Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Overheard #1

The first in (possibly) a continuing series.

In a theatre, just as the lights are dimming for the opening scene, a man seated behind me who obviously has a glaring lack of knowledge of how the theatah, sweetie dahling, works says:

"I don't know why they need a stage manager. They only have 3 chairs and a table."
UPDATE I was tempted to turn around and say, "Might I suggest, sir, that you adopt a slightly less literal interpretation of the job title?"


Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Dilemma, On the horns of

Don't you hate when God tests you?

My younger daughter just called me. Her sweet, loving ("I didn't want a relationship with you, only your father") stepmother has only gone and hired my younger daughter to work in her daycare (the very daycare said daughter was in as a preschooler whilst stepmommy "made friends" with her father who was, at the time, married to me).

They are currently on vacation (which they seem to be able to afford a lot of, while my kids struggle financially without benefit of the kind of help from THEIR father that MY father gave me and THEIR father - which he has claimed to have forgotten ever happening. THEIR father has forgotten, not MINE. Mine is dead and has either forgotten EVERYTHING or KNOWS EVERYTHING, depending on your religious beliefs. But I digress...) and it appears Stepmommy has left town before my daughter had all the proper papers to work in the day care. This morning, a government inspector dropped in and now the daycare risks a violation notation if my daughter doesn't obtain the correct paper sharpish. The inspector will be checking on it.

In a brilliant comedy twist, said daughter does not have all her papers in part because her father gave Wife #2 our other daughter's middle name when she filled out the forms, which means she originally applied for permits for a person who doesn't technically exist.

What to do, what to do? Should I forget this is the woman who, for the last two years my daughter was in the day care treated me like something the cat dragged in (if looks could kill, I'd have been gone long ago.), tried to give me marching orders with regards custody arrangements (HAHAHA! Phones can hang up rather suddenly, can't they?), slammed her front door in my face when I dropped off said daughter's medication which she'd left behind at my house (slammed it so hard my co-worker, who had driven me to the house, heard it from inside his vehicle with all the windows rolled up.), has systematically tried to destroy the girls' relationship with their father by accusing them of "trying to break us up!", and... you get the picture.

Ah, if only it wasn't causing my daughter distress.

Hmmm... WWTID?
UPDATE - Oh. I forgot to include that the name SNAFU has been rectified already by The Silly People. The only problem today is that there are documents to be picked up and they have to be picked up by D2, who does not have a vehicle. I am being asked to pick her up, take her to the cop shop for the papers, then drop her back to work, a round trip of about an hour. I have a printer's deadline to meet for a theatre program (paying gig), so I have said I'll drive her after that. Still want to know... WWTID? Also. Just how evil am I to consider not doing anything at all?
UPDATED UPDATE - They sent her in a cab. I met my deadline. All is well in Whoville.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Remember feeling like this?

This isn't terribly gripping video (unless this is your family), but I enjoyed watching it because I can remember feeling like the middle child - running for the sheer joy of it, slapping my bare toes against the sand... this, to me is summer. But they'd look at me funny if I did it now, wouldn't they?

Sunday, August 16, 2009

The one with the bagpipes

Thursday, August 06, 2009

Eet's not my dog