Archive for June, 2009

This post will be random bits of decisions and thoughts I’ve made/had over the past few days….

1. I’m not flying anymore.  Is it just me or have there been a whole bunch of unexplained plane crashes?  I mean 2 DIFFERENT pilots die in midflight and have to be piloted by a passenger, Air France lost over 600 innocent passengers in its unexplained crash and today I login to my Yahoo to see a headline that reads 5-year-old survives jet crash. Yeah  – I think I’ll drive. OH and if I have to leave the country for a reason I’d rather not mention here then I’ll just take a boat.  Besides, I’m thinking that the FBI would check planes first anyway – it’s the obvious means of escape from the US. Just saying…

Meds Pictures, Images and Photos2. I think my anti-depressants are now unnecessary.  I haven’t take them in close to a week now and haven’t really noticed a difference. So either my Doc was giving me a placebo as some weird clinical trial he didn’t tell me about or they weren’t really making much of a difference other than making me a touch-me-not around my J (it’s a known fact that anti-depressants decrease sex drive).  So I’m thinking that if that’s the case I’d totally rather be crazy and want to have sex than the alternative. Yep, I’m off the meds – or well the ones for depression anyway.

3. My job sucks.  My “boss” told me that my evaluation is going to be on Wednesday.  Then he told me to turn in a self review by EOB today (Tuesday). I’m pretty sure that he plans to use my self-review as my evaluation so he doesn’t have to use what little brain he has to think of something to write down.  I am thinking this is probably because he does nothing (i.e. manage me) and has no idea what I do on a daily basis and in actuality probably doesn’t really care. I mean I could be making Anthrax over here and he would have no idea. I’m not though…so don’t be dialing up Homeland Security or anything cause that was totally just a joke.

*sigh* So as usual I have to do everything around here – including my own employee evaluation.  On the bright side I can write a kick ass review of myself and he probably won’t even read it before he turns it in.  I thought maybe under Areas of Achievement I could write : Maintains workload with above standard efficiency as well as handling all of bosses work without the benefits or recognition. Although on the off chance he does bother to read it first I would probably get fired.  Damn…

4. I’m going to marry J. I mean eventually I’m going to marry him.  Yesterday I came home and he had watered the My J at chilisflowers I have by my steps that I let die (which he put in for me), unstopped the shower in the master bathroom (I think I’m going bald), knocked down the wasps nests on my porch (I’m allergic to wasps) AND had installed a new super nice faucet in the kitchen WITH the little sprayer (because I kept complaining about my sprayer being leaky)! Sorry ladies he’s taken.  I mean that’s not the only reason but I won’t bore you with all the mushy love stuff because I could so go on for days…so bottom line he’s my future husband. I mean I hope, it’s kind of up to him.  But if he doesn’t ask in the next year I’m going to take a page from my Mom’s playbook and drop down to one knee with a baseball (I mean cause guys don’t wear engagement rings and he likes baseball).

5. I’m not eating pretzels anymore. That’s it.

End thought: Note to self: PROOF READ – that’s all that needs to be said here.


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I am going to scream. Maybe my skin is easily crawled based on the fact that I haven’t taken my anti-depression meds in a week. Hmm…but I think I’m having homicidal thoughts about my boss. I hate him. He is always telling me one thing and then yelling at me for doing it when he changes his mind and FORGETS to tell me. Never mind that his yelling is overheard by OUR boss who also happens to be C.O.O. (Chief Operating Officer) of the company.  So of course he tries to make me look stupid and of course he fails – because I’m not stupid and I’m totally not afraid to call him out for his lack of leadership skills.

So my review is tomorrow (YIPPEE) that could make or break me and I just made him look like a total douche in front on the C.O.O. But in my defense – he totally asked for it. I mean I am one of like 3 women in this office and I am SICK. TO. DEATH. of being treated like I’m stupid because I don’t have a penis.


Naturally I want to reply by hurling a stapler through the little window that leads into his office and just hoping it hits him in his temple. At least then I would have a few moments of peace before he regains consciousness enough to fire me. Alas,  I would hate to be fired for throwing office supplies – instead I think I would prefer to be fired for something that would be legendary.  Like for instance – ramming my car into his 3 times too small 1999 POS Civic (which he keeps parked under his office window so he can keep and eye on it – right cause someone is going to steal a 99 civic that has been ridden harder than a prostitute in a UK Brothel) repeatedly while flipping him the bird and screaming “I DON’T HAVE A PENIS AND I STILL HAVE A BRAIN”….yes THAT would totally be worth getting fired for.  Sigh – damn the economy for putting me in this corner – Fall 2010 better yield an acceptance letter to CCTech or I will go INSANE.

End thought: “The world is divided into people who do things–and people who get the credit.” – Dwight Morrow

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The Jerk visited for Father’s day weekend, Saturday while I was bound for Alabama taking home the little Sis, he came. My mom was there with my Peanut – at my house where visitation is supposed to take place – and oversaw the visitation. She said it went well, that he was nice, that he cried when Peanut said “dada”…Whatever was my reply. I don’t have sympathy for him, why should I? Just because he’s realized he’s a jerk and now a year later decides he wants to be a part of the Peanut’s life (for now anyway) I am supposed to cater to his sudden case of conscious??

I don’t think so.

I figured – ok – it’s not the first time he’s done a 180 and it undoubtedly won’t be the last. My walls are standing strong and my new I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude is firmly intact. I’m cold and callous – he can’t get to me. He used to be able to break down my walls only because they were paper thin out of sheer anxiety and fear of retaliation if I didn’t relent; but now I’m not afraid anymore. Now I have love and support from my family and my J.

So as usual, just in time for my new attitude of insensitivity – I get a random text.

“Just wanted you to know I’m in jail.”

It’s the Jerk. I stared at it blankly – if this were any other time I would have balled my eyes out feeling guilty. Oh no, not this time.

“Well it wasn’t me”

I replied – knowing I hadn’t received a letter saying that we had court. It was his other disgruntled baby momma – with which he has 2 children (ages 3 and 6) that he visits on a regular basis – that jailed him this time. This would be the SAME baby momma that called my cell phone as I’m sporting a ring on my left hand and a newly developing fetus courtesy of The Jerk several months into our relationship (aka HELL ON EARTH), to inform me that I’ve been living with her husband and that she is JUST NOW filing for divorce. UM, EXCUSE ME???? Yeah that’s a totally different story though so I’ll delve more into that later.

Moving on….The Jerk replies:

I know, just wanted you to know I was in here.”

Why? As if I am supposed to care? Well I don’t care – I don’t care that he’s in jail, I don’t care if he gets out, I don’t care if gets butt humped by his cellmate in his sleep I. DON’T. CARE.  I can’t care. I just flat out can’t. I don’t have the ability anymore.

Thus I’m writing this as an epiphany because I’ve decided to take the advice of the strong women I’ve on PNN and Twitter and let it go. It’s such an uplifting feeling, I feel freed of chains I’ve carried since I met the Jerk that regretted summer day 2 years ago. So in the midst of my F***-THAT-JERK-I- FEEL-AWESOME high I get this text:

“I still love you.”

* * * * * * * * * * *<—-that is silence – stunned, paralyzed, unrelenting silence. You have got to be kidding me. I mean SERIOUSLY?!?

Honestly, it pissed me off for a second. HOW DARE YOU EVEN TRY THAT SHIT WITH ME YOU SORRY WASTE OF OXYGEN!!! But then I took the advice of my girls and took a deep breath and then I laughed until I cried. I laughed the longest jovial laugh I had within my body and then I laughed some more. I didn’t even bother to reply to the incompetent fool.

I don’t care and I certainly DO NOT love him, hell I don’t even like him and it takes all the effort I have to tolerate him. I never did really love him now that I think about it I mean I THOUGHT I loved the guy he pretended to be. That fabrication that he created without an ounce of remorse. The real him is a complete stranger to me.  Therefore I just don’t care, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

I realized today that it’s over – that jackass doesn’t have a hold on me even though I have a son that shares in some of his genetics that doesn’t give him the right to make my life miserable forever and I control how he affects me. I have a great life now;  me, the Peanut, My J and little B – we are happy and no one can touch that. Especially not the Jerk.
End thought: “Through weakness I found friends, but it is through friends that I found strength.” -Me

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I remember a time as a child when I would go to the grocery store with my great- grandmother.  It was a local store known as the Camden Food Shop, locally owned and locally operated.  I remember the warm greeting you got when you walked into the door – a smile and a handshake by the manager.  The young men stocking the shelves were always so eager to help the elderly reach the items on the top shelf, the produce hemmed and hawed over till it shined in it’s proper placement.  The price was a little more than our Super Walmart down the road, but it was worth it, even to me as a child.  The cashiers were friendly and engaging, the boy bagging the groceries polite and courteous as he helped us to the car.  I would watch as my Gaga would slip a few coins into his hand and receive an enthusiastic ‘Thank you ma’am’ in return.   What happened to those days?

My last trip to Walmart resulted in a complete loss of faith in Customer Service.  First in an attempt to maneuver my cart through the isle littered with boxes of items being stocked, the Walmart employee stocking the shelves shot me a glare and rolled his eyes.  Then, I tried to catch the attention of an employee who seemed to just be socializing with a fellow employee so I approached them and said “Pardon me, but could you tell me where I could find the carpet cleaner?” (It wasn’t with the mops and it wasn’t with the vacuums) I was met with large ghastly sighs and a finger pointed in the general direction of housewares.  Excuse me for asking you to actually work. The final straw that day took place at the register. I had coupons and the cashier didn’t know how to use them.  Not only did she blame me for not knowing how to ring up the coupons (I’m sorry isn’t that your job??) but she proceeded to tell me it was “too busy” for me to be using  coupons and then apologized to the man behind me for having to deal with me.

Oh no she did not! Of course I told her that if she felt the need to apologize to other customers it should be for her lack of ability to do her job, not for me bringing in some coupons.

Needless to say there was an – um – disturbance in the local Walmart that day.  What’s worse?, the Customer Service Manager didn’t even bother to apologize when I complained about how I was treated!  It was then that it occurred to me, they don’t care because they don’t have to.  Why is it that consumers have grown so accustomed to this treatment that we just look the other way? As if Walmart were doing us some favor by being open? I’m sorry but aren’t we the customers? Do we not make or break their business model?? Obviously this is something they’ve forgotten.

It’s not limited to retail stores alone. In fact, I’m not sure which is worse, retail or fast food restaurants?  Now I can understand you’re working for minimum wage in a hair net and it’s less than fulfilling.  You make french fries all day and deal with the filth of society, fine I get it, but if you don’t like you’re circumstances…only you can change them. Rolling your eyes when I ask for extra pickles or a clean food tray is not going to make it better. Oh and yes I get your sarcasm when you say ‘would you like to try a hot apple pie with that‘ but I’m still not laughing.  I don’t feel sorry for you, just because you hate your job does not give you free reign to mistreat the public.  How many times have I gotten half of my order or the wrong drink and just shrugged it off and gone about my business? Never mind I work my thankless job 40 hours a week and earned that money without making my customers miserable in the process. What has happened to Customer Service?

Have we all just gotten so accustomed to dealing with poor service that we are ok with inadequate standards? According to White House elicited TARP Study done in the 1980’s the following was discovered about unsatisfied customers:

-96% of dissatisfied customers do not complain directly.

-90% will not return.

-One unhappy customer will tell nine others.

-13% will tell at least 20 other people.

Just think that study took place over 20 years ago; since that time Customer Service has certainly fallen by the wayside.  The big question is, are we as consumers to blame?  Think about it, by lowering our standards and accepting the less that adequate service are we paving the way for our own mistreatment?  Is it too late to make a change?

Now I’m not saying that everyone should start raving like a lunatic when they receive a medium instead of a large or a because the Walmart greeter doesn’t smile as they say hello.  No that is certainly not the solution.  What we can do is increase our standards of acceptance.  If you feel like you were mistreated, say something to a manager, voice your opinion and make your standards known.  You don’t have to cause an uproar but you can explain that it’s not acceptable.  Encourage your friends and family to stop settling for mediocre and make these corporations live up to the standards of excellence that they advertise!  It’s not all about putting out the best price it has to be a balance between price, customer service and overall store appearance.

Maybe I’m the only one who feels this way, but if I’m not then maybe if enough of us stand up to it and demand better maybe we might can make a difference.  Or maybe we’ll just be deemed complainers – haha – either way it’s worth a try.

End thought: You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don’t try.” – Beverly Sills

Also, yes I tried to be serious in this, but the pictures got me. I just couldn’t help myself.

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There have been so many moments where I’ve flip flopped from one side of this to the other.  Those who read my blog see where I’ve been torn into pieces over what to do about The Jerk.  One minute I’d give my every breath to have a father for my son, not just any father, but his real father; to give him that father-son bond that cannot be duplicated because he deserves that – all children deserve to have a their mother and father.  Only it wouldn’t be his real father I would want, I would want the person that he pretended to be, in my son’s life. I would want the pretend him, the one who loved his children more than the moon and the sky, the man who doted on them and couldn’t wait to see their smiling faces, the fabrication The Jerk so easy created until one day it disappeared into a disgusting and worthless pile of anger and abuse.  It is because of that day that there are times that I actually pray that God will make him leave for good; no more of this back and forth.  Just go away and let my Peanut live in peace.  I don’t know which is worse him being around or him leaving for good?

Ms. Cookie (Peanut’s teacher) handed me a little piece of construction paper today…on it a sail boat with Peanut’s hand print as the sail.  It read “I’d sail the seven seas for you Daddy. I love you! Happy Fathers Day” all I could was smile and utter a choked Thank you with tears in my eyes.  I thought to myself:

if only he would do the same for you son…..

She looked at me as if she knew, with eyes that said I’m sorry.  I kissed my Peanut and said goodbye, I waited till I reached my car to cry.  It was a quiet cry not the violent kind.  The kind of cry where you’ve given this moment all the energy that you can muster long before now and this is just a repeat of times past. The kind of cry where there are no sobs, no tightened muscles – no it was the kind of cry where every ounce of energy left me as I sat defeated in my car tears streaming down my face and off my chin saturating my shirt.   I’ve been here before, crying all alone not knowing what to wish now just hoping God will lead me in what is right for my son. God please, I prayed I don’t know what to do…just please help me be the best for him. I feel like my hands are tied….

Suddenly my phone rings….it’s The Jerk. I stared at my phone blankly…what could I do? If I ignore it he’ll just call back over and over again till I answer.  So I answer…he’s coming to visitation he says.  I’m emotionless. I wanted to scream in the phone I hate you for what you’ve done to my life, to my son’s life! instead I just said “Ok” and hung up the phone.  I wanted to be angry, to say he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve my Peanut’s love.  Then at the same time – I thought maybe I should be happy that he actually wants to see my son – his son technically.  I don’t know how to feel right now.

It’s bittersweet….

One one hand my son deserves to have his father – but on the other his father is worthless and can’t be the father he deserves.  He’ll come to visitation and play for a while, he’ll leave and probably not see him for another 6 months.  Will my Peanut know the difference?  In the back of mind I’ll be wishing he would leave, that he would say he’s moving to California or Australia and never coming back.  But that’s my selfishness speaking, or is it?  Could it just be that I feel the pain for my son, that I sympathize with the hurt and confusion that will come when he realizes his father is only around out of convenience? 

There is no right answer for this moment.  I know there won’t be some divine intervention where God gives me the answer that will solve everything, no only time can fix this.  I’ll just have to smile through the bittersweet moment and wish that I had given my son a better father, a father who would love and care for him, a father who would never hurt or abandon him.  I’ll own that moment, because it is mine.  I’ll take responsibility for the tears because it’s my fault that they fall; because I chose to be with him,  I chose to stay in the chaos,  I chose to live with the abuse.

It’s oh so bittersweet, because although I want to hate him and wish we’d never met, I thank God that I endured the things I did, because it brought me my son.  No matter what happens I will always be grateful to God for that.

End thought: “When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts.  A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.”  ~Sophia Loren, 

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….and I was so ready to finish it on my break and then my “boss” walks in to micromanage me like I have nothing better to do than listen to him ramble. Meanwhile I’m actually working and he is sending me links  to video clips off of TMZ that he thinks are funny over IM…right because that is totally what he is paid to do. WTFE…

Also, I don’t know why this weird woman is twitterstalking me but it’s incredibly annoying. I’m not following her but she is following me obviously and keeps sending me smart a** replies about my “behavior”…for instance in reply to my angry posts she copies my bio and sends it to me. And since she is twitter stalking me she will probably read this so – thank you , I guess, I mean wtf is that about?  I mean not that your input was needed strange lady but if you don’t like seeing what I have to say STOP FUCKING FOLLOWING ME!!

Or in all fairness she could be a bot and auto-posts random shit just to piss me off…either way it’s creepy at best.  STOP FOLLOWING ME BOT!!!

Meanwhile my little sister calls me because she had an argument with my mom about MCDONALDS and the price of a value meal in comparison to individually ordering the items from the $1 menu (seriously?) – I shit you not.

Then my Gma calls me to tell me that a police officer showed up at her house looking for someone in particular…peachy. There isn’t enough xanex in the world to supply the necessary does needed to deal with my family. Dear Britney Spears you totally stole the title to my autobiography [Circus] but I forgive you…cause I’m that type of person…you’re welcome.

End thought: “Family, you can’t live with them and no matter where you run they find you.” – Me

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My J is my rock.  He’s strength when I don’t have the energy to be strong, when I’ve given all I have to give he stands to provide all he’s got.  When I’m mean and hateful he replies with a hug and a smile.  When I push he pulls me closer.  When I want to scream he whispers and then….. he buys me flowers.

There are times when I’m just down right mean.  When I’ve had the kind of day where you can’t even muster a smile and then I take it all out on him.  I rant and I rave, I’m short with him and ignore his loving gestures. All because I panic…he’s too nice I think to myself,  nice doesn’t last, nice never lasts. I get angry and violent and push him as far as I think he will go….and then…he buys me flowers.

I want to cry, I want to scream and be angry because I’m scared to let him love me.  To let him have the parts of me that I hate.  It’s  easy to give away the good parts, but giving someone the ability to see you – through and through – good, bad and ugly…it takes guts – a self confidence that I lack.   So as a test I give him a taste, a tiny taste, letting him see the crazy side, uncovering the scars – opening up the chaos I’ve kept hidden thus far bracing myself for the moment I fear will follow – him washing his hands of all that is me…and then when I’m sure he’s ready to leave…he buys me flowers.

All this time, all of these emotional storms he’s weathered with love and compassion, devotion and understanding, patience and unyielding strength and what do I do? Don’t buy me flowers, I say.  I know he can only take so much – maybe that’s why I push..because I’m so used to being mistreated, hated and abused that I don’t know how to deal with nice. So there he stands confusion and hurt written all over his face…Don’t buy me flowers, I say…because I’m crazy I guess.  Because I don’t deserve them and I know I don’t, I don’t deserve him and I’m scared that he’ll go.  Don’t buy me flowers I say, because I secretly feel guilty every time they deliver a beautiful bouquet that I don’t deserve.  Don’t buy me flowers don’t treat me nice because I don’t deserve you I say…and then….he buys me flowers…. because he loves me.

Because he won’t leave me, because no matter how hard I push he’ll just pull me closer out of love.  No matter how many scars he sees, he’ll still hold my hand out of love.  No matter what I throw at him…he buys me flowers out of love.

End thought: “Flowers are Love’s truest language…” –Park Benjamin

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