Frustration is the theme of my day. It's barely 9:30 at night when I'm starting this blog and I'm ready for bed. I had to sit around and panic for three hours while Big Daddy was going through his court ordered psychological evaluation. Then I had to call to schedule mine so now I'm stuck thinking about what will happen when I go in next Friday for my evaluation. On top of all of that, a little birdie starting singing a sour tune tonight.
Big Daddy and I were in the living room after we got back from eating dinner while the kids were washing and drying dishes in the kitchen. Big Daddy though he heard Tink talking about signing up for an activity next year but he missed what she was talking about.
This whole thing reminded me that I wanted to ask Evel if he planned on signing up for football this year. When I went into the kitchen to feed Nutt, I asked him. He bumbled through his answer (which means he doesn't want to but he knows that I'm going to make him do it since I think it's important for kids to be involved in something other than video games) and then Tink drops a bomb shell.
We were informed that she will be signing up for soccer next year when she switches schools.
Come again?
Yep, she is switching schools next year and she will be playing soccer at her new school. So Big Daddy asked who told her she is switching schools. Her answer? Mommy.
So BFBF has YET AGAIN gotten Tink excited about switching schools (without our permission). She fails to remember that there is currently a court order in effect stating that BFBF can move wherever she wants but Tink still attends her current school district as long as Big Daddy remains in that district.
Yes, she took us to court to try to have that decision overturned, but we countered for full custody (and I think we have some pretty valid reasons for it). No one knows if Tink will stay or go yet. It's pending ALL OF OUR psychological evaluations and the results and what the psychologist has to say. And then the judge (who made the first decision to keep Tink in this district) has the final say.
So if the judge decides to uphold his original decision or (please, God, please!) decides to give us 50/50 physical custody of Tink, we again look like the bad guys. I guarantee BFBF isn't going to tell Tink that a judge is the person that ruled she couldn't switch schools. She's going to tell Tink that Daddy and I were the one's that got the judge to say she couldn't switch schools. And at 6 years old, she's too young to understand WHY we're trying to stop her from switching schools. Another fine mess that BFBF has made for us to clean up.
I told Big Daddy to call the psychologist back tomorrow and tell her that on the eve of his interview, he was given some more information from Tink. And we don't know if Tink has been interviewed yet or if they're going to wait until after all of the adults have been interviewed or if they're even going to interview her at all. I really hope so because everything that has come out of her mouth lately has been something that "Mommy told her."
So I will be going in to my interview with this new tidbit. Yeah, I'm going to tattle. I am sick of the BS that we can blatantly see going on but we're powerless to stop. I have spent so much time lately praying that SOMEONE in the legal system will see through this crap. I may not be Mother of the Year, but my kids know that they are loved and I DO NOT play mind games with them. The fact that someone is willing to manipulate their children to get what they want is absolutely disgusting to me.
And the saddest thing about this is that I'm sure she is doing this so she doesn't lose her child support. If we have 50/50 custody, BFBF loses some serious money. She just moved and if she loses a good chunk of her support, she is screwed. She'll have to move home with her BFBF Mommy. I have met her mother and wouldn't wish that on anyone but eventually karma will come full circle.
If you lie and manipulate people to get what you want, it will be found out and there will be consequences. She has hurt Big Daddy and she has manipulated her daughter for AT LEAST the 2 1/2 years that I've known them. That's a lot of karma. I admit I've fantasized a time or two about her being hit by a bus, but I've never told Tink anything bad about her mom (unless you count the time that Tink said that Mommy told her that Mommy's house is her home and that she just visits us. Yeah, I told her that Mommy is wrong). I just bite my tongue, grin and bear it.
Well, it's time to open the floodgates. We have 2 years of texts messages and emails to illustrate what a contradicary, unreasonable (until the psychological profile was mentioned and then she became VERY reasonable), manipulative, simple-minded woman that BFBF actually is. I am just hoping that the powers above let the right people see that, too.
Please keep us in your prayers.
Showing posts with label Fear My Wrath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fear My Wrath. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Dear PCDR, You Suck. Love, Me
Dear Perry County Domestic Relations Department,
I am writing this letter just to let you know that you have failed me. You have not only failed me, you have also failed my oldest son. But after years of this behavior, I have sadly come to expect it. Please allow me to clarify and outline how I feel you have failed us.
I came to you when I was 19 years old, seeking child support for my nine month-old son while I went to college to try to better myself. At the hearing, I explained that I was in college (from which I had to miss a day to come to this hearing) and I explained that in order for me to continue going to college, I needed my son's father to help with child care. The man that was overseeing the hearing looked at me like I was a piece of garbage and told me that my son's father was not responsible for child care and if I wanted to go to college, I would have to pay IN FULL for his child care. He referred me to the Child Care Network, which would not help me because I lived at home with my parents and their income was counted along with mine. I later found out that if you are attending school, both parents should be responsible for child care costs.
After "the man" (mentioned above) figured the support calculations, he told me that I was entitled to $90 a week and then said, "But what are you going to need $90 a week for? Babies don't cost that much to raise. You should strongly think about negotiating on this." Stupidly, I listened and took half. Maybe babies don't cost $90 a week to raise, but children do. $2340 a year is not enough to raise a child.
After the documents were signed, sealed and delivered, we began the repetitive cycle of non-payment. My son's father has been sent to jail TWICE because of non-payment. From looking at my EPPICard history (just the history that I can see), he failed to pay from October 20, 2008 until February 23, 2009, from May 4, 2009 until June 4, 2010 (over a year, but we did receive an $800 tax return intercept in March), from November 22, 2010 until January 11, 2011 (and from August until November 22, the payments were all under $30 per payment) and finally from March 22, 2011 (a $10 payment) until the present.
I understand that sometimes people get into a bind and they have trouble paying their support. But this appears to be a pattern. And the worst slap in the face was that he was allowed to file a motion to terminate support THREE TIMES, all while non-compliant in payment. I heard things like, "Let's give him a chance." "Let him get back on his feet." and the ever popular, "He's trying." He's trying to what? If you do not pay your child support in over a year, you are not trying to do anything.
And it is still beyond me why he has been given so many chances with the history of non-payment. I do not call in and complain because every time that I have in the past, I have been meant to feel like all I want is money (that is, if I even get a callback from my caseworker). But sadly, the only way that I get any information on my case is to call. When my son's father didn't pay his support for over a year, I had to call weekly for 2 months to even get anything started. I had my caseworker basically tell me that when they felt that he had been non-compliant for long enough, they would start court proceedings. Apparently long enough for PCDR is over a year, with a petition to terminate filed by my son's father thrown in for good measure. But yet, I am made to feel that all I want is money.
When I can't send my son to daycare because I don't know if he will receive child support so I can pay for it, yeah, I am wondering where the money is. When I have my entire budget for the month set up around child support, yeah, I would like to know it is there when I need it. It is there for my son when we need it. There are years that I don't have his school pictures because I was counting on child support to pay for them and it was never received.
So PCDR, if I am spending these funds inappropriately by using them for daycare, school pictures and clothing for my son, please inform me and I will change my spending habits. That is the only excuse I could think of for you allowing him to remain non-compliant for these amounts of time without consequence and allowing him to take me back to court and have my child support lowered from $45 a week to $41 a week. This after he requested a tele-conference and did not answer the phone when you tried to reach him. I may be mistaken, but I thought that was the same as missing court. But it's okay because you were going to "try to get in touch with him later or tomorrow."
And then I was (yet again) made to feel like a money hungry whore when I reported that I was not working because I was staying at home with my infant son. Yes, voluntarily. I was made to feel like less of a person because I took a year off work for the first time since I was 15 years old to spend time with my child. A child that, because of a medical diagnosis, would cost an entire paycheck to pay for child care. And then we have my oldest son, who does not receive child support, that would also need child care. I would be earning less than I do as a homemaker if I were working.
With the exception of one time in 2009 (which was denied because my son's father needed a chance to get back on his feet and get caught up with payments), I have never asked for more money from my son's father. I have always had a job to support my son and when I quit working, I didn't expect his father to cover the loss of income. But I did expect him to follow a court order and support his son financially since he chooses not to be in my son's life to support him physically and emotionally. I guess it is just easier to shirk all responsibility and lay it on the shoulders of another man when no one holds you accountable for your actions.
So Perry County Domestic Relations, these are some of the ways that you have failed my son and me. I wish I still had the fire to get upset about it but like I mentioned above, I have come to expect it. He will pay until the notices to appear in court stop coming and then it's financial freedom again until the whole process repeats itself. Maybe we should just abolish Peco Domestic Relations and save the county and state some money since (and I'm sure I'm not the only one with the opinion) it doesn't seem like you do very much in the first place.
Sincerely,
Miss Aquarius
I am writing this letter just to let you know that you have failed me. You have not only failed me, you have also failed my oldest son. But after years of this behavior, I have sadly come to expect it. Please allow me to clarify and outline how I feel you have failed us.
I came to you when I was 19 years old, seeking child support for my nine month-old son while I went to college to try to better myself. At the hearing, I explained that I was in college (from which I had to miss a day to come to this hearing) and I explained that in order for me to continue going to college, I needed my son's father to help with child care. The man that was overseeing the hearing looked at me like I was a piece of garbage and told me that my son's father was not responsible for child care and if I wanted to go to college, I would have to pay IN FULL for his child care. He referred me to the Child Care Network, which would not help me because I lived at home with my parents and their income was counted along with mine. I later found out that if you are attending school, both parents should be responsible for child care costs.
After "the man" (mentioned above) figured the support calculations, he told me that I was entitled to $90 a week and then said, "But what are you going to need $90 a week for? Babies don't cost that much to raise. You should strongly think about negotiating on this." Stupidly, I listened and took half. Maybe babies don't cost $90 a week to raise, but children do. $2340 a year is not enough to raise a child.
After the documents were signed, sealed and delivered, we began the repetitive cycle of non-payment. My son's father has been sent to jail TWICE because of non-payment. From looking at my EPPICard history (just the history that I can see), he failed to pay from October 20, 2008 until February 23, 2009, from May 4, 2009 until June 4, 2010 (over a year, but we did receive an $800 tax return intercept in March), from November 22, 2010 until January 11, 2011 (and from August until November 22, the payments were all under $30 per payment) and finally from March 22, 2011 (a $10 payment) until the present.
I understand that sometimes people get into a bind and they have trouble paying their support. But this appears to be a pattern. And the worst slap in the face was that he was allowed to file a motion to terminate support THREE TIMES, all while non-compliant in payment. I heard things like, "Let's give him a chance." "Let him get back on his feet." and the ever popular, "He's trying." He's trying to what? If you do not pay your child support in over a year, you are not trying to do anything.
And it is still beyond me why he has been given so many chances with the history of non-payment. I do not call in and complain because every time that I have in the past, I have been meant to feel like all I want is money (that is, if I even get a callback from my caseworker). But sadly, the only way that I get any information on my case is to call. When my son's father didn't pay his support for over a year, I had to call weekly for 2 months to even get anything started. I had my caseworker basically tell me that when they felt that he had been non-compliant for long enough, they would start court proceedings. Apparently long enough for PCDR is over a year, with a petition to terminate filed by my son's father thrown in for good measure. But yet, I am made to feel that all I want is money.
When I can't send my son to daycare because I don't know if he will receive child support so I can pay for it, yeah, I am wondering where the money is. When I have my entire budget for the month set up around child support, yeah, I would like to know it is there when I need it. It is there for my son when we need it. There are years that I don't have his school pictures because I was counting on child support to pay for them and it was never received.
So PCDR, if I am spending these funds inappropriately by using them for daycare, school pictures and clothing for my son, please inform me and I will change my spending habits. That is the only excuse I could think of for you allowing him to remain non-compliant for these amounts of time without consequence and allowing him to take me back to court and have my child support lowered from $45 a week to $41 a week. This after he requested a tele-conference and did not answer the phone when you tried to reach him. I may be mistaken, but I thought that was the same as missing court. But it's okay because you were going to "try to get in touch with him later or tomorrow."
And then I was (yet again) made to feel like a money hungry whore when I reported that I was not working because I was staying at home with my infant son. Yes, voluntarily. I was made to feel like less of a person because I took a year off work for the first time since I was 15 years old to spend time with my child. A child that, because of a medical diagnosis, would cost an entire paycheck to pay for child care. And then we have my oldest son, who does not receive child support, that would also need child care. I would be earning less than I do as a homemaker if I were working.
With the exception of one time in 2009 (which was denied because my son's father needed a chance to get back on his feet and get caught up with payments), I have never asked for more money from my son's father. I have always had a job to support my son and when I quit working, I didn't expect his father to cover the loss of income. But I did expect him to follow a court order and support his son financially since he chooses not to be in my son's life to support him physically and emotionally. I guess it is just easier to shirk all responsibility and lay it on the shoulders of another man when no one holds you accountable for your actions.
So Perry County Domestic Relations, these are some of the ways that you have failed my son and me. I wish I still had the fire to get upset about it but like I mentioned above, I have come to expect it. He will pay until the notices to appear in court stop coming and then it's financial freedom again until the whole process repeats itself. Maybe we should just abolish Peco Domestic Relations and save the county and state some money since (and I'm sure I'm not the only one with the opinion) it doesn't seem like you do very much in the first place.
Sincerely,
Miss Aquarius
Friday, April 8, 2011
Mama Always Said It's Nice To Not Be a Jerk
Well, it's official. Big Daddy and I had our lawyer officially reply to BFBF's court challenge that claimed Tink should switch schools. We are countering her position and asking for primary custody.
I'm sure that we'll wind up with at least 50/50 physical custody, but I've been worried sick about how desperate Mommy Dearest is to keep Tink full time. I wonder about what she might be saying to her to manipulate her opinions of our house and our family. Big Daddy doesn't think she would do it, but I know women personally that have gotten desperate and I've heard the things that they've said to their kids about their father. It's disgusting and I no longer associate with those people. Tink is at the age where she wouldn't even know any better if her mom was saying things like that.
Like the time that she told us that Mommy told her that Mommy's house was her home and she just comes here to visit, but it's not really her home. What? According to the Snyder County Courts and the Selinsgrove School District, this is very much Tink's home. And hopefully after the court date, the will be her home at least half of the time. I guess desperate people do desperate things, no matter who they are hurting.
God, I wish the title of this blog rang true in BFBF's case but I think that's where a lot of this BS is coming from. The BFBF-er (Bigger Fatter Bitchier Face) that spawned the little one. I'm sure Mama is the one instructing her protege on how to be a jerk. And yeah, I know I'm being a hypocrite right now (by not saying anything nice. At least I'm not punching anyone), but all of this monkey business has crossed so many lines that it's beginning to look like some kind of warped game of tic-tac-toe.
But lately, Tink has been coming to our house on Wednesday evenings in a horrible mood and then she winds up falling asleep and we don't get to spend much time with her (well, other than the time that we're spending trying to figure out why she's crying). So I asked her about this and she told me that Tuesday night is game night at her mom's and BFBF lets her stay up late to finish the game that they are playing. I asked if she usually stays up late when she's there and she said no, just sometimes on game nights. And why would it matter how late she stays up? BFBF doesn't have to deal with any of it. Tink is going to Dad's so let's have fun before she leaves! Inconsiderate hag.
I just don't get why she hates Big Daddy so much that she would do things like this. She's the one that was "rumored" to have committed adultery. And yet she's the one that was such a "good wife" and "fought for her family" and Big Daddy was the one that "kicked her when she was down." Kinda hard for Big Daddy to do that while you're sleeping with the neighbor's brother and breaking up his marriage. And he also let her sit at home on her ever-expanding ass for 3 years to raise their daughter (and yes, I'm at home, but my ass has managed to stay roughly the same size). So was that what has so horrible? Or was is the fact that he made her get a job when he couldn't afford to pay to the massive amount of food she consumed in a day (he didn't say that, I did)?
This all came from an email that I received when I left her a note (with my phone number and email on it) asking if I could have copies of Tink's baby pictures so I could make Big Daddy a music video of Tink growing up for Father's Day. She told me it "wasn't her job to make him happy anymore." Yeah, obviously because it's now MY JOB. That's why I left the note in the first damned place...so I could make him a gift from the pictures that she told him that he would have to pay for if he ever wanted to see again.
And then she claims that she "forgot" Father's Day. Apparently, life sucking monsters do not have fathers because that would be the only acceptable excuse for her to not remember Father's Day. Apparently her dad isn't important enough to rate remembering a day that is dedicated to him. This after Tink said that they went to see Pappy for Father's Day. If Tink wasn't so beautiful, I guess BFBF forgetting that Tink has a father would confirm the fact that BFBF is in fact a cold-blooded reptile and may have spawned on her own. But Tink has her daddy's good looks. Guess that should signal to BFBF that there is a Daddy that helped in Tink's creation and should be remembered at least ONCE a year.
But the kicker from that email was that she said that he didn't want his family. For the entire time I have been with Big Daddy, he has always been upset about the shaft that he got when he went for joint physical and legal custody and he has ALWAYS talked about wanting more time with Tink. I don't buy this pathetic sob story for a GD second. Maybe it would be different if he didn't seem to care, but from everything that I've ever seen, he does and will always CARE ABOUT HIS DAUGHTER. And the fact that she is trying to keep them from forming a normal relationship is abhorant. I can say this because my son's father hasn't seen him since he was two. I know the difference between a dad that cares and a dad that doesn't. She can take her sob story and shove it.
And he wonders why I think she might say things to Tink that make her not want to be here?
So anyway, the gloves are off (God, I wish that wasn't just a metaphorical statement) and I know that she knows what is going on by now. I just wish I could have been a fly on the wall when she opened that letter.
And I absolutely love our lawyer. He's the meanest old buzzard that I've ever met. I feel confident that with him, we absolutely have a fighting chance at more time with Tink. I just worry that we're going to have to get into psychological profiles and all of that crap to do something that should have been done in the first place (50/50). And I don't know who would be responsible for paying if that happens. It doesn't really matter because we would be willing to drain our bank account to keep our time with Tink, but I feel that if the judge rules in our favor and BFBF disagrees, she should be responsible for paying for these psychological profiles (and the fee may be doubled for whatever Evel has lurking in his psyche).
Ah, frustration. But anyway, that is where we are at right now. I will keep everyone updated.
And I figured, for your reading pleasure, I would include the email response that I received from BFBF when I asked her for copies of Tink's pictures. Not only is she the most passive/aggressive woman that I've ever met, she's a horrible speller and doesn't use proper punctuation. Ick. So here it is (names in pink have been changed to protect the innoncent. And the guilty):
I'm sure that we'll wind up with at least 50/50 physical custody, but I've been worried sick about how desperate Mommy Dearest is to keep Tink full time. I wonder about what she might be saying to her to manipulate her opinions of our house and our family. Big Daddy doesn't think she would do it, but I know women personally that have gotten desperate and I've heard the things that they've said to their kids about their father. It's disgusting and I no longer associate with those people. Tink is at the age where she wouldn't even know any better if her mom was saying things like that.
Like the time that she told us that Mommy told her that Mommy's house was her home and she just comes here to visit, but it's not really her home. What? According to the Snyder County Courts and the Selinsgrove School District, this is very much Tink's home. And hopefully after the court date, the will be her home at least half of the time. I guess desperate people do desperate things, no matter who they are hurting.
God, I wish the title of this blog rang true in BFBF's case but I think that's where a lot of this BS is coming from. The BFBF-er (Bigger Fatter Bitchier Face) that spawned the little one. I'm sure Mama is the one instructing her protege on how to be a jerk. And yeah, I know I'm being a hypocrite right now (by not saying anything nice. At least I'm not punching anyone), but all of this monkey business has crossed so many lines that it's beginning to look like some kind of warped game of tic-tac-toe.
But lately, Tink has been coming to our house on Wednesday evenings in a horrible mood and then she winds up falling asleep and we don't get to spend much time with her (well, other than the time that we're spending trying to figure out why she's crying). So I asked her about this and she told me that Tuesday night is game night at her mom's and BFBF lets her stay up late to finish the game that they are playing. I asked if she usually stays up late when she's there and she said no, just sometimes on game nights. And why would it matter how late she stays up? BFBF doesn't have to deal with any of it. Tink is going to Dad's so let's have fun before she leaves! Inconsiderate hag.
I just don't get why she hates Big Daddy so much that she would do things like this. She's the one that was "rumored" to have committed adultery. And yet she's the one that was such a "good wife" and "fought for her family" and Big Daddy was the one that "kicked her when she was down." Kinda hard for Big Daddy to do that while you're sleeping with the neighbor's brother and breaking up his marriage. And he also let her sit at home on her ever-expanding ass for 3 years to raise their daughter (and yes, I'm at home, but my ass has managed to stay roughly the same size). So was that what has so horrible? Or was is the fact that he made her get a job when he couldn't afford to pay to the massive amount of food she consumed in a day (he didn't say that, I did)?
This all came from an email that I received when I left her a note (with my phone number and email on it) asking if I could have copies of Tink's baby pictures so I could make Big Daddy a music video of Tink growing up for Father's Day. She told me it "wasn't her job to make him happy anymore." Yeah, obviously because it's now MY JOB. That's why I left the note in the first damned place...so I could make him a gift from the pictures that she told him that he would have to pay for if he ever wanted to see again.
And then she claims that she "forgot" Father's Day. Apparently, life sucking monsters do not have fathers because that would be the only acceptable excuse for her to not remember Father's Day. Apparently her dad isn't important enough to rate remembering a day that is dedicated to him. This after Tink said that they went to see Pappy for Father's Day. If Tink wasn't so beautiful, I guess BFBF forgetting that Tink has a father would confirm the fact that BFBF is in fact a cold-blooded reptile and may have spawned on her own. But Tink has her daddy's good looks. Guess that should signal to BFBF that there is a Daddy that helped in Tink's creation and should be remembered at least ONCE a year.
But the kicker from that email was that she said that he didn't want his family. For the entire time I have been with Big Daddy, he has always been upset about the shaft that he got when he went for joint physical and legal custody and he has ALWAYS talked about wanting more time with Tink. I don't buy this pathetic sob story for a GD second. Maybe it would be different if he didn't seem to care, but from everything that I've ever seen, he does and will always CARE ABOUT HIS DAUGHTER. And the fact that she is trying to keep them from forming a normal relationship is abhorant. I can say this because my son's father hasn't seen him since he was two. I know the difference between a dad that cares and a dad that doesn't. She can take her sob story and shove it.
And he wonders why I think she might say things to Tink that make her not want to be here?
So anyway, the gloves are off (God, I wish that wasn't just a metaphorical statement) and I know that she knows what is going on by now. I just wish I could have been a fly on the wall when she opened that letter.
And I absolutely love our lawyer. He's the meanest old buzzard that I've ever met. I feel confident that with him, we absolutely have a fighting chance at more time with Tink. I just worry that we're going to have to get into psychological profiles and all of that crap to do something that should have been done in the first place (50/50). And I don't know who would be responsible for paying if that happens. It doesn't really matter because we would be willing to drain our bank account to keep our time with Tink, but I feel that if the judge rules in our favor and BFBF disagrees, she should be responsible for paying for these psychological profiles (and the fee may be doubled for whatever Evel has lurking in his psyche).
Ah, frustration. But anyway, that is where we are at right now. I will keep everyone updated.
And I figured, for your reading pleasure, I would include the email response that I received from BFBF when I asked her for copies of Tink's pictures. Not only is she the most passive/aggressive woman that I've ever met, she's a horrible speller and doesn't use proper punctuation. Ick. So here it is (names in pink have been changed to protect the innoncent. And the guilty):
 | |
| I love using winky smileys when I'm being a passive/aggressive bitch, too! And we've also offered to pay our IT guy to get the pictures off of that computer that has a virus and we've gotten no response. Looks like someone might be fibbing! |
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Shhhh, This is PRIVATE!
I'm officially in hiding. The blogs are shut down or moved to private since, as most of you know, BFBF has started her nonsense again with trying to get Tink's school changed to the area where she moved. This after a judge told her HELL NO back in October. Well, he told her that she could go ahead and move, but Tink's address would remain with us and Tink would remain in her current school district. Now all of the sudden, Mommy Dearest sends us a letter saying that she believes that Tink should be attending the other school because that is where her primary residence is.
Come again? The county judge told you that is was fine for you to move, but Tink stays. So we're going to go back into his courtroom (watch for the follow up on that) and you're going to try to convince him that he was wrong the first time and that it's okay for Tink to be moved away from her friends? Have fun with that.
Plus, I'm sure if the fact Tink isn't living in this district 50/50 was an issue, the school would have told us to shove it when we approached them with the documentation (you know, the documentation that a JUDGE from a real COURT authorized and then YOU agreed to) to keep her here. And according to the school (and the judge), her legal address is here. That holds more weight than anything BFBF may have.
And our lawyer believes that she was out "judge shopping" because the judge that signed the court papers this time is a different judge than the one that told her to take her move and shove it. But the lawyer said that if we go to court and it's not the old judge, we can request to have the case seen by him since he is already familiar with it. Our lawyer said that he sees people try to pull this all the time if they don't like the outcome of a decision. Sneaky, sneaky. Tisk, tisk, tisk...
So we are in talks with our lawyer on how to proceed. We're pretty sure that we know what we're going to do but I'm not going to get into that until the counter-suit paperwork is drawn up and in the mail. I know it's going to get ugly this time. Really freaking ugly.
All of this because we requested that BFBF just TALK to us about bringing Tink here in the morning and letting her come here after school because it would get rid of the daycare expense that both parties are unnecessesarily paying for. Plus, that would give her more time to spend with Nutt. We also wanted to hash out the holiday/summer vacation schedule so she can't continue screwing us. For all of this, we asked her for a reply to our question before April 1.
And this is what we got. No kind of civil response. And God forbid Tink form any kind of meaningful relationships with this side of her family! The last straw has been drawn and we are ready to do whatever is in our power (and our pocketbooks) to make sure that these relationships are formed. And the lack of response from her shows that she is unwilling to communicate on any issues involving Tink. As Mark Twain once said, "The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with yourself." Your children shouldn't be used to make up for what you are lacking in self-esteem.
I think she knows that she shot herself in the foot (bang) by moving to a different school district and leaving Tink here, which blows opens a can of whoop ass for us to be able to go for 50/50 physical custody. Plus, we are getting married (stability) and Tink has a little brother here that she needs to spend time with. It's common sense to me (but maybe I'm a LITTLE bit biased) and I hope that the judge sees it the same way.
I guess we'll find out in mid-April. Until then, please keep our family in your prayers. This is gonna get ugly.
Come again? The county judge told you that is was fine for you to move, but Tink stays. So we're going to go back into his courtroom (watch for the follow up on that) and you're going to try to convince him that he was wrong the first time and that it's okay for Tink to be moved away from her friends? Have fun with that.
Plus, I'm sure if the fact Tink isn't living in this district 50/50 was an issue, the school would have told us to shove it when we approached them with the documentation (you know, the documentation that a JUDGE from a real COURT authorized and then YOU agreed to) to keep her here. And according to the school (and the judge), her legal address is here. That holds more weight than anything BFBF may have.
And our lawyer believes that she was out "judge shopping" because the judge that signed the court papers this time is a different judge than the one that told her to take her move and shove it. But the lawyer said that if we go to court and it's not the old judge, we can request to have the case seen by him since he is already familiar with it. Our lawyer said that he sees people try to pull this all the time if they don't like the outcome of a decision. Sneaky, sneaky. Tisk, tisk, tisk...
So we are in talks with our lawyer on how to proceed. We're pretty sure that we know what we're going to do but I'm not going to get into that until the counter-suit paperwork is drawn up and in the mail. I know it's going to get ugly this time. Really freaking ugly.
All of this because we requested that BFBF just TALK to us about bringing Tink here in the morning and letting her come here after school because it would get rid of the daycare expense that both parties are unnecessesarily paying for. Plus, that would give her more time to spend with Nutt. We also wanted to hash out the holiday/summer vacation schedule so she can't continue screwing us. For all of this, we asked her for a reply to our question before April 1.
And this is what we got. No kind of civil response. And God forbid Tink form any kind of meaningful relationships with this side of her family! The last straw has been drawn and we are ready to do whatever is in our power (and our pocketbooks) to make sure that these relationships are formed. And the lack of response from her shows that she is unwilling to communicate on any issues involving Tink. As Mark Twain once said, "The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with yourself." Your children shouldn't be used to make up for what you are lacking in self-esteem.
I think she knows that she shot herself in the foot (bang) by moving to a different school district and leaving Tink here, which blows opens a can of whoop ass for us to be able to go for 50/50 physical custody. Plus, we are getting married (stability) and Tink has a little brother here that she needs to spend time with. It's common sense to me (but maybe I'm a LITTLE bit biased) and I hope that the judge sees it the same way.
I guess we'll find out in mid-April. Until then, please keep our family in your prayers. This is gonna get ugly.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
School Daze
In an attempt (a very vain attempt) to eliminate some clutter from my life, I started cleaning out my closet today. I made it though one box. This particular box just so happened to be a box that contained my entire high school life - notes that my BFF's had passed each other, old yearbooks and believe it or not, old report cards (that will be burned before Evel has the opportunity to see them and hold them over my head).
I looked through the stuff and thought back to how much I absolutely hated high school. There were very few things about it that I liked. I was just biding my time until I could graduate and become a grown up. If I knew then what I know now...
Surprisingly enough, when I think back to school, one of the only things that I liked were the teachers. And the teachers that really stick out in my memory were not the teachers that may have won the popularity vote. The teachers that I remember and that I am thankful that I had were the teachers that didn't just let kids slide by for the sake of passing them. They demanded more and they made me flex my brain for a change.
Mr. Kestner, for example. I remember him hovering over me in middle school keyboarding class, reminding me to keep my fingers on the home keys because it was far easier to type that way than to "hunt and peck." And I had his 9th grade Business Principles class with my little sister (three years my junior) because I wouldn't do my homework and instead of just passing me after the first two times I failed, he made me retake it until I finally did enough work to earn my grade.
And Mrs. Hagenbuch. I know there were a lot of kids that DID NOT like her. I know I got booted out of her classroom my fair share of times. But I also know that I can tell you the difference between Quartz and Calcite. And I can properly instruct my son on how to build a working model of our solar system out of paper mache, coat hangers and an old record player (okay, so it doesn't revolve QUITE like the real planets, but I got an A- on it).
Why do I look back and remember these teachers? Because they demanded that I give a damn about something other than myself. They held me accountable for not doing my best. I'm not saying the rest of my teachers were "bad" teachers, but these two are the teachers that I remember making me work for what I wanted and what I wanted was to get the hell out of school. When a lot of other teachers just seemed like they had given up and they didn't care about the students anymore (which is one of the reasons my children will never attend that school, along with the HORRIBLE administration turning a blind eye to the bullying that happens rampantly), these two teachers still had enough fight left in them to get mad. And that, they often did.
Why? Because their students didn't respect them (and I'm guilty of it, too). These kids talked back, threatened them and pushed them to their breaking points. You think you have a thankless job? Try being a teacher at my alma mater. What wasn't understood way back in 9th grade is that the only way you will get respect is if you give it. Yes, all of your teachers are making assumptions about you because you have never shown them otherwise. Only you can change someone's opinion about you.
I believe that is why our public school systems are failing our children. After you get treated badly for so long, you wind up broken. You lose your will to fight. And when teachers give up, the students eat them alive. And if they resist and try to demand respect and demand that kids do their best, the kids label them as a "mean" teacher and resolve to make their life a living hell. It's a vicious cycle. Maybe it's time to bring back the original "Board of Education" (a paddle for those that didn't get the pun) to get some kids in line.
And maybe it's time to cut the salaries of investment bankers that are ripping off their investors for millions and give some of that money to our teachers (rather than trying to bully through laws to take away their collective bargaining powers that will eventually screw them out of benefits and pay raises). Maybe then there would be some incentive for them to remain motivated on educating the future of our country.
Or maybe it's simpler than that. Maybe parents should teach their children respect. The reason that schools are no longer allowed to paddle your children is because the parents are the ones that complained and wanted to be the only people that disciplined their kids. Maybe your discipline isn't working. For your child to go to school and cuss out a teacher is unacceptable I myself am guilty of that also (not proud, but guilty) and if any of my children ever do it, they will not know what the word "ungrounded" means until they reach legal adulthood.
Maybe, just maybe, we need to look at the big picture before we point fingers at the teachers and blame them for failing our children. Just remember, every time you point a finger, you have 3 pointing right back at you.
I looked through the stuff and thought back to how much I absolutely hated high school. There were very few things about it that I liked. I was just biding my time until I could graduate and become a grown up. If I knew then what I know now...
Surprisingly enough, when I think back to school, one of the only things that I liked were the teachers. And the teachers that really stick out in my memory were not the teachers that may have won the popularity vote. The teachers that I remember and that I am thankful that I had were the teachers that didn't just let kids slide by for the sake of passing them. They demanded more and they made me flex my brain for a change.
Mr. Kestner, for example. I remember him hovering over me in middle school keyboarding class, reminding me to keep my fingers on the home keys because it was far easier to type that way than to "hunt and peck." And I had his 9th grade Business Principles class with my little sister (three years my junior) because I wouldn't do my homework and instead of just passing me after the first two times I failed, he made me retake it until I finally did enough work to earn my grade.
And Mrs. Hagenbuch. I know there were a lot of kids that DID NOT like her. I know I got booted out of her classroom my fair share of times. But I also know that I can tell you the difference between Quartz and Calcite. And I can properly instruct my son on how to build a working model of our solar system out of paper mache, coat hangers and an old record player (okay, so it doesn't revolve QUITE like the real planets, but I got an A- on it).
Why do I look back and remember these teachers? Because they demanded that I give a damn about something other than myself. They held me accountable for not doing my best. I'm not saying the rest of my teachers were "bad" teachers, but these two are the teachers that I remember making me work for what I wanted and what I wanted was to get the hell out of school. When a lot of other teachers just seemed like they had given up and they didn't care about the students anymore (which is one of the reasons my children will never attend that school, along with the HORRIBLE administration turning a blind eye to the bullying that happens rampantly), these two teachers still had enough fight left in them to get mad. And that, they often did.
Why? Because their students didn't respect them (and I'm guilty of it, too). These kids talked back, threatened them and pushed them to their breaking points. You think you have a thankless job? Try being a teacher at my alma mater. What wasn't understood way back in 9th grade is that the only way you will get respect is if you give it. Yes, all of your teachers are making assumptions about you because you have never shown them otherwise. Only you can change someone's opinion about you.
I believe that is why our public school systems are failing our children. After you get treated badly for so long, you wind up broken. You lose your will to fight. And when teachers give up, the students eat them alive. And if they resist and try to demand respect and demand that kids do their best, the kids label them as a "mean" teacher and resolve to make their life a living hell. It's a vicious cycle. Maybe it's time to bring back the original "Board of Education" (a paddle for those that didn't get the pun) to get some kids in line.
And maybe it's time to cut the salaries of investment bankers that are ripping off their investors for millions and give some of that money to our teachers (rather than trying to bully through laws to take away their collective bargaining powers that will eventually screw them out of benefits and pay raises). Maybe then there would be some incentive for them to remain motivated on educating the future of our country.
Or maybe it's simpler than that. Maybe parents should teach their children respect. The reason that schools are no longer allowed to paddle your children is because the parents are the ones that complained and wanted to be the only people that disciplined their kids. Maybe your discipline isn't working. For your child to go to school and cuss out a teacher is unacceptable I myself am guilty of that also (not proud, but guilty) and if any of my children ever do it, they will not know what the word "ungrounded" means until they reach legal adulthood.
Maybe, just maybe, we need to look at the big picture before we point fingers at the teachers and blame them for failing our children. Just remember, every time you point a finger, you have 3 pointing right back at you.
Friday, February 18, 2011
For the Love of Dog!
My family and I are renters. I never really minded renting before because if something breaks, I don't have to freaking fix it. I make a phone call and it's taken care of for me. It's a perfect situation for someone as lazy as I can be sometimes. I was content renting for the rest of my life until I found this:
This is Sahara. She's a Yellow Lab Retriever Mix that is available for adoption at the Lycoming County SPCA in Williamsport, PA. (<----the link to her profile. Someone please go adopt her NOW). I saw this picture and my entire bubble of irresponsible living happiness came crashing down around me.
I found this picture on Sahara's profile on Petfinder.com a few weeks ago and I've been going back to check on it every few days. I've also been riding Big Daddy like a racehorse to call our landlord andthreaten beg ask him if we can get a dog. Pretty, pretty freakin please!
This is the first time that I have lived anywhere longer than a few months without a dog and at first I washugely somewhat relieved after living with the Terrible Twosome at the Mama's house. I didn't get out of bed and step in poop or have to worry about my underwear being eaten and it was a relief. But the longer I've gone without a furry companion, the more I miss it (not the poop and underwear eating, just the companionship).
I miss coming home and no matter how crappy my day was, a dog will be there to just be my friend. They're a good source of exercise, they help lower stress levels and pet owners are clinically shown to have lower blood pressure and cholesterol than non-pet owners. It's a win/win situation!
Plus I think about the kids. Evel has ALWAYS had a dog around. I never heard him complain that he was bored and he never really asked to go to his friends houses because he had a source of entertainment at home (a very tiny, evil source of entertainment that seemed to love him and only him). Tink had a dog for the first half of her life. I wasn't around for that part but she still asks if Riley (a small, male Pitt Bull Terrier) is going to ever come to live with us again. And then we have Nutt. Nutt was terrified of the Terrible Twosome (maybe justifiably) the first time he saw them. I don't want him to grow up without the experiences that he would have if we were to have a dog and I don't want him to be nervous around them because he doesn't know how they will react.
But the thing that gets me the most about this dog is that it's a Yellow Lab. I am the worlds BIGGEST sucker for Yellow Labs because for 14 years, my family had Makita.
Makita came to us on a fluke after my Brittney Spaniel (Ginger) died a day after my 12th birthday. The neighbors had this misfit rebel of a dog that they were trying to get rid of so being the sucker that Poppi is (at least where his kids are concerned), we adopted Makita.
This dog was absolute hell on paws when we first got her. She wasn't housebroken (and really had no desire to be), you couldn't open the door without her bolting outside and terrorizing the neighborhood and she chewed almost everything in our home to bits (dining room chairs, the arms to the couch, the legs on the coffee table, one of every single shoe in the house, Poppi's game football that was signed by each of his pony football players the year that he coached them to the playoffs, just to name a few things). We tried muzzling her but if the muzzle was left within her reach while it was off, she would chew that up (we went through three of them). She was hopeless.
Except this dog had Poppi in her corner. He worked and worked with her until he transformed this wild animal into a cherished, docile family companion. Trid and Evel would sit on her back and pretend they were riding a motorcycle, using her ears as handle bars and she never once showed a tooth to them. If she wanted them off, she would just kind of roll over and dump them on the floor. She was by far one of the greatest dogs that I have ever known.
But all great things must come to an end. Makita passed away in 2007 from cancer. I was thankful that I was there with her at the end but I stillbawl like a baby mist up when I think about it. And that's another reason that I want my kids to know the experience of sharing their lives a pet. It will teach them about unconditional love and it will eventually teach them about loss and how to cope with it. I always said that I would never have another dog after Makita, but Evel (and his big, brown eyes and knack for begging) prevailed and we got Mr. Ears. That's his little buddy, even if he doesn't see him that often.
And I know that someday the Mama will call and tell us that Mr. Ears has passed away and Evel will find his own way to cope. Just like I did with Makita and Ginger. Just like Poppi did with Rex (the greatest German Shepherd to ever live). And just like Trid did with Buster (the spunky little Border Collie that we adopted when my parents separated temporarily that became Trid's companion). It's the downfall to pet companionship but it's a small price to pay for all of those years of happiness. And all of the wet kisses and wagging tails that make having a doggy companion TOTALLY worth it.
I found this picture on Sahara's profile on Petfinder.com a few weeks ago and I've been going back to check on it every few days. I've also been riding Big Daddy like a racehorse to call our landlord and
This is the first time that I have lived anywhere longer than a few months without a dog and at first I was
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| Half of the Terrible Twosome, Mr. Ears. The other half is in the background, trying to keep her face hidden so as not to be recognized in a police line up. |
Plus I think about the kids. Evel has ALWAYS had a dog around. I never heard him complain that he was bored and he never really asked to go to his friends houses because he had a source of entertainment at home (a very tiny, evil source of entertainment that seemed to love him and only him). Tink had a dog for the first half of her life. I wasn't around for that part but she still asks if Riley (a small, male Pitt Bull Terrier) is going to ever come to live with us again. And then we have Nutt. Nutt was terrified of the Terrible Twosome (maybe justifiably) the first time he saw them. I don't want him to grow up without the experiences that he would have if we were to have a dog and I don't want him to be nervous around them because he doesn't know how they will react.
But the thing that gets me the most about this dog is that it's a Yellow Lab. I am the worlds BIGGEST sucker for Yellow Labs because for 14 years, my family had Makita.
Makita came to us on a fluke after my Brittney Spaniel (Ginger) died a day after my 12th birthday. The neighbors had this misfit rebel of a dog that they were trying to get rid of so being the sucker that Poppi is (at least where his kids are concerned), we adopted Makita.
This dog was absolute hell on paws when we first got her. She wasn't housebroken (and really had no desire to be), you couldn't open the door without her bolting outside and terrorizing the neighborhood and she chewed almost everything in our home to bits (dining room chairs, the arms to the couch, the legs on the coffee table, one of every single shoe in the house, Poppi's game football that was signed by each of his pony football players the year that he coached them to the playoffs, just to name a few things). We tried muzzling her but if the muzzle was left within her reach while it was off, she would chew that up (we went through three of them). She was hopeless.
Except this dog had Poppi in her corner. He worked and worked with her until he transformed this wild animal into a cherished, docile family companion. Trid and Evel would sit on her back and pretend they were riding a motorcycle, using her ears as handle bars and she never once showed a tooth to them. If she wanted them off, she would just kind of roll over and dump them on the floor. She was by far one of the greatest dogs that I have ever known.
But all great things must come to an end. Makita passed away in 2007 from cancer. I was thankful that I was there with her at the end but I still
And I know that someday the Mama will call and tell us that Mr. Ears has passed away and Evel will find his own way to cope. Just like I did with Makita and Ginger. Just like Poppi did with Rex (the greatest German Shepherd to ever live). And just like Trid did with Buster (the spunky little Border Collie that we adopted when my parents separated temporarily that became Trid's companion). It's the downfall to pet companionship but it's a small price to pay for all of those years of happiness. And all of the wet kisses and wagging tails that make having a doggy companion TOTALLY worth it.
And since I love showing off, here are some photos of the greatest furry friends that I've ever had the pleasure of knowing:
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| The lady of the hour, Makita (AKA Mosquito). As you can see, she's a party animal. Sadly, this is the only picture that I still have of her. It's in a frame on our mantle. |
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| The Rex-meister. This guy was Poppi's buddy. We had him for 15 great years. Such a sweet dog. |
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| Here is Peanut (and her floppy ear). I have no idea why the Mama decided to get this spawn of Satan after Buster died. And I have no idea why she agreed to let me get a second one so they could form a pack of evil. |
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| Mr. Ears (and I'm sure you can tell where he got the name) came to us after Makita died. He was the runt of the neighbors litter and Evel slowly wore me down until we took his hypoglycemic, scrawny butt in. |
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| Here's Buster. He was an odd dog that wagged his tail up and down, couldn't run in a straight line and "smiled" when he was nervous. Go figure he wound up being Trid's buddy. |
Sadly, I no longer have any pictures of Ginger after all of my moves.
I would say that is it but I have 2 more pictures. They weren't dogs, but they're sure cool enough to qualify in my book.
I would say that is it but I have 2 more pictures. They weren't dogs, but they're sure cool enough to qualify in my book.
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| Yoda (AKA Fat Ass Cat Ass). This guy's been around since 1998. He's 23 lbs. of mellow and sweet and love and everything that you wish when you buy a cat. |
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| And this is Kitty Kruger. She is everything that is opposite of Yoda. She is the devil in cat form. We keep her around just for the funny photo opps that she gives us. We rescued her after her mother abandoned her and how does she thank us? Pulls everything out of my purse and uses it for a bed. And she would eat my cigarettes when I was a smoker. And she would claw my feet while I was sleeping. Man, maybe the photo opps aren't really worth it... |
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Pick On Someone Your Own Size...Or Better Yet, No One At All
I love movies. I especially love the movies where the nerdy boy/girl overcomes great odds to show up the popular kids that have been making them feel like crap. Such a great concept...too bad stuff like that never usually happens here in the real world.
My little sister, Trid, is dealing with a few bullies. The worst thing about this bully is that sometimes she is a friend to Trid, then they have an argument and this girl and her posse harass my little sister constantly. It is called relational aggression and it has gotten to the point where my little sister does not like leaving the house for fear that she may run into this girl or one of her cronies. They harass her on Facebook, at school while no one is watching...any chance that they get. My little sister even sent me a text last night asking me to please tell this girl to stop.
It took me back to when I was younger and got picked on. A lot. I was teased because I was tall ("Hey look, it's the Jolly Green Giant!"), because I was fat ("Oh no, it's an earthquake! Nope, it's just Jenn.") and because I was poor ("Where do your parents shop for you? The city dump?"). I was picked on because my best friends (the Gettelbugs) were my friends and THEY were poor. I couldn't escape it. It seemed like any reason that I should be picked on was tattooed across my forehead with a big bulls eye beneath it.
(it's a long story but the follow up is after it)
I told my parents. Their advice? "Just ignore it." Really? Okay. So I became a complete recluse. I became a reader, hung out with the Gettelbugs and a handful of other kids, played with my dog. Still the bullying continued (being a reader gave them even more reasons to pick on me). Thankfully we didn't have the internet so this was confined to school and a few mean girls in my neighborhood.
I also told school administrators. I remember my first grade teacher telling me to "stop being a tattletale and figure out what I'M doing that is causing them to pick on me." Great advice to give a little kid. I had no idea what I was doing. I wracked my brain to figure it out. All that did was make me question the things about myself that I thought were okay and it completely crushed my self-esteem. Obviously if they were picking on me because of my physical self, that needed to change.
This was about the time that I hit sixth grade and went "grunge." I started listening to the Seattle bands, wearing ripped up clothes, not washing my hair...all of this in an effort to make these kids think that I was so weird that they would just leave me alone. That all backfired on me. I was tortured relentlessly because of the way that I dressed, my greasy hair (personally, I will never let any of my kids leave the house looking like I did) and my taste in music. There really was no relief. I hated everything about myself.
This is when I started cutting, way back before they even had a name for it. My 6th grade student teacher noticed it and made me go talk to the guidance counselor. The guidance counselor looked at me like I was insane. Teachers weren't trained on how to deal with stuff like that (looking back, I'm glad they didn't commit me) back then so he sent me to the nurse (who also looked at me like I was insane). She cleaned me up, told me that I'll get ugly scars if I continued and sent me back to class. Problem solved. Except that now everyone thought that I was a weirdo (well, even more of a weirdo than they did before). A girl that cuts herself? Freak! Add another reason to the list.
I just kind of floated with a few select friends throughout my days. I was missing school a lot because I didn't want to deal with the constant harassment. My mom let me stay home one day after I claimed that I was "sick" and I don't remember much about the day except crying a lot. This was the day of my suicide attempt.
I'm not going to get into all of the details because it's a time in my life that I really don't care to remember. But I think that's what it took to finally shock my parents into realizing that I was not okay. Things were more serious than I let on and I was not able to ignore the bullying. It was a very, very dark time in my life. I did not want to get out of bed, eat, shower...nothing. I really didn't care anymore.
Enter Mr. Thompson, a (different) guidance counselor at my school. I began going to talk to him during study hall and he helped me realize that I had to get through this. I talked to him the rest of my 6th grade year and slowly started to feel better about myself. When summer break hit, I was free from the threat of bullies and I was able to slowly repair my self-confidence over the next three months.
You see, something changed inside of me over those three months. I resolved that I would no longer give a damn what anyone thought about me. These kids obviously didn't care that their bullying had almost pushed me into a coffin, why in the hell should I care about them? This probably wasn't the best mentality because after the first girl called me Jolly Green Giant, I knocked her on her ass without blinking an eye. So began my life AS the bully.
I was mean, I was intolerant...I was a fucking nightmare. I would have beaten myself and locked me in my room until I was an adult if I were my parents. I was in fights all the time. I smoked, I drank. I didn't care.
I also got pregnant when I was 17. The wheels on the bus came to a screeching halt that day. I was no longer just protecting myself...I was now responsible for this little life that I was carrying around. It was like someone flipped a switch in my head and kicked me in the ass at the same time. I could spend my life letting this hatred for everything that happened to me eat away at my mind and teach my unborn child that it's okay to be a bully and that it's okay to hate...
Or I could get over myself. The choice for me was simple. I had spent entirely too much time and energy (and money to pay the fines that came along with it) being angry. I was done. I could care less about what people thought of me without punching them in the face. And that's what I did.
The whole point to that long winded story is that I look at Trid and I see her walking down the exact same path that I took. She changed suddenly last year and started wearing black eye liner and trashy clothes and hanging out with girls that did the same. She's now getting into trouble in school and fighting with my parents. I really worry that she will follow the same path that I did because of people making her feel bad about herself.
So I have been printing everything that has been said about my little sister on Facebook and keeping it, just in case we need it. I've also had Trid and my dad log all of the incidents that have happened with this group of girls to prepare for a legal battle if anything arises.
I also found out that the school district that my sister attends has a Zero Tolerance policy on bullying and I'm hoping that I can persuade my parents into taking this a little more seriously than they took my situation since the complaint to the district must be lodged by a parent or guardian (yeah, I've already tried). If the school treats it the way that they treated me when they knew something was going on, I hope that my parents get her out of there. Switch districts. I've already offered to take custody of her (even though she would HATE the way Big Daddy runs this house. No pink hair dye and black eyeliner on middle schoolers here!) just to get her away from all of it. It was one of the best decisions that I have ever made regarding Evel. He's a different kid now that he isn't being picked on every day on his 45 minute bus ride home. But something has got to give with her before it's too late. She can't do this alone.
No kid should have to go through this. I have been on both sides of the bully/victim line and I can't imagine going through it again. I just hope that Trid is stronger than I was and makes it through this unharmed. She's such a beautiful person and for me to have to sit by and watch this happen absolutely kills me. I know how I felt every single day. I just wanted to disappear into my books where everyone lived happily ever after or crawl under my desk and hide until the last bell rang. I just remember the feeling of relief that would was over me when I got off of that bus at night. Now she doesn't even have that because these girls harass her via the internet. I couldn't imagine.
And the real kicker in all of this is that the girls that are putting her through all of this are girls that call themselves her "friends." I don't know about you, but none of my friends make me feel bad about myself. If they do, then they lose the title of "friend" in my book. They become nothing to me. But to be in middle school and have these "friends" call you ugly and tell you that you're a whore and make you feel like shit every other day (and night) is a whole different ballgame. Friends are supposed to help you through stuff like this and help you nurture and grow your self-worth, not tear it to pieces. These girls are toxic and she needs to get the hell away from them before it's too late.
So I am asking you to please listen to your children. Watch for signs of depression since it's never too young for someone to make them feel bad about themselves. In the wake of all of suicides of people that have not even begun their life lately, there are places to turns. Speak to your kids teachers, administrators and even the school Superintendent if it doesn't let up. Keep logs of harassment and document anything from the internet. Please take your children seriously because it could be a matter of life or death.
Links:
For more info on bullying prevention, signs that your child may suffer from depression and other useful resources, please visit the links below:
Stop Bullying Now! (a government sponsored website)
Bullying Prevention - National Crime Prevention Council (with tips from McGruff the Crime Dog)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline - 1-800-273-TALK (general info on suicide with signs to watch for)
Child and Adolescent Mental Health Resources (from the National Institute on Mental Health)
Ellen DeGeneres' Campaign To End Bullying (various links to organizations devoted to ending bullying)
It Gets Better Project (videos from Lesbian, Gay, Bi and Transgendered people to let youth know that it does get better)
To Write Love On Her Arms (a non-profit group dedicated to helping people that are at risk for various reasons. A personal fave of mine)
The Trevor Project (created to also support LGBTQ youth that are being bullied due to their sexual orientation)
The Ophelia Project (focuses on relational aggression and how to stop it. EXACTLY what is happening to my little sister)
Relational Aggression Links (when cliques exclude a person to exert power. EXACTLY what is happening to my sister. provided by Hope House. scroll down the page and many links are listed.)
My little sister, Trid, is dealing with a few bullies. The worst thing about this bully is that sometimes she is a friend to Trid, then they have an argument and this girl and her posse harass my little sister constantly. It is called relational aggression and it has gotten to the point where my little sister does not like leaving the house for fear that she may run into this girl or one of her cronies. They harass her on Facebook, at school while no one is watching...any chance that they get. My little sister even sent me a text last night asking me to please tell this girl to stop.
It took me back to when I was younger and got picked on. A lot. I was teased because I was tall ("Hey look, it's the Jolly Green Giant!"), because I was fat ("Oh no, it's an earthquake! Nope, it's just Jenn.") and because I was poor ("Where do your parents shop for you? The city dump?"). I was picked on because my best friends (the Gettelbugs) were my friends and THEY were poor. I couldn't escape it. It seemed like any reason that I should be picked on was tattooed across my forehead with a big bulls eye beneath it.
(it's a long story but the follow up is after it)
I told my parents. Their advice? "Just ignore it." Really? Okay. So I became a complete recluse. I became a reader, hung out with the Gettelbugs and a handful of other kids, played with my dog. Still the bullying continued (being a reader gave them even more reasons to pick on me). Thankfully we didn't have the internet so this was confined to school and a few mean girls in my neighborhood.
I also told school administrators. I remember my first grade teacher telling me to "stop being a tattletale and figure out what I'M doing that is causing them to pick on me." Great advice to give a little kid. I had no idea what I was doing. I wracked my brain to figure it out. All that did was make me question the things about myself that I thought were okay and it completely crushed my self-esteem. Obviously if they were picking on me because of my physical self, that needed to change.
This was about the time that I hit sixth grade and went "grunge." I started listening to the Seattle bands, wearing ripped up clothes, not washing my hair...all of this in an effort to make these kids think that I was so weird that they would just leave me alone. That all backfired on me. I was tortured relentlessly because of the way that I dressed, my greasy hair (personally, I will never let any of my kids leave the house looking like I did) and my taste in music. There really was no relief. I hated everything about myself.
This is when I started cutting, way back before they even had a name for it. My 6th grade student teacher noticed it and made me go talk to the guidance counselor. The guidance counselor looked at me like I was insane. Teachers weren't trained on how to deal with stuff like that (looking back, I'm glad they didn't commit me) back then so he sent me to the nurse (who also looked at me like I was insane). She cleaned me up, told me that I'll get ugly scars if I continued and sent me back to class. Problem solved. Except that now everyone thought that I was a weirdo (well, even more of a weirdo than they did before). A girl that cuts herself? Freak! Add another reason to the list.
I just kind of floated with a few select friends throughout my days. I was missing school a lot because I didn't want to deal with the constant harassment. My mom let me stay home one day after I claimed that I was "sick" and I don't remember much about the day except crying a lot. This was the day of my suicide attempt.
I'm not going to get into all of the details because it's a time in my life that I really don't care to remember. But I think that's what it took to finally shock my parents into realizing that I was not okay. Things were more serious than I let on and I was not able to ignore the bullying. It was a very, very dark time in my life. I did not want to get out of bed, eat, shower...nothing. I really didn't care anymore.
Enter Mr. Thompson, a (different) guidance counselor at my school. I began going to talk to him during study hall and he helped me realize that I had to get through this. I talked to him the rest of my 6th grade year and slowly started to feel better about myself. When summer break hit, I was free from the threat of bullies and I was able to slowly repair my self-confidence over the next three months.
You see, something changed inside of me over those three months. I resolved that I would no longer give a damn what anyone thought about me. These kids obviously didn't care that their bullying had almost pushed me into a coffin, why in the hell should I care about them? This probably wasn't the best mentality because after the first girl called me Jolly Green Giant, I knocked her on her ass without blinking an eye. So began my life AS the bully.
I was mean, I was intolerant...I was a fucking nightmare. I would have beaten myself and locked me in my room until I was an adult if I were my parents. I was in fights all the time. I smoked, I drank. I didn't care.
I also got pregnant when I was 17. The wheels on the bus came to a screeching halt that day. I was no longer just protecting myself...I was now responsible for this little life that I was carrying around. It was like someone flipped a switch in my head and kicked me in the ass at the same time. I could spend my life letting this hatred for everything that happened to me eat away at my mind and teach my unborn child that it's okay to be a bully and that it's okay to hate...
Or I could get over myself. The choice for me was simple. I had spent entirely too much time and energy (and money to pay the fines that came along with it) being angry. I was done. I could care less about what people thought of me without punching them in the face. And that's what I did.
The whole point to that long winded story is that I look at Trid and I see her walking down the exact same path that I took. She changed suddenly last year and started wearing black eye liner and trashy clothes and hanging out with girls that did the same. She's now getting into trouble in school and fighting with my parents. I really worry that she will follow the same path that I did because of people making her feel bad about herself.
So I have been printing everything that has been said about my little sister on Facebook and keeping it, just in case we need it. I've also had Trid and my dad log all of the incidents that have happened with this group of girls to prepare for a legal battle if anything arises.
I also found out that the school district that my sister attends has a Zero Tolerance policy on bullying and I'm hoping that I can persuade my parents into taking this a little more seriously than they took my situation since the complaint to the district must be lodged by a parent or guardian (yeah, I've already tried). If the school treats it the way that they treated me when they knew something was going on, I hope that my parents get her out of there. Switch districts. I've already offered to take custody of her (even though she would HATE the way Big Daddy runs this house. No pink hair dye and black eyeliner on middle schoolers here!) just to get her away from all of it. It was one of the best decisions that I have ever made regarding Evel. He's a different kid now that he isn't being picked on every day on his 45 minute bus ride home. But something has got to give with her before it's too late. She can't do this alone.
No kid should have to go through this. I have been on both sides of the bully/victim line and I can't imagine going through it again. I just hope that Trid is stronger than I was and makes it through this unharmed. She's such a beautiful person and for me to have to sit by and watch this happen absolutely kills me. I know how I felt every single day. I just wanted to disappear into my books where everyone lived happily ever after or crawl under my desk and hide until the last bell rang. I just remember the feeling of relief that would was over me when I got off of that bus at night. Now she doesn't even have that because these girls harass her via the internet. I couldn't imagine.
And the real kicker in all of this is that the girls that are putting her through all of this are girls that call themselves her "friends." I don't know about you, but none of my friends make me feel bad about myself. If they do, then they lose the title of "friend" in my book. They become nothing to me. But to be in middle school and have these "friends" call you ugly and tell you that you're a whore and make you feel like shit every other day (and night) is a whole different ballgame. Friends are supposed to help you through stuff like this and help you nurture and grow your self-worth, not tear it to pieces. These girls are toxic and she needs to get the hell away from them before it's too late.
So I am asking you to please listen to your children. Watch for signs of depression since it's never too young for someone to make them feel bad about themselves. In the wake of all of suicides of people that have not even begun their life lately, there are places to turns. Speak to your kids teachers, administrators and even the school Superintendent if it doesn't let up. Keep logs of harassment and document anything from the internet. Please take your children seriously because it could be a matter of life or death.
Links:
For more info on bullying prevention, signs that your child may suffer from depression and other useful resources, please visit the links below:
Stop Bullying Now! (a government sponsored website)
Bullying Prevention - National Crime Prevention Council (with tips from McGruff the Crime Dog)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline - 1-800-273-TALK (general info on suicide with signs to watch for)
Child and Adolescent Mental Health Resources (from the National Institute on Mental Health)
Ellen DeGeneres' Campaign To End Bullying (various links to organizations devoted to ending bullying)
It Gets Better Project (videos from Lesbian, Gay, Bi and Transgendered people to let youth know that it does get better)
To Write Love On Her Arms (a non-profit group dedicated to helping people that are at risk for various reasons. A personal fave of mine)
The Trevor Project (created to also support LGBTQ youth that are being bullied due to their sexual orientation)
The Ophelia Project (focuses on relational aggression and how to stop it. EXACTLY what is happening to my little sister)
Relational Aggression Links (when cliques exclude a person to exert power. EXACTLY what is happening to my sister. provided by Hope House. scroll down the page and many links are listed.)
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
PCDR can KMFA
Ugh. I don't even know what else to say anymore. Honestly.
I had a conference with Perry County Domestic Relations this morning because Evel's deadbeat dad petitioned to have support dropped. Again. This is the third year in a row that he's done this sighting his reason as he does not see Evel (his choice, not mine). Apparently in his world, if you shun the physical responsibility of your children, you are not obligated to any financial responsibility either. It must be nice to be so delusional.
But I was yet again ordered to appear for a child support conference. PCDR is now 45 minutes to an hour away from where I live, dependent upon how fast or slow the driver in front of you can navigate Route 34. So I called and bitched. In this case, something actually went our way and I was granted a teleconference. Sweet! This means that Big Daddy wouldn't have to lose and entire days pay so I could drive an hour down there in the middle of the day, listen to the violins playing Douchebag Dad's song for an hour and then drive an hour home. I was set and ready!
Except for the part where I forgot to get all of my info together (pay stubs, taxes, insurance info). The court officer told me that it was no problem as long as I had the info in front of me, including the tax info that was locked in our safe. The safe to which the key was dangling from Big Daddy's keyring at his work...you know, the work that he didn't have to miss because I now had a teleconference? This would have been fine and dandy if our Internet was working. But instead of being able to go online and print a copy of my taxes because our Poedunk cable company can't keep their customers serviced, I had to call Big Daddy and have him drive the whole way home with the key. I normally would have just driven to get it but I was stuck at home WAITING ON THE CABLE GUY!
Thankfully, I have the best significant other in the world, who also understands that I have the short term memory of a gnat. He came home, unlocked the safe and saved the day! Or so I fucking thought until the phone rang...
At 11:30, the conference began. The court officer got me on the phone and asked me all about my life.
Was I working? No.
Why was I not working? I have a 6 month old baby to take care of and I can't afford daycare for my oldest son because his dad is a waste of oxygen.
Are you currently breastfeeding this baby? WTF? No. I didn't know that my son's eating habits were of importance to Domestic Relations.
Why am I not collecting unemployment from when Micheal's closed? Because I made roughly enough to cover the cost of gas to get there and that amount didn't qualify for unemployment.
What color underwear do you have on? Okay, she didn't ask that but I would not have been surprised.
So after she interrogated me on everything from my baby to my boobies, she tells me that she is going to try to get D-bag Dad on the line. Please hold. So I'm holding. And I'm holding. Then I held a little more. Finally she gets back on the line and tells me that he isn't answering at the number that he provided. Then it hit me. That asshole had requested a teleconference, too!
Number one, he wanted to drag me into court because I'm sure he knows that it's amassive slight inconvenience for me to drive that far and I'm sure that he was hoping I just wouldn't show up. If I don't show up, the order can be modified. Number two, HE DIDN'T ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE! Doesn't that mean that he didn't show up so this is all thrown out on it's ass?
Not in Perry County. The woman that we always get stuck dealing with goes on to tell me that she would try to get in touch with him later. Seriously? So he gets a second chance to miss a court date? I could see if this was the first time that he had slipped up or petitioned the court, but he does this every fucking year! How blind are you people?? He doesn't pay support for a year and doesn't go to jail, he misses court date, he blatantly violates court orders and you're going to get in touch with him later?
So then this woman goes on to tell me that the support order will never be dropped unless I request it or Evel is adopted by Big Daddy. This I knew. She tells me that D-bag is looking for a little bit of relief, even just $20 a week. Really? Evel only gets $45 a week from D-bag right now. I guess if D-bag needs an extra $20 a week to blow on drugs and strippers, $25 a week is a fair amount for me to use to raise a kid nowadays (be careful, I don't want anyone to slip and fall on the sarcasm that was dripping from that statement). She also tells me that pending the subpoena that was sent to his employer to verify the wage change from $10 to $8 an hour, the case will be reviewed and the amount will be adjusted accordingly and I will receive a notice in the mail about their decision.
Wh-wh-what? Apparently they are reviewing my case and his other child support case to see if they can provide him with any "relief." Relief? Where is my fucking relief? I was a single mom for a long damn time and I know what it's like to struggle. He could care less about any of his kids and they're trying to get him some relief? Give him a tube of Preparation H and bottle of Rolaids and tell him to suck it up and be a fucking man for a change. I don't even get the state minimum amount of child support and I have not asked for a raise, even a cost of living raise, since all of this was started back in 2000. How in the hell are they going to lower anything? And I was told that after they received the info from the income subpoena and figured out "where he is with his job," they would give me their decision. Where he is? That's a great fucking question. Where has he been since he abandoned his son when he was three? Where has he been instead of working to pay the child support for that same son? Where has he been instead of sitting in jail because he doesn't pay the child support? Where is he instead of on the telephone with you because he requested this fucking conference? When you figure it out lady, I hope you can fucking tell me!
And so help me god if this is because I took a year off from working to take care of a baby with a disability, I will flip my fucking lid on those people. And I'm going back to school in the fall to get a nursing degree so I don't have to depend on this piece of shit to help me take care of a child that he doesn't want anything to do with. Full time schooling is the same thing as full time employment as far as the state laws are concerned. Between all the shit that we've had to deal with from D-bag Dad and Big Fat Bitch Face, I have read the laws so many time that should be a fucking lawyer.
Basically, we're just supposed to wait and see how PCDR feels like screwing us this time. We'll receive a letter in the mail and I have 20 days to contest their decision if I don't agree with it. Unless it goes up, you're GD right I don't agree with it after all the shit this man has put us through and gotten to walk away from. He works less and less to avoid his responsibilities and doesn't care who he hurts, namely my son. I swear to god, if I saw him crossing the street while I was driving, I wouldhit him with my car pull over and calmly ask him what the hell his problem is. There is a hatred so vile for this man that has been brewing in my stomach for so long that I feel like I could spit acid right now.
I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself, but when you hurt my kids, it's a whole new ballgame. He's done more than enough damage by abandoning his child and my son knows what happens at Domestic Relations. He's old enough to put it together in his own head and he's realized that when he sees that letter from them in the mail, it means the man that is supposed to be nurturing and caring for him is trying to get out of the last little bit of responsibility that he has to him. I hate him this much because seeing my sons face when the letters come and hearing him call his dad by his real name and knowing that it hurts him breaks my heart into a million little pieces every damned time. And knowing that I can't do anything about it makes it that much worse.
All of this shit that we deal with when he crawls out from under his rock is like being forced onto a roller coaster that you've ridden before and knowing that it kicked your ass, but you have to get on again anyway. So now we just have to wait for this ride to come to a complete stop and see how sick it actually made us this time.
I had a conference with Perry County Domestic Relations this morning because Evel's deadbeat dad petitioned to have support dropped. Again. This is the third year in a row that he's done this sighting his reason as he does not see Evel (his choice, not mine). Apparently in his world, if you shun the physical responsibility of your children, you are not obligated to any financial responsibility either. It must be nice to be so delusional.
But I was yet again ordered to appear for a child support conference. PCDR is now 45 minutes to an hour away from where I live, dependent upon how fast or slow the driver in front of you can navigate Route 34. So I called and bitched. In this case, something actually went our way and I was granted a teleconference. Sweet! This means that Big Daddy wouldn't have to lose and entire days pay so I could drive an hour down there in the middle of the day, listen to the violins playing Douchebag Dad's song for an hour and then drive an hour home. I was set and ready!
Except for the part where I forgot to get all of my info together (pay stubs, taxes, insurance info). The court officer told me that it was no problem as long as I had the info in front of me, including the tax info that was locked in our safe. The safe to which the key was dangling from Big Daddy's keyring at his work...you know, the work that he didn't have to miss because I now had a teleconference? This would have been fine and dandy if our Internet was working. But instead of being able to go online and print a copy of my taxes because our Poedunk cable company can't keep their customers serviced, I had to call Big Daddy and have him drive the whole way home with the key. I normally would have just driven to get it but I was stuck at home WAITING ON THE CABLE GUY!
Thankfully, I have the best significant other in the world, who also understands that I have the short term memory of a gnat. He came home, unlocked the safe and saved the day! Or so I fucking thought until the phone rang...
At 11:30, the conference began. The court officer got me on the phone and asked me all about my life.
Was I working? No.
Why was I not working? I have a 6 month old baby to take care of and I can't afford daycare for my oldest son because his dad is a waste of oxygen.
Are you currently breastfeeding this baby? WTF? No. I didn't know that my son's eating habits were of importance to Domestic Relations.
Why am I not collecting unemployment from when Micheal's closed? Because I made roughly enough to cover the cost of gas to get there and that amount didn't qualify for unemployment.
What color underwear do you have on? Okay, she didn't ask that but I would not have been surprised.
So after she interrogated me on everything from my baby to my boobies, she tells me that she is going to try to get D-bag Dad on the line. Please hold. So I'm holding. And I'm holding. Then I held a little more. Finally she gets back on the line and tells me that he isn't answering at the number that he provided. Then it hit me. That asshole had requested a teleconference, too!
Number one, he wanted to drag me into court because I'm sure he knows that it's a
Not in Perry County. The woman that we always get stuck dealing with goes on to tell me that she would try to get in touch with him later. Seriously? So he gets a second chance to miss a court date? I could see if this was the first time that he had slipped up or petitioned the court, but he does this every fucking year! How blind are you people?? He doesn't pay support for a year and doesn't go to jail, he misses court date, he blatantly violates court orders and you're going to get in touch with him later?
So then this woman goes on to tell me that the support order will never be dropped unless I request it or Evel is adopted by Big Daddy. This I knew. She tells me that D-bag is looking for a little bit of relief, even just $20 a week. Really? Evel only gets $45 a week from D-bag right now. I guess if D-bag needs an extra $20 a week to blow on drugs and strippers, $25 a week is a fair amount for me to use to raise a kid nowadays (be careful, I don't want anyone to slip and fall on the sarcasm that was dripping from that statement). She also tells me that pending the subpoena that was sent to his employer to verify the wage change from $10 to $8 an hour, the case will be reviewed and the amount will be adjusted accordingly and I will receive a notice in the mail about their decision.
Wh-wh-what? Apparently they are reviewing my case and his other child support case to see if they can provide him with any "relief." Relief? Where is my fucking relief? I was a single mom for a long damn time and I know what it's like to struggle. He could care less about any of his kids and they're trying to get him some relief? Give him a tube of Preparation H and bottle of Rolaids and tell him to suck it up and be a fucking man for a change. I don't even get the state minimum amount of child support and I have not asked for a raise, even a cost of living raise, since all of this was started back in 2000. How in the hell are they going to lower anything? And I was told that after they received the info from the income subpoena and figured out "where he is with his job," they would give me their decision. Where he is? That's a great fucking question. Where has he been since he abandoned his son when he was three? Where has he been instead of working to pay the child support for that same son? Where has he been instead of sitting in jail because he doesn't pay the child support? Where is he instead of on the telephone with you because he requested this fucking conference? When you figure it out lady, I hope you can fucking tell me!
And so help me god if this is because I took a year off from working to take care of a baby with a disability, I will flip my fucking lid on those people. And I'm going back to school in the fall to get a nursing degree so I don't have to depend on this piece of shit to help me take care of a child that he doesn't want anything to do with. Full time schooling is the same thing as full time employment as far as the state laws are concerned. Between all the shit that we've had to deal with from D-bag Dad and Big Fat Bitch Face, I have read the laws so many time that should be a fucking lawyer.
Basically, we're just supposed to wait and see how PCDR feels like screwing us this time. We'll receive a letter in the mail and I have 20 days to contest their decision if I don't agree with it. Unless it goes up, you're GD right I don't agree with it after all the shit this man has put us through and gotten to walk away from. He works less and less to avoid his responsibilities and doesn't care who he hurts, namely my son. I swear to god, if I saw him crossing the street while I was driving, I would
I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself, but when you hurt my kids, it's a whole new ballgame. He's done more than enough damage by abandoning his child and my son knows what happens at Domestic Relations. He's old enough to put it together in his own head and he's realized that when he sees that letter from them in the mail, it means the man that is supposed to be nurturing and caring for him is trying to get out of the last little bit of responsibility that he has to him. I hate him this much because seeing my sons face when the letters come and hearing him call his dad by his real name and knowing that it hurts him breaks my heart into a million little pieces every damned time. And knowing that I can't do anything about it makes it that much worse.
All of this shit that we deal with when he crawls out from under his rock is like being forced onto a roller coaster that you've ridden before and knowing that it kicked your ass, but you have to get on again anyway. So now we just have to wait for this ride to come to a complete stop and see how sick it actually made us this time.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Fair Weather Fans and The Super Bowl
It's that time of year again....time to sling mud at the "fair weather" fans that cheer for a team in the Super Bowl.
People get so up in arms about their football team being in the Super Bowl. They argue that they are the biggest fan and that everyone around them is just pulling for their team (as if they actually own the team and all rights to it) because they're doing well. They're probably right. Most of the people that come out of the woodwork during Super Bowl season have no idea what team they like. They watch football once a year because they have a friend that throws a kick ass Super Bowl party and if the team they're cheering for wins, that's their favorite team. If they lose, they'll be gone in the morning faster than a tequila fueled one night stand.
But the ridiculousness of the situation has now been amplified by Facebook. I've seen 11 posts this morning saying roughly the same thing - "It sucks that my team, the Steelers, didn't win, but I'm happy for Green Bay." What? You're team didn't win but you're happy for the other guys? This isn't intramural sports where we try to teach kids not to be sore losers...this is NFL football! This is the holy grail of the season! That's the equivalent of congratulating Hitler on conquering Poland. And you call yourself a fan.
I am a Minnesota Vikings fan. I have always been a Minnesota Vikings fan. My dad is a Minnesota Vikings fan. My Grandfather was a Minnesota Vikings fan. My youngest sister is a Minnesota Vikings fan (the other on abandoned us for the Jets and I have yet to forgive her). My sons will be raised to be a Minnesota Vikings fans. It's in our blood. I threatened my father with disownership because he said he was THINKING about pulling for Green Bay to win this year ("Dad, you call yourself a fan?? You don't pull for our division rivals! What in the hell is wrong with you??"). I have cried because my Vikings have gotten eliminated (numerous times) in the playoffs and wished the plague on the team that beat them. I didn't say "Oh well, hopefully the winning teams fans will get to see their team go to the Super Bowl!" I want MY TEAM to go to the Super Bowl!
Maybe that's because Minnesota has never won a Super Bowl. EVER. Hell, they've never even been to a Super Bowl in my lifetime. They've been to Super Bowls (four in the 70's but sadly, I wasn't around until '82) and just couldn't pull the trigger. We are tied with the Denver Broncos for the most Super Bowls LOST (4). I want my team to freakin win!
So I'd like to offer a permanent home to all of you fans that can't decide which teams bandwagon to hitch a ride on. COME TO THE MINNESOTA VIKINGS! We've never won a Super Bowl so no one can hold that over your head! And for the ladies we offer a lovely selection of purple to add to your wardrobe. Sure, Baltimore can offer purple, too, but can they offer the adorable braided Helga Horns? I think not! So when you get sick of orphaning your other teams and you're looking for a permanent home, the Minnesota Vikings will be here waiting for you!
Unless we're headed to the Super Bowl. Then you can kiss our asses.
People get so up in arms about their football team being in the Super Bowl. They argue that they are the biggest fan and that everyone around them is just pulling for their team (as if they actually own the team and all rights to it) because they're doing well. They're probably right. Most of the people that come out of the woodwork during Super Bowl season have no idea what team they like. They watch football once a year because they have a friend that throws a kick ass Super Bowl party and if the team they're cheering for wins, that's their favorite team. If they lose, they'll be gone in the morning faster than a tequila fueled one night stand.
But the ridiculousness of the situation has now been amplified by Facebook. I've seen 11 posts this morning saying roughly the same thing - "It sucks that my team, the Steelers, didn't win, but I'm happy for Green Bay." What? You're team didn't win but you're happy for the other guys? This isn't intramural sports where we try to teach kids not to be sore losers...this is NFL football! This is the holy grail of the season! That's the equivalent of congratulating Hitler on conquering Poland. And you call yourself a fan.
I am a Minnesota Vikings fan. I have always been a Minnesota Vikings fan. My dad is a Minnesota Vikings fan. My Grandfather was a Minnesota Vikings fan. My youngest sister is a Minnesota Vikings fan (the other on abandoned us for the Jets and I have yet to forgive her). My sons will be raised to be a Minnesota Vikings fans. It's in our blood. I threatened my father with disownership because he said he was THINKING about pulling for Green Bay to win this year ("Dad, you call yourself a fan?? You don't pull for our division rivals! What in the hell is wrong with you??"). I have cried because my Vikings have gotten eliminated (numerous times) in the playoffs and wished the plague on the team that beat them. I didn't say "Oh well, hopefully the winning teams fans will get to see their team go to the Super Bowl!" I want MY TEAM to go to the Super Bowl!
Maybe that's because Minnesota has never won a Super Bowl. EVER. Hell, they've never even been to a Super Bowl in my lifetime. They've been to Super Bowls (four in the 70's but sadly, I wasn't around until '82) and just couldn't pull the trigger. We are tied with the Denver Broncos for the most Super Bowls LOST (4). I want my team to freakin win!
So I'd like to offer a permanent home to all of you fans that can't decide which teams bandwagon to hitch a ride on. COME TO THE MINNESOTA VIKINGS! We've never won a Super Bowl so no one can hold that over your head! And for the ladies we offer a lovely selection of purple to add to your wardrobe. Sure, Baltimore can offer purple, too, but can they offer the adorable braided Helga Horns? I think not! So when you get sick of orphaning your other teams and you're looking for a permanent home, the Minnesota Vikings will be here waiting for you!
Unless we're headed to the Super Bowl. Then you can kiss our asses.
And since I love showing off my family so much, here are some Vikings highlights:
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| I made this for Poppi's profile picture on Facebook. He said he wanted one that would help get him chicks. Whadda ya think? |
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| Trid (age 11) rawkin the Moss jersey that I got her when she was 5. |
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| Mr. and Mrs. McVikings, Mr E and myself at the Vikings/Bills game in '06 |
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| Cheering for our team with random Vikings fans at the Buffalo Bills stadium |
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| The aforementioned "adorable braided Helga Horns" modeled by yours truly. |
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| Me and Evel getting ready to watch our Vikings lose to New Orleans in the playoffs |
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| Nutt wasn't even here yet and he already had his first jersey! |
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| Evel in his purple on MSAD '11 |
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| Trid in her Moss jersey on the day I bought it for her (age 5) |
Friday, January 28, 2011
Evel's Dad Has Crawled Out From Under His Rock Again
Well I called it. I got a letter from Perry County Domestic Relations that Evel's dad filed requesting termination or decrease in Evel's support order. *yawn* It's almost not even worth bitching about anymore (I said almost).
This dipshit is still over $2000 in arrears because he didn't pay his support for over a year and I'm sure he knows that he won't be getting an income tax return again this year so he figured he'd give it another shot before tax time. Maybe he thinks I'll have a change of heart and relieve him of his financial duties. Maybe he doesn't know who he's dealing with.
If you're not even going to see your son, you're sure as hell going to remember that he exists somehow. I'm sure Evel thinks about not having his real dad in his life everyday so kiss my big, white ass. The only way I will ever terminate the order is if Evel himself decides that he wants Big Daddy to legally adopt him. Until then, you're SOL. This is the bed that you've made for yourself. Get comfy because you're going to be in it for another seven years.
I just don't see how someone can walk away from their child like that. I'm all about having a life separate from my kids so I don't go insane, but I could not imagine not seeing them for 8 years. I (usually) miss the little tikers after a nice, relaxing, yet invigorating, weekend. With Tink's custody arrangement, she's gone for a week at a time if it's not our weekend and that about kills Big Daddy. I'm just thankful that he's here to support Evel (emotionally and financially) while Evel's father is off being a waste of life. Any guy can make a baby but it takes a man to raise a child, especially someone elses.
This dipshit is still over $2000 in arrears because he didn't pay his support for over a year and I'm sure he knows that he won't be getting an income tax return again this year so he figured he'd give it another shot before tax time. Maybe he thinks I'll have a change of heart and relieve him of his financial duties. Maybe he doesn't know who he's dealing with.
If you're not even going to see your son, you're sure as hell going to remember that he exists somehow. I'm sure Evel thinks about not having his real dad in his life everyday so kiss my big, white ass. The only way I will ever terminate the order is if Evel himself decides that he wants Big Daddy to legally adopt him. Until then, you're SOL. This is the bed that you've made for yourself. Get comfy because you're going to be in it for another seven years.
I just don't see how someone can walk away from their child like that. I'm all about having a life separate from my kids so I don't go insane, but I could not imagine not seeing them for 8 years. I (usually) miss the little tikers after a nice, relaxing, yet invigorating, weekend. With Tink's custody arrangement, she's gone for a week at a time if it's not our weekend and that about kills Big Daddy. I'm just thankful that he's here to support Evel (emotionally and financially) while Evel's father is off being a waste of life. Any guy can make a baby but it takes a man to raise a child, especially someone elses.
Monday, December 6, 2010
If Only I Were a Lawmaker (Instead of a Law Breaker)
Please take this blog into consideration when you're at the polls during the next round of elections. Below are some laws I would push for if I were elected to city, state, or federal government. So remember folks, vote for J.Fo as your write-in candidate!
1. Out of state drivers will have their own lane (notice 'lane' is not plural) on Pennsylvania highways. That way they can annoy the shit out of each other by going 5 miles an hour under the speed limit, tailgating and slowing down at every single exit on a 50 mile stretch of I-81 until they find the one they are looking for. Any out of state driver found driving in a Pennsylvania lane of traffic will receive no less than a $1000.00 fine and a mandatory 30 day suspension of their drivers license. Fines and penalties are doubled during holiday weekends.
2. NO ONE in North Carolina will be allowed to drive on Pennsylvania roads, including the out-of-state driver lane (sorry Beau and Jami). They do not stop at stop signs or use turn signals and they tailgate. I've seen it on 2 separate occasions on 2 separate days. Any North Carolina licensed drivers caught driving in Pennsylvania will be forced to surrender their license immediately and hitchhike home using the out-of-state driver lane.
3. Route drivers will have their own lane on the highway with a minimum speed limit of no less than 65 miles per hour. If you can't keep up with the minimum speed limit, you will be required to merge your vehicle into regular traffic lanes on said highways to allow other route drivers to get past. Anyone that is not a route driver that opts to illegally travel in the route lane or any route driver that does not comply with the minimum 65 mile and hour speed limit while in the route lane will be subject to a mandatory ramming from behind. Route drivers do not drive their own vehicles and they do not care what happens to the vehicles they are driving so travel at your own risk. Any driver that is rammed from behind will be found at fault for any damage incurred to either vehicle.
4. SYSCO Food Service of Central PA, LLC employees with an 8:00 AM or earlier start time are not required by law to follow posted speed limit signs on any highway before 9:00 AM. Your car must be clearly marked with your SYSCO parking badge to qualify for this benefit. Police escorts are available depending on the severity of tardiness and department the employee is working in (i.e. 7:56 AM for a Customer Service Rep). Please call your local police department to see if you qualify for the benefit.
5. Any licensed driver that reaches the age of 65 will be subject to a yearly road driving course re-test. This must be done within 2 weeks prior to their birthday. Anyone failing to complete the mandatory road re-test will lose their license at 12:00 AM on the calendar day following their birthday for an entire calendar year. Any driver that does not pass their road re-test will incur and automatic one year suspension of their driver's license. They will be eligible to retake the road test on their birthday of the next calendar year. Three failed road re-tests and driving privileges are revoked forever. Transportation will be provided via horse and buggy. The Amish don't pay taxes so they have to earn their worth somehow.
6. Anyone found in the United States that is not a LEGAL UNITED STATES CITIZEN will be deported back to their country of origin IMMEDIATELY upon discovery in the United States. Any minors (i.e. children of the illegal alien or children under primary guardianship of the illegal alien) will remain in said illegal alien's custody during deportation. All deportees names, photos and fingerprints will be kept in a federal database so if the said deportee is rediscovered in the United States, they will be shipped immediately to the North Pole.
7. Anyone that is heard complaining about how horrible the United States is will be fined no less than $100.00. If you don't like this country, there are many other countries around the world that may suit you better (please remember to file for citizenship) and there are daily boats leaving for the North Pole with free admission.
8. Mexico will become the 51st state of the United States. All residents will become United States citizens and will be responsible for all aspects of citizenship (i.e. federal, state, and local income taxes, property taxes, sales tax, beer tax, cigarette tax, school taxes, privilege to work taxes, etc.). All United States laws will take effect immediately as well as consequences for breaking these laws.
9. Residents living in a school district without children in that school district are not subject to paying ridiculously high school taxes that said district now requires them to pay. If said school district cannot stay open after these taxes are cut, they must revert to smaller schools in local communities which will give children an opportunity for a more focused, less stressed out teacher.
10. Women that require child support from a father or men that require child support from a mother must keep all receipts of cost incurred by said child (or children) for the month prior (such as but not limited to: baby wipes, daycare, food for home, rental expenses, formula, diapers, co-pays for doctors/dentist visits, etc.). Any itemized cost that does not qualify (i.e. getting nails/hair/boobs/teeth done, car payment, boyfriend's tattoo ink/needles for shop, cocaine/beer/illegal drug costs, etc.) must be repayed
12. Any person convicted of a violent crime (i.e. murder, sexual assault, pedophilia, etc.) that has been convicted of said crime by DNA evidence will be executed immediately. Pedophiles will be neutered/spayed without anesthesia three days prior to execution. Prison overcrowding is a problem that needs to be solved as soon as possible. All people that have been sentenced to more than one (1) year behind bars must now work to earn their keep. All said felons will begin filling jobs that were left vacant by deportation of above mentioned illegal aliens immediately upon conviction. Anyone that tries to escape while working will be shot on sight. Survivors will be shot again.
Please keep checking back for updates to these laws in new blogs. There will be many more to come. And remember, vote for J.Fo.
1. Out of state drivers will have their own lane (notice 'lane' is not plural) on Pennsylvania highways. That way they can annoy the shit out of each other by going 5 miles an hour under the speed limit, tailgating and slowing down at every single exit on a 50 mile stretch of I-81 until they find the one they are looking for. Any out of state driver found driving in a Pennsylvania lane of traffic will receive no less than a $1000.00 fine and a mandatory 30 day suspension of their drivers license. Fines and penalties are doubled during holiday weekends.
2. NO ONE in North Carolina will be allowed to drive on Pennsylvania roads, including the out-of-state driver lane (sorry Beau and Jami). They do not stop at stop signs or use turn signals and they tailgate. I've seen it on 2 separate occasions on 2 separate days. Any North Carolina licensed drivers caught driving in Pennsylvania will be forced to surrender their license immediately and hitchhike home using the out-of-state driver lane.
3. Route drivers will have their own lane on the highway with a minimum speed limit of no less than 65 miles per hour. If you can't keep up with the minimum speed limit, you will be required to merge your vehicle into regular traffic lanes on said highways to allow other route drivers to get past. Anyone that is not a route driver that opts to illegally travel in the route lane or any route driver that does not comply with the minimum 65 mile and hour speed limit while in the route lane will be subject to a mandatory ramming from behind. Route drivers do not drive their own vehicles and they do not care what happens to the vehicles they are driving so travel at your own risk. Any driver that is rammed from behind will be found at fault for any damage incurred to either vehicle.
4. SYSCO Food Service of Central PA, LLC employees with an 8:00 AM or earlier start time are not required by law to follow posted speed limit signs on any highway before 9:00 AM. Your car must be clearly marked with your SYSCO parking badge to qualify for this benefit. Police escorts are available depending on the severity of tardiness and department the employee is working in (i.e. 7:56 AM for a Customer Service Rep). Please call your local police department to see if you qualify for the benefit.
5. Any licensed driver that reaches the age of 65 will be subject to a yearly road driving course re-test. This must be done within 2 weeks prior to their birthday. Anyone failing to complete the mandatory road re-test will lose their license at 12:00 AM on the calendar day following their birthday for an entire calendar year. Any driver that does not pass their road re-test will incur and automatic one year suspension of their driver's license. They will be eligible to retake the road test on their birthday of the next calendar year. Three failed road re-tests and driving privileges are revoked forever. Transportation will be provided via horse and buggy. The Amish don't pay taxes so they have to earn their worth somehow.
6. Anyone found in the United States that is not a LEGAL UNITED STATES CITIZEN will be deported back to their country of origin IMMEDIATELY upon discovery in the United States. Any minors (i.e. children of the illegal alien or children under primary guardianship of the illegal alien) will remain in said illegal alien's custody during deportation. All deportees names, photos and fingerprints will be kept in a federal database so if the said deportee is rediscovered in the United States, they will be shipped immediately to the North Pole.
7. Anyone that is heard complaining about how horrible the United States is will be fined no less than $100.00. If you don't like this country, there are many other countries around the world that may suit you better (please remember to file for citizenship) and there are daily boats leaving for the North Pole with free admission.
8. Mexico will become the 51st state of the United States. All residents will become United States citizens and will be responsible for all aspects of citizenship (i.e. federal, state, and local income taxes, property taxes, sales tax, beer tax, cigarette tax, school taxes, privilege to work taxes, etc.). All United States laws will take effect immediately as well as consequences for breaking these laws.
9. Residents living in a school district without children in that school district are not subject to paying ridiculously high school taxes that said district now requires them to pay. If said school district cannot stay open after these taxes are cut, they must revert to smaller schools in local communities which will give children an opportunity for a more focused, less stressed out teacher.
10. Women that require child support from a father or men that require child support from a mother must keep all receipts of cost incurred by said child (or children) for the month prior (such as but not limited to: baby wipes, daycare, food for home, rental expenses, formula, diapers, co-pays for doctors/dentist visits, etc.). Any itemized cost that does not qualify (i.e. getting nails/hair/boobs/teeth done, car payment, boyfriend's tattoo ink/needles for shop, cocaine/beer/illegal drug costs, etc.) must be repayed
12. Any person convicted of a violent crime (i.e. murder, sexual assault, pedophilia, etc.) that has been convicted of said crime by DNA evidence will be executed immediately. Pedophiles will be neutered/spayed without anesthesia three days prior to execution. Prison overcrowding is a problem that needs to be solved as soon as possible. All people that have been sentenced to more than one (1) year behind bars must now work to earn their keep. All said felons will begin filling jobs that were left vacant by deportation of above mentioned illegal aliens immediately upon conviction. Anyone that tries to escape while working will be shot on sight. Survivors will be shot again.
Please keep checking back for updates to these laws in new blogs. There will be many more to come. And remember, vote for J.Fo.
Friday, December 3, 2010
AT&T Stands For: Avoid, Trick & Torment
This is a repost from February 8, 2008. You'll understand why I wrote it when you read it. AT&T sucks.
So I dropped my phone in the toilet. I need a new one because my last piece of crap phone (before toilet phone) that we were forced into upgrading to no longer works. Every time I close it, it shuts off. Not very effective in the art of communication if you ask me. So being customers for 8 FREAKING YEARS, Poppi and I mozied on down to our friendly neighborhood AT&T store (24 miles away) to see what options we have for upgrading since none of us has gotten a new phone from them in 2 1/2 years. (A little side note here, the original AT&T would allow you and upgrade with FREE phone every 18 months if you renewed your contract).
So we get to the store and are greeted by an older gentleman. We tell him our dilemma and that we don't have much money to spend so he proceeds to take us to the Blackberry Pearls. After I stop myself from laughing in his face, I explain that I was looking for something a little less than $200 (something a little closer to free). Poppi says he wants to switch to push to talk and the look of a first grader asked to solve a calculus equation crosses the salesman's face. So as he's looking on his magic computer for which phones have that function, my dad and I find the gigantic display with the push to talk phones on it. The cheapest is $80 (after a $30 upgrade on our account, my $50 upgrade credit and a $50 mail in rebate). So nix that idea. As he wanders back over to explain the phones, Poppi tells him that we can't do that right now. So at this point, I'm annoyed and ask him to please show me the cheapest phone in the store. He takes us over to the crap ass little phone (I'm not picky but this phone was pathetic) that would have cost $40 after all the the rebates. Can't do it.
So after explaining this to him, he asked if I tried to dry out the other phone. I proceed to pull my Razor (in the little bag of rice that was supposed to be absorbing the water out of the phone) out of my purse. He laughs at me. D-bag point number one. He asks if I've tried it. I say yes but I think the battery may be dead. He offers to plug it in and try it for me. I give it to him and he asks for my SIM card. My youngest little sister (out of the kindness of her heart) let me use her Go Phone so I hand that to him. He opens it up, takes the SIM card out and puts it in my phone UPSIDE DOWN. And you work at a cell phone store? I would think that was something they would go over in training class. Anyway, he fixes it and then tries to put the battery in. It didn't fit. Why? It was a SAMSUNG batter from Trid's Go Phone that he was trying to cram into a MOTOROLA RAZOR!! What is wrong with this picture? D-bag points number two and three. So finally he gets the right battery in the right phone and plugs it in. It flashes but won't stay on so he suggested I keep it in the rice for a bit longer and lay it on or in the general vicinity of a heater vent. Fine. So he goes to switch the phones back and when he puts the SIM in the Go Phone, guess what? UPSIDE DOWN AGAIN. D-bag point number four.
All the while as Opie is trying to work the phones, he's talking to me. He hit on me not once, but twice. He complimented me on my ring then asked if I was married. I laughed at him and said no. Then he asked if I had a boyfriend. I don't care if I was a lesbian, I would have said yes. D-bag point number five. Then he made a comment about the rice. In my state of panic, apparently I used brown rice to absorb the water. He said it was better for me than white and I looked like a girl that took care of herself. Was I? Not really, I replied, I hate rice. D-bag point number six. Six D-bag Points in a 20 minute conversation. Impressive.
Way to waste an hour of my life (if you count the half hour it took my dad and I to drive there). So the moral of this story, kiddies - switch to Nextel. Or Verizon. Or T-Mobile. AT&T sucks.
So I dropped my phone in the toilet. I need a new one because my last piece of crap phone (before toilet phone) that we were forced into upgrading to no longer works. Every time I close it, it shuts off. Not very effective in the art of communication if you ask me. So being customers for 8 FREAKING YEARS, Poppi and I mozied on down to our friendly neighborhood AT&T store (24 miles away) to see what options we have for upgrading since none of us has gotten a new phone from them in 2 1/2 years. (A little side note here, the original AT&T would allow you and upgrade with FREE phone every 18 months if you renewed your contract).
So we get to the store and are greeted by an older gentleman. We tell him our dilemma and that we don't have much money to spend so he proceeds to take us to the Blackberry Pearls. After I stop myself from laughing in his face, I explain that I was looking for something a little less than $200 (something a little closer to free). Poppi says he wants to switch to push to talk and the look of a first grader asked to solve a calculus equation crosses the salesman's face. So as he's looking on his magic computer for which phones have that function, my dad and I find the gigantic display with the push to talk phones on it. The cheapest is $80 (after a $30 upgrade on our account, my $50 upgrade credit and a $50 mail in rebate). So nix that idea. As he wanders back over to explain the phones, Poppi tells him that we can't do that right now. So at this point, I'm annoyed and ask him to please show me the cheapest phone in the store. He takes us over to the crap ass little phone (I'm not picky but this phone was pathetic) that would have cost $40 after all the the rebates. Can't do it.
So after explaining this to him, he asked if I tried to dry out the other phone. I proceed to pull my Razor (in the little bag of rice that was supposed to be absorbing the water out of the phone) out of my purse. He laughs at me. D-bag point number one. He asks if I've tried it. I say yes but I think the battery may be dead. He offers to plug it in and try it for me. I give it to him and he asks for my SIM card. My youngest little sister (out of the kindness of her heart) let me use her Go Phone so I hand that to him. He opens it up, takes the SIM card out and puts it in my phone UPSIDE DOWN. And you work at a cell phone store? I would think that was something they would go over in training class. Anyway, he fixes it and then tries to put the battery in. It didn't fit. Why? It was a SAMSUNG batter from Trid's Go Phone that he was trying to cram into a MOTOROLA RAZOR!! What is wrong with this picture? D-bag points number two and three. So finally he gets the right battery in the right phone and plugs it in. It flashes but won't stay on so he suggested I keep it in the rice for a bit longer and lay it on or in the general vicinity of a heater vent. Fine. So he goes to switch the phones back and when he puts the SIM in the Go Phone, guess what? UPSIDE DOWN AGAIN. D-bag point number four.
All the while as Opie is trying to work the phones, he's talking to me. He hit on me not once, but twice. He complimented me on my ring then asked if I was married. I laughed at him and said no. Then he asked if I had a boyfriend. I don't care if I was a lesbian, I would have said yes. D-bag point number five. Then he made a comment about the rice. In my state of panic, apparently I used brown rice to absorb the water. He said it was better for me than white and I looked like a girl that took care of herself. Was I? Not really, I replied, I hate rice. D-bag point number six. Six D-bag Points in a 20 minute conversation. Impressive.
Way to waste an hour of my life (if you count the half hour it took my dad and I to drive there). So the moral of this story, kiddies - switch to Nextel. Or Verizon. Or T-Mobile. AT&T sucks.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
More Little Scabies of Life
This is a continuation of a blog I did a while ago about shit that annoys me. I've had a short fuse lately, so the list has grown significantly. Here we go...
- Boys that wear girls pants. This is ri-goddamn-diculous. You have a penis. I don't want to see your junk squashed into a pair of Levi Slim Cut because you feel the need to emasculate yourself to get chicks. I would fucking eat you alive.
- When people ask me to "borrow" a tissue or napkin. Know what buddy, you can go right ahead and keep it. I don't want it back after you've blown your nose or wiped your mouth with it. It's all yours.
- People who park crooked. They make the little lines on the parking space straight for a reason! Take the extra 30 seconds to back up and try it again. It makes me want to piss in your gas tank.
- Loud children in restaurants. I work in a casual fine dining restaurant. People come there to relax and sip martinis, not to put up with your screaming brats that are throwing grilled potato slices across the table at each other. Shut them up or get the hell out. My son doesn't do it. We are running a restaurant, not a zoo or a playground.
- Celebrity baby names. Seriously, Apple? Who names their effin kid Apple?
- People that send me multi-media messages on my cell phone when they know I can't get them. I refuse to pay and extra $15 a month on top of the $30 a month I already pay for "Unlimited text, picture and multi-media" messaging on my AT&T bill to get them. See, read the fine print. AT&T sucks. Don't send them to me.
- Aftertastes. I've eaten the food, it's now in my belly, so why do I want to have the taste still lingering in my mouth? And it never tastes the same. I eat some delicious ice cream and now I'm walking around breathing the funk of sour milk on other people. Ask me why I'm an obsessive/compulsive teeth brusher.
- The fact that there's a million checkout lines at Wal-Mart (or any bigger store) and there are only 3 open. This drives me absolutely insane. And you always get stuck waiting with your measly 3 items behind Shaniqua, her 35 kids and her 3 shopping carts that are brimming with Twinkies and jeans that are too tight to ever possibly fit over her fat ass. Thank god for self-checkout.
- When people leave me a voicemail and mark it 'Urgent' when it's not. Are you trapped in a burning building or is someone I care about dead? No? Then it's not fucking urgent!
- Relatives that ask me when I'm planning on settling down. This also includes relatives that, when I'm dating someone for longer than a month, ask me when I'm getting married. I'm going to do what my parents did when I bugged them for something and make you wait longer. Every time you ask me, I'm going to wait a year. This should put me at about...NEVER!
- Rap. Not all rap, mind you. But I can't stand the shit about how much money you have, how fly your bitches are or your pimped out ride. I don't give a shit about your bling or your grill. You talk in rhymes, you're going to blow all of your money on necklaces and houses and you'll be no one in 10 years. Look at MC Hammer.
- McDonald's cups that my son lets sit in my back cup holder. I don't look in the back seat often and I'm sure if you have kids, this has happened to you at least once. The carbonation from the soda somehow chemically reacts and eats through the cardboard of the cup so you're left with a bottomless cup floating in a puddle of root beer. And you know that if you lift the cup, it's just going to leak all over the interior of your car. This is a no win situation.
- Over-priced items. These items (i.e. candy, popcorn, sodas, cotton candy, beach towels) can be found at places such as movie theaters, theme parks, carnivals, concerts, etc. I will take a chance on getting busted for smuggling a bottle of soda into a movie theater rather than shell out the $4.75 for a small coke. I'm already got raped paying for gas to get to the theater and paying $9.00 for the ticket to get in so cut me some slack.
- Paternity test shows. I don't care who the baby daddy is! Anyone that would drag someone on TV to let all of America know that she let 6 different guys blow a load in her around the same time that her kid was conceived is trash. That's a private matter and I can't believe Maury Povich would exploit these d-bags on public television for ratings. It is sickening. And then we have the women that have paternity tested 10 different guys and STILL haven't figured out who the father is. That's like announcing the world that you are a whore. At least start charging for it so you can support that kid.
- When someone notices that something smells bad so they stick it in your face and say "Eww, this stinks. Smell it." I'm guilty of this myself. If you've already noticed that something smells or tastes putrid, wouldn't you want to protect everyone around you and get rid of it ASAP? No, we're all sadistic little bastards that want our friends to suffer just as much as we did.
- I bought a pack of 20 and I'm down to 2. Yes, 2. I've seen that damned cat batting them around the house and I take them from her, but somehow she manages to get them back. I've found them under every major appliance and piece of furniture in our house. I'm actually thinking of resorting to buying a pack of color coded ones just for her. Seriously cat, give them back when you're done with them!
- Packaging for toys. I bought my sister a Bratz doll and it took me no less than 10 minutes to get that sucker out of the packaging. I had to unwind all the little twisty things and pull out the little plastic zig-zag things that were taped down, only to find that her hair was SEWN INTO the cardboard backing. What the hell? I swear to god that is how I spent half of my Christmas morning, opening toys for the kids because playing with them was like trying to get into Ft. Knox.
- Dogs barking when I'm trying to sleep. It's usually my dogs that bark if they hear someone fart (I swear it's true). I love my pets and would never hurt them, but I now understand animal abuse. When you're semi-conscious at 3 a.m., it doesn't count.
- The fact that I have a TV station out of Philly when I live over an hour away. What the hell? The weather doesn't matter to me, the current events don't matter to me so why would they put that channel on my 'local channels'? I guess it's better than the one out of Baltimore that we used to have...
- Having to get the Big 10 Network to watch all of the Penn State games. I don't have DirectTV and if I'm not mistaken (which I may be) Comcast is now offering it, but in my neck of the woods, Comcast is not an option for cable subscription. State College is 50 miles from my house and I can't sit at home to watch every game? It would probably cost less for me to drive to State College, buy a scalped ticket and watch the game live than it would be for me to switch to DirectTV and buy the subscription.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Who Are the Real "Menaces To Society??"
I cannot wait until I am old so I can be an absolute nightmare behind the wheel of a car or in a grocery store and people will just blame it on my age. I will hit small children and dogs with my cane and no one will bat and eye because I am "set in my ways." Yeah, and people think that teenagers are a menace to society?
This latest round of "Old People Excuses" was the last straw after all of the other harassment that I've put up with this year:
1. The old man that yelled at me as I was leaving the doctor's office with Nutt because I parked in the handicapped parking space. I think you need to get your eyes checked old man because the spot I was parked in was not handicapped, it just so happened to be the closest spot to the front door. And I have to lug a car seat with a ten pound baby in it to and from the office. So you and your sense of entitlement can kiss my baby lugging butt. If I wouldn't have had my child with me, I would have told you exactly where I thought you could park your car.
2. The old lady that rammed the back of my heels with her cart at Giant, not once, not twice but THREE FRIGGIN' TIMES! And when I turned and asked her, with a visibly pissed off look on my face, what she was trying to attempt by trying to slice through my Achilles Tendon, she replied, "I need to get to the spaghetti sauce." Seriously? GO THE HELL AROUND ME! We are not on a highway where suffering a head-on collision would seriously injure your brittle bones! But rather than yell at the sweet old lady, I moved my cart out of the way and let her pass.
3. The old lady that held up the line forever at A-Plus to get cash in her mi-day daily number winnings so she could buy her evening tickets. 50 tickets worth! I stood there so long waiting on the cashier to scan all of these tickets and for this ancient woman to pick another buttload of numbers, that my coffee was actually cooled enough to drink when I got in my car. Seriously, go to Smoker's Express where they have a separate lottery line for people like you to squander their social security checks.
These were all just irritating to me but the incident that pushed me over the edge involved an old woman behind the wheel of a car, myself and my kids. DO NOT mess with my kids.
I was on my way to the store the other night to get formula for Nutt. I decided to take Evel and Tink with me and let them each pick out their own special snack for the week. We made it to the light to turn left across the strip and into Giant and this is wear it started to get hairy.
See, the light at Giant has two left turn lanes and two lights. You must wait for the lights to turn to green arrows that point left to turn across the strip. I was the first car in line in the right turning lane waiting to turn. So as we're waiting at the light, in my rear view mirror, I see cars lined up in both lanes but no car next to me in the left lane. Odd. So I turned and glanced and there in my blind spot is a silver Honda. Good to know.
About that time, we got the green arrows. I started to go and as I'm making the turn into the parking lot, out of nowhere this silver Honda comes veering from their lane (the left turn lane) and into mine (the right turn lane). They were cruising and I had to swerve to avoid having this person almost hit me (how I did not hit the curb is beyond me). I would have been pissed but let it go...but my kids were in the car. And this person didn't even stop to make sure they didn't hit me or to see if we were okay. Hell no.
At the next light, I blinked my lights at the person to get their attention. Nothing. At the stop sign, I blinked my lights and honked. Nothing. I was pissed by this time so instead of going into Giant, I followed this person into the Kohl's parking lot. They parked and I pulled into a spot in the next row. I told Evel to lock the doors and call Big Daddy if the cops showed up.
As I'm marching over to the offending party's car, I'm running all of the things through my head that I'm going to say. So low and behold my surprise when I get there and out climbs a little old lady, at least 80 years old and no taller than my armpits. Great. She looked like she might have just peed her depends and I started to feel bad...and then she opened her mouth:
Old Lady: What seems to be the problem?
Me: Are you aware that you almost hit my car when we turned into the parking lot? I have two kids in my car.
Old Lady: Maybe you should watch where you are going.
*Insert seeing red here*
Me: Excuse me? You left your lane and came into mine and almost hit the car that my children are riding in, you crazy old bat!
Old Lady: Well, if I really did what you say I did, then I'm sorry. I didn't see you.
Me: You didn't see my giant green car as you were veering toward it? Maybe you need new glasses if you can't see other cars on the road!
About this time, another lady walks up. She had been in the car behind me when Granny Nutbag went kamikaze at the light.
Other Lady: How about we just calm down. She just got confused.
Old Lady: Yeah, I was confused.
Me: You were f*cking confused? She was confused? Well maybe if she is so f*cking confused behind the wheel she should surrender her license before she actually gets into an accident! If my kids would have gotten hurt because you were "confused" (insert air quotes and sarcasm), I would have sued you for your entire pension!
Other Lady: There's no need for that language.
Old Lady: That's elderly abuse. You were the one that came into my lane!
I swear to god, I had to restrain myself from kicking her in the shins.
Me: Now you definitely need your eyes checked! You are f*cking crazy!
Other Lady: (to the Old Lady) No, you went into her lane.
Old Lady: Oh. (pause while thinking about what to do) I got confused!
I don't even remember what else I said to her...something about calling PennDot to have her license revoked and having her thrown into a nursing home. This was about the time I noticed a crowd gathering to watch the throw down and figured it was time to make my exit. I was so pissed when I got back in the car that I forgot to get her plate number. The kids just stared at me until I bribed them with promises of cookies and ice cream if they didn't tell Big Daddy.
I don't think it would have escalated like it did if she would have just apologized and asked if the kids were okay. And then when she accused me of being at fault when the other lady showed up. This is why I believe that anyone over 65 should have to take a yearly road test or lose their license for a year. The Amish can cart their asses around since they don't pay taxes.
So think what you want about me for yelling at an old lady. But fatality rates for drivers begin to climb after age 65, according to a recent study by Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh and the AAA Foundation for traffic safety, based on data from 1999-2004. From ages 75 to 84, the rate of about 3 deaths per 100 million miles driven is equal to the death rate of teenage drivers. For drivers 85 and older (which this lady surely was), the fatality rate skyrockets to nearly four times higher than that for teens. I don't care who is behind the wheel, if they put my children in danger, they will hear my thoughts on the subject.
Source for fatality facts: Older, Dangerous Drivers a Growing Problem (Robert Davis and Anthony DeBarros for USA Today)
This latest round of "Old People Excuses" was the last straw after all of the other harassment that I've put up with this year:
1. The old man that yelled at me as I was leaving the doctor's office with Nutt because I parked in the handicapped parking space. I think you need to get your eyes checked old man because the spot I was parked in was not handicapped, it just so happened to be the closest spot to the front door. And I have to lug a car seat with a ten pound baby in it to and from the office. So you and your sense of entitlement can kiss my baby lugging butt. If I wouldn't have had my child with me, I would have told you exactly where I thought you could park your car.
2. The old lady that rammed the back of my heels with her cart at Giant, not once, not twice but THREE FRIGGIN' TIMES! And when I turned and asked her, with a visibly pissed off look on my face, what she was trying to attempt by trying to slice through my Achilles Tendon, she replied, "I need to get to the spaghetti sauce." Seriously? GO THE HELL AROUND ME! We are not on a highway where suffering a head-on collision would seriously injure your brittle bones! But rather than yell at the sweet old lady, I moved my cart out of the way and let her pass.
3. The old lady that held up the line forever at A-Plus to get cash in her mi-day daily number winnings so she could buy her evening tickets. 50 tickets worth! I stood there so long waiting on the cashier to scan all of these tickets and for this ancient woman to pick another buttload of numbers, that my coffee was actually cooled enough to drink when I got in my car. Seriously, go to Smoker's Express where they have a separate lottery line for people like you to squander their social security checks.
These were all just irritating to me but the incident that pushed me over the edge involved an old woman behind the wheel of a car, myself and my kids. DO NOT mess with my kids.
I was on my way to the store the other night to get formula for Nutt. I decided to take Evel and Tink with me and let them each pick out their own special snack for the week. We made it to the light to turn left across the strip and into Giant and this is wear it started to get hairy.
See, the light at Giant has two left turn lanes and two lights. You must wait for the lights to turn to green arrows that point left to turn across the strip. I was the first car in line in the right turning lane waiting to turn. So as we're waiting at the light, in my rear view mirror, I see cars lined up in both lanes but no car next to me in the left lane. Odd. So I turned and glanced and there in my blind spot is a silver Honda. Good to know.
About that time, we got the green arrows. I started to go and as I'm making the turn into the parking lot, out of nowhere this silver Honda comes veering from their lane (the left turn lane) and into mine (the right turn lane). They were cruising and I had to swerve to avoid having this person almost hit me (how I did not hit the curb is beyond me). I would have been pissed but let it go...but my kids were in the car. And this person didn't even stop to make sure they didn't hit me or to see if we were okay. Hell no.
At the next light, I blinked my lights at the person to get their attention. Nothing. At the stop sign, I blinked my lights and honked. Nothing. I was pissed by this time so instead of going into Giant, I followed this person into the Kohl's parking lot. They parked and I pulled into a spot in the next row. I told Evel to lock the doors and call Big Daddy if the cops showed up.
As I'm marching over to the offending party's car, I'm running all of the things through my head that I'm going to say. So low and behold my surprise when I get there and out climbs a little old lady, at least 80 years old and no taller than my armpits. Great. She looked like she might have just peed her depends and I started to feel bad...and then she opened her mouth:
Old Lady: What seems to be the problem?
Me: Are you aware that you almost hit my car when we turned into the parking lot? I have two kids in my car.
Old Lady: Maybe you should watch where you are going.
*Insert seeing red here*
Me: Excuse me? You left your lane and came into mine and almost hit the car that my children are riding in, you crazy old bat!
Old Lady: Well, if I really did what you say I did, then I'm sorry. I didn't see you.
Me: You didn't see my giant green car as you were veering toward it? Maybe you need new glasses if you can't see other cars on the road!
About this time, another lady walks up. She had been in the car behind me when Granny Nutbag went kamikaze at the light.
Other Lady: How about we just calm down. She just got confused.
Old Lady: Yeah, I was confused.
Me: You were f*cking confused? She was confused? Well maybe if she is so f*cking confused behind the wheel she should surrender her license before she actually gets into an accident! If my kids would have gotten hurt because you were "confused" (insert air quotes and sarcasm), I would have sued you for your entire pension!
Other Lady: There's no need for that language.
Old Lady: That's elderly abuse. You were the one that came into my lane!
I swear to god, I had to restrain myself from kicking her in the shins.
Me: Now you definitely need your eyes checked! You are f*cking crazy!
Other Lady: (to the Old Lady) No, you went into her lane.
Old Lady: Oh. (pause while thinking about what to do) I got confused!
I don't even remember what else I said to her...something about calling PennDot to have her license revoked and having her thrown into a nursing home. This was about the time I noticed a crowd gathering to watch the throw down and figured it was time to make my exit. I was so pissed when I got back in the car that I forgot to get her plate number. The kids just stared at me until I bribed them with promises of cookies and ice cream if they didn't tell Big Daddy.
I don't think it would have escalated like it did if she would have just apologized and asked if the kids were okay. And then when she accused me of being at fault when the other lady showed up. This is why I believe that anyone over 65 should have to take a yearly road test or lose their license for a year. The Amish can cart their asses around since they don't pay taxes.
So think what you want about me for yelling at an old lady. But fatality rates for drivers begin to climb after age 65, according to a recent study by Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh and the AAA Foundation for traffic safety, based on data from 1999-2004. From ages 75 to 84, the rate of about 3 deaths per 100 million miles driven is equal to the death rate of teenage drivers. For drivers 85 and older (which this lady surely was), the fatality rate skyrockets to nearly four times higher than that for teens. I don't care who is behind the wheel, if they put my children in danger, they will hear my thoughts on the subject.
Source for fatality facts: Older, Dangerous Drivers a Growing Problem (Robert Davis and Anthony DeBarros for USA Today)
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