the Shakedown: slang. "a thorough search of a place or person." (dictionary.com)

Apparently I'm more demanding than a fag

Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004 at 1:55 pm

One of my favorite things in this whole wide world is UNEXPECTED surprises and gifts. Wouldn't you agree?

So the other day I open my email and the lovely and gracious Dennis had emailed me with a lovely and gracious, unexpected surprise: this new template that you all are laying your pretty eyes upon right now. Apparently, he loves me and just wanted to do something nice for me, so he made me a custom layout out of the goodness of his little heart for free. After a few negotiations, and Dennis informing me that I'm more difficult to work with than any fag he knows, we came up with this layout. Ain't it lovely?

Now don't go trying to get yourself a free layout from Dennis. This was a special occassion and nobody really rocks like I do. But rather, offer him a few bucks if you want a custom layout, or maybe some really strong prescription pain killers or vodka. Whatever works.

So thanks, Dennis, it's nice to have a bitch like you on my side.



Stupid 1991 Geo Prizm

Wednesday, Aug. 25, 2004 at 8:56 am

One of my hubcaps is missing. I have no idea where, how or why this happened. As if my car wasn't white-trashy enough already!

Google Searches

Dude! Someone did a google search for "fuck u angela." Now that's not very nice. Not very nice at all.



I'm going to get BobMcGoogled!

Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2004 at 11:42 am

Here's a little math equation for ya.

BobMcGoogle

+

TheShakedown

+

Lots of Alcohol

=

KABOOM!

That's right people, after TWO YEARS of cultivating our "special" friendship online, BobMcGoogle and I are finally going to meet face to face. This Friday, August 27th, 2004, is a day that will go down in the history books for all eternity. Not only because we are going to meet, but because when we do meet, the excitement in the air will be so fierce, that everyone within a five-mile radius of us will spontaneously combust. Those poor souls.

So the countdown begins... T minus 72 hours (give or take a few)!

Have you been BobMcGoogled lately?



Am I enough?

Monday, Aug. 23, 2004 at 12:07 pm

My son doesn't have a dad. His biological father, Dick, lives thirteen hours away and never writes, calls or comes to see his son. My son met Dick when he was a little over a year old, but he doesn't remember.

My son is three and a half now. He's very smart for his age and seems to understand more than people expect he will. He's at that age where he's starting to understand that other kids in his daycare have mommies and daddies. His little mind puts two and two together and he just assumes that he doesn't have a daddy.

Or worse. . . one of the daycare teachers takes me aside last week to tell me a conversation that she overheard my son having with some other kids. They were talking about daddies. She hears my son say, "My daddy is dead." Then a few moments later he says, "No, my daddy is not dead, he's alive, but he doesn't like me."

Talk about a heart breaking moment. I could have stabbed myself in the chest and it would have hurt less.

Before my son was born, I knew there would come a time when I would have to explain his father's absence. How do you tell a child that his father is perfectly capable of taking care of him, but that he just chooses not to? You fucking don't, that's how. I'd rather die than let my son think for one minute that he's not wanted.

Then last night, the saddest conversation I've had to date with my son happened. We are lying in bed and like we sometimes do before we go to sleep, we go down a list of people that we love and that love us.

For some reason it pops into my head that this is a good time to have the "daddy" conversation with my son. I want to explain to him that he does in fact have a daddy and he loves him, even tho he can't be with him. So the conversation went a little something like this:

Me, "And your daddy loves you too."

My son, "But where is my daddy?"

Me, "Your daddy is far, far away and he can't take care of you."

My son starts crying, "But I miss my daddy and I want to see him."

As my heart is being ripped from my chest and I'm holding back the tears, I say, "I know honey. But your daddy is too far away and you can't see him right now. But mommy and papa and gramma are here to take care of you and we love you."

My son is still crying, "And my daddy loves me?"

Me, "Yes, sweetheart, your daddy loves you."

My son, "Remember when I was a baby and my daddy was holding me?" (He's referring to the last time they met, he doesn't remember, but he remembers me telling him about it quite some time ago. This kid's memory amazes me.)

Me, "Yes, I remember. And do you remember your brother and sister were there too?" (Dick has two children from his previous marriage, my son's half-brother and sister.)

My son, "I think I should stay the night sometime with my daddy and my brother and my sister."

Me, "I think that would be a good idea, sweetheart. Maybe when you get older you can do that."

My son, "Ok mommy. Maybe when I get older."



"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." C.S. Lewis