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I landed on the duct-taped parts

  • Posted on May 4, 2009 at 1:06 pm
This entry is part 8 of 10 in the series atypicalrelationship

I am not the right woman for him.

I refuse to discuss marriage.

I am shoving my children down his throat.

I am just using him for sex.

I am under my mama’s thumb (and after her money).

I let That House come between us.

I wouldn’t have nothin’ if it weren’t for my Daddy dying. HE worked for it all.

I’m looking for a father for my kids, not a relationship.

The texts keep coming. I flipped the bitchswitch, the cold-as-ice, the “there’s no way in hell I’d speak to you again” mode as soon as he accused me of shoving my children down his throat. I’m already a single mom – I already do it all alone. I’d rather do it alone than with a jackass any day of the week. He asks, textingly, if I miss him. I reply that it doesn’t matter if I miss him or not, he’s not the man for me or my children.

Weeks go by, and I call/text. I need to know when/if he is going to pay his portion of the phone bill. He goes off on a tangent.

His wife, his soon-to-be-ex, his friend stops by and speaks to my manager at work. Leaves a letter for me with him, telling me to leave “her husband” alone. No calling, no texting. He’s in my past, it’d be best to leave him there. Complete with a copy of NC’s “criminal conversation” law. No problem – I call the phone company and have service to that line interrupted. I will not be responsible for a phone bill when I’m “not allowed” to call or text that line.

His parents come in the store, and I ask if he’d reconciled with her. They look at me like I’ve grown horns. I showed them the letter, and how it sounds as if they are back together. They say they’ll take care of it, and we go our separate ways.

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Interlude: Humiliations Galore

  • Posted on April 30, 2009 at 5:07 pm
This entry is part 4 of 10 in the series atypicalrelationship

His parents went to Greensboro for dinner and a hotel room to celebrate a special family occasion.

Which means that we had one of the very few chances for us to have some quiet alone time.

After a full day that involved trying to pull the toilet in my bathroom to unclog it (can’t do it – one of the bolts is rusted on) (calling him to find out if he can help me but he didn’t answer the call til 3 hours later), cleaning, shopping for / trying to find pants for work and then going to work (at a grocery store. during thanksgiving shopping week. you do the math), flipping out on Miss “I’m not STUPID I made sure all the leaves were way way far away before I set the stuff on fire in the driveway” (but without making sure that the waterhose actually FUNCTIONS) during my dinner break I was exhausted.

I dropped the go-kart off at the house (after work. At 1130pm) and rode with him back to his house, where I learned the HARD way that hot water lasts about five minutes. So much for that hawt shower scene he had planned….

So I dried my shudderingly shivering body off and listened to him talk about how the heating element needs to be fixed (dude? I have a 50 gallon hot water heater set to 120 degrees – I can shower while the dishwasher runs and STILL finish my shower pink and pleasantly toasty). Then we made our way to the bedroom where his plan included shaving. With a set of loud 20 yr old clippers. I lost count of how many times he nicked me with that thing. The vibration was somewhat pleasant though.

Did I mention his bedroom used to be the side porch? It was just a smidge freezing in there. And there’s just enough room for a twin bed, a computer desk, and a small dresser. Claustrophobia anyone?

THEN he realized that I would need another shower since hair was everywhere. The good news? The hot water heater had regenned. The bad news? again – not nearly long enough. Cold. Coldcoldcoldcoldcold.

Y’all? it’s 1am by now and I’m fried. And rocking in his bed trying to get warm and calm the exhaustion-related panic attack that’s right around the corner. And all I could think of was my lovely bottle of meds tucked away into my medicine cabinet. At my house.

Unfortunately, I failed miserably. I spent the next 45 minutes in his mama’s bathroom sick as a dog – complete with vomiting.

He did reasonably well by me, but couldn’t quite grasp the WHY involved in my sickness.

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Update to Subwaygate:

  • Posted on June 1, 2008 at 12:52 am

Subway has apologized, saying

We at SUBWAY restaurants place a high value on education, regardless of the setting, and have initiated a number of programs and promotions aimed at educating our youth in the areas of health and fitness.
We sincerely apologize to anyone who feels excluded by our current essay contest. Our intention was to provide an opportunity for traditional schools, many of which we know have trouble affording athletic equipment, to win equipment. Parents who home school their children make a tremendous commitment which we greatly respect, and can provide a terrific education. Our intent was certainly not to exclude home schooled children from the opportunity to win prizes and benefit from better access to fitness equipment.
To address the inadvertent limitation of our current contest and provide an opportunity for even more kids to improve their fitness, we will soon create an additional contest in which home schooled students will be encouraged to participate. When the kids win, everyone wins!

Unfortunately, that’s not good enough for some. (Usually I link to the original story instead of a reposting, but I had an email claiming that the boycott originated with this post. ) This attitude is the perfect example of the “can’t win” situation. You complained, they responded, and you’re miffed because “that’s not good enough”.

Well suck it up and press on kid. Fortunately, you’re in the minority with that attitude. Generally speaking, the posts I’ve seen have been appreciative and positive about Subway’s response.

My original post here

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Subway discriminates against homeschoolers, ohnoes!!!!!

  • Posted on May 26, 2008 at 11:03 am

Subwaygate. They’re calling it Subwaygate now. Subway is having a contest and the grand prize winner gets ATHLETIC EQUIPMENT FOR YOUR CHILD’S SCHOOL ($5000 VALUE) (caps and emphasis mine). They are not giving away CASH, they are giving EQUIPMENT of a specified dollar amount. And some (drama-loving, imho) parents have taken offense, shrieking discrimination because the contest specifically says “No home schools will be accepted.”

This is not discrimination, people. This is a corporation setting the rules for a giveaway. They don’t *have* to give anything – corporations reinvest funds back into the business all the time. Corporations make private donations all the time.

My children are homeschooled and I do not want $5000 worth of equipment, thankyouverymuch. We already have a corner full of toys that go untouched, why would I want to add to that? And honestly, I want to know what YOU are going to do with $5000 worth of equipment. (Unless you’re the Duggar family. Then? Totally understandable.)

Here’s an idea: instead of slamming Subway for a perceived slight why not email them and ask for a homeschool *specific* contest? Perhaps with a prize more geared to a homeschool family, such as a package of zoo/museum passes, amusement park passes (nothing like going to Disney when all the drones are in school, baby), books and manipulatives.

While you’re stewing over that idea, I want you to take a deep breath. Step away from The Drama. It’s doing nothing but raising your blood pressure and generally making you unpleasant to be around. Remember:

Offense is taken. Please practice portion control.

35 comments on Subway discriminates against homeschoolers, ohnoes!!!!!

Big, Bigger, Biggest

  • Posted on January 25, 2008 at 3:26 pm

Lorelle issued a Blog Challenge: Blog About Being Big – aka Successful. Specifically, to write about a moment when I felt “big”, or to write “what it would look like if I were big”.

When I first read her post yesterday, I was all prepared to pick and choose between conquering anxiety attacks, restarting college as an adult, being a single mom to three, writing this blog, being promoted at work, losing weight, and teaching computer skills classes. Dating again (though I daresay that hasn’t been as successful as I’d like). All perfectly good examples of “when I felt big”.

Then I went to look at apartments with The Teen ™ and got the great joy of hearing about how I need a new vehicle (I really do), she needs new clothes (what teen doesn’t?), and I need to find her a job so she can start saving up for her own car (she can find her own damn job). And how she’s going to live her life differently so she doesn’t have to live the way I do. In my daughter’s eyes, I’m a hard-done-by loser. (She wouldn’t necessarily use the word “loser” though).

After that wonderfully uplifting discussion, I got to come home and listen to My Sainted Mother. Why in the WORLD would I want to live in an apartment when I can live in her Doublewide Paradise.

(Yes, I’m serious.)

And then I felt really really small and alone. And the see-saw started. Quitting school would meet my daughter’s immediate need for a vehicle “she can be seen in” and a house “she can invite people to”. Oh, and we can’t forget “shopping at the Mall!” Quitting school is not an option; I categorically refuse to be a retail and/or pink-collar zombie again. I don’t want to live with my parents anymore, but if I moved out I would have to add regular, frequent visits to check up on them. How would we handle scheduling? We, hell. How am *I* supposed to fit all that in?

And yet, right now, I feel more BIG than I ever have before. School is challenging and wonderful, work is routine but enjoyable. The Folks ™ and I have established a mostly-functional relationship. My children are happy and healthy (shallow teen-living aside). Writing is only more difficult because I’m waiting for that whole “time to write” thing to resolve itself.

What would it look like if I were BIG? Exactly the same as it does now, only with a partner and a house with in-law quarters 1/2 acre away. Oh, and I’d be an at-home mom again.

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Randomness

  • Posted on January 23, 2008 at 3:41 pm

I’ve been working a LOT more hours (much more than I expected) since I promoted. The boys are (predictably) more clingy.

I was hoping the Sneaky Chef thing would be more of a series than it actually is. I do believe the people able to sneak this stuff past their kids are NOT parents of a supertaster. To be quite frank, the only thing he’s actually eaten a tablespoon of was the breakfast ice cream I blogged about, and the ONLY reason he kept tasting it was because I let him say “more chocolate. More sugar. It still doesn’t taste right, maybe how about more chocolate?” After that, I decided not to jack with his list of “approved” foods. The absolute last thing I need is him refusing to eat any foods at all because “it didn’t taste right that one time”.

Tomorrow I’ll be touring an apartment. I’m not thrilled with the idea of apartment living in any way, shape, or form again (I need a few hundred yards between my neighbors and me for complete comfort) but we neeeeeeeeed to move while The Folks ™ and I are still on friendly terms. And I’m gently freaked about moving (again) in general.

The semester is about to start, and I’ve been nailbiting, reviewing notecards, and trying to schedule study time around my New! Improved! work schedule.

My dating site profile is still pulled. I’m thinking it’ll stay permanently pulled. The problem with the gene pool is there’s no lifeguard.

I miss my friends in the box… I promise I’m reading!

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