Thoughts From My iPhone

Some things I’ll post about tomorrow.. or today.. What time is it anyway??

1) why buying pillowsvat WalMart became a battle of wills

2) buying new clothes vs just putting your damn dirty clothes in the damn hamper for God’s sake!!!

3) why would ANYONE think that getting a Visa Green Dot card is perfectly fine for a 12 year old (( take note kids.. These are the decisions a drug riddled mind makes!? ))

4) bank fees and what they do to take ALL your money

Thoughts From My iPhone

I accidently deleted the post about me nephew dressing up in my godson’s Marine gear.. Fucking phone!

Credit for that FAIL goes to insomnia..

Two hours of sleep in two days and it looks like I’m not going to get hit by the sandman tonight either

This blows

(No Longer) Weed Goes To College…

Well..

Kinda…

Sorta..

Maybe..

So last week some time me and Weed were having this conversation about him wanting to go to college. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to study but something in computers seemed like a good bet.

So me.. being me.. and not wanting to pull the brakes on the momentum jumped on line to find out grants or whatever to get the ball rolling.

Let me just say this..

It’s been A LONG time since I was 1) IN college and 2) had to maneuver the ropes to GET into college.

Back in my day if you wanted to go.. you got a job and paid for it. No free rides.. no state money.. no papa writing a big fat check.

So this was all new to me.

Anyway.. so I filled out some form on some website that was SUPPOSE to send information about various online colleges and ways to pay for it.

There came a point when I had to pick a specific college and I chose one who’s name I recognized.. one that Chief’s cousin’s Bird’s son just graduated from :: if you can follow that :: and I also knew that it was geared towards adults that had to fit school and life together.

Within 5 minutes.. no lie.. after submitting the information, my cell phone rang. Chief answered it and said, “.. OH! You mean (No Longer) Weed” and handed the phone to him. He talked to somebody for like 5 seconds and then said that he had an appointment with someone at the college for Monday.

WFT?? WHAT??

Well.. ok.. I put the ball on the field so now I gotta run with it, right?

So yesterday I take him up there. He wanted me to go in with him so I did and the FIRST thing I explained was that we ONLY WANTED information.. that we’re only here because I was submitting forms and just expected something about the college in the mail.

I don’t think the chick heard a word I was saying as she gave us a damn tour of the campus.

Yea. A Damn Tour!

The she started pushing papers in front of (No Longer) Weed and said because this was an open house day they weren’t going to charge for the application fee and don’t worry about not having SAT scores because they do an aptitude test and the dean will help him figure out his courses when he meets with him.. etc. etc. etc.

And all the while, I’m saying EXCUSE ME.. WE’RE ONLY HERE FOR INFORMATION..

But if I got the ball rolling and was running with it.. SHE was going for the goddamn touchdown in the last 10 seconds of the last quarter of the damn superbowl.

Then came the nitty gritty…

She was asking for tax information to determine financial aid.

I explained to her.. AGAIN.. that we were only there for INFORMATION GODDAMN IT and that we didn’t bring ANYTHING with us.. and beside.. he lives with the Crack Whore. I’m just the ride.

She grabs the financial aid counselor because that little piece of information threw her into a tizzy. The woman :: think stern, no-nonsense librarian with not ONE OUNCE of sexy librarian in her :: comes in and informs me that because (No Longer) Weed is under 24 both his Bio-parents are responsible to pay for his education.

Um.. WHAT?

Wait.. let me rephrase…

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

She sets up a meeting with him for Saturday and tells him that he’s going to be there for about 2 hours filling out forms. I immediately tell him that I have to work and that the Crack Whore is going to have to take him. The woman tells us that (No Longer) Weed needs to bring OUR tax information and HER tax information.

She bids us farewell.. and we’re shown the door.. with all the staff waving good bye.. thanking us for coming and hopes to see us soon.

When we got to the car, (No Longer) Weed asks me if I thought they were a little TOO anxious.. like they were all drinking the Kool Aid or something.

Welcome to Jim Jones’ country, I mumbled.

But here’s the thing.. I didn’t mention this to (No Longer) Weed and almost started a conversation with Chief but it got interrupted… I don’t WANT to hand over our tax information.. I don’t want to be responsible for paying for his education if he decides to fall back to his old ways or if he just decides he doesn’t want to finish what he stated.

Not having two pennies extra is waste is beside the point.. even if I did.. I don’t want to do it.

I especially don’t want to hand over my tax records because the Crack Whore will have access to them.. and believe me, she will take that information and do SOMETHING with it that will benefit her .. try to get out of paying child support :: not that she has been anyway :: or just “something”.

I don’t trust her.. and I don’t believe anything she says.. so the last thing I want to do is give her anything to use against us on a silver platter.

So when I see him today, I’m going to tell him that I’m not giving up the info. If he wants to still pursue it, then he’ll have to figure it out with the Crack Whore.

A very little piece of me feels a little bad. Bad because he wants to go to school and this is going to be spun like I’m being a bitch and not wanting to help..

But I’ll get over it..

Beside.. HE even said that where the Crack Whore is concerned, she gets everything for free anyway so maybe she’ll break out the knee pads to help her son instead of using them to help herself.