I’m not sure the last time I updated this thing. Not only have I been stupid busy, my laptop is in the shop. Or at Best Buy getting a new screen. I’m at the grandpeople’s house now, picking up my offspring since they spent the night last night. Immediately upon arriving an hour ago, I raided the fridge and asked grandma to make some coffee since I still haven’t mastered her new coffee pot. Anyway, Matt and I broke up a few months ago. I’m not going into any details on a public blog, but basically I got sick of dating a fourteen year old girl. Since then I have encountered a few characters. There was the scientist I dated for a short time. After a month of seeing each other regularly we decided to tell the Facebook world we were in a relationship with each other. An hour after the update he called, frantic, basically hysterical.
“Oh my God, something really really bad has happened,” he said, “it’s really bad.”
“What’s up?” I asked. I was already used to his dramatic outbursts and had been extremely busy inhaling a bowel of ramen.
“My mom and sister saw our relationship update and they’re really mad. They want me to date this girl they’ve been trying to set me up with and they said they don’t want me to date anyone else but her.”
I was annoyed that this was the “really bad” issue and said, “I fail to see why this is our problem. They’ll get over it.”
“No!” he screamed, which startled me slightly, “my mom and sister don’t just get over things. Plus the girl they want me to date had cancer.”
I was becoming irritated with the conversation and let him know that.
“Where’s your compassion?” he asked, “my mom already told her that I was going to date her and now she’s heart broken. She had CANCER five years ago. She’s already seen enough pain.”
“This is the most retarded conversation I’ve had in over a week,” I told him, “I have no idea why I haven’t hung up on you yet. Calm the shit down and tell those people to go bother someone else.”
“We have to take down our relationship status and pretend like we’re just friends until I get this straightened out,” he said, “give me a few months to ease mother into it.”
“Unacceptable,” I told him, “But good luck with yourself if you do that.”
“My sister and I were verbally abused when we were kids,” he said, “so my mom is really protective and she just isn’t ready for me to date anyone she hasn’t known for a while.”
“Verbal abuse is what parents do,” I said, “grow some balls or something but I’m over your retarded freak out.”
I hung up on him. The next week his mother and sister called him every time we were together, yelling at him for not dating the girl they had chosen for him. They told him how cruel he was for rejecting someone who had survived cancer.
“Look on the bright side,” I told him during dinner, “that girl is ALIVE. Cancer isn’t a goddam crutch. This girl is throwing a fit and she gets a group of retards all worked up because she had cancer five years ago? Sounds like someone should bitch slap some common sense into her.”
He was horrified and told me all the negativity was causing his spiritual life major trauma.
“My bed levitated three feet off the ground last night,” he said, “and some shadow was screaming latin at me.”
“We both know that did not happen,” I said, “enough.”
“Jess, it did.”
“That is called schizophrenia,” I said casually, “I suggest you seek medical attention.”
After that, I pretty much decided he was a freakshow and something gross was going on between him and his lunatic sister and creepy mom. I told him he reminded me of a VC Andrews novel and not to contact me again. Between that moron and now, I’ve experienced some lunatics. There was the guy who drives yellow vehicles and sent me a picture of himself holding a whole bunch of cash. I was unable to take that yahoo seriously. There was the bodybuilder who spent more time than me making himself look pretty and constantly griped at me for my eating habits and “poor skin regime.” There was the guy who claimed my love for the ninja turtles was a sexual fetish. Retard. So that’s what has been going on in my ever stable love life.
The kids and I moved into a new apartment recently. I love it but hate how messy Caleb is able to keep it. We have this rail upstairs that he loves to throw things over and he throws things faster than I can clean. Makayla is a good girl about stuff like that and quick to try to help when he destroys everything we own. She’s also really good about reading to her brother while I attempt to clean the catastrophes he creates all over the house.
That’s about all I have to update right now since I’m about to go to Pizza Hut. There was alarming curiosity over the dumb scientist which is why I even mentioned that yahoo so now we can all stop talking about it. Namaste friends.
