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Archive for December, 2007

My daughters – two wonderful, intelligent, creative, funny, loving individuals – are spending their holiday vacation with their biological father. 

They arrived in his care on Monday (Christmas Eve) at approximately noon.

Christmas was Tuesday.

Woe – wait.

Guess when they last saw their biological father?

Well, that would be August 5th.

I spoke with E on Wednesday – her 2nd or 3rd day with her biological father.

She was telling me of some strange voice mail recordings on her cell phone.

I responded with, “Did you share them with [fuck-head]? What did he think?]

She responded: “I can’t, he’s been out all day – he isn’t here.”

OH.

I see.

I know that the vast majority of parents need a break. They want their parents, or in-laws, to give them a hand iwth hte kids – to give them some breathing room – some adult time.

But the vast majority of parents have contact with their kids more than 10% of the year.

Seriously – my ex does NOT.

Does he really need a break?

After 48 hours?

If I only saw my girls for a total of [quickly doing math] 25 – 35 DAYS!!! per year … you can be certain that I’m not “going out” for a day – or even an evening – while I am with them.

But I also would never make the decision to live first 1,000 and then 2,000 miles away from them. After moving 3,000 miles away — the distance only shortened by their other parent’s decision to go to law school on the other coast.

Why does he continue to take their summers from them? To insist on removing them from their everyday lives? I do not understand. If his time with them is so very disposable – why put them through it?

I am anxious for some explanations. If anyone has a theory – or a disagreement with my assessment – please, let it be known.

I do not understand.

They’re such great people.

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Next up .. Holiday Lessons

I do not really like gin.

It gives me a horrible taste in my mouth.

Icky.

I like vodka. (mmmm)

Gimlets, basically made with liquor and sweetened lime juicea, are better with vodka than with gin.

I am capable of replicating the Gimlet at my local fancy-pants bar … the one where you add a little raspberry liqueur (Chambord) .. and it’s really good.

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At approximately 5 p.m., someone in my firm sent out an e-mail offering Patriots tickets for tomorrow’s game.

The Patriots are my team.

I want to watch the Patriots play football, in person.

    But when the e-mail arrived in my box, I had a moment where 1,000 thoughts flashed through my mind, as follows:

  • I have approximately 90 seconds to reply to this email.
  • Where the hell are they even playing?
  • What would Beloved think?
  • I wish E were home – it’s her I’d really want to bring
  • Isn’t it supposed to RAIN tomorrow?
  • If they’re in New York (game’s against the Giants, that much I knew), I’ll have to get a zipcar for the whole day, and maybe more – this is a lot of money – I know I (for once) actually have it, but still.
  • We were supposed to take care of J’s computer tomorrow
  • What if the seats suck?

Well.

  • They’re here, in MA
  • The seats rock
  • Beloved if upset with me (as in, disappointed – not as in mad)
  • E is mad (not disappointed) – apparently preferring to hear first-hand accounts to nothing at all
  • We really can afford it (tickets were offered at $80/each …. uh?  yeah.  we can do $160).
  • This is an amazing year – probably not to be duplicated. 
Clearly, I didn’t snatch the tickets.  Someone had them within 60 seconds … and I could have, if I didn’t hesitate.  
I wish I didn’t hesitate. 

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Holiday Failures

8 pounds up.  

Damn it!!  

I, as a result, found my way to the gym today.  

It was my first time using my iPod touch for the purpose for which it was intended.

Wow.  Was it gorgeous.

Seriously.  That Prison Break boy was cute to start with, but now he’s super cute.  And gorgeous.  But that was the iPod as much as it was him.

Hopefully I can continue to work in the work out (ha ha – play on words).  

It is not easy.

My hourly rate just went up.

That makes me feel like I must justify my cost – by working more.  The more I work, the more experience I have, and the more I’m worth those ridiculous numbers.

 But I need to work OUT, as well.

 Damn! (Again)

 There need to be more hours in the day! 

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I have no idea

why my paragraph breaks aren’t showing up.  I downloaded Leopard for my Mac a few weeks ago.Since then, Firefox is crashing pretty much every 10 minutes.So I uninstalled it, and now am on Safari.  I think I’ll try re-installing Firefox sometime soon – once I catch up with all the work I have to do.But in the meantime, is it Safari’s fault that I have no paragraph breaks in my posts?  I mean, this post alone has 5 of them, but yet it shows up as a single blocked paragraph.  

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I keep giving it in dribs and drabs.  When something happens that makes me either feel especially happy with him, or especially UNhappy with his competition, I throw $25 at him.  Yeah, $25.  Beloved has an acquaintance who lives in Iowa, and who could not decide if participating in next week’s events was worthwhile.I think if I was in Iowa, I would be thrilled.  I would be thrilled with the chance to do my part in stopping Hilary, Huckabee, Romney & Thompson.  The people I most want stopped.  I hope that my work slows down just enough that I’ll have time to keep up with the drama of the next few months.   Maybe I’ll even give Obama a couple more $25s.  

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I have been sad about the tiger incident since the first time I read about it, at post-Christmas day 3 a.m., while suffering from insomnia.  I used to visit those tigers.  I’ve seen Tatiana in person.My first sadness was over the re-realization that no matter how much tigers seem like the world’s biggest, cuddliest kitty cat, they really want to rip my throat out.   I love those animals.  Tigers and lions and leopards.  I always have.  When I go to the zoo, I could sit there and watch the cats forever.Once, in Oakland, a tiger peed on my shoe.  That zoo had a fence, not a moat.  Apparently, the fence allows visitors to get within pee-ing distance of the tigers, without endangering their lives.I am upset that a tiger got shot.  Not in relation to anything else about the story – it’s just SAD.I am upset that people think it’s fun to torment animals – even if that is not what happened here (although I believe it is, despite the lack of hard evidence) – there are accounts of it being a new “fun afternoon” for teens.  “Hey, Dudes!  Let’s go to the zoo and give the gorilla hell!”  Apparently, the gorilla at the SF Zoo now gives visitors the finger when they bother him.  Unless they bother him too much, then he starts to pace and shake and get really agitated. Poor little kitty.

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