Dear Mrs. PTA President,
I'd like to write this letter to address your numerous Facebook posts begging for assistance. With everything, probably to include wiping your big ass. Actually, I would hope that your husband would handle that for you. I am beginning my fourth year in elementary school (3rd grade daughter) and my second year in elementary school (1st grade daughter), plus the five years I spent myself in elementary school, which should have been six years, but the school system I transferred into was still 20 years later trying to put itself together after the MRI. That would be Massive Resistance Incident. Actually, that school system is about at the 50+ year mark and it's still not got it's act together, but that's a whole other issue.
I appreciate the time and effort that you and the other mothers put into the PTA. I especially appreciate your weekly newsletters and how many trees you must contribute to killing on a yearly basis. However, it's not even November and I've had just about enough your perkiness. Here's a list of all of the shit that the PTA has orchestrated thus far this year, along with what I've done.
* Back-to-school picnic. This should have just been called "Take your kid's supplies to school and get roped into picnic on the playground". Well, I wouldn't have even gone, but since the school requires about $150.00 worth of supplies at the beginning of the year, it was more shit than my kids could carry on the bus. I opted not to help, mainly because I don't like the PTA moms (more on that later), and because I just didn't fucking feel like it. We also didn't buy dinner at the picnic because I didn't want to eat cold pizza or the local chicken shack. And, I was crabby that day, too.
* September Chicken Shack night - nope, didn't do this, but we never do this one. Thank God, the older daughter doesn't like Chicken Shack, and besides, why would you do a monthly fundraiser for a school with an enrollment of 1000 at an establishment that can't possibly seat more than 78? Per the occupancy code the last time I was in there. Nooooo thank you.
* Back to School Teacher Breakfast - nope, I didn't volunteer to help with that, either. I have a j.o.b. and have to work on weekdays. Plus, I find teacher conversation to be quite boring unless it's related specifically to my children, and once teacher-type people find out what kind of job I do, they usually try to sidle off because it's not for the faint of heart. I tend to bring my career up to people I don't want to talk to, and then just let them remove themselves.
* PTA meeting and Back to School night for kindergarten and first grade - Yes, I went to this, but I wasn't quite so panicky about missing first grade information this year, especially since I've done first grade once on my behalf and once on my older daughter's behalf. And blissfully, the school has a new principal this year which meant that he didn't start out the PTA meeting by blathering on about the school rules and all of the accolades the county has or has not heaped upon him. The fact that he didn't even wear a tie was comforting, because I'm pretty sure the last principal thought she was a Neiman Marcus model, but that's what happens when your husband is a Hall of Famer. NFL, that is. And guess who didn't show up? That's right, baby daddy didn't show up. He's pissed me off so much and disappointed MY children so much in the past week he's getting ready to lose his capitalization.
* Back to School night for second and third grades - I did this one too, and even sat through another PTA meeting that was put on for the parents that missed the one held at kindergarten and first grade night. I withheld my vote that night, and you should have remembered to tell parents if they already voted that they should withhold their votes, too. Baby daddy was there for this one, sitting next to his next door neighbor whom I hate with a passion of all passions. May her hair fall out for her continuing to dye it all shades of brown, red and blond and then claiming that each is her natural color. Bitch, I'm not stupid. And, I know you didn't get your boobs done because no boob job sags like that eighteen months after the alleged surgery. You just got some fancy bras from Victoria's Secret and hiked those old worn out puppies up under your chin.
* Back to School night again, Bageezus Christ! But not for me because it was just fourth and fifth graders. If I'd been thinking ahead though, I would have gone and snuck into a fourth grade class and hung back and acted like someone's aunt so I would know what to expect for next year.
* County-wide donate denim stuff at the mall - didn't do this either because I didn't know what it was until you kindly took the time to explain on the Facebook page two days before the whole thing was over. And no, at that point I wasn't going to dig through my jeans to crucify myself about what doesn't fit so I could donate it. Dammit, those jeans will fit again! Sometime. I hope. But my boyfriend keeps telling me how much he likes my ass, so maybe I'll just stay the way I am.
* Boxtops - Yes, yes, yes, I do this, but if my kids and I make it through elementary school and neither of them wins the drawing for the big summer boxtop collection prize, I am going to be pissed. I spent months and months clipping boxtops, strongarming coworkers and family members, and guess who won the drawing this year? The older daughter's archnemesis. I shall spend this school year trying to figure out how to either fix the drawing so that one of my children wins, or just sabotage the whole damn thing.
* Join the PTA - Yep, I did this, too, although I don't know why because membership comes with no rewards and you're still going to kill trees and send all that shit home with my kids whether I'm a member or not.
* Kid's concert by some Wiggles-like singing group at the local mall - I actually thought about going to this, until I realized the tickets were $17.00 A PIECE. Wha?!?!?!?? Uh, I don't have that kind of money, and for that price, you need to have an open bar. So we didn't go and I elected to let the more affluent families of the school pick up that tab. And pick it up they did, because our school had the most number of tickets purchased and won a free concert at the school! Go rich families of my kid's school! You rock!
* Blurb on facebook about the PTA needing to borrow carnival games. I thought about being a complete asshole and purchasing a bunch of carnival games, and then having the athletic association reimburse me. And then, I was going to email you, Mrs. PTA President, and let you know that the athletic association has carnival games that you can rent for a small fee. Which would be half of the purchase price. I think that would have been completely fair, since you refused to loan the school mascot costume to the athletic association without a deposit check last school year. I must say, I giggled when I saw the athletic association represented at the Back to School picnic in their newly purchased mascot costume, just like a big, giant FUCK YOUUUUUUUUU!
* Fall after school program - Yes, I signed my kids up for this. They like it and I pretend like the cost doesn't hurt.
* Order pizza online from a certain pizza place and a percentage goes back to the school! - Wow! Except I don't like this pizza place and am pretty sure it's just baked throw-up. So, no, not doing that one.
* My Coke rewards - Holy fuck, whoever is chairing the fundraising committee needs to take a fucking break. I drink a lot of Coke and you shall get none of the codes. Nor shall I enter them for you.
* Fall fundraiser - I probably would have ordered something, except it all appeared to be complete crap. I don't need any wrapping paper, thanks though. The athletic association had a better fundraiser and that's where I spent my money. You should call the cheer director for tips, which I am sure she will give you but only after she makes a passive-aggressive comment about the mascot costume-deposit-issue from last year.
* Jogging Club - Okay, this is a good idea, especially because it's free, except I have a j.o.b. and can't get my children to school 15 minutes after I'm supposed to be at work to run around the bus loop for 25 minutes. The older daughter is still complaining about not being able to participate in this, but since I've found a neighboring athletic association that offers summer track and field, she might get her run in after all. If I can't convince her to go for swim team this year.
* Monthly jumpy house fundraiser - That's the baby daddy night with the kids and he's damn sure not going to spend any money on that, nor would he spent time jumping around in the jumpy houses with them. Two points to my super-fabulous boyfriend for jumping his heart out last time we went there.
* Skate night - I had to work late and my kids had homework. Maybe next month.
* Pizza joint night - Football and cheerleading practice, and we probably won't go next month because you've managed to find yet another TINY restaurant that we can all cram right into.
* Fall dinner and pumpkin night at school - Yes, I got your numerous emails pleading for volunteers to serve food and do other stuff. I'm not volunteering because I don't want my kids running around willy-nilly for an hour unsupervised, but mainly because I volunteered last year and most of you bitches wouldn't speak to me once you figured out I didn't live in your neighborhood. Mighty high falutin' considering I've run into Mrs. PTA Vice President in the nail salon a time or two completely bombed out of her mind and the last time she was so fucking drunk she couldn't hold her head up and had to prop it up on the nail drying station (a little problem there, Mrs. Vice President?), and Mrs. PTA Treasurer has an older son with absolutely no manners, breasts that hang down to her belly button, a deeper voice than my boyfriends AND a unibrow, and Mrs. Spirit Wear Committee chomps on bubble gum like she's getting her jaw ready for a home version of Deep Throat. The movie, not the Washington Post informant.
* Fall book fair at the local big-box bookstore - I volunteered for this a couple of years ago and really just wanted to spend the two hour time slot reorganizing and straightening up the entire store, not making small talk about what teacher wants what book. But I will go next month and buy a few books.
All in all, you do a great job. But please consider that some of us have a career that involves leaving our houses every Monday through Friday, and that some of us don't make the kind of money that I suspect your husband makes. And also consider that some of us are involved in the athletic association, and so we know what kind of little dirty games you play. Oh, yeah, and stop being so perky. Your ass is too big for that.
Best,
A Nearby Parent
Friday, October 28, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Annoyance Management
This started out titled as "Anger Management" but I don't consider my anger management problem to really be my problem. It would be the problem of those around me, except I refuse to not be accountable at this stage in my life. And old age does things to anger, like whittle it down to just sheer annoyance that is oh so slightly flavored with a little anger. I actually think this is worse, because I can read books and get counseling and shit for anger management. But annoyance? I'm thinking there's not a fucking thing I can do for that.
This week's annoyances:
1. I am annoyed that The Ex got married on Saturday morning (his weekend) and promptly pushed the children off on the older daughter's cheer director on Saturday afternoon for the rest of the weekend because I told him I was not available to have the children. Blame that on Mommy, I suppose, is how that whole conversation went down right before he tossed them out of the moving vehicle in front of the cheer director's house so he could rush home to have his normal two-minute sex marathon with a woman who reminds me of my stepmother. Although, his new wife is probably way smarter and saner than my stepmother.
2. I am annoyed that the cheer director then dragged the children off to football games and made the older daughter cheer. I think being involved in a rehearsal dinner the night before, morning wedding and afternoon reception were enough for the child, especially when the younger daughter was given the option of not playing football for her team. Again, my fault for having plans.
3. I am annoyed that the cheer director then let the children stay up until ten o'clock on a Saturday night knowing full fucking well that they had to get up at six-ish to get ready for the cheer competition. Hellooooo, my children are NOT trainwrecks because I make them go to bed at 8:30 every night.
4. I am annoyed that the following morning, at the cheer competition, the cheer director was not able to run up and down the bleachers because her knees are bad and so I had to be the one to go to the coach's meeting and do the music check. If you can't run up and down bleachers, maybe you should reconsider coaching and directing anything athletic. I felt catty and pissy and thus sprinted up and down the bleachers with great aplomb, taking two steps at a time on my way up each time. Two steps at a time on the way down is a big no-no for me.
5. I am annoyed that my older daughter's dance routine was a complete bomb, and because one girl's parents announced two days before the competition they were going out of town, there was no time to do substitutes in the stunt portion. We only had eight girls to begin with, and trust me, teaching second and third graders how to do cheer stunts is actually much more complicated than one would think. I don't care what anyone says - cheerleading is much more dangerous than most people give it credit for being. If anyone should have helmets and padding on, it should be the cheerleaders. So anyway, the stunt portion went right out the window, and the girls didn't have enough time to learn the adjustments in the dance. And it showed.
6. I am annoyed that the cheer director then felt it necessary to tell my older daughter that her team got the lowest scores in the competition, amongst all the other same-age teams for that division. Um, are you kidding me? Why the fuck would you tell a child that? Just because you feel bad about yourself doesn't make it okay to make other people feel bad about themselves, too. That was the precise moment in time that I knew: we won't be returning to this athletic association next year, if this same cheer director is involved. We've got a whole county to pick from, and dammit, I can bully someone into signing the free agent waiver. I also knew at that precise moment this is when I begin to back away from this woman and limit my children's activities with her, and by limit I actually mean exclude. I already know which athletic association we're going to but my older daughter and I talked, and I told her we're obligated to finish out this season with our current association, and she's fine with that. One game left, bitches!
7. I am supremely annoyed (the highest level of all annoyances) that The Ex started talking to the children last spring about taking them to Disney World this summer. I was not surprised when he didn't do it, and instead took them to the beach. That's cool, because I know that Disney World is not cheap, and I know they enjoyed the beach. I also hope that his girlfriend slept in the same bed with him, because when he and I went to the beach the year before I said I wanted out, I refused to sleep in the same bed with him. It was a double bed and I didn't want to accidentally touch him while I was sleeping. Gee, and he wondered later why I thought the marriage was a failure. I am positive it was just him, because Guy #1 and I had to sleep in a double bed while we were on vacation and I didn't even notice it was a double bed for the first four days. I'd cram my big ass up in a twin sized bed with Guy #1, for real-for real. But anyway, if you talk to your kids about taking them to Disney World, and then don't do it, then don't FUCKING tell them that you're going there on your honeymoon! I mean, for God's sake, that is just a shithead narcissistic move. Period. That's about him trying to get attention from his kids and have them oooohhhh and ahhhhh over how great it is that Daddy went to Disney World. What a complete douchebag.
8. And lastly, I am minorly annoyed about the whole roof repair thing. Finally got someone to give me a quote - yay! But they can't guarantee any repairs will be actually done before the end of the year - boo! Fuck.
9. Oh, yeah, I forgot one. This will be the pettiest of all of my annoyances, but I can own that. The Ex changed his facebook status as he was walking back down the aisle (I'm sure of that, because it's.all.about.the.attention.here), and who leaves a congratulatory message on his wall but my damn uncle! No! Uncle Hippy, you do not leave congratulatory messages on your only niece's ex-husband's facebook wall when he gets remarried six motherfucking months after getting divorced! That is just one great big HELL NO! Are you freaking kidding me? I've overlooked his fruitcake politics for all of these years, but damn! I'm sorry, but I have to draw the line somewhere and decide what I'm willing to put up with and what I'm not. And this is not something I'm willing to take lying down. Effective tomorrow, I will be signing him up for every conservative and ultra-conservative website I can find. Payback's a bitch, you know?
This week's annoyances:
1. I am annoyed that The Ex got married on Saturday morning (his weekend) and promptly pushed the children off on the older daughter's cheer director on Saturday afternoon for the rest of the weekend because I told him I was not available to have the children. Blame that on Mommy, I suppose, is how that whole conversation went down right before he tossed them out of the moving vehicle in front of the cheer director's house so he could rush home to have his normal two-minute sex marathon with a woman who reminds me of my stepmother. Although, his new wife is probably way smarter and saner than my stepmother.
2. I am annoyed that the cheer director then dragged the children off to football games and made the older daughter cheer. I think being involved in a rehearsal dinner the night before, morning wedding and afternoon reception were enough for the child, especially when the younger daughter was given the option of not playing football for her team. Again, my fault for having plans.
3. I am annoyed that the cheer director then let the children stay up until ten o'clock on a Saturday night knowing full fucking well that they had to get up at six-ish to get ready for the cheer competition. Hellooooo, my children are NOT trainwrecks because I make them go to bed at 8:30 every night.
4. I am annoyed that the following morning, at the cheer competition, the cheer director was not able to run up and down the bleachers because her knees are bad and so I had to be the one to go to the coach's meeting and do the music check. If you can't run up and down bleachers, maybe you should reconsider coaching and directing anything athletic. I felt catty and pissy and thus sprinted up and down the bleachers with great aplomb, taking two steps at a time on my way up each time. Two steps at a time on the way down is a big no-no for me.
5. I am annoyed that my older daughter's dance routine was a complete bomb, and because one girl's parents announced two days before the competition they were going out of town, there was no time to do substitutes in the stunt portion. We only had eight girls to begin with, and trust me, teaching second and third graders how to do cheer stunts is actually much more complicated than one would think. I don't care what anyone says - cheerleading is much more dangerous than most people give it credit for being. If anyone should have helmets and padding on, it should be the cheerleaders. So anyway, the stunt portion went right out the window, and the girls didn't have enough time to learn the adjustments in the dance. And it showed.
6. I am annoyed that the cheer director then felt it necessary to tell my older daughter that her team got the lowest scores in the competition, amongst all the other same-age teams for that division. Um, are you kidding me? Why the fuck would you tell a child that? Just because you feel bad about yourself doesn't make it okay to make other people feel bad about themselves, too. That was the precise moment in time that I knew: we won't be returning to this athletic association next year, if this same cheer director is involved. We've got a whole county to pick from, and dammit, I can bully someone into signing the free agent waiver. I also knew at that precise moment this is when I begin to back away from this woman and limit my children's activities with her, and by limit I actually mean exclude. I already know which athletic association we're going to but my older daughter and I talked, and I told her we're obligated to finish out this season with our current association, and she's fine with that. One game left, bitches!
7. I am supremely annoyed (the highest level of all annoyances) that The Ex started talking to the children last spring about taking them to Disney World this summer. I was not surprised when he didn't do it, and instead took them to the beach. That's cool, because I know that Disney World is not cheap, and I know they enjoyed the beach. I also hope that his girlfriend slept in the same bed with him, because when he and I went to the beach the year before I said I wanted out, I refused to sleep in the same bed with him. It was a double bed and I didn't want to accidentally touch him while I was sleeping. Gee, and he wondered later why I thought the marriage was a failure. I am positive it was just him, because Guy #1 and I had to sleep in a double bed while we were on vacation and I didn't even notice it was a double bed for the first four days. I'd cram my big ass up in a twin sized bed with Guy #1, for real-for real. But anyway, if you talk to your kids about taking them to Disney World, and then don't do it, then don't FUCKING tell them that you're going there on your honeymoon! I mean, for God's sake, that is just a shithead narcissistic move. Period. That's about him trying to get attention from his kids and have them oooohhhh and ahhhhh over how great it is that Daddy went to Disney World. What a complete douchebag.
8. And lastly, I am minorly annoyed about the whole roof repair thing. Finally got someone to give me a quote - yay! But they can't guarantee any repairs will be actually done before the end of the year - boo! Fuck.
9. Oh, yeah, I forgot one. This will be the pettiest of all of my annoyances, but I can own that. The Ex changed his facebook status as he was walking back down the aisle (I'm sure of that, because it's.all.about.the.attention.here), and who leaves a congratulatory message on his wall but my damn uncle! No! Uncle Hippy, you do not leave congratulatory messages on your only niece's ex-husband's facebook wall when he gets remarried six motherfucking months after getting divorced! That is just one great big HELL NO! Are you freaking kidding me? I've overlooked his fruitcake politics for all of these years, but damn! I'm sorry, but I have to draw the line somewhere and decide what I'm willing to put up with and what I'm not. And this is not something I'm willing to take lying down. Effective tomorrow, I will be signing him up for every conservative and ultra-conservative website I can find. Payback's a bitch, you know?
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Cranky
I am feeling pret*ty goddamn cranky tonight. Perhaps it's because it's 10:51pm and I'd like to be reading a trashy book in bed but instead I'm waiting on the clothes to finish washing because I need to pack up football and cheerleading stuff for the weekend, perhaps it's because I haven't sorted through the shit on my desk in a week, maybe even it's because The Ex deemed himself an involved enough parent to sign off on parental shit from the school tonight. My football picks from last week sucked complete ass, my house is a mess, but I'm really trying to look at the bright side of things. Here goes:
* I've decided that I will start calling everything old 'throwback'. So when my girlfriends hook back up with old hook-ups, I'm just going to call that a throwback hook-up. Maybe when I get a bill for something that happened last year (like medical companies like to do), I'll call that a throwback bill, which is different than when you just don't pay the bill and they keep sending you notices. Which has never happened to me. American Express.
* Despite a major fuck-up at work in the spring and a couple of minor fuck-ups, along with several panic attacks, I still got a great yearly evaluation. I straight up told my boss she was being overly generous. But, since my evaluation doesn't get me any more money, it's just generous in the most verbal of all senses. She told me, correctly, that I am my worst critic. I guess cheers for being accountable and being willing to publicly blame myself for my screw ups.
* I am spanking several different asses on Words with Friends. Want some of this? What what!?! Hit me up on superfreak929. Yep, that's me.
* After this week, cheerleading will slow down. If either one of my kids don't want to do cheerleading next year, it's no skin off of my ass. I'm quite disillusioned after figuring out that the cheer director (I'm pretty sure, but not sure enough to straight make the allegation to anyone in authority) most likely falsified the ages of some of the girls on the cheerleading squads for the competition, and when I almost painted her into a corner about it, she then had to go back and do double cover-up lies to make things right. Except they aren't right with me, and you can't go back and fix that, as far as I'm concerned. But next week we only have football practice, thank god, and I'm hoping that might get rained out.
* I'm working on an open (and anonymous) letter to Mrs. PTA President in my head. Expect to see it in writing within about a week or two.
* I finally got my children scheduled to see the eye doctor. My insurance only covers every two years, so I am hoping my older daughter's placement YET AGAIN in remedial reading club is strictly related to the fact that she can't see the words, not my suspicion that there's a slight reading disability in there somewhere. But the good news about that is that she's been placed in reading club before the parent-teacher conferences this year, which means I can find out what in the hell is going on a little bit earlier in the school year. And, there's a new reading specialist this year, so I am going to pursue again trying to get her tested without me having to take her to a private tutoring company for the tests.
* She and I had a good talk last night, and what I thought was anxiety about her father's wedding is actually fear about her upcoming tonsillectomy. She's upset that she won't be able to talk for a week. I love my children with all of my heart, but I can actually do with half the chatter, and besides, that's one week she won't be able to argue with her sister. I hope. God only knows what will come out of that week.
* Lots o' quality time with Guy #1 this weekend. Definitely looking like a highlight of the week.
* I've decided that I will start calling everything old 'throwback'. So when my girlfriends hook back up with old hook-ups, I'm just going to call that a throwback hook-up. Maybe when I get a bill for something that happened last year (like medical companies like to do), I'll call that a throwback bill, which is different than when you just don't pay the bill and they keep sending you notices. Which has never happened to me. American Express.
* Despite a major fuck-up at work in the spring and a couple of minor fuck-ups, along with several panic attacks, I still got a great yearly evaluation. I straight up told my boss she was being overly generous. But, since my evaluation doesn't get me any more money, it's just generous in the most verbal of all senses. She told me, correctly, that I am my worst critic. I guess cheers for being accountable and being willing to publicly blame myself for my screw ups.
* I am spanking several different asses on Words with Friends. Want some of this? What what!?! Hit me up on superfreak929. Yep, that's me.
* After this week, cheerleading will slow down. If either one of my kids don't want to do cheerleading next year, it's no skin off of my ass. I'm quite disillusioned after figuring out that the cheer director (I'm pretty sure, but not sure enough to straight make the allegation to anyone in authority) most likely falsified the ages of some of the girls on the cheerleading squads for the competition, and when I almost painted her into a corner about it, she then had to go back and do double cover-up lies to make things right. Except they aren't right with me, and you can't go back and fix that, as far as I'm concerned. But next week we only have football practice, thank god, and I'm hoping that might get rained out.
* I'm working on an open (and anonymous) letter to Mrs. PTA President in my head. Expect to see it in writing within about a week or two.
* I finally got my children scheduled to see the eye doctor. My insurance only covers every two years, so I am hoping my older daughter's placement YET AGAIN in remedial reading club is strictly related to the fact that she can't see the words, not my suspicion that there's a slight reading disability in there somewhere. But the good news about that is that she's been placed in reading club before the parent-teacher conferences this year, which means I can find out what in the hell is going on a little bit earlier in the school year. And, there's a new reading specialist this year, so I am going to pursue again trying to get her tested without me having to take her to a private tutoring company for the tests.
* She and I had a good talk last night, and what I thought was anxiety about her father's wedding is actually fear about her upcoming tonsillectomy. She's upset that she won't be able to talk for a week. I love my children with all of my heart, but I can actually do with half the chatter, and besides, that's one week she won't be able to argue with her sister. I hope. God only knows what will come out of that week.
* Lots o' quality time with Guy #1 this weekend. Definitely looking like a highlight of the week.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Not Being Married
I guess I've mentioned The Betrothal. And the fact that it's this weekend, right?
Well, this storyline actually started last month. For real, it started early in 2010 when I said I wanted a divorce, but we shall only go back to last month.
Her Awesomeness: (That would be me) Are you taking the kids to their football games on your wedding weekend? I assumed they would not be participating in games that day.
The Ex: What time are the games? (Like he hadn't already gotten the emailed schedule).
Her Awesomeness: Evening games. First game starts at 5:00, so the younger daughter needs to be there at 4:00.
The Ex: Are you taking them?
Her Awesomeness: It's your weekend.
The Ex: That's the wedding.
Her Awesomeness: Okay, so, are they going?
The Ex: Are you taking them?
Her Awesomeness: I had assumed they would be doing wedding stuff.
The Ex: No, they can go. All of the wedding stuff should be done by then. Oh, and can you take them that Saturday night?
Her Awesomeness: For the night?
The Ex: Yeah, can you take them?
Her Awesomeness: No, I have plans that weekend. (Which was not a lie, by the way.)
The Ex: *Silence* Uh. Okay, well I'll just tell my folks they have to take them for the rest of the weekend.
It actually went on a little longer than that, just because I wanted to make him squirm in realizing that I was not going to babysit on his wedding night. Helloooo, douchebag, did you really think your ex-wife was going to babysit on your wedding night, especially when it's her weekend off? Um, that would be a great big fuck no. FUCK NO. I mean, really, did he honestly think that?
Apparently so.
So this past weekend I mentioned to the older daughter that I needed to call her grandparents to find out who would be bringing the children to the older daughter's cheer competition this Sunday morning. I'll make yet another assumption and figure that their father won't be the one to do it, being that he will be freshly married. Right after being freshly divorced earlier this year. Imagine my surprise when the older daughter corrected me and told me no, they weren't going to their grandparent's house, they are spending the night with her cheer coach.
Which I'm totally fine with, but I need to make sure all of the cheer stuff gets to the proper place by the appointed time, as I'm not really willing to trust her father to get it done correctly this weekend. So begins several texts back and forth about where the kids would be staying on his wedding night and who would be taking the children to the cheer competition and the birthday party later in the day. What a fucking circle jerk that was. Jesus H. Christ.
First of all, if you don't plan to spend any quality time with your children during your wedding weekend (because that would require actual parenting), then why in the hell would you schedule your wedding on the weekend that you are scheduled to have the children? I mean, this wedding has only been in the works for about a year or so, so he's had plenty of time to sit down with a calendar and figure out my weekends and his weekends. Why not just get married on my weekend and ask to have the children for a few hours on the night before and then for a few hours for the wedding and reception? I know this isn't going to be the fanciest wedding, being that between the two of them, it's the fifth wedding. Yes, my math is inflated, but with this being her second wedding (2) and (+) this being his third wedding (3), that comes up to (=) five (5). See? Makes sense to me.
Second of all, if you are going to pass your children off on someone because of the aforementioned wedding, at least have the decency to make all of the arrangements for cheer competition and birthday parties in advance. Don't open the birthday invitation, see that it's for your wedding weekend, and then hand it to me like it's my responsibility. At least acknowledge the invitation is for your weekend, and then ask if I will handle getting a gift. But again, this would involve The Ex in thinking about someone else. Besides himself.
But it's cool. I'll roll with it and enjoy knowing that whatever I screw up this weekend, it won't be in the form of a legal union. My plans for the weekend, you ask? Well, I get off work at 5:00pm, but might manage to slide out a few minutes early. By 5:45pm, I plan to be bare-ass nekkid in the bed with Guy #1, who will also be bare-assed nekkid, and we will do bare-assed nekkid things like play Words with Friends on his cell phone, and he might even treat me to a shadow puppet show later in the evening. Maybe I'll make a frozen pizza at some point in the night, but maybe not. Maybe it will just be Toaster Strudel - who knows? Saturday morning we will do more bare-assed nekkid things together, and then we will pretty much spend the entire day together at a wine festival. And then Saturday night, maybe more bare-assed nekkid stuff, but maybe stuff with clothes on. The weekend is my oyster, you know? Sunday - cheer competition with Guy #1 in tow (but he doesn't know that yet and I hope he doesn't have too much of a hangover because that music gets L.O.U.D. as F.U.C.K.) and Sunday afternoon, yet a little more bare-assed nekkid stuff and maybe he'll read the paper whilst I clip coupons.
Most of all, though, I'll enjoy *not* being married, because I'm just not there yet.
Well, this storyline actually started last month. For real, it started early in 2010 when I said I wanted a divorce, but we shall only go back to last month.
Her Awesomeness: (That would be me) Are you taking the kids to their football games on your wedding weekend? I assumed they would not be participating in games that day.
The Ex: What time are the games? (Like he hadn't already gotten the emailed schedule).
Her Awesomeness: Evening games. First game starts at 5:00, so the younger daughter needs to be there at 4:00.
The Ex: Are you taking them?
Her Awesomeness: It's your weekend.
The Ex: That's the wedding.
Her Awesomeness: Okay, so, are they going?
The Ex: Are you taking them?
Her Awesomeness: I had assumed they would be doing wedding stuff.
The Ex: No, they can go. All of the wedding stuff should be done by then. Oh, and can you take them that Saturday night?
Her Awesomeness: For the night?
The Ex: Yeah, can you take them?
Her Awesomeness: No, I have plans that weekend. (Which was not a lie, by the way.)
The Ex: *Silence* Uh. Okay, well I'll just tell my folks they have to take them for the rest of the weekend.
It actually went on a little longer than that, just because I wanted to make him squirm in realizing that I was not going to babysit on his wedding night. Helloooo, douchebag, did you really think your ex-wife was going to babysit on your wedding night, especially when it's her weekend off? Um, that would be a great big fuck no. FUCK NO. I mean, really, did he honestly think that?
Apparently so.
So this past weekend I mentioned to the older daughter that I needed to call her grandparents to find out who would be bringing the children to the older daughter's cheer competition this Sunday morning. I'll make yet another assumption and figure that their father won't be the one to do it, being that he will be freshly married. Right after being freshly divorced earlier this year. Imagine my surprise when the older daughter corrected me and told me no, they weren't going to their grandparent's house, they are spending the night with her cheer coach.
Which I'm totally fine with, but I need to make sure all of the cheer stuff gets to the proper place by the appointed time, as I'm not really willing to trust her father to get it done correctly this weekend. So begins several texts back and forth about where the kids would be staying on his wedding night and who would be taking the children to the cheer competition and the birthday party later in the day. What a fucking circle jerk that was. Jesus H. Christ.
First of all, if you don't plan to spend any quality time with your children during your wedding weekend (because that would require actual parenting), then why in the hell would you schedule your wedding on the weekend that you are scheduled to have the children? I mean, this wedding has only been in the works for about a year or so, so he's had plenty of time to sit down with a calendar and figure out my weekends and his weekends. Why not just get married on my weekend and ask to have the children for a few hours on the night before and then for a few hours for the wedding and reception? I know this isn't going to be the fanciest wedding, being that between the two of them, it's the fifth wedding. Yes, my math is inflated, but with this being her second wedding (2) and (+) this being his third wedding (3), that comes up to (=) five (5). See? Makes sense to me.
Second of all, if you are going to pass your children off on someone because of the aforementioned wedding, at least have the decency to make all of the arrangements for cheer competition and birthday parties in advance. Don't open the birthday invitation, see that it's for your wedding weekend, and then hand it to me like it's my responsibility. At least acknowledge the invitation is for your weekend, and then ask if I will handle getting a gift. But again, this would involve The Ex in thinking about someone else. Besides himself.
But it's cool. I'll roll with it and enjoy knowing that whatever I screw up this weekend, it won't be in the form of a legal union. My plans for the weekend, you ask? Well, I get off work at 5:00pm, but might manage to slide out a few minutes early. By 5:45pm, I plan to be bare-ass nekkid in the bed with Guy #1, who will also be bare-assed nekkid, and we will do bare-assed nekkid things like play Words with Friends on his cell phone, and he might even treat me to a shadow puppet show later in the evening. Maybe I'll make a frozen pizza at some point in the night, but maybe not. Maybe it will just be Toaster Strudel - who knows? Saturday morning we will do more bare-assed nekkid things together, and then we will pretty much spend the entire day together at a wine festival. And then Saturday night, maybe more bare-assed nekkid stuff, but maybe stuff with clothes on. The weekend is my oyster, you know? Sunday - cheer competition with Guy #1 in tow (but he doesn't know that yet and I hope he doesn't have too much of a hangover because that music gets L.O.U.D. as F.U.C.K.) and Sunday afternoon, yet a little more bare-assed nekkid stuff and maybe he'll read the paper whilst I clip coupons.
Most of all, though, I'll enjoy *not* being married, because I'm just not there yet.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Love Thy Ex
Okay, that's a total lie. I think we all know I DO NOT love that bastard. I would love for him to stop being a douchebag, is what I would love. I would love for him to just voluntarily pay child support a couple of times a year, as a show of good faith, since I voluntarily did not ask for child support. I would love for him to go to therapy. I mean, it wouldn't do any good, but again - good faith. I would love for him to pay the children's medical copays in advance, especially since the health insurance is paid in advance, and without making me have to ask for reimbursement. I would love, love, love for him to see his children when he is supposed to, and I would love for him to come to their football games, cheerleading events, doctor's visits, school activities and various practices. But I will stop now, because this could just go on and on. And on. And on some more.
He is getting married this weekend coming up. Because this is apparently the best way to celebrate getting a divorce. I had to chuckle tonight, because the older daughter called him on the way home after the football games, and he's out of town - bachelor's weekend, I suppose - and he made a point to tell my older daughter that The Fiancee is lonely at home. First of all, why would you tell your child that? Secondly, I thought to myself, this is just the beginning for this poor woman. She has no idea what she's in store for. I wonder if she knows that he's made an effort on more than one occasion to tell me where the spare key to his house is so I can just stop by when I need to and let myself into their house to get stuff that the children have left over there. Not that I would do that, because that would be the beginning of me being charged with Breaking and Entering, but I have given some thought to just cracking the door ever so slightly and setting a squirrel lose in there. I can only imagine the havoc that would be wreaked by the dog if that happened. I like to fantasize that their house would look kind of like the house in Home Alone, but at the end of the movie.
It's good to dream, I suppose.
The children are dealing with all of this pretty well, and seem to be very excited about the wedding. I, too, am excited. Because if I decide to ever ask for child support, the fact that he makes more money than me and will have a double income will certainly make it easier for me. But for real, I know I probably won't do that. Even though I can, being that his attorney forgot to put the "forever and ever" clause in that part of the divorce agreement and my attorney said we wouldn't mention that it was left out. My greatest concern is that this marriage of his will fall apart in about five years and this woman who my children have gotten so attached to will disappear from their lives. Really, I like her. I like her a hell of a lot more than I like him, and if I had my druthers, I would just deal with her exclusively. This is actually a much better situation than if I didn't like whomever was going to be my children's First Stepmother. Better that I like her than hate her. And that shall be her new blog name, come next week. First Stepmother. Kind of reminds me of my first stepmother, except my children's First Stepmother really is more like my second stepmother, also affectionately known as Mothbrain. I just went back and read that and it sounds a little West Virginny. We'll just wrap it up, then.
He is getting married this weekend coming up. Because this is apparently the best way to celebrate getting a divorce. I had to chuckle tonight, because the older daughter called him on the way home after the football games, and he's out of town - bachelor's weekend, I suppose - and he made a point to tell my older daughter that The Fiancee is lonely at home. First of all, why would you tell your child that? Secondly, I thought to myself, this is just the beginning for this poor woman. She has no idea what she's in store for. I wonder if she knows that he's made an effort on more than one occasion to tell me where the spare key to his house is so I can just stop by when I need to and let myself into their house to get stuff that the children have left over there. Not that I would do that, because that would be the beginning of me being charged with Breaking and Entering, but I have given some thought to just cracking the door ever so slightly and setting a squirrel lose in there. I can only imagine the havoc that would be wreaked by the dog if that happened. I like to fantasize that their house would look kind of like the house in Home Alone, but at the end of the movie.
It's good to dream, I suppose.
The children are dealing with all of this pretty well, and seem to be very excited about the wedding. I, too, am excited. Because if I decide to ever ask for child support, the fact that he makes more money than me and will have a double income will certainly make it easier for me. But for real, I know I probably won't do that. Even though I can, being that his attorney forgot to put the "forever and ever" clause in that part of the divorce agreement and my attorney said we wouldn't mention that it was left out. My greatest concern is that this marriage of his will fall apart in about five years and this woman who my children have gotten so attached to will disappear from their lives. Really, I like her. I like her a hell of a lot more than I like him, and if I had my druthers, I would just deal with her exclusively. This is actually a much better situation than if I didn't like whomever was going to be my children's First Stepmother. Better that I like her than hate her. And that shall be her new blog name, come next week. First Stepmother. Kind of reminds me of my first stepmother, except my children's First Stepmother really is more like my second stepmother, also affectionately known as Mothbrain. I just went back and read that and it sounds a little West Virginny. We'll just wrap it up, then.
Friday, October 14, 2011
What It Do, Part Deux
So... part two.
Cheerleading.
My older daughter is doing cheerleading again. Again. I actually encouraged it, because I thought this year would be more fun, since I volunteered to be the assistant coach of her squad, and because I thought it would be more fun working with older girls. Well, girls older than five and six, anyway.
It hasn't really turned out like that. My older daughter has enjoyed it greatly, and that's what really matters, but Mommy... not so much. Here's the deal. The head coach of my daughter's cheerleading squad is also the cheer director of the organization. And that's cool, because sometimes you have to do double duty in these organizations, especially when so many parents won't step up. As cheer director, this woman has done about 100 percent better than the brainless idiot last year. That is most certain, but as a cheer coach, again... not so much. I understand that it's difficult to do both, but holy fuck, I'm getting tired of doing pretty much all of the work. I think I had realized this by the second game, and got a little aggravated by it by the fourth game. At this point, I just want to get this shit over with. The head coach/cheer director doesn't know I won't be at next weekend's game, and I think I'll probably let her know late next week. I mean, if The Ex is getting married that day, and my daughter won't be cheering, I don't really feel obligated to be there. Next weekend will be my happy little break.
I really want to regret coaching, but I can't, because I've gotten to spend so much time with my older daughter, and I really am searching for a way to enjoy my way to the end of the season, which blissfully, will be here in about another three or four weeks, provided our football team doesn't make it to the playoffs. And this football team making it to the playoffs would be about the equivalent of ummmm, I don't know, Tampa Bay making it to the playoffs? I keep thinking, just make it through. Just make it through. The awkward part is that we got rather snappy with each other last weekend at the homecoming game, and I basically yelled at her for yelling at my daughter for something stupid. Helloooo, if you saw my daughter running around with football sun glare stuff on her cheeks an hour before the game and didn't say anything to her about taking it off then, don't get nasty with her ten minutes before the game. And then act like the victim. Nothing can set me off more than someone acting like the victim. If you're going to act like a jackass, or a bitch, or whatever, at least own it when someone confronts you on it. I mean, goddamn.
So practice this week was a little strained, and I was tempted to just not even show up at all. Hey, how about you do some of this work? But that's not going to set a good example for my daughter, and I know it. I can make it through this, because that's what I do. And tomorrow, I think I am going to hang back and let her do all the directing. Okay, maybe not, but I'm going to try. Not micromanaging stuff is pretty hard for me, especially if I see it's not being done to my level of micromanagement.
The best part to all of this is that we won't be participating in basketball cheerleading. My older daughter has decided she wants to do Tae-Kwon-Do (karate!) and my younger daughter wants to go back to gymnastics. If it entails me not dealing with this woman, I am good with it.
Cheerleading.
My older daughter is doing cheerleading again. Again. I actually encouraged it, because I thought this year would be more fun, since I volunteered to be the assistant coach of her squad, and because I thought it would be more fun working with older girls. Well, girls older than five and six, anyway.
It hasn't really turned out like that. My older daughter has enjoyed it greatly, and that's what really matters, but Mommy... not so much. Here's the deal. The head coach of my daughter's cheerleading squad is also the cheer director of the organization. And that's cool, because sometimes you have to do double duty in these organizations, especially when so many parents won't step up. As cheer director, this woman has done about 100 percent better than the brainless idiot last year. That is most certain, but as a cheer coach, again... not so much. I understand that it's difficult to do both, but holy fuck, I'm getting tired of doing pretty much all of the work. I think I had realized this by the second game, and got a little aggravated by it by the fourth game. At this point, I just want to get this shit over with. The head coach/cheer director doesn't know I won't be at next weekend's game, and I think I'll probably let her know late next week. I mean, if The Ex is getting married that day, and my daughter won't be cheering, I don't really feel obligated to be there. Next weekend will be my happy little break.
I really want to regret coaching, but I can't, because I've gotten to spend so much time with my older daughter, and I really am searching for a way to enjoy my way to the end of the season, which blissfully, will be here in about another three or four weeks, provided our football team doesn't make it to the playoffs. And this football team making it to the playoffs would be about the equivalent of ummmm, I don't know, Tampa Bay making it to the playoffs? I keep thinking, just make it through. Just make it through. The awkward part is that we got rather snappy with each other last weekend at the homecoming game, and I basically yelled at her for yelling at my daughter for something stupid. Helloooo, if you saw my daughter running around with football sun glare stuff on her cheeks an hour before the game and didn't say anything to her about taking it off then, don't get nasty with her ten minutes before the game. And then act like the victim. Nothing can set me off more than someone acting like the victim. If you're going to act like a jackass, or a bitch, or whatever, at least own it when someone confronts you on it. I mean, goddamn.
So practice this week was a little strained, and I was tempted to just not even show up at all. Hey, how about you do some of this work? But that's not going to set a good example for my daughter, and I know it. I can make it through this, because that's what I do. And tomorrow, I think I am going to hang back and let her do all the directing. Okay, maybe not, but I'm going to try. Not micromanaging stuff is pretty hard for me, especially if I see it's not being done to my level of micromanagement.
The best part to all of this is that we won't be participating in basketball cheerleading. My older daughter has decided she wants to do Tae-Kwon-Do (karate!) and my younger daughter wants to go back to gymnastics. If it entails me not dealing with this woman, I am good with it.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
What It Do, Part 1
This is very possibly a several part update of what's been going on with me. In no specific order...
1. First of all, if you like my stuff, and you're on facebook, go to your search bar and type in "Curls & Stuff" and my page will pop up. There's only one Curls & Stuff on there, which is, yes, you guess it - me! So help a sister out and give me a like or two. Feed my narcissism. Actually, not, but let's get me up over that 25 mark so I can have my own web address or whatever it's called. And send me to your friends! Pass me around! Uhhh, trust me, that really is the first time I've ever said that.
2. Also, even if you don't like football, still check me out on Armchair Linebacker, which is a blog I have been invited to contribute to weekly. Fridays, to be specific. A homeslice of mine from high school does it with some friends of his, and they've come up with this weekly pretend gambling and commentary thing. This was the first week of us doing this, and I have to admit, I've enjoyed it so far. Me contributing to a football blog is about the equivalent of my homeslice contributing to a blog about The Real Housewives, so my commentary and weekly picks have more to do with team colors and graphics and other girly kind of pick stuff, but it does break up the monotony of three football geeks blathering on about actual football stuff like players and stats. Four of my five picks won this week, but because of the point spread (which I still don't freaking understand) I only won pretend money on three of the games. So my buddy told me when I emailed him to ask about it. Goddamn Indianapolis. That was $600 pretend dollars I could have used to get a pretend Brazilian and a real life roof repair. I don't know what's going to happen if I gamble all of my pretend money away and the season's not over. I guess I start pretend hooking with the other three players to get some more? Anyway, it's www.armchairlinebacker.com
3. The trip to Indiana and Chicago was great this summer. I survived the ride there, survived meeting the family, and survived the plane trip back.
Special notes:
* Driving through Indiana on a stormy night and using the lightening to look for funnel clouds really is scary as shit. In fact, it was the same night the stage thing collapsed at the Indiana State Fair.
* There's a lot of damn corn up there.
* Guess who won $60 buckaroos playing bingo at the American Legion hall? That's right, yo' girl did!
* One of Guy #1's aunts cornered me the second night there and wanted to know when he and I are getting married. That was a little awkward and it was hard trying to explain I really want The Ex to get his third divorce before I have my second marriage, especially whilst pinned up against pool table.
* The biggest trainwreck on the trip wasn't me or the dog, it was most likely his teenage daughter. Whew! for me.
* I feel a swelling of pride that I successfully navigated O'Hare. I know I can do anything now.
* I didn't understand why the flight attends in Chicago kept talking about flotation devices, and so I didn't pay attention. Jesus, we weren't going over any water! And then, when we'd been up in the air for about fifteen minutes, I made the mistake of looking out of the window. Oh my god, what is that? Uhhh, we were supposed to fly AROUND Lake Michigan, not OVER it. The only pilots authorized to fly me over water are the guys who do their thing on Air Force One, and Capt. Sully. I was pretty pissed that US Airways did not clear this with me in advance. So needless to say, the window shade came down and I pretended like I had never seen that huge blue expanse.
* My layover on the way home was in Philadelphia, and I got off the plane at Terminal B. My connecting flight was a Terminal F. Logically and alphabetically, that should have been a fairly short walk. Instead, it was a long walk to a shuttle bus, a long ride to another airport (it seemed like), and then another long walk. Holy fuck, Philadelphia, can all the terminals be in the same fucking jurisdiction?
* And finally, the biggest freak show in the Philadelphia airport? Got on the Richmond flight. Shout out, VCU!
4. The school year is off to a great start for my little angels. My older daughter got a teacher that she didn't know much about, but Mrs. Third Grade Teacher seems awesome in my book. She seems professional and somewhat detached, and all about using her website for parents to get information they need every night. My daughter likes her and Mommy is happy. And for some reason, third grade seems easier than second. My younger daughter likes her teacher, though she didn't know a lot of kids in her class. But she's enjoying the year so far and it's good for her to step outside of the friend box and make some new ones.
Next up: What It Do, Part Deux. We shall cover cheerleading, football, The Ex and maybe Guy #1.
1. First of all, if you like my stuff, and you're on facebook, go to your search bar and type in "Curls & Stuff" and my page will pop up. There's only one Curls & Stuff on there, which is, yes, you guess it - me! So help a sister out and give me a like or two. Feed my narcissism. Actually, not, but let's get me up over that 25 mark so I can have my own web address or whatever it's called. And send me to your friends! Pass me around! Uhhh, trust me, that really is the first time I've ever said that.
2. Also, even if you don't like football, still check me out on Armchair Linebacker, which is a blog I have been invited to contribute to weekly. Fridays, to be specific. A homeslice of mine from high school does it with some friends of his, and they've come up with this weekly pretend gambling and commentary thing. This was the first week of us doing this, and I have to admit, I've enjoyed it so far. Me contributing to a football blog is about the equivalent of my homeslice contributing to a blog about The Real Housewives, so my commentary and weekly picks have more to do with team colors and graphics and other girly kind of pick stuff, but it does break up the monotony of three football geeks blathering on about actual football stuff like players and stats. Four of my five picks won this week, but because of the point spread (which I still don't freaking understand) I only won pretend money on three of the games. So my buddy told me when I emailed him to ask about it. Goddamn Indianapolis. That was $600 pretend dollars I could have used to get a pretend Brazilian and a real life roof repair. I don't know what's going to happen if I gamble all of my pretend money away and the season's not over. I guess I start pretend hooking with the other three players to get some more? Anyway, it's www.armchairlinebacker.com
3. The trip to Indiana and Chicago was great this summer. I survived the ride there, survived meeting the family, and survived the plane trip back.
Special notes:
* Driving through Indiana on a stormy night and using the lightening to look for funnel clouds really is scary as shit. In fact, it was the same night the stage thing collapsed at the Indiana State Fair.
* There's a lot of damn corn up there.
* Guess who won $60 buckaroos playing bingo at the American Legion hall? That's right, yo' girl did!
* One of Guy #1's aunts cornered me the second night there and wanted to know when he and I are getting married. That was a little awkward and it was hard trying to explain I really want The Ex to get his third divorce before I have my second marriage, especially whilst pinned up against pool table.
* The biggest trainwreck on the trip wasn't me or the dog, it was most likely his teenage daughter. Whew! for me.
* I feel a swelling of pride that I successfully navigated O'Hare. I know I can do anything now.
* I didn't understand why the flight attends in Chicago kept talking about flotation devices, and so I didn't pay attention. Jesus, we weren't going over any water! And then, when we'd been up in the air for about fifteen minutes, I made the mistake of looking out of the window. Oh my god, what is that? Uhhh, we were supposed to fly AROUND Lake Michigan, not OVER it. The only pilots authorized to fly me over water are the guys who do their thing on Air Force One, and Capt. Sully. I was pretty pissed that US Airways did not clear this with me in advance. So needless to say, the window shade came down and I pretended like I had never seen that huge blue expanse.
* My layover on the way home was in Philadelphia, and I got off the plane at Terminal B. My connecting flight was a Terminal F. Logically and alphabetically, that should have been a fairly short walk. Instead, it was a long walk to a shuttle bus, a long ride to another airport (it seemed like), and then another long walk. Holy fuck, Philadelphia, can all the terminals be in the same fucking jurisdiction?
* And finally, the biggest freak show in the Philadelphia airport? Got on the Richmond flight. Shout out, VCU!
4. The school year is off to a great start for my little angels. My older daughter got a teacher that she didn't know much about, but Mrs. Third Grade Teacher seems awesome in my book. She seems professional and somewhat detached, and all about using her website for parents to get information they need every night. My daughter likes her and Mommy is happy. And for some reason, third grade seems easier than second. My younger daughter likes her teacher, though she didn't know a lot of kids in her class. But she's enjoying the year so far and it's good for her to step outside of the friend box and make some new ones.
Next up: What It Do, Part Deux. We shall cover cheerleading, football, The Ex and maybe Guy #1.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Uhhhh
I can't even type in "Stay Tuned" one more time because that shit has gotten old. I'll update Monday.
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