… because you asked (part 2)

.. apologies for having to skip out earlier.

One thing led to another.. and then another.. and then somehow I found myself at Target buying a lot of crap I didn’t need and forgetting what it was I actually went in there for!!

Grrr!!

At any rate.. okay.. so where was I?

So I left off with the trials and tribulations of Elvis.

Just for S&G’s :: shits and giggles :: I stalked his Facebook page :: don’t anyone update their privacy settings??? :: Apparently, he’s still in Oklahoma AND surprise.. surprise.. he’s in communication with the Crack Whore.

Heh.. omg.. I can’t stop giggling!! I can’t make up this shit, people!

Okay so the biggest question I got :: always get, actually :: is WHY THE HELL DO YOU STAY IN THIS INSANITY??

The quick and dirty answer is: Right????

But the truth is a lot more complex.

Look, no relationship is perfect. And every battle isn’t won. Everyone has their good and bad sides and unfortunately, I put people’s bad sides on blast when I blog. It’s venting.. it’s OMG! I can’t be the ONLY person who thinks this is bizzarro!!! .. it’s just me being me doing the things I do. I recognize that I don’t always blog when Chief does something amazing or says something that makes me fall out laugh and pee my pants but those things do happen.

I realized a long time ago that I was naive with this whole “man with kids” thing and that I didn’t know what the hell I was getting into. Did my opinion of Chief change? Yes. Did I fall out of love with him? No. It’s just one of those things that I either accepted or didn’t and moved on.

Him as a man to my woman is worth a lot more then anything his kids, ex or whatever could make me give up. Happy is easy. Difficulty is what proves love.

OR I’ve had way too many Gummi Bears and I’m on a sugar rush!!

Plus, you know, I’m a fighter. I’ll fight with any one about anything for sport!! LoL!

Oddly enough, I get asked about my menagerie of pets.

Right now.. on the bed with me.. is Butch, the dog that came with the house because my landlord wasn’t able to take him with her when she moved, Ernie: The Terrorist Puppy that is no longer a terrorist OR a puppy. He’s just a root beer barrel shape mess of neurosis who can’t sleep unless he’s under a blanket and Moan-a, the indoor cat who got stuck in our old attic with a Christmas ball named Wilson for company and has since become an outdoor cat at the new house. Unless, like tonight, it’s in the single digits with freezing rain. Then she’s on my bed.

Chief is wanting to get me a blue bird to fill the space on my bed after I Tretis myself in for the night around these three.

We’ve had a few too many Rainbow Bridge send-offs:

Luca Bella.. the love of my life. I can’t write about her or I’ll bust out crying and be an emotional wreck for a month. It was her time and I had to let her go. It was the right thing to do.

Then there was Al.. the best damn cat in the world. We still don’t know what happened to her. We just drove home from somewhere and she was curled up at the base of our drive way as if she was sleeping. Some one had suggested that she may have licked antifreeze which made sense because she was a complete outdoor cat and we had just moved to the new house. The weather was turning cold and someone, somewhere may have leaked it or spilled it and there you go. Considering what roams around my neighborhood, I have no angst that it was on purpose. Just, sadly, one of those things.

Lastly there was Retard. Don’t give me shit about her name. You had to know her and you’d get it immediately. She was beyond awesome. Just like a puppy and friendly as all hell. She followed Moan-a through a window that I didn’t realize was left open. We found Moan-a but not Retard. I can’t say for sure that she Rainbow Bridge-d it. More then likely someone found her.. or she climbed in their handbag :) .. and got herself a new home.

I hope so. She was too special to not have a long, spoiled life.

And that’s really all about it. Unless y’all got something else you want to know!

Keep asking because.. obviously.. my life is nothing but an open book!

.. because you asked

… so I’ve gotten some pretty interesting questions since I started posting again.

They MAY have come from WordPress, come to think of it, to KEEP me posting. Dunno! :)

But some have come from :: who knew! :: readers who’ve been reading for a long time.

Imagine that!

Of interest was the reaction of both Weed and the GF (still can’t think of an appropriate tag for her) when I asked her about being with a deadbeat when her own son’s father wasn’t in his life.

I wasn’t looking at Weed so I don’t know what his “face” looked like but I can say :: most surprisingly :: that the GF responded that she’s been telling Weed to spend more time with T3. To which, Weed replied that it’s been tough because he really doesn’t have any money. TO WHICH I replied that phone calls are free.. and so is the park.. and so is Sunday dinners at my house.

The GF had mentioned earlier that her car was being worked on because of a minor fender bender that left the rear off-centered but she did tell Weed that they could take public transportation down to my house. No easy feat considering where they live and where I live but at least appreciated that she was more pro then con with Weed being involved in his kid’s life.

To be fair :: there was too much ” grrr ” last night to be objective :: she seems like she’s an okay person. She lives with her parents, has a degree in elementary and special education and has a real job working with kids as an educator. She comes from a fairly affluent community :: which means absolutely nothing except that she isn’t living in a crack den :: and she met Weed in a program because she had become addicted to pain meds after a serious car accident a few years ago. On the surface, it would appear that if he had to be in a relationship with anyone at least this girl appears to have her priorities in order.

What I don’t know is if she is strong enough to handle Weed’s persuasions. Charm is built into these boy’s DNA :: from their father’s side :: and they’ve only been “in a relationship” :: according to Facebook :: since November 21st.

Yes, I stalk. Report me!

But.. as with everything.. time will tell.

I’ve also been asked what ever became of Elvis, Chief’s jailbird nephew who was was brought out to PA by Chief’s douchebag brother.

Not sure where I left off on THAT story.

The thumbnail is that Elvis has been in and out of jail for half his life and through Facebook, connected with his PA family for the first time. His mother had high-tailed out of the area when he was 6 months old and never had any contact with his father’s side of the family.

His douchebag uncle paid his way out here, put him up and basically treated him like a plantation slave.. never really giving him the opportunity to venture off the property to find work to sustain on his own. Couple that with alcohol and the fact that douchebag’s wife has an Oedipus complex and hates, hates, hates anybody or anything that diverts the douchebag’s attention away from her.. shit was a powder keg waiting to explode.

And it did.. one drunken night when Douchebag said something that Elvis took the wrong way and Captain Morgan set those powder kegs on fire.

Elvis was banished from the property.. his clothes dumped in a McDonald’s parking lot.. and he was left stranded in a state where he knew know one.

Of course, he knew me.. but communication between me and him stopped when he went to live with Douchebag. All extensions of hospitality were met with “sorry, can’t” or “busy” or whatever excuse came my way.

So I wasn’t in a too charitable mood when all of a sudden he’s blowing up my phone with text messages needing help.. money.. a place to stay.. etc.

However, I’m not heartless and sometimes the best way to help someone is to make them help themselves.

I reached out to a homeless shelter that’s affiliated with the Salvation Army. I explained the situation and they gladly offered him a place to stay, food, clothing vouchers, etc. while helping him find a job.

For someone who said that they were committed to turning their life around and all they needed was the opportunity, you’d think that one would take THIS opportunity and fly with it.

He flew alright.. all the way to Oklahoma.

What happened was he started to get too involved with the people he was living with.. all kinds of people who’s circumstances made them opportunists. I had told him to keep his head down and stay out of any issue that didn’t directly concern him. He didn’t listen and was either thrown out or asked to leave :: still don’t know which :: and since he was already working for a landscaping company :: that the shelter helped him get :: he decided he was going to get his own place.

According to his story, he had to sleep on the streets a few nights but finally was able to rent a room from a guy who had once been a resident of the shelter.. made good and now wanted to give back. He would rent rooms to those who were in the transition part of their lives.

His mother put up the first week’s rent because Elvis was between paychecks but sometime after he moved in, I get the phone call asking if I can help him because he didn’t get his check and his rent was due. I told him to talk to his landlord and explain.. even have his landlord talk to his boss. Something adult and reeking of responsibility.

Never knew what happened because the next thing I know is that he’s trying to get money for bus fare to Oklahoma because he had to leave right! away!.

Putting the puzzle pieces I had to work with in place, I think what happened was Elvis wanted to live his way and the landlord had rules regarding who or what goes on in his property. Elvis started posting pictures of tattoos he was doing and I’m sure the caliper of people who would get tattooed by someone like Elvis aren’t the kind of people the landlord wanted hanging around.

Elvis also has a quick temper and I’m thinking that something went down.. the police were called and he decided his best move was to get out of the state.

Don’t really know.. and really, don’t really care. I’ve been bit by the dog too many times to keep trying to pet him.

Elvis kind of fell off the face of the earth so I really can’t give you a current update.

… well, baby’s up from his nap which means my time no longer belongs to me!!!!

 

 

United Bank of….. ME??????

You have one of these? Cuz I sure as hell don’t!!

You know… whenever you think it’s too good to be true, right?

Okay.. so let’s do some catch up first:

Weed :: who really should be renamed “deadbeat” :: was in jail when T3 :: who I sometimes call “Timbo” :: was born.

He was released from jail while the baby was still in NICU :: withdrawing from FUCKING HEROIN, mind you :: and if memory serves, went up to the hospital.. um.. twice??

He proceeded to sofa surf.. wound up back in jail.. then into rehab.. then back to sofa surfing.. got a job that last all of 2 days :: because OH! He’s not “.. fit for manual labor” :: … did some more sofa surfing until the tide ran dry.. went back to rehab.. then to a half way house.. and now resides in a sober house about 40 miles north east of where I live.

Phew.. I get exhausted just trying remember this shit!

Anyway.. since the baby has been home with us, he’s seen him about 6 times in 18 MONTHS. Doesn’t help out financially… doesn’t even call and ask how he’s doing. In fact, when he was over for Thanksgiving dinner :: not my idea and that counts as visit 5 of the 6 :: he never once expressed gratitude that the son he called begging and pleading not to become a ward of the state was right there in the middle of the room being supported and raised by me and Chief.

AND, on Christmans :: visit 6 of 6 :: he didn’t so much as bring the kid a dollar store teddy bear even though he “supposedly” is working. Because if there’s one thing the sober house did that Chief didn’t.. was force the kid to get a job to earn his keep.

With both Weed and Bubba, you never heard from them unless they need something. While this doesn’t bother Chief.. it bugs the shit out of me. And it really doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m the only one working.. it has more to do with respect.

Another post for another time.

So the fact that we don’t hear from Weed at all actually makes my life easier.

But y’all know that wasn’t going to last for long.

Last night, Weed calls Chief. The two things I hear Chief say is “… what’s going on” and “.. yknow i’m not working, right?”

And that really is all I need to hear because I know then that somehow, someway, this is going to cost me money. The big question is how much and what it’s for.

See, there’s a reason why they call Chief and ask. Me? I wouldn’t be able to get HELL NO out fast enough.

So Chief talks to him for a few minutes and tells him he’ll call him back.

He walks past me on the couch.. goes into the kitchen.. starts making a cup of coffee.. I purposely ask him if he wanted to watch a movie.. he said he didn’t care.. and then silence.. silence.. silence.. silence.. silence…

I know what he’s doing.. he’s trying to figure out the best way to ask me to give Weed money because he feels embarrassed and awkward and feels like he’s put in a bad position.

So I flat out ask “.. so what was that all about?”

He tells me that Weed is working but for some reason, hasn’t gotten paid yet. “.. remember he said something about that at Christmas? Huh? Huh? Do ya? Do ya?”

NOTE: everything after “.. at Christmas?” I added using the beauty of poetic licensing

I tell him I didn’t but whatever.

He tells me that Weed is 100.00 short on his rent and if he doesn’t have it by tomorrow afternoon, he’s going to get kicked out. IN! 9! DEGREE! WEATHER!

And of course, I have all these questions that he can’t answer.

Why doesn’t he have his rent? Can’t he explain the paycheck situation with the landlord? Can’t he have the landlord call you? Can’t you give him a money order? Can’t you deposit it right into the landlord’s account? Etc. Etc. Etc.

Believe you me.. I did NOT want to give this kid money. For rent or not. I’m not a fucking bank and I have issues making it from one paycheck to another as it is. I also know that once you get him out of a bind once.. that phone will never stop ringing. I also know that Chief can be a pussy when having to play “bad cop” and so I figured that giving him 100.00 bucks is going to serve 2 purposes.

One, he’s going to be told to not even ask for a used tissue until the money is paid back and two, Chief is never going to grow a pair big enough to ask me again on his behalf.

Not to bore you with the details, but it was THAT kind of conversation.

So Chief calls him back and tells him that we’ll bring him up the money. He wanted to see where he was living :: if it was what he said it was and not a crack den :: AND he wanted to give the money to the house manager. Being that he lived in a house for recovering junkies and got a last minute call for money did anyone THINK it was going into his hands?? Right.

Weed texts me his address and when I asked what time the house manager was going to be there, he replied that he would have to get back to me because the dude wasn’t home from work yet.

Fine.

About 10pm he sends a text that we could go up “anytime” because he had to work and wouldn’t be there.

So now I’m going to drive 40 miles :: did I mention that we were hit with 7 inches of snow, temps not breaking 12 degrees AND I go into severe anxiety when I have to drive in bad weather? :: hand some money to some stranger without Weed being there and that’s ok?

Don’t think so.

Chief calls Weed and is told that he has to work and wouldn’t be back until around 4. Chief tells him that we’re not driving up there that late because we’re victims of a toddler’s schedule … HIS toddler’s schedule .. and we’re not going to be put out all night because the kid falls asleep in the car way before he’s suppose to. So Weed tells him that given the circumstances, he’ll try to get off work early and be at the house around 3.

Whatever.

So this afternoon, around 230-ish, Weed calls Chief and asks him what time we were leaving. Chief tells him that we were just gearing up and should be there in an hour. Weed THEN tells Chief that he’s at his girlfriend’s house :: haven’t thought of a name for her yet but she’s another recovering addict that has a 6 year old son and lives with her parents :: and could we pick him up there?

Are you fucking kidding me?

No. No. No. No. No. HELLS NO.

I get bent.. even Chief gets bent.. and I told Chief that he’s acting like he’s doing US a favor and that WE should be grateful enough to go traveling all over eastern Pennsylvania to give him money.

Get the fuck out of here.

Chief actually put his foot down which was impressive. Finally.

We get to the house and it’s not a crack house.. but it doesn’t look line the Sober House on the Dr. Drew VH1 series, that’s for sure.

The girlfriend was there.. she’s nice enough. So far. And we met the house manager and some of the other recovering junkies that live there.

Chief reverted to a teenager and didn’t act one iota like a pissed off father who drug his wife and grandson 40 miles in bad weather to bail him junkie son out once again so I had to be the bitch and lay down the law regarding money. Again.

I had to be the bitch who made it perfectly clear that his son has no idea who he is AND I was the bitch who put his girlfriend on the spot by asking if the father of her son was in his life. Her answer was no. I asked if it pissed her off. She said it did. I then asked if her son’s father was a deadbeat and it pissed her off then why would she want to date a deadbeat?

It’s no secret that his kids think I’m a bitch so why not take the opportunities when the present themselves?

Unfortunately, we were there a lot longer then I anticipated or hoped to be. Maybe a half hour? Less then an hour? But it was at such a time and weather was the way it was that I couldn’t drive. I didn’t feel safe. So Chief had to drive home.

Did I ever mention how bloody car sick I get when Chief drives?

I literally thought I was going to die.. that hot feeling, stomach flipping up to your throat? I was literally in tears because I just wanted to get off the damn highway but we couldn’t.. it was bumper to bumper the whole way down because guess what?

Eagles’ playoffs.. that’s what and the only way we could get back to our house was to drive right past bloody Lincoln Field.. at prime drive time.

Chief did make sure.. in my ear shot.. to ream Weed out about the money, about not even dreaming of asking for anything again until it’s paid back, and for acting like a complete dick about not being at the house.

Like that’s going to make a difference.

At any rate.. that was my day! How the hell was yours??