I got the job! I start on Monday. I am grateful and thankful. It's basically a desk job with a lot of benefits and paid holidays, so hopefully I'll love it.

My darling.

My darling.
Originally uploaded by buffpuff

I managed to upload some more photos today, including some of the other wedding we photographed a few weekends ago.

Still waiting to hear about my background check at my possible new job. Keep crossing fingers.

Bulldoodle.

I tell you, things just continue to get crazier and crazier around here.

I haven't heard back from my job people yet; they said it would take five days to get the background check back and that was on Wednesday.

Jason's ex-wife is trying once again to squeeze some money out of us, and now she's trying to talk him into commiting tax fraud in order to get it. These people beat all, I have to say. She still seems to think that we should give her half of our stimulus check that we got this year, as well as child support for May, June, and July, and Jason can just "claim the kids on your taxes again this year" and pay what we "owe" out of it.

The reality is that our lawyer reassured us months ago that they aren't entitled to any of the stimulus money no matter how hard she tries to make it seem like she is. The kids lived with us in May, so even if we were supposed to be paying child support for some of the summer it wouldn't be for May. If a judge orders us to pay child support for June and July I will totally jump on board BUT I AM NOT DEALING WITH ANY OF THIS UNDER-THE-TABLE, JUST-BETWEEN-US BULLSHIT FROM TWO CRAZY PEOPLE WHO ARE UNPREDICTABLE, GREEDY, RUDE, AND SCHEMING.

As far as the tax stuff, she's been frauding social security for several years and she knows that if we end up in court that will come up, so I figure she's just trying to come up with a way to get Jason in trouble, too. SUCK IT, FOLKS. I've said it before, I'll say it again, and last week I said it to a 22-year-old dude who works at Citifinancial: You cannot squeeze blood from a turnip. If you haven't made the intellectual leap yet, what I'm saying is we currently have $45 in the bank and exactly one week before we'll be getting any more money.

We have no money. There is no money. You aren't getting any money.

We will continue paying child support just like we have been since August, the month that SHE chose for us to start paying child support again. But anything else will have to be settled by our lawyers and a judge in court.

Mark: comments?

So I have just this morning accepted a job offer. I hesitate to feel totally comfortable about it because now they're starting a background check which "may include a credit check". I've missed job opportunities before because I have terrible credit, whichs is mostly due to my losing my job at the college and then losing my last job at the flower shop.

There is so much drama in the world right now, and so much drama in my life. Besides the daily grind- being unemployed, begging for jobs, being in foreclosure, being in collection with most of our debts, having no money, etc.- there is a lot going on right now, enough that I have trouble keeping up with everything and everyone and how I'm supposed to handle all of it.

I don't get a lot of good rest these days. I'm usually thinking, worrying, calculating; my brain doesn't stop long enough to really be calm. Maybe soon. Maybe I'll get this job and we can all find a little peace.

Finally!

First dance.
Originally uploaded by buffpuff

I was finally able to upload some stuff to my flickr today, courtesy of my mom and her ability to deal with my kid while I spend an hour at the computer.

Congratulations, Adam and Laura.

187 on a motherfuckin'...

I am still attempting to get some photos uploaded. We brought our iMac to the library on Thursday but we couldn't get it to connect to the internet. Now I have them burned on a disc but the library computers have the disc drive disabled. THANKS, PUBLIC LIBRARIES OF AMERICA, FOR FUCKING UP MY DAY.

I attended a pretty wild party last night with old friends, new friends, and everything in between, and I have to say that we are still cool enough to have the cops called on our parties. Because that's how you measure cool: by how angry you can make your neighbors.

Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?

I just got done with a job interview. I'm feeling pretty good about it. This is the third job interview I've had since I left my last job, the third job interview I've had in three-and-a-half months of being unemployed, of actively seeking employment. It's certainly the best interview I've had in a while; I felt competent and the fellows who interviewed me were enthusiastic. At one point my interviewer said, "So you're not currently employed. So I guess you could start.." I interrupted, "TOMORROW." They got a laugh out of it. Little do they know that I've been eating cans of black beans for months. At least I like black beans, so it's not that bad.

I sold two items on my Etsy this morning. GOOD THINGS ARE HAPPENING, PEOPLE. Today I'm looking up, for a change.

Coming soon: wedding photos, positivity, and good news, let's hope.

Once more with feeling.

I'm still here; still no internet at home.

I am currently sitting at a library computer at which my mother found a little plastic baggy. She held it up between thumb and forefinger and said, "Now I don't know what this is. For all I know it could have contained COCAINE."

I can just imagine some Leedsite sitting contentedly at this very computer, doing lines off the mousepad.

Jason and I have polished off two more weddings. I'm just awfully excited; they both went so well. I can't wait to update our portfolio. If you know anybody who needs a photographer for a wedding or portraits of their kids or pets or engagement photos or band photos, please pass our names along. We'll probaby be able to get some photos uploaded on Thursday.

I realize my posts have been a little off lately. I think of good stuff to write about when I'm sitting on my couch at home, not when I'm sitting in front of a library computer. Ah, well. Sucks to your asmar.

Well, I figured after my woe-is-me update from yesterday, I should add something positive.

Last weekend we photographed a wedding of a friend that I haven't been able to spend nearly enough time with over the past few years. The wedding was really lovely, and I think we did a great job. I'm really excited; I think these pictures are some of the prettiest that we've ever taken. As soon as we deliver to the new couple I'm going to post some here.

We're photographing another wedding this weekend, which means more practice and a little more money- both very good things. I hope we can do as well this weekend as we did last weekend.

As much complaining and fretting as I so around here, I'd like to say thanks to everyone who is still reading. I love you guys. Keep reading.

Ah, a year's worth of posts.

This is my 365th post. If you start reading my blog today and read one entry per day it will take you one year to read the whole thing. Of course, I'll keep posting, so it will actually take you longer, so it's actually meaningless.

Anyways, this post is coming from my Mama's house as our internet has finally disappeared. Phone and cable had been cut off long ago but the internet stayed; I assumed we were picking up someone else's wifi. Alas, no it's gone, so our internetting will be few and far between.

This week I am working on another article for Lipstick and continuing the job hunt.

Also, it appears that my check card has been stolen. I have no idea when it happened as we've had so little money I haven't even attempted to use it in about two weeks. Now it's suddenly not in my wallet.

I'm glad bad things rarely happen to us, so when bad things like this happen I can manage to be all, "Oh, well. It's not that bad. At least the rest of my life is going swimmingly."

I am consumed again with worry about the same thing I was worried about for most of the spring and summer: Kane and Jude.

A couple of experiences that were relayed to Jason by a family member have him panicking about sending them back to their mom's house; he's worried that he made the wrong decision, that Kane and Jude will be harmed somehow by that decision.

I feel sad that Jason is so worried, because I know exactly how he feels: I have often wondered and feared if it was a bad idea to send them back with their mom. She and her husband have a lot of problems, and I am only referring to the obvious, clear problems that we can see that they have. There is no telling what all is going on under the surface that we don't even have a clue about.

Now our lawyer is getting messages from their lawyer asking when we are going to "make arrangements" to pay child support. It isn't clear if he is referring to current child support or backed child support. If it's current, we've been paying it, and either their lawyer doesn't know what he's doing or they are lying to him and telling him we haven't been paying. If it's backed child support, I can't believe anyone is still discussing it. While I am begging for a job, any job, and praying for unemployment, they are driving to Texas to buy SUPER-FANCY ULTRA-LIGHTWEIGHT JEEP DOORS, for Pete's sakes. DRIVING TO TEXAS IN A GAS-GUZZLING JEEP for new doors, for fuck's sakes. I can't get over it, so just don't expect it.

Anyway, this life just keeps getting scarier and more bizarre every day, and I don't see any signs of it returning to normalcy. Lindsey and I often joke that this, this right here, this is just our lives now, and we should just get used to it.

I just don't know. I am still seeking employment to absolutely no end whatsoever, while the kids' mom and step-dad don't have to work, will never have to work, on account of they're too crazy to. Yet they feel like this makes them better candidates to raise the kids because they can "devote 24 hours a day to the children".

It's all a mess, and it's making me feel ill. Maybe I need to seek lessons on making the government think I'm too crazy to work. At least I know where to look for them.

Originally uploaded by buffpuff

We took Reed to the zoo for the very first time yesterday. He REALLY loved it. We only got around to about half of the zoo; he is a little person with short legs, plus it was hot we were sweaty, so after about two hours he asked if we could go home.

I have come down with the plague, complete with sinus headaches, chest pain, and mouth-breathing.

These past few days I've spent a lot of time with a couple of girls who I don't see very often. I'm sorry for the circumstances, but thankful for the closeness. It has been really nice.

I watched the presidential debate last Friday with friends, and we all raised our eyebrows or chuckled or pishawed at the same parts. I particularly enjoyed how McCain's eyes bug out when he gets pissed off. This Thursday we're watching the V.P. debate with the same folks, and I'm excited about it.

Still no job-offers. FOR THE LOVE OF SHIT. I did, however, get to visit wonderful Bug Tussel, Alabama today. I want to move there.

Hodge podge.

I have several things I'd like to get to in this post, so this one is going to be a bit all-over-the-place.

First, I am very, very sad and worried for someone that I love who has just experienced a death in her immediate family. This past several months have been overwhelming, I imagine, and this probably seems like more of a load than you can bear. Don't forget to lean on the people around you who love you when it feels like too much for you. I love you so much, and I know a lot of other people who love you so much, too.

Next, I have been without cable for some time, and for whatever reason we can't really pick up any of the local channels either. Besides all the ridiculous sitcoms and out-of-touch-with-reality medical dramas that some people in this house have been despondent to be missing, we also haven't been able to watch many of the current political dramas. I realize that stuff like that can be viewed on the internet, but I spend so much time job-hunting on the internet that I usually am sick of it by the time there is a moment for anything else.

Point is, this post from Dooce contains a video that makes me simultaneously want to claw my own eyes out and throw my computer out the window. Of course I had already heard about most of this, but just now is the first time I've actually watched it. Mind-boggling.

In similar news, I may be going to drink beer and watch the debates tonight. Look at me taking part! I am impressing myself.

Mining for gold.

Poor Reedy. I'm afraid that he might have walking pnemonia, but I'm not sure. I'm thinking I'll pick him up from school early today and let the doctor check him out.

We had a fun trip to the emergency room with him last Friday night: he grabbed my flat iron when it was blazing hot. He REALLY freaked out for about an hour; about the time we got up to the burn unit at Children's Hospital he calmed down. He was such a grown-up, showing his hand to the doctors and nurses. They were all wowed by how calm, sweet, and cute he is. Now all that's left is a couple of watery blisters, and they're almost gone.

We took Reed with us to Kane's open house at his new school not long ago. I never ceases to amaze me how impressive he will suddenly be in situations like that. At home we're still having writhing fits and screaming fits and crying fits. Then he goes out into public and sits still and smiles and acts right. The best part was during one of the teacher's talk about her class and her expectations, Reed suddenly wanted to get up, go stand directly in front of Kane's mom and stare at her while smiling intensely and picking his nose. He had that finger about 3/4 of the way up his nostril, grinning like a pig in shit and going to town. It made me happy.

One must remember to take pleasure in the little things, musn't one?

Don't hate the player- hate the game.

I'm not really sure how to respond to this comment; it's really all over the place.

First, I'm sure that A and B are connected. Most feelings, opinions, and ideas people have are interconnected.

Second, I wasn't raised to think that "evil controls the world" and I was CERTAINLY not raised to think that I am powerless. I was raised to understand that just because someone is the president, or a senator or governor, or a politician in general doesn't mean that they are a good person, or a smart person, or that they have people's best interests at heart. For a lot of people that is a no-brainer, but let's be honest: there are people who don't realize that.

Third, my feelings of depression, anger, helplessness and doom grew out of a nasty case of post-partum depression. They may be deep-seated, but they don't stem from the way I was raised. I wouldn't say that I have ever been perfect, but I can say with total certainty that until after I had a baby I had never felt totally hopeless, never felt like my life might never change, never felt that I might feel this awful forever and that it might effect my family, my relationships, my ability to cope.

Fourth, I think I heap a generous helping of blame on myself as well as other things that I can control. Besides those two crabby dudes that hang out in the balcony on the Muppets, no one lives inside my head and therefore most people aren't aware of all the many things I blame on myself, and all the effort, the sheer infinity of mantras and prayers and notes that I make to remind myself to fix mistakes and stay on track and make things better for my family, my friends, and myself. And I guess all I can say is that it's working okay. I'm not great, but I'm not dead, and that's a good thing.

Thanks for your questions.

How's anonymous internet-hating working for you?

Schmeitgeist.

Oh, Lordy.

I know that I start a lot of posts that way these days, but I seriously go about my day thinking that phrase, shaking my head, and taking deep breaths.

I finally watched Zeitgeist with Jason today.

Let me just say that he's been talking/raving/freaking out about this movie for a couple of months now. I refused to watch it for this long for a couple of reasons:

A) I have always hated the government, resented it, understood how duped we all are. I don't know everything and there was certainly a lot of stuff in this film that I didn't know, but at the basis of all my thoughts and curiosities has been that the government=bad. I was raised by MY MOTHER, for shit's sakes; if you know me, you know what that means.

B) I've been having a rough time with depression, anger, and hopelessness over the last few months. Now is not the time for a movie that shows me every way in which I am stupid, every way in which I am doomed, every way in which all the bad things that happen to and in this country are the fault of THIS COUNTRY, or at least the the fault of the powerful few at the top of this country.

I didn't really have much to say after it was over. I was just kind of, "Yep. That's what I thought- that I would want to crawl under the bed after I watched it."

If anyone else wants to feel the need to crawl under the bed, you really should watch it. Also I'm absolutely aware that one musn't believe everything one hears/reads/sees on the internet. Let's just say that a lot of this hit awfully close to ideas that I've had before. It's all just a little overwhelming.

In other news I just want to say that someone I love very much found out that he has Crohn's disease. I just wanted to say that I'm thinking about you and I know everything will be okay.

Chapel day.

Chapel day.
Originally uploaded by buffpuff

Today was Chapel Day at Reed's school, and my baby wore a tie for the first time.

Of course I'll be borrowing it soon- I can wear it with my white tank top and my Doc Martens. I just need to get some black nail polish.

I can't imagine.

Oh, Lordy. Communicating with the folks at the unemployment office is like being from Alabama and trying to communicate with that little guy who calls me from India about my Mastercard bill: difficult, to avoid using any expletives. So I'm still waiting to find out if I'm going to get any money for not having a job. Shouldn't one get paid for not working? I should think so. At least then I can get our cable cut back on, therefore providing myself with something to do with all this free time.

As it is I am washing, washing, washing clothes and sheets and socks and towels and the cat and my armpits and the dishes and my car and the bills and anything else that repulses me.

Kane and Jude stayed with us this weekend and they are just as smart-assed as usual. So at least their mom and step-dad haven't managed to FUCK that up yet.

In other news, my kid is an even bigger smart-ass than his brothers. It's like God said, "Okay, let's, just for fun, take all the smart-ass Kane and Jude got, and all the smart-ass Jason and Buffy got, and smush it together, give it blonde hair and a fucking cute smile and see what happens."

What happens is I almost die, every day, either from the cute overload that occurs in my house every single day or from the gouging of my eyes with screwdrivers after Reed gleefully shouts "WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"

And, really, where the FUCK is he getting all this awful language?

This is a great idea. If I ever again have money, I might order one of these. Or I bet my mom or Jason could do it.

And here is something to make you laugh today. Thanks, Lindsey.

Card shark or card sharp?

So when I cleaned out the boys' room last week I found something interesting:



Have you ever wished that you had some metal playing cards with sharp, knife-like edges all around?



Have you ever wished that you could find something really inappropriate to give your children?



Have you ever felt like you didn't have enough ways to end up with your kid in the emergency room?



Do you need a nice visit from DHR? You should contact Kane and Jude's mom and step-dad. They've got ideas.

Two is just as sad as one; it's the loneliest number since the number one.

Yesterday was the second birthday of this blog.

This has been a really good year, where "good" equals "didn't kill myself", "learned how to ignore murderous impulses", "tuned out the writhing fits", or "drank during the day".

I really have learned a lot about myself; unfortunately a lot of the avenues that got me to that knowledge involve things I don't like to write about here. You know how I very rarely write about my marriage except to make jokes about how Jason must be high to be able to deal with me? That's because I love my marriage, love my husband, and Jason does not want to read on the internet about how his snoring makes me want to shove all his dirty socks up his nose. So I don't write about it.



Suffice it to say that my marriage has survived- it is just like life, or raising kids, or going to work, or doing heroine. It can be excruciating, but that doesn't mean you'd be better off without it.

Reed is a little boy.



His school has just started requiring all the students except infants to wear uniforms. He wore his new "golf-ball shirt" (a golf shirt) to school with khaki shorts for the first time this morning, and Jason said he was very grown-up, very serious about his shirt, walked by himself to the door and kept smoothing the shirt and picking off lint balls. He'll be three in three months. I can't even comprehend it.

This past year has been a really hard one in the Jason's Ex-Wife arena. She decided that the kids should move back in with her and her husband whom she met in the psych ward. Then she decided that the kids need their father and therefore ought to stay with us. Then she decided that we should go back the original divorce agreement. Then she decided that we ought to pay her backed child support for the three years that the kids were living with us. Then she decided that she wouldn't be providing any transport for her kids any more; if we want to see them we must pick them up from her apartment and then drop them off at her apartment. Then she informed us that we were not to contact her ever and if we had questions or concerns we would call her husband. Then "someone" left some bizarre comments on my blog posing as Mark Dutton, an attorney. Then she dropped it and decided that we don't have to pay backed child support. Then she started contacting us again even though she expressly said that she would not be in contact with us any further.

Confused? TAKE A NUMBER, BUDDY.

Jason and I have given in to the Evil Lord Wal-Mart- we sincerely refused to shop there for the longest time, but my most recent bought with unemployment has reduced us to shopping there. It is three minutes up the road and everything is slightly cheaper than my one true love, Target.

That's another thing that's happened in the past year: I lost my job. AGAIN. I didn't write much about it because it is at once humiliating, terrifying, hilarious, sad. There's really not that much to it. I dealt with a lady throwing boxes at me and screaming the f-word for a year and a half, and I dealt with her Event Coordinator asking me how big my husband's penis is, and then she fired me for staying home with my kid when he was sick. The world is a balanced place, eh?

I've been writing and getting published in Lipstick Magazine, which is fabulous. I've also been making a lot of jewelry that I'm really proud of.



My good friend John moved back from New Orleans.



I have a couple of projects in the works, including a redesign of this blog. We've worked on it some, but then we found some booze so the blog is on the back-burner for a minute. I've been talking with Jason and some friends about starting a magazine, as well as something exciting involving being drunk and making videos.

More on that later. Aren't you excited?

Spring cleaning, delayed.

I gave myself the task of totally cleaning out Kane and Jude's room yesterday. It was my "I don't have a job, I don't have shit to do, what of it?" assigment.



They cleaned it before they left last time, and they "made" their beds which really just means they piled all the sheets and covers on top of the beds. The picture above is what it looked like after I changed the sheets, MADE the beds, and swept everything out from underneath them. I can't express to you what a mess it was- popsicle wrappers, cracker wrappers, pretzels, q-tips, dirty socks, clean shirts. And in their drawers and closets every kind of clothing was shoved into every kind of place. I am a square: I think that socks and underwear belong with other socks and underwear, jeans hang in the closet, marbles and Yu Gi Oh cards don't go with your t-shirts. Square.



I spent four hours yesterday cleaning and organizing their room. I threw away five full garbage bags full of shit, and donated one garbage bag full of clothes to Goodwill.



Afterwards I felt cleansed.



They still have toys, but they are where they belong. They have a much larger collection of books than I thought. They each have about 500 pairs of socks and underwear. There are actual empty shelves. I got rid of so much garbage that there are shelves with nothing on them.



I spent a long time just hanging out in their room yesterday, because it is now the cleanest room in the house. I think I might just move in to their room.



I have overhauled their room and Reed's room. Next is ours.

I have arrived.

This week I am just trying to stay calm as our situation gets worse and worse. I am still applying for jobs, still following leads, still "knocking on doors." THANKS, DAD.

I applied for unemployment last week. It took me two months and about 45 impotent job applications to get to this point. Hello, point. I'm here.

Old habits.

Bush Blvd Banksy 2
Originally uploaded by Dystopos

From what I understand, Banksy came through Birmingham a couple of nights ago and stopped long enough to leave this little ditty on the wall of an abandoned gas station in West End.

It's interesting because I immediately felt sort of embarrassed that this, a Ku Klux Klan member hung from a noose, is what comes to mind when passing through Birmingham for this gentleman. (I ran across this during my research- disturbing).

I was talking to Jason and I said, "Isn't he a little shit for automatically thinking that this is relevant in Birmingham in 2008?" I mean, I'm aware that racism still exists. I'm also aware that Banksy's artwork is a sort of cultural commentary, doesn't mean that the KKK is alive and thriving in Birmingham, doesn't even mean that he thinks the KKK is alive and thriving in Birmingham.

I also found several message boards with people pondering the same things I was, some more adamantly than others:

"Too bad Bansky didn’t leave some art that doesn’t hearken back to the Civil Rights movement; this is a pretty hackneyed theme in Birmingham these days, really, particularly from outsiders. I trust the lot of us have moved on, artistically speaking."

"Perhaps I’m not the intended audience, being a native of Birmingham born well after the Klan was beaten back into the shadows. I’m pretty sure I don’t understand the relevance of the piece. I do know that the black man who came over ask me about it while I was looking at the work didn’t appreciate it at all."

"There was no notion that banksy was saying the klan was "alive and well in birmingham" just the opposite if you look at the piece. He was making a historic and social comment on the south and the U.S. as a whole."

Interestingness. From what I'm reading, it's already been painted over. Such a disappointment.

My thanks to Dystopos for hopefully allowing me to use his photo on my blog. His was certainly the best photo I could find of the piece.

I haven't been sleeping well anyways.

Reed has learned how to climb out of his crib.

I cannot make a big enough deal about this, can't get across what a huge change this will mean for us. I'm pretty sure that he forgot almost as soon as he learned, but that means that we are that much closer to turning his bed into a big-boy-bed, that much closer to The End of Sleeping at Night for Mom. Like, POOF!- Now I lay awake at night listening for any noises that indicate that my child has padded into the bathroom and is drowning in the toilet. Or has wandered into the kitchen and is sticking his soft little hand down into the blender while pressing the "frappe" button. Or has gotten into mama's gin. MY GIN, REED. MY GIN.

Today I did something fun.

I donated a whole lot of hair to Locks of Love.



Here I am before I left this morning (with wet hair):



And here I am now (after much sweating and kid-wrangling):



Tomorrow I will style it and take more pictures.

I love the taste of phlegm in the morning.

This week I have a bronchial infection and it is very seriously sucking my will to live. Last night I coughed until I threw up. Yay, right?

The problem is that the only thing that makes me feel better is that perfect combination of Benadryl and cough syrup, which renders me nearly unconscious. I took it yesterday and felt much better, until I forced myself out of bed at 2:30 in the afternoon. This morning I'm thinking, "Okay, do I want to take the medicine and feel better and sleep all day long, or do I want to not take the medicine and feel awful but be able to be productive?" And then I'm like, "Who am I kidding? I've never been interested in being productive. I think I'll throw in a martini on top of the meds to give them that extra oomph."

So now I'm waiting for sweet, sweet unconsciousness and thinking about our money situation. It is bad, folks. There are a couple of things that may get cut off this week, plus we have to pay the child support, and we have about $250 in the bank.

I'm really trying hard to find something, anything, to bring some money into the house. I was really hopeful about this one job at Whole Foods, but they're hiring from the inside so no luck there.

It's really indescribably discouraging, this way that things are. I send out resumes all the time with cover letters explaining why I would be a perfect receptionist/office manager/executive assistant/copy editor/data entry person/ANYTHING THAT WOULD PAY ME; I am getting no phone calls.

For now I will just try to be thankful that at least I have the Benadryl.

When I first realized that I was really sick, Jason says to me, "Hey, look on the bright side: at least you don't have to call in." Small blessings.

Chris,

Good Lord, child, you are 27 years old. Happy birthday. Change your diaper.

I'm kidding. I love you dearly; I can safely say that I have never loved any of Kristi's boys as much as I love you. I think you are practically perfect in every way in that you are sweet, kind, sincere; you love Mexican food; you love my child; you can have a garbage can thrown at you and still want to be there the next day.



I have often thought lately how lucky I am to be best friends with Kristi, someone who is so like me and who I am so alike to. She and I have known each other a very long time; we have a lot of memories and good times to look back on, as well as to look forward to. I lucked out in falling in love with a man who Kristi loves and respects and likes being around. What is a surprising coincidence is that she fell in love with someone who is so oddly like my man. So it makes perfect sense that I would trust and respect you the same way Kristi trusts and respects Jason.



Chris, one of these days you will have children, and will be expected to be a role model.



Don't worry; Kane, Jude and Reed are all surprisingly normal, resilient, smart, confident, in spite of... some circumstances.



Chris, I hope you have a happy birthday. You certainly have someone wonderful to share it with. Thank you for being my friend, and for being a friend to my children. And thanks for moving closer, so that I may get drunk on your front porch at least once a week.



Love,
Buffy

Pot liquor.

Painting my toenails, doing laundry, wiping Reed's diarrhea-rear: these are the days of our lives.

Reed and I have some tiny virus that includes fever, tummy grossness, and general grumpiness, but I think it might be gone by tomorrow.

Our finances have finally reached a really awful, emergency point in which we can't afford to buy... well, anything.

Kane and Jude were here for the weekend and they both seem to be enjoying their new school. I just sincerely hope this has all been worth it, their moving back to their mom's house. I think it's probably best for them to be stable somewhere, to not change schools any more, so I hope everyone can just calm down and live life for a while.

Their mom and step-dad still inspire me to pluck the eyeballs out of my head: they send rude text messages, refuse to talk to us or make eye-contact (should they actually meet us face to face)- pretty much the usual. C'est la vie.

Jude started a Flickr if you're ever interested in the photographic talent of an intense nine-year-old.

Finally, I've been making some neat things for my Etsy lately. This one's called Mary Ramey, after my grandmother:

"Don't think the sun's comin' out today; it's staying in. It's gonna find a better way."

I think we really have to be out of our house in the next couple of weeks. This whole time I've been telling myself it's not that big of a deal, at least we're all healthy (if we don't count my being an absolute crazy person), at least we're surviving, etc.

I'm suddenly realizing how sad it is. We've lived here for three years now. It's the first house Reed ever lived in, the house we brought him home to. It's the house that Kane and Jude moved into with us. It's the first house that Jason and I moved into together. It's the first yard we've ever shared, the first yard that we watched Reed play in, the first porch we've ever had to spend time with our friends on.

In this house I've watched Reed grow from a teeny baby to a little boy. It is at once terrifying and beautiful and gut-wrenching and awe-inspiring, watching this person grow and learn and change, remembering that I grew him inside me and he was once a tadpole and now he runs and plays and laughs. In this house he learned to make jokes and share with his brothers (sometimes) and pick himself up after he falls.

In this house I have watched Kane grow into an adolescent, turn from a kid who watches cartoons into a near-teenager who... watches cartoons- just different cartoons. He's growing into a young man who likes to help me around the house and likes to watch his youngest brother and likes to help him learn and grow.

In this house I have watched Jude's continued evolution into a middle child, a kid who is too young to be a grown-up and too big to be a baby. He continues to amaze me with his ability to be a complete badass, to be like hanging out with one of my friends (Brock, I'm looking at you- argumentative, difficult, challenging, entirely too smart, physically dangerous).

In this house I've watched my marriage grow into something that I know with every particle of my being that I cannot live without. I've been reminded over and over again how much I need Jason, want him, respect him. I've felt myself continue to grow into a person who will never be at the center of her own universe again, to enjoy that separation from myself, to enjoy the people who have taken the place in the center. I've hoped and strived to fill the roles that I've made for myself here with these four other people. I've hoped and strived to be able to continue playing some part in the lives of the people who don't live here with me, the people who I count on to be there when I'm scared or lost, my extended family, my very best friends who I love so much.

And now we have to move and I'm just a little heart-broken about it. We'll make new memories one day in a new place and at least we have each other and thank goodness my mom is here for us and all that, but it's still hitting me kind of hard. I'm sure I'll get over it. It just takes a few hours to get myself back out of the center again.

Summer lovin'.

Summer is almost over around here in Alabama; usually we're still baking down here, but it has been uncharacteristically cool. Today has been grey, rainy, and dare I say chilly.

We are inching up on the two-year birthday of this blog, as well as my 365th post, which really just means that pretty soon if you start reading my blog you could read one post per day and it would take you one year to read the whole thing. Of course, that will only last for one day; as soon as I make my 366th post it will take you 366 days to read it.

You can see how much time I have on my hands these days.

In other news, I have just finished cleaning a poop log out of the bath tub. This is why you have kids, folks: because without them, you don't get to clean up nearly enough poop. Unless you have Myrna Minkoff. She provides poop to clean up as well.

"buffy agan blog leeds"

So it's been a while, but I thought I'd mention that I called Mark A. Dutton on August 1st (in reference to all of this). It was a very interesting conversation: turns out that he wasn't leaving those comments. He was, shall we say, nonplussed. We had a long talk about my blog and who might want to leave such bizarre comments. Did you know that it is a CRIME to sling around legal advice when you aren't a lawyer? Did you know that what so-and-so did there- not only pretending to be a lawyer but pretending to be a PARTICULAR lawyer- could constitute identity theft, and certainly constitutes fraud?

Anyways, Mr. Dutton was very happy that I brought it all to his attention. I have no idea if he intends to do anything about it, but I know that he can if he wants to.

In similar news, HELLO IP NUMBER 68.185.251.116! How are you out there in Pelham, Alabama? How is Charter Communications treating you? Do you enjoy using Internet Explorer on your Windows Vista system? Did you catch Lindsey's comment after all those comments that you left as Mark A. Dutton, specifically:

Every modem is assigned a unique number by their ISP. Blogger, in their infinite wisdom and foresight, God bless 'em, automatically and without fail logs each and every IP address associated with every single comment left on this or any other Blogger/Blogspot blog. Utilizing your IP address, which is freely provided to the blog owner by Blogger, the public at large is able to utilize the common knowledge reverse IP look up process in order to pinpoint just who, exactly, is leaving these comments, right down to something as minuscule and specific as their area code.

THE INTERNET IS NOT AN ANONYMOUS PLACE, PEOPLE. People seem to think they can do anything they want, such as impersonating a lawyer, and no one will ever know. People can see when you look at their web pages like you did this morning at 8:31 am right after you got the kids off to school, like you did at 10:03 pm last night right after you got the kids to bed. Does your wife know what you've been doing, or are y'all in on this together? Because you know, should we ever end up in court, this is like a freakin' GOLD MINE for our case.

To the rest of you, I love you guys and thank you for putting with up with all this crap. CRAP ON A BLOG. That's new, right?

To Pelham, enjoy searching "buffy agan blog leeds" and "buffy jason agan blog leeds" on Yahoo Search over and over again. Thank you so much for your support.

08.08.08

Stephanie,

You are one of the nicest, free-est, most sincere people I've ever known. You are a person who has actually inspired me to send a text that says, "Ooo, you're like the sun: chasing all the rain away." You have never hesitated to love me no matter what. You have never passed judgement on me. You have never made me feel like I might do something to make you love me less.

Oh, Steph, where do I start with you? When we threw bottles off of the fire escape at Watts? Skinny dipping at Green Valley? Showing our boobs for beers? Playing guitar and having sing-alongs on the beach in Pensacola? Or the billion other sing-alongs that we had a billion other places? Drinking games, hangovers, coffee, dinner, shopping, guitars, keyboards, snakes, kitties, mice?

Stephanie, getting married is a big deal; it works for some people and for others it doesn't. What I hope for you is that you've found a man who supports all of your dreams and quirkiness. I hope that he can give you the kind of life that will allow you to flourish, to really be. I hope that you cook dinner together every night with vegetables from your garden, that there is a vase of flowers from your yard on the table, and that one day there will be a crib with a tiny, wriggling little thing in it that you and James gaze lovingly at before you mix your evening cocktail.

And for the reality portion of this post: this is going to be very hard. You are going to have moments where you wonder who James is, wonder who you are, wonder where your brain was when you decided being married was a good idea. If there ever is a wriggling little thing you are going to wonder how you got that one, that one that cries and screams and says "no" and says "oh fuckin' damnit" and throws things and poops on the bathmat.

Wait, that's my life. Nevermind. Yours is going to be rosy and calm and I will be jealous forever. But if it ever should resemble mine, remember that you can call me and we can talk about it. I am imperfect as a woman, wife, friend, and mother, but I try very hard, and one thing that I can do well is listen. We can talk about the weather, or what we're making for dinner, or what makes us want to make our husbands sleep in the back yard while we quietly change the locks. Whatever you want. Because I have rain in my life, too, and you do chase all the rain away.

"Never had a care, just a livin' for the minute."

Yesterday I watched a Lifetime movie called Julie Johnson, starring Courtney Love and Lili Taylor. Lili Taylor is stupid and then she yearns and then she's gay and then she's smart and then she's lonely and then she's smart some more. AND ALSO THERE'S COURTNEY LOVE. Being gay with Lili Taylor. At one point I yelled, "They're making out!" and Jason trotted in from the other room just to take a gander.

Today I caught myself driving down the road singing "Way Down Yonder on the Chattahoochee". Singing along and knowing all the words made me, A) wish I was down on the river on a Friday night (self, I know thee not) and, B) remember fondly my teenage years. Not that I was down on the river on Friday nights then, but I knew that song then.

People, I cannot stress this enough: I NEED A JOB. To top it all off, I think this video is hilarious. Bitches.

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Finally, let's end this one with a heart-warming smile.

I'll have to remind Jason to shave...

I believe old Mark admitted defeat- he hasn't been back in a few days and things have quieted down. The human tendency towards lunacy never ceases to amaze me.

Kane and Jude's mom sheepishly accepting her first child support payment last Friday. Now we wait for the next time she decides to start threatening to sue for backed child support. Mark my words: it will happen again.

From what I understand they've been counting change over there; I do sympathize, as we've been in hard times of our own. Then again, we didn't move into an apartment we couldn't afford and buy a series of brand new cars including two sports cars and ending with a four-door Jeep that surely guzzles gas.

When the kids' step-dad called Jason at work a few weeks ago and ranted about everything under the sun, he included how much better of a provider he is for the kids, adding that Kane and Jude each have their own bedroom and their own cable tv at his house. I wonder how that's working out for him now? I'd like to add that Jason, God love 'im, immediately replied that he doesn't agree with them having televisions in their bedrooms. We limit the kids' tv-watching over here because we feel like it's better for their brains to, I don't know, play, and interact, ride bikes and ride skateboards and read- you know, all the old-fashioned, Amish-type stuff.

Anyhow, Reed still breaks my heart every day saying things like, "I miss Kane and Jude. Kane and Jude miss me. Can we go get them now?"

Lipstick has their August issue on the website now, but sadly they don't seem to include all the content from the magazine on the web. I DO have an article and some jewelry in the magazine; I can mail you a copy of you're out of Birmingham and want to take a look. Just drop me a line and let me know.

Life goes on, and I'm trying to keep up. I've been making loads of jewelry; I hope to have twenty or thirty new pieces up in the next few days. Jason and I are photographing a wedding this Friday, as well as making the groom's cake and being a bridesmaid. You can figure out which of us is doing what. Jason does look good in a dress.

I must have imagined my graduation in '97. And the subsequent college graduation in 2004.

I don't know if you've been keeping up with this, but it's really very interesting. I have a feeling that I and my ilk have inflicted so many fierce burns that he won't be back. However, you never can tell- it's my understanding that sometimes "Mark" goes off his meds, so there could be more to come. Stay tuned!

If you haven't checked out my Etsy lately, but I have lots of new things that I've just listed in the past couple of weeks. I sold something last night to someone in Tel Aviv- apparently the word is spreading far and wide.

The Lipstick Magazine with my article and my jewelry has come out and it's awfully exciting. Unfortunately they don't have the new issue on their website yet so I can't link it, but I will as soon as I can.

My good friend Lindsey has offered to help me redesign this blog, and I'm really excited about it. LINDSEY, I'M HOLDING YOU TO IT. So you might see some changes in the next few weeks.

This week brings more jewelry-making, job-hunting, and house-cleaning. I'M SO HOT ABOUT IT- especially since I have to accomplish all this without even the help of a GED. Man, I should have finished high school.

And finally, my poor deprived baby: he doesn't have his GED either.

It's okay to try again.

When I was a kid I was scared of the dark. Okay, I am still scared of the dark. But when I was a kid that meant sleeping with my parents. I slept with my parents much, much longer than is appropriate for any child; my mom would try and come and sleep with me in my room, but I would wake up in the night alone and go crawl into bed with her. They had a queen size bed and it could be a tight squeeze with my dad, my mom, and myself. I'm sure it was super for their marriage, having a huge wiggling nine-year-old desperate to sleep with them all the time. I remember at some point telling them that it sure was crowded, and when I got married they were really going to have to buy a bigger bed- true story. HA HA HA.

Eventually my parents divorced, and it was much more comfortable in that bed with just my mom and me in it. Now with the foreclosure and all of our financial problems we are moving into my mom's house, that same house that I grew up in. As it turns out, my mom is going to take a different bedroom and Jason and I are moving into the master bedroom. It just feels funny that I will be once again sleeping in that same room, the room where I felt safest for all those childhood years. I sure hope that I feel as safe there now.

Yesterday we met with our lawyer and then had a celebratory, take-a-deep-breath-and-stop-worrying lunch at the local Mexican restaurant. We are still trying to get things straightened out with Kane and Jude's mom. Jason made the decision that the kids could move back in with her and we'd go back to the original custody agreement, which is what she asked for. She rewarded us by threatening to sue for backed child support for the years when the kids lived with us, the years when we were doing homework and sending lunch money and field trip money and attending parent-teacher conferences. The saddest part is that I predicted this years ago, and here it is. Thanks for being predictable. It will be so satisfying for me to revel in my rightness while living in my cardboard box.

I still don't know what's happening with the house- if the foreclosure if definite or if there are options. There has been so much going on over the past few weeks that I haven't been very good at staying on top of things, at following through. So I just don't know.

Reed is just amazing. He woke up this morning and told me that he dreamed about going to the beach, going to the ocean. He wakes up smiling almost every day, and even though the day goes on to present fits and fights and disagreements and floor-writhing, that moment when I first peer into his crib and he looks up at me and smiles is magic. He told me yesterday in the car, "I love Kane and Jude. Jude always talks to me. But they at they mommy's house." I almost cried.

These days have been marathons, racing to get to the end of the day without bursting into tears. Some days I win, and some days I lose. I have been listening to this song a lot, because it makes me feel better.

Hot potato, hot potato.

Man, oh man. I don't think my fingers could even manage to type all the stuff that has been going on today. Let's just say, Courtroom, here we come. We're being harassed now via text message by Jason's ex-wife, and she's slinging around transparent threats and expecting us to start giving her tons of money for absolutely no reason. I can't really think of much to say besides something I said here about two weeks ago: When you figure out how to squeeze blood from a turnip, please let me in on your technique. I'm nearly certain that she reads this- everyone wave hi!

Job-hunting, jewelry-making, photography-planning, blog-writing, child-rearing. That about sums it up. I'm going to try very hard to have some interesting things to say here; right now I'm absolutely void of anything to type besides bad words.

The scariest thing I've ever seen:

From this Mental Floss article. You really should read it and check out the videos. I'm going to go hide in the closet with a bottle of gin and a shovel.

Thanks, Lindsey.

To do:

- Deposit our stimulus check which was as slow as Christmas getting here, but will probably be gone by the end of the week.

- Laundry, housework, etc.

- Decide what to wear for an interview tomorrow for a job that is literally about four minutes away from where I live.

- Start picking out my scooter for when I have said job and can drive a scooter to work. Also choose matching helmet.

- Start brainstorming a good gang name for when Jason and I both have scooters and ride them around. Shop for leather jackets to have gang name embroidered on.

I wave my arms, and swing my baton.

This last week, these last seven days, have been the hardest of my life. I do not exaggerate; I have never persevered so much rage, doubt, humiliation, self-hatred, sadness, impotence, and fear emanating from my own body in the entire 29 years of my existence as in this past week.

Now that this week is behind me I am ready to move on. Jason and I have all kinds of exciting ideas about vacations and jobs and loving each other. We are enjoying each other in ways that we have neglected for a long time (get your minds out of the gutter, kids), and I think if we can just focus on how important we are to each other, all the other bad stuff in our lives will seem less important by comparison.

My jewelry is officially for sale at Soca in downtown Homewood, and I'm working with Happi and hope to have my things for sale there as well. We're barreling towards August, when my jewelry will be featured in Lipstick Magazine, along with a nice article that I wrote about the fourth annual Birmingham Chicks Rockfest. Good things are happening, people.

Finally, an addendum to my prayer that I posted here a few weeks ago:

Please God, help me to be tactful, graceful, to remember who I am. Help me to hear Gordy Ramey saying it when I get lost. Help me to refrain from choking any bitches to within an inch of their lives. Help me to remember why it would be a bad idea to go to them with pictures of my children and ask them how much they enjoy toying with their happiness. Help me to be a lady, a sane lady, something with which I have absolutely no experience. Help me to take an awful situation and find and make the best use of all the good things that can come from it. Please God, help me to let it go like so much water off a duck's back. Help me to be sure, to stop questioning, to move forward hard and fast. Help me to start writing again at a time when all I can think to write about are things that I refuse to write about.

And God, please help my husband to remember that I am a crazy person, have always been a crazy person, was a crazy person when he met me. Help him to remember that I've never stopped loving him, even when I am at my most intolerable. What I'm saying is YOU'VE BOUGHT THE COW. NOW YOU HAVE TO LIE DOWN WITH IT IN YOUR MADE BED. What? Yes, that's what I mean.

Making your way in the world today takes everything you got.

This birthday was about half great and half shitty, with great being against all odds. My attitude and emotional status have been all over the place lately, from grief, shame, humiliation, and regret to optimism, happiness, and hope to rage and spitefulness.

We got our letter of foreclosure Saturday morning. I worried about it all day, and then went out for birthday dinner with several friends, and then headed back to Kristi and Chris' new place to drink birthday beer. It was nice to spend time with everybody; most of my favorite people were there.

I think living at my mom's house isn't the end of the world. It is one of those things that will work eventually, but will start out kind of stressful and uncomfortable.

I've been talking with the mortgage company today, and I think we have some options, some possibility of avoiding the foreclosure, which I am taking steps to move towards. I do feel like we can't possibly pay for the house, and whether the bank forecloses or we get out of the woods and then hand them the keys, we are going to have to get out. I wrote a long letter of hardship to send the mortgage company and realized we aren't irresponsible, we aren't bad people, this isn't all our faults. These past two years have been really, awfully hard; it's been one bad thing after another, including insurance disasters, plumbing disasters, employment disasters, custody and ex-wife disasters. The end result has been that the amount of money Jason and I bring in to the house has dwindled lower and lower, and the amount of money we need to be sending out has risen higher and higher. Unfortunately we just can't reconcile the two. Add to that the fact that Jason and I are both totally, absolutely stressed out 24 hours a day, and you got the recipe for a hot mess.

Things with Kane and Jude's mom is pretty much at a standstill. Jason occasionally gets text messages from her asking for money. I would like for her to know that as soon as she figures out how to squeeze blood from a turnip, she should give me a call. Or a text. Whatever.

Yesterday was my 29th birthday, and guess what I got? Foreclosure.

It's been a damn long time since we've been able to pay the mortgage, so it's not like it's a complete surprise. It's just that every payday, the money is gone before we get it, paying the daycare and the power and the loans etc. So here we are.

This weekend we start moving stuff into my mom's house.

On children's programming.

So Bunnytown is one of Reed's new favorite shows, and I think it's okay. We have been inundated with the Wiggles for the last several months, which I resisted for along time because of this atrocity right here.



I first saw this when I worked at a daycare in 2001. I was all "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS TRIPE THAT THESE KIDS ARE BEGGING TO WATCH? OH MY GOD. WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE I WAS WATCHING THE WALTONS AND YELLOW SUBMARINE." After a couple hundred days of watching the Wiggles, I now don't find them atrocious at all. I actually walk around singing several of their songs, and I occasionally look forward to watching them with Reed. I know that's all against God's plan and all, my wanting to watch stuff WITH him instead of utilizing random children's television to babysit him while I have my gin and a cigarette, but I've always gone against the grain. I tried to find one of my favorite songs they sing, the bricklayer song, but I found this beauty right here.



I am new to the Bunnytown stuff, so when I searched and found the following video I decided to post it because it is so similar to a certain someone's bedtime around here. We go through this almost every night of the week.

I'll need a matching helmet for my scooter.

It's a big weekend at work- we have several weddings on Saturday and a big in-house event on Sunday, so everyone is a little crazy here. I've gotten to the point at work where I despise my job, despise most of the people I work with. I start out on the defense in the morning, and it can only go downhill from there. I think I want to work in Leeds and drive a Vespa. I would be cute on a Vespa. I could get a sidecar for Reed. And Jason. Jason and Reed can be my bitches.

Reed has entered some kind of sudden-death terrible twos stage without warning any of us first. He can be as happy as can be and will suddenly be writhing on the floor screaming, red-faced, saying no to any suggestion we make (and I try everything- popsicles, trips to the store, toys, movies and tv, sandwiches, cashews, gold monkeys, EVERYTHING). It is got Jason and me both on edge.

I am showing my jewelry to a local boutique on Thursday and have high hopes. Here's to optimism.

If anyone is interested in reading my article that was in the July issue of Lipstick magazine, just click here, scroll down, and click on "Top 10".

My birthday is Friday, and we're going to celebrate it Saturday, but I need suggestions. Karaoke? Bar? Restaurant? Kristi's house (would that be okay, Kristi?)?

My best impression of what will send me to an early grave:

"MONEY MONEY MONEY! I WANT SOME MONEY! GIVE ME SOME MONEY! YOU PAY FOR IT! I WON'T PAY FOR IT! WHY WOULD I PAY FOR IT WHEN I CAN JUST SIT HERE AND SAY THAT I WON'T?! I WANT TO NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN AND GET PAID FOR IT! YOU TAKE 'EM AND AS LONG AS YOU'RE COMING BY YOU CAN JUST DROP OFF THAT CHECK! WHY WOULD I PAY FOR THEIR CLOTHES OR SUPPLIES OR FOOD?! WHERE IS MY GOD-DAMNED MONEY?! I'M GOING TO GET THERE LATE BUT WHEN I PULL UP YOU HAVE MY MONEY READY! MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY!"

Do you realize?

Originally uploaded by buffpuff

Last was we saw the Flaming Lips at City Stages. It was interesting and VERY, VERY LONG.

Today I managed to meet a deadline that I had started to think was a lost cause. Yay for small victories.

I have leads on several really good opportunities, and I'm trying to make myself follow them, even though most days I'm proud of myself if I manage to get out of bed in the morning. It's a stressful time right now, and I'm not handling it all very well. The nausea and flight instinct are mounting, getting bigger and badder and less ignorable.

I think we've made a pretty big decision, a huge one in fact, but I'm not going to go into detail yet. I will in the next couple of weeks- just not yet. You have no idea how badly I want to come here and write every single detail of every single aspect of my life, to tell you every feeling and fear and joy that crosses my mind, to list every moment of every day. But for one thing you don't want to read about what I had for lunch or how it made my toots smell. Secondly, some things need to be finalized before I get on here tirading about 'em.

Just know, anyone who may be reading this and thinking they in charge, WE MAKING THE DECISION. Jason and I have a life here; we're adults, and we've been doing a great job at some of the most important things in life. Now it's time to reevaluate for everyone's own good. And that's what we're doing.

"Happiness is when you really feel good with somebody..."

Well, things are changing all the time- feelings, opinions, options, desires, pleasures, pains, illnesses, favorites, irritations- and I can't keep up. I am trying to just breathe and eat Rolaids and pretend our lives are normal and calm.

Tonight I am going to see Al Green- surely all I need is a little love and happiness...

Sheboygan.

Holy moly, this life is a hard one. Today I just can't seem to wake up. My head has been hurting, and my eyelids have been drooping pretty much all day. It just seems like there is too much, too much to do, too much to think about, too much to talk about, too many phone calls to make.

We saw our lawyer again today. We can expect a court date in the next few weeks. I still can't believe that she is pushing this, that she wants to go to court and talk in front of all those people about her personal business. But hey, if she's ready, I definitely am. Nerve-wracking, expensive, necessary. I have to say that I'm glad we have actual legal counsel and aren't relying on random internet crap as our source of information. JUST SAYING.

This, work, marriage, money, cars, kids, it's enough to really make a person turn it all over to God. And Natural Light. God and Natural Light can get me through it.

Ah, how quickly the tide turns.

SO THIS HAS BEEN A FUN EVENING.

Kane and Jude's step-dad called Jason at work and ranted erratically about all kinds of random crap, including that Jason blackmailed his ex-wife for money, that we have the kids "livin' three to a room", that Jason is just trying to get child support, that he would never harm Jason's children, and so on and so forth. Jason asked to talk to the kids' mother, and was told "she's in the kitchen cooking with the kids" (it was 9:30 at the time). It only took us about fifteen phone calls to finally get an answer, and it was step-daddy again, who then told me that he had done nothing but help Jason out, and that their mom was in the shower. Turns out that was a lie as well, because when she finally called Jason she told him she was putting the kids to bed. She went on to say that she wasn't prepared to sign anything right now, and that the kids should just go ahead and move back with them and go to school where they live.

In short, they prove at every turn that they are totally unstable, unpredictable, and ABSOLUTELY OBLIVIOUS to the kids' welfare.


I will tell you people what I tell Reed when he acts like a ridiculous ass: Do you want a good fight? Because if you keep on like this, we're going to have a good fight.

Well, blow me down.

Well, for goodness sakes, Kane and Jude's mom has decided that the kids need their father, and that they don't really want to change things around, so maybe things ought to just stay the way they are.

So right now I am marveling at the wonders of the human brain, and being thankful that she either got some sense or got distracted. WHATEVER. Luckily our lawyer has already filed, so we can get it all in writing pretty quickly.

I am working on another article for Lipstick, and I'm hoping I can write for them frequently. Gas prices, among other things, are making me really weigh the worth of driving to Homewood every day for a job at which I make so little money; I realized yesterday that it costs $8 every day for me to get to work and back. Add to that the $95 a week we pay for Reed to go to daycare just so I can work, and it makes $135 a week. Subtract that from my weekly pay and I'm left with $140- I am making $140 a week after those expenses, expenses I wouldn't have if I didn't work. I am having trouble thinking "AND IT'S TOTALLY WORTH IT." I mean, I don't exactly love my experience there, and most people don't like their jobs, but I work somewhere where my boss throws boxes at me.

Anyways, it's just something to think about.

Cleaning out my text messages...

- Bottletree. Soul dj. No cover.

- Victoria Beckham has a two million dollar vibrator. It's solid platinum with a diamond-encrusted base and a 16 karat diamond necklace which begs the question- a necklace? Really?

- I just got blatantly and obviously hit on by a middle aged Greek dude who sounded like Balkie and looked like my uncle. FAIL.

- I bought a vest last night. I'm not sure what's become of me but I love it.

- Side bun is our band name.

- Out the side doe, with the other hootchies.

- Watch Fox 6 news to see my ass selling flowers.

- I love seeing rich ladies jogging in Mountain Brook, almost falling over from all the Prozac.

- Oo, yur like the sun, chasin all the rain away.

- Want to come watch me cry, drink, and make cufflinks?

- I just got off work and am driving through a monsoon. I'll call you when I find out if we are going to make it.

*And yes, the idea to post these came from Miss Sara.

Daily doo.

I haven't had the energy to write much here lately, because for the most part, I just keep thinking of negative things to say. I figure you people probably have enough going on and have read my bitching enough that you don't really need any more of it right now.

I am about to miss what will probably be the best and most explosive staff meeting at work ever- we had some pretty big events last weekend, during which one guy quit and several others were inconsolably insulted by things the first guy said and did. As a result, our boss called an EMERGENCY staff meeting and instructed us all to type out every single complaint we have, EVEN ABOUT HER, about anybody in the store, and also anything good we have to say and drop it into this SEALED box to be read and dealt with at the meeting. Unfortunately I didn't eat dinner last night after clinching through a night of fit-throwing from the little dude in my house, plus finding out that Kane has been looking at PORN on the internet, and as a result I spent most of the night lying awake with a burning, cramping gut. IT WAS AWESOME. Anyways, this morning I felt terrible and stayed out of work and now I'm missing the meeting. Seriously, every person I work with has chips on they shoulders and grudges and secrets and they all secretly, or openly, dislike almost everyone else there and I AM MISSING ALL THE ACTION. I didn't ever type my grievances and so now I'll type them here:

I wish my boss didn't throw boxes at me, or clap in my face, or grunt at me and roll her eyes at me. I think these tactics are counterproductive, in that they make me want to steal things and throw bricks through the window.

I wish that all the lip-service my boss gives to equality and how everyone in the workplace should be treated the same had any truth, and effect on the way she treats her employees. One guy can scream about scrotums and putting stuff in his butt and licking butts and show stuffy old clients naked pictures of his boyfriend's ass and IT'S JUST SO GOSH-DARNED CUTE, THOSE GAY BOYS! But I make one loud comment about wanting a beer and I'm chastised in front of the entire staff, singled out as an example of how INAPPROPRIATE we can be at work and how it should stop.

I think that pretty much everyone we work with does a good job and works hard and is good at what they do. HA HA, BITCHES. I may get tired of certain people pouting and throwing fits and refusing to take their phone calls and refusing to talk to customers and getting irritable if I ask them questions and trying to pass as much of their work as possible off on me, but I also respect all of them. Almost. Almost all of them. And that's pretty good, right?

And now it's summer.

Originally uploaded by buffpuff

Some time soon I bet I'll be able to think of lots of things to write about on here that don't always involve the word "FUCK", in all caps like that, repeatedly.

Our lawyer has filed some stuff and sent a letter to Kane and Jude's mom. Of course, when she laid down this decision she immediately stopped communicating with us- won't answer the phone, won't return our calls. So we're still not hearing from her at all, still being avoided, so we have no way of knowing if she's received it yet, if she understands the severity of the situation, if she knows how bizarre it will be if she has to go sit in a court and talk in front of our families and lawyers and a judge about her life and all the things that have happened to her and all the things that she's done and still try to come out of it at the end saying "And that's why I'm a great mom."

One day soon, after all this mess has passed, I'll probably go into much more detail about their mother, if for no other reason so everyone reading will understand why we have been so panic-stricken, why we worry around the clock about what she might do next. Up until recently I have made some passing comments, but I've never felt the need to make her personal business public because I figured, hey, she deserves to have her skeletons in the closet, she deserves her privacy, I can leave well enough alone.

Now it has become clear that all those details, events, secrets, are going to be affecting me on a regular basis. I have put a lot of time and effort into trying to take good care of Kane and Jude; I don't feel obligated to a woman who will willingly jerk them around just to try and get her way. If nothing else, even if it weren't for how much I love them, even if it weren't for how much I love their father, if there were no other reasons in the world for me to worry about them they would still be Reed's brothers. He loves them and loves playing with them and looks up to them. That alone makes me wildly fierce about who's caring for them, how they're being cared for.

In other news, I started taking a different birth control pill and it immediately made my period stop. Just like that. No more. It is making me sick as a dog, but the sickness is slowly tapering off, and I AM NOT HAVING A PERIOD. After three months of it, it's a big deal.


Now if I could just stumble upon a good attitude and a million dollars, all would be right with the world.

Dear God, make me a bird, so that I can fly, far far away.

I would like to say that I pray all the time, every day, many times a day. Unfortunately lately I've had a hard time praying. I still believe, I just have been so tired and had so much running through my head that I just haven't prayed, have been lazy, confused, preoccupied.

However melodramatic, I've decided to write a prayer here just to get it out, solidify it. Then whenever I feel too tired to pray I can come back and read this.

God, please watch over my family and friends.

Please watch my mama. Keep her safe, and make her life good. Give her happiness and relief from stress and let her have the ability to find some peace now that she's raised her children. Please give her the knowledge that she's done a good job.

Please help my sister to find some happiness in a life that is different from what she imagined as a child. Help her to relax and find some goodness in her life, and to let go of all her disappointments.

Please help my dad to be happy and safe and healthy. Help him to know that his kids are all good people, even if we're so far from perfect.

Please help Jason's mom to find some peace and to know that she did a good job with her children. Help her to know that their fierce love of life is a testament to what kind of parent she is.

Please help Jason's dad to love himself, to be proud of his own tough brand of fathering. Help him to remember that his children love him.

Please keep Jason's brothers and their families safe, and keep them on the path to a great life, a path I think they are already on.

Please give happiness and safety to the rest of our families, our uncles and aunts and cousins and step-parents and all of their families.

Please watch over Kristi and Chris. Help them to stay as happy as they are now, to remember this time when life gets harder or different, to have a life with babies and good jobs and friends who love them and take care of them.

Please help Andy to find some happiness, to let go of some of the awful things he's been through and feel a little lighter. Watch over Diane and give her the peace of mind that she deserves as a woman who has worked her entire life to make a good life for her children.

Please help Lindsey to know that her life will be full and perfect and that this time when things are swimming around her and everything is murky will one day be gone. Help her to remember that when her life seems mired in pain and uncertainty, her friends still love her and still want everything to get better, and that's a start.

Please help Stephanie to find some peace, some calm, some ability to see clearly in the dark. Please give James the ability to center down, to remember how delicate life is, to remember how much he loves life and smiling and his future wife.

Please watch over all my friends who I don't see as often- Deanna, Brock, Linnea, Johnny, Derek, Mason, Jasper, Amanda, John, probably others whose names aren't coming to me now- help them to be happy, keep them safe.

God, please watch over Kane and Jude and help them to understand that parents can't always agree. Help them to understand that having divorced parents, fighting parents, is not their fault and that everything will be okay. Help them to forgive us for being imperfect and not always knowing the right answer. Help them to remember that this life is not perfect and even when things are disappointing, we are always trying really, really hard.

Please keep my baby safe. Please, God, just be with Reed and don't let anything bad happen to him. I am having a hard time right now not thinking about all the bad things that can happen to a child, all the illness and accidents and tragedies. Please just let Reed have a long happy life that I can enjoy with him. Please don't let him be a crazy person like me. Please give him the ability to be a hard worker and a fierce lover of his friends and family and a person who can love his life with reckless abandon.

Please help Jason to remember why he fell in love with me, why I fell in love with him. Please let us know how to persevere. Please help us to find our roles with each other as a team, as a pair of people who want the same things, and people who want good things for each other. Please help him find everything he's looking for. Please keep him safe.

Please help me to be a better person. Jesus, please, just help me let go of some of this grief that is inexplicably lodged in my heart. Please don't let me waste this time, this time with Jason and Reed and Kane and Jude, being a sad person, a crazy person. Please help me to know the right thing to do in all these situations I find myself in, these moments when I feel lost, when I forget for a moment that I'm not a kid, when I think that I can't possibly be old enough to make the decisions that I'm faced with. Please help me hold on these last little remnants of my ability to have a good time, to smile and laugh, to get pleasure out of watching other people laugh. Help me remember that my children are fragile and I must always think about every action, every comment, every single thing that I do and how it will affect them. Please give me the strength and grace to combine the very best qualities of my favorite people, to be like my mother and Kristi and Lindsey and Jason and Stephanie and Deanna and to have the quick, witty sense of humor and irony that Kane and Jude and Reed have. Help me to remember why I am not perfect, why Jason isn't perfect, to remember that our flaws are beautiful and that without them, we would be someone else. Please give me some peace in the night, some time when I don't wonder if the doors are locked, some time when I don't wonder what that sound was, some moments when I'm not thinking about all the bad stuff that could be about to happen.

Oh God, please don't forget about Leonard Peltier. I cannot imagine how hard his life has been, still is, how much longing he must have to hold his grandchildren, to stroke their hair and tell them that he loves them.

Please help all of us to do better, to think more about this living, breathing organism that is the world we live in. Help us to remember that it is our responsibility to make sure that there still is a world for our children, that this fierce love and fear we have for them is the same fierce love and fear they will have for their own children, and that we have a hand in deciding how much they will have to worry about their families, their lives, their futures.

And God, as long as I'm making requests, please help me not take a cow pie to work in a bag and throw it at my boss. All those times that she rolls her eyes at me, grunts at my "stupidity", claps her hands in my face, talks to me like I'm an idiot, please in those moments help her to know that she is walking a very thin line with a very crazy lady. We haven't got Reed potty trained yet, so I still have access to some very nasty substances which I could very easily rub all over the door-handles on her car.

Help me to remember why a sense of humor is so important, and help everyone reading to know that I still have one. It just gets lost behind a very thick fog sometimes.

The next storm was today.

Oh, for the love of shit, it's Mother's Day time, and that means it's time for my job to make me question my will not to drink during the day. Or morning. Or while in the bed, during the night before.

Seriously, people want their flowers for their mamas, they want to be able to wait until 48 hours before the big day, and they don't want anyone standing in their way. Today was a long day of pissing off various people, from the owner to the delivery manager to the customers to the designers. People are totally unafraid to let you know that you are an insignificant cog in the machine that is THE BEST FLOWERS IN BIRMINGHAM, PEOPLE. I found myself saying "FUCK IT" more often and more loudly than most days, and it's usually pretty frequent if that tells you anything.

Tonight I am trying to push through the nausea and fatigue to just, please, get some alcohol into my system. Tomorrow I'm going to work with a can of silly string in my apron because, listen, I won't get in as much trouble shooting people with that as with the lazers that come out of my eyes.

Calm after the storm... and before the next one.

Originally uploaded by buffpuff

Jason and I simultaneously exhaled today, a mighty heaving that left us totally giddy and thankful and exhausted. I'm still nauseated, but it matters a little less now. I will probably write a lot more about all this at a later date, but for now I will say that I think everything is going to be okay.

I have found myself totally uninterested in staying up past about 7:45 lately. I've always been a late-nighter, so it's a little annoying. I keep thinking I'm going to have a drink after Reed goes to bed and then make some jewelry; I end up having a drink of water with an antihistamine while Reed is still watching his nightly Wiggles film and then passing out around 9:30. It's good to get all this rest, but I'm starting to wonder if my time- the time during which I love to party and hang out and stay up late- has finally passed. IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME.

I have to say, though, that I seriously doubt my late nights are over; this has just been a particularly rough patch this past couple of weeks. We've found a tiny place where we can rest easy, at least for a few days, and I'm trying to remember that I don't have to be stressed out right now. It may get better or it may get worse, but for the next week or so we won't know, so we may as well feel better.

Making a wish.

Originally uploaded by buffpuff

There has been so much going on lately- nauseation, continued bleeding, A LOT of crying, pulling of hair, frustration, worry, constant phone-calling, and then a couple of good things.

I think this super-cute little boutique in Homewood called Happi is going to carry my jewelry. I am so excited and hopeful and grateful- it's really a big deal to me, and I hope that it works out well for everyone involved.

An article that I wrote is being published in the June issue of Lipstick Magazine. Again, great opportunity, very excited, could lead to other opportunities, super-awesomeness.

I am not downplaying either of those things because they are both so rad and exciting, but I must say that the past two days of making 734 phone calls to 347 different people, telling our story those many times, talking to people who didn't know, or didn't care, or didn't want to disturb their lunch is really defeating. It has gotten to the point where every time I hang up the phone, every single time, I start to cry. I sit there for a few minutes and cry and rub my eyes and collapse in on myself, and then I straighten my shoulders and find my list and make the next call. It's not even that we're getting bad news from anyone; we just can't seem to light on the right branch, so to speak.

Luckily we're checking out another couple of branches on Thursday. So the beat goes on.


P.S. I just noticed that Lipstick has a link to my blog under "Our Favorite Websites". How cool is that? WAY.