Cue the world's smallest violins . . .

Look up the phrase "fair weather friend" in the dictionary and you will probably see a picture of me.

Gah!

I'm the worst!

Never in my wildest dreams, did I think there would be a day (or the last two months) where I was unable to find time for blogging or reading all your blogs.

But I think of you all often and throughout the day of my ho-hum yet dangerous job. Seriously, I had a punk pull out a switchblade and start cleaning his nails in an attempt to intimidate me because he and his pregnant, non US citizen girlfriend were ineligible for food st*mps due to his full-time college student status . . . I ignored the knife and he eventually put it away but I was reprimanded by my supervisor for not leaving my office or calling for help (I did attempt to call my supervisor twice, but she never answered her phone)!

Oh the job.

My first appointment of the day are expedites, usually men who just got out of the big-house and are currently homeless . . . which then, makes me think about the vileman and what he will do when he gets out.

Not that you all remind me of educated punks and ex-felons.

No, no, no!

Every morning I put on a silver bracelet along with my "GRRR" bracelet (it's black and matches everything and they look really nice together, and many people have commented on them and so, I always think of Debbi every morning.

My friends from the Frances Kuffle Amazon blog and the AFG blog . . . Vickie, Lori, Anne, Jen, Cindy, Laura N. and Helen.

Friends I met blogging as the Gr*mpy Ch*ir D*eter . . . Sharla (happy anniversary), Jill, Cammy, Michelle, Patience, Eva and Wendy.

You all have been such a great support system to me and I shall be a better blogger buddy soon!
***
The kids are very active in baseball and t-ball. Everyday either a practice or game.

I get home from work, grab waters and kids and head to the baseball field. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. Sometime, we don't get home until 11:00 pm.

This has been going on since April. The t-ball schedule ends on Tuesday bringing about two to three days of relief.

Baseball ends sometime next month.

And with that said, I shall write again sometime in June!

Working for a living

So, as some of you may know, I started a job on Feb. 8th.

I'm sooooooo tired.

And this job thingy, is seriously invading my internet time!

I work for the great state, in the public assistance department, where I interview clients and determine their eligibility for benefits.

I spent the first three weeks on the job reading policy and procedure and filing.

Then four weeks in training classes . . . on policy and procedure.

One week back in the office . . . where I realized "real life" cases don't equal "classroom 'perfect world' scenarios".

For the next two weeks, I'm in the "real world" training class, working cases but with supervision.

It's a tough, tough job.

And the pay sucks.

I really want to like this job.

Anyway, the kids are in their busy season - baseball, t-ball, dance competitions, band competitions/concerts, school programs . . . just eating into my "me" time where I would read blogs and post on occasion.

Maybe this weekend I'll get a little caught up.

So, you ask for "the details" . . .

"Take one slimy, greasy, slick criminal defense lawyer and one sociopathic ped-o-vile . . . between the two of them, there probably isn't much of a heart, maybe only a little bit of aorta." - Doc Manette

Anyway, the DA called me the week before vileman's trial to inform me that vileman was going to plead guilty in exchange for three years and I wouldn't have to testify.

A few days before his plea jail time hearing, I heard from the lovely lady (the lady who showed up with vileman's records at my temporary order hearing and the divorce hearing) letting me know that the nice man (the detective) wanted to talk to me.

I had a nice conversation with the detective. He said vileman's lawyer had a "heart to heart" talk (See first paragraph of this post) with the vileman about plea bargaining instead of going to trial, because the case was "airtight" and if he went to trial, he would probably end up doing the maximum of 10 years. (Sorry, very, very long sentence.) The detective seemed very pleased that vileman was going away for awhile.

Vileman must have had second thoughts about going to jail, because he showed up almost two hours late for his hearing.

***

With vileman out of the way, I was able to join facebook as . . . me!

One Man's Pain is another WOman's Glee

$11,888.00 paid to a divorce lawyer
$4,140.00 paid to counselors
$601.00 out-of-pocket expenses for divorce (travel, lodging, copies, postage)
$1,485.00 in moving and storage fees

Cost to see the vileman's mug shot Tuesday night, on the website where he was booked on March 8th to begin serving his 3 year sentence . . .

Priceless.

Sand Through the Hourglass . . .

Time is running out for the vile one.

Soon, I shall close the last chapter of this horror book.

I'll keep you posted as it might still be delayed by a few weeks.

Snow!

It's been a long time (approximately 5 years) since I have seen snow and yippie! we got it today!

Sorry all you blizzard victims but I'm like an 8 year old when it comes to snow.

****

On February 1st, (weigh-in day), I was happy to see that I had maintained my weight loss from December. I weighed exactly the same as I did on January 1st. Though I didn't lose, I didn't gain either. Not even an ounce. And that makes me happy!

I Am My Own Worst Enemy

First, let me say a big old thanks to Cammy, Jill and Cindy for their great suggestions and help with my resume. I used every single suggestion and have started to get a few nibbles from the new and improved resume and kick but(t) cover letters.

Now, if only someone other than me did the interview!

I am no longer articulate! (My gray matter is as smooth as glass.)

And apparently, I have the skills of a good politician . . . as in not answering the question asked and instead talking about something different and nodding my head in agreement . . . at the same time.

My favorite thing is to call the company I'm interviewing at by the wrong name!

Man, you should see the look on the interviewer's face when that happens!

If anything, I might have a career in writing a book on "NOT what to say or do during job interviews for dummies".

****

I have had a sinus/cold thing going on for the last 6 weeks.

Now if I were auditioning for a role as Rudolph, there wouldn't be a problem but going to a job interview with a shinny red nose (because it is so chapped that I have had to resort to rubbing Aquaphor around the nostrils) is very unattractive.

"No, I rarely call in sick . . .cough, cough."

****

I'm worried most about (should a job offer be offered my way) asking off for vile's trial. I guess I will cross that bridge when I'm lucky enough to have a job.

Bruised Butt . . . Not Battered

After I posted yesterday and sent off an email, I ventured down the stairs to warm up my coffee and on the fifth step from the bottom . . . I fell down the stairs. It wasn't a movie prat fall but(t) a fall landing on my butt, legs stretched out, as if I was riding a snow saucer down a hill . . . thump, thump, thump, thump . . . thump.

It was a 4.8 on the Richter scale.

As I sat on the floor, stunned, I immediately thought "please God, don't let my butt be broken".

I got on my hands and knees and pushed myself up, though my bottom was feeling some pain, I'm pretty sure the extra padding kept the tail bone from breaking.

But(t) it still hurt.

Walking it off by pacing around the foyer, I was overcome with relief that nothing was broken and begin to laugh hysterically. The thought of going to the hospital with a broken butt would have been too embarrassing. Of course, had this been Reuben's time, I would have been a celebrity going into the hospital with a Reuben-isque broken bum. Back then, the doctors would call in nurses, interns and orderlies to admire my awesomeness of dimples, lumps and bumps . . . but(t) the reality is, I'm living in the 21st century.

The grouchy nurse, angry that a size 14/16 was staring her/him in the face, would yell down the hall for all to hear . . . "were gonna need bigger gauze!"

Also, I was relieved I wouldn't have to explain the cough syrup on my breath, as I had just had a hefty sip of Delysm 12 hour cough syrup* for a nagging cough I have had since mid December. (*I'm pretty sure Delysm doesn't make one groggy nor does it have a warning that one should not operate heavy machinery or walk down wood stairs with socks on.) Phew, no rumors of me being "under the influence" to deal with.

But(t) the moral of this story for me is this: something (the straw) did happen and it didn't break my back or butt. I survived and giggled out loud at my misstep. And once the coffee mess was cleaned up, I realized I didn't implode! I chose to carve out some relaxation time for myself.

So I made a cup of herbal tea and took the other stairs with carpet (to soften any falls).


P.S. - Very brusied but(t) not broken!

That Girl

Lately, I have felt that if any more straw is thrown on this old camel's back . . . implosion might occur. Then, I spoke with my big sis yesterday morning and she told me to start telling myself or chanting "this is only temporary, this is only temporary".

She also reminded me of a conversation that I had on June 25th when I asked my then husband "Is this the only phone call you can make?"

Jailed vile husband: "Yes!"

Me: "Then you made the wrong phone call." Click.

I need to channel that girl who was so strong and smart that horrific day.

Off to go chant . . .

Those Sneaky Pounds and other things:

The morning of January 1st, I got out of bed, groaned and pulled out the Tanita hidden under the bed.

Might as well see the damage.

I had to get on and off that scale five times before I accepted the number on the read out dial . . . 167.4 pounds!

Yee Haw!!!!

Not only do those pounds sneak up on you, apparently they can sneak off too!

Haven't weighed 167 in over 6 years (which didn't last long) though, I did see a blip of 167 in November of 2007, it was only for a few hours . . .

Since losing on the Crack the Fat diet, I was maintaining around 173/174.

****

I'm going to be emailing some of you with an attachment of my resume as a rich text file. I do not have Microsoft Works (only Tasks) and cannot send a doc file. Anyway, I would love, love, love any advice you might have (I promise I can handle constructive criticism) on improving my chances for getting an interview!

I have applied for many administrative assistant positions because that is where my strongest skills are but have not been able to secure interviews and I would love, love, love any feedback you might have.

Every rejection email/letter that I get has me wondering . . . why? My former supervisors have all given me great references (for the one interview I scored for a foodstamps clerk), my criminal background is clean, etc.

Any advice would be appreciated.

****
Vickie wanted to know if I cut my hair myself in the bathroom (I thought that was so funny and it gave me a much needed laugh . . . I was kind of dramatic about it!)

The girl who has cut my hair for the last year . . . had a bad day. I asked to go shorter and it looked like some weird version of the Kate (of Jon and Kate) thing . . . only ugly. So I waited three days and went to another hairdresser and asked her to just give me a pixie. Currently, my hair is as short as Jamie Lee Curtis' on those laxative yogurt commercials.

Short.

****

2009 Had Such High Hopes . . .

Have you ever had trouble reading the last few chapters of a book because lack of time or exhaustion preventing you from finishing it?.

I sooooo wanted to close the book on vileman by the end of 2009.

Not going to happen.

Now his trial is set for late February 2010.

I wonder how many more victims he violated from the time he got out of jail in July 2008 to present time?

I had such high hopes for 2009 - a divorce the first week of the new year and the house sold in first month of the second quarter. . .

But it seems to be ending with a fizzle . . .

Still no job - I feel so unworthy.

I cut all my hair off - I feel so ugly.

Screeeeeeeech . . .

Best to put on the brakes and not think about things that make me feel like dog doo.

I will find a job in 2010.

My hair will grow out.

Time to Soar

Seeing how we are now in the good tidings and merry season, I shall not try to grumble and moan too loudly about everything that has gone so wrong the past three weeks. I need to keep on keeping on but I have to wonder what the tipping point is?

Is there a DNA component that has a person hitting bottom and rising out of the ashes like the phoenix? Or is there a component that makes a person throw up their hands and look up at the sky declaring defeat?

I hope, hope, hope, I have the phoenix DNA.

At my last job, over 6 1/2 years ago, I worked with a woman who had a black doom cloud hanging over her head. Trouble just seemed to follow her. I have been thinking about her a lot lately, wondering if she ever had any potential and just gave up on striving for things she wanted to achieve by giving in to the ultimate sin of "settling".

Was she once a vibrant, thin, good natured woman? Did life beat her down so much that she put on 60 pounds, took up smoking, settled for a low-wage job where she wore the same stinky sweater with pockets (to hold the cigarettes) everyday? Did she give up on her children and fail to help progress them along? What happened to her?

I hope, hope, hope, I don't become just like her.

***

Think of all my blessings . . .

13 and 6 mean everything to me. Everything I have done has been in the best interest of them. That includes not going back to work right away (this is a very sore subject with a male figure in my family.) As Vickie likes to say "should of, could of, would of". I don't want to regret being home for them during a very difficult time in their life.

I had a flat tire three weeks ago. I was at the country town library where the out of school suspension kids flock to after their class is over (ironic, I know.) As I walked to my car, a young delinquent pointed out that I had a flat. He offered to fix it . . . . for money. I told him thank you and that I had no money on me so I would fix it myself.

One of the other gang members shook his head and told me he would fix it for me, because he said "my mom could be in the same predicament as you and I hope someone helps her." It took the gang one hour to break my jack and change the tire. But I was happy they helped me and offered to write their probation officers and a judge a nice letter.

The 13 year old and I are going to practice changing the tire so that he and I both can learn. But first, I'm going to buy a better jack.

***

Last month the healer sent a huge package to the ADA's office. It included all correspondence from vileman that he has written to me and the kids plus all emails he sends (his bond restrictions are supposed to keep him off the Internet except for job hunting purposes.) After the ADA received the package, she called the healer to report that "if it were true, (duh!?! they had all the evidence) then he was in violation of his bond restrictions".

Nothing ever came of it. Which leaves me to believe that (1) they think it is domestic or (2) they are going to present it during his trial and probably subpoena me to testify. Grrr. Or (3) they know his trial is coming up at the end of December and maybe the info they have will keep him from getting another continuance.

I'm losing my faith in the judicial system.

***

I haven't been able to comment or post because (very embarrassing) I could not remember my password to this account. Ahem. And like the smart cookie that I am, the email address where they send the password info should you forget, required that password that I couldn't remember.

It finally came to me after days and days of trying . . . and I now feel quite merry.

The Sponge Cannot Absorb Anything Else

I am saturated.

And ready to implode!

Time for relaxation techniques to kick in . . . and implemented immediately.

I haven't heard any feedback regarding vileman's liberal use of the internet and other no no's.

***

Must. Think. Of. Something. Positive.

****

I have maintained an 11 pound weight loss for the last few weeks, though I haven't been cracking the whip.

*****

Vileman's trial has been reset to the week after Christmas. He is at the very top of the list and I know that the prosecutor assigned (he has bounced all over the ADA staff) just wrapped up a very high profile murder case.

I might be writing a very long letter to Santa Claus regarding adding someone to his naughty list.

No News . . . Yet (tick tick tick . . .)

Still waiting to hear something about anything!

In the meantime, I'm hunkered down trying to secure some temporary seasonal retail employment while still doing the full-time job hunt.

I so wish I had something of the good news variety to let you know about.

But I got nothing.

I have been staying away from sweets (there's a bit of good news!) and sticking with the fat cracking diet. The few slacks that I bought last fall when I thought I was going to be looking for a job, are about to be too big - (some more good news!)

Switching gears, last week Abbey from TBL was on the radio and mentioned there was a romance going on behind the scenes . . . after watching Tuesday's episode, I think I might have figured out the duo . . . (Trainer and young pretty trainee . . . )

I'm off to read Jen's review of this weeks TBL episode . . . maybe she mentions something about it.

tick tick tick tick tick tick tick . . . . . .

The waiting is the hardest part.

Thursday and Friday, were horrible eating days. The worst of the year and possibly the last few years.

I was running around gathering information and making copies and the stress of it all (plus the dreaded first day of lady cycle) had me incorporating an old habit . . .something I haven't done in several years . . .

I invited an old companion to accompany me. Her name is "Little Debbie" and she supplied the zebra cakes.

After I inhaled the package of two small nonfood items, I realized I hadn't even tasted them. So I pulled out a second package of two and ate them slower. (Bringing my calorie content to around 900 for four individual zebra cakes.

By the way, they were not tasty.

When I got to my destination, I threw the box away for fear I would consume the entire contents, trying desparately to remember why they (the cakes) brought me comfort a few years ago.

The magic wasn't rekindled.

Friday, I failed to eat breakfast and realized it was already time to pick up the kids from school and I hadn't eaten anything all day. I was wired from too much coffee.

Thank goodness I have the snack bag in the car for the kids (which has never bothered me or triggered any binges).

Two individual bags of goldfish crackers later, I was now craving carbs.

Made the kids witches broomstick breadsticks (from pizza dough) when we got home. I ate mine with butter.

***

I know it might not sound so bad or be considered a binge in some peoples' book but it isn't really about the food. It's how I handled the stress. It was handled destructively. And not just one off day but two. And we all know that if it isn't nipped in the bud, two bad days can equal a week and so on . . . until you weigh more than you have ever weighed.


This morning I had a boiled egg and a sliced apple first thing.

My face and fingers feel and look puffy.

I think my best course of dealing with the upcoming issue is to eat healthy, get plenty of water, exercise and wait it out like a human. Not a zombie feasting on anything that moves past me.

Problem Will Be Solved (Keeps fingers crossed . . .)

Thank you all so much for your support and comments regarding you know what.

I believe the problem will be handled by the end of the week and I will keep you informed . . .

until then, I edited my last post, so as not to tip someone off should someone happen to find this blog. I hid the comments for the time being also.

I will write more once I know more.

Thanks again for all your support! I so, so, appreciate it.

My Life in the Left Hand Turn Lane

It always seems like I am turning left, whether taking the kids to school or returning home, or running errands.

Weird.

***
The girl (6) went back to school today after missing most of last week (she went to school on Wednesday but said she felt horrible and when I picked her up after school she had a temperature of 103.8). She has missed a total of eight days already this year and I suspect today, I will get the computer generated letter telling me she has excessive absences and if she misses seven more days she will not be eligible to pass first grade.

Grrr.

I understand that the school district legally has to notify you that your child is frequently absent and passing school might be jeopardized, but . . . since school started, the nation has had a very early flu season with two flu(s) floating around!

Six ran a fever for eight straight days . . . starting on Thursday and ending the next Friday. A child could easily miss 5 to 7 days of school for each case of flu (seasonal and H1N1)! I think over 15 absent days is the cut-off, so two bouts of flu and your out!

Grrr.

And the school does not want you to send your child to school sick.

The first three days six missed happened the third week of school and I think she might have had a mild case of the H1N1 flu - fever, body aches and diarrhea. Turns out that week, she was NOT the only one home ill. The absence rate was way high compared to last year at that time.

I'm not worried about six not passing first grade because of illness/absences. She is smart. ***We interrupt this old lady rant to insert some proud parental bragging rights*** At the beginning of the school year, the teacher tested all the kids on reading and math skills -Six got a perfect score on word recognition, something the teacher in 17 years of teaching had never seen before. And six already reads the wpm required of first graders to pass to second grade. ***End of bragging.***

What I am worried about is the necessity to change the rules this school season due to the already high absences related to the two flu(s). And the flu season has just begun. Parents should be able to keep their kids home to recover and not feel pressure to get them back in school based on the absence rate. (I understand this is very hard on working parents too, because it's tough to ask off work all week or longer to care for an ill child.)

****

The Book of Possibilities Replaced with a Plan

The movie "Last Holiday" with Queen Latifa is one of my favorite "feel good" movies and I just loved the character's "book of possibilities". She made the book scrapbook-like and put in it, things she wanted to do, places she wanted to go and recipes she wanted to try.

There is a scene in the movie where she is looking at her book and crying because she hadn't implemented any of her possibilities, that is, until she thinks she only has a few weeks to live.

Only when she thinks she is dying, does she begin to live out her possibilities.

I don't want that to happen to me.

Debbi has a great Friday quote post today that got me thinking about this possibility/dream /action/plan thing.

For instance, the other morning when I was taking 13 to school, we were listening to the radio and the dj (Kidd Kraddick) was talking about single parents. According to some research he quoted, 1 in 5 single parents never dates again. Then he went on and described that single parent . . . sweat pants (I was wearing blue jean shorts), tee shirt (check!) flip flops (check!), no make-up (I prefer fresh faced but . . . check!) and so on and so on . . .

13 just looked at me like I was from outer space because, I was saying "check!" with each description.

Now the dating thing, I'm currently not interested in as we all know why (thank you vileman for making me currently not trust males) but I think right now, it's okay that I shy away from that part until I'm ready.

But I don't want to look like I have given up on myself either.

Right now my biggest "dream" is to find a good job. This job will be the most important job of my working career because it has to be something that I am satisfied with, that pays the bills and allows the kids and I to move into chapter two of this journey.

I haven't really written down a plan to find this great job. Oh, I've dreamed about the possibilities of finding great job and cashing my paycheck. I have been job hunting on the internet, large company websites, and the newspaper but I haven't sat down and decided what it is that I want to do, or at least narrowed it down. Instead, I have been applying for things I think I could do, even if it isn't something that might interest me.

I need a well thought out plan.

Exercising is another dream/possibility without a plan.

Sometimes, I daydream about doing yoga every morning and then walking after the kids get home from school or riding the exercise bike in the shop should it be raining. I need an exercise schedule stat! But more importantly, I need to implement the exercise schedule . . . STAT!

So, over the next few days, I will be making doable plans.

Time for a will

This morning I'm running a temperature, a very low grade one. I usually run below 98.6 (around 97 degrees due to thyroid disease) so anything close to 100 is a temperature for me . . . a million little violins are playing . . .


Six went back to school this morning after being home since Friday with an "upper respiratory infection" . . .because doctor is tired of the flu diagnosis paperwork and testing for all patients with flu like symptoms . . .


While waiting for 6's dance class to end last week, another mom offered me an Avon book and said she was the Avon lady. I told her I used to use the Anew products. She studied my face and handed me some Anew product samples (the Anew line has products specified for each age decade 30's, 40's, and 50's . . . apparently your skin doesn't require anything new when you are in your 60's, 70's, 80's, 90's, or 100's ) . . . that's right, after studying my skin, she handed me samples for . . . . . .

THE 50's AGE GROUP . . . . the 50's and older age group!

. . . Don't like Avon lady . . . I'll buy Olay.


Tomorrow 12 turns 13 . . . he will now be called a teenager for the next five years . . . the adolescent-hell years . . . I can already feel my wrinkles deepening . . .


Today, I will be working on my last will and testament . . . because I have a temperature and I look old.

Take out the fat - put the fat back in . . .

After re-thinking my resume, I decided it wasn't doing me any justice and retooled it. My original version was pared down because years ago, I had heard your resume should only be one page long. So, last year when I wrote my resume, I took out a lot of the "fat" and instead of highlighting my accomplishments, I focused on my job duties.

So, after a lot of research, rewriting, utilizing the right "buzz" words, and getting rid of a job on my resume (it aged me and I read you should only have the past 15 years of work on the resume -also, I have no desire to be a financial paraplanner and would not be looking for jobs in that area) I'm now ready to retry the job search with the new and improved resume.

Wish me luck!

***

I spent a lot of time re-tooling the resume last week but in between breaks, I cleaned out my closet and the four foot lockers full of clothes that no matter how many times I weed out - still seem to never make much of a dent (sort of like my credit card balances).

There is a show called "Closet Cases" with Lloyd Boston that I love to watch on Saturday afternoon (Fine Living Network). His advice is to make three piles: Stop, Go and Yield . . . I did that and managed to get two large trash bags full of clothing for donation to Goodwill. My goal would be to have one foot locker for out-of-season clothing storage.

***

Six got sick Thursday night. She said her head hurt. She was also running a fever and I was afraid she was going to have the flu - she had a field trip scheduled for Friday at the pumpkin patch and she couldn't go because Friday morning she still had a fever. Boo Hoo! I felt so bad for her (second thing she didn't get to do) but I promised when she felt better I would take her to the pumpkin patch.

This morning she has had no fever, just a runny nose and a wet cough. Hopefully it is just a cold.

***
The rain finally stopped yesterday and the sun is actually shining today - the temperatures are in the low 70's - a beautiful fall day just waiting for me to enjoy a nice walk.

Have a great weekend.