Lemme catch m'breath (Sun 04 Nov 2007)

First off, I'm gonna whine.
I am so sick of being treated like sh*t at work. I am fed up with people being mad at me for not paying their bills, or worse, being mad that we only pay a portion. Yeah, right, if we paid everyone's $700 utility bill or $3000 of past due rent we'd be able to help, oh, right, just those two people for the whole year. Honestly I have no idea how the electric or gas company can even allow such bills to accrue. On Thursday I became acquainted with the account of a woman whose electric bill tops $2200. How does that happen? Especially here, where our electric rates are supposedly among the best in the nation.

Waaaaay too much candy.
For Halloween (which may go down in history as the highest-grossing production ever), Torrin was Davy Jones, the be-tentacled, ghostly gross Pirates of the Caribbean character; Mira was a little pirate girl; I was a nun and The Boy Who Lived was a priest. No, I was not a "naughty nun" as Mira's punka$s dad suggested. "Do I look like a naughty nun?" I asked following his accusal, to which he replied, "No, but you...nevermind." About a week ago he sent me an e-mail which asserted, among other things, that he was considering telling my family that I am/was a "sex worker." Are you kidding me? WTH.

Fancy Footwork
Anyway, for reasons including the above, The Chosen One waited at a bookstore while we stopped at Mira's dad's house. He waited in the car while we went in to his mother's house. And narrowly avoided him as he picked up Mira for his first solo overnight visit ever on Friday night. I hate, hate, hate that I'm still playing Hide-The-Boy whenever Mira's dad is entering the equation but I am just not ready to deal with the corresponding fallout.

We had a "talk."
We, as in, me and The Boy Who Lived. Yes, he's still living, and he's still the chosen one. He walked out of my house Saturday morning without telling me that he was leaving. Tired, shoulder-aching, young, frustrated, non-parent that he is, try as he may, he was fed up. Drained of patience. Mira had been gone for the night, so I thought, no problem, I can find someone to watch Torrin so we can go see a movie. American Gangster came out on Friday and he's a movie enthusiast. Since he's been with me, he hasn't seen many movies at all. Mira, and to a lesser degree, Torrin, rather impede that particular activity. Well, the departure of Torrin's dad really puts a damper on sitter availability. I couldn't find one, so we couldn't go.
Unfortunately, we haven't gone out without children since before the last trip to his home state. That may not seem like a long time, but one must remember that the Chosen One isn't an old fogey parent-type like me. I feel like I'm depriving him the spontaneity of youth, limiting his opportunities; domesticating him, taming a wild animal. He feels that he is being selfish. I feel like I'm being selfish. Last night, I had hoped to avenge the previous night's disappointment. At the last minute I found someone to watch the kids while we went to a movie (and it wasn't easy in the slightest to do). We got there fifteen minutes before showtime and the movie was sold out. The Assasination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford was playing at the same time so we went to that instead and it was sooooo slow-moving. They should have played the thing in fast-forward. I don't know why I didn't fall asleep. And to make matters worse Casey Affleck reminds me of Mira's butthead dad Mason. Freaking figures.
I'd sent The Boy Who Lived a text message a couple of hours following his quiet disappearance saying that he should break up with me. I kind of regretted sending it but it did seem that something needed to be said. Unfortunately, I'm probably the one girl who can't talk when it comes time for a Talk. I don't know what to say, or I have something, but it just waits there in my throat for a good fifteen minutes before it escapes, generally against its will. I hate discussions. I hate being put on the spot and I hate answering questions (in person, that is. I'll answer anything if I can type or write it out). In any case we're still highly enamored of each other. That 'love' word runs through my thoughts (uninvited) often but logic gauges the predicament at "deep infatuation."

Sunday November 4, 2007 - 01:51pm (PST)

talks are a good thing-and i know u kno that. if u have to say how u feel on paper, do it! but just get it out there. u guys r so good 2gether, so don't lose him just because u can't find your voice. don't feel bad for him either. he can go out whenever he wants-tell him that so he doesn't feel guilty. U kno his situation and yours....but does he realize that u kno that? I've often felt like mine should break up with me cuz I'm just too crazy and psycologically messed up to maintain a "normal" relationship....and I've said that he should just break up with me or why does he stay with me etc. Guess what? This is pretty normal! And he's not messed up like some of the others have been....he's too good to be true, right? You have to wake up sometime, right? All normal feelings, but the reality if very different. It's hard for me to not feel this way, too. So you're not alone. But u do need 2 talk, as difficult as it may seem. Once I even "talked" on paper to Oskar. I felt kind of stupid, but the situation warranted it and it worked. So whatever u feel for him or whatever your opinion on the situation, if it's going to work, there has to be communication, even if it's in the form of a stupid note! Email me if you need to talk. I check up on you on here, u kno! U do have ppl to talk to...even if it is email. I'd like to know what happens because I care about u. BESOS! --Flamenco dancer
Saturday November 10, 2007 - 04:19am (PST)

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