So when the kids and I were evicted from the rental that I could no longer afford, after losing my job, after my (ex)husband walked out on us, we all basically had to go our separate ways. Although my youngest has just turned 18 and was legally an adult, I had wanted to be able to get a 2 bedroom so that he and I could live together, to in a sense, help each other out. What I found was that I was not going to be able to afford a 2 bedroom and so he moved in with some friends. He has since moved in with another friend and his parents. The parents had him move in with them so that he could get a job and save his money to get a car and start getting his life in order.
Fast forward to Monday night, when I ran in to one of the parents and the commented on how they were not sure if my son was just “milking” them or if what he was telling them was the truth. I saw red. I was furious. I didn’t even know how to respond and what I really wanted to do was to punch them in the face. Instead, I assured them that what my son has shared with them is not only the truth, but I am pretty sure that he is sparing them ALL of the details.
I am appalled that anyone would think a young adult (I guess mainly mine) would tell them what we have been going through and none of it be true just so that the kid would have a place to live? I cannot wrap my head around that and why wouldn’t one of the parents try and reach out to me to see if in fact our world had come crashing down around us?
I understand he is an extra mouth to feed and I understand that he takes up space, but why offer, if all you are going to do is complain.
Yesterday, August 29, 2017 was my “hearing” for spousal support, in which I was awarded a very small amount, but beggars can’t be choosers, right??
What irks me the most is that he (the Ex) showed up with a STACK of papers and I am pretty sure I know what all the papers were, but he actually wanted to provide the judge with an argument as to why he should NOT have to pay spousal support.
I know this is a VERY touchy subject among my very diverse group of friends, and to tell you the truth, if I still have my great paying job, I would not have wasted my time and lost sleep over this.
But you see, when he (the Ex) up and walked out on me and his kids and all the responsibilities and bills, it affected me. I ended up losing my job because I was missing work, I was outside on the phone a lot, I was not really there even when I was there. I take full responsibility for losing my job, but dammit, had my life NOT been turned upside down, I would still have that job and I wouldn’t need the assistance of alimony.
What I don’t get it, from his (the Ex) side, does he really hate me that much that he wanted to argue such a small amount? Like seriously? He up and left and left me hanging with ALL the bills, which I am still trying to get caught up on, I was evicted from the house we rented TOGETHER and now my car is out for repo!
Nothing angers me more than what he did. I can honestly say I am MUCH happier with my life now and my life without him, but what kind of person can just leave, not caring that you cannot afford life like you used to and never know where your next meal is coming from?
Most everyone knows that I served as a co-driver, co-pilot, whatever you want to call it, during the 2017 Powder Puff Race Towards a Cure.
I had an absolute blast and hope to have some sort of racing come in to my life again.
This was the first time for both me and my driver. We had very little truck time, but we were excited to get out there and do what we could. I understand this was a race, but it was a trace for a cause, so mostly we wanted to get out and have fun.
Our practice time was Friday afternoon from 3 pm until 4 pm. Practice was cut short for us, because rolled on lap 3, but that is ok. The truck was up and running in plenty of time for our first race on Saturday, which was schedule for 11:50 am. We geared up, I was nervous as fuck, but I came there to be a co-driver and that is what I was going to do damnit. We were second in the start line order. They waved the flag and we were off. I won’t bore you with the details of the entire race because this post is about sportsmanship and I feel that a particular co-driver of another truck must have left hers at home. Again, I know this was a race but it was for a cause and not all of us have been racing as long as this truck.
They were on our ass and “honking” which is what they do when they want you to let them by. Fine! I get it, but this track was not very wide and there were only a few places where we can get moved over so that someone could pass. We finally came to one of those spots and moved to the right so that this truck could pass on the left and when I looked over, I saw the co-driver flipping us off. That sent me over the edge. Why in the world would she do that? If I was a driver of a truck and I found out that my co-driver had done that to someone, I would have lost my shit on her. That is NOT cool and definitely not good sportsmanship by any means. Sorry we slowed you down and sorry you had to wait for us to move over but really, why do you feel the middle finger was necessary?
Is this ok in this industry? Does this happen a lot? Should I get used to it and let it go?
So this post started with the title of, Desert off road racing part 1 – the test run and then I started rambling about derby, so I guess it will be a derby post and we will get to the off road racing experience later.
I can honestly and openly say that my life as an adult has been B-O-R-I-N-G!!!! The two most “exciting” things I did was #1 get married and #2 have kids. As most all of you know, I pretty much fucked up #1 and as most all of you know, I also pretty much fucked up #2 so ya, I don’t have a lot going for me and my adult days. (My younger years were not much better, but I did get to do a lot of fun things with my parents.)
A little over three years ago, I was sitting in my garage with a bunch of friends as we were getting ready to ring in the New Year and there was a group of us girls sitting and talking; I cannot tell you how it came up but all I can say is that the next thing I know, we were all pinky swearing that we were going to sign up for roller derby.
Outside of knowing a teeny tiny bit about the Thunderbirds, I knew NOTHING about roller derby or that it even really existed, but it sounded fun and shit, I just pinky swore so there was NO backing out now. I took a few days to let it all settle in and then said FUCK IT and I started searching roller derby near me. I found the website for the Wine Town Rollers and I started reading the bios of all the girls, watching the videos they had made and posted and before you know it, I was emailing them and asking for more information. Lucky us (me) their next orientation was like the following week. I let my sperm donor know of my decision and I proudly went to orientation.
I was extremely intimidated when I got there. Don’t get me wrong, everyone was more than nice and very welcoming, but there was something about the one girl who was missing a tooth and we would not decide if it was roller derby related or not. (I can’t to this day tell you who that girl was, she must have left shortly after I got started)
Derby was a great experience for me and I am glad that I signed up and stuck with it for the three years that I did. Most people thought I would retire after shattering my ankle and I probably should have, but I had a point to prove (to myself) and a certain someone to piss off (the ex). When I was practicing three days week, he had a lot of free time and I am imaging that is when he made time for his mistress, but then when I was broken, I was a burden. He even said, if I broke myself again, I would have to find someone else to take care of me. Any hoo, this can easily turn in to a you-know-who bashing post, but I will save that for when I have more time and more wine.
For now I guess my point is a little off from the topic I had originally wanted to blog about, but derby was good for me and my confidence, self-esteem and I made some amazing life long friends that I hope will stay in my life forever (another blog topic I suppose)
This is going to be more of a rant than a real blog post, only because I haven’t blogged in a long time and with all that I have going on right now, I feel I deserve another rant.
It all started with me want to join the American Legion, nothing more and nothing less. I didn’t ask for money or a car or a house or anything of real value. I asked for someone’s DD2 number so that I could join the Legion. I probably should have gone to the source, but it was getting late, I was tired and I thought reaching out to someone who calls me Sis, would have been just as easy as typing an email to someone who only uses email.
What I got in return was an earful of complete fucking nonsense. She, the sister is tired of people asking him for things. There was more to it, but this is the line that struck a nerve with me. Let me break it down for the people that don’t know anything about my biological father. My father left when I was 2 (give or take) and was NOT there for me or my mom. He did not pay his child support and he did not help raise me. I went 20+ fucking years not knowing who my biological father was. Did he ever try to locate me…NOPE. So I took the bull by the horns and I did all the work. I spent countless hours at the library using PHONE BOOKS, yes people, this was before the internet and I had to use phone books to try and find him. My mom made some phone calls to different people that might know where he was and it seems all we got was the runaround. We did hear that he had had a son and that was all we could find out. Seems that he didn’t want to be found, so I stopped looking. This was when I was about 13 or 14 years old.
Fast forward to when I was about 21 years old and I figured I would give it another try. I was lucky enough to have a friend who worked for a PI and all I had to give her was his name and birth-date and she was able to find him. You know what they say, where there is a will there is a way.
We had a few phone calls and I even flew out there to spend some time with him. None of that really matters, what matters is that with social media, I should NOT be the bad guy for not having time to sit down and chitty chat on the phone about the last 40+ years of my life. I am NOT a phone person and it just isn’t going to happen. It won’t happen for anyone, sorry.
DO NOT sit here and tell me that you are mad because you are tired of people (me) asking for something. I beg your pardon, that man did NOTHING for me. He wasn’t there when I broke my leg, he wasn’t there when I cut my head open, he wasn’t there to teach me how to drive, he wasn’t there for my first broken heart…..HE JUST WASN’T THERE and for anyone to make that statement……
What I should have done was, I should have asked for the $900 in child support that was owed. I could have be a complete dick and sued him for that, but I didn’t.
Might I suggest that you sit back and consider how things were and are for others compared to how they were and are for you, before making comments about me just asking for things.
Up until last night, May 23, 2017, I have never really lived alone. I have been “on my own” since getting married, but I have never lived ALONE.
It was exciting and a little scary all at once. I stayed up later than I should have, I guess because 1) I did not have anyone telling me to turn off the light and go to sleep and 2) I was slightly nervous to fall asleep on my own.
I did have a couple glasses of wine before convincing myself it was time to women up and go the fuck to sleep.
I left the little light on the stove top on, turned off the rest and climbed in to bed, with the fur baby. I did toss and turn for a while, mostly because I was sleeping on an air mattress and also because the fur baby was hearing new sounds which prompted her to get up and bark, at nothing. I have to admit, I was a little freaked out and nervous, but I know that my doors and windows were secure and I am the only one with a key to my house. Besides my mom.
It was a rough first night and we didn’t get much sleep but I know it will only get better.
Here is to single living.
Walking down La Palma this morning and I go to turn to the right down Miller Street and I see someone laying down on the bus bench that once was abandoned by the mystery man.
Low and behold it was him. he was laying down and had on different clothes but I recognized the backpack. I felt relieved that he was back and reunited with his flannel and his small blanket, but now I wonder, what can I do to help him? I am sure my family and friends would tell me not to get involved but I feel like there is something I can do to help, even if just to pack up a sack lunch for him.