Friend and money are like... two things that are very poorly matched.

I know mixing friends with money is always a bad idea.  I never do it; I made an exception this time because of circumstances and because I felt bad for this friend.

Last year I helped a very close friend out who was really in dire straits; I told my friend that I would not do the work for free, that because of my own financial problems I needed to be paid (we're talking just less than $200, by the way).  I was told I would be paid as soon as my friend received some expected money.  It didn't happen when my friend got that payment, so I asked to be paid before Christmas. I really could have used the money for Christmas stuff.  My friend knew this and agreed to pay me before Christmas.

I didn't get paid before Christmas.  I let it slide.

I let it slide through the new year and the first few months, bringing it up only once and was told yes, I would get some money. I didn't get any money.  It's been a year now and I still haven't seen any money.

I find myself becoming very resentful when I hear complaints of I am so broke! interspersed with stories of shopping trips that involve name brand clothes or $340 worth of shoes.  I am trying to remind myself that I shouldn't let this bother me; that it is none of my business what my friend spends money on, but (clearly) it is bothering me. 

A large part of me feels incredibly disrespected by this. I feel taken advantage of. I am upset that my friend chooses to spend money on expensive material things instead of paying me back; I get mad when I read about it on facebook or hear about it over the phone.

I spent time with my friend last weekend and because I didn't have any cash on me, my friend graciously lent me some.  I am going to be seeing my friend again soon, and I know I will be asked to pay back the money.  I want to remind my friend of the outstanding money owed to me and suggest that I just subtract what I owe from what is owed to me.  This is probably going to not go over well, as my friend is honestly hard up financially these days. I am worried about how this is going to impact our friendship.

I feel petty and small and kind of mean about this.  At the same time, I feel like I should not have to wait a year to get paid.  And yes, this is small potatoes, but I dammit, I worked for that money.

Thoughts?

Just hanging out.

I got my kids back on Saturday.  I didn't realize how much I missed them until they got off the bus.  The first couple of days were like a dream; everyone smiling and lovey and lots of hugs and kisses. It didn't last (it never does). Right now, though, the Hurricane is yelling and jumping on the couch. The Princess is crying because the Hurricane pushed her.  Little Dude is crying because he was running in the house.  With his shoes on.  And fell on his face. And now? The Hurricane and the Princess are fighting over which CD they want to listen to. 

It's like they never left.

Surely I am not the only one who thinks kicking them outside and locking the door is a grand idea, right?

***

Roller derby is kicking my ass.  My legs and butt and abs are SORE the morning after practice.  I am really enjoying it, though, and I am even (slowly) getting better at it!

***

I'm still depressed that a certain person, let's call him Warm Stuff, killed my tomato plant by over-watering it.  I'm trying to get through my sadness by looking on the bright side: it's a good excuse to buy a Topsy Turvy.  My lettuces and carrots are coming up gangbusters.  Cukes, radishes, and herbs? Nowhere to be seen.  I am blaming this one on birds, mostly because I can't stand birds and think they are filthy, germy creatures.

***

Because I am kind of a jelly-heart (don't tell no one), I have acquired another dog.  See, what happened was, a very good friend of mine moved out of the province and couldn't take her dogs with her.  She found a home for one, and asked me to take the other to the SPCA because she just couldn't bring herself to do it.  Turns out, neither can I.  So now, we have two dogs.

And that, is summer so far.

Roller Wonderland

My sister has my two older kids for the next week.

Just me and the baby here.

Yeah. It's awesome.

The last three weeks have been pretty busy around here.  Hot Stuff and I are still Unresolved, but he's been out of town for work for the most part so the level of drama around here is minimal. I have spent some time doing Things That I Want To Do and Things That Are Fun and it feels wonderful.  I went to see Joe Rogan last night.  He was mostly funny, but some of his routine was.. way over the line even for me, I guess. I thought his opening act, Ari Shaffir, was absolutely hilarious. 

I also joined a women's roller derby league.  I went to my first practice today and holy CATS it has been a long-ass time since I strapped on a pair of roller skates. When I was a kid, I had roller skates (roller blades didn't exist until I was a teenager).  In the summer time, the civic centre in my hometown thawed out the ice in the hockey arena and hung a disco ball; all the kids showed up on Saturday or Sunday (or both) afternoons for public skate and had a blast roller skating.   Anyways, some of it came back to me fairly quickly and other stuff... not so much.  Part of practice today involved learning to fall properly and I'm quite certain I will be a rainbow of interesting colors tomorrow.  Of course, since this is a full contact sport, padding is mandatory. Knee pads, elbow pads, wrist guards, approved helmet: check.  Not a single piece of gear prevented me from falling on my ass, which conveniently has lots of padding.

So I won't be around as much this summer, because I hope to be doing various and assorted fun stuff.

Winning Friends, Influencing People.

So I'm in Sprawl-Mart the other day, and I have (foolishly) brought all three kids with me.  Little Dude is in the cart, and the Hurricane and the Princess are shoving each other and myself, fighting over who is going to push the cart.  I bark out, loudly, "You guys! STOP! I can't push the cart like this, so both of you move out of the way!" and who do I hear calling out to my son? His beloved preschool teacher.  Yeah, it was awkward.  All I could do was slap a big fake-ass smile on my face and pretend I hadn't just yelled at my kids in the middle of the store.

Later that day, after soccer had ended, I stopped at the store to get Hot Stuff some cigarettes.  Since I only had the Hurricane, he came into the store with me.  As I am standing at the till, waiting for the debit to finish, I hear a voice call out to my son!! Yes!! The Hurricane's beloved preschool teacher!! As I am buying cigarettes!! In front of my kid!! So we must chat!! And it's uncomfortable!! I feel the need to make the lame-ass excuse of, "Oh these? These aren't for me!" because that excuse is Highly Believable.

Sidenote: While we were in the Big Chain Store, my Princess decided to throw a whopper in the toy section because I wouldn't let her hang around and stare at the baby dolls all day, nor would I buy her one.  (I should probably mention that we were well past nap time before we even went in the door.) By the time we had doubled back to the laundry aisle, she had ramped up the tantrum intensity from Extreme to I'm Going Nuclear, Motherf*ckers, So Watch Out.  I gave her a choice: knock off the crap and walk nicely, or she was going in the cart.  She loudly and vehemently refused both choices, so I carried her like a football from one end of the laundry aisle to the other and stuck her in the cart.  Yes, she kicked and screamed and carried on the whole time.  I just let her go on about her business, because it takes a lot more than a bunch of noise to embarrass this mama. As I am wrangling her into the cart and trying at the same time to place her so she doesn't smash my bag of white cheddar popcorn (Mmmmm), some lady - a total stranger - says to me, "Well, looks like someone needs to spend some time at my house," in this smirky, superior tone.  Really? Really, lady? Let me guess: your children would never behave like this, because you would never allow it.  You would have spanked them and that would have smartened them right up, I'm sure.  Perhaps she has some secret child-beating technique that I am unaware of? Am I supposed wallop my kid for being tired, and that is somehow going to make her stop crying, instead of making her cry harder? Maybe I should have just given my child to this self-proclaimed Toddler Whisperer? At least I was able to give the woman the opportunity to congratulate herself on what a great job she did raising her children compared to the mothers of today.

Some people.

I am trying to find the words without saying things I shouldn't.  I want to post something light and fun but I am neither light nor fun.  It feels fake to say anything but what I feel.  Things are changing around here.  I am not sure yet if it is for better or worse.  Better, I think.  There is still much to figure out.

I have pulled away from my real life people, and my internet people, too, while I come to terms with this change.  (I tried with Five for Ten, I really did.  The last two topics, Lust and Yes, were just too impossible for me.) This is my way; to pull away and let the hurt wash over me and through me, until I realize that I am not going to die. My pain is too private and I am uncomfortable with other people, even my close people, seeing my heavy emotions.

What else can I say?

I can only talk about my feelings:

hurt
sad
doubtful
relieved
disbelieving
lighter
intimidated
hopeful.

My heart; she is heavy.

Memory

Five for Ten hosted by Momalom.com

I think I was ten or eleven.  It was a cold, rainy, snowy evening. Other than my cold red cheeks, I was warm inside my winter coat.  My mother and I were going Christmas shopping.  This was big.  This was huge; it was rare that I got my mother to myself without one of the other Klingons hanging around.

I remember my winter boots.  I remember my mom's winter boots.  I remember her winter-proof, water-proof (probably bullet-proof) Skanska Cement-gjuteriet winter coat; it was just so big.  I remember the smell of cigarette smoke. I remember the bright headlights from cars, the streetlights, and lights in the storefronts, and the way they all reflected off the wet pavement.  I remember the smell of Christmas in the air.

I remember walking across the street, feeling the wet, slushy rain on my face.  My mother, smiling at me as she took my hand in hers and tucked them both in her enormous, warm winter coat pocket.

Happiness

When you're done reading this sorry post, hit up Momalom.com; I'm pretty sure there are some actually happy people over there writing about actual happiness.

I am dragging myself kicking and screaming into this post.  I am feeling anything but happy today; it has been a rough week for me.  I will try my best not to drag you down with me as I go on about happiness.

Happiness:

spending some alone time with my not-so-tiny baby while the two older kids are having naps.

watching my littlest guy cry on the floor in desperation for just..one..more..cookie..please..oh! the angst!

letting my cutie-patootie eat way too many chocolate chip cookies.

getting wide-open mouth kisses (aka "lickers") from my baby guy, complete with complimentary slobbery cookie crumbs.

This is about as much happiness as I can wring out today.

Blogger, thy name is melodrama. 

Debbie Downer is also fitting.