So we have been having a problem with boo/diva lately.
She grabs her crotch more than MJ himself…and isn’t appropriate for a 6 year old to be doing. She’s gotten in a lot of trouble for it.
Well yesterday, she comes up to me and is holding her crotch again. We call it her “butt”.
Me: Diva, is there something wrong with your butt?
She looks at me with her innocent little face….
then FARTS
then says “no?”
My children just ain’t right. *facepalm*
Doncha just love it when I go on a downward spiral? I mean, the world is so focused on the pain, suffering, humiliation, and fuckups of everyone around them…I guess it keeps their attention off their own pain.
My own blog here doesn’t seem to be any exception. My happy posts are the least viewed, followed by the rants, then the really painful confessions are the ones that are the most read.
I guess this post is not really any different than any before, except slightly more painful for me to type, but its been bottled up for about 24 hours now and I’m not sure how much more of the internal torment I can take.
A while back, I heard a rumor that my friend, Tony, may in fact be alive. It was a stunning revelation, and I still had no way to contact him or verify the information.
Well, I may have found him on facebook. I quickly sent a message last night, before I could chicken out or blabber….he invited me to add him, so I’ve been waiting for him to confirm it.
If he has pictures, I’ll know. If he will talk to me, I will know. There are some people in his friends list that give me a hint it MAY be my Tony, but I don’t know for sure yet. There are almost too many coincidences for it NOT to be him.
So I’m sitting here, listening to sappy love songs and crying my eyes out.
I didn’t start crying until shorty reminded me of this school project…where he had to burn a cd…and lawd almighty do I have music. We stumbled upon John Mayer’s “Dreaming with a broken heart” and it hit me. HARD.
When you’re dreaming with a broken heart
Then waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she’s not, ’cause she’s gone, gone, gone, gone, gone….
When you’re dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?
No she can’t, ’cause she’s gone, gone, gone, gone, gone….
Now do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hands
Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?
Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?
Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my , roses in my hands?
Would you get them if i did?
No you won’t, ’cause you’re gone, gone, gone, gone, gone….
When you’re dreaming with a broken heart
Then waking up is the hardest part
Hearing it is so painful I want to vomit.
Change the “she” to a “he” and it just fucking fits.
It, of course, brought back so many memories..and the most painful is the perfect recall of the last few hours I ever spent with him. Where we went to eat. What we said. What we laughed over. Sitting on the couch, talking…his arms around me.
Kicking myself in the ass for making him sleep on the couch.
Crying my eyes out when I woke up the next morning to find out he had left for Brooklyn.
Falling in a heap and not moving, only crying, for two hours after finding the note he wrote me before he left.
…my heart being ripped out of my chest and stomped flat when I heard he was dead.
This, of course, was before I met my husband.
You see, I finally admitted today, that 10 years ago, I loved Tony. Not the same way as I love my kids or my friends, but in love with him…the same way I love my husband now.
I couldn’t admit it then. I don’t know why I’m admitting it now.
I don’t know what I’m going to do when he accepts my friend request and I find out its him. I’m almost hoping it isn’t, even though it is so hard to open my inbox and see his name.
And now another fit of tears as a new song starts to play…
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
Remember the good times that we had?
I let them slip away from us when things got bad
How clearly I first saw you smilin’ in the sun
Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
I’m so tired but I can’t sleep
Standin’ on the edge of something much too deep
It’s funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside, but we can’t be heard
But I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
I’m so afraid to love you, but more afraid to loose
Clinging to a past that doesn’t let me choose
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light
And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
Weep not for the memories
I really hate it when songs fit so well. This one makes me want to puke too.
I couldn’t admit how I felt about him, and refused to take that way he looked at me wrong…
Because my dad is a racist prick.
So I ran to the gas station to get a mt dew.
I left shorty here, and took diva with me.
I’m gone a whopping 5 minutes. My screen saver wasn’t even on when I got back.
I go to unlock the door and shorty yanks it open and is having a cow.
“MOM!!!!!!1111!!!!!!!ELEVENTYONE!!!! THE POWER IS OUT IN MY ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!1!1!1!1!”
First instinct: check the breakers.
One was half popped, so I turned it all the way off and promptly lost all light to the kitchen, my bedroom, and dining room, but my dishwasher was still going. I had no light.
I had to grope around my bedroom until I found the emergency LED camping light we learned was essential after the huge storm came through with 90mph winds and took out the power for 24 hours.
I find the light, and proceed to cut the power to the entire house, including the main, and flip them back on one at a time.
Finally had power (and light) to everywhere EXCEPT shorty’s room and half the living room.
Great.
Called the ex landlord because we had the same exact problem when we moved in and he managed to fix it once. I figured he would still remember what was wrong and how to cure it.
I get my instructions and start to dig.
I took the plate off the three switch dooflicker next to the front door. I pried the middle switch out of the wall (and nearly bent one of my acrylic nails bakkards, and now my finger hurts). I pried the grey backing plate off the middle switch and watched all the guts fall out.
Super.
I start stuffing things back in according to the positions of the wires. These aren’t little puny wires like you find in your car. These are thick copper wires that are nearly as stubborn as diva.
We then started playing the back and forth game until shorty offered to man the breaker box.
Nothing was working. The lights weren’t coming on. I jammed the screwdriver under a nail on my other hand. I accidentally stabbed the drywall with the screwdriver. I’m starting to think (yet again) that I shouldn’t be allowed to play with screwdrivers unless they contain copious amounts of vodka.
(Remind me, sometime, to tell you about the time I stabbed myself in the face. With a screwdriver.)
I send a text to the ex landlord: “Its not working still…and i dont know what else to do.”
Started jamming the switch back in the wall (after shorty turned the power back on) to give up until someone more adept with screwdrivers can come over and look at it, and I shit you not…
…I heard the word of God himself…
…”LET THERE BE LIGHT”….
and my living room lit up like a christmas tree.
Sent another text to ex landlord: “Oh wait…whatever i did…worked. Not going to question it now. Srry to bother again.”
We’re good now. Two fingers hurt like hell and I still can’t hear out of my right ear because of this freaking cold, but I fixed the electrical problem.
Alll by myself.
Hummph.
