60 Ways to Be a Martyr

I've decided I'm not the only one who should write a book.

The Ex needs to write one - "60 Ways to be a Martyr."  Yes after 6 years apart he has discovered yet another way to play the part.  But he doesn't realize I don't let him get away with it anymore.

It goes something like this:

Simple email request:  "Please send me Son's plane ticket info for his trip to Spain this semester." 

Response:  None.  ever.  (typical of 80% of the email I send him...still)

Talking to Son, Son says, "Oh yeah, I need to send you my plane info.  Dad asked me to."

I said:  WTF  (oh yes I did)
Son:  "Dad is intimidated by you I think.  I asked him why he didn't send it and he just mumbled some stuff about you, said something about me being responsible, and asked me to do it."
ME:  "BS Son.  I'm done with this.  Since you were 15 he has used every method possible to put you and your sister in the middle.  I've told him, therapists told him, family told him, friends told him DON'T DO IT.  but he does.  This is ridiculous.  We are parents together.  We at the very least have a business relationship of raising you.  If I ask for a plane reservation, there is absolutely no reason to get you involved.  I asked him because HE was supposed to do it and pay for it and I am the one with the relationship with our Spanish friends who will be picking you up, so our Spanish friends are waiting for an email from ME. [also Ex lives at the computer all day like I do and in theory the chances of getting a responsive email from Ex should be 80x greater than from a kid on semester break]   Yes you should email them, too.  But I promised to keep her in the loop and that's what I need to do.  We have the business of paying for college and expenses, I don't need you guys in the middle feeling like you're asking for something we didn't commit to.**  We made a legal commitment to get you through college and we will have to discuss that directly  - not through you."
Son:  Wow.  Ok.  I didn't know all this.
ME;  of course you didn't because I have tried to keep you out of the uncomfortable middle.
Son:  thanks.

So Yes 6 years later, he still plays the martyr.  He still puts the kids in the middle.  At least they are older now - technically adults - and yes they can and should have more responsibility in decision making and finances and "adult" things.  That doesn't mean their father can't communicate with me - especially when asked.

Like last night when I emailed, "What time exactly is daughter's surgery tomorrow?  And please call me the minute she's awake"

response - you guessed it - nothing.  I'm sure he would think in his small little head, "Why doesn't she ask Daughter."  well, I did, of course, and of course being Daughter, she didn't really know.  "Denial" she kept saying.

Email this morning from me. "WHAT TIME IS THE SURGERY.  All Daughter knew was she had to be up early.  What time is the surgery.  Please respond."

Finally an hour later (two hours after I knew they left for the hospital) he tells me "they just took her back.  Should be about an hour."

gee thanks.

And yes she is home, awake, recovering.  Thanks Son for letting me know.

**And another note, yes any time money comes up, Ex plays the "poor me" card despite the fact that he makes more money than I do, owns a bigger house, etc.  Which is precisely why I try to deal directly with him and not through the kids.  They don't need any more guilt thrown on them than he already manages.

Just When You Thought He Couldn't Make Me Mad Anymore....

I think it's been a while since I actually posted about the Ex.  Pretty much I just think it's funny that he lives next door and tries to ignore me.  I can be hard to ignore.  Especially when I don't want to be ignored.

But the latest one really got me.

I am moving.  Or trying to move.  House cleaned up, For Sale sign out front.  C'mon offer!!!

Part of the moving process is ditching a lot of stuff I don't want any more.

Now, you might find this a little weird, but our divorce agreement gives each other the "right of first refusal" on personal property.  So about a month ago, I called Ex and said, "Pursuant to our divorce agreement, I am calling you to give notice that I am selling the house and selling certain furniture.  If you want anything, please come over and review it."  (yes I did say pursuant.  no I didn't.  Yes I did.  really.  OK I'm a lawyer.  I like the word Pursuant).

He was quick to hop on what he thought was the "free stuff" bus.

I won't bore you with the truly boring blow-by-blow walk-through of the house where he showed up with a tape measure, pen and pencil, but suffice it to say he wanted anything he thought he could get his hands on.

I decided to "give" him the pool table, because we bought that for the kids.  ("give" because he has to pay to move it).  I decided to give him all the unwanted lawn tools in the shed - old tractor, trailer, etc - because originally the agreement said he got outside stuff and I got inside stuff, but we each left each other a few things.  (I had to take back some of the things he tried to remove that weren't part of the items marked "giving away" - seriously dude you have a compressor built in to your house with a pump and long hose that runs to your garage - why do you want my little portable compressed air holder that retails for $10 and is a total *&^%bitch to fill at the gas station where I pay 75 cents for 2 minutes?)

But when it came to the bedroom furniture - solid cherry and solid mahogany, quality stuff - I drew the line.  I gave him a price (about 1/4 of retail). 

He waited a few weeks, then drafted this "woe is me" email about how it "just isn't right" that he should have to pay me for something he already bought.  Then he went on to imply that anything I sell on ebay or wherever, he should get 1/2 the proceeds.

Why yes my head did spin around and I did spit fire.

Then I drafted a response email.

I took out all the (good) snarky stuff.  And left just the facts:

1) For our property agreement, Ex, Mr. Anal, drafted a thorough spreadsheet of EVERY item in the house and gave EVERY item a value - most of them "full value" not depreciated;
2) Ex did item #1 above because I was getting most of the items in the house and he needed to "up" my side of the spreadsheet;
3) Even at inflated values for personal property, Ex's 1/2 of the pot was $160,000 more than mine (he took his 401K, I took the house, basically, was how it went down);
4) At the mediation, the lawyer asked ME, not HIM if I was ok with the "uneven" distribution of assets;
5) I have never complained about the "uneven" distribution of assets - I viewed it as "equitable" because I didn't have to move and there is a value in that;
6) When we signed the agreement, I "purchased" his 1/2 of all the personal property and "sold" him my 1/2 of the 401K.

I refrained from telling him he could have the bedroom furniture if I could have a distribution from his 401K.
I refrained from telling him that he could pay to me the value HE put on the spreadsheet if he didn't like my "Craigs' List" prices which were thousands lower.
I removed the part about one of us not whining or complaining and the other one needing to get over his fine self.

He hasn't spoken to me since.  (OK I know he doesn't speak to me anyway.  But he has been even more silent.  What you can't get "more silent"?  Yeah, you can.  Trust me).

Anyway, my point is, 4 years have passed and I have moved on with my life - now quite literally - and I foolishly thought that I had heard the last of, "Gee the property settlement wasn't fair and now you have to give me more stuff."

I refrained from saying, "I know the property settlement wasn't fair - can I please have $160,000??!!!"

WAIT A FRICKIN' MINUTE wasn't that yesterday?

On my blog sidebar, do you see a photo of Son and Daughter together - first day of college?

Monday I am bringing Daughter home.  She is a sophomore now.

How the hell did that happen?

Where did the year go?

I'm just hoping it hurts a little bit less when they leave me again in the fall.

Because last fall?  Sucked.

I still miss them every single day.  I still can't get used to the quiet in the house at night.  I still walk by their rooms and wish they were in them, even if they were fighting.

I might even miss the dirty dishes in the sink.  Wait.  Nope.

1 week and all will be right with the world.  For a little while.

Stop Telling Me What To Do

Lately everyone seems to want to be my boss. And it's not going over so well.

The other day I was in the grocery store, zooming around trying to fit in shopping while running late for a game and preparing for a party later. You know, the regular "being a woman" stuff. I am careful when I'm in zoom mode not to cut people off, run them over or be rude. So I was zooming around people in the produce department and some old, slow man says to me, "Just take it easy and slow down." WTF? Did I say to you, "He pokey get the frick out of the way - try caffeine you might move faster than 0.0001 mph!!"

Getting gas, not wasting time. Some old dude says, "Take it easy there, just enjoy life." WTF getting gas is an enjoyable experience? Maybe I'd like to get gas and get out on the field where I can enjoy life. Did I tell you to get the frick out of the way and go home where you can't bother people? No I just smiled at you and muttered under my breath.

"Friends" are telling me not to be "hard" on myself. People are telling me who to date, what to think, where to go. Telling me what I "should" do, how I should do it, and at what speed I should proceed. I am not asking for advice. This is all unsolicited. What is it about a single woman that invites every Tom, Dick, Harry, Joe, Pete, Steve, Mike, Jeff and Marshall to think they need to give me direction? And yes the only people telling me what to do ARE MEN.

I have stopped smiling at them and nodding and keeping to myself. I have started firing back. "NO you know what I really need? To make my own decisions. To decide what's best for me. And I really don't like doing what you're suggesting. So I'm not doing it that way thank you very much."

Yeeesh what am I, wearing a sign that says, "Boss Me Around"? I thought I exuded a certain, "Don't Mess With Me Attitude." Apparently I need to work on that a little....

Heh, I THOUGHT I was taking back my life!

Well well well, didn't I go and get all ahead of myself with taking back my life?!

Dr said: Fractured ribs. No exercise for a month. WTH?! How am I supposed to lose 15 pounds?

So that made me just want a glass of wine and a large plate of cheese fries.

Instead I had sauted shrimp & garlic and a mug or 3 of peppermint tea. And a handful of vitamins (glucosamine, B, calcium, E....one of those is bound to speed the healing process???)

So maybe I took back a little of my life....

Sigh...One Day At A Time.

Adjustments

It has been a hot summer. No silly not hawt. Just H-O-T.

I love H-O-T. OK I love hawt, too, but that's another post.

After a few days of 100+ degrees, I got used to it.

After a few weeks of 100+ degrees and 99% humidity, I awoke to temps in the 70's. I got in my convertible...and turned on the heated seats.

Oh yes I did. Really. It was 76 degrees and I was freezing. I put the "Just In Case" sweatshirt back in the car, too.

Any questions remaining on why I need to move to Florida?!

The Trip

I just spent 48 hours with the Ex. We went to dinner and out drinking together. We spent the night together alone in a hotel room. Yes you read that right.

No you didn't miss any posts. Our "relationship" remains pretty much as it was.

So what could possess him to spend so much time with me?

Son is going to college and it was freshman orientation. Son's college is 5 or so hours away. We both agreed it would be stupid to drive 2 cars. Then he suggested - yes him - that it would be wasteful to get 2 rooms. Money is tight + we're facing double college, so I agreed. Call me desperate for civility.

The week leading up to the trip was frustrating to say the least. The day before we left he finally sent me an email about the trip + wanted to leave around 3. I told him I had a hearing at 2 and likely couldn't go til later but wasn't sure. I offered to call/text when I got out, but he said no. So when my hearing was a mere 20 minutes and I got home by 3:30 he was still an hour away at his job. He didn't think I'd be home then. Oh well. He doesn't want to communicate, I won't.

So we weren't starting well.

I sat in the back of his little BMW, silently reading and working.

Son stayed with us in the hotel the first night, a buffer. We were polite.

The next morning we went to school. I had been apprehensive about Son's choice. Tech is HUGE. Too big for Son, even if he is in the honors program with "only" 500 kids. But orientation changed all that. The meetings were multimedia extravaganzas. The school is totally organized, offers more assistance and services than I could ever fathom. The dean of the honors program is as human and approachable as he is brilliant. Wow.

Son was so excited - they pumped him up and then took him away. The honors program makes all decisions his, they talk to him, just telling us (separately) what they told him.

Thursday night we dropped Son off at the dorm at 5pm for the night and then...we were on our own.

Did I tell you this is Ex's Alma mater?

So Ex took me on a walking tour of the campus. I couldn't stop saying, "Wow! Awesome! Gorgeous!" The school is breathtaking, dynamic, fabulous. I hadn't been there in about 20 years, and I don't think I ever really had a tour. Ex was very accommodating, cheery, talkative, informative. It was so weird, but nice.

Then I realized we were not really talking. He was sharing his vast knowledge of the place, enjoying his walk through time. I told him I appreciated the tour and making me feel better about Son's choice. He said he was happy to do so. But any "conversation" beyond that didn't happen. I tried. Nope.

After the 2 hour walking tour in 95 degrees, we headed to the alumni house for a parent reception. We were early and headed to the bar for a rum drink (or two) on an empty stomach. I thought we would talk. Nope. Couldn't get him to toast the success of our Son without twisting his arm. Oh well the bartender and I shared rum knowledge. Ex seemed perplexed with my new-found rum knowledge.

Then we went to the reception. We ended up sitting with 2 dads also sending sons to school. We shared angst, laughs and drinks. Finally I realized we needed food, so we headed downtown for dinner.

We shared sushi for dinner. Sushi. In our 20 years of marriage we Never. Ate. Sushi. Turns out we both love it, both discovering that After the D. Of course he opted to sit at the bar and eat rather than share a table. And talked to the guy next to him not me. Again No Matter - I made my own fun with the bartender and some other folks.

Then we went for "one last drink" at The Famous College Bar. We shared a table with a guy we had met at dinner. Again we didn't have to talk. I tried a couple times. But really we stopped talking years ago. Decades even.

It was so weird to be with him in so many ways. Honestly I'm used to being with the Captain and we talk about everything all the time nonstop. Hard stuff, silly stuff, it's all out there. We hold hands everywhere and kiss at red lights. I briefly forgot Ex doesn't talk about anything. He walks 5 paces ahead of me. He does not answer questions. We never held hands while married. Kissing to him was an obligatory 30 second prelude to what he really wanted. I don't miss any of that. I did miss the Captain. It would have been so much more fun.

Throughout the trip Ex was mostly cordial, as was I. But there were times His True Self came through (as, I'm sure, did mine). When he belittled me, ignored my requests, refused to discuss something, I simply ignored him and did things my own way. I refused to take his crap. When we were married, in the interest of "making peace" I took his crap all the time. Now, I don't have to. I didn't fight with him - indeed we both don't care enough about each other to fight any more. (think about that). No, instead whatever conflict was at issue I handled my way, ignoring him. The funny thing was, when I did that, he put aside his nasty self and turned back to the funny, accommodating tour guide. (he can be very, very funny). I wonder if I had been more forthright in our marriage, refusing to take his crap then, if perhaps we would still be together? Oh well, we shall never know. But I doubt it. And I have NO regrets - well almost none. I wish my kids' parents were still married. But I'm glad I'm not married if that makes sense.

The best part of the trip was the happy feeling I got walking around campus, going through buildings, seeing dorms, touring food places, walking by the duck pond, standing on the war memorial overlooking the drill field - and "seeing" Son everywhere, feeling him growing, learning and becoming a wonderful man there. It truly is the right place for him. I didn't get that feeling last summer when we toured New England schools where he insisted he wanted to go. Even when he thought he wanted to go to my Alma mater (ironic no?) I wasn't sure. I just couldn't see him there.

But now, he is embracing his triple legacy (grandfather, father and now Son - and Great Uncle) and he is poised on the verge of greatness. And that is all that matters.

A whole new meaning for "PIP"

Twice in 2 days I've been called a PIP.

Something like this:

OR maybe This:

Images are not mine - found through Google images at denver dog. and Fondos.images.

Yes, My new nickname is PITBULL IN PINK. one client (a friend) called me that and one partner (female and friend) called me that. I don't think I'm offended. I'm pretty sure I think it's hilarious.

Today I'm all in black and professional in my sheath (no I'm not going to a funeral wise a$$), but with adorable Betty Boop shoes. A girl has to be a girl after all. Even if she's a pitbull.

LOL!

When Credit Card Security is TOO Secure

What? Yes I really am going to rant about too much credit card fraud protection.

Hormonally imbalanced much? Or Stressing about Graduation? Yeah so what....

Here's the thing - at the grocery store last night - the same grocery store I shop at perhaps 20 times in a month (no joke) for the last 11 years. And my credit card is flagged "call in." It was a large order - prom dinner for 17 tomorrow night. And this card gives me 5% back on all grocery purchases, so I really wanted to use it.

But I couldn't for some reason so I used another. Fortunately, the customer service rep helping me knows me (ya think? after all these years? Hell they open up a special line just for me when I come through I kid you not), so she said, "Hey try another card" instead of embarrassing me right there.

Today I got a frantic email from Credit Card Company saying, "We are trying to reach you and are going to cancel your card." So I called. Apparently they called the house and the kids hung up by accident so they considered this "proof" that the card had been stolen.

Huh?

I said, "What activity suggested the card was stolen?"

Answer? "A strange computer code from your grocery store - the same grocery store you've been shopping at frequently."

Huh?

As I said, when Credit Card Security is TOO Secure. All fixed now. And they owe me $17 for my 5% cash back on last night's order..... as if.

And then he RAN OVER my laptop so there will be no more photos...

Just when you think things can get no more hectic and that teens can be no more shockingly negligent - WHAM - they run you over. Or they run over your laptop.

It started with a lovely dinner - just me and the Captain, a bottle of wine, some awesome fillets cooked on the grill on Saturday night.

Over comes Son from Next Door, takes away our empty plates and our steak knives and says, "I need to talk to you."

He sits down far away - purposefully.

"Thursday was a really bad day mom. Really Bad." Ut oh. I was away Thursday. In San Diego on a conference. Far Far Away.

"You see, it all started with the Scholar's Project. I put my musical composition on your laptop and had to take it to school. But the Powerpoint locked me out and I couldn't use it anyway so I had to do my Scholar's project on a white board and wing it [Wait - your big project that is a whole year's grade? Are you going to graduate? Wait you skipped on by - this is apparently not the bad part?]

"So after school I was hanging out with some friends and I had the laptop in my book bag and we decided to skateboard and then I went home. Without the book bag. Ihaveneverdonethatinmylife. So I zipped back to school and broke in and got caught by the janitor. " [wait are you suspended are you going to graduate oh this is not the bad part?] "The janitor helped me look, but we couldn't find it."

"So I'm thinking I'm screwed and then a friend shows up Friday with my bookbag - and the laptop and the wallet and everything. Oh except someone ran over the bookbag - because I had put it down in the parking lot while we were skateboarding -and now it's in pieces....."

So this is the bad part - my laptop, with all my photos on it - prom, first and last days of school, Spain trip, Jamaica trip, Christmas - all gone?? And you took it to school without permission and simply forgot the screaming fits I had when I found it precariously perched in various parts of the house over the last few months because of how important it is to me and how if you're going to borrow it you have to ASK (even in the house) and must guard it with your life??!! YOU FORGOT ALL THIS?

Yep, that's the bad part.

The Good part? I didn't yell. I took deep breaths. I cried. I talked about lessons and learning that something may be material but may have priceless value attached to it that cannot be bought again. That he's going off to school where it might be a girl that he must treasure, or a friend, or a life.

Took the laptop to my genius neighbor who says hard drive is bent - needs a forensic specialist. For 3 million 48 thousand dollars.

Good news? My backup hard drive is only....16 months out of date, so any photos before January 2009 aren't on there.

Oh but there's more good news - my Norton online backup is there and only ran out of room that I failed to upgrade in ... June 2009. And first day of school and Spain? I uploaded them onto Picasa. And Easter 2010 and Jamaica? Some are on Facebook, some are still on the camera!

So waiting to spend the 3 million on the forensic. Going to go back to neighbor to have him build me a computer.

And? I have a slave for the summer - Son is now an indentured servant. Forever.

And then my head exploded (as a favorite blogger of mine often says....)

When a Friend Isn't a Friend and It's time to Tell Her

I have had this Friend. We've known each other for years, starting about 10 years ago in Sunday School. Friend always seemed to be in the midst of a calamity - financially oriented. She's sweet and nice and well educated, but something about her, something about her life, invites financial disaster.

About 4 years ago she came to me in despair, asking for a "loan" if I could just spare it. She laid the guilt trip on me, too, because I am comfortable financially although not without my share of bills. But I have been blessed never to wonder how I could possibly pay the mortgage/rent. At the time I was married and so had that extra layer of financial support. So I wrote her a check. And not a small one. She assured me it was a "loan" and that when she got on her feet, she'd pay it back. I never expected to see it again.

About a year later she came to me again. Again in despair. Again begging for help. Again I wrote her a check - smaller this time, but still enough for her rent. I was still married and Ex had a cow. I told him it would be the last time.

After the divorce, she came to me again. I said No. I said I had my own difficulties and now I as a single parent and No. She was relentless - showing up at my office, calling me, telling me how outrageous it was and not her fault that she ended up in this situation. She showed up at my church where I was teaching Sunday School under the guise of "I've always wanted to come to your church" but after class she just wanted a check. Her situation was a mess. And so, I rented her a car (she had an accident and totaled hers, her fault, and no collision insurance). Without a car she couldn't work. Without work she couldn't pay the rent. 1 week of rental was all I gave her. And I demanded that we sit down with her bills and her finances and talk about budgeting and how to get her out of her situation. I do have financial training and thought that rather than just write her a check, I could help her with my other skills. She was very angry and didn't want to talk about it. I insisted but we didn't get very far.

OH and by the way, did I hear from her in between? No. Not really. I was busy and didn't care if I'm being totally honest. But it got to the point where if I saw her number pop up (thank GOD for caller ID) or got an email or a voice mail at work, I avoided it.

Last month it started again - she called under the guise of "How are you?" And I laid it on thickly - all the financial struggles, the pay cuts at work, the layoffs, impending college bills, possible home repairs because of the monster storm. On and on. Of course she was really calling for money and I fortunately gave her the impression that I couldn't possibly give her money. Then this week she called again - not intent to leave a message, but texting, calling, urgently tracking me. It wasn't enough for me to tell her I was busy and couldn't talk.

Finally today I called her back when I had 5 minutes - literally 5 minutes between calls - to let her know I had no money for her. And I told her, "The only time you call me is for money. That's a one way relationship that can't continue." Boy did I get the wrath of God thrown at me - she challenged me to "Find that in the Bible." And I said, "Find what - the fact that you only call me when you want something? I don't think that's going to be in the Bible." She said, "All the other people don't accuse me of this" and I said, "Maybe you give them more time and attention than you do me, or maybe they are just afraid to speak the truth." She tried to tell me that "this" was not in my heart. I said, "You don't know what's in my heart or my head so don't try to tell me what is there."

Plus? I'm out of town and going to be out of town until the 12th - how can I write you a check? She had the nerve to tell me I could wire the money to her!!!!

She said I was "pretending to be too busy to talk to her." I said, "WHAT? You don't think I work 60 hours a week, am a single parent, am dealing with my own strife? You don't think I was in a restaurant having Lunch yesterday with my Daughter, taking time out of a hectic travel/college visit when you called? You don't think I was in a Meeting with Big Potential Client today when you texted me? You don't think I'm on a train right now and have a conference call in 5 minutes?!!" The NERVE.

It was hard. This is a person who I don't think is a "bad" or "evil" person. I think she has incredible strings of bad luck. I do think she is a person of Great Faith. I don't know why all these things happen to her. But I did decide that although God does ask us to help each other out, that there comes a time when I get to decide (not her) if I should help her. And somehow helping her hasn't helped her. Once she demanded that I "had" to pay for her Real Estate license so that she could supplement her income. I told her 1) a real estate license is a bad idea right now [about 2 years ago right before the house/mortgage crash] 2)I don't HAVE to provide such things for her - I'm still paying off my own law school debt 3) if she thinks it's such a great idea, get a night job at McDonald's, save the $600 in a month and get the license herself!!

It was hard to tell her No. It was harder to say, "This is a one way friendship and I'm out." It is harder to wonder if perhaps God does expect me to take care of her. I don't know. There is a lot in the Bible about "whatsoever you do for the least of my Brother, that you do unto me." My own family has serious financial struggles but no one has asked me to pay their rent or demanded I buy things for them. Perhaps she is in more serious and desperate straights than they are. But something about this is telling me, "Enough is enough."

Is it Guilt telling me I'm wrong? Or just that I have lived my life as a Pleaser and let people manipulate me? I don't know....

I do know that my own 17 year old Daughter said (yesterday), "Mom this is a 1 way relationship - you need to tell her about the 4 kinds of relationships and tell her that when 1 person is doing all the giving, that's not a healthy relationship." Wow. out of the Mouths of Babes.

Done Communicating with Men

I have noticed a pattern recently in my life - I am constantly misquoted, misunderstood, misconstrued, misrepresented or simply blown off by the men in my life. And I'm done. It seems the harder I try, whether it's being more precise (and using shorter sentences) in emails, or speaking slowly and clearly, what I am saying or trying to achieve is so clouded as to be incomprehensible.

Yes I admit that sometimes I am not the clearest communicator, despite doing it for a living. But it's just getting ridiculous. For example (just in the last 3 days):

1) Email to Ex telling him that although Son wanted to go to Possible Future College for a visit this weekend, I couldn't take him until March 31. So Ex, FYI, I'm taking Son out of school March 31 and going to PFC. Ex's response? "You can't go with Son this weekend - I need him for X,Y.Z" HUH? I'M NOT TAKING HIM THIS WEEKEND.

2) Email to Ex telling him that Son was complaining about teeth and thought there was an infection so we stopped by Pediatrician who said check with Dentist re: wisdom teeth and they might need to come out. So I made appointment with Dentist for Son. (despite being with Ex this week, I got the complaints and made the Dr visits etc). Ex writes back: "Circle back with Dr. X [the dentist] first as I would value his opinion more than the Pediatrician." HUH? I SAID SON HAS AN APPOINTMENT WITH THE DENTIST - THE ONLY DENTIST WE'VE HAD THEIR ENTIRE 17 YEARS.

3) Partner tells me client said, "I'll call you in 20 minutes" but never did. I say, "Gee, I had the same thing happen about something else with same client. He never called me. And, honestly, it's difficult to get a hold of him which is essential if I'm going to help him." Partner says, "Why are you getting annoyed? What do you need to do right now?" [Partner is not litigator but it's His client, so although I am running case, I am forced to try to communicate my very different job with a non-litigator.] Conversation goes on for 13.76 grueling minutes in which no matter what I say I am misconstrued. We circle back to the reason Partner called - to inform me Client hasn't ponied up the extra $$$ for impending litigation. I was the one who told Partner we needed more money b/c "just filing suit" wasn't going to be enough and Client wanted War. Partner apparently totally forgot that - despite the fact that I had previously emailed it AND told him that over the phone. [typically we don't ask for big $$$ unless there's a good reason - like you want me to fly all over the country and take depositions and pummel them with discovery requests, etc.]. Eventually I just stopped talking, agreed with the Partner on whatever point he was trying to make, thanked him, and hung up. Aggravated.

3) Client emails me random "urgent" notice and asks if we can talk about it tomorrow. I immediately respond "Yes" with times. It's now tomorrow afternoon and client has not responded in any manner.

4) I email Other Partner to ask for advice on issue. Included in email was the "holy grail" of a lawyer's life, the client number to which he could charge his time for his advice - so if you get an email with one, you notice it. usually. After 4 or 6 exchanges (very enlightening and helpful, as this Other Partner always is), he asks me for the Client Number to charge his time. Oh you mean the one I gave to you in the initial email when I asked for help?

To be fair to these men, I have been on lots of cold medicine, antibiotics, steroids, and codeine trying to get healthy. And I also have lots of trouble communicating with my assistant who is a woman. So There is a Very Good Chance the problem is mine, not theirs. But just in case? I'm done talking to Men.

Oh except the Captain, who has the amazing ability to listen, remember, respond appropriately, and generally be an excellent communicator, friend and confidante. Good thing. Otherwise? My head would explode.

THE SNOW IN PHOTOS

Looking out my back door, across my yard to the little playhouse that the kids' Great Grandfather built in 1967.

Out my back slider to the trampoline in the distance. It's still snowing in this photo by the way...

Looking down my street - after the first big snow fall and just as the second one is starting. Notice my streets haven't really been plowed...

Looking up my driveway after the first big snow and the morning of the second one. We had shovelled the driveway twice already since the second snow began.

When Snowpocalypse Meets Snoverkill

These past few days have given me a glimpse into survival, into human nature, into the fragility of life and my own pathetic nature. Mostly I am impressed by what I see around me, but I am sorely disappointed in "government."

Friday night we started the Snowpocalpyse - my neighborhood got between 25 and 30 inches of snow. I live in a VERY old neighborhood with lots of old, tall trees and pine trees, which hold the snow until they can't and they fall over and break stuff - powerlines, houses, cars, people. It's rather scary. We lost a lot of powerlines. Saturday 4am we lost power.

Saturday we lived in the family room with the door closed and the fire going. We brought in loads of wood and keep trudging out to the woodpile to dig under the tarp for more wood. Dragging it back across a 1/2 acre in 2.5 feet of snow got challenging. [why yes I asked Son before it all started to get wood. But he didn't think of the magnitude of the snow, so he left too much of it on the pile]. I cooked eggs over the fire, made hot chocolate, reheated old dinners. We were surviving. We played card games, shoveled snow. Shovelled again. Shovelled again.

Saturday night I would sleep for about an hour then restack the wood on the fire. The temperature in the house dropped to the 40's but the family room was livable. And we had dogs and blankets.

By Sunday morning we were out of wood, out of patience. [note to self - you are a wimp. How did people survive Katrina? Haiti? I would not have made it] We were lucky to have hot water so we braced for a quick shower- nothing like stepping out of a hot shower into 40 degrees. Brrrr.

We packed up all the stuff we had bought for the big game, and a friend came in his ginormous construction truck and took us to his house. His small, adorable house packed to the gills with other "refugees." I cooked all day Sunday and fed the masses for THE BEST SUPERBOWL EVER. Who Dat and all dat.

Sunday I took my one Dog Queen Bee to another friend's and slept. Truly slept. Wow.

Monday, no power. I realized the one change of clothes wasn't going to get me through, so I spent Monday feeding the masses at Refugee central, then decided to hike back to my house for a change of clothes. Daughter had hiked off to another friend's house about 2 miles away with the other 2 dogs. Son was out working, snowplowing driveways and helping the elderly. Meanwhile neighbors were out canvassing, knocking on doors, getting out the older folks. They put one woman on a sled and dragged her a couple miles while other men carried her wheelchair so that they could get her to a safe place.

Wait - sleds, hiking miles? Where do I live? Out in the midwest? HELL NO I LIVE 10 MILES FROM DC. So why all the pioneering? Because they don't plow my neighborhood. Ever. If I could just get to the top of my street, I would be home free. Just 0.7 mile is freedom. but from here to there is hell. And I'm lucky - some of my neighbors just around the corner are barricaded behind trees and downed powerlines. With the new snow due tonight, they may not get power for another week. Fortunately as I returned to my house Monday night, I realized the furnace was running! POWER! It took 6 hours to get up to the 60's inside.

Pathetic. Totally and wholly pathetic.

We've had PEPCO power trucks in our neighborhood - they look down those side streets and say,"Gee, we'd restore power if we could get down there but we can't. See you later."

And the plows have entered our neighborhood- they do ONE street. One. And leave. We stop them and beg them to turn down another side street. For some reason they tell us they can't.

My neighbor took matters into his own hands Saturday morning and had a "friend" come plow him out. But just beyond his house, he left a 7 foot pile of snow, which is now ice. Our "through" street is no longer "through." We've had four 911 calls that had to turn around because of the pile. I finally called neighbor today and said, "The masses are ready to lynch you. Call in some favors and get that pile out of here. We are too busy digging our selves and our elderly neighbors out to deal with the pile of Ice you created."

We do not understand why we are abandoned. There are computer maps of our county that show that the richer neighborhoods have been plowed. But we, again, are ignored. At the very least, the county plows need to go out with the PEPCO trucks and plow out the streets with no power so that people can be restored.

No power isn't about comfort. It's about survival. Houses are 36 degrees. Pipes are in danger of bursting (some have already burst I hear). Older people cannot maneuver in the snow and are afraid to leave, but if they stay, they will die. I am so afraid of what we are going to hear after the storm is over. We are banding together to canvas the neighborhood, but I am afraid we have missed someone.

This is not a third world country. This is not the rural outback. This is the suburbs of Washington DC, and this is pathetic.

More Love from my Credit Card Company - no kidding

Remember how my LLBean card sent me a present - a really nice present? Kohl's has jumped on the bandwagon.

It looked like a delayed Christmas Card - a gold, thick envelope, nicely printed. I didn't recognize the return address or the individual named on the return address. So I opened it:

Dear Ms. Shops-Way-Too-Much:

Thank you for your recent purchases at Kohls. We want you to know that we value you as a customer and we truly appreciate your recent business. We hope you continue to spend way more money than you should at our store. Maybe we'll send you a wreath like LLBean."

Ok so those last two sentences didn't quite say that. But a personal thank-you note from my Kohl's card? I really need to stay home...which I have been doing. No shopping for me until ... a long, long time from now.

Heard Around the House

ME: [in my bedroom Screaming] Sh*! Damn and hell that HURT!!!!

SON: MOM ARE YOU OK???

ME: Yes Damn and Shi# and Frick OUCH OUCH OUCH

[exit Stinky Butt scurrying under the bed to escape the screaming Grammy]

SON: [yelling through my bedroom door] What did you DO?

ME: Smacked my foot into the doorway and twisted my knee - MY HURT KNEE frick frick frick!!

SON: Whaaat? How did you do that?

ME: I WALK INTO THINGS - WHERE DO YOU THINK DAUGHTER GETS IT FROM?!

SON: Oh, yeah. Right.

------- ----------------------------------------------------

[SCENE: morning before school starts - Daughter having been ready 20 minutes as usual, waiting for Son to show up from Next Door to leave for school in my car]

DAUGHTER: Grrrr we are so late YOU are Driving - I am NOT getting the speeding ticket

SON: [dragging feet and generally going as hit snail pace] NO I don't want to drive I'm tired. Plus you weren't really ready, mom just handed you a check for tonight's flute lesson. So I was ready first.

DAUGHTER: NO we were killing time waiting for you - YOU ARE DRIVING.

SON: Oh I forgot a jacket...[snail snail snail up the stairs]

DAUGHTER: [in the driver's seat fuming after backing the car out of garage to attempt to hurry him up]

SON: What are you doing? I'm driving!

DAUGHTER: NO you are late, I'm driving get in.

MOM: [WT*?] Buh-bye kiddies - always nice to see you [waving as they back out of the driveway]
-----------------------------------------------------

MOM: Have you studied for the SAT test yet? {you know the one you asked to retake b/c you didn't study the first time and you know you could do a lot better and really want to go to Dartmouth?!}

SON: I have off school two days next week - I'll study then.

MOM: Those days off are AFTER the test - your test is this Saturday.

SON: Oh yeah right. No I guess not....

Fascinated by Blood and Gore

Back from vacation but that will have to wait.

Yesterday tragedy struck in D.C. I was fortunate not to be involved. Thus far it appears none of my family or friends were involved. The morning commute has been crippled as fire, police, city and Metro officials try to sort out the disaster and try to figure out what caused the worst accident in Metro's 33 year history.

So much we take for granted. I used to ride that red line every day. Once the kids started driving to school, I stopped taking metro and instead let them practice driving to school then continued on my way with the car to work. I had decided that in the fall, I would go back to metro, having the kids drop me off as they pass on their way to school. Metro is fast, less expensive than driving and parking at work, "green," and normally, predictable. Yesterday changed all that.

But what irks me the most? People. Blood thirsty, gore-fascinated people. Rubberneckers. Gawkers. I almost ran a few over last night in my annoyance.

Last night I left work a little early to get to my summer soccer game. I am managing the team this summer and so have to pay refs and get people organized. I figured it would be good to arrive at least 5 minutes early rather than the quick slide into the game we usually do.

As I approached an overpass, I noticed helicopters circling overhead. 3 or 4 firetrucks had zoomed past. Police cars were coming from all directions. Clearly something bad was happening up ahead.

Then came the media trucks, zooming around everyone like they were entitled to. I noticed the Crowd, the Commoners, and pedestrians all abandoning their cars on the overpass and the surrounding areas so that they could rush to the side of the bridge with their cell phone cameras to have a look and get a photo. WTF.

I still didn't know what had happened. I had the news on but nothing had come over yet. Then an alert came in on the blackberry about a Metro train crash. And it dawned on me that the majority of the people creating a traffic jam on the overpass, impeding the progress of the myriad of rescue vehicles who might actually be able to help the people trapped below, were simply rubberneckers trying to get a view of the gore.

I was and obviously still am appalled. If I thought I could help, I would have stopped to help. But I realized my car would only add to the mess, keeping more fire trucks and rescue vehicles from getting to the scene of the accident. Instead I tried to keep an eye out for approaching rescue trucks to let them pass while trying to vacate the area and reduce congestion.

Now I understand why police directing traffic around an accident get so annoyed.

The latest count is 7 dead (down from the 9 originally thought) and 2 in critical condition, 72 taken to the hospital. I prayed for the families involved, for the people injured and for those who experienced the trauma of the accident. And I prayed for wisdom for the stupid people who didn't know enough to stop gawking and get out of the way.

What Torture is This now?

Women suffer it all (in no particular order other than random): waxing, teasing, plucking, scrubbing, mud baths, depilatories, child birth, sloughing, peeling, dyes, straightening, curling, ironing, injections, and now....

EYEBROW THREADING. WTF?

Because we haven't come up with enough ways to be - um - handled? Mauled? Abused?

And you can get it done right out in the open at the mall kiosk. Yeah. That's where I like to have my personal grooming done. Right where everyone can watch. Do the nose hairs while you're at it ok?

Am I alone here or does anyone else find this slightly offensive??