I have interests. Right now it’s podcasting, but if you told me I had to stop tomorrow I’d be bummed but it wouldn’t like, break my heart. I used to love to read but I can’t tell you the last time I sat engrossed in a book.

I have future plans to somehow get an RV to move into permanently and just take off across the country. Not enough gumption to actually make any moves in that direction, mind you. I figure my credit is shit and it’ll never happen, so I guess I haven’t really invested my heart into that either.

I feel I’m trudging through life. It used to be when the kids were set, I’d go. But the kids are pretty much out on their own (I’m still around for quick rescues and babysitting) but I’ve no ambition make a move. My lease is up August 1st so I’d be free.

Wow, that’s not where I’d planned this post to go…

Anyway, about passion. I can’t think of anything I’m not meh about. Maybe Kira, but aren’t most Grandparents a bit overboard about teh babees? I like social media events, but I don’t get upset if I miss a few. I enjoy IgnitePhx and ImprovAZ stuff, but again I wouldn’t sit home and cry if I had to um, sit home.

Why am I so closed off? I don’t feel. I keep going hoping something will strike – something will spark an interest. Something that’s more than just going through the motions.

Is that depression?

I’ve stopped looking. I certainly don’t expect anything that serendipitous to happen again, nor anything more average either. I’ve been hit on exactly once since then if you don’t count my long-lost friend who lives across the frakking country. I don’t expect anything to happen there either. It’s a nice thought though.

You know what I miss most? I miss skin. I miss naked tactile contact. I was never much of a hugger before but now I am, and I think it’s a sub-conscience substitute for that more intimate contact. I think that might be what I miss most about being married… freedom of touching.

My last little encounter, while pleasant, wasn’t even close to good – fast, fun, and other than it being situationally interesting, forgetful.

So what’s wrong with me? I get out and socialize. I’ve stopped actively hunting and being quite so obvious about my needs. I’m clean and not that fat. Everyone tells me they like me, I have friends, and even the occasional meaningless flirtage. But I can’t seem to connect with anyone. I just don’t get it.

What the hell am I doing wrong?

It’s really personal, so if you’re just a random Debbie’s kinda funny reader ya might wanna skip this one.

Ready?

A couple of months ago Ginnie mentioned that Brittany (my niece who lived with us for a couple of her emotional teenage years) told her a big ugly. That Buck had touched her (at least once) inappropriately. That’s about all I got… you know getting information second-hand isn’t something you act upon. My first thought was bullshit, then well… maybe who knows right? Thousands of spouses always say NEVER! So I suggested to Ginnie that she maybe ask her girlfriends in a round-about way if anything he did made them uncomfortable. Other than him just being himself; he always made the kid’s friends nervous.

And then it festered in the back of my mind and I mentioned it to a few close friends.

So… Casey and Kira and Ginnie went to their father’s for Thanksgiving. Apparently the liquor was flowing freely and when Ginnie’s boyfriend Roger went to pick her up TheNewWife kept him busy chatting and then told him to leave, meanwhile Buck kept Ginnie distracted until she was so drunk she passed out.

Then sometime in the middle of the night he crept in and groped her. His own daughter. Complete what the fuckage. She said she pretended to be asleep and kind of moved away and waited a few minutes til he left the room. Then went out and told him she needed to go home RIGHT NOW. He said he was too drunk to drive (which come to find out he was) but she didn’t care and he brought her home.

What the hell happened to the man I married? This person, this THING he is now is so not anything like he was then. I could have never imagined he would act this way. I don’t understand it. FUCK blaming it on the drink. Does the constant drinking just make it easier for him to violate common decency?

So we don’t really know what to do. She’s not going to raise a stink about any of it. She’d rather just never get anywhere near him again than be all confrontational. And with it being all she-said and he’ll-deny…

I know you read just about everything I post, so here’s your head’s up. If I ever see your miserable face again you son of a bitch, I’ll scratch your fucking eyes out. Fuck with my kids again? I’ll pay someone to cut your dick off and feed it to you. I have lots of friends now, someone will know someone. And the moment I have some sort of proof or evidence or something other than her word against yours, your ass is fucked you PRICK! Vengeance is mine sayeth the Mom. I hope you rot in your bottle. All that drinking can’t be doing much for your new wife… that OR your tiny useless dick… but do you have to get your thrills from your own daughter? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?

One will be resolved this Thursday, hopefully. If not, I’ll be blowing up here and you’ll know about it then. If all goes as planned, you won’t ever need to know. Cryptic enough?

The other will be an ongoing . . . I hate to use the word investigation but questioning? Checking out?  Someone told me something criminal/evil/horrible about my ex that doesn’t compute. So I’m planning to ask around if this “thing” had happened with other people – for corroborating evidence sort of – because I’m not completely sure about the accuser. Not that I don’t believe, but I don’t disbelieve either. I don’t know. So I’ll be asking around as soon as I figure out how to approach the subject. Tricky. The thing is, even if it’s true there’s not a lot I can do about it now. Except blow up here, right? So if there’s corroborating evidence, then you’ll hear all about it. Again, cryptic enough?

See, I can be circumspect when I need to be.

But Casey has this friend I’m about to lose my patience with. There’s this teasing thing amongst most of his friends, we flirt with each other in front of Casey just to make him uncomfortable. It’s fun and it’s ALL in fun, right? Except this guy:

yuk

This is his going to a child’s birthday outfit. Yes, that’s a beer can in his hand. He brought his own. His usual outfit is this type of shirt in yellow or orange, and *shudder* shorts even shorter in other washed out colors.

You ladies are squirming right now?

The other night I was at Casey’s for dinner and he showed up. My twitter comments show the feelings I couldn’t say out loud:

• Crap, yet another guest arrives. SkinCrawl makes me want to barf. I’m hiding in the bedroom. I need a smoke! NO! #
• 18:59 Stop talking to me! I’d rather take a hot poker up the ass than be polite to you, ya freak! #
• 19:06 He asks what I’m texting. Truth? How vile and disgusting you are. Politer answer: Nuttin.

So at Kira’s birthday party someone asked me if I wanted a piece of cake and I said no, then this guy sidles up to me, actually wiggles his eyebrows and said, “You want a piece of this? And I’m not talking about the cake.”

AAAAarrrrrrrgggggh. No thank you.

Alright nicer people than me, how does one turn aside unwanted attention without being too disruptive to the group status quo? Not that I think I’m so much better than anyone else, don’t you know. But if someone makes your flesh crawl?

I forgot to mention his name is Buck.

Shut UP!

I’m talking like a teenager because suddenly I feel more like a teenager. I’m almost giddy.

Giddy. Me.

Oh I don’t know, there are tentative discussions of visits and hawt secks. Because if memory serves, ALL our sex was hawt secks. I’m not holding my breath or banking on this. Years of trashed expectations and disappointments have taught me to not get excited about anything until it happens.

We’ll see maybe in a couple of months. I really need to brush up on my phone sex. Actually, that might be the only kind of sex I’ve never had. I’m much more of a hands on (among other parts) person.

In the meantime, I don’t give a rat’s ass if that neighbor guy ever comes over for a booty call anymore. I have better options ahead… I hope.

And then I sat in her yard and enjoyed the peace and beauty and I didn’t WANT to come back.

So Thursday we lunched with Cara’s Mom and then went over to the SPAM Museum. Cara had fun giving me shit (see her journal) all through the place.

My favorite part of the museum was the piggy doors. They were soooo cute.

Then we wandered over to her sister’s to see her backyard garden and then to her mom’s.

I had been told throughout the visit that Tracy would never let me take a picture of him. So much that I snuck one of them out in the yard. But when I asked him point blank to pose with Cara he was more than happy to. I don’t know why everyone thinks he’s such a tough guy. I managed a hug and a photo all in my first visit. The guy is mush.

Friday we went to the zoo before Cara dropped me at the airport. The Mineapolis zoo is very nice but I couldn’t manage walking the whole place so we ended up on their crappy monorail.

I will go back.

We lived in a house in Flint, Michigan until I was six. I remember playing in our basement a lot when I was a kid. Dressing Barbie under the bar, some film strip machine under the pool table, and playing three records over and over and singing along. Steve Lawrence: Go Away Little Girl, Nancy Sinatra: These Boots Were Made for Walking and I can’t remember what the third one was.

I’ve been told that after my father came home and found out She’d used her tranquilizers on me She started locking me in the basement instead. I remember the kitchen sink windowsill in the corner being stocked with pill bottles.

Even smaller I remember my bedroom door was cut in half and I was on the inside. I remember one day emptying my toy box and pushing it over to the door so I could stand on it and climb over. I remember the triumphant feeling of accomplishment, but I don’t remember anything after. Did I actually get out? I have a vivid memory of the color and smell of that toy box. Was I always shut in my room or was that a single memory?

My father tells me that he put up the chain-link fence in our backyard to keep me in, but I’d already learned to climb over it before he finished the job. Did I just love to climb or did I feel I needed to escape from something?

I do remember sometimes playing with a neighbor girl. I remember the old black lady up the street that used to give kids popsicles and pennies to pull weeds in her flower garden. I remember watching out the front window as my older sister went door-to-door in the snow to deliver Girl Scout cookies, but I have no other specific memory of my sister until I was much older. She’s five years older than me so I’m not surprised we didn’t spend time together.

Wait, I do have one more memory of her. One night we were sleeping together (it must have been some holiday and maybe we had guests – I don’t think we shared a bed regularly) and she’d snuck a piece of hard candy to bed. I remember the crinkle of the wrapper and her smirk that she had one and I didn’t. Then she spitefully clicked the candy around on her teeth so I could hear it. Annnnd then she choked on it. Seriously choked. I remember a split second of thinking she deserved it before I chickened out and yelled for my Dad. I don’t remember what happened after that, but she’s still around to hate me so she lived through it.

I remember freaking out late one night fter catching a glimpse of my dad as he walked naked to the bathroom.

I remember the layout of that house, I even remember the address: 1222 W. Coldwater Rd. I have a vague memory of kindergarten and walking to and from school.

The rest is stuff people have told me and of old black and white home movies of holidays.

How much do you remember of life before you started school?

Kid’s finally starting to earn her keep.

I’m going to Minnesota for 10 days next month to attend CONvergence and get to hang out with my VERY good friends Cara and Heather. You D*C people know them as the ladies I usually stay with there and they come to the good parties with me. This time I’m going to their neck of the woods to check out… Minnesota.

All my bestest friends have cancelled on Dragon*Con so there’s really no reason to go. Oh sure, there are a few other friends I’ll miss (Cat and Taipa and Loren and A and all my author friends and peeps like that) but this trip sounded like more fun.

And it’s like, three weeks from now and I REALLY NEED to get away from the people I live with NOW and not in September.

So, Cara, specifically:

US Airways Flight 351 arriving July 1 at 5:00 pm

US Airways Flight 35 leaving July 10 at 5:55 pm

I can’t bloody wait! Anybody else (fans, friends, folks) who want to get together just email spellwight over at gmail and we’ll set up a meetup of some sort.