I’m aiming for late tomorrow morning

Yesterday, I was sure I would be early to work, which was a good thing, since we’ve shortened our close, and we were already a day short because of Memorial Day. Except, the babysitter wasn’t awake. I rang the bell, and called both her numbers for over twenty minutes before heading back home. Called the boss, and finally the sitter called apologizing over and over again. I was 40 minutes late.

Today was worse.

We leave the house early enough that I’ll be able to make up some of the time I lost yesterday. It’s Weds, so that means babysitter payday. Now remember, I live about three miles one way from the sitter’s house, and three miles the other way from work. So I head up the street towards the ATM. About a mile up, something very large hit the car, or so I thought. I’m thinking WTF was that noise? It sounded like a large rock got flung at my passenger’s side, which wouldn’t have surprised me, since there’s a lot of construction right there. I go through the ATM, and then start to turn at the sitter’s street. The car feels a bit funny, but when I accelerate, it’s fine. I figure maybe part of the bumper came off, so when I get to the sitter’s, I do the check.

The fucking rear tire had blown. That was the noise. And since it’s a tiny car, with no weight in the back, it didn’t really affect the drive.

I ask the sitter if her hubby was up. She says no. I say, I’ll pay you to wake him up, and grin and hand her this week’s money.

Poor sitter’s hubby. I apologized over and over, but he’s a great person and just said I owe him a Dr. Pepper.

But wait! There’s more!

The donut was flat. And wore way the hell down. Paranoid Pav thinks it got swapped at some point, because that did *not* look like my spare.

So I call my boss, and ask her to head back up north to pick my stranded ass up. This way, we were both late I dropped off the tire after lunch, and like I suspected, it can’t be fixed because the hole is in the sidewall. I got playfully scolded by the salesman for riding the curbs, cause yeah, I could see where I had worn it down.

One tire for that tiny ass car – $62. Fuck me. Another coworker drove me to pick it up after work, and TGs put it back on for me, cause I sure as hell don’t trust myself enough to tighten the bolts.

Miss Amy’s in the tub, and Brody’s watching Sesame Street. I’m gonna head upstairs soon to take a bath too, since my back is freaking killing me, even after the Skelaxin and Hydrocodone. I think I’m relearning that I can’t pick up the boy anymore.

Happiness is

banana-rum flavored cream cheese icing

finding the perfect second-hand polyester shirt

hiring a third person for the department when we’ve been down three for too long

finding a cool Shel Silverstein wall hanging for 50 cents at a garage sale

getting enough sun to not look quite as dead

my boy doing well enough on the potty train to earn a package of size 4t tighty whities – “like Grandpa’s!”

fitting into my size 8s

finding my baby sister a temp job at a pretty decent rate if she can get her ass here quickly

having something more interesting than Brothel to read in the tub and at the poolside

finding a copy of The Secret Life of Bees at a garage sale for a quarter

knowing I’m not screwing up too bad taking over payroll

episodes of Foster’s Home that I haven’t seen before

“No, Mommy, I want to sleep with you.”

Vanilla malts

Chicken mole

A black cat still young enough to spazz properly, but content enough to sleep with his face in my hand

my kid enjoying Final Fantasy too

finally applying to go back to school…at 34

And banana-rum flavored cream cheese icing

1:13, and I’m still awake

Explain to me how I’ve been crashing at nine the past few days, but ohnoes, not tonight. I lay down and hurt. So I roll to my side and watch Food TV. That makes me have to get up and find food.

I fill the tummy, and now the same shows are on, so I must change the channel. Ooo, look, last season’s episodes of Inked! Until I get to the ones I’ve seen, then I must find food again. Or at least, beverage.

The cat just came downstairs from our bed to stare at me. Sutton’s kitty face said, “Wtf freak? Don’t you realize you have work tomorrow? And it’s the first day of close? And I can’t sleep without your human snoring?”

So I turn out the light. And he proceeds to walk across the keyboard the kids left turned on.

Let’s see what’s on-demand.

It starts with a single step

No shrieking, please.

I filled out my application online for local community college today. They have a ton of courses online, so this really is possible.

It starts.

Ooo! I forgot to update about Miss Amy’s awards ceremony

*Gushgushgushgush*

My baby girl got four certificates/pins! One each for getting commended status on the three different sections of the standardized test this year (her Reading was for a perfect score), and one for A/B honor roll. She also came home with a certificate for her Science Fair project. Ok, but wait, there’s more to this story. That’s all the filler stuff.

All the parents file into the auditorium to sit on the side sections, reserving the middle for the 5th and 6th graders.

Kids file in solemnly LOL

Principal welcomes us and brags about her students

Strings perform their award winning pieces from the last contest

Principal of middle school speaks

Band goes on stage and performs the pieces they took to competition (I think I may have posted, but they got 3rd…out of 3 schools for that one). Miss Amy was in first chair.

The band instructor speaks: he talks about how since they are restructuring the schools, there won’t be band in elementary anymore, and he’ll be going to middle school with the kids.

(side note) Amy’s school was lucky enough to be part of the Save the Music program, and their instruments are donated. We paid a maintenace fee at the beginning of the year, but instruments will be moving schools with the instructor.

Amy’s instructor, Mr. Bandman, starts putting together a saxophone, and we all think, cool, he’s going to play with the kids! Hee decides to give out the band award then, instead of in the middle of the program like scheduled. He says, every year, the program he’s with (Save the Music) takes donated instruments, and he assures the donators that they’ll go somewhere where they’ll be appreciated. He says, this year’s award goes to someone who has music in her soul, and on and on and on. And then he gives the saxophone in his hand to MY KID!

Amy was stunned, and couldn’t stop hugging Mr. Bandman. I was in tears. I’m almost in tears now too.

I can’t even begin to tell you, as a mom, how freaking proud of her I am.

So many things I should probably update

But I’m lazy.

The slumber party was tiring. Two of the girls I would keep for my own, and two will not be returning to my house. Sunday, Miss Amy had a bit of an exhaustion meltdown, and ended up crying on my shoulder because of those two. It’s a really long story, but the short of is it that they’re bullies. And one on them wrote on my counter top in green sharpie. And gave the other the biggest, bloodiest nosebleed I have ever seen in my entire life. And even though I didn’t like the kid, I had to be supermomcalmcoolandcollected until we got it to stop. And then three hours later I had to growl because they lights were supposed to be out and someone was yelling loud enough at the Xbox that it woke me up on the second floor. Anyway.

Work is still insane. We have to take over all of the Canadian office’s accounting functions by next Monday. And we presently don’t have offices! Someone thought it would be a wonderful idea to get us new carpet (finally) on the second floor, since they didn’t redo it when they did downstairs a year and a half ago. Without warning, the contractors show up Friday, and tell the IT guy to get his stuff a’gathered cause his office is first. They were supposed to finish yesterday. They didn’t. They won’t even be finished tonight. My computer is currently in the file room, and my desk is in pieces. I sat in my old bossboss’ office today, but without my computer and certain certificates, I couldn’t do a portion of my job. Not to mention not having my hard files available. And did I mention I was suppose to start training for payroll tomorrow?

I think I’m going to head upstairs for a soak. Due to money and time constraints, I haven’t been to the chiro for an adjustment or massage in too long, and I’ve been in a great deal of pain the past few days. I hate reaching into my bag o’tricks for meds, so to prove something to myself, I endure it as long as I possibly can before taking anything. . I know what it looks like to see someone my age with narcotics, and a big bottle at that, so I really try not to take them. And then my shoulder starts burning, like it is now, and my hip will get to the point where I start limping before I do anything. Sorry for being all Wendy Whiner here.

Anyway, still no house, still no new car.  I’m just trudging along with the day-to-days for a bit longer, until I get my bearings. The thought of returning to school is creeping into my waking thoughts more and more lately, with little daydreams of how to make it work and still support the kids emotionally and financially.

Miss Amy, btw, got first place in her class for the Starbucks costume, or did I mention that before? And she has her graduation/awards ceremony tomorrow that I already told my boss I’m leaving work to attend. She was nominated for best all-around student for her grade I’m so freaking proud of her. And not just for academics. After this past weekend, I really feel that for the most part, I’m doing a pretty good job with her.

From the Beatles to the Jackson 5

Hi, My I’m Amy’s mom. I don’t drink; I don’t smoke. I don’t do illegal drugs. I’m not dating anyone, so I’ll be the only adult in the house tonight. And I’m afraid.

I’ve never been the grownup at a slumber party before.

In about thirty minutes, a stream of preteen girls will be entering our small townhouse. I bought $60 worth of decorations, $25 worth of junk food, $17 worth of Snickers birthday cake, and I’ll be ordering at least $20 worth of pizza after the girls finish swimming. I’ve blocked any show rated NC-17 or TVMA, and put a passcode on my pay-per-view. But still, I’m afraid.

I’m supposed to be the responsible party here? When did that happen? You know how much I love my kid? I made sure I was wearing sleeves so my largest tattoo wouldn’t show. And quite a few of my witches have been put up. Oh, you better believe my barbell is out of my tongue right now.

We live in the south. I’m afraid all these real grownups would shield their kids and run the other way if the knew the responsible party was a tattooed, pierced, pagan bisexual.

Coworkers suck

The local plant manager came upstairs to talk to the IT manager, and in the process, decided to camp at my desk. I just so happened to be processing everyone’s cell phone bills.

Me: Dude, you’ve got extra charges on your line this month
PM: Like what? I didn’t send any messages or anything
Me: Well, (flipping through the bill), it looks like there’s a downloaded game on your line.
PM: Oh no there’s not!
Me: Um, it’s right here…
PM: But I got a new phone this month, and I had to put the game back on there I had. I’m not paying for it again.
Me: A game doesn’t stay on the sim card, it stays on the phone
PM: But I shouldn’t be charged for it since I already paid for it! And (the IT Manager) said
Me: Why are you downloading games on the company phones anyway?
PM: I explained this last month, for when I sit there waiting in the airport

Sidebar – he’s the *local* plant manager. He travels for work maybe once a quarter, but he keep his primary residence out of state

Me: Read a book!
PM: I don’t have time to read a book! I am NOT paying for that! They shouldn’t have charged me for it again!
Me: When you downloaded it, you got to the screen that said you agreed to the charges
PM: I’m NOT paying for it!
Me: *eyebrow*
PM: (My boss) said that I shouldn’t have paid for it last time

Sidebar – which is bullshit, since his boss’s boss set the policy to be not charging for texts, but charging back the employee for ringtones and games

Me: Get out of my chair.
PM: I’m waiting for (the IT Manager)
Me: Go wait over there then.
PM: But he doesn’t have an extra chair
Me: Then stand by the door. Get out of my chair.

And mom wonders why I won’t call

My baby sister called her on Saturday, to wish her a Happy Early Mother’s Day, since they were going out of town and might not have reception at the lake

GG (my baby sister): So am I the first one to call this weekend?
Mom: Of course *sigh* You know your sisters. So, Jodi -
GG: Mom, It’s Angela.
Mom: Oh! Well, then, nevermind that part about your sisters.

Jodi is the sister in between us, the one that’s been hospitalized, arrested, gave up her kids, got knocked up first at 14, etc. But she’s the one Mom had on purpose. After my dad died, she confessed to lying to my dad about taking her pill, but she now denies it. GG and I don’t speak to her. I haven’t in long time, but my baby sister finally gave up last year after the cops were called when Jodi attacked her. There’s only so many times you can try to help before, for your own sanity and well-being, you just have to cut ties. My mom just puts on her blinders and pretends Jodi’s living a normal life. Well, maybe for Mom, it might not be that much of a stretch.

I remember Jodi calling my sister’s house, bawling like a baby. This was about five years back, and I just happened to be there. GG handed me the phone. Jodi was going on about how she hadn’t seen her younger son in a week because she didn’t have a car. To put this into perspective, she lived about six miles away from where he was, at his grandmother’s. I told her that if it were me, I would have fucking walked – nothing would have kept me from my baby. She said she couldn’t get a real job. I told her they hired retards and retirees at McDonalds. (sorry for the wording, but it was necessary then)

Is it odd that I don’t know if I love her? She’s almost three years younger than me, but because of my size, we were always compared as twins. I know that must have been a lot to take. I’ve always said, I got the brains, Jodi got the looks, and GG got the personality. And Jodi was a knockout. But it got her in over her head. At 13 she looked 18. Me, at 18, I looked 13.

When I think back, I really don’t see anything positive from my relationship with her. I wish I could say I had happy memories, but I really don’t. My baby sister, well, I’ve posted it before, I’m getting her butt back to Texas so I can take care of her. She and I have such similar values when it comes to raising our kids, and our views on life. And I can truly say she’s the only woman I can live with. I know they’ll be some problems – it happens with anyone living together. But she’s mi famiglia. My blood. There’s the Sicilian in me coming out.

I did break down and call my mom Sunday. It was painful. I gritted my teeth through her coversation about Jodi’s son’s grades, and how my Aunt won’t call her either, even when Grammie ended up back in the hospital. She went on and on too, about how Grammie wants her to just make up with my Aunt, but she flat out called my Aunt a bitch to my Grammie. And then told me that even though Grammie’s really sick, she’s still doing her “tricks,” though, for the record, those are not the same as Jodi’s.

And they say history repeats itself. Guess it’s a circle of life kinda thing, huh?

Random snippets of the week

My birthday blew, but I think I might really be mature enough to handle it now. There are no more circus-themed parties, funny hats, or candles to blow out. There was an email from my mom on Tues wishing me Happy Birthday. Then a call on Weds singing Happy Birthday. Then the call on Thurs saying, I think it really is the 11th now, right?

On the plus side, I got carded at the liquor store Weds night. I looked at the guy, probably my age, and said, you want to see my id because I’m using a credit card, right? He grinned and asked if he could put his phone number on the back of my receipt. I thought he was kidding. I walked out beaming anyway, because he thinks I look under 30 at least! I bought a Youngs Double Chocolate Stout, but it still tasted too much like beer to me, so it went down the drain. But not before letting Miss Amy take a sip. The look on her face was worth a million bucks. She said, “why do people DRINK that STUFF?” I also have a Youngs Oatmeal Stout in the fridge, and from my Freaky Canadian’s suggestion, I’m adding it to a beef stew this weekend.

Boss and I went to Bennigans today for lunch, to split a Monte Cristo. This was dessert. We were laughing like school kids at the poor thing. What it seemed like was someone took it out of the freezer, then re-froze it, then served it to us. It was a solid frozen block. My food-service friends will love to know that we still tipped well, since I really don’t think it was the server’s fault. And even though we couldn’t eat it, we did very much enjoy the moment.

Brody’s worn his big-boy underwear two days in a row. The motivation – PS2 Pooh Bear. I was seriously giving up hope.

Work situation keeps getting scarier. I think I posted that the VP finally decided that my boss should indeed have the controller position, and that they would look for a Director of Finance above her, to do the travelling bit. And I know I mentioned that right now there’s only two of us doing all the accounting work for the US plants. Well, today, he took it back. It’s all suspicious on the part of the new HR director. Today they told her that she would stay as Assistant Controller, and oh, btw, we’re taking on Canada’s accounting functions as soon as next week. Seems the Assistant Controller up there has had a bit of a breakdown. She’s been with the company for 30 years now, but finally flipped, hip-checking a csr into a desk in a fit of not-so-passive agressive retaliation. The plus – my boss did say she’d put in the request for a raise for me when I take over payroll, as soon as two weeks from now.

Also, we are losing our other long-timer here in Dallas. After thirteen years, she’s finally had enough of the new management too. Me, I’ve only been there a little over two years, but what it looks like is that anyone who was there before the VP is at risk. As long as my boss is still there though, I am too. If I lose her, I’m screwed.

I am a dumbass. I talked to my current landlord this week, and was informed that my lease is NOT up the end of this month like I was thinking, but the end of July. I called my sister, saying, Pensacola, we have a problem! and told her what was up. That means, no, I’m not moving back to Denton right now.

What else? It’s nice enough right now that I think we’re going swimming tomorrow after, or maybe before we hit the library.

I have a secret to tell you to make you squee. I haven’t told you before cause I didn’t want you to think that I was creepy poser chickie. My maiden name starts with an M and ends with an S. My dad was raised in East Texas, and really didn’t know the West Texas side of the family. However, he did meet his cousin Lloyd on at least once occasion, and we had all the M****S Brothers Band albums signed in our house, that my dad played on a regular basis. I have never met my cousin in person, but my daughter made a group of people at Lilith Fair ‘99 go WTF? when she asked, very loudly, “Is that your cousin on stage, Mommy?” (BTW, that was the day I got to meet Sarah and got all fan-girl and speechless).