tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28476250252666539852008-07-21T09:49:32.227-07:00Please Don't Give Anyone My Number! Will Explain Later!Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-80811637557489121342008-05-27T08:14:00.000-07:002008-05-27T08:28:45.972-07:00Everyone's Still Fully Dressed<span style="color:#000099;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Just thought I'd take a moment to give you a brief update on my weird dating life.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">I had a date with a third guy on Saturday. Here's the info: Mark, 35 yrs old, works in computer advertising and marketing, from Dallas. He and I went to lunch. He was a perfectly nice guy, and we had a great time. Here's the thing I can't seem to get my head around: Why haven't I met the creepy scumbags that everybody has warned me about? Kelli told me that when she did the online dating thing in L.A., it was a total nightmare. Maybe I've just been really lucky??? Anyway, he's leaving today for Costa Rica, lucky!!!</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Updates on Jim and Xavier...Jim and I went to lunch yesterday (Indian food is oh so yummy!!!) We had a great time, though he did beat me at a game of darts, and as you know, I didn't handle that way. I swore I'd have my revenge. Anyway, it was a good time. He works during the weeks on site (he's a petroleum engineer) in Beaumont during the weeks so we might do something this upcoming weekend. As for Xavier, he and I went out again on Sunday night and we are meeting for dinner again tonight. I guess my ulterior goal is to gain a hundred pounds before school lets out. </span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Anyway, thus far, nothing creepy has happened. In fact, they have all been perfect gentlemen. It's pretty shocking actually.</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Ok, I guess I should get back to work. When will it end????</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Love ya,</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Terps</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-58607353866905084212008-05-21T09:02:00.000-07:002008-05-23T13:05:21.272-07:00Trying to Decide<span style="color:#ff0000;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">I'm trying to decide just how in-depth I should get when explaining the background on these two dates...</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">-Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Dear Terps,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">I suggest full disclosure. :) How else will I be able to inject a full range of sarcastic humor when I respond? ha ha ha</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Love, Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">PS I will write more later. I've had crazy week. In the meantime, see above.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">But it's all just so sordid. Ok, I'll try. So, we have a friend (she lives in the greater DFW area) who has a profile on a dating site. She has been nagging me over and over and over again to make a profile for myself. Well, I never did because the whole meeting someone online thing just seems so very bizarre to me. But even more bizarre to me was that she is CONSTANTLY meeting people and going out on dates and whatnot. So I started thinking, "Why is it that I never get asked out? Why is it that she has such a great social life and I seem like a social pariah?" So after she was telling me about some guy she was seeing I said something to her about how jealous of all her dates I was. She kind of ignored me at first but later in the conversation she asked me, "How do you find information to share with your kids in class?" So I told her that if I didn't have enough resources at school I just look on the Internet to get more information and blah blah blah. Then she asked, "If you are planning on going to some restaurant but you don't really know how to get there, how do you find out where it is?" And of course I said, "I look it up online." So finally she said, "Our lives are so busy that we rely on the Internet for everything. We get directions, phone numbers, we shop, right? So why not use the Internet to meet people?" So I kind of played around with that idea in my head and figured, why the hell not. So, I put together a very bare bones profile, and by the end of the first hour I had like 25 messages in my box. Now, for the most part the guys were gross or creepy or too unbelievably wonderful, but after all the rummaging, I managed to come across a few possibilities. We started emailing each other and before you know it I have a date with one guy on Monday night for disco/sushi/ karaoke (which was super fun) and one the next night for sushi (which must be a good first date) and drinks. Both of them were great, not creepy, total gentlemen, and I had a great time. I think that might be the exception and not the norm, but...</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">So, I was supposed to have another date tonight, but I ended up postponing because I'm just exhausted. I went out Monday and Tuesday, had my bowling league yesterday, and work tomorrow night. I decided that tonight would be overkill. However, he and I are going to lunch on Saturday, so we'll see.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Now for the low down on the first two guys. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Monday, Jim, 33 year old engineer. The date was super fun both because of the atmosphere and the guy. He was easy to talk to, but it was REALLY loud so we didn't get to know each other too well. He did, however, ask me if I would go out with him again sometime next week (his sister is visiting Austin this weekend) somewhere a little quieter where we could talk more. So, if he contacts me again, I'd likely go.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Tuesday, Xavier, 32 year old sex ed and family planning teacher. So, I should start this by saying that he is Puerto Rican and has curly hair. That was about all I needed, however, turns out that he and I got along really well. He is super easy to talk to and he and I have a lot in common. (He mentioned the Smiths and the Cure throughout the night.) The next morning he sent me a very sweet, gentlemanly email that any girl would love. He's supposed to call me tonight and I think we might be planning on meeting again on Sunday. There is something very articulate and intelligent-sounding about him that makes me think some people might find him slightly effeminate (like Julian Sands or Jude Law), but as he has curly dark brown hair, I'm able to look past it for now.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">OK, I think that's it. Have a field day!</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">-Terps </span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Dear Terps,</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"> That sounds really good, actually! I'm glad you're enjoying yourself a bit. I imagine those guys' eyes lit up when they saw you! "Cha-ching! JACKPOT!" I think it's entirely possible to meet someone good online. My sister Heidi met her now husband on e-harmony, you know.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"> I'm not exactly sure how my personal life is going right now. Mr. came home a month ago, he was taking his medicine and doing great. Things were going really well. A week ago, the med. stopped again, and it's getting difficult again. I'm observing, and I think, quietly and calmly going through a bit of a grieving process right now with the understanding that I'm going to have to make some changes. So bear with me if you can. I've also been having really tough times at work with the number of kids, the sorts of behavior, etc. Every day is a challenge. There are some good things, too, though. Last night, I was re-reading Jon Stewarts' AMerica, the book. LMAO...The part that struck me as particularly funny last night was when he lists the requirements to be President. "You have to have resided in the US for the previous fourteen years." Jon continues with something like, "Fourteen years...because fifteen is too long, and thirteen isn't enough. Thirteen?...please. Get fucking serious."</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"> For some reason, that's been making me laugh all day today. "Thirteen? Get fucking serious."</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"> Great. Here comes another little shit into my classroom. Yippee. I wonder what this one did.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Set fire to the playground? Spray paint the cafeteria? Knife the custodian??? ARRRRGGGHHHH! </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Love, Confusia</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-46024336154768375112008-05-20T09:24:00.000-07:002008-05-20T13:51:36.492-07:00You Might Wanna Brace Yourself<span style="color:#ffcc99;">Dear Confusia,<br /><br />Guess who had a date last night and has another one tonight...<br /><br />Love,<br />Terps<br /></span><br />Dear Terps,<br />Who with? Two dates in two nights??? What gives?<br />Love, Confusia<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc99;">Oh, nobody that I've ever mentioned before, mostly because I haven't known either of them very long. Last night I went to this disco-sushi/karaoke saki bomb adventure with this guy named Jim. Initially when he asked me out, I wasn't really interested, but then I thought, "What the fuck else do I have going on Monday night?" So I went and had a surprisingly good time. The guy I'm going out with tonight, Xavier, seems like someone I'm initially more attracted to, but that's usually the kiss of death, so who knows. (He does have curly hair though, and I might just be willing to put up with anything for that.) So the weird thing is that I have been a complete and total wreck both days. Like I said, I'm not particularly invested in either of them, but this whole "going out on a date" thing REALLY does a numer on me. I start focusing on everything that might go wrong, every flaw I have (and focusing on that is a full time job), etc. Anyway, I'm off to get a haircut. I'll give you the details tomorrow!</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc99;">Love ya,</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc99;">Terps</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-74843396204796480662008-05-14T10:35:00.001-07:002008-05-15T11:50:48.570-07:00Hey! Confusia Throws a Tantrum, and a few other things, too.Dear Confusia,<br />You doing ok over there?<br />Love, Terps<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Oh geez, yeah, I'm terrific. </span><span style="color:#ff6600;">I had a major meltdown this morning at the house. I threw a big old fit, and a few other things, too, but I'm all better now. I got to work, and I have 15 kids in In-House today. I have made them work like nobody's business today. I started them out with a two page essay on correct behavior. Later on they were talking when told to line up for bathroom break, so I sat them all down again and let them write down a list of informative steps on how to line up quietly. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Last week, the Prin. and VP told me that I was sending too many kids out of In-House back to the office so they sent me yesterday to observe the IHS program at another 6th grade center. I explained to them that I thought they wanted me to send troublemaking kids back to them to be sent home in order to make the parents be responsible. So whatever. I had fun over at the other school all day. They wanted me to pick up some attitude lessons from the IHS teacher over there. Yeah, okay...she has a tiny little space right outside the VP's office for IHS. There are 4 desks in her room. I asked her how many she averages per day. She and the VP told me "About 3 per day, on average." If they get more, she moves to the cafeteria, puts them one at a table, etc. I have a classroom that holds 15 kids. No carrels, no wall space to have desks facing the walls, etc. Today, I've got two kids sitting at my desk doing their work. That cleared up another two spaces...who knows if I'll get those desks filled by the end of the day. This is my average day. 3 <15<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">But I did pick up something from the other teacher. She looked at a kid and said, "Don't make me have the 'Come to Jesus' talk with you, Boy!"</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Love, Confusia</span><br /></span><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-39646353094383162942008-05-07T11:01:00.000-07:002008-05-07T14:02:40.208-07:00Blah<span style="color:#6633ff;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">Do you ever have one of those days when you just hate yourself?</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">Love,</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Dear Terps,</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Why are you feeling badly? What's going on? I do have days when I want to get away from me, of course! Please let me know what's got you down.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Love, Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">PS Today I will love you enough for both of us. :)</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">I know this just sounds so "Oh woe is me" and shit, but today I feel:</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">old</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">fat</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">boring</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">tired</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">and so on...</span><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;">Somedays I just wake up and think, "Oh God, this is as good as my life is ever going to get," and that frightens the fuck out of me. Ugh!</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-40754092506728076422008-05-05T11:30:00.000-07:002008-05-06T12:41:35.061-07:00What's My Problem Exactly???<span style="color:#663333;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">I want to preface this with saying that I know that everything I am about to complain about is of my own doing. I really can blame only myself for all this junk, but nevertheless I'm about to commence to bitching about my life.</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">This weekend was absolutely exhausting. Forget anything I've ever said about the weekend and know that this weekend I actually wanted it to be Monday so that I could get back to my normal work schedule.</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">For some reason, I decided that it would be perfectly fine to work not only my normal Friday night shift, but I also decided that I could work Saturday AND Sunday. Seriously? What was I thinking?</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">I was so exhausted by the time I got home Saturday night that when Steven (whom I had after-work plans with) called I had to tell him that unless he wanted to watch me sleep (probably with drool running out of my mouth), that we'd have to reschedule for another time. Which we did, for Sunday when I got home from work. He ended up staying over until midnight and now here I find myself DRAGGING ASS at work. </span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">Why do you think it is that I feel this compulsion to work so much?</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">Love ya,</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;">PS Did you get the book back?</span><br /><span style="color:#663333;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Well, I'll tell you...I don't know. I myself have no such compulsion, but end up working all the dang time anyway. This past weekend wasn't so bad for me. In fact, I'd say it was really great! My job at work, though, is much easier than my job at home, so I'm in a different situation. You could take the time off and just relax on the weekend if you wanted to. I'm FORCED to work. My life is kind of weird right now as I think about it. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">"Strange things are afoot at the Circle K." I just like to stick that line in randomly wherever possible.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I got the book back, but haven't had a chance to read it yet. I should get it back to you by the end of the day. Hope springs eternal!</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Love, Confusia</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-60590276906384026042008-05-02T09:00:00.001-07:002008-05-02T11:57:45.540-07:00BOWIE!!!<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/SBtAL33WXpI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/1vl33nOLoKY/s1600-h/bowie2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195817167820840594" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/SBtAL33WXpI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/1vl33nOLoKY/s400/bowie2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/SBs6v33WXoI/AAAAAAAAAJw/LvPGVs1WF_0/s1600-h/bowie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195811189226364546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/SBs6v33WXoI/AAAAAAAAAJw/LvPGVs1WF_0/s400/bowie.jpg" border="0" /></a> He's cute, huh?<br /><p> </p><p><span style="color:#ff6600;">I especially love his expression in the top picture! He is really cute. He looks more Labrador-ish thatn sheep dog-ish to me, though. He looks to be in pretty good shape, too! He's going to think he's in Heaven living with you! Imagine going from a house where you're living with 100 other dogs, and how filthy that must have been, to going to live in Terps' Doggy Palace where you have your own little house, and even a beautiful, red-headed girlfriend named Rhoda! He's a sweetie doggie. Would you like a pet possum to go with him? Because I can hook you up. :)</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff6600;">Love, Confusia</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff6600;">PS Will this school week end soon? Please?</span></p>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-62427407897304200712008-05-01T12:56:00.000-07:002008-05-02T11:50:22.506-07:00Can I Get a MEDIC????<span style="color:#cc0000;">Dear Terps,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">I am writing this to you using a very appropriate color to describe the events that have transpired this week. This may bore you as it is largely about kid trauma, or it may just make you giddy that you have no kids...Either way, here goes...</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Monday afternoon, I came home from work, and Confusia Jr. (CJ) told me that sh'es going to be hanging out in her room by herself most of the evening because she has to rest up and relax to prepare for the TAKS test which begins Tuesday. I bought it. Later that evening, we went up to Wal-Mart for cat food or something, and we decided to eat at Subway because it was getting late. I asked CJ something, and she responded with her hand in her mouth. I was like, "WTH?" So I said, "CJ, take your hand out of your mouth. I can't understand you." She said, "Why?" I said, "I can't understand you." She again said, "Why?" I said, "Because I said so. How's that?" Very slowly, she took her hand out of her mouth, and everything became clear. She had a large, gnarly safety pin hanging out of her lip. Yes, my twelve-year old had brilliantly decided to pierce her lower lip with a nasty, old safety pin before I got home from work. I said, "Out. Take it out." She tried to argue, then she took off for the bathroom. I followed and made sure she took it out. Gross. Good God!!! Anyway, afterwards, I was talking about it with Alan (I will explain more on that later) he suggested that we let her leave it in. He said, "If it's a matter of choosing your battles, well, so she leaves it in, it gets infected, she learns her lesson... If you make it into an issue, it's just going to make her want it even more." Well, I saw the sense in that, so I told her she could choose to leave it in for at least a week, or be grounded for a week. She chose to leave it in for a week. Of course, her school made her take it out, so she's been taking it out and putting it back in. She began begging us to get her a post so it would be permanent. I was considering caving in on it, but last night she came to me and said, "Mom. I really want to take it out. It hurts, and I think it's infected. I'm really, really sorry, and I won't ever do it again. I promise." I was so relieved to hear the thing was going away, I didn't have the heart to ground her. I've been making fun of it as much as possible so she might decide to get rid of it. Her nickname this week has been "Freakshow". ha ha Anyway, I'm very happy this thing has been settled, and I can look at CJ again without vomiting in my mouth. Just the thought of her sticking a safety pin all the way through her lower lip freaks me out. BLURGHGHGHGH.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Wednesday morning, I put the baby in her carseat, and walk her across the yard to the babysitter. Because we weren't going in the car, I didn't strap her in. Now, most days, we do go in the car so she is strapped in...but not that day. The babysitter didn't realize she wasn't strapped in as she had a blanket over her. She put the carseat, with baby in it, on a little kiddie table so she could feed her oatmeal. Baby sat up, car seat tipped over, baby fell out onto floor and got a gash in her head. Babysitter freaked out, sent her son to get me. I came, freaked out, rushed baby to the ER. I am the worst mother ever. The babysitter was crying. I called Alan to come to the ER which is right next door to his work. He was up there with me and the baby. She had to have a CAT scan, which came out normal, and then she had to get four stitches in the top of her head. This is the first time I've ever been responsible for an injury to one of my kids. I felt so terrible about it. On the other hand, I know how blessed we were, and how bad it MIGHT have been. There will be a scar, but her hair will cover it up. She didn't get a concussion, or break her neck. It could have been so much worse. She will never be in that carseat without being firmly strapped in again...I don't care if the carseat is resting on a pile of clouds that's covering a mound of fluffy cotton. It was so sad to see such a little thing getting a shot in her head, and having to be stitched up. She is totally getting a free pass on something when she's a teenager. One free pass. "Okay, you pierced your lip? Well, I did cause that head injury when you were a baby, so let's take you to get a diamond studded post...Would you like a matching tattoo? No, seriously, whatever you want...just pick it out and tell me." Poor little thing. She's still just smiling away. Talk about rubbing the guilt in to me...</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">So that was yesterday morning. Yesterday evening, CJ dropped a glass on the kitchen floor, and it broke. As I was cleaning up her nasty, pus-filled lip, thinking that she'd cleaned up the glass, her brother went flying through the kitchen, and cut his toe on a piece of the glass that she had, in fact, NOT cleaned up. I was confronted with a hysterical, five year old boy whose foot was bleeding PROFUSELY all over the floor. "Mommy! Is all my blood going to come out?" he asked while big teardrops rolled down his chubby little cheeks. I assured him that it wouldn't. I put CJ and her pus-filled lip hole to the side, and mopped him up. It turned out to be the tiniest scratch. I don't know how it bled so dang much! Unbelievable! So, yeah, I need a medic. I need one to come live with me so I don't have to deal with things like this because the fact is, I suck at this. Pus, gashes, blood, needles=VOMIT!!! I'm like, "Oh, you cut your foot off? Let me hand you the hydrogen peroxide. Let me know when you're done." "What? You stuck your hand in a fire and have 3rd degree burns? Uh, I know I've got some triple-antibiotic around here somewhere. You're gonna take it and just dab some on with a Q-tip. Let me know when you're done." Neat-O.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Love, Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#999900;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#999900;">Please never make me read anything like that again.</span><br /><span style="color:#999900;">Thanks,</span><br /><span style="color:#999900;">Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">ha ha ha ha Everyone's recovering nicely, though.-Confusia</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-4952126499613559502008-04-30T06:20:00.001-07:002008-05-01T12:55:57.292-07:00I Guess...The blog has gone the way of the book?!?!?!?<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Oh no...I've just had to be away from the computer for the past two days. BTW, did you not get the book? I e-mailed it to you last week, I think. I have a bunch of stuff to tell you, but can't get to it just yet. I will post here again shortly! How have you been? My phone was off this weekend so I couldn't reach you this weekend. Write soon! So will I. Love, Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I got an email entitled "The Book", but there was no attachment. </span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">This week has been SSSSOOO long. I look forward to hearing whatever it is you need to tell me as I MUST be entertained, and SOON! </span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">I am, however, going during my lunchbreak to take Rhoda to meet a potential new pal. I've been thinking about adopting another pooch. I'm looking for a 3+ year old, preferrably female (as otherwise I would be TOO sad thinking about Gomez and Copie), who is big enough to not cause Rhoda to pick her up with her mouth and break her neck. Wish me luck! Actually, I saw a dog on the rescue center's webpage named Mary and well Rhoda and Mary just seems like the right fit. Anyway, we shall see. More news on that as it develops. </span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">Looking forward to hearing the scoop.</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">Love ya, Terps</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-56312992282805349982008-04-24T10:54:00.000-07:002008-04-25T11:16:07.818-07:00TAKS...the limerick by Confusia<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/SBDqwn3WXmI/AAAAAAAAAJg/y-FYKxQNGuI/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908491413937762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/SBDqwn3WXmI/AAAAAAAAAJg/y-FYKxQNGuI/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /></a> This is what Confusia looked like at 10 AM.<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/SBDqx33WXnI/AAAAAAAAAJo/MLf70Hro8og/s1600-h/eww.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192908512888774258" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/SBDqx33WXnI/AAAAAAAAAJo/MLf70Hro8og/s320/eww.jpg" border="0" /></a> This is what Confusia looks like right now.<br /><br />Dear Terps,<br />I give you, "TAKS...the limerick."<br /><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">For those of you not in the know...</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Let me tell about something that blows.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">It's this test they call TAKS,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">It's a pain in the ass,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">And is causing immeasurable woes.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Oh, TAKS causes kids to melt down,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Turns all of them into Ass Clowns</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">And the teachers may bleat</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Or smoke crack rock complete,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Or just drink alcohol till they drown.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">The reps down in Austin, they say,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">That the TAKS is a competent way,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">To assess certain skills,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">But I'd run for the hills</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">If it wouldn't subtract from my pay.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">When you see all the teachers unite</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">At the bars to go drinking tonight,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Or passed out on your lawn,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">'Cause your kids are all spawn</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Blame the TAKS, and your children. They bite.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">I have every sucky kid in the school right now...minus one or two. I tried to convince the art teacher to call in for us at lunch and tell them we'd caught the flu, but for some reason, we ended up back here anyway...</span><br />-Confusia<br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><span style="color:#333399;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#333399;">You know what I think is actually worse than the TAKS? It's the 5 weeks of school following the TAKS. It's hard enough to get kids to pay attention and behave at school right now, but you KNOW how they get after the TAKS. They think it's PAR-TAY time. As far as they're concerned, school ends on April 30th as they answer #40 on the reading test. The problem is that we all still have to show up to work everyday until June 6th and try to cram more knowledge into their thick little skulls. It would be so much better if (a) we didn't have TAKS at all or (b) we had TAKS the last two days of school. At least then maybe SOME of them could focus through the end of the school year, ya know?</span><br /><span style="color:#333399;">-Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Dear Terps,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Yes, they do get wicked out-of-control after the TAKS, but it seems like the situation is already out-of-control for me. See, what happens is this...The teachers have to get all the TAKS info into these kids heads ASAP...like if they haven't learned it yet this year, they'll somehow master it in the last two days or something. SO! They are sending any kid who is disrupting their teaching time to In-House. I've got all the kids who got sent here for misc. stuff like trying to kill each other, or smoking crack in the bathroom, and then I've ALSO got all the kids who are disrupting classes. Now that you've taken all the classroom disrupters and put them into one classroom, what happens? They all start magically behaving, and world peace is achieved. No. I mean, they act like little heathen, evil, Lord of the Flies Satan spawn. Welcome to my classroom. At least after the TAKS, I won't get so many of the general classroom disrupters hopefully. Key word: HOPEFULLY</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">-Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">It's official. I'm totally over it. I'm over this day. I'm over this week. Hell, at this moment in time, I'm totally over this job. I need a fucking vacation, and sadly I don't think my little trip to DFW is going to be able to pull me out of the slump I'm currently in. It might help, but it won't fix it. Speaking of, any freetime this weekend? Let me know!</span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">-Terps</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Terps,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">I maybe could get some free time. I'd need to find a babysitter. Also, my car is about to break down. It sounds really bad. Oh, and I have $8.00 to my name. Other than that, I'm game.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-14434628311929318162008-04-23T12:07:00.000-07:002008-04-23T13:59:53.200-07:00It's Official! Alan is an ASSHOLE<span style="color:#cc6600;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;">I wanted you to be the first to know. I absolutely HATE Wednesdays. For years now I had been of the false impression that Mondays were the worst days of the week, but today it became abundantly clear to me that Wednesdays are indeed the most horrible days of the week. The thing about Mondays is that usually you are at least fresh after a few days off from the wear and tear of a work week. Therefore you can go into work on a Monday morning and although you don't really WANT to be there, you can handle it because you've been at rest for a few days. Wednesdays, however, they just suck. You are totally burnt out from the week up until that point AND you still have the overwhelming sense of doom that comes with knowing that you're week is ONLY at the half way point. Therefore, I would like to nominate Wednesdays as the bane of my existence.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;">Sincerely,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;">Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">You know, particularly today, I would be inclined to agree with you. This day keeps going and going...It's the fucking Energizer Bunny of days. My ass is numb, and I'm just about out of crap to Google. Plus, I had a crappy night last night, and am still pissed off about it...Beware my righteous INDIGNATION!!! Mr. Confusia took a big gamble last night. He saw a beer can out on the porch, and asked about it. I told him that Bob offered me a beer. He then was like, "Oh, uh huh." I sat him down and told him what happened. He accused me of lying. so fuck him!!! I'm pissed at Bob, pissed at Mr. Confusia, who has lost the right to share my name, and will be exposed right now as Alan, the asshole of the world. Not only should he have believed me, but he should have apologized for putting me in the position where Bob felt free to make his offer, and then, oh, I don't know, maybe asked BOB WHY THE FUCK HE'S COMING ON TO HIS WIFE. Which, even then, he doesn't have the right to ask since he's the asshole who took off three weeks ago. Instead, fuckface accuses me of basically being not just a slut, but a LYING slut. I realize I'm in a rant, so be it. He showed up last night DRUNK at 11 pm telling me how much he loves me and misses me, then proceeds to totally betray me. I tell you now he's got a lot of shit waiting in plastic bags for him to pick up. Or NOT...I can always burn it! I'm telling you...if I don't get the most grovelling fucking apology of ALL TIME, he's going to really not like me very soon.</span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">Love, Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">And you know what else, Terps?? I have had three days of having the most irritating 6th graders in the history of the WORLD ANd now, I've been told I can't send them back to the office because there's nothing more she can do this close to TAKS. She can't send them home. So, I'm just babysitting a bunch of irritating little shits. I am getting more irate by the minute!! If you knew the shit I'm dealing with right now....Whiny, lazy, no motivation, noisy, excuse making, complaining little fucks.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Love, Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;">OK, I'm not even joking here. AGAIN I made a long reply to what you had replied and I come back on and it's disappeared and has been replaced by something you have typed. I can only assume that if we are each on here at the same time, the last one to hit save wins. Wow. And again I don't have it in me to say everything that I said before but I will sum it up as best I can. Basically, my question to you was does a grovelling apology really do anything at this point? I'm curious if he shows up and says I'm SO sorry that I accused you of things and I'm SO sorry that I have continually put myself and my needs above those of my family, and will very likely continue to do so, does that that really fix anything? The way I see it, I have been MORE than fair in regards to him being as how he has continually accused me of being a bad influence on you (the lunacy of which I can't even begin to delve into at this point), but I'm at the point now where I couldn't give a fuck if I say something that he finds offensive. I find him to be a self-serving, judgemental idiot who has done nothing to prove himself worthy of my friend. I realize that these words will come back to bite me in the ass if you two happen to reconcile, but he's offered me no apologies for the accusations he's put upon me, so I'm not inclined to change how I feel about him. At least as far as my view of him goes, there is some truth to it. As near as I can tell, he is a fuck up. To be totally honest, I have often thought that the only way you and I would be able to see each other should you and he remain married would be if we did it in secret. I find that troubling. I find this whole situation very troubling.</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-83025373842328254322008-04-22T11:15:00.000-07:002008-04-23T09:16:51.742-07:00Confusia Receives An Indecent Proposal : O<span style="color:#cc0000;">Dear Terps,</span> <span style="color:#663366;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#663366;">Before I go any further here I shoud tell you that I am so incredibly hungover right now that I feel like I just celebrated Mardi Gras for 14 days straight. Rachel's birthday was Sunday and we went out and it seems I tied one on a bit too much. Criminy, I feel like shit. In other words, bear with me.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">So, Sunday morning, I'm eating my breakfast <span style="color:#663366;">(Oh God! Did you have to mention food???) </span>and minding my own business when there's a knock at my back door. I look up and see that it's one of the neighbors...a 29 year old guy who shall henceforth be known as "Bob". He comes in for a second and is sitting at the table with me and the kids when I get the distinct impression that he wants to speak with me for a moment sans kids. I think maybe he needs a friendly ear, so I go out on the back porch and ask him what's up. He asks me if Mr.C <span style="color:#663366;">(which leads me to asking what's going on with him?) </span>has been coming over, and how I'm doing, etc. Then he asks, "And what do you think about my next personal question?" I say, "What's that?" (as in, what's the question...) He mumbles something, and I look at him blankly. I repeat, "What's your question?" He says, "I just said it." (It was, apparently, "Can you discern inaudible speech?")</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">I'm sure you know what the question was. He wanted to know if we could, "have some fun" <span style="color:#663366;">Like playing Yahtzee? </span>sometimes. AWKWAAAAARD.</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Now, he's a good looking guy, and he's a nice guy, so I have to somehow figure out how to turn him down without causing undue hurt feelings, you know? I just said, "Well, I'm really looking for something more than that right now. <span style="color:#663366;">Or better yet, I'm kind of dealing with a big ol' mess of bullshit and though I'd like to add one more complicating factor to this whole ordeal, I'm going to take a pass...</span>You're a handsome guy, and it makes me feel really good about myself that you'd consider me, but right now, I can't do that." or something to that effect. So he drops it, after asking me to keep the fact that he asked to myself...which clearly I am doing. :) ha ha</span> <span style="color:#663366;">Wow!</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Well, later that evening, I was out on the backporch, and he walks by, and he has a pack of beer<span style="color:#663366;"> (Oh Good God Almighty, did you have to mention beer?)</span>, and asked me if I wanted one. I said, "Sure. That's be great, if you don't mind. It's been a day." So I sit outside for a few minutes while we drink a beer. <span style="color:#663366;">(That's the sound of me wretching...)</span>The kids are out jumping on the trampoline, etc. I go in, get the kids to bed, and he knocks again. He asks me if I want another beer.<span style="color:#663366;">(For the love of God!)</span> I say, "Wellllll, I guess I could have one more." Then I sit down. </span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">I would like to conduct a survey of you, and any other females who might venture on the blog... I would like to know if a guy has ever said any of the following in order to convince you to go to bed with him for some totally meaningless sex: (CLUE: I've heard them all.)</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">These will be written as if the guy is saying it...</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">A. </span><span style="color:#009900;">It's just, for me, you know, it's all about making the girl come three or more times. I get off on seeing the girl get off.</span> <span style="color:#663366;">(Uhm, not for meaningless sex, but I did very seriously date a guy that this was true for...)</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">B. </span><span style="color:#009900;">I just thought that since, you know, you're here, and I'm here, that we could keep each other company for awhile...take care of each other's needs.</span> <span style="color:#663366;">(Wow, take care of each other's needs. Fucking wow.)</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">C. </span><span style="color:#009900;">So, I hear that you're saying that you can't do it because you'd turn into a neurotic freak within a matter of days, but why can't you just NOT turn into a neurotic freak? I mean, it just is what it is, you know?</span> <span style="color:#663366;">(If I had a dime for everytime I heard that one...)</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">D. </span><span style="color:#009900;">Well, it's not like I'm making any promises, you know? I mean, I'm telling you the truth, and not trying to make it sound like it's going to lead to anything...</span> <span style="color:#663366;">(My head just can't handle this right now. Good gravy!)</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Yeah. It was a fun conversation for me, I can tell you. I finished my beer<span style="color:#663366;">(Ugh! Again with the beer? BLAH!)</span>, patted him on the back, and said, "Well. Goodnight." </span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">On the plus side, I'm pleased to find out that I'm not yet so hideous that I can't get laid...ha ha</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Write back, and soon!</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#663366;">Sounds like an interesting weekend. So, are you gonna do him?</span><br /><span style="color:#663366;">Love ya,</span><br /><span style="color:#663366;">Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Uh, no. So is Rachel drinking again now? Or did you drink for both of you? ha ha </span><span style="color:#663366;">She is drinking in moderation, I apparently am not.</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-8133426368063441092008-04-16T07:52:00.000-07:002008-04-16T13:22:19.814-07:00At a Loss...Yet the Drama Unfolds at Confusia'sDear Confusia,<br /><br />It seems that Regan wants something more from us, but my life is pretty much at a stand still right now. If I write anything it'll just be more of the same old boring junk. How about you? Anything new?<br /><br />Terps<br /><br />Wow...I responded to this whole thing and it disappeared. I don't have it in me to do it again. Fucking, what the bloody hell happened? It was there when I saved and posted. Any idea?<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I have no idea, but that sucks. Now what do I do???</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Save yourself, because nobody else will do it for you. (And I know that sounds so awful, but...)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Oh, words cannot express, Terps, but I will give it my best shot. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Now, to me, drama can get a little tiresome, so I apologize if my woes of yesterday are irritating to our dear friend Regan...however, understanding boredom like I do...I shall endeavor to entertain.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">AS you know, Mr. Confusia (hereafter in this post to be referred to as AC, and we all know what that stands for) offered to watch the kids last week so I could get out of the house. On Wednesday of last week, I asked him if he could do so on Thursday. He refused with the response, "Why should I?" Indeed. I was, as could be expected, bothered by that. I told him he is not being a man of his word. (Was I wrong?) He said, "Well, in that case, I won't pay for the baby's child care anymore, either." And then he left. Friday afternoon he shows up to pay back the $20 I'd loaned him, and I tell him that he needs to pay the child care for the baby's good. Honestly, if I lose my job, what will happen to the baby? Am I asking him for more than his share of responsibility for a life he helped create??? He gave me $60. This was after telling me he'd pay $125, and after he brought that down to $100. I mean, the dude is sleeping in his truck. What is he spending the money on, you know what I mean?</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Sunday night, he calls me and tells me he'll bring the rest of the money to me. He never shows up. Monday afternoon he shows up looking like something the cat dragged in...he'd been drinking, looked like he hadn't bathed in a few days, etc. He tells me he spent the rest of the money at a girlie club. He tells me that he doesn't know if he can continue to pay child care because if his needs aren't met soon, he's going to have to pay someone for sex. This is very sad to see...a decent guy rolling downhill so fast and so willfully. You just want to shake him!!! I tell him, "So, paying someone for sex is more important than taking care of your child?" We start to get into it...He starts to take off. I stop him and say, "Look, for everyone's sake we need to try to keep this aboveboard. If you want the divorce, I'll go online tomorrow and see what I can find out about how to get a divorce. Whatever happens, we need to do what is best for the kids, and for us. He apologizes, gives me a big hug, pats my back, etc. He ends up coming over for dinner.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Then he stays over. Big mistake. But then, I'm sure you could see that big mistake coming.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Yesterday afternoon, I get a call from him. He's at a bar, and he invites me up to play a game of pool with him. I thought, "Wow. This could be a sign that he's starting to pull it together!" I meet him at the bar. As soon as I walk in, he's hugging and kissing me, flirting with me, etc. We play a game of pool...we're having a good time together. Then we sit down to play a computer game together. We play some game called, "Carnal Knowledge" which is a trivia game. Well, due to alot of lucky guesses, and common sense, I get the high score. This pisses him off no end. "Oh, so you going to start telling me stories now...oh, you've been with more people than me..."</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I interrupt to say, "Alright. It's time for me to go. Be careful getting home. If you need anything, give me a call." Because I'm still trying to be decent, you know? I refuse to lower myself. I will not do it. I just barely get home, and Bella tells me the bar called and they need someone to pick AC up because he's too drunk to drive. I go back to get him. Now I've got to babysit drunk AC. </span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">WAIT!!!!!! You can't just leave me hanging here. What is this? You're jumping the shark???</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Sorry, I had to go do some filing. I meant to hit "Save", but I hit "Publish" instead.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">So, I pick him up. He hangs his head out the window all the way home. We get home, and he crawls out the car window and staggers into the house. He goes up and hugs Confusia Jr., who looks pissed beyond belief. My son doesn't know what's going on so he's just being his usual loving, accepting self. AC goes into our bedroom, presumably to either vomit, or fall into bed. Con. Jr. tells me she needs to talk to me in private. I go with her to the other bathroom. She tells me, "Mom, the guy from the bar who called to say Dad needed a ride home called back. He wanted to talk to you. He said that you need to get the ___ away from 'this guy'. He said that he (AC) sat at the bar and talked bad about you for almost an hour. He said that you shouldn't stay with 'this guy', and that if you needed to talk to him, or if you needed help with anything to call him back. He was really nice." I said, "Well, it was nice of him to call. I'll call him back when I can. In the meantime, let's just take care of each other, okay?" and I gave her a hug. We went back to the kitchen to finish getting dinner on the table. I go to check on AC. He was lying on the bathroom floor with his eyes wide open, his pants down, and had his favorite body part hanging out of his shorts. Nice. I kid you not, he wasn't blinking and I thought he was dead for a second. I put my hand on his chest to check for a heartbeat or a pulse. He didn't move, and still didn't blink. I felt his heart beating, so I went to take off his boots so I could get him into the bed and go back and get the kids eating dinner. I struggled with him to get him to the bed. I almost had to carry him there. I get him in, then go back to have dinner with the kids. While we were eating, AC comes into the kitchen and wants to eat with us. Sure, because he needs something to help him sober the fuck up. He comes in and decides that since there are no rolls, he needs to go to the store to get some. He goes to get my keys, which Con. Jr. gets from him even before I do.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">He then tells me he's going to walk to the store and asks my son if he wants to go. My son says, "Yeah!" because he still doesn't understand. I say, "Son, considering that he's in his underwear, and the police will probably be called when he gets to the store, you might want to stay here." He says, "Uh, okay." because clearly my five year old son has more sense than AC.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">After dinner, I find AC lying in my bed. He's looking very serious, and he looked at me and said, "I'm fucked up." I said, "I know." and he points to his head, and says, "In here. I'm fucked up." I looked at him very sadly, and said, "Yes. I know. Maybe you should take your medicine like the doctor thought you should." He said, "No. I won't do it." Then, I suggest, "Maybe counseling. Not for the marriage, but just for yourself." He says, "No." Then gets up, goes into the bathroom, gets his clothes and boots back on. By that time, I was sitting on the couch reading the kids a bedtime story. AC walked out the door. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">At almost 11 PM, he knocked on my window. I went to open the door, and he's brought his truck back. He says he needs to get some stuff to pawn. By that time, the kids are asleep, I had gone to bed, etc. Con. Jr. wakes up, and is like, "What's going on?" He started unhooking his stereo nad goes to carry it out to his car. When he came back in, I said, "Look, you can't do this right now. It's almost 11. The kids are asleep. I can't have this right now. You can come back after work tomorrow and get whatever you need, but I need to look out for the kids right now. He walked past me into our bedroom. I follow him and repeat it. He asked me, "Where are your tax returns?" WTF? He says, "I'm going to call the school superintendent on you. You'll be needing whatever money you can get." So, after all the kindness I've shown him, he's telling me he's going to try to get me fired. He said, "You won't see me after tomorrow." etc. Then he left.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I called his job this morning to see if he got there okay, and he had. Then I came to work.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">This is so sad for me to see. A normal, pretty decent guy, who, albeit is insecure often, still has a good heart, and has tried to do the right thing...he is crashing and burning...self-destructing worse every day. His twin brother just called me to check on how things are doing, and I told him that I am seriously worried about AC. (Yes, I know I've given him a not-nice nickname on this post, but you have to admit, he earned it last night.) I am willing now to throw in the towel on our marriage, but as a human being with compassion, and as the mother of his child, I don't want to see him end up dead. His depression is going untreated, except with alcohol, and it's only a matter of time before a bar DOESN'T call me to pick him up. He'll end up dead, or worse, killing someone else, and ending up in prison. His brother said that their whole family knows how hard I'm trying. They've all tried to talk to AC about the choices he's making without much success. He lives 400 miles away, so he's limited in how much he can do. He suggested that I go with my first impulse, which is to alert AC's mom and older brother as to what's happening, so that they can try to intervene. His twin said, "Yeah, it looks like what started as a slow roll downhill is turning into a steep cliff. We need a game plan." His family is being super supportive of me...telling me how much they love me, and that I'll always be family to them...thanking me for trying so hard to be a good wife to him, etc. It's a mess.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Apparently, the reason he wants me to get fired is because he doesn't want to pay the likely $300 in child support he'd have to pay each month. None of what he said last night made alot of sense, as drunk as he was, but he said something like, "Yeah, you'll need $300." and he said that he was going to get an attorney. I just treated him like I would treat an ED kid..."Okay. That's fine. You do what you feel the need to do."etc. After all, what the hell is the use of arguing with a drunk guy? </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Bottom line is: Maybe it's good in a sense that this is happening, as it's making his leaving much easier for me to bear. ( "Oh, you want to go? Okay! Bye-Bye! Send me a postcard!" as I smile and wave to him from the door.) On the other hand, (always a Libra's favorite expression..) he is losing his MIND! I think I'm going to alert the landlord to the situation. He said the last time AC left, that he would make sure I was protected. I don't want to feel like I need to be protected, but if the downward spiral continues, where do we go from here, you know? Do I become the person responsible for all of his problems, and so he should just get rid of me? I don't think it will come to that, but at the same time, I bet there have been lots of women who never thought it would come to that. When the hell did my life get this fucked up? I mean, I thought it was fucked up before, but now I realize that it was perfectly normal and blissful. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I'm going to try to meet with his mom and brother tonight. Then his twin wants me to call him back and let him know what happened. I think I'm going to continue to keep the kids and me busy each afternoon so we're not at home. I don't need the drama, and neither do they.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">So, Terps, that's what's been going on with me. Fun, yes? And poor, poor Regan will never tell us she's bored again..ha ha She is, at this very moment, going to find her stash of Tylenol! ha ha</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">(Aren't you, Regan...:)</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-42747305420521084452008-04-10T11:31:00.000-07:002008-04-11T13:42:44.487-07:00Blasted Electricity<span style="color:#996633;">Dear Confusia,</span> <span style="color:#ff6600;">Dear Terps,</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#996633;">I know that you texted me this morning and told me that you didn't have electricity, so even though I know you aren't going to see this until tomorrow (assuming that you have electricty tomorrow), I'm bored and I decided to write you anyway.</span> <span style="color:#ff6600;">Yes, that's right. 6th grade school, 400 kids, no electricity. No lights, no air, no AC, no computer, peanut butter sandwiches for lunch...I don't know who was happier, the kids or the teachers. It </span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>SUCKED, SUCKED, SUCKED!!!!!<br /></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#996633;">I don't really have anything to say. I have nothing to share, but writing to you on the blog is just what I do and when I don't do it, it's like a small part of me has died. Sadly, the part of me that has died isn't the part of me that comes to work and sits in my room watching students take their 6 weeks test in math while my brain atrophies. I was, in fact, so bored that I took the 7th grade math 6 weeks test. (I made a 100, if you were wondering. And no, I did not cheat. I didn't write the test. It was the first time I saw it.) </span><span style="color:#ff6600;">Sure. ha ha</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#996633;">Anyway, I saw that the Harry Potter kid is doing his naked play here in the states. It made me wonder if you'd made plans to go see it as I know that you have the hots for Harry Potter. Oh wait, I probably shouldn't have put that here. My guess is you don't want people to know about that. Oh well, I guess you can correct it when you get back on-line. </span><span style="color:#ff6600;">Okay, I would just like to correct a few parts of this paragraph. First of all, I don't "have the hots" for the actor who plays Harry Potter. I have the hots for Harry Potter. And if the timing of the book is correct, the fictional Harry Potter at this time is like, 29. So that's okay. As far as it's okay to have the hots for a fictional character...As far as the Harry Potter kid (aka Daniel Radcliffe) doing his naked play in the U.S., no, I have not made plans to go see it. Having seen the first Potter movie which he made when he was 11, I think it would be more than a trifle awkward to see his exposed man parts. Awkward slash oogy. I'm gonna pass on that. However, when the play was first reviewed in England, one of the ladies who cast him in that part made a comment along the lines of, "He's DEFINITELY not a kid anymore!" so I can only assume by that somewhat suggestive comment that his exposed man parts are indeed something to see if one was so inclined...which I'm not. Promise.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#996633;">Speaking of children...Steven called me last night. You know, I find that sort of an awkward situation now even more than before. I mean as if I didn't already have all these weird hang-ups about him, now I have to skirt around the topic of not being able to see him because I don't want to tell him that I can't see him because I'm bleeding to death. I think that'd probably kill the mood, ya know?</span> <span style="color:#ff6600;">I suppose working a puzzle together in companionable silence isn't do-able? ha ha</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#996633;">And speaking of bleeding to death, my doctor's nurse called me yesterday. She told me that my test results had come back and everything was normal except that my blood count was low. Really? My blood count is low? Hhhhmmm, that's odd. I wonder what might be causing that. When I told her that the problem had gotten worse (by say, uhm, ten-fold) since I started taking the medication that's supposed to stop it. So, the recommendation was to TRIPLE my dosage of the drug. Really? Why? So that I can bleed to death three times as fast? Excellent! This is why I hate doctors. </span><span style="color:#ff6600;">Yeah, doctors have been helping people die faster for thousands of years. I know they do their bit of good, and I've been very thankful for them at various times, but it seems to me that tripling something that made the condition worse when doubled isn't necessarily the best bet. But what do I know? Perhaps you could change doctors?</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#996633;">Get electricity again! SOON! </span><span style="color:#ff6600;">I am muffling giddy sobs of joy that I again have electricity at work.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">BTW, have I mentioned that yesterday </span><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>SUCKED??!!!</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">-Confusia</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-53994767512705002682008-04-09T10:41:00.000-07:002008-04-09T13:55:45.469-07:00Bustin' It Freestyle...(Actually, just a few good pics.)<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EiROKZcI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/n4EHCpylg0U/s1600-h/Beastie-Boys-mm01.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187307332585547202" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EiROKZcI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/n4EHCpylg0U/s320/Beastie-Boys-mm01.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EiBOKZbI/AAAAAAAAAJI/RPwOta9uzwo/s1600-h/Beastie%20Boys-19.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187307328290579890" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EiBOKZbI/AAAAAAAAAJI/RPwOta9uzwo/s320/Beastie%2520Boys-19.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EhxOKZaI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8br9sRO84F0/s1600-h/Beastie%20Boys-6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187307323995612578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EhxOKZaI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8br9sRO84F0/s320/Beastie%2520Boys-6.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EhROKZZI/AAAAAAAAAI4/iw3Npw5kjNA/s1600-h/Beastie%20Boys-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187307315405677970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EhROKZZI/AAAAAAAAAI4/iw3Npw5kjNA/s320/Beastie%2520Boys-1.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EihOKZdI/AAAAAAAAAJY/3tRMt1BhPzI/s1600-h/Beastie-Boys-nl06.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187307336880514514" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NrbAp8fG0rU/R_0EihOKZdI/AAAAAAAAAJY/3tRMt1BhPzI/s320/Beastie-Boys-nl06.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;">It's a Beastie Boogaloo Kind of Day.</span></strong><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Dear Terps,</span><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">I really don't have much to report. Miracles never cease. What about you? Surely there's something spicy happening in your life right now. With what may I assist you today? :)</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">Have you been to the Beastlie Girls website lately? Just out of curiosity...</span></div><span style="color:#ff6600;">Whatever happened to the cardboard VW emblem I made for you?<br /></span><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">Yes, my day is so dull that I'm left to ponder relics from our past.</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">-Confusia</span></div><div><span style="color:#00cccc;">Dear Confusia,</span></div><div><span style="color:#00cccc;">Not much to report here really. I'm just waiting for a call from my doctor because I REALLY think that I am slowly bleeding to death. It's been a constant trickle since March 28th, but today the floodgates opened, but I've been on medication to make it stop for 7 days now. I don't understand what's happening. I went and had lab work done on Thursday of last week and haven't heard anything from her about it. Certainly the results would be back by now, yes? Whatever. Could losing this much blood be a weight loss plan?</span></div><div><span style="color:#00cccc;">As for the Beastlie Girls site, I haven't been there in forever. Anything new? And speaking of sites and new, we REALLY need to get back on snatchdotcom. As for my VW emblem (love the pix where Mike D. is sporting his) it was in my Rav4 when I had the accident that totalled it. When they took it off to the junk yard, I never retrieved any of the stuff in it. (Mr. Bigglesworth was in there as well. Oh and Likatung too...)</span></div><div><span style="color:#00cccc;">Now, I'm sad.</span></div><div><span style="color:#00cccc;">-Terps</span></div><div><span style="color:#00cccc;">PS Is it weird that I find Michelangelo's David so very attractive? I don't just mean that I find it a beautiful work, I mean I want to marry a guy that looks like him. I should keep that to myself. I'll blame it on the blood loss.</span></div><div><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span> </div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">While I wish I could report that blood loss=weight loss, it doesn't. For awhile, I was seriously contemplating removing the Mirena and just abstaining because of the whacked out, in no way normal, terrifying level of bleeding I was suffering. So glad I didn't. I haven't even had one in almost two months. I think (keeping my fingers crossed) that it's finally working the way they told me it would. But yeah, I weighed myself daily during those stressful eight day bleed-a thons, and never lost a pound. Not fair. If you're going to bleed to death, you should at least be able to die at your ideal weight. I'm just sayin'.</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"> Now I'm sad about your VW, Bigglesworth, and Likitung. Did not realize you'd lost all the sacred relics from our first year of friendship.</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">A. VW emblem that I made you for your birthday out of cardboard, a hanging plant chain, and gold spray paint. 'Cause you're worth it...ha ha Geez, I was broker then than I am now. How?</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">B. Our matching talking, plush Mr. Bigglesworths that I bought for us at some drive-thru.</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"> "We don't gnaw on our kitt-ee." I still have mine, you know.</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">C. Likitung, the Pokemon with the four foot long tongue who attacks by licking you and making you "tingle". Because we are both total pervs...ha ha</span></div><div> </div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">This makes me wonder if I still have the letter I got from Sal, Attorney-to-the-Stars...you know, that letter you wrote and put in my box in the office that almost gave me a heart attack???</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;">-Confusia</span> </div><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"> </span></div>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-1993680470605963032008-04-08T07:05:00.000-07:002008-04-08T12:54:50.060-07:00This Is Why I Teach<span style="color:#ffcc00;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">This morning during my advisory class I was talking to a table of girls. One of the girls was telling me that she had to stay up really late last night doing housework and junk and that she was really tired and that her mom yelled at her for not getting the dishes done and so forth. Then she says, "I think my mom has that thing that women get when they get old." And I asked, "Oh, do you mean menopause?" And she says, "Yeah, that's it. It makes her all grumpy and mean." Well, another girl says, "Oh well then I think my dad must have menopause too." I laughed so hard I had tears rolling down my cheeks." Priceless!</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">How are you today?</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Love ya,</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">ha ha, I know a LOT of people who have menopause. Speaking of, when Confusia Jr. was 4 years old, I took her to the library one day to check out books and movies. Well, we were looking at the videos together, and she pulls one off the shelf and hands it to me. I look at it, and it's called, "Menopause: What You Need to Know." I guess she thought the cover of it was fascinating or something. ha ha I still tease her about that sometimes. You'd think she'd need to know about getting her period before she'd need to know about getting rid of it...but to each her own.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I'm doing better today. I have good days and bad. I didn't get into a huge emotional deal with Mr. Confusia last night, so today is a better day. I did have another weird dream, though. This one was about vampires of the Gary Oldman/Bram Stoker variety. They were trying to convert me into a vampire, and make me bear their vampire young. What do you suppose that means??</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">In other news, on my way to work this morning, a black cat crossed in front of my car. Then it looked up, saw that it was me, and crossed back again just to make good and sure he'd cursed me properly. Thanks alot, you stupid cat. Do you think it undid the bad luck by crossing back to where it started from, or do you think it doubled the bad luck? ha ha I really don't believe in that, but I thought it was funny that it crossed my path TWICE!</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Well, none of the baby bunnies made it. I think they were just too young. We do have a BIG rabbit now, though. His name is Cotton. We got it from one of the math teachers here. He's a big white rabbit with grey ears, and a grey nose who likes to be scratched on his chin. So I came up with a plan for us to make extra money in the summer. We're going to take Cotton, and your pet cow on the road! That's right. We're going to have a travelling farm show! We just need to acquire some chickens now. We'll get some matching overalls and straw hats. How does that sound? Farmer Terps and Farmer Confusia. We'll make the kids clean up all the poo. :)</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Okay, so after work yesterday, I decide to take the kids to the park. I figure this will help take my mind off my problems, and it will also get us out of the house in case Mr. Confusia stops by. I thought it wouldn't do him any harm to sit and wonder where we were instead of the other way around. I didn't know if he would stop by, but just in case...you know? We were gone until about 7:50, when we need to get home in order for the kids to be in bed at 8:30. We were home about twenty minutes and Mr. C shows up. Coming by to "see the kids" etc. Eventually, I get the kids down, but he doesn't leave. He thought we could "talk about some things." Well, here's how I feel about this...He's coming home all the time because he wants to. I think he gets bored and lonely, and misses us. Then he comes over, and somehow ends up staying so late that we fall asleep, which is what happened last night. This is absolutely ridiculous. Except for Sunday, he's being a better husband and father now than he was being before he "moved out". So what the hell is this all about??? I want to plan on being out of the house as much as possible this week, but if he knows the kids' bedtime is at 8:30, then I have the feeling he'll just wait until then to show up. Should I just let him think he's "moved out", and then sit back and enjoy the benefits of a better husband for me and father for the kids? Trust me not to be able to have a freakin' normal marriage. He even volunteered to watch all three kids this weekend so I could go out! He's never done that in all the time we've been together. It's like he has this crazy mindset that he's now "choosing" to be there instead of "having" to be there, and it seems to be making the difference for him. Anyway...CRAZY. blah, blah, blah. Nothing of a sexual nature happened last night. I won't allow it anymore. Not until something is resolved one way or the other. Ah, Mi VIDA LOCA! </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Seriously, think over the "On the Road With Farmer Terps and Confusia" idea. I'm seeing big money from that...ha ha</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">-Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">BTW: Today on List of the Day, the mugshot is DEFINITELY Adam Duritz. I think.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">First off, Cary doesn't know the kind of danger he's put himself in with talking shit about Duritz, you do. So mind yourself lest you should find a jail-made blade broken off in your gut.</span> <span style="color:#ff6600;">Alright, I know. I've actually gotten quite fond of Duritz as of late. Been listening to Cugust and Everything After quite a bit. However, you need not make threats. He is still yours. The thing with the mugshot was just too perfect because of the hair and the flabby neck...WHICH I can say because as earlier posted, I have begun to share in the affliction. Just like I can say Adrien Brody has a big nose. If YOU started talking about flabby necks and big noses, it wouldn't be kosher, though since you have neither. Which is why you suck..ha ha</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">As for your dream, I can only assume that since you have spent the better part of your life wanting to be a breeder for the Aryan Nation, in your convuluted subconscience you accidentally confused skinhead with vampire. Don't be too hard on yourself. It was an honest mistake.</span> <span style="color:#ff6600;">Now, now. You're going to cause people to really believe this was my life's ambition. I mean, we both know it is, but I figured it would be left between the two of us...ha ha Actually, yes, it was a very freaky dream because the vampire eggs were implanted in my boobs. Grody.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">And it just so happens that my farmer friend who allows Jet, my pet cow, to live on her property has about 7 chickens running around. <span style="color:#ff6600;">Sweet. We're good to go. Please pick up your overalls by June 6. Look out world! </span>She also has 4 goats, 3 jackasses,<span style="color:#ff6600;">yeah, but can they out-jackass us when we're drunk?? </span>a bull, <span style="color:#ff6600;">I'll let you be the bull handler.</span> and a Shetland pony, but being as the pony has a, how would you say, biting problem, I wouldn't reccommend her for a travelling show. I would, however, have you consider the possibility of using her in class for a kind of interactive show and tell. Just a thought.</span> <span style="color:#ff6600;">DAmn, why didn't you already tell me about this pony? Such a good idea! I actually have a pony who lives next door to me who is "teething". Perhaps I could use her. I'll ask Confusia Jr. if the bites she gives are good and hard. She got to experience one last summer. I don't think she liked it.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Maybe for now you should just keep on keeping on with the Mr. Confusia situation, especially if you think you can get him to babysit the kids the weekend I come to town...</span> <span style="color:#ff6600;">Don't think I hadn't already considered this...ha ha</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Gotta run! </span><span style="color:#ff6600;">Why? Are the wild dogs after you?</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-22647346652995628772008-04-07T08:57:00.000-07:002008-04-07T13:19:25.251-07:00It Feels Like I've Done This All Before<span style="color:#333399;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#333399;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333399;">How are you? How was your weekend? How are things at home? I would write more but I have a throbbing headache and feel really uninspired. Maybe I'll be better a little later.</span><br /><span style="color:#333399;"></span><br /><span style="color:#333399;">Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#333399;"></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">Dear Terps,</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">I decided to respond on this post rather than do a new one because your title works so well for what I have to say.</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">Friday night, Mr. Confusia came over. It was just me and the baby so he ended up staying for awhile. He watched a movie with me, then one thing led to another, etc. He left Saturday morning to go fishing with a friend. He showed up last night to ask me if he could do some laundry, and he'd give me a couple of dollars for the cost of it. His demeanor was so completely different from what it had been on Friday that I got pretty upset. He seemed surprised by that. We spoke for a little while. I told him he needed to make up his mind and stop playing games with me. I asked him why he was still wearing his wedding ring. He said, "I've just grown accustomed to it." I told him that he should go ahead and take it off since he was breaking his vows to me. He tried, but it was stuck. I proceeded to pull that thing off of his hand. It took me a little while, but if I'd had to grease his hand up with peanut butter, it was coming off. I basically told him that he'd never loved me, didn't love our family, that he lied to me every time he'd said the words, "I love you." and that I was a monumental fool for ever believing him. etc. It wasn't pretty. Finally, I told him that I had to get the baby to bed, which was a pretty big hint for him to go ahead and go. After that, because apparently my eyes and nose weren't red and puffy enough, I cried myself to sleep. I again had dreams in which various people treated me like shit, and woke feeling totally ready for Monday and work, as you can imagine after such a fun night.</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">I really don't want to talk to anyone, or even be here. I HATE this!!! It's so not right. And yeah, maybe it's happening for a reason, and it's not like our marriage was perfect or anything because it wasn't, but it was MY marriage, you know? And to see him fuck it up, and trash his vows after six fucking months...there are no words. He should be ashamed of himself for being a quitter and a liar. If he decided that he's been a fool, which he has, and wants to come home...I don't even know how to handle that. I want to save our marriage, but only if conditions change, and he starts taking responsibility for his issues, and his moods. I just feel so lonely. Like everything I believed was a lie, and that I'm an ass.</span> His brother is being great, though. When I told him what's been going on, he said, "No wonder I haven't seen him. He knows what I'd have to say about what he's doing. He knows I'd send his ass home." He went on to say that if I needed anything at all to let him and his wife know. That they're my family, and that that would never change.<br /><span style="color:#990000;">-Confusia</span><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#333399;">Dearest Confusia,</span></p><p><span style="color:#333399;">I know that there is nothing I can say that will change this or make it better for you in this moment. I wish I could. All I can say for certain is that I love you and will do anything within my power to help you any way I can. Please let me know what I can do for you. I do believe that every trial we are faced with makes us stronger. No matter the end result of this, you will be a richer person for having experienced it. Please call me when you can.</span></p><p><span style="color:#333399;">Love, Terps</span></p><p><span style="color:#990000;">Thanks, and I'm sorry for being such a whiny baby about this lately. It's just really difficult for me. I knew there was a chance it could happen, but at the same time, I can't believe it actually is. I know I'll survive. I was actually doing better last Friday. I had pretty well dealt with it, and was just having a few residual pains. I feel like I'm starting today back at fucking square one. I'm an idiot. That's it.</span></p><p><span style="color:#333399;">Of course you know that none of this has anything to do with being an idiot. Sure, we have all done idiotic things in our life (think working for HEB ISD), but nothing you have done in this relationship makes you an idiot. Being upset and hurt and sad, all of that, it's natural. If you weren't, I'd think there was something terribly wrong with you. Trust me, I have been through this. I know it feels like you are a failure. I know that it seems like a personal insult that you aren't good enough. But honestly, Confusia, that's not the reality of it. Relationships are multi-facited. They aren't flat with black and white truths and realizations. Had either of you KNOWN undoubtedly that this WAS going to happen, then you wouldn't have done this. You took a risk. You took a chance. Now know that you are going through a learning experience. If this works out, you learn from it. If it doesn't, you learn from that as well. Everything will get easier. I'm living proof.</span></p><p><span style="color:#990000;">Yes, I do feel like a failure, and I feel like I wasn't good enough. I also feel that he didn't try, and I have some anger about that. Like, why the hell did he even ask me to marry him if he wasn't going to make a serious attempt. (And I would not call 6 months a serious attempt.) We lived together for over a year before we got married. He knew what he was in store for. Nobody held a gun to his head. So why did he make a mockery of it all??? Why did he stand at the altar and say those vows, if he knew he wasn't able to deal with it? That's how I feel. I feel like he made a fool of me, and I'm very angry about it.</span></p>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-72263483270996968692008-04-04T11:03:00.000-07:002008-04-04T14:24:29.780-07:00Brilliantly Humiliating Idea!Confusia,<br /><br />I was reading some other blogs, and I stumbled across one which lead me to several others of all these people who are food journaling everything they eat in a day. So, I thought that would be a really great idea for us. Not so that we can become more conscious of what we eat, but rather so that we can make these people feel better about themselves should they happen to stumble upon our blog. The blog (entitled Confessions of a Fat Girl...which I think would be a great name for the Beastlie Girl's next LP) is far more in depth than ours (they calculate far more things i.e. calories, fat grams, carbs, proteins, etc), but I think we would be serving humanity well if we listed our daily feedings. We could add to it as need be (which for me today could be a lot! OK, I shall start.<br /><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Terps' Food Consumption 04/04/08</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Breakfast:</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Venti Black Coffee from Starbucks</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">More than the serving size (by a lot no doubt) of Zapp's Regular Flavor Potato Chips</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Calories: A zillion; Fat Grams: Enough</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Mid-morning Snack:</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Two handfuls (by that I mean giant, meaty man paws) of Starburst Jellybeans</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Calories: Good job only eating 2 handfuls; Fat Grams: Jellybeans are a fat-free food.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Lunch:</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Two slices low-fat wheat bread</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">One vegan "chicken" patty</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Remainder of bag of Zapps Potato Chips</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Calories: None of your fucking business; Fat Grams: Damn, you Zapp's people</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Dinner:</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">I'm working tonight so I shall just drink my weight in booze.</span><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Another round of Jagermeister for me and my thighs!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Um, not sure if this is a good idea. People will gain weight just by reading what I've eaten today, and then they'll hate our blog. But here goes:</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Breakfast: Large Diet Coke</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Sausage biscuit from McDonald's</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Lunch: Large Diet Coke</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Personal pepperoni pizza</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">3 breadsticks</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Dinner: (I already know what I'm going to have..)</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Bowl of Curves cereal. (Like this will do any good after the massive calories already ingested.)</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Net weight gain: 5 pounds from eating this stuff, another 3 from writing it down.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Now then, aren't you sorry you came up with this plan???</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">And could someone please explain to me why I think that drinking Diet Coke with my meals is doing me any good? "Hi, I'll have the Loaded Big Mac, Cheese Lovers and Pepperoni Foot Long Sub...and can I Supersize that? , and a Diet Coke." Like the drive-thru peeps aren't rolling their eyes at me...</span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">-Confusia</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">-Confusia</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-72138827949808216952008-04-04T07:44:00.000-07:002008-04-04T12:02:03.846-07:00I'll Take "Shoot Me Now" for $500, Alex.Dear Terps, <span style="color:#66ffff;">Dear Confusia,</span><br />I had a few great dcreams last night. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Are you kidding me? I woke up so many times last night thinking about how I was going to have to write you an email telling you about that dream. Interesting...</span>Let me tell you about them.<br />The first one involved Mr. Confusia handing me a book by this "great" marriage counselor type guy. In the book, this guy suggested that all wives sign contracts for their husbands promising to follow directions, and be respectful and basically, subservient. Mr. Confusia wanted me to sign the contract, and I was saying, "What? NO! I won't sign this. This is ridiculous! I'm not going to be a second class citizen in this marriage." <span style="color:#66ffff;">At least you didn't sign the contract, ya know? I mean at least you can be pruod that even in your dreams you have integrity. </span>Bottom line is...this dream sucked.<br />The second one involved my older sister and a party she was having. She came up to me, and suggested that she might run out of croissants and strawberries and was asking me not to eat seconds. Then she said something in French, and my other sister gasps, and says, "That's mean!" I said, "What did she say?" And she replies with a certain look, and says, "You know..."<br />I took that to mean that I wasn't supposed to get seconds because I'm such a lard ass...You have to ask me not to eat all the food for everybody. <span style="color:#66ffff;">That is a bad dream. When I have dreams that bother me, I like to rework them when awake and make myself feel better. For instance, you could have told her that you had no intention of eating another croissant as the first was so dry it would have caused a Saint Bernard (or some other heavily slobbering dog) to choke. Then you would have picked up a bottle of Perrier (or whatever pretentious French-type beverage being served) and thrown it in her face as you walk out with the best looking mime in attendance. </span>Bottom line...this dream sucked, too.<br />The third dream involved me buying shirts for my daughter and Isaac's half-sister. Neither of them liked the shirts, and the half-sister said, "Couldn't you have just bought me a big, orange jacket instead?" I was pissed because I'd done something nice for them, and they were totally ungrateful. <span style="color:#66ffff;">And the lesson to be learned here is no good deed goes unpunished. Maybe it was an honest reminder to you to stop being so nice and considerate. I know that sounds awful, but you know what I mean, right? Maybe it's one of those, "Looking out for yourself and doing something for you is sometimes ok" reminders. Maybe?</span><br />My question is, "Why do I have to have dreams like this?" I mean, if I wanted to take a bunch of crap from people 24-7, I would just stay awake. Tonight, I'd like to just special order a hot dream with Adrien Brody, if that would be okay... <span style="color:#66ffff;">OK, well here goes my dream. I had a dream that I was so angry at someone that we both know but who shall remain nameless at this time had annoyed me so badly that I started pummeling her. I was really giving her the smackdown of a lifetime. Then I would wake up, think to myself, "Hhhmmm, that's odd as I'm not even annoyed with her right now," and then go back to sleep and continue to beat the shit out of her. Very odd.</span><br />Now, I get to work, and I've got the worst two kids in school who are already doing their best to give me the most ginormous fucking headache of all fucking time. Is the swearing necessary, you ask? OMG!!! HEEELLLLLPPPP MMMMEEEEEE!!!!!!<br />Love, Confusia<br /><br />This is the conversation I'm currently engaged in. Let me transcribe: <span style="color:#66ffff;">Let me translate:</span><br />AC: Can I go to the office?<br />Me: No. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Sadly, no.</span><br />AC: Why not?<br />Me: Because you've already been there. They sent you here. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Because they hate you and me both</span><br />AC: But I need to go:<br />Me: They don't want you there. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Just like your parents don't want you at home. Because they don't love you and never have. </span>Stop banging your desk. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Before I crack it over your head.</span><br />AC: Can I get another infraction so I can go to the office?<br />Me: No. Don't ask me again. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Or I will get an infraction which will land me in jail.</span><br />AC:Man, I want to go to the office....<br />Me: I'm not going to tell you again. Stop banging the desk. You break it, you buy it. <span style="color:#66ffff;">And I will gladly take the cost of it out of your hide.</span><br />AC: Sorry, ya. How much does it cost?<br />Me: You need to get a book and be reading. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Not that you know how to read, but...</span><br />AC: I don't have one.<br />Me: You can come get one.<br />AC: I already read all of them.<br />Me: I doubt that. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Oh, well since you've read them all, I need someone to write book reports about each of the books so that other students will have an idea what the books are about when they get sent here for acting like assholes as you have. Which one would you like to start with?</span><br /><br />On and on it goes...Pray for this young man today. My fingers are itching...<br />-Confusia (who is not at all confused about what punishments she would inflict on this young person(?))<br /><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">In Terpsichore World...I had another doctors appointment to try to determine what is wrong with me as I think I might be slowly bleeding to death. Good times!</span><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;">Also, I just bought a plan ticket to fly to Dallas the weekend of April 25th. I don't know if you'll have any chance of getting together, but if you can, let me know.</span><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Geez! I'm seeing spots from trying to read the light torquoise or however you spell that word.</span> <span style="color:#66ffff;">Yes, yes, I'm glad you like it. I find it most pleasant sandwiched in here between your rows of orange, yes?</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I loved the translations. All of them true. <span style="color:#66ffff;">Great minds think alike. You and I have had far too many like work experiences for me to not know your true meanings. </span>When the other kid couldn't do his science busy work without asking me a TRILLION questions, I assigned him a 1 1/2 page on what Scienc'es next great discovery should be, and why. "What should I write about?" ARRGGHH!</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Here, let me think for you. How do you even effing figure out how to breathe? Would you like me to do that for you, too? Can you wipe your own ass? I kid you not, Terps. I need some meds today!!!! Them or me, as you once so aptly put it. </span><span style="color:#66ffff;">A quote that I have used countless times in my life. "Either the kid or me on Adderall NOW! And I mean that!"</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">I think tonight, rather than a hot dream about Adrien Brody, I want to have your dream that I'm beating the shit out of someone. THAT sounds great!!! What a wonderful stress reliever! So much nicer than being controlled, being told you're an enormous freak who eats everybody's food, and listening to a bunch of whining.</span> <span style="color:#66ffff;">I will say that it was quite satisfying and I don't even want to beat this particular person. I can only imagine how nice it would be if you wanted to mangle someone.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Well, I'm off to lunch. I'm going to strap on the old pig snout and snuffle my way through all the lunch bags in the Teacher's Lounge fridge.</span> <span style="color:#66ffff;">Speaking of, I was going to ask you earlier if you thought potato chips and coffee were a healthy breakfast...</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">-Confusia </span><span style="color:#66ffff;">-Terps</span><br /><span style="color:#66ffff;"></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">Terps,</span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"> Have I profiled my other star pupil today? Seriously, am I on Candid Camera???</span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">This kid has asked me at least 1.3 million questions so far. I finally just had to tell him that I would not answer any more questions, listen to any more comments. If I hear his voice anymore today, I'm going to go apeshit. For real.</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-59280989642273676532008-04-03T08:51:00.000-07:002008-04-03T13:16:12.950-07:00Better?<span style="color:#6600cc;">Dear Confusia,</span><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">I'm just checking to see if you are feeling any better today. I hope so. </span><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">Love ya,</span><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">Terpsichore</span><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Sorry I'm just getting to this today. My comp. has been acting up.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"> I am feeling a bit better today, though still not great. Mr. Confusia has been gone since Sunday night, though he's made various trips home to get stuff. I won't lie. It has sucked. I figured that he would be back again because he usually comes home pretty quickly, but he hasn't this time. I still feel strongly that if he's not willing to change his attitudes, then there's no use in his coming home, so I may just have to struggle through this. Apparently, he doesn't want to change. Apparently, he doesn't feel that I or his 6 month old daughter is worth it. That hurts. I mean, all he has to do is take his medicine, but he won't do it. He says he'll take it now that he's leaving. That pisses me off even more. The whole thing blows. REally, That's all there is to it. </span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"> Anyhow, thank you for just trying to comfort me through this instead of being like, "He's an asshole anyway. You should be glad he's gone." That would probably really bother me, so I'm grateful that you haven't been doing that. He does have his good qualities. He also has flaws which make me want to chase him out of the house while beating him with a rolling pin. I don't know what will happen. I just want to have a happy home. If that can't happen with him, then it will have to happen without him.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Love, Confusia</span>Terpsichore, Confusiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10702138675735578922noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2847625025266653985.post-30530353418084051652008-04-02T08:10:00.001-07:002008-04-02T12:19:35.155-07:00Good Time GirlNot having a good day so far.<br />-Confusia<br /><span style="color:#990000;">Must have more information to equally share in your misery. Here's a little funny that should cheer you up. Steven called me last night at around 9:00 and as I was already in pjs sans make-up and ready to crash (as a head injury warrants) I ignored the call. Well, he texted me today and said, "Sorry I missed you last night. I was in your ar