Who are you, and what have you done with my real family?

I had an extraordinary day today. Though in the interest of literary license and general suspense, I'm going to tell you about it all out of order.

I got up with only a short list of things to do.

Go to church. (CHECK.)
Get a chop for dinner. (CHECK.)
Get laundry done. (CHECK.)
Go out to stores and look at possible chairs for my new soon-to-be living room. (UMMM... CHECK.)

I got up. I went to church. I talked to mom about looking at furnishings. She said we would get a chop for dinner, and then go looking at things. And the plan was to do laundry after dinner.

Well, we got the chop. And I got my laundry done after dinner, and we already established that I went to church. All this was according to plan.

After my laundry finished it's last tumbles in the dryer, I packed it up and prepared to take it home. I realized upon arriving home that I had forgotten my leftovers from dinner in the fridge. I let momma know, and she said she'd bring them by in a little bit. And when she did bring them, she informed me of an interesting exchange she had with the old geezer.

Momma: "I'm going to take those leftovers to Liz."

Old Geezer: "Oh, I just figured she'd come and get them tomorrow."

M: "Well, she could, I suppose, but I told her I'd bring them."

OG: "Why is that? She doesn't want to come over? Doesn't she like to come over here?"

M: "Oh, no, it's not that. She likes it just fine. I just told her I'd bring them... Do you like for her to come over?"

OG: "Well, yeah. I like it when she comes over. It's nice to see her!"

For those of you who stuck with me through the development of that story line, and know how I was repeatedly made to feel as though I were the ultimate burden in my time there, you were in all likelihood as surprised to read those lines as I was to hear them! When my mom told me this, I wondered if the old man had been into the bourbon again. Though it really wasn't the first time today that I had to wonder if Xenu had kidnapped my real family and replaced them with deceptively physically accurate cyborgs... Or something.

Earlier in the weekend, I decided to go and look at living room furniture, as in my new apartment, I will actually have a proper living room which will need to be furnished. I asked momma if she wanted to come along for any and all rounds of furniture perusal, as I value her opinion.

We looked on Saturday, and while we found a few pieces that went into the "maybe" column, nothing really popped. The fact that I also had little money to throw at the problem of not having furniture also gave some credence to the idea that we were LOOKING and not in fact BUYING.

Well, Sunday we ventured out to a grouping of stores, and found that they had a beautiful leather chaise. (It should be noted that I have ALWAYS - or for at least as long as I've had the desire to own any piece of furniture- wanted a chaise. I have always fancied them. I think they are very chic.)

I sat on it, and found it to be quite comfy as well as being very stylish. I balked at the $1000 price tag on it though. I moved on to look at other pieces... though in my heart, I lusted after the chaise.

Mom knows that I have a weak spot for stylish functional pieces.

Mom speaks to a manager.

Mr. Manager finds a tape measure.

Mr. Manager measures the object of my lust... As well as the dimensions of the rear of my mother's SUV.

I know that there is no chance in hell that mom is thinking of purchasing a $1000 piece of furniture for me.

Mom is a natural-born bargain hunter... She wouldn't blow a grand on a piece of furniture! That's just a FACT.

Mr. Manager and mom are in cahoots.

I won't give away the secret, but momma made little Lizzle's dream of owning a chaise come true. And for a LOT less than you'd imagine. (And no, Michael, she didn't get a "special price" by commission of any pervy sex acts in the stock room! My momma is a saint!) I think that the Xenu purchase-power cyborgs are equipped with some kind of mind-meld tactic that we simple humans are unable to escape... Poor Katie Holmes never really had a chance, and neither did Mr. Manager.

Mom, (I believe still drunk on her dealing-skill power trip) then said, don't you have a dining room too?

ARROOOO?

"Umm, yes. I do have a dining room." (I nearly choked on the words.)

"You have a dining room, and no table or chairs... You need a table and chairs."

(The wheels in my head were spinning... Damn you Xenu! I loved my momma just the way she was! You're trying to seduce me into loving this cyborg clone by buying my affections! You can't buy me Xenu! YOU CAN'T!)

"Well, pick out something that will work for you."

(Xenu... [cough, sputter] I am weakening to your buying power! )

(Jeez, now I know how Katie Holmes felt in the beginning... just before her lobotomy.)

I found a table and four chairs that worked for me.

Momma said, "RING IT UP! ...OH, and DELIVER IT! We don't want to have to fool with hauling it ourselves."

I know that I have said in recent posts that momma was the hotness... Today she was putting THE FIRES OF THE SUN to the test with her hotness. There was just no stopping her!

And even when I pulled out the old, "ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY SURE ABOUT THIS?" card, she didn't bat an eyelash.

"Yes. I'm sure. You need real furniture for your new place. And this is my way of ensuring that you will spoil me when I am old. You now have to put me in the good home."

So you see, my momma, is the awesomest.

(...And so is her cyborg clone.)

You'd think that after racking up 6 pieces of furniture I'd have been cut off. But momma still wasn't done.

Accent pillows, and an antiqued wall-hanging that reads, "HAPPY HOUR" were also in order.

My mind reels at the dizzying rate and degree to which I was spoiled this afternoon.

I know that my mom has ALWAYS been an exceedingly generous and caring soul. She has always put the wants and needs of her children above her own. I think this afternoon was just the latest display of her doing something for someone else before taking her own needs or wants into consideration.

(I also think that with the recent sale of her house, she has found a little financial freedom to make herself happy by being more able to do things for others... She really is the awesomest!)

A relatively uplifting day...

It's no secret that when you work in social services as a whole, you're dealing with the bottom 1% of the population 99% of the time.

Basically, when these people eventually have their kids taken away, it is because EVERY SINGLE other option has been exhausted due to total and utter failure. And a large portion of the time they are NOT happy to see you, and they don't want to have anything to do with working with you, or the system that you represent. Today was a little different.

I work with one client who (in the scheme of things) was doing well initially. Her drug tests had come back clean for long enough that her social worker had wrangled her a spot in a shelter that was willing to allow her to live there for up to two years to really get herself established before making her do it all on her own. They were willing to put a roof over her head, help her to save money for her future costs, they were willing to feed her, clothe her, provide her with free daycare once she got her kids back, and see that she got a full-time job that she would actually like. Basically she really had it made in comparison to most of the folks who we deal with. The only real rules she had to abide by? She had to do a daily chore, she had to keep her room clean, and she had to remain drug free.

Well, she blew it.

And since then, she has been technically homeless, sleeping on the couches on acquaintances and just kind of living moment to moment, not to mention hand to mouth.

Since that MAJOR setback, we've been working in baby steps. Getting her food from food banks, clothes from charitable clothing centers, working on appropriate child discipline by watching videos on parenting. And while those steps are worthwhile in meeting immediate needs, the fact is that they were doing little to make progress in the big picture... meaning that going to a food bank for a week's worth of food, while feeding her now, isn't something that a court looks too highly on, because she is still overly reliant on the system to support her. And so, when I met with her this morning, I went in with an agenda... but to be nice, I asked her if she had anything she wanted to work on during our session. Luckily she bought right into my plan. She wanted to look for a job. She wanted to have a real income. And so I told her, "GREAT! We're going to go and get applications from every place that you would be WILLING to work in a certain designated area." And so we went. And we got applications from something like eleven different places that were currently hiring. We even got her an interview at a telemarketing firm. And toward the end of our session, there was a small string of places that she hadn't considered. I offered them up. She said she wasn't sure. I told her, "Hey, if you don't go and ask, the answer is always 'No,' so you might as well give it a shot." And in that final string, she went in, she filled out an application, she interviewed, and she was hired on the spot.

She came out with the biggest smile, and gave me a double thumbs up. She was so excited, and I was excited for her. It might not be the most glamorous job, and it seem like such a small step, but for her is was so huge! And for that moment I was so thrilled for her. She was making an effort to get things moving in the right direction all on her own!

That was the best part of my day... And really, the best part of my week. (Maybe even longer than that.)

But then, of course, I had to move on and deal with other, less compliant clients, who are still in the less-than-thrilled to see me phase. Ones who have nothing standing in their way but their own stubbornness.

If there were some kind of medal for people who decide to be obstreperous, and stick with it, I've got a couple of clients who are totally up for medal contention on a professional level. (The Olympics are for amateurs... THESE folks are DEFINITELY PROS!)

And that drags me down a little bit.

But then I talked to my supervisor about this progress, and she noted that it really was a big deal, and that she was thrilled we were making this kind of progress with that particular client. She also noted that with the other clients, "you can lead a horse to water..."

But all in all, I'm willing to put today in the win column. I actually feel like I've gotten through to her, and I'm getting her to realize that there is a lot that she can do to help herself, she just has to TRY!

And upon completion of my work day, I celebrated by drinking a couple of bottles of wine... YAY.

We bond quickly...

I was talking to Sheree, a co-worker who started working at my office about 3 weeks after I started, and she said something that amused me immensely.

Every week we have a staff meeting on Tuesday morning. We usually wrap up the meeting around 11:30, and most of us try to set up our schedules so that several of us go to lunch together. The lunches are always HIGHLY entertaining. We exchange horror stories about our cases, we rip on each other, we enjoy each other's company, and of course we have a lovely meal.

While on the way to our weekly lunch, I was talking to Sheree, she mentioned that her husband was saying that he missed her since she was now working a lot of odd hours, and that he didn't ever get to see her anymore. She said that he jokingly said he was considering leaving her because she was never around anymore. She informed me that her reply was "Eh, go ahead. I enjoy spending time with all my new friends anyway."

I was amused. The irony of breaking up a marriage while reuiniting families was not lost on me. But hey, at least we all feel like a part of a family at the office... We're a little dysfunctional and occassionally crude, but dammit we're fun.

God bless my mother...

I was talking to my mom this evening, and she informed me of something that I found quite delightful!

She informed me that in my upcoming move she will be hiring movers to relocate all of my crap.

"What? How much is that going to cost you?"

"It doesn't matter. You've done it enough. I don't think you should have to do it again, so I'm getting someone else to do it!"

"Really? You're going to hire people to move the crap I've already moved like 6 times? I mean I know I can do it. It will suck like always, but I can do it."

"Nope. You're not going to have to do it. If I hire guys to get it in the door at your new place, you can set it up, right?"

"Well yeah. I've done that every time I've moved too... I've just always done it IN ADDITION to moving it myself."

"Well, now you don't have to move it, you just have to set it up."

"Wow! Thanks momma!"

"Don't mention it, I know a guy. He owes me a favor... Actually, he owes me a FEW favors."

So basically, my mom is the hotness... At the end of the conversation she sounded like a member of the Corleone family, but I'm not going to argue with her either way.

In other news, my office recently received the paperwork on a DCS (department of child services, for those of you not in the know) case that was recently billed on the local news as "The worst case of abuse or neglect ever seen by local officials."

To work in the trenches like my coworkers and I do, it's utterly terrifying to hear someone say, "We just got the call on that case..."

"Which case?"

"The one that DCS called the worst ever seen locally."

"Oh... ...Shit... Who got it?"

"Um, the new guy."

"They assigned the 'worst case ever' to the new guy? ARE YOU SERIOUS? We're going to scare the bejesus out of him! He'll quit before he gets his first check!"

"Nah, he's already gotten his first check... But in addition to that paycheck, he's also got availability. So he got it."

"Jesus! ...What's the name on that case again?"

"XXXXXXXX"

"Ok, mental note to self, don't EVER volunteer to cover that case!"

"No kidding."


Though, I will say that my first caseload was regarded as nightmarish by many veteran workers, (including one worker who has been doing my job for EIGHT YEARS who handled ONE of my visits and instantly said that she would NEVER do a visit on that case EVER again,) and although I have good days and bad, and I have days when I would much rather just ignore every phone call I get, and not deal with my clients, all in all I am glad now that I got the cases I got right off the bat. Some people might think I'm absolutely insane for saying that, but I think that there is something to the whole "trial by fire" thing. And that's why people in my office who have been doing my job for years look at me as a fellow veteran among them.

Yeah, they love me over there.

Basically, I think the new people having availability to do the new nasty cases that come in affords the office a chance to test your skills straight out of the gate and know very quickly whether or not you can take the heat. It's interesting to say the least.

HOLY CRAP!

It's been a week since I updated here?

REALLY?

Jeez! I'm sorry! I've neglected the few of you who actually give a crap about what goes on here.

To be perfectly honest, I have been very busy, though with nothing of any particular interest. In the last couple of weeks, every waking moment not spent working has been spent trying to find a reasonably priced, decent apartment. I've been supervising visits, and visiting apartment complexes pretty much 18 hours a day. And after all of that, quite frankly I was tired. And I didn't think it would be of particular interest to you, so I spared you really.

Long story short, I found out that there are apartment complexes around here that are just utterly ridiculous! Here are some highlights:

One complex, while demanding roughly a third of my gross monthly salary for rent (not including utilities) determined that I actually made too much to live there. Seriously! I made too much to live there, but they wanted 1/3 of what I do make to be spent on rent. So I said to the woman who was showing me the apartment, "Wait, you want $XXX.xx for rent every month, but because I make $XXXX.xx a month I make too much to live here? How does that work exactly?"

Her response surprised me. She said, "Well, we're a tax abatement program."

"So... What, you're like nicer looking section 8 housing?"

"Well, no."

"Well based on what you're telling me, you expect people to move in here, and spend like HALF of everything they have coming in just to have the privilege of saying that they live here, and that you don't even include utilities for half of a person's gross income... You're telling me that you're a tax abatement program, so here's the question, is there some kind of incentive for people to live here? Your residents don't OWN the unit, so who is actually benefiting from the tax abatement?"

"Well... Uhhh...."

"Basically, you're advertising to your residents that you're robbing them blind by overcharging on rent, and that you get to write off your profits and that they won't reap any real benefits?"

"Well... Uhhh... Um... Have I mentioned that we have a pool?"

"Have I mentioned that I make too much to live here, and that I'm not an idiot, so you need to stop trying to sell me on this place?"

Basically I totally shut down her game. We parted ways shortly after that. I just wanted that woman to know that she didn't have me fooled.

I talked to several of my co-workers, and ended up finding a really nice apartment complex that is a little out of the way, where I will never have to worry about running into any of my clients, (because that was a concern with a few of the complexes I toured). I submitted paperwork to apply for a place there today, and pending approval of my application (which basically consists of them finding out that I have some cash in the bank and no felonies on my record) I will be moving into a lovely new apartment with a washer & dryer in the unit, a dishwasher, delightful balcony, and a view of the tennis courts in just a couple of weeks! And I'm genuinely hoping that this will be the last move I have to make until I make my way back to Chicago.

In other apartment complexes, I found that people seem to think that it makes more sense to pay huge sums of money to a leasing agency on a monthly basis for an apartment that they will not own, rather than paying somewhat less to a bank for a whole HOUSE that they WILL own. I mean I understand why some people opt for apartments, but after seeing some of the rates that these places are charging, and seeing that they are pretty much totally rented out, I just gotta say WOW! People are nuts!

Before some random person attacks my last statement, I'm electing to rent because my finances are still in recovery, and because I don't plan on living in this neck of the woods long enough to commit to buying a house. And I'm not directly attacking anyone who elects to rent, because I'm sure they have their reasons too, but I just want it known that I think there are a bunch of people out there who are insane for paying the rates they pay around here, SO THERE!

In other news, I was tempted to entitle this post, "My mom said she thinks your mom is a bitch! (And by 'your mom' I mean mother earth.)" The reason for that? My mom spent earth day signing papers to seal the deal on her new SUV. I found that totally hilarious.

The only other tidbit I have for you is that I bought a few more acres in hell today. I was talking to a coworker of mine, and she made a smart ass remark. I retorted by saying, "You know, if you weren't pregnant, I would totally punch you in the mouth!"

Yes, that's right, I threatened to punch a pregnant coworker! Sweet little eight pound, six ounce baby Jesus, forgive me!

Touched...

There have been countless memorials and articles constructed surrounding the shooting at VT already.

I am reluctant to say anything on the subject, in part because I feel like whatever I might say on the subject would fall so grossly short of doing any kind of justice to anyone who was personally impacted by this senseless act of violence. But I'm going to say something because in a tangential way, it hit home for me as well.

As I have previously mentioned, I have a cousin who attends Virginia Tech. And while he was lucky enough to avoid physical harm, the fact is that 23 students were harmed, and 32 students and members of the faculty paid the ultimate price in Monday's tragic events. (I don't count the gunman among the dead, because I don't feel that he deserves to be placed among the innocents. Though I acknowledge that even his death had an impact on those who knew him.)

The main reason I was compelled to issue this missive is because I was shocked that something like this COULD and DID touch someone I love. And I think it's important to not only recognize the victims themselves, but also the people who are left to mourn them.

A secondary reason I felt that something must be said is that I am disgusted by the way most news outlets have been covering this story.

I understand that many people have a morbid curiosity to peer into the mind of the assailant. They want to know more about the who and the why. I know that that's what draws in a great deal of readership. But I feel like that kind of article presents the wrong kind of focus. It talks of the "largest massacre" to date. It names the killer, and presents possible motives. It shows other ill-minded people that if they dish out enough horror, THEY will be the focus of the notoriety. It also shows them that the bar has been set by this person, and that since this person has the record, they surpass all others who preceded them. It is basically an invitation to escalate the violence. It invites people with bad intentions to go above and beyond those who came before so that they can be the one who tops the list, and so it's their name that will be remembered. It's a slippery slope, and I fear that we haven't seen the worst yet.

I think it's more important to make articles about the victims the focus of our attention. They did nothing wrong, and they were the ones we lost. Their possible impact on the world is lost forever. Their stories are so often forgotten. I think it's more important to place the focus somewhere other than on the perpetrator.

I won't ramble on anymore, because as I said before, I don't feel like anything I could say would do any justice to the horror of the situation, or to honor those lost.

Another move...

Well, for those of you who don't already know, my mom finally got a good offer on her house.

Since this is where I'm currently residing, this means I will have to move AGAIN.

And so, after getting an oil change and getting my brakes checked during the tire rotation, I went apartment hunting.

I've found a few reasonable options, and I'm really hoping to be done with all of my moving nonsense for a good long while within the next month. (I'm not looking forward to moving YET AGAIN, but since this will be the last time for the foreseeable future, I'm looking forward to being done with it.)

While speaking with the leasing agent at the best prospect, we engaged in the following conversation with another leasing agent in the complex...

Leasing agent 1: When were you hoping to move in?

Liz: May 15th, or a couple days before.

Leasing agent 2: Oh... I don't know that we'll have anything ready until the 18th. Do you HAVE to move on the 15th?

Liz: Well they want possession at closing, and they plan to close on the 15th.

Leasing agent 1: What can we do?

Leasing agent 2: Well, we could let her live in the model for a few days until her apartment is ready. We're not going to let her be homeless.

Liz: Well, I appreciate that you're trying to accommodate me and all, but I personally think it would kind of suck to move all of my crap into one apartment, only to have to move it to another apartment 20 yards away three days later... You guys going to help me move?

Leasing agent 2: Uhh... Well, no. I don't guess that would be too much fun would it?

Leasing agent 1: I guess we'll have to have that apartment ready by the 11th.

Leasing agent 2: Hmm... well, I don't know what we're going to do! We'll figure something out.

Knowing my luck, I can only imagine the debacle that will ensue... Have no fear, it will undoubtedly be chronicled for you to read and enjoy.

============================

In other news, my cousin who is a student at Virginia Tech was not harmed in the latest round of nonsensical violence. I spoke with him at about 11 AM, and he said that he was not on campus at the time of the incident. I am glad that he is safe, and my heart goes out to those who were not so lucky.

============================

And in one last unrelated news blip, I have signed up to play softball for my company's team. We plan to be in the same league as the team from the department of child services, so I can only imagine the inappropriate jokes which will ensue... And so that about wraps it up for the Lizzle. (Boring, I know.)

Oh, and for those of you who don't already know here's a quick recap of my most loyal readers, Marcia can't sleep, Debbie finally got properly laid, Holly is excited about adopting, and Kelly is still miserable and continues to fall apart. (In summation, that sucks, that's awesome, that's spectacular, and I really wish there was something I could do to help!)

My nephew, the next notorious serial killer... and other things

I went to breakfast with my sister this morning. While sitting at the table, enjoying my pancakes, I look up in time to see my youngest nephew, Cody (age 2) stab an old woman walking by with a fork.

There was never any indicator that he was going to do this, he was just holding his fork, enjoying his own breakfast, and right as she passed by, BAM, he turned it on her! The old woman thought it was cute. And of course he giggled like it was HILARIOUS... My sister and I saw something far more sinister! Before you know it he's going to be tormenting neighborhood animals, and from there it's only a few short steps to him becoming a giggling birthday clown who is having his basement excavated by the feds because that was where he disposed of his victims, a la John Wayne Gacy.

If it doesn't turn out that way, then great! But if it does, I want it noted that I SOOOOOO called it!

In other news, yesterday was another sister's birthday. I called her, and in all likelihood, I will be travelling down to her KIM-stravaganza this weekend.

I have little else to report at the moment... And so I will pull a Lozo, and in lieu of text, I will provide you with an entertaining video.



And after watching this, there should really be no doubt as to why Lindsay Lohan is currently in Japan... Clearly they have some good stuff there!

The snippet post, (take 2)

Despite the fact that the response to the last snippet post was somewhat less than overwhelming, but I really enjoyed writing it... So much so, that I think I'll do another one.

In case you are not familiar with the snippet concept, here's a recap, cut-and-pasted directly from yesterday's post: "The idea is that you write little snippets of whatever length to whomever you wish, but you don't assign names to any of it... People can try and figure out if they are among the snippets, but I like the anonymity aspect."

Round 2 of the snippets... HERE WE GO!

• There were things said and done between us that might have seemed regrettable to some, but I wouldn't take any of that back. My only regret is not saying or doing more.
• I find you a little bit creepy. And you're not NEARLY as funny as you think you are.
• You, on the other hand, are hilarious. And based on your level of self-deprecation, I don't think you even really know how funny you are.
• I was not shocked by your "coming out." I was shocked at the lengths you went to conceal the truth from everyone... Even those of us who you said you didn't fear judgement from. I love you just the same.
• I miss the old you. The one who was unafraid to publicly roll on the ground with laughter. The one who would run through the halls screaming just for fun. The one who would happily frolic in a fountain without any concern for consequences. Where did she go?
• You aren't better than me. You think you're smarter, but you lack the common sense. You think can handle yourself, but you were an embarrassment more often than not. And you are not nearly as tough as you would like to think. I don't think I'm better than you, but I do think you need to get off that fucking high horse.
  
• I'll admit to being an insensitive asshole, if you admit to being overly reactionary.
• I'd have done a lot more, and enjoyed it, but you dragged me away. I resented that for a long time... Now I'm actually thankful.
• I hope someday you actually find the happiness you profess. But if you ask me, that can't possibly happen until you're honest with yourself.
• I think you still look at me as the one that got away. I used to see you that way too...
  
• I will always be indebted to you for giving me a chance. I hope I didn't let you down.
• I miss our conversations.
  
• I think you both always knew you were just spinning your wheels... But neither one of you wanted to be alone.
• Even if you did have a girlfriend, and it wouldn't have done any good, I regret not telling you that I had a crush on you.
• I think you told lies about me, because you were afraid that if you didn't say something everyone would have recognized you for the bore you really are.
• It's not nearly as exciting as you think.
• I watched her put bugs in your hair in the 5th grade. I'm sorry I didn't say anything.
• Your coffee cup was never as clean as you thought it was.
• I laughed. I shouldn't have, but I did.
• I still feel like you chose the easy way out... And I hope it haunts you.
• Your dress looked like it belonged on a tranny hooker... But you loved it, and you felt beautiful in it... It showed.
• You told me not to go. I told you I didn't. I lied. I went, and had an AWESOME guilt-free time!
• I wasn't sorry for being honest.
  
• I think you should be ashamed of yourself. Your manipulations did not go unnoticed.
• I know why you didn't, but I'm telling you, you should have come to the beach.
• It's liberating. You should try it.
• There is not always room for Jello.
• Once. In eighth grade. And never again.
• I couldn't do that because I didn't want to be the reason that someone else got hurt.
• I still kind of regret not REALLY telling you off.
  
• You were admirable because you acted with such reckless abandon. And I hoped to one day be so free. Thanks for making me see that in myself.
  

I think that's all for round two.

Something a little different...

I saw someone else do this a long time ago... I made a mental note to try it out sometime.

The idea is that you write little snippets of whatever length to whomever you wish, but you don't assign names to any of it... People can try and figure out if they are among the snippets, but I like the anonymity aspect.

• I don't know why you won't talk to me anymore... But I still want my books back, I loaned you some of my favorites, and I don't want to have to buy new copies. I want the copies that I made notes in.
• I knew long before I ever let on. It's ok. I'd have kept your secret forever.
  
• I was shocked when you told me that you were hurting yourself on purpose. I never told anyone, but only because I talked you into getting some help. If talking to you hadn't done any good, I would have spilled the beans, because I love you too much.
• I was PISSED when you didn't ask me to be in your wedding but still expected me to help... In fact, I'm pissed that you only ever call me when you want something. I don't think you've figured out that that's why I don't answer your phone calls. I often wonder how long it will take you to figure it out.
  
• Thank you for being there. There were days when just having a coffee and a chat with you was enough to sustain me for a little while longer. Your time and your candor meant more than you possibly imagine.
• Drinking 40s with you on the porch was ghetto, but I knew it was one of your "goals in life." I was more than happy to do my part to make that dream come true.
• Yeah, I used your toothbrush to scrub the toilet bowl and didn't tell you. You deserved it.
• I told you that the nightmares had stopped long ago. They haven't.
  
• I might not be a licensed clinical psychiatrist, but I KNOW that you need some serious mental help. And I also know that you are totally in denial about why people don't want to be around you... Here's a hint: YOU'RE FUCKED IN THE HEAD!
• I don't think you love them. I think you do it for the money and the control.
• You make a purring noise when you talk sometimes... It's not cute. It makes me want to punch you in the face.
• You used to call me and bitch about your life for hours. That's fine and all... but you never let me get a word in edgewise. Here's a tip: It's called DIALOGUE because there are supposed to be two people talking. That's probably why I felt totally ok with sitting the phone down for a while so that I could go and take a dump. I'd come back like 10-15 minutes later and you were still babbling. You never missed a beat.
• I know that there are things you don't like about me. I revel in those aspects of myself just to spite you.
• I'm so glad to know that you are happy... Even if I can't share it with you.
• I hope that before you die you realize what you've done to the people who loved you... And I hope you realize that they all continued to love you in spite of your shortcomings as a person.
• I think you lied about all of it. And until I see some form of medical proof, I won't believe any of it.
• You have the face of a rodent. I always wanted to tell you, but I think you already knew. I hope your offspring is more fortunate than you.
  
• I knew it wouldn't last. But I didn't say a word because I already knew that you wouldn't have listened.
• He looked back one more time. You didn't see it, but I did.
  
• You have no taste. Stop deluding yourself.
• It really was the best vacation ever. I'm glad you were there.
• You could have done so much better... Why you wasted so much time with that one, I'll never know.
• I'm jealous of everything you have. But I don't begrudge you anything!
• It didn't go down quite the way I told you.
  
• I never understood why you did the things you did. I hope you realize now just how much you hurt everyone who loved you. We are still waiting for an apology. I don't think that it will ever come.
• We all knew then. We all know now. Stop lying about it. It's gotten ridiculous.
• I liked listening to you sing... I just wished you would have picked a different song every once in a while.
• Your shoes were ugly. I know you loved them, but you looked like a fool.
• I resent you for underestimating my intelligence. I find it insulting that you think just because you're older, you're wiser. You're not... I don't know much, but I do know that.
• Yeah, he made a pass at me. I was 14. It was creepy and gross then, and it's creepy and gross now.
• I know you've given up hope, but I still hope that you will find happiness. All is not lost.
• What did I know? I was 10. I'm glad you forgave me!
  
• I'm sorry I rejected you. If I could take it back, I would. I should have danced with you all night.
• I'm glad we are talking again. I only wish we could get back those lost months.
• I love you more than you will ever know. I've tried to tell you, but I don't think you really get it.
• It makes a difference to me. I want to see you succeed. I want to cheer for you.
• Oh, that movie sucked. The acting was horrible, and just about aspect of it was cliche, but you loved it, so I faked that enthusiasm.
• I wish you would call more.
• I wish you would call more, too.
• I wish you would STOP calling me.
• I only hope that someday the rest of the world will see you the way that I see you.
  
• You are a stronger person than I could ever aspire to be. You deserve so much more credit for everything you do.
• I lied. I do still have your sweatshirt. I love it, I wear it frequently, and you're never going to get it back. EVER.
• I am still your friend, and I try hard not to, but sometimes I do judge you because I think he deserves better.
• If you throw enough popcorn, you're bound to get one in sooner or later.

I think that about does it for this session.

Monthly reports wiped me the hell out!

In my letter to my job, you all read that I had monthly reports due this week... They were due by Thursday at noon. But of course, I didn't have a solid due date for them until late Tuesday. And so I worked on them. And I worked on them... And when I figured I was almost done, and could go to bed and wrap them up the next morning, I found, much to my dismay that my body would not allow me to sleep until the beast had been totally slain, rather than merely severly debilitated. (Don't you hate it when you can't sleep despite exhaustion, because you know you've still got something to finish up?)

So I was up until 2 finishing the monthly reports. And then I was up at 6 to get other things accomplished so that the rest of my week would not make me want to tear my hair out. Well, I still wanted to tear my hair out, but only because nobody else was cooperating to make my life any easier.

And then I worked a 12 hour day... And my dad came into town and wanted to grab a drink with my brother and I. Well, my brother didn't get off of work until 11:15, so I was responsible for keeping up my end of the conversation until he arrived. And once he showed up, well I just HAD to have one round with my brother... and then the waitress mistakenly thought I ordered another and brought it to the table...

I got home at 12:45.

I went STRAIGHT. TO. BED.

I woke up at 9:17.

(12:45 to 9:17 doesn't sound all that bad, but let's keep in mind the sleep debt that I'm working with at this point.)

I wigged out because my alarm was supposed to go off at 9 and didn't. (I had to start working at 9:30 SHARP...) CRAP.

Typical really.

I went to work, worked all day, and had every intention of going over to see my aunt and uncle who are in town for Easter weekend... But I was pooped. When I wrapped up my day, I thought, "Oh, I'll just lay down for an hour... I'll get over to see the fam at about 6:30, spend a few hours with them, and then come home and go to bed.

And then one hour turned into seven.

And I didn't make it over to see the fam.

I'll have to spend a large part of my Sunday doing paperwork that managed to get away from me this week whilst I was tackling my monthly reports... Fun, I know! Monday will be spent getting schedules together to arrange for my weekly appointments, trying to get my house in order, because at the moment, I'm still living out of boxes and bags, and the all important laundry. And then Tuesday, it's up at the ass crack of dawn to do it all over again for another week! You may feel free to display your envy.

But at least I'm getting out there, right?

An open letter...

To my job:

Dear Job,

I like you a lot. To be honest, I think it borders on love. You have introduced me to a myriad of fabulous people, and provide me with countless pages of material for my eventual memoir... But since we're on the subject of "countless pages" I would like to issue a formal complaint.

I spend entirely too much of my time doing paperwork for you. I document my hours every day. I document my days every week, and now you expect me to do a monthly report too? I give and I give and I give... I try to be understanding to your needs, but seriously, after documenting everything all week long, isn't there enough material for someone else to read and get the gist of what's going on? Why must you make me do monthlies? They make my eyes bleed! They make me want to hurt people. They do not make me feel good inside. They make me a very grumpy and unlikable person.

I know that in relationships you should not want to force a change in the other party. I know this is something that's important to you, and I know I can't change this about you. I am accepting of this fact. But I want you to know that I'm not happy with it. I want you to know that this part of you makes me angry, frustrated, and upset. I feel it's only fair to advise you of this considering how close we've grown in this short time together.

I hope you're not mad at me. I just want us to be honest with each other.

I'll see you tomorrow!

Love,

Lizzle

Sleeping in never felt so good...

After a two month hiatus from MY bed, and all the trappings it entails, I finally slept in my own bed. And it was SPECTACULAR.

Since it was my day off, I woke up at noon (without being made to feel guilty by the geezer who gets up at 5 and then spends his whole day periodically snoozing on the couch). And waking up in your own bed at noon with no guilt is something that should be counted among one of the wonders of the world.

I then proceeded to reassemble my entertainment center, and move it about the room until it found it's proper place. I then put some clothes away, set up my kitchen, and went to get all the necessary items to fully stock my fridge for the foreseeable future. I then had every intention of watching the game, but I knew how it was going to end before it ever began, and I wasn't happy about the predicted outcome, so I skipped it.

My fabulous bed is calling my name very loudly at the moment, if only because I know I will have to leave it all too early to go to the weekly staff meeting...

Farewell, eggs!

Be good, and I will catch you all on the flip side!

But I don't even LIKE Billy Joel!

Back in my bar tending days, I worked private parties, and I worked at a bar that was infamous for having karaoke 5 nights a week... I didn't work there very long, but in that short time, I'll tell you, I got sick and tired of hearing BAD singers select Billy Joel songs to cover... As a result, I don't like Billy Joel... And I really don't like Bon Jovi... But Bon Jovi is a whole other can of worms.

But today I was thinking, and I was reminded of the immortal words of Billy Joel.

Billy once wrote:

"If that's what it's all about
If that's movin' up then I'm movin' out."

And that's exactly what I did.

I got sick of playing politics at home. I got tired of walking on eggshells to prevent some nuclear meltdown on the order of Chernobyl just because I didn't eat toast with my breakfast, or I drank a whole bottle of wine in the course of one evening. I'm old enough to do what I want, and I know what I need to do, and how to do it. I lived on my own for 6 years in a city of 5 million people, and for the most part, I knew what the hell I was doing, and how to function on a daily basis. (I'm taking a mulligan on those last few months...) Basically, I didn't feel like having an irrational 86 year old with questionable personal hygiene lording over me, interrogating me about my every move. HOMEY DON'T PLAY THAT!

And so I took my cue from ol' Billy. And I got the hell out.

I spent my Sunday evening gathering up the few things that I had taken to my temporary residence, and packed them into the back seat of the car, and drove my happy ass over to the empty house that was my childhood home. It's still on the market, and so, instead of giving grandpa any reason to bitch and moan, or feel "put out" only to then vent his resentments to my mother so that his point was made passive-aggressively, I left. I thus took the fuel from the fire.

He can grumble all he wants now. I'm not listening to it. I'm not there. I'm not going to be around to in any way irritate him, and more importantly, I'm not going to be around to listen to his bullshit.

(This post is my passive aggression... The difference is, I don't expect anything to come of it. I say these things only to vent my personal frustrations, and to entertain you fine folks for a few minutes, not as a means to any kind of change or end.)

But most of Monday will be occupied setting up housekeeping in my new-old home... The highlight of which will most likely come on Tuesday when I am finally able to make my own coffee which will have NO GROUNDS in the bottom of the mug... Oh, and then there's the whole getting-to-sleep-in-my-famously-fabulous-bed again. The bed at the last place left something to be desired, but it was rent-free, so I wasn't going to complain.

But let's face facts here, the skid marks... those were sooooo deserving of a complaint. But instead of complaining to the responsible party and then still suffering through (because he'd have insisted that it wasn't his fault, because nothing is EVER his fault), and being forced to do the "nasty toilet hover" in my own residence, I just moved to where I knew the toilet was safe, and where I know for a fact that if there is any dookie anywhere, it will be IN the toilet, it will be 100% flushable, and it will be mine.

I hate to be a kill-joy, but I need to go and get some things set up if I want to get to bed before the sun comes up... I'll check in again later.

Until then, be good eggs!