Category Archives: Freaking Out

so, pretty much a waste of a week. last monday I had the whole oral surgery thing, then just as I was coming out of it on thursday, the stomach virus hit, resulting in day-long pukage. then this monday a nasty fight with one of my brothers (more on that later), followed promptly by a raging UTI.

stress much? sheesh.

so I looked and discovered that mars is going into retrograde for a few months. brilliant.

slow down and get used to the crazy, folks.

coming up: check out my latest decision to be a grownup and tell my brother exactly what I think of him.


Filed under Freaking Out, Frustration, Weirdness

it’s a good thing i don’t own a gun.

wow, daniel is the biggest dumbass on the planet.

he did something so incredibly stupid, so embarrassingly irresponsible while the kids were with him last month that i’m rendered speechless. aghast. agape. agog.

the fact that he made them promise not to tell me about it says a lot. i’m not sure i’m prepared to talk about it here, but suffice it to say, it is the mothership of stupidity and cluelessness in a parent.

i’ve talked with friends and lovers, consulted with joe, my fuckbuddy-cum-attorney, and cleaned my house in frustration and freaked-outedness.

it is very disconcerting to realize that, even though every second of every day the possibility of something terrible happening to one of your children exists, and i understand and respect that, mine are disturbingly unsafe when they’re with their father.

he is consistently raising the bar for stupidity in parenting, and this time it involved child endangerment and the police (the motherfucking police!) in his city, whom i’ll be phoning tomorrow to get to the bottom of the most disturbing words i’ve ever heard my children say.

and they’ve been known to drop f-bombs. just saying.


Filed under Divorce, dumbassery, Freaking Out, Kids, Parenting

Seven Things

1. Jack and I spent three hours in the ER last Sunday getting his chin stitched up after he smashed his face into the jungle gym. It was Power Ranger related.

2. My mom the nurse is taking the stitches out today. In a couple hours.

3. The boys are with their dad and stepmother and new* baby brother at the hotel.

4. I am too hungover for the work I have to do this weekend and next week. Projects loom. Big projects. Huge.

5. Coffee is good.

6a. My children’s stepmother is, while a bit overly protective of her son, a nice person.

6b. My ex is a dumbass who brushed his fingers down my arm in that weird way when we were alone and loading things in at the trunk of the car.

7. Ew.

* The baby is almost a year old, but this is the first time they’ve seen him

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Filed under Divorce, Freaking Out, Kids, Parenting, Stories, Weirdness


It’s just getting longer: The To-Do List. I’m looking at the sheet of paper divided into three parts: What to pack, what to buy, what to do. All before I leave in five days while also cleaning my house, keeping up with laundry, packing the boys’ bag for the time I’m gone, not to mention seeing the clients I’ve got scheduled and a few more who will call Monday and Tuesday, I’m sure.

Of course I’m procrastinating. Of course I will also need to make arrangements for transportation to and from the airport. Shit, I just remembered about that. Sucks to live in a place where that is such a big deal. Stupid farmland.

I’m excited about the visit, but anxious about the scheduling. I want to spend time with everyone and I know that someone will be left feeling shafted. Not in the good way.

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Stupid terrorist plots.

I wonder if I can survive five days without my face wash and moisturizer.

Cos I’m telling you now, there’s some fucked-up shit going down for it to be okay for me to travel with my knitting needles and scissors on a flight, but be forced to check my Aloe & Citrus face wash.

Seriously, you can even travel with up to 4 oz of “personal lubricant.” No cleanser, though. Must find a way to avoid Baggage Claim at LaGuardia if it kills me.

Balls. Fucking balls.

(Actually, I’d better leave those at home, too.)

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I’m totally scattered this week. Trying to get lots of work so my trip to NYC is as carefree as possible, trying to finish three knitting projects so I can start another yummy bag, looking online for the gorgeous yarn which will make said yummy bag, all while feebly attempting to catch up on blogging and writing for cash.

Uh huh. You’d think I’d just chain myself to the computer and write the damn stories. I want too much. And I think, “Just 10 more minutes of knitting and I can finish this section!” “I can pick up gifts for New Yorkers tomorrow.” “It’s really okay that my bed is covered with balls of yarn and stitch holders and knitting instructions because it is Fall and I am the organizer of the moms knitting group.”

We met today for the first time, me and another mother, at her house. It was built in 1845. It was incredibly messy. For some reason, I love seeing how messy other peoples’ homes are. I envy them the ability to not obsess about it. I always feel like my house is unbearably messy. It totally isn’t.

I think it’ll be fun next week, when we have a couple other moms (previous commitments today) join us. Then maybe I won’t end up talking so much about myself. I’ve determined to not reveal much personally at these things. Especially since I’m secretly dating Bendy Daddy, who is known to them all.

Of course, next week will be the day before I leave for NYC. Try keeping that kind of excitement under wraps. Maybe by then I’ll be closer to wrapping up Clapotis. Focus!

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Filed under Freaking Out, Knitting