Nice Shot

I've tried to suck it up. To give this woman a shot. You know, before my older bro met her, I was actively wishing he would find someone to make him happy.

See, he had this steady girlfriend in high school. They dated for over two years...until he found out she had been cheating on him pretty much from the get-go. My bro kind of gave up on relationships after that.

There was nothing ever serious or steady. No bringing any girls home for the family to meet. It was really sad actually.

I personally think my bro is a douche, but one thing I can say for him is that he loves kids. And not in the creepy pedophile type of way. Babies to teens and he's always wanted a family of his own. So yeah, I was hoping he would find someone to settle down with and pop out a few kids.

(I'm not going to lie, I figure with a couple of grandchildren running around, my mom would leave me the fuck alone for a while. Added benefit.)

I am trying. I swear!

But, if you would ask me to give you a Top Ten list of people who bother the hell out of me, one of the entries would be: Pageant Moms.

There is just something not right about forcing a little girl (or boy) to parade around in glitzy clothes, make-up, fake teeth/hair, and perform like a trained seal so you can live vicariously through them.

But guess who just entered their youngest daughter in their first Little Miss Pageant!

Someone put me out of my misery. Please. I quit.

Beyond All Recognition

My older brother is marrying a cougar and I am pretty sure she is using him for his money.

There. I said it.

About seven months ago, we began to hear about this new "friend" of his. This was about the same time that my bro only began to call me if he needed something. Our conversations were mostly, "My friend needs some legal advice." and "My friend is having custody issues with her ex." Or "Could you help my friend out?"

He usually checks in with my mom once a week or so, but pretty soon, she was only hearing from him once a month.

Around the middle of November, we began to hear more and more about this "friend" and her two kids. She and the kids were supposed to drop in with my bro for Thanksgiving. This didn't take place because she broke up with my brother when he had the gall to listen to the messages on the answering machine.

See, what my bro hadn't told anyone was, that beginning in September, he moved in with this lady. He was still paying rent at his apartment and half the rent at her place. The messages he listened to were on the land-line. You know, the phone they shared in the apartment they lived in together.

(This from a woman who took my bro's cell phone, pretended to be him, and tried to get me to send a picture of myself so she could see what a part "jap" girl looks like. Don't even get me started on that again.)

They reconciled at the start of December and it was decided she and the kids would come for Christmas. They decided to spend Christmas with the cougar's mom last minute, so Christmas would be celebrated with my mom a couple weeks early. My mom rushed around buying gifts for this woman and her kids. Gifts from my mom, Ty, and me.

What did they get us? Absolutely nothing. Not even a thank-you. I'm fine with that, but they didn't get shit for my mom after foisting this on her last minute and staying at her place for the weekend.

It was then that my mom found out that this woman was 40 years old.

A decade older than my brother.

I've had two calls from my brother since then. Both calls attempting to gain information from me that could make me lose my job. For this woman. Ways so she could skirt around the system even more than she is already doing.

Working under the table so she doesn't have to report her income. Using my brother as an unpaid babysitter and chauffeur. Milking the system for SNAP and TANF by lying about said income and her living situation. My bro spent over $1000 on them for Christmas and they made him a rag blanket out of felt. I'm pretty sure the only reason she got back together with him was because he had already bought most of the presents. She probably couldn't afford rent without him too.

I don't think I've ever disliked someone so much without meeting them.

She is the antithesis of me and maybe that is my problem. A dependent loser that mooches her way through life.

This will be her third marriage that I know of. My bro proposed on New Year's with a very impressive diamond ring. Her post on Facebook announcing their engagement was something along the lines of "Look at this sucka! I guess he must love me."

Yes, because we all measure eternal devotion in carats.

Everyone else seems to like her, maybe I'm just in a mood. Maybe I'm just reaching on this whole thing, but it's better to get this out and not let it build.

This whole wedding thing is really freaking me out. I have so much anger and suspicion pouring through me that I don't even recognize myself anymore. I keep telling myself that I need to just get over it and be happy for my bro.

But what happens if I can't?

In the Name of Dog

I came home Friday to find Alex sitting on my front porch. It was highly unusual because I could have sworn I left him in the backyard just like I've done everyday for the last three years. He was so excited to see me and at the same time horrified because he knew that he had done something terribly wrong and was about to get in trouble.

Little weasel had managed to worm his way through the gate. I'm pretty sure a meter reader came by and didn't close things properly. I should just be happy that I've trained them to re-latch the damn thing at all.

I was mad at Alex for several reasons, number one being that he was a disobedient little jerk, but also for scaring the shit out of me.

Over the Thanksgiving holiday, my cousin Wy and his wife came down to visit the family. They brought their little French Bulldog Sparky with them. Allegedly, Sparky got out of my aunt and uncle's yard, made his way to the local Walgreens, and chilled out for a while with the Salvation Army bell-ringer. From there, a "Mexican man" came up to the bell-ringer, said "Hey, that's my dog!" took Sparky, and hasn't been seen since.

I say "allegedly" about this whole thing, because this is the fifth dog Wy has had in as many years. He gets a dog, keeps it until the newness of it wears off, and then discards it. Maybe he couldn't keep up with the exercise requirements (Max the Golden Retriever) or someone else wanted to buy the dog (Spot the Pitbull). Maybe it dug a hole in the backyard (Tiny the Great Dane) or it reminded him too much of his ex-girlfriend (Tuffie the Yorkie).

What I'm saying is Sparky's days were numbered from the get go.

My cousin and his wife left town that same day leaving my aunt and uncle to put an ad in the paper and offer a reward if they so chose. They just left him behind like he was garbage.

This happened on Black Friday. The next Friday they had replaced Sparky with an English Bulldog by the name of Maggie. Just like that.

If Alex had gone missing, I would still be frantically searching for him. I would have torn that town apart and ripped the person who took him limb from limb. Not that I think Alex would have gone willingly with anyone, and he's such a spoiled brat that whoever took him would have brought him back and begged my forgiveness, then declared themselves punished enough. Knowing my dog, I would have agreed.

I can't put into words how much I love my dog. He's my baby. He was mine, or rather--I was his, from the first moment he strutted over to me, plopped down on my feet, and begged to be picked up and cuddled when he was a puppy.

He's the one being I can always count on to be happy that I'm there. He's smart and brave and I swear he has the best sense of humor. He's always good for a hug or a long walk. He's just as excited to see me if I've been gone for five minutes or if I've been gone five hours. He's quirky and mischievous. He always has to be the center of attention and has this odd predilection for potatoes that I don't quite understand.

He's a dog in the best sense of the word. He's woman's best friend and I thank my lucky stars everyday that he's part of my life.

I could never imagine letting him be stolen by some stranger, let alone giving him away.

Sometimes I think my cousin is evil. Don't they say that sociopaths do horrible things to animals? I often wonder if I could find a way to have him banned from ever getting another dog. And then I realize that maybe I'm overreacting. To some people, a dog is just a dog. It's an accessory not to be confused with a family member. It's a creature, a thing. Not a human, just a domesticated animal that has a purpose to serve.

But how could you not love them anyway?

So There

It feels good...

It feels good to have paint smeared on my hands and under my nails again.

It feels good to chase Alex around the yard.

It feels good to look up at the sky and laugh.

It feels good to plot out a recipe for dinner tonight.

It feels good to know that I will soon be taking my first vacation in almost three years.

It feels good to know that I'm just going to lay around, read, and eat "good" food.

It feels good...

So there.

Frosty the Snow Bitch

If I could talk about work, I would say that, "Last week I had my mid-year evaluation and in that evaluation and meeting with my supervisor, she told me I was a cold, frigid bitch with an icy shoulder."

But I can't talk about work. I can't even talk about it when weird, awful shit like that happens. But I can tell you that I have a telephone interview this coming week for a new job. It's a preliminary interview, but we'll see how that goes.

I've come to realize that there are places in this world that a person can absolutely hate. Places that can make you hate yourself. You can struggle and fight and grit your teeth as you struggle for a change. But sometimes that change will never come.

You've got no choice but to give up.

You can only throw yourself against that wall so many times before you give yourself brain damage...I don't want to have brain damage.

I was told that I needed to "shape up and get with the program." Fuck the program. The program fucking sucks. I hate the program. The program can rot in hell.

Three and a half years. I've wasted my life for three and a half years. I can count on one hand how many times I've called in sick. I haven't had a vacation in two years. I show up every day and I do my fucking job.

I don't deserve this shit. I never did.

There is loyalty and there is stupidity and somewhere I got lost and crossed that line.

God, I got to get out of there.