The time I almost killed the babe

2013/01/17 By

A time ago when I was still friends with Alice, I was babysitting Matt and Molly. I think it was visiting hours for Dipshidiot so of course Alice has to go see him.

I had both Matt and Molly in the bath and I was rinsing Molly’s head. She’s one of those babes that have little hair, all fine and wispy. Well, I don’t want to blame the girl, but as I was dumping a large cup of water onto her head, she moved suddenly and inhaled it. Well, not all of it. My initial reaction was along the lines of, “Oh fuck!”

Her eyes got huge and then she looked at me and it was if time had stopped. She grabbed my arm and got as face to face as she could with me and in her panic, I knew she shouldn’t see mine so I just looked at her with calmness. I didn’t even say anything, and not just because I wasn’t breathing either. I held her up as she was kneeling toward me and we had something similar to a staring contest, or deep connection. I was counting down in my head of when I needed to take action, and then she coughed.

I have never been more elated than when I heard her tiny little cough. It gradually became bigger and when she felt OK she simply let go of me and started playing with her toys as if it didn’t happen. She grabbed her cloth squish ball and threw it out of the tub — like she loves to do — and giggled up a storm.

I will never forget Molly. I won’t forget Matt either, as he as a huge personality, but he’s very independent. Molly taught me a lot. She taught me a lot about myself that I don’t think I would’ve known without her. Having to pick up on her cues, feed her, play with her, soothe her, clothe her, change her, teach her. Watching as she went from crawling to walking, formula to baby food to real food. Being out of my mind exhausted and at the same time still putting her and her needs first.

I really think Alice was a catalyst for me to experience what it’s like to have to put a child before yourself. And I never thought I would have enjoyed it as much as I did. Even the time where she threw up a whole 8 oz. bottle on me. It was projectile vomiting at it’s finest.

I miss Alice, too.

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My 2012 in Memes

2012/12/29 By

This will be my last and final ‘Hoorah’ for 2012. I bid thee farewell and please do not drink and drive. Why? It’s fucking dumb and who wants to be fucking dumb? Well, maybe Dipshidiot and Alice/Brittany, but let’s just say for the sake of now they don’t count. Now to let bygones be motherfucking bygones. I hope you enjoy. See you in 2013, lovelies.

My own photo.
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Not Sorry

2012/12/26 By

Keep on looking through the window again,
But I’m not sorry if I do insult you.
I’m sad, not sorry, ’bout the way that things went,
And you’ll be happy and I’ll be forsakin’ thee.

I swore I’d never feel like this again,
But you’re so selfish, you don’t see
What you’re doing to me,
I keep on looking through the window again.
No I’m not sorry if I do insult you.
No-o-o, I’m not sorry if I do insult you.

I need to stop, obviously, saying that I’m done writing about Alice/Brittany. I annoy myself, you could say. I care so much about a person who’s not worth caring for and then when it’s all done, everyone around me wonders why I cared about that person at all.

It became so bad I don’t remember or can’t figure out any of the good qualities that she may have possessed. I was angry with her so much it clouded and permeated everything. Being in that friendship with her proved to me time and again that she was incapable of loving or caring about anyone outside of herself. Her feelings toward you were conditional.

She replaces people, and quite easily. When I became friends with her, I replaced Lacy. I was told I was a better friend than Lacy. We get in a fight about Matt’s dad coming to see the kids and suddenly Lacy is a better friend than me because Lacy, when it was found that Matt Sr. was cheating, became angry and called his girlfriend an umpteenth amount of times calling her a slut/whore/stupid bitch. I’m not sorry that my maturity level lacks that of a 17-year-old’s.

I’m not sorry that I was there before Lacy came down, taking care of Brittany’s kids while she was holed up in her room sobbing on the floor. Who did she call when she needed her kids to be looked after while she wallowed in her pity? Me. Anything she needed, I was there. I’m not sorry that I was the one being a shoulder to lean on and trying to keep her from calling him all the time and begging him to love her and acting desperate. Because she went against my advice, Matthew actually told her that when he was here in June, she was simply a pity-fuck.

I know how men like him work, you sob and get all needy and they react with anger and become repulsed because, honestly, only the sick and twisted are turned on by tears, desperation and faking happiness like everything is going to return to normal. You get angry and harass their girlfriend, their girlfriend gets the idea “Oh, wow. She IS a crazy bitch, no wonder you’re leaving her.” You lose all credibility. I’m not sorry for not being Lacy.

Dipshidiot gets out of jail and he is living with her and she has again easily replaced me. Brian was her fuck-toy when Disphidiot was holed up and for a short while she was replacing me with Brian. Brian says something off to her kid and has one bad lay with her and gone is Brian, and I’m back in. Just in time to dog sit for her while she’s away.

Brittany has to depend on someone. She is far from self-sufficient and that is why she makes the perfect candidate for Dipshidiot. She has no friends here besides me and we’re no longer friends. Lacy lives in Georgia. All Brittany has here is her mom and grandparents. Dipshidiot has hit the jackpot — for the qualities he is looking for.

Keep on looking through the window again,
But I’m not sorry if I do insult you.
I’m sad, not sorry, ’bout the way that things went,
And you’ll be happy and I’ll be forsakin’ thee.

I swore I’d never feel like this again,
But you’re so selfish,
You don’t see what you’re doing to me,
I keep on looking through the window again.
No I’m not sorry if I do detest you.
No-o-o, I’m not sorry if I do detest you.

Brittany texted me Marry Christmas yesterday. It may have been a blast text, I don’t know. I texted her back a little over an hour later Merry Christmas and nothing since. I’m wondering if she thought I was correcting her. I wasn’t, but I would find it funny if she thought so.

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You Know How I Do

2012/12/22 By

So sick, so sick of being tired.
And oh so tired of being sick.
Willing and ready to prove the worst of everything you said about…

It’s been a full week now since Alice and I have talked. I don’t know exactly how I feel about that. I guess the feeling is kind of neutral. I lack care in either direction, but that doesn’t satisfy my innate curiosity on the situation.

Part of me has a bit of anger and resentment. One of our worst drag out fights happened when she was with Brian 24/7 while the man of her life [that's dripping with sarcasm] was locked up. I did a lot for her. I treated her kids as if they were my own, I was there with her when that shit with her husband broke out, I was a friend. I was honest, I didn’t sugar-coat shit, I treated her the way I expected to be treated.

What is going through her head right now? She told me less than a week before he was out that she told him that she would never choose him or any man over any of her friendships. I didn’t believe her, but still. She gets him out and doesn’t go to even contact me until I text her about the money she owes me. She gives it to me and then not a word since.

I’ve thought about doing a lot of things. Spite comes naturally. Contacting her landlord to tell her about him living with her. She does that background check and out the door he goes. Messaging her mom or sister on Facebook with the links to all his charges. Alice said her mom knows the truth about Charles. Alice wouldn’t know how to tell a truth if it depended on the lives of her kids. I’m not exaggerating. I could write a novel, a thick novel, on all her concocted tales and webs of deceit. She’s not good at it so it would be an easy write.

When I first began blogging about Alice, I told you I changed the names of people I respected. My respect for her is in the negatives. Her name is not Alice, it’s Brittany. One spiteful thing off my list. I know, it’s so small. That’s probably all I’ll do as Brittany tends to create her own hell rather easily so let the shit hit the fan naturally. If he hits her, it’s what she wanted so who am I to try to stop that?

So obviously desperate, so desperately obvious.
So good at setting bad examples.
Listen, trick, I’ve had all I can handle.

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Forgive & Forget

2012/12/20 By
I kick myself for not having come up with this first.

I kick myself for not having come up with this first.

Not only do I have a certain level of skill in bitchcraft, as defined in the above image, I also have a finesse of pissing people off who(m?) inadvertently pissed me off. *This is not to you, Cranky G, I feel I know you well enough now that if you pissed me off I’d say it to your face. I actually can’t figure out if that is a who/whom situation back there.* With that little asterisk disclaimer, I also realize when something pisses me off I have a tendency to put it on blast. All this makes me who I am. If we ever become Facebook friends and you “like” an image I disagree with, since I obviously cannot comment since you didn’t share it, I will post it and put a message on why I disagree with it. I’m just nice like that. It gives me the opportunity to let you know how I feel since you liking it pushed it into my newsfeed, essentially making me feel better that I was able to share my thoughts, without antagonizing you into a debate. Seriously. You should be thanking me for that. Case in point:

Why is everybody always picking on he?

Why is everybody always picking on he?

My devout religious friend who(m?) I love. I have known her since I was 6/7 years old and went to church on Sunday with her. We may have been more into the lemonade and sugar cookies, but hey! At least we were there; AMIRITE!? She liked this image and with it came a message on how parents are lying to their kids and that we should only be teaching of Christ‘s birth. I get that, you wouldn’t think I do, but I do. I understand Jesus is the son of God (no, I didn’t just Google that.. sheesh) and should be celebrated during the Holidays. It may not have helped that this post was from an anti-gay marriage page (yes, my friend and I are opposite sides of 2 coins that come from 2 different countries that somehow became glued together. That’s what friendships are made of — er, maybe just mine.), but my friend LOVED Santa Clause. It was the magic of belief and for her to have grown up into this woman who(m?) now believes (going to push the boundaries here) Santa is the devil (thanks, Water Boy)?? So, of course I debo’ed the image and posted it with a message basically stating that the belief in magic is just as harmless as the belief in miracles. We still message each other and have a pretty good long distance friendship, but she’s become used to my hardly subtle retaliations just as I have grown used to her Romney minded, anti-abortion, anti-gay rights, put everything in God’s hands all the time and drop His name is every conversation ways.

406688_3953126755899_1538820705_n

Playing with fire here…

Say hello to Dipshidiot there on the left. That is a beautiful tree he and Alice picked out, but I am sorry to say it fails by design. Is this what all redneck Christmas trees look like? I think Charlie Brown did a better job.

I haven’t spoken with Alice since she rescued Dipshidiot from the horrible confines of jail. On Saturday I went to pick up my money from her, but I chose not to see his redneck ignorant ass (he makes rednecks look bad) and stayed in my car making her bring it out to me. We didn’t say a word to one another except me a ‘thanks’ and her a ‘you’re welcome’. Really, in her language it’s your welcome. So I am done. I haven’t deleted her off FB just yet for current purposes unknown. Possibly to see if she posts anything about Dipshidiot other than a distant profile shot.

I am actually kind of enjoying the fact that she’s not texting or calling me. So here is me forgiving and forgetting the saga of Alice & Dipshidiot:

Sheesh, it's pretend. Don't get your panties in a twist now.

Sheesh, it’s pretend. Don’t get your panties in a twist now.

 

 

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