her go home since we weren't going out of town or anything and were planning on going into town to see a movie for OUR FIRST WEEKEND WITHOUT TRAVEL OR KIDS IN TWO MONTHS, and could meet the STBEH ourselves. He is supposed to be there at 6. We were going to grab pizza in the sportsplex and then head to the theater. At 6:30 we decide to get the pizza since he still isn't there. At 7, I'm pissed. Half is my fault, because I forgot my cell phone and can't remember STBEH's number. Our movie starts at 7:10. Now I'm really pissed. So we head to his house, he's not there. So we head home to get the kids something to eat. Guess who's in our driveway? STBEH.
"You were supposed to be at soccer."
"Well I was stuck in traffic for an hour."
"The kids haven't eaten."
"Oh great."
I give the kids a kiss goodnight. He leaves and I go inside and leave him a message on his home voicemail. "Hi, I didn't want to say anything in front of the kids, but I would appreciate it if next time you would just go to the place we were supposed to meet. I understand you can't control traffic, but we had plans in the city and we had to drive 30 minutes home to meet you. Hope you have a nice night with the kids. Bye."
Guess who calls 30 minutes later?
"I don't appreciate having a voice message from you yelling at me. I had a really bad day, I was stuck in traffic for an hour, I have a new boss who is taking half my responsibilities from me, and (some other problem I don't remember). I left you three voicemails saying I would meet you at your house."
"Well obviously I never got those since I didn't call you back and let you know. I didn't have my cell phone and I had no idea what was going on. We had plans in the city so I didn't want to drive an hour out of our way and miss them, which we ended up doing, when you could have just driven late to the soccer place or even your house that's right down the street, rather than driving 30 minutes out of your own way, it doesn't make sense. I also had a bad day, and this is the first weekend we've been able to do anything in months."
"Well that's not my fault anymore, and next time you should have your cell phone." (Ummm, duh.)
"I didn't say it was your fault, I just have a right to be pissed as well, so stop yelling at me."
I ended the night with a stiff drink, and two Benadryl. This morning was much better.....
Friday, September 16, 2005
Too observant for his own good
Prince: Can I have one of those mints?
Queen: I'm not sure if you will like them. (Gives him one.)
Prince: Why? It's not a normal mint?
Queen: No, I'm just not sure if you will like it.
Prince: (Sucks on it for a minute) It tastes normal, is it normal? Or maybe it will give me babies?
Queen: No, it won't give you babies, silly, lol.
(I think the Prince has seen one too many birth control pills, lmao).....
FYI - I SUCK AT GRAPHICS, which is why there is no t-shirt yet.....
Queen: I'm not sure if you will like them. (Gives him one.)
Prince: Why? It's not a normal mint?
Queen: No, I'm just not sure if you will like it.
Prince: (Sucks on it for a minute) It tastes normal, is it normal? Or maybe it will give me babies?
Queen: No, it won't give you babies, silly, lol.
(I think the Prince has seen one too many birth control pills, lmao).....
FYI - I SUCK AT GRAPHICS, which is why there is no t-shirt yet.....
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Duh
Most people vacation in distinct areas, such as the beach, the mountains, vineyards, someplace they can see history, where there are theaters, etc. I love to vacation, and I usually end up in those places as well. So I've been thinking about a vacation home, however...
My house, is in the mountains.. at a lake... with three beaches... a marina... tennis courts... camping area... 15 minutes from vineyards... theaters... historic districts... very near the Nation's Capitol.
In other words, what kind of vacation home am I going to buy that gives me something I don't already have? Why am I considering the idea of a home in the country that I would have to drive 5-10 hours to get to in order to... sit at a lake, when I can go on my front porch and do that? I need to smack myself in the head.....
My house, is in the mountains.. at a lake... with three beaches... a marina... tennis courts... camping area... 15 minutes from vineyards... theaters... historic districts... very near the Nation's Capitol.
In other words, what kind of vacation home am I going to buy that gives me something I don't already have? Why am I considering the idea of a home in the country that I would have to drive 5-10 hours to get to in order to... sit at a lake, when I can go on my front porch and do that? I need to smack myself in the head.....
So, it was an uneventful ride, until... (Part 2)
It's hard to quantify the number of times I've heard the Queen say, "Oh, I NEEEEEEVERRRR get sick when I drink." For the sake of argument, let's pretend it's a dozen. Let's also pretend it's the truth. ;-)
Our weekend plans, previously described, including a trip to the Jersey shore to visit my mother (Friday night through Sunday morning) and then returning to the Bucks County area to visit some friends and run my annual Fantasy Football draft. The weather was magnificent, my friends are really cool, and I knew for sure that Queen would hit-it-off with the host's wife (she did) which would make her day more than just watching 12-guys acting like a bunch of children about football.
We drink. The draft itself lasts about 2-1/2 hours, after which, we play Texas Hold'em. In order to have a full table, Queen is invited to join us. I gotta tell ya, folks, for her first ever tournament, she played extremely well - finished 3rd out of 8. If not for some rookie mistakes (primarily understanding betting strategy in about 3 instances), she might have had a serious shot to win this thing. Anyway, everyone is else is drinking beer, I decide to make us some relative powerful screwdrivers. I had 2. That was plenty. Queen had 3, maybe 4, I don't quite remember. She was plowed. Hammered. Wasted. We're talking, totalled.
It's now 4 hours since the start of the tournament, a winner has been decided, and we decided we want to have Labor Day to ourselves, we're rolling home tonight instead of staying over until Monday.
Queen is making rounds with me saying our good-byes... and hers sounds something like:
Queen: "Shan, flah fla flahthen, greatth meethot to flou an' you hathta come down *eerp* and vithist us and we anbldfk lhfdkjal lhaljgh..."
This effort is repeated a couple of times and I exaggerate, if only slightly, for effect. She fell short of being embarrassing. I steady her efforts to the car and we're off. She's truly a mess, despite her trying really hard (as she often does) to convince me that she's not inebriated. She gives up that attempt when she realizes that she's obliterated for real.
I need to get my usual road-coffee and stop in Dunkin Donuts to grab a large with a Boston Creme or two. I front-end-in to the parking spot and I want you readers to look to the right and see that large Ford Expedition with 2 moms outside of it with 4 kids kicking around a soccer ball. I probably wouldn't have taken notice to this except that when I come outside, the passenger side (moms and childrens side) door is open, and I can't see Queen's head. Uh-oh, she's leaning out the door. Calmly, I get in the driver's side and ask the ridiculous question any of us would ask in the same situation, "Queen, are you feeling okay?" *rolleyes* Oh yeah, doof, she's hanging out the car with no regard for the people in the parking lot because she is feeling great. Duh. She tells me she is "sorta" feeling "kinda" sick, but she "NEVER" pukes after having too much to drink.
I suggest she go into the Dunkin Donuts bathroom and try to get herself together and I escort here there. She goes in, she comes out a few minutes later telling me that she seems okay. Fair enough, we're both in the car and we're off, but only for a few seconds as I hear a groan along with the dreaded phrase, "Oh my God, I'm gonna be sick!" I quickly swing the car into the parking lot of the Courtyard Suites, conciously making an effort to put the car in a spot where she can't be seen from the hotel nor the highway. She flings the door open and begins to unload... "Braaaaap... Braaaaaaap... huuuuuuurl... heaavvvvvvvve..." ...she is really cutting loose. I'm rubbing her back, telling her to hang in there, I know it's horrible (I despise getting sick) and to take all the time she needs. After what seemed like 10 or 15 minutes, she settles down. I know she needs SOMETHING to drink or at least wash her mouth out so I depart the car and head into hotel. I tell the front-desk that I have a child in the car ;-) who isn't feeling well and I need some water, please direct me to a vending machine... which she does.
Back out to the car we go, Queen does several rinse outs and tells me she's better and we're off again... for about one mile. The on-ramp for the PA Turnpike is a nice big loop and I get a repeat show of the cry "I'm gonna be sick!" ... and I wing the car into a side lot before getting to the toll booths. She quickly flings the door open and is unloading again. This time, it lasts nearly 40-minutes. Now, this side lot is quite large and there is plenty of room for other people who may need to pull over to keep the frig away from me. Not only does some woman come too close for my comfort, she stops on Queen's side and get's a froth show of spew into the gravel. I sit there and give this woman a stare that screams, "If you don't find some other place to take a break, I'm going to fucking kill you." Eventually, she sees me staring and rolls away to another area.
I continue to reassure Queen the best I can and tell her to take all the time she needs. I then fire up a handful of games of Tetris on my cellphone while listening to the hurl-show going on in the seat next to me. No fewer than 40 minutes later, we on our way... for about 3 exits. Yes, you guessed it... I get the cry "Oh gosh, I'm gonna be sick again!" ...and I manage a 3 lane shift at high speed without getting into or causing a wreck. I don't even think the car was actually stopped before she flung open the door and started again. At this point, I'm thinking to myself, "Where is all this coming from? It's not like she ate all that much during the day..."
She is finally done for real but now has slumped over in the front seat with her head dangerously close to the dashboard. But she is out cold. I proceed to drive like a maniac down the pike without my usual and customary protection. No radar detector, no CB, nothing (and you can see where this is going to lead). We're almost at our usual "pit-stop" (the exchange point) and the dreaded look in the rear-view shows me the flashing lights of Trooper Jordan. "Oh, you fucking have to be kidding me." I mutter as I begin to pull over. I'm pissed because, I kid you not, I'm about 500-feet from my exit. Queen wakes up looking like death warmed over and manages to shuffle through the glove compartment for the registration as Trooper Jordan and I exchange the kind of friendly banter a ticketer and a ticketee exchange when one of them isn't a cop-killer. Trooper Jordan cuts me some serious slack having clocked me allegedly doing 81 in a 65 zone. He tells me that he'd like to give me a warning, but that was just "way too fast and he gives me a speeding ticket for 71 in a 65... yes, only 6-over. I graciously accept the ticket, wish Trooper Jordan a wonderful balance of his weekend and roll on to the pit-stop.
Queen does her thing, I do mine and the rest of the ride home was uneventful. I help her get ready for and into bed and she is gone until the late morning.
The moral of the story is this... If you are out drinking with the Queen and you think she needs to take it a little easy (as sometimes happens, but not too often) - AND she tells you, "I NEEEEVERRRR puke from drinking!" ...she's a liar ;-) If she wasn't before Labor Day weekend 2005.
Our weekend plans, previously described, including a trip to the Jersey shore to visit my mother (Friday night through Sunday morning) and then returning to the Bucks County area to visit some friends and run my annual Fantasy Football draft. The weather was magnificent, my friends are really cool, and I knew for sure that Queen would hit-it-off with the host's wife (she did) which would make her day more than just watching 12-guys acting like a bunch of children about football.
We drink. The draft itself lasts about 2-1/2 hours, after which, we play Texas Hold'em. In order to have a full table, Queen is invited to join us. I gotta tell ya, folks, for her first ever tournament, she played extremely well - finished 3rd out of 8. If not for some rookie mistakes (primarily understanding betting strategy in about 3 instances), she might have had a serious shot to win this thing. Anyway, everyone is else is drinking beer, I decide to make us some relative powerful screwdrivers. I had 2. That was plenty. Queen had 3, maybe 4, I don't quite remember. She was plowed. Hammered. Wasted. We're talking, totalled.
It's now 4 hours since the start of the tournament, a winner has been decided, and we decided we want to have Labor Day to ourselves, we're rolling home tonight instead of staying over until Monday.
Queen is making rounds with me saying our good-byes... and hers sounds something like:
Queen: "Shan, flah fla flahthen, greatth meethot to flou an' you hathta come down *eerp* and vithist us and we anbldfk lhfdkjal lhaljgh..."
This effort is repeated a couple of times and I exaggerate, if only slightly, for effect. She fell short of being embarrassing. I steady her efforts to the car and we're off. She's truly a mess, despite her trying really hard (as she often does) to convince me that she's not inebriated. She gives up that attempt when she realizes that she's obliterated for real.
I need to get my usual road-coffee and stop in Dunkin Donuts to grab a large with a Boston Creme or two. I front-end-in to the parking spot and I want you readers to look to the right and see that large Ford Expedition with 2 moms outside of it with 4 kids kicking around a soccer ball. I probably wouldn't have taken notice to this except that when I come outside, the passenger side (moms and childrens side) door is open, and I can't see Queen's head. Uh-oh, she's leaning out the door. Calmly, I get in the driver's side and ask the ridiculous question any of us would ask in the same situation, "Queen, are you feeling okay?" *rolleyes* Oh yeah, doof, she's hanging out the car with no regard for the people in the parking lot because she is feeling great. Duh. She tells me she is "sorta" feeling "kinda" sick, but she "NEVER" pukes after having too much to drink.
I suggest she go into the Dunkin Donuts bathroom and try to get herself together and I escort here there. She goes in, she comes out a few minutes later telling me that she seems okay. Fair enough, we're both in the car and we're off, but only for a few seconds as I hear a groan along with the dreaded phrase, "Oh my God, I'm gonna be sick!" I quickly swing the car into the parking lot of the Courtyard Suites, conciously making an effort to put the car in a spot where she can't be seen from the hotel nor the highway. She flings the door open and begins to unload... "Braaaaap... Braaaaaaap... huuuuuuurl... heaavvvvvvvve..." ...she is really cutting loose. I'm rubbing her back, telling her to hang in there, I know it's horrible (I despise getting sick) and to take all the time she needs. After what seemed like 10 or 15 minutes, she settles down. I know she needs SOMETHING to drink or at least wash her mouth out so I depart the car and head into hotel. I tell the front-desk that I have a child in the car ;-) who isn't feeling well and I need some water, please direct me to a vending machine... which she does.
Back out to the car we go, Queen does several rinse outs and tells me she's better and we're off again... for about one mile. The on-ramp for the PA Turnpike is a nice big loop and I get a repeat show of the cry "I'm gonna be sick!" ... and I wing the car into a side lot before getting to the toll booths. She quickly flings the door open and is unloading again. This time, it lasts nearly 40-minutes. Now, this side lot is quite large and there is plenty of room for other people who may need to pull over to keep the frig away from me. Not only does some woman come too close for my comfort, she stops on Queen's side and get's a froth show of spew into the gravel. I sit there and give this woman a stare that screams, "If you don't find some other place to take a break, I'm going to fucking kill you." Eventually, she sees me staring and rolls away to another area.
I continue to reassure Queen the best I can and tell her to take all the time she needs. I then fire up a handful of games of Tetris on my cellphone while listening to the hurl-show going on in the seat next to me. No fewer than 40 minutes later, we on our way... for about 3 exits. Yes, you guessed it... I get the cry "Oh gosh, I'm gonna be sick again!" ...and I manage a 3 lane shift at high speed without getting into or causing a wreck. I don't even think the car was actually stopped before she flung open the door and started again. At this point, I'm thinking to myself, "Where is all this coming from? It's not like she ate all that much during the day..."
She is finally done for real but now has slumped over in the front seat with her head dangerously close to the dashboard. But she is out cold. I proceed to drive like a maniac down the pike without my usual and customary protection. No radar detector, no CB, nothing (and you can see where this is going to lead). We're almost at our usual "pit-stop" (the exchange point) and the dreaded look in the rear-view shows me the flashing lights of Trooper Jordan. "Oh, you fucking have to be kidding me." I mutter as I begin to pull over. I'm pissed because, I kid you not, I'm about 500-feet from my exit. Queen wakes up looking like death warmed over and manages to shuffle through the glove compartment for the registration as Trooper Jordan and I exchange the kind of friendly banter a ticketer and a ticketee exchange when one of them isn't a cop-killer. Trooper Jordan cuts me some serious slack having clocked me allegedly doing 81 in a 65 zone. He tells me that he'd like to give me a warning, but that was just "way too fast and he gives me a speeding ticket for 71 in a 65... yes, only 6-over. I graciously accept the ticket, wish Trooper Jordan a wonderful balance of his weekend and roll on to the pit-stop.
Queen does her thing, I do mine and the rest of the ride home was uneventful. I help her get ready for and into bed and she is gone until the late morning.
The moral of the story is this... If you are out drinking with the Queen and you think she needs to take it a little easy (as sometimes happens, but not too often) - AND she tells you, "I NEEEEVERRRR puke from drinking!" ...she's a liar ;-) If she wasn't before Labor Day weekend 2005.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
So it was an uneventful ride, until... (Part 1)
Hello, everyone. I'm giddy with excitement being offered the keys to the kingdom.
So it's Friday, September 2nd, 2005... a day like any other day...
Well not really - we roll out to spend some time watching the Prince and Princess go through their soccer exercises before rolling up I-81 to meet Psychex at the exchange point. Keep in mind, this particular weekend, I was actually willing to drop them off to her door only because we were going to visit my mother at the Jersey Shore and, being the good-natured guy I am, I wouldn't have normally made her drive all the way out to the exchange point in Carlisle, PA. However, I gave her yet another in a long line of opportunities to be cooperative about a week earlier. Queen and I are considering taking all of the children to NYC for a weekend site tour and given that we would be flying in and out of Dulles, I asked Psychex if she would be willing to meet us in Carlisle due to the heavy travel day. You already know the answer I received, so I figured "fuck it" - she can drive all the way out to Carlisle then.
It's important to know that in an effort to minimize the wait-time at the exchange point, I tell Psychex to be prepared for my phone call (at a pre-determined time) and be ready to leave when I call. The last few times, she hasn't heeded that, oddly - leaving before I actually call and I assume it's in an attempt to try to set herself up as being made to wait for me at the exchange point. Fortunately, I'm also punctual and our meeting time is set for 8PM.
You've read about my mild apprehension of allowing us to be "seen" heading in the same direction as her, but I gave-in to the Queen's desire to play it as "innocently" as possible. Frankly, I should have been more than happy to do this given that in the last 18-months, I am hard-pressed to think of one time where she actually did me a favor to help out with some issue with which I may have needed help.
All right, you want me to get on with the story...
As we roll towards the Carlisle, I make my "check-in" call about 15-minutes out and Psychex informs me that she is only "2-minutes" away. Great, no muss, no fuss. We roll up and guess who isn't there? Yep, Psychex. Keep in mind, she left fully 15-minutes before she "should have" and she's still not there on time (or maybe she was lying again, who knows).
We wait. I call. She was "wrong" about where she was, but should be here in "2 minutes" (Notice a pattern here?) 2 = 10 at least, so we get the boys into the station to do their "pit-stop" and given that Queen and I haven't eaten, the two of us grab some sammiches at Wendy's to go! ;)
We get back outside... and continue to wait. She finally arrives and in a mildly humorous exchange, the woman in the car next to us is exchanging her little boy with her ex and Queen, myself, and the mystery woman exchange pleasantries about this being a "great child exchange point." (Visualize the uncomfortable, fake chuckles.)
Hugs and kisses are exchanged with "Little M" and "Big A" and Psychex picks up Little M who immediately says, "Mommy, we told Queen and Daddy all the bad things that Pop-Pop says about her." Psychex offers him the obligatory, in front of the evil couple, "I know Little M, that's not nice and he shouldn't do that..." as she whisks the boys off to her brand new mini-SUV.
Queen and I hop in her car with our crapass dinner and the Psychex, along with PsychSIL are taking forever to get the boys loaded and locked. Queen suggests I pretend to be talking on the cellphone, and I never turn down a chance to make her laugh, so I feign having an obnoxious conversation with no one on the other end, complete with overdone laughter and other creepy and disturbing facial expressions.
Psychex rolls by, and without hesitation, Queen prompts, "Go! Go! Go!" like something out of a Starsky and Hutch episode. I tell her to relax, we'll give her a one-light head start. I have EZPass and she doesn't, so she still has to contend with the toll booth and she knows that, the way I drive, we'll soon catch up... which we do...
I'm behind her a car-length when we decide to nonchalantly pass her like she's any other traffic - we're not going to do any obnoxious wave, smile, stick our tongues out... none of that... just cruise by slow enough to be noticed and keep moving. Queen insists that she's going to call and I doubt it (foolishly).
We slowly roll by and get about 5 car-lengths in front of her and I pull into the right lane and set the cruise control for 70 and I have the eyes on the rear view. It's not long before I notice the gap closing between us and I tell Queen, "Here she comes..." as I start to punch it... figuring she'll give up chasing because you're really not supposed to brutalize a brand new vehicle like that, PLUS... she has my kids in the car!!! 75 becomes 80 and 80 becomes 85... and I level off there and she is STILL coming. So I back it down a bit and let her accomplish what she has set out to do and she passes us, pulling into the right lane a few car lengths ahead.
RIIING-RIIING... RIIING-RIIING... The cellphone starts crying... and it's Psychex. I don't pick up, opting to allow whatever diatribe she is going to bring to hit the voice mail and then I'll consider calling her back. The diatribe:
(Agitated voice) Hey it's me, it's Friday, it's 8:30 and I see you on the turnpike in my direction and I'm wondering why it is that you're making me drive all the way out to Carlisle when you were coming down this way. So, in the future... yeah, I will definitely bring it up in our, ummm... evaluation and I will bring it up, ummmm... to my lawyer when I speak to him on Tuesday. Thank you. Unbelievable! Don't ask me for anymore favors!" *click*
Yeah, well here's a big, hearty FUCK YOU. What's truly bothersome about this is that last comment. Perhaps I've asked her for a half-dozen "favors" in 18-months. Most, if not all, have probably been to meet me in Carlisle instead of making me do the 7-8 hour round trip on both Fridays and Sundays (as we have to do) during the school months. The ONE time she did it, it was on the condition that I gave her gas money. The 2nd time, she made me meet her an hour further down the turnpike than the half-way point. After that, she just stopped.
So, I think about it and decide I'm gonna leave her a VM back.
(Cool Guy Assbag Voice) "Hey, got your message and I just wanted to say (something entirely too long-fucking-winded and disjointed that didn't sound as cool as I felt when I first dialed the number) and... (Looking at Queen now without terminating the VM) ...I'm not sending this message because I sound like a complete fucking idiot and I've said way too Goddamned much!" (I hit the cancel VM option and hang up.) Queen laughs at me while shaking her head and saying, "Uh, yeah!"
I laugh, tell her I have to rethink it and try again... after about 5-minutes of formulating what it is I'm going to say, I dial the VM number...
(Cool Guy Assbag Voice) "Uh, yeah, got your message, and I gotta tell ya, you have some nerve telling me not to ask you for any more favors! What favors have you done for me... (something else entirely too long-fucking-winded and disjointed that didn't sound as cool as I felt when I first dialed the number but I continue to a finish) ...and I tell you something else, don't be calling me up with these angry diatribes in the company of the children!!!" (Unbeknownst to Queen, prior to hanging up, I hit the cancel button because the message sucked) and I *click* - hang it up and look at Queen matter-of-factly and say nothing for just a few seconds. Just looking like Cool Assbag Guy. Then I say to her, "I didn't send it. That was just as dumb as the first one and I don't feel like leaving anything on tape now, mostly because I sound like a tool." She laughs.
So... I think it over for a while, I look at Queen and say, "I've got it! I'm gonna call her LIVE! I know she can't tape me and I much better at the riot-act live than I am on tape." Queen agrees and I call her and semi-unload. I laugh at her "don't ask me about anymore favors" line and ask her what favors she's even done me (she can't answer). I give her the business about going off in front of the children and she contends that they didn't hear. *rolleyes* ...and generally get some satisfaction out of planting the seed that if she calls her attorney she will look like a moron because... a) She has no idea where we are going or where we are getting off of the turnpike... and b) Even if I was going to her neighbor's house, there is nothing she can do as our agreement is very specific about the summertime children exchange.
I'm happy with the effort.
For the next little while, Queen and I joke about things we "would like to say but won't" - which in and of itself was great fun. My favorite idea that we were not going to do was to park out in front of her house and when everyone got out of the car exclaim, "We really just are going to miss them and wanted to give them one more kiss goodnight!"
(I hope this was worth the wait.)
So it's Friday, September 2nd, 2005... a day like any other day...
Well not really - we roll out to spend some time watching the Prince and Princess go through their soccer exercises before rolling up I-81 to meet Psychex at the exchange point. Keep in mind, this particular weekend, I was actually willing to drop them off to her door only because we were going to visit my mother at the Jersey Shore and, being the good-natured guy I am, I wouldn't have normally made her drive all the way out to the exchange point in Carlisle, PA. However, I gave her yet another in a long line of opportunities to be cooperative about a week earlier. Queen and I are considering taking all of the children to NYC for a weekend site tour and given that we would be flying in and out of Dulles, I asked Psychex if she would be willing to meet us in Carlisle due to the heavy travel day. You already know the answer I received, so I figured "fuck it" - she can drive all the way out to Carlisle then.
It's important to know that in an effort to minimize the wait-time at the exchange point, I tell Psychex to be prepared for my phone call (at a pre-determined time) and be ready to leave when I call. The last few times, she hasn't heeded that, oddly - leaving before I actually call and I assume it's in an attempt to try to set herself up as being made to wait for me at the exchange point. Fortunately, I'm also punctual and our meeting time is set for 8PM.
You've read about my mild apprehension of allowing us to be "seen" heading in the same direction as her, but I gave-in to the Queen's desire to play it as "innocently" as possible. Frankly, I should have been more than happy to do this given that in the last 18-months, I am hard-pressed to think of one time where she actually did me a favor to help out with some issue with which I may have needed help.
All right, you want me to get on with the story...
As we roll towards the Carlisle, I make my "check-in" call about 15-minutes out and Psychex informs me that she is only "2-minutes" away. Great, no muss, no fuss. We roll up and guess who isn't there? Yep, Psychex. Keep in mind, she left fully 15-minutes before she "should have" and she's still not there on time (or maybe she was lying again, who knows).
We wait. I call. She was "wrong" about where she was, but should be here in "2 minutes" (Notice a pattern here?) 2 = 10 at least, so we get the boys into the station to do their "pit-stop" and given that Queen and I haven't eaten, the two of us grab some sammiches at Wendy's to go! ;)
We get back outside... and continue to wait. She finally arrives and in a mildly humorous exchange, the woman in the car next to us is exchanging her little boy with her ex and Queen, myself, and the mystery woman exchange pleasantries about this being a "great child exchange point." (Visualize the uncomfortable, fake chuckles.)
Hugs and kisses are exchanged with "Little M" and "Big A" and Psychex picks up Little M who immediately says, "Mommy, we told Queen and Daddy all the bad things that Pop-Pop says about her." Psychex offers him the obligatory, in front of the evil couple, "I know Little M, that's not nice and he shouldn't do that..." as she whisks the boys off to her brand new mini-SUV.
Queen and I hop in her car with our crapass dinner and the Psychex, along with PsychSIL are taking forever to get the boys loaded and locked. Queen suggests I pretend to be talking on the cellphone, and I never turn down a chance to make her laugh, so I feign having an obnoxious conversation with no one on the other end, complete with overdone laughter and other creepy and disturbing facial expressions.
Psychex rolls by, and without hesitation, Queen prompts, "Go! Go! Go!" like something out of a Starsky and Hutch episode. I tell her to relax, we'll give her a one-light head start. I have EZPass and she doesn't, so she still has to contend with the toll booth and she knows that, the way I drive, we'll soon catch up... which we do...
I'm behind her a car-length when we decide to nonchalantly pass her like she's any other traffic - we're not going to do any obnoxious wave, smile, stick our tongues out... none of that... just cruise by slow enough to be noticed and keep moving. Queen insists that she's going to call and I doubt it (foolishly).
We slowly roll by and get about 5 car-lengths in front of her and I pull into the right lane and set the cruise control for 70 and I have the eyes on the rear view. It's not long before I notice the gap closing between us and I tell Queen, "Here she comes..." as I start to punch it... figuring she'll give up chasing because you're really not supposed to brutalize a brand new vehicle like that, PLUS... she has my kids in the car!!! 75 becomes 80 and 80 becomes 85... and I level off there and she is STILL coming. So I back it down a bit and let her accomplish what she has set out to do and she passes us, pulling into the right lane a few car lengths ahead.
RIIING-RIIING... RIIING-RIIING... The cellphone starts crying... and it's Psychex. I don't pick up, opting to allow whatever diatribe she is going to bring to hit the voice mail and then I'll consider calling her back. The diatribe:
(Agitated voice) Hey it's me, it's Friday, it's 8:30 and I see you on the turnpike in my direction and I'm wondering why it is that you're making me drive all the way out to Carlisle when you were coming down this way. So, in the future... yeah, I will definitely bring it up in our, ummm... evaluation and I will bring it up, ummmm... to my lawyer when I speak to him on Tuesday. Thank you. Unbelievable! Don't ask me for anymore favors!" *click*
Yeah, well here's a big, hearty FUCK YOU. What's truly bothersome about this is that last comment. Perhaps I've asked her for a half-dozen "favors" in 18-months. Most, if not all, have probably been to meet me in Carlisle instead of making me do the 7-8 hour round trip on both Fridays and Sundays (as we have to do) during the school months. The ONE time she did it, it was on the condition that I gave her gas money. The 2nd time, she made me meet her an hour further down the turnpike than the half-way point. After that, she just stopped.
So, I think about it and decide I'm gonna leave her a VM back.
(Cool Guy Assbag Voice) "Hey, got your message and I just wanted to say (something entirely too long-fucking-winded and disjointed that didn't sound as cool as I felt when I first dialed the number) and... (Looking at Queen now without terminating the VM) ...I'm not sending this message because I sound like a complete fucking idiot and I've said way too Goddamned much!" (I hit the cancel VM option and hang up.) Queen laughs at me while shaking her head and saying, "Uh, yeah!"
I laugh, tell her I have to rethink it and try again... after about 5-minutes of formulating what it is I'm going to say, I dial the VM number...
(Cool Guy Assbag Voice) "Uh, yeah, got your message, and I gotta tell ya, you have some nerve telling me not to ask you for any more favors! What favors have you done for me... (something else entirely too long-fucking-winded and disjointed that didn't sound as cool as I felt when I first dialed the number but I continue to a finish) ...and I tell you something else, don't be calling me up with these angry diatribes in the company of the children!!!" (Unbeknownst to Queen, prior to hanging up, I hit the cancel button because the message sucked) and I *click* - hang it up and look at Queen matter-of-factly and say nothing for just a few seconds. Just looking like Cool Assbag Guy. Then I say to her, "I didn't send it. That was just as dumb as the first one and I don't feel like leaving anything on tape now, mostly because I sound like a tool." She laughs.
So... I think it over for a while, I look at Queen and say, "I've got it! I'm gonna call her LIVE! I know she can't tape me and I much better at the riot-act live than I am on tape." Queen agrees and I call her and semi-unload. I laugh at her "don't ask me about anymore favors" line and ask her what favors she's even done me (she can't answer). I give her the business about going off in front of the children and she contends that they didn't hear. *rolleyes* ...and generally get some satisfaction out of planting the seed that if she calls her attorney she will look like a moron because... a) She has no idea where we are going or where we are getting off of the turnpike... and b) Even if I was going to her neighbor's house, there is nothing she can do as our agreement is very specific about the summertime children exchange.
I'm happy with the effort.
For the next little while, Queen and I joke about things we "would like to say but won't" - which in and of itself was great fun. My favorite idea that we were not going to do was to park out in front of her house and when everyone got out of the car exclaim, "We really just are going to miss them and wanted to give them one more kiss goodnight!"
(I hope this was worth the wait.)
Thursday, September 08, 2005
He's a gem
Mr. M: How come this pan is in the sink to be washed?
Queen: Because you don't put pans in the dishwasher, they don't get clean.
Mr. M: I put them in the dishwasher.
Queen: I know. And I wash them when they come out.
Mr. M: Why don't you tell me to wash them?
Queen: Because I know you'd just put it in the dishwasher again.
Mr. M: Oh my God, you are so right
And now, he has the keys to the blog, look out folks.....
Queen: Because you don't put pans in the dishwasher, they don't get clean.
Mr. M: I put them in the dishwasher.
Queen: I know. And I wash them when they come out.
Mr. M: Why don't you tell me to wash them?
Queen: Because I know you'd just put it in the dishwasher again.
Mr. M: Oh my God, you are so right
And now, he has the keys to the blog, look out folks.....
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
I'm too tired
I'm here, not feeling well. The Prince had an earache today, poor guy was crying. The Princess has a sore throat, and I haven't felt well since an incident on Sunday. Trying to get Mr. M to guest blog about that, as he has waaaaay more recollection than I do of our evening on the PA Turnpike.
The drive to drop off the boys was GREAT FUN. Seriously. First, don't think I've gone over it but the boys reported Psycho Mom's family saying "mean" things about us when they came home last time. So Mr. M of course asked Psycho Mom about it and she didn't think he was doing anything wrong - SURPRISE. Seeing as how she was encouraging it, we kinda figured she wouldn't see anything wrong with it. So, we dropped off the boys and the first thing out of younger son's mouth was: "I told Queen what grandpa said." LMFAO. Her face turned bright red, she walked away with him and said "Grandpa shouldn't say those things, it's not nice." What the fuck ever cunt.
So, they FINALLY get out of the parking lot and we give them a one light head start. We catch up about 5 minutes later and pass her nonchalantly. We stay about 30 ft in front of her to see if she will speed up to make sure it's us. Takes her about a full minute to figure it out - speeds up to 85 mph to catch up, and passes us. Ten seconds later, Mr. M's phone rings. He lets it go to voicemail. She berates him for making her drive and not saving her gas money, and SHE WILL NEVER DO HIM ANOTHER FAVOR. I almost split a gut laughing. Cunt, we just asked you to meet us ONE FUCKING WAY so we could take YOUR KIDS to New York City, and you said NO. Why did you say no? Because "Mr. M is making your life hell and you won't spend a dime to help him". NEVER MIND YOUR FUCKING CHILDREN. Your children who WANT to go. Who WANT to get home at a normal time. And you can't give up TWO FUCKING hours of your time to make it happen.
So then, we had another surprise waiting for her - the picture of us in Hershey Park. She got that little present the next day, and as expected, Mr. M got a call. Because you know, it has nothing to do with her kids who wanted the picture for their bedroom, only the pain it causes HER that Mr. M is happy. Nevermind the fact that we have two build a bears for the boys here from HER that have her whiney ass crying voice saying "what a good boy you are", like they are fucking dogs, in our house. Did we throw a fit about that? Nope.
Now, everyone tell Mr. M he should GUEST BLOG.....
The drive to drop off the boys was GREAT FUN. Seriously. First, don't think I've gone over it but the boys reported Psycho Mom's family saying "mean" things about us when they came home last time. So Mr. M of course asked Psycho Mom about it and she didn't think he was doing anything wrong - SURPRISE. Seeing as how she was encouraging it, we kinda figured she wouldn't see anything wrong with it. So, we dropped off the boys and the first thing out of younger son's mouth was: "I told Queen what grandpa said." LMFAO. Her face turned bright red, she walked away with him and said "Grandpa shouldn't say those things, it's not nice." What the fuck ever cunt.
So, they FINALLY get out of the parking lot and we give them a one light head start. We catch up about 5 minutes later and pass her nonchalantly. We stay about 30 ft in front of her to see if she will speed up to make sure it's us. Takes her about a full minute to figure it out - speeds up to 85 mph to catch up, and passes us. Ten seconds later, Mr. M's phone rings. He lets it go to voicemail. She berates him for making her drive and not saving her gas money, and SHE WILL NEVER DO HIM ANOTHER FAVOR. I almost split a gut laughing. Cunt, we just asked you to meet us ONE FUCKING WAY so we could take YOUR KIDS to New York City, and you said NO. Why did you say no? Because "Mr. M is making your life hell and you won't spend a dime to help him". NEVER MIND YOUR FUCKING CHILDREN. Your children who WANT to go. Who WANT to get home at a normal time. And you can't give up TWO FUCKING hours of your time to make it happen.
So then, we had another surprise waiting for her - the picture of us in Hershey Park. She got that little present the next day, and as expected, Mr. M got a call. Because you know, it has nothing to do with her kids who wanted the picture for their bedroom, only the pain it causes HER that Mr. M is happy. Nevermind the fact that we have two build a bears for the boys here from HER that have her whiney ass crying voice saying "what a good boy you are", like they are fucking dogs, in our house. Did we throw a fit about that? Nope.
Now, everyone tell Mr. M he should GUEST BLOG.....
Friday, September 02, 2005
She can't tell the truth to save her life
So, more shit from Psycho Mom. She lies. About everything. We know this. But sometimes you go - WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING. I mean she LIES about things that we can EASILY check. Like canceled checks. And calling the school. So this month it's about upcoming childcare and tuition expenses. (Of course she STILL hasn't paid us a dime for childcare for the summer.) So her list goes like this:
Tuition for younger son: $350 a month
Aftercare for younger son: $50 a week
Aftercare for older son: $160 a month
We HAVE THIS IN WRITING from her. So Mr. M calls the schools today to check, because as we found out last year she was paying WAY less than she told the judge and which Mr. M was ordered to pay. These are the actual costs:
Tuition for younger son: $285 a month
Aftercare for younger son: $45 a week
Aftercare for older son: $120 a month
Think someone wants us to pay her new car payment? Yea, that's right. Miss I'm so fucking broke because of you (um how is that possible when Mr. M pays HER child support?) just bought a brand new car because her car with 89,000 miles on it wasn't good enough. Fuck you cunt.
So tonight will be fun. Court order is for her to meet us halfway. Now, we are driving to NJ for the weekend, so we could just drop the kids off in Philly for her. But fuck that. She's driving and when she pulls out, we'll be pulling out right behind her and driving the same way she is. Can't wait to hear that phone call when she realizes what's going on.....
Tuition for younger son: $350 a month
Aftercare for younger son: $50 a week
Aftercare for older son: $160 a month
We HAVE THIS IN WRITING from her. So Mr. M calls the schools today to check, because as we found out last year she was paying WAY less than she told the judge and which Mr. M was ordered to pay. These are the actual costs:
Tuition for younger son: $285 a month
Aftercare for younger son: $45 a week
Aftercare for older son: $120 a month
Think someone wants us to pay her new car payment? Yea, that's right. Miss I'm so fucking broke because of you (um how is that possible when Mr. M pays HER child support?) just bought a brand new car because her car with 89,000 miles on it wasn't good enough. Fuck you cunt.
So tonight will be fun. Court order is for her to meet us halfway. Now, we are driving to NJ for the weekend, so we could just drop the kids off in Philly for her. But fuck that. She's driving and when she pulls out, we'll be pulling out right behind her and driving the same way she is. Can't wait to hear that phone call when she realizes what's going on.....
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Humanity, does it exist?
I don't use this blog as a political platform, and I don't intend to start now. But I'm sorely dissappointed in the amount of help New Orleans and surrounding communities have received thus far. There is NO reason food and water should not have been air lifted to regions already. Good Lord we dropped thousands of pounds of food right on beaches after the tsunami, and yet the Superdome has gone without food and water for 4 days now!
Of course I'm also dissappointed in the carnal rage and violence that people are showing down there as well. I fail to see the connection between shooting at a helicopter in order to make them rescue you. If you shoot them down, they can't rescue ANYONE. So chill the fuck out, stop shooting, and give them time. I won't pretend to know what it's like to be on a roof for 4 days, or without food and water for 4 days, not having access to news to have a clue what is going on, but I would hope I would have enough sense to not shoot my sister in the head for a bag of fucking ice.....
Of course I'm also dissappointed in the carnal rage and violence that people are showing down there as well. I fail to see the connection between shooting at a helicopter in order to make them rescue you. If you shoot them down, they can't rescue ANYONE. So chill the fuck out, stop shooting, and give them time. I won't pretend to know what it's like to be on a roof for 4 days, or without food and water for 4 days, not having access to news to have a clue what is going on, but I would hope I would have enough sense to not shoot my sister in the head for a bag of fucking ice.....
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