If you take sexual advantage of her, you're going to burn in a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.

Book ,'Our Mrs. Reynolds'


Spike's Bitches 46: Don't I get a cookie?  

[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.


Steph L. - Mar 11, 2011 7:15:10 am PST #17256 of 30000
this mess was yours / now your mess is mine

Man, I can't even comprehend the quake and tsunami in Japan (and tsunamis elsewhere). I've just had my head down for 2 weeks trying to get through a mountain of shit upon shit.

I've got a memorial service for my uncle in 2 hours.

Work is unbelievable (my department is 5 people; every week of the past 3, there have been 2-3 people out every day; there is no way in hell we can keep up, and we were already behind, and all the crises get put on my desk, because literally no one else has bothered to learn anything about the nuts and bolts of what we do; when I've got an angry, confused BigBoss in my face wanting to know what "overprinting" is and why it would happen -- WHEN I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE PRINTING EQUIPMENT THEY USE -- I can't get any of the actual WORK of editing and typesetting done). Oh my god, seriously.

We have a dog staying with us until Tuesday (it had better only fucking be until Tuesday) because -- wow, this is a complicated story. The last woman who lived with Tim, some years ago, had kids. The kids had different bio fathers, both shitty and absent. So Tim, being Tim, started to have a step-father-ish/paternal-ish figure type relationship with them. Which is awesome. His ex moved to Texas 6 years ago, and her son, now 31, stayed up here. He's had run-ins with the law and whatnot, like you do. And he's been on probation for the past year because of a DUI. He's been out of work, staying on people's couches, and decided to move down to Texas.

Tim helped him rent a U-Haul, and on Wednesday they were going to pack it up and then ex's son was going to hit the road to Texas with his dog (a mix of Catahoula Leopard Hound and Mastiff, I swear to god. But small -- maybe 40-45 pounds). They went to the last place that his *mail* went (which is not where he had been staying) and there was a warrant for his arrest because he violated his probation, though I am not sure what the violation was. Possibly he didn't get notices about meeting with his probation officer, and then missed the meeting, and boom: warrant.

So they went to the justice center, ex's son paid a fine, and the officer told him that he would have to appear before a judge the following day (which would be yesterday, Thurday) to provide proof that he paid the fine. So we took the dog for the night Wednesday night, our dog was vocally disapproving of it, but we knew on Thursday ex's son would be able to hit the road.

Tim texts me yesterday morning to say that ex's son is serving 5 days in jail because when he got the DUI he was sentenced to 5 days but it was suspended as long as he met all the requirements of his probation. So, I guess the point at which you have a warrant issued for your arrest is when the suspension of the sentence goes poof.

So ex's son is in jail until Tuesday morning, and we have the dog until then. And I honestly, at this point, am beginning to believe that ex's son will never make it out of Ohio and we'll have his dog forever, which is not acceptable at all.

I'm still having some pain and discomfort from the maybe!herpes, so that's still freaking me out. If nothing has changed by Monday, I will call the OB/GYN back, but my understanding, based on A LOT of reading, is that this length of time is not unusual. It just hurts, is all.

And my social anxiety is ratcheted up SO HIGH that I lost my shit so bad Tuesday night at a group dinner. To be fair, the dinner started by us walking in, finding the other 10 people were already there and had left us seats against the wall that meant we literally (and I am using that correctly) had to climb over things and people to get to them. And then we sit down and I realize that getting back out is going to be just as hard, and I still have to pee every 45 minutes because of the pressure on my bladder from swollen lymph nodes from my maybe!herpes. So I have to ask if someone in a not-shitty seat will trade with me, and of course no one wants to until I explain that I need to get up and go to the bathroom every 45 minutes and I really don't want to have to climb out (continued...)


Steph L. - Mar 11, 2011 7:15:12 am PST #17257 of 30000
this mess was yours / now your mess is mine

( continues...) (and back in) every time that happens and BY THE WAY, I shouldn't have had to explain that, thank you for the humiliation, maybe I'll just go back home. (All of which I said out loud).

So someone trades with me, but I'm now utterly humiliated and pissed and really ashamed that I probably embarrassed Tim by acting like an asshole. So at this point I just go into bug-eyed-stare-at-the-table mode for the rest of the night. Which probably ALSO embarrassed Tim.

And afterward we had a not-terribly-productive conversation about it, in which he told me that he understands that I can't handle crowds and that it's getting worse, and he supports me...and that if I don't want to get help for it, he'll "learn to live with it."

REALLY??? You'll "learn to live with it?!?" I think that fucking negates the part where you said you support me, Jesus Goddamn Christ.

So, yeah. I feel like I'm about to combust. I've been crying constantly since Tuesday night, including at work, which is, again, really humiliating, let me tell you.

And I *know* I'm not the only person who deals with bad shit happening. That's part of the human condition; I get that. I don't think I'm a special snowflake and no one knows my pain. I know that Tim is stressed BIG TIME about his ex's son and the whole jail thing. So I'm stressed and he's stressed, and neither of us are exactly being comforting to the other right now, which I get happens in relationships. I get that.

But fucking hell, I can't believe how much shit continues to pile up. I'm not handling it well at all. I'm not sleeping. I'm not eating much. I passed the end of my rope about 2 months ago, but shit kept on coming.

And now I have to get in the shower so I can go to my uncle's memorial service. (I didn't even mention this is service #2, did I? Service #1 was Wednesday night, 45 minutes away, and it was pouring down rain and I was leery abut driving at night, on teeny backroads, in the pouring rain. My cousin arranged that service, at my uncle's Eagles lodge. But my dad was miffed that my uncle -- who never went to church -- wasn't having a Christian service, so Dad arranged a second service at his own church for 2 days later [today]. Well, Wednesday night rolled around, and we suddenly had a dog staying at our house, and I had worked late because everything is bad. It was pouring down rain and dark and the service was 45 minutes away on rural roads, and so I called dad to tell him that I was not going to be able to make it to the memorial that night, but I would be at the one today. Dad -- who was understandably sad because he lost his second brother in 6 months -- was PISSED. Absolutely pissed. And I got pissed back at him. Told him that I had to make the decision that was best for me, and that I was still planning to go to the service today, and if going to only 1 service instead of 2 makes me a bad daughter/niece, then I will live with that, because I just don't think it does.)

So, oh my god. I am so sorry to dump all that, and now I *really* need to get in the shower.

(I remain anti-brackety hug. Sorry.)


JZ - Mar 11, 2011 7:20:51 am PST #17258 of 30000
See? I gave everybody here an opportunity to tell me what a bad person I am and nobody did, because I fuckin' rule.

Oh, God, Tep. You're a stronger woman than I am; I would've been twitching on the floor with my brains leaking out one ear about two and a quarter crises ago. No brackets, just sympathy and an earnest hope that any and all powers that be get the rest of the universe to back off and give you (and Tim) a moment of breathing space. Because that sounds unbearable.


smonster - Mar 11, 2011 7:22:31 am PST #17259 of 30000
We won’t stop until everyone is gay.

Great googly moogly, Steph. I validate your assesment of extreme suckitude and continue to be appalled at everyhing you're dealing with.

Dear Universe, STEP OFF THE TEP. Thou risketh the mighty wrath of the Buffistae.

No love whatsoever,

Moi


Steph L. - Mar 11, 2011 7:25:01 am PST #17260 of 30000
this mess was yours / now your mess is mine

Oh, God, Tep. You're a stronger woman than I am; I would've been twitching on the floor with my brains leaking out one ear about two and a quarter crises ago.

I have been, believe me, but...you just get back up because some new goddamn crisis comes along.

Because that sounds unbearable.

Pretty much.


Fred Pete - Mar 11, 2011 7:27:29 am PST #17261 of 30000
Ann, that's a ferret.

Steph, Tim owes you mass quantities of chocolate. Actually, so does your father, but he isn't likely to come through.


sj - Mar 11, 2011 7:28:12 am PST #17262 of 30000
"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."

Dear Universe, STEP OFF THE TEP. Thou risketh the mighty wrath of the Buffistae.

This. Teppy, I'm so sorry you have had so much suck to deal with. And I'm so so sorry that you have to go to another funeral for a loved one. You have been to way too many of those lately.


Seska (the Watcher-in-Training) - Mar 11, 2011 7:34:44 am PST #17263 of 30000
"We're all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?"

Dear Universe, STEP OFF THE TEP. Thou risketh the mighty wrath of the Buffistae.

I would also like to sign the petition for this.


WindSparrow - Mar 11, 2011 7:38:01 am PST #17264 of 30000
Love is stronger than death and harder than sorrow. Those who practice it are fierce like the light of stars traveling eons to pierce the night.

Teppy, since huggy thoughts don't work for you, if I could, I would just sit quietly nearby, at whatever distance is comfortable for you - just to be there. (spoiler font in case this would be too much right now) You are in fact drowning in the shittier side of life right now. Feeling as though you are alone in your stress and pain, even when there are people around you sharing it, doesn't make you a special snowflake. What you are going through is no joke. It's not a bluff. It's not something you are malingering about, or exaggerating. ~ma for you and your family, and the situation with Tim's ex's son.


Shir - Mar 11, 2011 7:38:34 am PST #17265 of 30000
"And that's why God Almighty gave us fire insurance and the public defender".

Dear I-Don't-Even-Know-What, Steph. This is... unreal. I'm so sorry you have to go through all of this, and that it seems so endless.

I wish there was something I could do. I wish more would be reaching out, and won't throw their ignorance and craptitude on you.

You do have my sympathy.