|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
|Had a telephone call first thing this morning from the state of Maine. It was my former brother-in-law. The kidlet had expressed an interest in visiting her uncle for a few days this summer, and I thought it was a great idea too. She misses him terribly since he and her father got into an argument two years ago, and her father has carried that grudge, and allowed it to interfere with his relationship with the brother. After the brother moved all the way across country to the woods of Maine, the kidlet has felt really cut off, and becomes emotional whenever her uncle is mentioned.
She emailed him a couple of weeks ago about visiting, and they've been back and forth about it. I got nervous when he asked for our phone number, because I knew the whole ex-fuckhead saga would have to be discussed. I wasn't sure what side the ex-brother-in-law would end up on. Surprise! When I told him what had occurred, he said that it was almost exactly what the ex-fuckhead had been doing to him and his wife for two years. In fact, his wife had written a letter to the ex-fuckhead, regarding some things he had been accusing her of doing. The ex and his new wife took the letter, and marked it up in red, with apparently viscious margin notes - and sent the original to the brother's FATHER, with a copy to the brother. Huh?
At any rate, he said it. He said, "sounds like Ty could be mentally ill". No shit Sherlock...
It was comforting, probably to both of us, to know we aren't the only ones going through the crazy ex-fuckead's behavior.
The ex-brother-in-law is calling his travel agent to set up the flight. She'll go to Maine in July, and he's paying half the fare. Nice! I'm projecting all my fear of flying onto my child (not to her face, of course - I'm stiff upper lipping it there), but I have such terror of air travel, I think I'm going to have to ask my doctor for Xanax, just to get through her going and coming... Just thinking of her those many feet in the air makes me nauseated even now. Breathe, old girl. Breathe.
Speaking again of phone calls. I got a message tonight on voice mail from a woman who just shouted into the phone "You're slime! Yeah. Whatever. Bye". Hmmmm. Yep. I gave my phone number to the ex-co-Administrator on my message board. Sounds like something she would do alright. Hee!
Listen. You have to read "Dreaming War - Blood for Oil and the Cheney-Bush Junta" by Gore Vidal! This whole Iraq thing - not to mention 9/11 - is much, much deeper than one can wrap ones head around. DAMN! Some of our "leaders" need to be sent to a Federal prison - STAT!
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
One Last Bitchfest for the Road
Get the Popcorn Ready
I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|