Monday, December 28, 2009

I Ain't Askin' Nobody for Nothin'...

(Photo used with permission from Simon A Eugster at Wikimedia Commons)

So I need a place to vent where no one I know will see me...I have a blog or three, but they're read by people I know and I'm just not in the mood to be lectured or pitied. I simply need to vent.

I can't pay my bills. 

I can't say that elsewhere because some people think that's me asking for help.

I'm not. Me asking for help is "Look, I hate to ask, but I could use a hand, here..."

I'm just frustrated, worried, stressing...I can't pay the power, can't pay the water, can't pay for the phone, the Internet...I have no income and nothing in the offing, and when I DID ask another person for help...all I got was a stern lecture on why I need to change the way I live, tighten my belt, do without, and they can't help me because things are tough all over.

Thanks. Because the money I was trying to borrow was for the medication I need to keep from dying early from kidney failure or a stroke and I'm pretty sure tightening my belt won't help with that and also the last time I went without meds (for almost a year), that same person berated me for weeks about how I should have come to her for help...but you know, whatever.

I'm cold all the time because I don't dare turn up the heat, and my kid doesn't ask me for anything any more because at six he already knows "We can't afford it" as his life's refrain. He's not hungry yet...but it may be coming. I've been advised to apply for food stamps. Great. Because without power and water, a bunch of food sitting around getting nasty is just the thing to cheer a body up.



So now I am done bitching and will enjoy what I have while I have it...and keep trying to meet my obligations without axe-murdering people who think they know how to live my life. It's hard to grip an axe handle when you're shivering...

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Happy Birthday To Me

(Photo stolen from this site)

Warning: this post contains large amounts of "feeling sorry for myself"…but I am okay with that. Because after you read it? You are gonna feel sorry for me too. I am pathetic.

Today is my birthday, and it has shown me I am nothing to celebrate.

The Husband never makes a big deal out of birthdays (or holidays or anniversaries or ANYTHING) so I wasn’t expecting much from him. But I got even less. I got a "Happy Birthday" when I woke up and was stumbling half asleep as I brushed my teeth. And that WAS IT. No card. No flowers. No NOTHING. And you know what? I don’t even have the energy to say anything to him. Because he doesn’t get it. All he would do is run out to Tiffany’s and buy some insane gift and try to make up for being an ass….and it wouldn’t help at all. All I wanted was a card. Just a frickin' $3.00 Hallmark card. Guess he was too busy ALL FRICKIN' YEAR. Guess my kids were too busy too -- they didn’t even say anything to me before school.

I mention this on Twitter this morning. And because I am "the funny one" people think I am kidding. Yeah well I am not laughing. 

And since I have no real friends…(Ironically. Only fans apparently. Which is far from the same thing) no one called to take me to coffee, no one dropped off a card, no one asked if I had plans today and no one planned a party to celebrate me. No one. No one even called. Oh, except my mom. She remembered. Which makes sense since she was there at my birth. She then said -- to fulfill her motherly obligation, "Well, we could go to dinner tonight if you want."  Since I had been crying nearly all day -- I just told her, “Oh I am way too busy. But thanks anyway.” 

I spend all year taking people to lunch for their birthdays, or dropping off thoughtful gifts on porches for their birthdays, or helping husbands plan elaborate dinner parties for their wives' birthdays, or attending impromptu surprise bar gatherings for other peoples' birthdays.

Is it any surprise I am devastated to know that after 39 years on earth no one wants to celebrate me at all?

What the hell is wrong with me?

The only people who care are a friend in Atlanta and one in Northern California (no where near me)….fellow bloggers. So I guess I am better in print. Or as they say "I must make a better friend on paper than in real life."  Oh they don’t say that? Well -- they should.

I have this urge to just tell everyone I know -- all the people who I work SO HARD all year long to keep as "friends" to F-off.

I think I am done. 

No more effort-making, keeping and maintaining friendships.

It is all a big waste of time and energy.

Energy I can put towards my new hobby of competitive wine drinking.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Clue Hammer

by Not the Secretary

My ex-husband's girlfriend calls my house looking for him, because he won't answer his phones (he has two) when she calls. She knows he'll answer if
I call him, so she calls here and asks me to have him call her.

What am I, his social secretary? How the Hell do
I know where he is or what he's doing? And (unless he has our son with him) why would I care? And what on earth possesses you to think it's in any way appropriate for you to call here and ask me to do that for you??

Hello? Clue hammer, honey -- if he isn't answering, it's because he doesn't want to talk to you. Leave a damn message, and if he doesn't call you back...take a hint.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009


(Photo stolen from slayer23)

by Maybe

Well, I just wanted to let you know that I didn't have to spring for the most expensive piece of technology I'll ever pee on...nature has let me know in her own way that I may breathe easy again.

I'm relieved, and maybe a little sad...but mostly relieved.

Thank you everyone for your kind thoughts and friendly humor!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

You're An Arse And My Dog Thinks So, Too

(Original photo stolen from these guys)

by Rick's Cafe

Hey Bartender, gotta question for you:

The nearest thing I have to a son-in-law told me that the business I'm in is evil. I hope that's not what he meant. I would like to think what he meant was that insurance, at times, can be frustrating, complicated and occasionally disappointing in it's inability to communicate in a complete, informative manner.

My thought is; If one is to say Mike Myers playing Dr.Evil is evil, then what are you going to call the character Mike Myers in the movie Halloween? The latter is evil, the former has idiosyncrasies.

So how do I tell this dweeb that he's an arse who needs to expand his vocabulary and quit over-stating his thoughts?

Did I mention, my dog doesn't like this boy either?


Rick's Cafe

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


by Maybe

(Photo stolen from this site)

Well, I hope I am doing this right.

I may be pregnant. I'm too old to be having babies. I had The Sex knowing it was exactly the time in my cycle I should definitely use protection...and we didn't. I knew we should. He knew we should. We just...didn't.

We're neither of us stupid. We were just...stupid. Caught up in the moment would be a nice excuse, but I know damn well we both knew the gun was loaded and we chose to pull the trigger. To take the chance.

I don't know if he wants a baby. I'm afraid to find out. I'm afraid to ask him how he'd feel, afraid he'd feel trapped or resentful if I am, or hurt or upset if I'm not. Not flattering, considering he's a terrific man who loves kids. Sigh. Yes, I can be a touch neurotic.

I don't even know if I AM pregnant. Only maybe, because of the timing. If I am, it'd be by a few days. And maybe I'm worrying over nothing.

I'm torn between delight at the prospect (age or not, I love the man and love the idea of a little combination of us, and I always wanted another child) and horror (I really am too old to be having babies, although my body hasn't figured that out yet, and am in no way financially or emotionally stable or physically fit enough to be bringing another life into this world).

I can't even test yet. It's too soon. I have to wait another week, at least, and even then could get a false negative. Really, I should wait two weeks, or even three to be certain...but I may drop dead from worry, by then. Until then, it seems I'll be spending odd moments every day I? Am I not? How do I feel about it?

Do I tell him, if I am? Do I keep it? I have to keep it. There's no question. Not that I am against abortion. I think that's up to each person to decide. For me, I can't simply get rid of something because it's not convenient. Do I talk to him about my concerns? Do I sound him out? Do I leave him in the dark and hope it's moot? Save him a week or two of worry? Because if I'm not, it would be pointless to bring it up...wouldn't it?

And maybe I'm not. Probably I'm not. I know they told us in sex ed that it only takes once, but really? Has anyone ever gotten knocked up after times? Right in the middle of their fertile period?

Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

I'd try to bargain with God, but God had nothing to do with this -- it's up to me to work it out on my own.

I hate to admit it...even knowing all the reasons (and there are so many, I can't count them all) why I shouldn't have a child...I still smile when I think of the possibility. Proof I'm insane.

In the end, it won't matter...if I'm not, I will glue a dang condom on the man before we romp again, because the stress? I don't need it. If I AM, be it. I'll cross that bridge if I come to it.

Thanks for listening, Bartender. I'd ask for a drink, but maybe I'll just stick to water until I know...

Sunday, March 8, 2009

The Eulogy

by Honey

I met him through my husband. They were childhood friends. Their mothers, who attended church together, were pregnant together. They even went to the same babysitter. He is my husband’s oldest friend.

When he introduced me to his wife, we hit it off immediately. We bonded over identical experiences in dealing with our husbands. In time, we became like sisters. And as our husbands behaved like brothers, this was ok. When he wanted to surprise her, he would ask me to find out her favorite perfume, or help him pick out a purse she would like. He would even beg me to wrap it because I am an awesome gift wrapper, if I do say so myself.

When he & his wife would have relationship issues, she would vent to me. Although sometimes the things that she would tell me would make me want to rip out his heart, I would listen and tell her all the right things, like: “whatever you do, you have my support.” …Or “This is YOUR relationship and nobody can tell you how to feel about xyz situation. Do what’s best for YOU”…It took me some time, but I learned to listen without judging. But this time, I am totally putting my objectivity aside. This time, you’ve gone too far.

This weekend, I watched as he had her served with a restraining order against him and her children. Not because he really believed that she was a danger to her babies who she loves more than herself, but because he was punishing her for refusing to bend to his will. I stood there, helpless as he tried to trump up reasons for having called the police. Spankings, he says. Spankings that the police officer forced him to admit were given because the child had it coming for being disobedient. Spankings that the police officer told him SHE would have given if it had been her child.

I sat there on the couch in horror as he told them to serve her because she refused to talk to him. This would be AFTER he instigated an argument that left her hysterically crying because she couldn’t understand why he would say the things you did. It took 2 people SIX hours to calm her down enough so that she could fall asleep.

I’m leaving some stuff out. But the important part? She didn’t deserve this, that he actually said “No, she is not abusive to her kids”, that he is wrecking his THREE children’s lives because of a temper tantrum… is here for the world to see.

Children are a Mother’s heart. We give them life, we love them before they are born and we would give our lives for them. For him to block her from her children as revenge for a deserved response to his foolishness is unforgivable. SHE has never…even when she would say he was a horrible HUSBAND, never EVER maligned him as a father.

I interpret this action as emotional terrorism. This one act had turned a more or less impartial observer into his sworn enemy. I will do whatever I can to reunite her with her kids, and if it manages to destroy him in the process, it would be no more than he deserves.

Consider ME the judge AND the jury. Consider THIS post as his funeral. He is now dead to me.


Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Dysfunctional Boss

by g

(Photo of
THE IRRESISTIBLE FORCE stolen from Ingrid Kerma & Kate Palmer)

I hardly ever see her. She isn't there when I show up to work; there's no message or anything. She'll call sometime in the morning. Sometimes she calls the front desk, sometimes she calls me, sometimes she calls The Other Guy.

On a Monday I'll say, "Hi, how was your weekend?"

The response is usually, "Oh, I've been sick all weekend." or "I must have come down with something." or "My plumbing broke down and I've been mopping up water all weekend."

When she calls me her voice often sounds thick or raspy or weak. "I just woke up - I couldn't sleep all night and just dropped off at dawn. I just woke up now." or "I don't know what I did to my knee, but I can hardly walk." or "I'm really dizzy, so I'm trying to telecommute from home." or "I threw my back out last night."

Sometimes she says she's staying home to "work on the budget" or "work on that RFP that's due," or "have a couple of phone appointments."

She says she'll be in at eleven. Or twelve. Or one. Inevitably, that time passes and she's not there. Or she'll call a half hour after the designated time and she'll say she's "on her way in."

She always asks, "How's it going? Is there anything going on? Anything pressing you need me for?" Well, there are lots of little things, usually, but never pressing. And she always sounds so ill, or stressed, or rushed, so you think, well, why take her time up on the phone asking whether she read my email asking her opinion on some trivial matter - even though she's a control freak who has to be involved in every decision.

Once, she was supposed to speak at a morning ceremony honoring a retiree. I couldn't attend, as I had another meeting. At the last minute, my meeting fell through, so I decided to go, being a friend of the retiree. I arrived at the ceremony, and my boss wasn't there. Just before the meeting started, someone handed me a note. She had awoken that morning and "lost her voice" - would I give the speech for her? I had ten minutes to make something up. I didn't see her until the next day.

When she finally comes into the office, usually her blood sugar is low, so she has to have lunch/lie down/ice her twisted knee/have a Coke to settle her stomach. She microwaves her Lean Cuisine, then goes into her office and closes the door.

Then she's got a few minutes in case you need her on any pressing matter - although her mailbox is full of the payment approvals, documents to be signed, invoices to review - a bottleneck you just hope she'll get through today or you can't do anything with those pieces of business.

That document you asked her to review? She lost the copy you put in her mailbox, can you print her another one?

So-and-so up in Finance sent her the latest budget document, but she can't open the attachment. Can she forward the email to you and you can open it for her?

She couldn't input the numbers into the box - she doesn't know what's wrong with her computer - she's printed the sheet and wrote in the changes by hand. Can you type them up for her? She tried to print something last night but she couldn't get the printer to work.

The other day she asked for me to submit a list of blahblahblah, but when I go to gather the info I find that it doesn't quite conform to what she thought it did, so I need clarification on what she really wants. But the list is in preparation for a meeting, and she's cancelled the meeting. So do I interrupt her to get clarification, or do I forget about it?

She's scheduled a meeting this afternoon at 3 p.m. with me and The Other Guy to discuss Some Very Important Thing. We actually had other commitments, but we called and shifted them, because her schedule was so tight. So 3 p.m. comes, and she's on the phone. So we wait and it's 3:30, 3:45, and finally we all go into the conference room.

But she's waiting for another phone call, so after we've been talking for five minutes, she hears her line ringing and says, "I've got to take this call." So we sit with our notebooks and poised pens, waiting.

She comes back and Some Very Important Thing has been given a lesser priority. We're told things are changing and we need to prepare for an increased workload. A meeting will take place sometime next week with more information, we're told. "What can we do to prepare for the meeting, is there any info we need to gather?" we ask.

No. So other than imparting an ominous sense of stress, she's done nothing for us this afternoon.

She only has an hour remaining, she has an appointment at 5:00. She leaves the office. Will she be in tomorrow? She'll call in the morning, she says, and let us know when she's coming in.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Starting a Fight to Stop a War

(Graphic stolen from
this site)

by Minerva

I was once a part of an on-line forum. The subject matter isn't important, nor is the back door reason I joined the group. I joined this social media group about five years ago, maybe a little less, back when Facebook was not an issue and the only people on MySpace were teens.

I joined this on-line forum, made up mostly of women, though not entirely.
We had a great time: joking, sharing photos, starting new threads (both germane to our overall topic and not), discussing things, planning crazy stuff we knew we'd never actually do, and getting to know each other personally. And fighting. You would NOT believe the fighting.

Or maybe you would believe it. Have you ever gotten dozens of women together for any great period of time?
It's a frightening thought, I know, in the best of circumstances. Throw in one or two shit disturbers, maybe a troll or three, and the whole forum would go up in smoke in minutes. The site was shut down for days (once weeks) at a time fairly regularly.

But I almost always stayed out of it. I don't like fighting, and I'd either find someone neutral to play with or I'd leave. Unless, of course, I felt like stirring some shit myself, by poking at an intellectually challenged troll with a stick. Go ahead, Troll -- send up another lob for me. SMASH! Some things are just too tempting to resist.

Then one day I jumped into the fray with both feet. As I watched what was happening on the forum, I was so angry I was shaking
. One very dim-witted poster (I'll call her Saint Ann) was passive-aggressively pushing a very painful button for another poster. Push, push, push. We begged her to stop. I e-mailed Saint Ann privately to say that I thought she might be unaware of what she was truly doing, but there was a lot more to the story and would she please stop? All of our efforts were not only dismissed by Saint Ann, but also actually served to strengthen her relentless attack.

Why do I care? I wondered. Why can't I walk away from this like I've ignored most of the others? Because someone is being hurt by this attack, someone I care about, was my answer to myself.

Nothing I knew to do was working. It was time for something drastic. I opened a new thread and typed in the title:

Dear Saint Ann: I Don't Like You

My head hurt, my throat hurt, my stomach hurt. Yes, I know how that thread title sounds, but I had a very specific reason for doing it: I was changing the subject. Now the focus was on ME, and how awful I was, or how brave, or wow, I never knew she was such a turd in the punch bowl or Really? Because I always knew she was a turd in the punch bowl!

I sacrificed my integrity on the board. Did it work? Pretty well. The pinnacle of nastiness was soon reached, and then died out. I was tarnished, but the focus had been removed from my friend. I certainly didn't do it alone, but I felt the need to throw myself under the bus for a friend. Dear Saint Ann: I don't like you. The follow-up words I chose were unheated and straightforward, with no name-calling or swearing, but they had to hurt, and I intended them to hurt. Yes, I was definitely a turd that day. And I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

I later apologized for my tactics, but not for my words. I made sure Saint Ann knew that I meant what I said. I held my tongue and kept my distance after that.

I left the forum a few months later, never to return. I miss a lot of friends there, but I do keep in touch with some of them. One or two read my blog and comment, occasionally.

The friend who was the original target of all of the ugliness quietly passed away last year, of the disease she had so fiercely guarded -- the same disease Saint Ann was trying so childishly to expose to the world. Wounds have healed with time but forgetting doesn't come so easily.

And this is why war will never end.