Where You'll Find Me (Anywhere But Here); Also Electronics, Wha?

Starting Saturday morning, I'll be on vacation. I will post, probably, while away, but if I don't, it won't be because of some divorce-related disaster, torrential flooding, or anything like that. It will be because I'm having a better time doing something else.

I do need this vacation. It's been a good long time since I had a vacation and I am definitely in need of one.

That said, I now have a TV again (PdeFF gave me one from the Former ChezFoil). And a DVD VCR player. Please explain to me why the cable, which I don't pay for, gives me lots of nice channels that I don't watch (the giving me channels part, not the not watching part). Also explain why the DVD/VCR player shows the pictures beautifully, but has no sound. My computer has sound that goes on and off without me doing anything. What's that about? Electronics. Bleah.

Okay, I'll Link to Someone Else's Sex Post

'Cause I'm shameless that way. Twisty Faster, of the delightful (and thought provoking) blog I Blame the Patriarchy (really, who wouldn't?) wrote a post about blow jobs, and which has gotten lots of comment on other blogs, okay, at least one blog. I can't write about sex that way, but I found the discussion fascinating, hilarious, annoying, and deeply disturbing all at the same time. What do you think? Oh, and I found all this sex stuff through Reclusive Leftist, surprise, surprise. Yes, the more liberal/leftist you are, the more intelligent your thoughts about sex. Really. I told all the guys back in college, in 1980 (the first presidential election where I could legally vote, for all the good it did) that if Reagan and his godbag supporters won, there would be less available sex.* Clearly, the last twenty-six years have proven me right. Guys, consider giving women access to decent birth control and medical care and see if you get laid more often. Just saying.

Vacation Can't Come Soon Enough

Fortunately, I head up to the coastline of God's Country (that would be the coast of Maine) next week for FoilMormor's 70th birthday. However, this week has massively sucked beyond the telling of it, without exaggeration. Let's go to the videotape:

PdeFF thinks I need the same documentation to travel to New England that he needs to travel to Canada with the girls. I haven't pointed out that one trip crosses as international border and nowadays requires passports, and one is blessedly passport free given the free commerce and travel between the various states of this great land of ours as required by our constitution. Yep. In PdeFF's mind, interstate and international travel are the same thing.

TigerGrrl met with the court social worker today to discuss her feelings and her life. I resisted the urge to grill her on what happened, but I asked if the lady was nice, and TigerGrrl said yes, and proceeded to explain to me the things she had drawn for the social worker, etc. I actually like this woman, except for her interference in my family. She has told me that the minute PdeFF and I reach a custody agreement, she bows out. Her presence is simply a result of PdeFF reneging on our previously agreed arrangement (great!) and costing (so far: it will increase) an extra $6,000 in legal fees. Bye bye proceeds from the sale of the Former ChezFoil. Hello new and improved pissed off me.

My NewOld Counselor, hereafter "NOC" (the saga of returning to whom led to the start of this blog), was contacted by the court-appointed social worker, and the social worker indicated clearly to NOC that there was nothing that would keep me from at least joint custody. So I'm trying not to worry. I'll the court-appointed social worker's report in mid-July (after the trip to God's Country, which is, believe me, much needed).

Meanwhile, the area where I've been living has been subjected to torrential, biblical floods. Why not. We had the locusts* last year, or was it the year before? Anyway, previously the largest single day rainfall in this area was 1.9 inches, and between Sunday and Monday we hit close to 6" and it's late Tuesday night and it's still raining.

To cap it all off, GaahGirl is sick. She doesn't look sick. She looks chubby, hale and hearty. But she is one kid who can't keep down food right now. If this lasts another two weeks, she might be the size of an average kid twice her age. But even though she's running around burbling and chortling, I've got to get her to the doctor tomorrow. So another not quite full workday in my future.

I want to be in Maine with my Mother. Oh. Next week by this time I will be.

Aside from all this, my country is run by a man with less on the ball than PdeFF (and an equally sure grip on reality). Why should I worry?

*Seventeen-year locusts. Truly disgusting, if harmless, critters.

Being Really Productive; Mooching Off My Family

Today, PdeFF moved out. Finally. I got some of my stuff. Not all of it, but a lot of it. My own bed. FoilMormor's Hans Wehner (Danish Modern, valuable) dining room table and chairs. My oriental rugs (not supervaluable, but pretty). My cross country skis (not super-useful right now, but nice to have). My bike helmet (actually good to have when riding a bike, unless you don't mind head injuries a la Gary Busey, idiot that he is). A TV and VCR, but no connecting cable (and I don't get cable, so the TV is, at present, useless). I've spent the evening rearranging things, making the bed, setting the rugs, putting books on the bookcase.

All that was after working a full day, dropping clothes off a the dry cleaner's, grocery stopping, stopping off at the liquor store to find, happily, that Bushmill's was really, really on sale.

I managed to miss (how? with all my free time?) the notice for TigerGrrl's vacation workbook. Since it's French, I can order it from Amazon.fr, but that takes six weeks, and more money than I have. Then I remembered: Big Grampa lives in the land of the Euro. I emailed him the specs, and he emailed me back that he had ordered, with a rush, the book, plus several others, for his favorite six-year old granddaughter.

Before grocery shopping tonight, I stopped off at Talbot's (an upscale but none-too-fashionable ladies' clothing emporium) and spent the $200 gift certificate sent to me on my birthday from my Aunt Elsebet (plus $11 of my own) on a skirt (coral/bright pink/white), a sleeveless blouse (coral/bright pink), a tank top (fuschia), and a knit cardigan/jacket (black). Very productive, if I must say so.

Someday, I'll be self-sufficient again. In the meantime, I'm very lucky in my family.

New Found Empathy

Remember those "Baby on Board" yellow squares people used to put in their car windows? As though we should otherwise drive recklessly, but would drive safely when noticing that someone we otherwise would run off the road had their progeny in their (badly driven) vehicle? I once saw one that made me laugh, but I didn't quite get. It read: "Ex-Husband in Trunk." I get it now.

PdeFF is moving out (finally!) of the Former ChezFoil tomorrow. Yes. The damn house sold a month ago and the buyers are finally getting his sorry ass out. Needless to say, I have no idea how they managed that. The best part is this: I asked him where he was moving. He told me, "I'll have to check with my lawyer to see if I should tell you." Does he not notice that we're carting the children back and forth? And I've been staying nicely away from him (I fled, remember?) and it's highly unlikely I'll be suddenly overcome with the urge to stalk.

Innana had dinner with me tonight (nicely switching from the desired and planned Andy Garcia -- yum, yum -- movie Lost City when I told her I wanted to talk) and when she heard PdeFF's latest moving-to-no-known-or-at-least-admitted-address foible, she commented that he didn't have an apartment: he was moving in with friends. Probably, but then where are the kids staying when they're with him. I'm expecting a phone call that I need to keep them. While he sues for sole custody.

Other PdeFF annoyances include scheduling tennis on the morning of TigerGrrl's school fair (a weekend when he had the girls) and calling me and asking me to take them (I did, of course), and here's the clincher: He wants to take both girls to Canada. I can't find the link right now, but loyal readers will recall that last summer he left TigerGrrl (then FoilKid) in Canada with no plans to bring her back (with nice people, but nonetheless . . .). How many ways can I say "Hell no?"

He really would function much better in the trunk of my car. I'd have ballast, and he wouldn't be getting into so much trouble.

I'm Back and I'm Bad

Yup. Things still won't feel quite right until the hearing is resolved, but I am feeling better. Helped in large part by Ex-Marine Fred and SNV who threw a big birthday party dinner for Fred at a nice restaurant downtown. With good food, open bar, DJ, and actual dancing. I danced with Ex-Marine Fred and a very handsome Finnish man (yum) and spent a good part of the evening flirting with a very handsome Danish man. Plus all the Scandinavian eye candy on display. Innana danced too!

CNL stopped being cranky for a while and did a nice two-step, cha cha, and a bunch of other pretty impressive dance moves. Ex-Marine Fred used to be a competitive ballroom dancing, so he cut the rug nicely.

The best feature of the party was that Fred and SNV had people assigned to tables and husbands and wives were assigned to different tables. Only one couple resisted this . . . everyone talks more and more freely without a spouse supervising. This was my first really big social event (50+ people) since moving out and I had a great time. I didn't bring a date, I just turned up and mingled. Of course SNV and Fred are so nice that I knew their friends would be nice too (just look and Innana and me). Innana thoughtfully didn't drink and was kind enough to drive me home. That was nice as I was pleasantly pickled. I got home and had a big glass of water and two ibuprophen. While I slept late (8:00 am), I got up and got going.

Today, I've done some major cleaning: a thorough vacuuming, then steamcleaning the carpet (using the steam cleaner from Fred and SNV's magic basement), and sorting through paper, bills, etc. Feeling a bit more in control now.

Too Blue to Post

Right now, I'm just overwhelmed. I'm not being a good friend to Innana, who I miss, but we're both just drowning right now. I'm not enjoying work, not because my job isn't enjoyable, but because I'm just too tense. Until the custody hearing is over (more than a month away) life really is going to just suck. I don't even feel like writing or playing the guitar. I'm not answering my phone (except for Innana and FoilMormor's calls), and generally and just cranky as all shit. PdeFF? Still batshit insane and seeking sole custody. Wasting money, as he will not prevail (when the judge sees his diagnosis, psychosis N.O.S., that'll pretty much put paid to that bit of unreality), but still using what little power he has left over me. I need a few days at spa, a few nice meals out, and a decent haircut and color (doing it myself just isn't doing it for me). I can't spend my money on that as I need that money to pay my lawyer.

Someday this whole badly written soap opera will be over. Until then, grrrrrr.

Godlessness

I'm not posting a link to evil Ann Coulter's latest attempt at autobiography, but does she realize that she epitomizes the things she complains of?

Innana, Sweetie, Read This

Somehow, you've turned on comment moderation, but comments are just disappearing. Or you don't like my comments and you're just deleting them. Just thought you should know.

Today in History

Without planning it, today my reading material was very appropriate: John C. McManus's The Americans at D-Day. So, in recapping my own situation, my own life sucks, my Not-Soon-Enough-to-Be-Ex-Husband, PdeFF, is barking mad, batshit insane, a few brews short of a six-pack, not playing with a full deck, etc. (pick your own cliche) and threatening (probably ineffectually, but time will tell) my relationship with my daughters, but no one is shooting at me. Yet.

Riddled with Fear

Intellectually, I know that the custody situation will work out. But after a weekend away form my firls, I am simply filled with fear. Gut-wrenching, all consuming. Terrifying.

I am not the best mother on the planet, nor the worst. But I love my girls, I'm good enough, and I am their Mom. I do not want to take my girls away from PdeFF, but I don't want to lose them. And regardless of the new gender-neutrality, and the perceived advantage (not true, at least in my mind) in the courts, any failing by a mother is judged much more harshly than any failure by a father.

Common sense as well as my intellect tells me I just have to keep calm and once the final hearings, etc. are done, I'll have at a minimum joint cutody, which is what I want. But having strangers involved, people who don't know and love my girls, entering my life (and PdeFF's life, but that doesn't seem to bother him) as well as the lives of our friends, family, babysitters, our daughter's teachers, etc. makes it seem as though -- no, not just seem as though, it really is -- my ability to protect my children and raise them has moved out of my control.

Rationally, I know that looking at PdeFF's behavior and track record, I'm safe. But the social worker could have taken me in aversion unbeknownst to me. The magistrate, on the hearing day, might have had a fight with his wife and she looks just like me. Who knows? Out of my control in so many ways. Most things that are out of my control, I'm willing to just say, "Oh well." But I can't be sanguine or nonchalant. This is the most important decision of my daughters' lives so far, and unless PdeFF comes to his senses, someone other than my girls' parents will be making it.

Again, I'm confident that once the report is given*, I'll be able to relax and just be Mama again. But until then (not for over a month, final ruling in over two months), I'm really, really, really not liking this. I'm scared.

*Done for all disputed custody situations in my jurisdiction.

Less Than A Month Until I See My Mommy

We're heading up to Maine to visit FoilMormor for a week. I can't wait. I like swimming in the ocean in Maine (I'm half Danish, I'm tough). TigerGrrl will see LOS and her two gorgeous (and adored, by TigerGrrl and GaahGirl) teenaged sons, Sven the Viking and Christian. Avoid northern New England this summer as Sven has a fairly recent driver's license and learned risk assessment from his ski-jumping career.
For totally macho dudes, they certainly dote on my girls.

I can't wait, can't wait, can't wait. FoilMormor will nag me to death, but that's ok. The SecondMate (FoilMormor's husband) will spoil my girls rotten and generally be a gem. Summer in Maine. I'm getting a week of a real vacation. Yippee.

Late to the Party, but I Bow Before FSM, and Can Only Hope to Be Touched By His Noodly Appendage

I have found faith. Today, before going to court to plead for custody of my children, I had a plate of pasta. Things went well in court today (not conclusively, and finally -- the SOBs in the court system will leave me on pins and needle for about three months), and I turn, scientfically, rationally, to determine what caused my success.

Was it the Mary (Mother Goddess) medallion that Innana loaned me? Yeah, I can work with that. Mary is the Christianisized Mother Goddess, and she'd be on my side, so having her stuffed in my bra (hey, I didn't have a pocket) probably help. If I ever get breast cancer in my left breast, I'll have to renounce her, but I'll go with superstition.

But really, in eating a nice plate of pasta, I was actualy worshipping, unbeknownst to me, at the Church of the Flying Spagetti Monster.* And TigerGrrl and GaahGirl both love pasta, both Mac & Cheese (homemade by me) and various other noodly-type things with butter and cheese attanced. Therefore, it is clear that all the good that has come to me has come from the infinite love and kindness of the Flying Spagettie Monster (FSM or Him). Guys are noodly? Who knewN (actually, if they're over 30 and drinking, most of them are, it's a well known fact)?

Anyone who can disprove this theory, go to town, but my spaghetti carbonara, fettucini alfredo, and ziti alla puttanesca (a favorite) are much better tasting than your blessed wafers, and my underwear is prettier than your garments. Just saying.

Someday, if I'm lucky, I will be touched by His Noodly Appendage, just as it says in the Gospel. Somebody wrote it and printed, so I have to believe. RAmen.

*I had read of the FSM before, but was reminded of His Noodly Magnificence by Kyaroko here. I am grateful to Kyaroko for giving me hope of Noodly Goodness by posting about FSM and bringing his pastilential wonder into my life.