Diary · of · an · Insane · Housewife

 Well I am now almost divorced. I filed for legal seperation and it's only a matter of pure time before I am fully divorced from that motherfucker.

Yeah, I've been busy since my last update. I went to Colorado, drove across the country a few times with just Quin and the dogs.  I realized a lot about myself.  I've lost a few friends and made some new ones. I have entirely let go of my past.  Any and all things negative have been eradicated.  And it feels great. A little scary, but invigorating at the same time.

Wish me luck bitches!

 Quin has been so sick since Sunday night.  We're talking super high fever (104 +) here.  High fevers freak me out because I am so scared he is going to have a seizure. I can handle a lot of things in life, but I know that I could not handle that.
Back when Dr Mom was still living, I would call her at least twice a week with questions about Quin's health.  Dr Mom was cool, she was an old hippie (and also one of the smartest and most intelligent people I have ever met in my life) and she liked to explore natural remedies and such.  She was also very wary about antibiotics, even before everyone else was.  And I remember calling her one time about Quin's high fever (he was about 2).  SHe said super high fevers that come on really fast like that are indicative of a virus and antibiotics wouldn't work anyway.  Keep him hydrated, watch the fever, and just buckle down and deal, because chances are it's going to last at least a week or more.
So that's what I've been doing.  Fever checks every hour, piggy-backing Tyelenol with Motrin every 4 hours (which is not fun all night, 4 nights in a row now), and about 1000000 juice boxes a day. Poor little guy is so sick, he doesn't even want to move.  I have to force him to drink a juice box every few hours. I even gave him a huge glass of soda last night (something he never, ever gets, but wants allll the time!) and he only drank a few sips of it :(  He won't eat anything...just a few Jello snacks, popsicle, and those Soup at Hand cups.
I have not found a doctor for him down here yet.  The one I took him to when he had the poison ivy really bad when we first moved here, well, she wasn't even a fucking doctor.  She was a nurse practicioner, which is cool.  My mom is a NP.  But I was paying to see a *doctor*. If I had wanted him to see a NP< I would have taken him to Mom and got a prescription from her.  Then the stupid Nurse P had the nerve to talk over Quin and myself as I was trying to explain to her Quin's illness.  I do not play when it comes to my kid.  Listen to me explain how my son is sick and listen to him when he's trying to tell you, or I will lay you the fuck out.  Period.  So yeah, after I told her that, she threatened to call the police. I told her that the next time she ignores my sick son like that, she *better* call the police and then I left.
It's simple stuff like that that I miss.  Quin's old pediatrician was a mirror image of Dr Mom.  In fact, Dr Mom recommended her to me.  They were buddies in med school. I loved Dr Oakley.  I loved her so much, I would probably fuck her if she asked me to, LOL!  She knows Quin, she knows me and she knows that if I am talking about my son, she better sit down and listen.  And she always listened to what we were telling her and used that in her diagnosis.  I am seriously considering putting him in Whitney (the BMW's Christened name) and driving all the way back up to Hagerstown (4 hours one way) just to see Dr Oakley.  He needs to see a doctor today. This fever does not look like it's going to break anytime soon.  And maybe, just maybe, he does need an antibiotic. See, that's why I wish I had Dr Mom or Dr Oakley.  They would never, ever give him antibiotics unless that's what he needed.  Both of them would have told me to wait it out for at least a week and then to come in if the fever still hasn't broken.

I have been so wrapped up in my own misery and depression that I haven't even noticed some shit that's been going on with George and one my dearest, oldest friends.  Just all kinds of suspect shit that I have not paid any attention to until someone else brought it to my attention.  I am not the jealous or possessive or even the suspicious type. I just don't care that much and I am intelligent enough to know that if someone wants to cheat, they're going to do it and there's NOTHING I can do to stop it. Nothing.  I can hope to maybe catch them in the act, but I can't stop it and unless I do catch them in the act, I can't prove it, so why get all worked up over it??  That's always been my attitude about cheating and relationships.  Which is why I haven't noticed all the things going on right in front of my eyes. It took an outsider to say "Hey, that's kind of weird, don't you think?" and then for me to go ahead and talk about ALL of the other suspect incidents over the past 6 or 7 years.  The friend lives down here (well, about an hour's drive) and it's just gotten worse since we've moved here.  I am going to make a post all about that, and just get it all out on paper so I can really take a look at it and see if I am being a weirdo or if my concerns are valid.  But paying her car payment??  And then not telling me about it?? Ugh, I dont' want to get into it now because Quin is still so sick and my entire life and mind and soul is wrapped up in trying to get him better. I do not have the energy or mental capacity to evaluate that shit right now.
I also hate my cousin. She's such a selfish, self centered bitch. I've stopped selling weed to her too.  HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!  Now who's a selfish bitch???  She has no other weed connection anywhere on the east coast except me!  One would think she would treat me like gold, I know I sure would, hahahaha.  But no. So no weed for her!  Nah, I'll still sell her some weed, but she'll be just like any other customer.  No discounts, cash n carry, bags weigh exactly what they're supposed to and you have to go by MY schedule in order to get it. I used to deliver or stay home and let a few people come over for sales, but not her.  
You're going to have to follow my schedules now.  And my schedule is booked until late next week.  Have fun being weedless for the Holidays, you bitch!  Your husband is a scumbag anyway. He's probably cheating on you the way my husband is probably cheating on me, except I don't really care.  You care a lot. Sucks to be you!
God, that was so mean.  I used to only be mean to people I didn't like and I treated my friends and family with the utmost respect.  Not anymore, now I am just mean to everyone.  But like the whole cheating thing, I don't really care. I've turned into such a wonderful human being, haven't I?  Living here has done wonders for my morale.

I am burning in hell.  LIterally.  The heat index outside is 107.  The pool water is 89.  I am draining a good 3 or 4 feet of it and filling it back up with fresh, cold water.  I don't care that it's a waste of water and I don't care that I could get fined by the water company for filling my pool with city water.  They can suck my dick, it's fucking hot outside and the whole reason I have a pool is to COOL DOWN, not stay hot as fuck.

So I did go swimming and I feel so much better now.  It was the same story yesterday.  WE went to Baltimore, got caught in traffic (surprise, surprise!) and as soon as we got home, we didn't even go in the house.  Quin and I just went straight up to the pool, ripped off our clothes and dove right in.  It felt wonderful for a few seconds and then I realized how hot the water was.  
So we did that again today.  Someone wanted to come and see the house (of course, it's the hottest day of the year, I have major cramps and they gave me 1 hour notice) so I busted my ass cleaning it all up and broke a serious sweat.  Then I had to pick Portia's fat, uncooperative ass up and put her in the garage and drive around aimlessly for 2 hours. When we got back, we went straight to the pool again.  This heat is CRAZY.

George is still out of town, working. I  miss him so bad and I don't know how we're going to get through this.  Everything is pretty much up in the air.  Nothing I can do about it but take it one day at a time and keep Quin and his education/happiness as my number one priority.  That's all I can do.

I have to drop Quin off at school in a few minutes.  It's his first real day.  I am hyperventilating and sweating at the same time.  Even he got a little freaked out when I told him I would have to leave him there.  Jesus, this is hard.

He's got lunch money...they serve lunch and that seems a little weird, but whatever.  He'll see if he likes their lunch and if not, he says he wants me to pack him a bunch of snacks..."like a soldier."

I begged George to take the time off to stay with me.  He's coming home to take Quin to school and to pick him up so we can do his first day together, but he's not staying home with me!  God help me.

I am out of weed and am suffering from PMS.  Please.  I just want everyone to LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!  I want to lie down on the couch, put my feet up and read stupid books.  I would also like to smoke a blunt, so if anyone wants to do that, then you can come over.  But if you are blunt-less and just want to come over to annoy the fuck out of me, now is not the time.

Besides, this heat wave is killing me, especially since the pool is broken. George is supposed to fix it tonight, although I did go swimming today.  I am probably going to die because who knows what kind of bacteria is floating around in that stagnant, $40,000 pond??

And I've discovered today that Neo has been pissing on the laundry baskets full of clean clothes throughout the upstairs hallway.  I fucking hate that dog.  I go to grab Quin's shorts and they're WET!  I was like, wtf?, and then I sniffed the air and lo and behold.

I had to send him outside because I really want to castrate the fucking dog.  He's had his balls chopped years ago and Portia NEVER goes in the house, so what the fuck is his problem?

I hate that stupid fucking dog.  If I was a bad person, I would give him away..I really would. 

This awful weather is making me CRAZY!  I seriously cannot take it anymore.  I.have.to.get.away.

I plan to make a huge update about my trip later, but for now I have to share what happened on the shuttlebus from Flagstaff to Phoenix.

Leah and Michael had baked me some pot cookies for my trip because face it, flying just sucks.  I took a tour bus thing from Flagstaff because I hate little planes and I wanted to see some more of AZ.  The group on the shuttle was a wonderfully diverse group and we were all chatty and sharing our lunches and such.  There was a 70 year old German lady seated next to me and she was just so sweet and kind.  She shared her strawberries and bananas with me, as everyone was sharing their packed lunches.  We were about an hour outside PHX when I decided it was time to start munching on the pot cookies..I wanted to be good and baked in the airport and on the plane.  I tried to discreetly get them from my bag, but the lady spotted them.

"What kind of cookies are those?"  She sweetly asked.

"Brown sugar cookies," I answered as I was stuffing it into my mouth.

"Brown sugar cookies!!  I love those!!  Can I please have one?" 

Now what was I supposed to do?  Look like an asshole and deny this sweet lady cookies, or give a 70 year old grandmother a pot cookie.  I quickly thought about it and decided to give her the smallest one in my little bag.  She gobbled up, begged for another and again, I didn't know what to do.  Besides, I get really, really stoned at altitude.  So I gave her another one.  About 15 minutes later, she is all like "Those are the best cookies I've ever had!!!"  Poor woman had a hellish flight itenerary, with an eventual 8 hour flight back to Germany.  She was also fucking baked.
I know I am going to hell for this, I just know it.  But she caught me off guard and I couldn't exactly announce that they were pot cookies and risk being thrown off the shuttle in the desert.
I had quite a long wait before boarding so I headed to the nearest bar to down Amstel Lights and smoke.  About an hour later, the poor woman was wandering around PHX airport.  She spied me in the bar and made a beeline to me, asking for MORE cookies.  This time, I refused her because I was already FUCKED UP after eating 4, so I could only imagine her state. I told her that I didn't have anymore, at which time she made me write out the "recipe" on a napkin and gave me her email address to send her more "baked goods" recipes.
I totally just made up the recipe.
God help me, I got a 70 year old grandmother who was about to experience a straight 24 hours of plane travel high as fuck...and the poor woman didn't even know!

It's a thousand degrees outside.  I broke down and turned on the AC last night and it felt oh so good.  I can only imagine the river of humidity that was washed out of the air.  I wanted to wait as long as possible and I guess I did.

Pool is still not ready.  I don't know what's wrong with it, all I can do is continue to throw money at it and hope for the best.  And it's too fucking hot out to manually vacuum it, so I either have to wait for the sun to go down (and the mosquitoes to come out) or burn the fuck up.  I choose to do nothing and just hope that it gets better.  Or maybe George will fix it.

I tried to go makeup shopping today.  With Quin.  At the Outlets. It was seriously one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  By the time I made it to the fucking Cosmetics Outlet, I was drenched with sweat and I wanted to die.  Then, I get in the store and it's so cool and refreshing, i want to take my time, but Quin keeps pulling on me and acting like a maniac.  I finally grabbed a few things, paid way too much for them, and got home and realized that I had bought lip liner instead of eye liner and this super, duper thick foundation.  I doubt they accept returns so maybe I can sell it on eBay.

Running low on ganja and the thought of driving to the hot ass purgatory that is Baltimore makes me want to vomit.  I can't go at night because I am too sketched out about cops and going during the day means sweating my motherfucking ass off.  I wish they sold nuggets at fucking 7-11.  My life would be so much easier.  

Leah is still telling me to hold on before coming out, which is kind of good because I've spent all my money.  Well, not all of it, but jesus, the tickets will be around $900 and since I am currently credit card-free (yay for meeee!), that means I have to shell out the cash at once.  George won't get paid until Thursday so I have to wait until then anyway.  Besides,  I am not too keen on riding on a turbo prop plane when it's so fucking hot out..the air never works and the sun beats on my face so hard that by the time I get to wherever it is I am going, I am fucking blind.

Even though I showered this morning, I believe I may possibly smell bad.  And I need to shave my legs.  So I think I am going to take a nice, long COLD bath.  Seriously, I am that hot.  It wouldn't be so bad if I had a motherfucking pool to swim in, but I don't.  So my only other option is to hide out in the house until the sun goes down..and even then, the humidity is so bad I still sweat like a man.

If you could read my mind love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old time movie
'Bout a ghost from a wishing well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
You know that ghost is me
And I will never be set free
As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see

If I could read your mind love
What a tale your thoughts could tell
Just like a paperback novel
The kind the drugstores sell
When you reach the part where the heartaches come
The hero would be me
But heroes often fail
And you won't read that book again
Because the ending's just too hard to take

I'd walk away like a movie star
Who gets burned in a three way script
Enter number two
A movie queen to play the scene
Of bringing all the good things out in me
But for now love, let's be real
I never thought I could act this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it
I don't know where we went wrong
But the feeling's gone
And I just can't get it back

If you could read my mind love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old time movie
'Bout a ghost from a wishing well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
But stories always end
And if you read between the lines
You'll know that I'm just trying to understand
The feelings that you lack
I never thought I could feel this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it
I don't know where we went wrong
But the feeling's gone
And I just can't get it back

Oh yeah.  Tomorrow, I am going to the reenactment at New Market.  My mom has always been a reenactor (she's hot shit with it too) and she's invited Quin and I to meet her there tomorrow.  She has even made me a new dress, although I could easily fit into the ones I used to wear when I was in 7th and 8th grade and being dragged to every reenactment in the country.  But the new dress should be beautiful and she found me a corset to wear.  So my mission for today is to rip up some old bedsheets and make some pantaloons and a petticoat.  I also have to rewire my hoop skirt.
She has an outfit for Quin too so this should be fun.  He is going to have a blast, I just know it.  Otherwise, I wouldn't go.  Or I wouldn't get dressed out, but if I want to hang out with Mom, I have to.  She's not camping and for that I am thankful because you don't know what hell is until you have to camp out in a period Civil War tent that has no bottom to it and use all period items and utensils.  I do have to strip my nails (they're getting so long and pretty) and with the jaw being wired shut today (let's pray that he doesn't do it, but you never know), I'll have to keep my mouth shut the entire time.
And since George is an asshole (oh yeah, we're probably getting a divorce), I will have to go sans man which means I am either a widow or a harlot-you decide.  I'd rather be a harlot.
It's funny how much I remember.  I know how to curl my hair into long sausage, bouncy curls and which jewelry is acceptable.  I am such a nerd, I know, but I am actually pretty excited!  I'll get to see people that I haven't seen in almost 15-20 years!  And it's fun to get all dressed up and the pantaloons are always crotchless-that nice cool breeze blowing up the skirt feels GOOD, hahaha. They are crotchless so I can just lift up my skirt and pee-which I think is pretty cool.  Well New Market is always dusty and dirty, so I might cheat this time and put a crotch in 'em.  No one will be able to tell or think I am a farcey fake asshole, which we all poke fun at.  But Mom is such a freak and she knows her shit (she's served on numerous committees and teaches living histories everywhere-that's what she's doing tomorrow), she might get mad, so I can't let her know.
These things are actually pretty interesting and a lot of fun.  I hope Quin has a good time!  He's old enough to where he doesn't have to wear a dress, but these cute little knickers with knee socks.  She found him some shoes too, so yeah, we're excited.
It's at New Market battlefield (duh) tomorrow and I dn't know what time the action starts.  But we'll get there early to see everyone and mingle with the surprisingly small crowd of reenactors.  It's like a little family and they haven't laid eyes on me since I was in 8th grade, so it should be fun.  Not that I've changed much..in fact, appearance wise, I haven't changed AT ALL, which is pretty depressing if I stop and think about it.  But whatever.
Believe it or not, I can't wait and I can't wait to see Quin's face when he saws al the soldiers lining up and all the horses and stuff.  Plus, there's always hotties that are all sexy with their civil war garb on, with their horses...oh, I love the Calvary.  It will make me miss my stepfather something fierce I know, but it's time to face that and deal with it.  And if I am to be a widow, I'll have a black veil over my face so no one will see me cry.  And that's important to me for some reason-I don't like people to see me cry.  It's a private thing.  But Mom says she has two dresses for me and I just have to decide if I want to be a harlot or a widow.  She will, of course, be a widow and she actually IS a widow.  My stepfather was a bigwig with this shit too so I know he will be greatly missed and I know everyone will be wanting to talk about him.  She handles it better than I do.
Anyway, if anyone is in the area and wants to come and see me in my big ol hoop skirt and long sausage curls down my back, come on ova!

I am about to leave for my surgery. I am so nervous and scared that my stomach is in knots.

Mom isn't here yet, she's supposed to come sometime soon though, she'll probably get here while we're at the oral surgeon's office. I am so happy she's coming because George is being his usual dickhead self. Can you believe he actually tried to get some last night? Here I am, in severe pain and absolutely terrified about this morning, and he's sticking his hands down my pants every 5 minutes. Dickhead.

I should be home around noon or so....

My little sister has lived in/near Roanoke VA for most of her life. There is a giant, neon star that sits atop this hill and you can see it from almost anywhere in the entire city.
A few years ago, I was down visiting and Mag and I were headed to Roanoke for some shopping. It was dark already and we were cruising along the little beltway when Maggie said "Holy shit, will you look at that?" I looked and looked but couldn't see anything new and exciting and Maggie stunned me with "That star must be really close to earth! You can see all five points and everything!"
I laughed so hard I to pull the car over and just cry.

**************************

I was putting highlights in Maggie's hair about 4 or 5 years ago and she was being very bossy. "Put this highlight here, this one there" until finally I told her to shut the fuck up and do it herself then. She looked at me with her big brown eyes and said "But you're trying to make me look like a cheeto!"
"A cheeto, Maggie?"
"You know, that cat with spots, you idiot!"

***************************

When Angela's Ashes the movie first came out, we all took a bunch of bong hits and sat down to watch it. My older sister and I had read the book and found it very moving so we gathered up the not-so-bright sisters to watch the movie with us. We explained "consumption" to them and that it meant that the person was infected with TB.
Jessie, who is older than me, asked "But what do they consume?"

American Idol is wrong. I feel so lame, but goddammit, I liked Kellie. I wanted her to win. She was such a nice girl.
So fuck American Idol. I'm not going to watch it anymore, which is great because now I can Tivo Criminal Minds instead of their gaywad show.

I have the flu and I think I am going to die. My fucking back and legs are KILLING ME! I swear, the only time I've ever had pain in my lower back like that was when I was in freaking labor!
Sky high fever and life just generally sucks. George decides to go to work, of course. He can take the day off to stay home and harass me, but not when I am fucking sick and dying. Because Quin doesn't care that I am sick. Well, he cares, but he still needs someone to make him breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, change his clothes and basically do all my normal chores. Fucking prick!
Alan came up, though, and brought me some Thera-Flu which is the nastiest shit on earth, but damn if it didn't help me. It helped me enough to venture out of bed and come check my email, and there about a million of them. I will get back to everyone as soon as I can.
In the meantime, I am going to guzzle Nyquil, put fresh clean sheets on the bed since George is too much of a lazy POS to do so and continue to lie in bed and cry. And that is seriously what I am doing..my legs and back hurt *that* bad. I am not a pussy either, I went thru natural childbirth, but this flu shit is kicking my old lady ass.
To those that are in my area, it's going around so if you come in contact with someone that you believe may be suffering from this certain strain, shoot them immediately. Or just flat out run away. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. Well, maybe Bushbitch, but no one else, not even his doormat, helmet-haired wife.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
An out of control barge is barrelling down towards the Severn River bridge at RT. 50.
If this bridge gets taken out, no one will be able to get to the Eastern Shore. Rt. 50 is the only way over the Bay Bridge and if people can't reach the beach this weekend, it's fucking ON in Maryland.
But if the barge is out of control and headed towards the Severn River bridge at 50, does that mean it's going to take out the Naval Academy? LMFAOOOOOOOO.....
Whoever the captain of this barge is, he better get his shit under control because he is about to be Maryland's Public Enemy Number One. Keeping people from the Shore and Ocean City AND taking out the Naval Academy? Oh, it's toooo fucking funny.
No one should be hurt, they know it's coming so the bridges are both closed and hopefully, if the barge can't be stopped and it makes it's way to the Academy, people will have evacuated in time. So I don't feel too bad for laughing hysterically at this breaking news.