dingoes ate my baby!

Actually She-who-must-be-named returned only two out of three of my kids yesterday. My middle daughter says she wants to stay with mom. She's only ten and has no idea of the problems She-who is having right now. Trust me, it's not a good environment. She-who says she wants to enroll my daughter in the school near the trailer park on Monday.

There's not much I can do as the legal is still pending. I'm not going to play tug-of-war with my daughter. I can't get my lawyer on the phone (holidays, I think).

I can't prove there's any endangerment going on, either. But I'm relatively certain it is going on. I'm terrified that the courts will see the enrollment as a tacit acceptance on my part. But I don't want to put my kid through hell either. "Get in the car kid!" I can't do that.

Needless to say, it was a bad day yesterday.

away from the manger

Police in Hamilton, N.J., are investigating a kidnapping. Or, rather, a theft: the figure of baby Jesus was taken from its manger in a Nativity display in front of a private home. "Whoever did it must've really planned this out, you know like a bank robbery," said homeowner Candy Konczos. The Messiahnappers left a ransom note demanding $800 "if you ever wanna see your baby Jesus again." The doll was bought from Sears and worth about $69. A police spokesman said the case "does smack of kids playing a prank," but the ransom note is "kind of unsettling." The note was signed "Me, him and the other kid who was really scared and didn't want to take your baby Jesus and the whole time all he did was say stuff like 'you're going to hell.'" (Trenton Trentonian)

...from This is True

all i want for christmas...

Dear Santa,

I've been a good boy this year. I don't want much. All I want is:

• Mary T's writing ability
• Tony Pierce's mojo
• Chappy's dry humor
• Fluffy's single parenting ability
• Nancy Nall's intestinal fortitude
• Edie's urban social circles
• Kristín's bilingual talent and cosmoplitan wit
• Yndy's casusal reaction to stress
• Derek's apathy about how much people like him
• Melissa's age-to-insight ratio
• This Fish's innate ability to write in Bridget Jones' voice
• Moire's ability to get the hell out of Fort Wayne, Indiana

Thanks,
Ric

P.S. Did I mention Tony Pierce's mojo?

asshole

I gave my brother a birthday card today that said:

men may be from mars but brothers are definitely from uranus

I'm convinced that everyone I know and everyone I've met in the past few months believes me a complete asshole. So many things have happened in the last 24 hours to reassure me of this. I'm not going to bother to recount them. I've been told for years that I turn people away with my words. I don't know how the fuck to act. Perhaps She-who-must-not-be-named was correct on this count. I am too emotionally repulsive even to get a date I think. I'm destined to hermitage as a curmudgeonly asshole. How the fuck does anyone put up with me? Why did She?

If I were to pick up the phone right now, I can't think of a single person, when asked for complete honesty, that wouldn't confirm this. Elle? Krisitín? Allen? Fluffy? Mary? Catalyst? Nance? Anyone? Be honest...

love stories told in pictures

The subject of a spam I got this moring was "Love stories told in pictures." Awwwww. Isn't that sweet? Of course, the body of the message read:

HAR.CORE
UNCENSORED
ANIMATED
VIDEO
+ MANGA CARTOONS
[URL deleted]
anime ... BEST ANIME!

Awwwww. Isn't that sweet?

anniversary

I missed it! The 12th was the anniversary of my first post! My blog is one year and one week old! Wow. How long it's been.

Thanks must be given to Mary T. for her inspiration and tutelage and to Tony Pierce for auctioning off his decayed wisdom tooth and drawing me to the ultimate of free-form madcap blogging. A special thanks goes to She-who-must-not-be-named, for without her, this blog would have been completely uninteresting.

NOTE: I fixed both Mary T.'s and Tony Pierce's hyperlinks. They were both wrong. Sorry.

the two towers

I saw Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers this morning at 12:01 a.m. Three theatres at the stadium complex down by my workplace sold out. Geeks-o-plenty. You pretty much have to admit you're a geek seeing the first showing of this movie at 12:01 a.m. on opening day.

The movie itself was stunning if occasionally confusing over who was good and who was bad. Nearly half the film is comprised of the most spectacular battle scenes I've seen. Ever. There are many laugh-out-loud moments, which was refreshing in a movie that could easily have taken itself way too seriously.

For the three hours I slept after the movie (it was 3 hours long not including credits) I kept dreaming of the movie. Except the characters weren't human actors. They were little boxes as derived from meme quizzes like "Which LoTR Character are you?" (see below) The picture boxes with poorly-aliased text were conversing and bonding to fight. Wierd. By the fourth alarm snooze, the Elfs had joined us.

	You are most like Frodo. You're very friendly, and you have a great personality. Although you like to have fun, you can also be pretty serious at times. It's pretty hard to get you mad, but once you're mad...everybody better look out! Keep that temper under control and realize that you're better off than you may think.
What LoTR Character Are You?

see me beaming?

I am driving my 11-yr-old daughter to The Wal-Mart last night to get her glasses fixed.

"So, do you have a boyfriend?"

"Nope."

"No?" exclaims I, in mock incredulity. This is new.

"Well I had one a couple of days ago..."

Okay, this is the daughter I know.

"...but he was acting like a teenager," she explains.

"That's scary" I didn't say. "What do you mean?"

"Well he doesn't understand a relationship at our age. He was like 'do you want to go Putt-Putting with our moms?' and like that."

"Really!"

"He doesn't get that in an 11-year-old relationship all it means is that you hang out together and see each other sometimes around school. He's going to have to wait till he's like seventeen for that 'going out' stuff."

"Yeah," I agree.

"See, he's never had a girlfriend before and he doesn't understand that 'going out' doesn't mean 'going out'. He broke up with me. He lives right over there," she says pointing to a new house near The Wal-Mart.

"I'm so proud of you, honey."

how the US tax system works & what the democrats won't admit...

I was having lunch with one of my friends last week - a very liberal college professor - and the conversation turned to the government's recent round of tax cuts.

"I'm opposed to those tax cuts," the Professor declared, "because they benefit the rich. The rich get much more money back than ordinary taxpayers like you and me and that's not fair."

"But the rich pay more in the first place," I argued, "so it stands to reason they'd get more money back."

I could tell that my friend was unimpressed by this meager argument.

So I said to him, let's put tax cuts in terms everyone can understand: Suppose that every day 10 men go to a restaurant for dinner. The bill for all ten comes to $100.

If it was paid the way we pay our taxes,
        The first four men paid nothing;
        The fifth paid $1;
        The sixth paid $3;
        The seventh $7;
        The eighth $12;
        The ninth $18.
        The tenth man (the richest) paid $59.


The 10 men ate dinner in the restaurant every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement until the owner threw them a curve.

Since you are all such good customers, he said, I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily meal by $20.

Now, dinner for the 10 only costs $80. The first four are unaffected. They still eat for free. Can you figure out how to divide up the $20 savings among the remaining six so that everyone gets his fair share?

The men realize that $20 divided by 6 is $3.33, but if they subtract that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would end up being paid to eat their meal.

The restaurant owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same percentage, being sure to give each a break, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay.

        And so now:
        Along with the first four, the fifth man paid nothing,
        The sixth pitched in $2,
        The seventh paid $5,
        The eighth paid $9,
        The ninth paid $12,
        Leaving the tenth man with a bill of $52 instead of $59.


Outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings, "I only got a dollar out of the $20," complained the sixth man, pointing to the tenth, "and he got $7!"

"Yeah, that's right," exclaimed the fifth man. "I only saved a dollar, too. It's unfair that he got seven times more than me!"

"That's true," shouted the seventh man. "Why should he get $7 back when got only $2? The wealthy get all the breaks!"

"Wait a minute," yelled the first four men. "We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the poor."

Then, the nine men surrounded the tenth man (the richest one, paying the most) and beat him up.

The next night the richest man didn't show up for dinner, so now the nine men sat down and ate without him. But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something very important. They were $52 short!

And that, boys, girls and college professors, is how America's tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up at the table any more.

from various and sundry places on the net.

address

I finally got Her on the phone last night. It was like pulling teeth to get her current address. I don't know what she was afraid of. That I would come over and steal stuff? Harass them? I don't know. I have been very open and relatively cheerful through all of this. She's been closed and dour. It's a bit frustrating.

Then there's my mother-in-law, who talks. All the time. It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't repeat herself so damned much.

oh!

And I finally got caught up on sleep. Should be able to be very productive today. I should sleep more often. My outlook is far rosier today.

parenting

Well, full-time parenting is going well so far. The fact that my mother-in-law is living with me is a big help (and marginally annoying). If you do the math you'll see that She-who was going to move the kids and leave her retired mother out in the cold. I get along better with her mom than she does. Anyway...

It's nice to be able to clean and not worry about Her stuff. Or what She'll think about where things are put away or what's thrown away. I don't think she's going to take her mid-week "parenting time" ("visitation" to those of you in Rio Linda, CA) and I'm even doubting if she's going to take her weekend this weekend. All the more fuel for my fire I guess, but sad for the kids.

mr. mom

My lawyer and I agreed that I'd talk to She-who-must-not-be-named before we got into legal action.

SATURDAY:
"You still going to move?" I ask.
"Yes."
"I think I'd like you to go ahead and move in with your boyfriend and leave the kids here with me."
"You said you couldn't afford the house."
"I said I couldn't afford the house if I were paying you child support. I think the kids would be better off here with me. In the same house. In the same school."
"Oh, they'll be fine."
"No they won't. It's too unstable. You're too unstable."
"Unstable? How am I unstable?"
In a way that everyone in two counties sees you are unstable except for you.
"You know. Moving them to a mobile home in another county. Moving guys in that you hardly know. Wanting to marry a guy you've known for four weeks* and live on his disablity, my support and quit your job so you can pay for your truck. That kind of unstable."
"What do the kids think?"
"Oh, they are all for staying here with me."
"Let's ask them."

I call them in. We ask them. Oldest and Youngest love the idea. Middle doesn't want to have to choose between parents. There is some discussion about splitting the kids up, but I'm not willing to entertain it. Exeunt kids.

"We'll talk when you bring them home Sunday." says She.
"So are you going to think about it and make a decision, or should I go ahead and get a court date?"
"I'll think about it. We'll talk on Sunday."

SUNDAY:
I get home at 6:15. She's been gone all weekend and shows up just before I do. Explorer open and at the front door. Clearly about to move stuff.

Me, after a few tries, and helping She and He move out The Big TV: "So what's up?"
"Well, I've decided to let you play Mr. Mom."
"Thank you," I say, smiling.
Later, we talk about support and truck payment, etc.
"So are you going to fight for custody in the divorce settlement?*"
"No. I'm just going to wait. They'll get sick of you and want to come be with me. I don't know what you and my mom have been telling them..."
We've been brainwashing them. Telling them we'll let them stay in the house and go to the same school and keep the same friends. Not.

I now have de facto custody.

---

*She wants the divorce ASAP so she can marry this guy.

lawyer

I saw a lawyer today about the custody. We (the lawyer and I) agreed that I'd talk to my wife about it over the weekend and if she flat out refuses to consider a custody swap, we'll get a court date for a temporary custody hearing.

i'll be mellow when i'm dead

I generally loathe posting lyrics, because they are not original content and they are usually hard to follow if you don't know the music. I'm going to make an exception because not only is this 'Weird Al' Yankovic song one of my favorites, it also speaks very strongly to my core being. It's this kind of innate inhibition that's kept me sober for so many years. I don't need to drink to lose my inhibitions. I have none.

I don't care about your karma.
I don't care about what's hip.
No space cadet's gonna tell me what to do.
I won't swim in your Jacuzzi.
You can't make me settle down.
I'd rather kick and jump and bite and scratch,
And scream until I'm blue.
I may as well be hyper,
As long as I'm still around.
'Cause I'll have lots of time to be laid back,
When I'm six feet under ground.

[CHORUS]
I'll be mellow when I'm dead.
I'll be mellow when I'm dead.
I'll be mellow when I'm dead.

When are you cosmic cowboys gonna get it through your head?

I'll be mellow when I'm dead.
I'll be mellow when I'm dead.
I'll be mellow when I'm dead.


I can't stand the smell of incense.
I don't really like to jog.
No Joni Mitchell eight-tracks in my car. (ooh)
I hate anything organic.
Even health food makes me sick.
You won't catch me sipping Perrier
Down in some sushi bar.
I tell you, now's the time to go for
All the gusto you can grab.
You'll have plenty of time to be low-key
When you're laid out on the slab.

[REPEAT CHORUS]

I don't want no part of that vegetarian scene.
I won't buy me a pair of designer jeans.
No redwood hot tub to my name.
I got all that I want,
And if it's all the same to you,
I don't need a course in self-awareness
To find out who I am.
And I'd rather have a
Big Mac or a Jumbo Jack
Than all the bean sprouts in Japan!

So don't ask me what I'm into.
I don't need to prove I'm cool.
I'll break your arm,
If you ask me what's my sign.
I won't tell you where my head's at.
I don't need to see no shrink.
Psychosis may be in this year,
But I'm really not that kind,
And I'm in no hurry to be casual.
In fact I think I'll wait
Until I'm pushing up the daisies.
(Like, wow, man, can you relate?)

[REPEAT CHORUS]
[REPEAT CHORUS]

-- "I'll be Mellow When I'm Dead", 'Weird Al' Yankovic, 'Weird Al' Yankovic (1983)

culmination

The ultra-understanding Bitchen Ric has hit the breaking point.

She will not move my children into a mobile home in a different county and quit her job to live off of my child support and Boyfriend Number Two's social security checks so she can afford to keep her Shiny Red 1999 Ford Explorer.

I'm talking to a lawyer tomorrow. There is little doubt (based on a recent history that I didn't detail here) I will be awarded custody.

The capper was when her brother and mom both told me that I needed to take the kids 'cause She-who-must-not-be-named was off the deep end.

It saddens me greatly because two years ago she was a fairly stable person and a notable mother. But, alas, it's all about the children.

Fuck her.

quick christmas decorating poll

I bought 500 purple mini-lights last night (I love purple, and I hadn't seen them before, and no, I'm not gay.) I just want to know: should I go with gold or silver balls with the all-purple-light tree? Or something else? Please comment.

Oh! I got my kitchen all put together. I had to buy a toaster oven 'cause my gas (for the stove) won't be on until today. I had to, you see, because the only holiday tradition I have (having not celerbrated christmas for the first 30 years of my life, thuse the dilemma in the first paragraph) is to make Pillsbury cinnamon rolls (with Icing!) on Thanksgiving morning. Something we've done since I was too young to remember. So I got a toaster oven (at the recommendation of cow-orkers at my company's deep-fried turkey dinner Wednesday afternoon) so I could make them. An 8" cake pan just fits in it! Damn! that little bugger is useful! I used it all weekend...