I drank a bottle of wine tonight. Three Pinos or something from Trader Joe's.
It makes me honest.
I fucking still love Paul beyond any love I've ever had before, yet I never told him he was the love of my life like he told me constantly. It's been three years.
I check him often on Facebook, as in tonight.
He seems to be happily married, but....
he's checked my art blog three times in the last month or so from his office, so it is easily identifiable. He even downloaded a picture of my son playing his violin.
Thank goodness for my stat thingie.
I love him, regardless of what he's done.
I think he is still stuck on me. It is not a casual checking in.
His wife is ugly as dirt. I feel sorry for her. I can check her Facebook, too.
I feel sorry for Bea, as she will never measure up. I love her, but not with this passion and I fear her finding this blog.
I love Bea in an odd way. I do not trust her. She snoops through my stuff and my computer. I do not think she will ever really come through for me, the struggling artist and single mom. She's paid her ex over $600,000 in the last six weeks. Just because. She refuses to help me and I am going in the hole, near bankruptcy b/c I decided to pursue the life of an artist and all the costs that brings. It feels absurd to be partners with a multimillionaire when you're about to seek credit counseling. She constantly insists she cares, yet she always services her exes time and again before me.
She is too fucking stupid to appreciate anything intellectual. She is ghetto. Her family is ghetto. They use her and she services them at all hours. Her sister has AIDS and fucks whatever moves, yet Bea does not report her.
Contrasting this, Paul is the quickest brain I ever met, next to his brilliant daughter.
Just like it makes me cry that Memph is gone and can't watch Top Chef with me, I cry because I can no longer be with or trust Paul. But I long to.
So this is my drunken rant that isn't too drunk b/c I could easily drink another bottle.
This is me.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Take that!
I was recently shocked to see the 10 year anniversary advertisements for The Tigger Movie. It's tough to think nostalgically in a commercial sense for the very first movie you took your son to see. 10 years? I think it was yesterday! And he sat through it beautifully, although he was less than two.
(BTW, my first movie was Bambi and I distinctly remember Thumper bounding on screen and Flower peering up through the colorful meadow.)
In honor of J's 10th cinematic viewing anniversary, I present Sammy and a McDonald's Pooh from that era. Sorry, but sweet Pooh doesn't stand a chance against these moves.
(BTW, my first movie was Bambi and I distinctly remember Thumper bounding on screen and Flower peering up through the colorful meadow.)
In honor of J's 10th cinematic viewing anniversary, I present Sammy and a McDonald's Pooh from that era. Sorry, but sweet Pooh doesn't stand a chance against these moves.
The Eye Vacuum
The Rabbit Kick
The Chenille Drag
The Butt Bite
The Sleeping Head Rest
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Out with the old
Although Bea did the preparations for us early in the week, J and I finally buried Sad.ie and Memph yesterday afternoon.
Sad.ie had been frozen for almost 2.5 years in a taxidermy snafu. I'd frozen Memphie as soon as I found him last weekend. There was room for little else in my freezer.
Once we got them outside, J wanted to open up the boxes. Sad.ie was as beautiful as the day she died. I remember her looking so horrible then, but she was so luxurious and just as I always wanted to remember, but had not been able. Although I was scared that opening the box would bring her too close, it actually made me feel better.
I wish I had warned J about opening up Memph's box. He was in full rigor when I found him, so it was a rather large box. Rigor is most pronounced in the smaller muscles, so the face is grossly affected. Memph looked like he'd been tortured by demons, but thank goodness J missed most of it by being on the opposite side. I explained about rigor mortis and J didn't have nightmares as far as I know.
Bea's hole in the backyard was perfect and the boxes fit side by side. J and I remarked about what great cats they both were and then we covered them with dirt.
By 11pm, I was crawling out of my skin antsy. I called Bea to tell her that it is taking everything I have to not dig up Sad.ie. She was just fine in my freezer and there was no reason to get rid of her. All day, I'd thought about her new environment, her thawing, her getting invaded, and her box caving in. It is gruesome and morbid.
I know I'm odd. I want to grave rob my own cat. I was fully expecting more cat pee between my pillows.
Sad.ie had been frozen for almost 2.5 years in a taxidermy snafu. I'd frozen Memphie as soon as I found him last weekend. There was room for little else in my freezer.
Once we got them outside, J wanted to open up the boxes. Sad.ie was as beautiful as the day she died. I remember her looking so horrible then, but she was so luxurious and just as I always wanted to remember, but had not been able. Although I was scared that opening the box would bring her too close, it actually made me feel better.
I wish I had warned J about opening up Memph's box. He was in full rigor when I found him, so it was a rather large box. Rigor is most pronounced in the smaller muscles, so the face is grossly affected. Memph looked like he'd been tortured by demons, but thank goodness J missed most of it by being on the opposite side. I explained about rigor mortis and J didn't have nightmares as far as I know.
Bea's hole in the backyard was perfect and the boxes fit side by side. J and I remarked about what great cats they both were and then we covered them with dirt.
By 11pm, I was crawling out of my skin antsy. I called Bea to tell her that it is taking everything I have to not dig up Sad.ie. She was just fine in my freezer and there was no reason to get rid of her. All day, I'd thought about her new environment, her thawing, her getting invaded, and her box caving in. It is gruesome and morbid.
I know I'm odd. I want to grave rob my own cat. I was fully expecting more cat pee between my pillows.
Friday, August 07, 2009
In with the new
As I said, I knew Memphie was on his way out since the end of June.
I also knew of kittens born on June 5. I did not want one. I was really looking forward to only three cats using the litter boxes. I would own so many cats if it weren't for the litter box.
Three hours from me, this litter of kittens was born to Bea's ex's household from a stray they'd only adopted a few month earlier. To call these people white trash would be a compliment. They are ignorant and malicious. Within four weeks, five of the six kittens were dead. Bea crawled under the house after a deluge to save the last one, the day after the remaining three had been put out by the owners, and I use that term loosely.
The mother cat had already largely abandoned the kittens, as she was an outdoor cat without free access indoors. The kittens had lived inside and were exposed to people, to include children too young to understand handling them.
Bea bottle fed the last kitten for almost a week. Can you believe that you can buy kitten feeding supplies and dehydrated cat's milk at Wal-Mart?
She then transitioned the kitten to food fit for a kitten. She was a good mom, however she and her roommate continued to "play" with the kitten quite roughly, appropriately calling it an ankle biter. Apparently it was used to being played with that way, so Bea kept it up.
I guess you know where all this is going. She brought the cat to me 10 days ago, so for a few days I had five cats. Who knows? Maybe the little monster is what put Memph over the edge.
When I realized that the cat would be coming to me a few weeks ago, I named him/her/it Sammy/Sammie, as it was a name that could go either way, b/c they had no clue of the sex. Turns out, it is a Sammy. He is a beautiful gray that looks different shades from different angles, so very much like Sad.ie, except he completely lacks the composure she had as a kitten.
I said I would take him if Bea pays for the spay and shots. She agreed and said she'd do a one year plan at Banfield, too - not that I'm crazy about Banfield, but it would cover most everything Sammy would need without me worrying.
In addition to minimizing any testosterone in his aggressive system, I wanted Sammy spayed young so as to ensure it is done, as Bea too often fails to come through on what she says. We went to the vet that Sad.ie went to, b/c the (errant) receptionist said they'd spay early, whereas Banfield was trying to get me an appt for late October. During the appt when I told the vet I wanted him spayed early, she declined, then I protested with reason, then they said they'd consider it, as they do spay early with rescues they do. I figured out they fix the unattached kittens early, not the ones who are already pets, in case something happens.
Anyway, during the exam, the vet made the mistake of putting her finger too close to Sammy's face and he lit in, drew blood, shook his head, and growled. She called him "Devil Child" and labeled him hyperactive.
That's Sammy, but I am working hard on the kitten biting and other behaviors. He's people socialized, but was taunted, and he wasn't cat socialized enough to know when enough is enough. It's like he's feral, but he's not. He wants to be around so he can bite and scratch, play that could be cute as a kitten, but cannot be written off as an adult.
I have never purchased so many cat toys. Our motto around here is, "Skin is not a toy." We substitute, we redirect, we scruff like a mother cat would, we isolate, we walk away. We are the behaviorists. And it is working somewhat. He still nips, but he doesn't bite unless he gets angry, at which time he goes zero to 60 on the Anger Meter, another typical behavior for this sort of kitten. The other three cats were very fearful, but now they just whap him if he gets out of line. They have begun to play chase me/chase you, so that's a great sign. We all know our jobs in dealing with him.
Although the vet says that some cats stay overly frisky (aka mean), particularly the ones bottle fed and not having the mother cat's influence, I do think Sammy is being retrained and will perhaps grow out of the rest. For now, all I can say is thank goodness they trimmed his nails so well!
His blue eyes have turned greenish in the last week; he's a very handsome chap.
Ah, don't let him fool you. Yesterday, he napped for one hour in the afternoon and one in the evening. Bea actually crated him like a dog and told him when to take naps. I may use that approach. I do love that he's chosen my fuzzy robe as his favorite bed.
Of course, J is absolutely smitten...and bears the scratches to prove it.
Sammy is nine weeks old today.
I also knew of kittens born on June 5. I did not want one. I was really looking forward to only three cats using the litter boxes. I would own so many cats if it weren't for the litter box.
Three hours from me, this litter of kittens was born to Bea's ex's household from a stray they'd only adopted a few month earlier. To call these people white trash would be a compliment. They are ignorant and malicious. Within four weeks, five of the six kittens were dead. Bea crawled under the house after a deluge to save the last one, the day after the remaining three had been put out by the owners, and I use that term loosely.
The mother cat had already largely abandoned the kittens, as she was an outdoor cat without free access indoors. The kittens had lived inside and were exposed to people, to include children too young to understand handling them.
Bea bottle fed the last kitten for almost a week. Can you believe that you can buy kitten feeding supplies and dehydrated cat's milk at Wal-Mart?
She then transitioned the kitten to food fit for a kitten. She was a good mom, however she and her roommate continued to "play" with the kitten quite roughly, appropriately calling it an ankle biter. Apparently it was used to being played with that way, so Bea kept it up.
I guess you know where all this is going. She brought the cat to me 10 days ago, so for a few days I had five cats. Who knows? Maybe the little monster is what put Memph over the edge.
When I realized that the cat would be coming to me a few weeks ago, I named him/her/it Sammy/Sammie, as it was a name that could go either way, b/c they had no clue of the sex. Turns out, it is a Sammy. He is a beautiful gray that looks different shades from different angles, so very much like Sad.ie, except he completely lacks the composure she had as a kitten.
I said I would take him if Bea pays for the spay and shots. She agreed and said she'd do a one year plan at Banfield, too - not that I'm crazy about Banfield, but it would cover most everything Sammy would need without me worrying.
In addition to minimizing any testosterone in his aggressive system, I wanted Sammy spayed young so as to ensure it is done, as Bea too often fails to come through on what she says. We went to the vet that Sad.ie went to, b/c the (errant) receptionist said they'd spay early, whereas Banfield was trying to get me an appt for late October. During the appt when I told the vet I wanted him spayed early, she declined, then I protested with reason, then they said they'd consider it, as they do spay early with rescues they do. I figured out they fix the unattached kittens early, not the ones who are already pets, in case something happens.
Anyway, during the exam, the vet made the mistake of putting her finger too close to Sammy's face and he lit in, drew blood, shook his head, and growled. She called him "Devil Child" and labeled him hyperactive.
That's Sammy, but I am working hard on the kitten biting and other behaviors. He's people socialized, but was taunted, and he wasn't cat socialized enough to know when enough is enough. It's like he's feral, but he's not. He wants to be around so he can bite and scratch, play that could be cute as a kitten, but cannot be written off as an adult.
I have never purchased so many cat toys. Our motto around here is, "Skin is not a toy." We substitute, we redirect, we scruff like a mother cat would, we isolate, we walk away. We are the behaviorists. And it is working somewhat. He still nips, but he doesn't bite unless he gets angry, at which time he goes zero to 60 on the Anger Meter, another typical behavior for this sort of kitten. The other three cats were very fearful, but now they just whap him if he gets out of line. They have begun to play chase me/chase you, so that's a great sign. We all know our jobs in dealing with him.
Although the vet says that some cats stay overly frisky (aka mean), particularly the ones bottle fed and not having the mother cat's influence, I do think Sammy is being retrained and will perhaps grow out of the rest. For now, all I can say is thank goodness they trimmed his nails so well!
His blue eyes have turned greenish in the last week; he's a very handsome chap.
Ah, don't let him fool you. Yesterday, he napped for one hour in the afternoon and one in the evening. Bea actually crated him like a dog and told him when to take naps. I may use that approach. I do love that he's chosen my fuzzy robe as his favorite bed.Of course, J is absolutely smitten...and bears the scratches to prove it.Sammy is nine weeks old today.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
RIP Memph
Memphie died over the weekend. He was the best cat, so gentle and affectionate.He had a tumor in his abdomen which I first felt about a month ago. It was confirmed by the vet, who wanted to put him to sleep on the spot. I declined, as Memph as too much life in him. Up until the end, he jumped on top of the high kitchen cabinets. He was eating like the dickens, although his hips had carved out, while the tumor bulged like a pregnancy.
We went away Friday through Sunday and I knew I'd be putting him down this week. However, I returned on my birthday to find him dead on the floor.
He was such a sweet cat, he allowed me not have to take him in. Doing that with Sad.ie ranks among the hardest thing I've had to do as an adult.
J isn't home again yet from his dad's. At present, I have two dead cats in my freezer. This happening gives me the opportunity to no longer "wait" on ex to pay for Sad.ie's taxidermy, as it has been almost 2.5 years. They'll be buried together, which is fitting, as they were both incredible cats and I got him only 10 days after she died.
I shed my tears already in this process. Honestly, I am glad I had so long to say goodbye. He was a sweetheart, my secret admirer.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
I venture back here
I didn't drop off the face of the planet!
...for any friends still reading...
I have been painting a good bit, but I haven't been blogging that, either.
I really hate blogs to exist mostly for times of stress and the good times are skipped and I desperately do not want this long-term investment I have here to become that.
My relationship with Bea is troubled, but she is resolute about making it work. I am on the fence. About the many things she promises, I feel like they're carrots on strings, as she has not come through on any of it. However, I can honestly say that she has had the worst upbringing that I have ever heard of and she desperately wants to put that behind her, but I think I am bringing her realizations of the baggage she has and now wants to work on. I'm a fer piece from high class, but she is from the ghetto. Although we have broken up twice, we are considering couples therapy, her suggestion. She is a sweet person with a big heart, but she needs to trust me and to come through on what she says.
My son is doing very well. He's in a nature camp with a friend this week. He finished his second year of violin, but he's less and less willing. Against his wishes, I signed him up for that camp this summer, too, although he will miss a lot of that due to his greatest new love, Boy Scouts and Summer Camp. It could be worse. He's still the quiet, demure guy, but he shows such tenacity, resolve, and composure as a new Scout that I get compliments on him all the time. Alas, if only he were so cooperative with me!
Bea did surprise us by buying him a pre-paid phone last week and he's really enjoying that. I loved it today, b/c my new phone died last night and I got a replacement today, but the phone number transfer didn't work from the SIM card and I was left in the cold today. It'd be so much easier if I could just remember phone numbers!
Painting is going well. Although me showing in public was new in January, I have loved being able to do it. I routinely have three pieces in the gallery, plus now have a coffee shop, library (I have a solo wall next month!), senior center, and government center for exhibits. Selling isn't the thing; creating and displaying are. It lights a fire on me to need to produce. Just next week, I will be hanging 10 pieces in two locations. So exciting. I am enamoured with pure landscapes and painting en plein air. It charges me.
I wish Bea would understand and respect it more, as there are lots of weekend conflicts with opportunities to paint and go to workshops.
Now if only I could come through on another block. So sorry, Val. I have not forgotten you.
If you read the art blog, or the lack thereof lately, don't consider it dead, either. I've been painting instead of photographing paintings or writing. I'll have an inspired day soon and post a number in one day.
Next month, I fly to a family reunion with my mother's mother's family. It's the first time to have such a gathering outside a misc wedding or funeral. My son will be at Scout Camp, but I guess I'll do. Of course, they specifically request the kids. There's a measure of geneaolgy which a 2nd cousin is putting together, so I am looking forward to that angle: compiling about the living!
Three cats are doing well, but Memphie has lost a lot of weight recently and I am having flashbacks to Sa.die two years ago. He's had a check up and bloodwork done, but it is inconclusive as far as I know - just a low amylase, tiny high WBC, and high specific gravity. Hopefully, I talk to the vet again tomorrow about the thyroid. I go to Banfield, a chain, b/c they offer a pay-by-the month program and all office visits/vaccines are included. So far, I've only paid extra for the thyroid test, but I pay so much with time, miscommunication, absolute lack of communication, and plain ol' poor service or caring that I am considering a switch. They didn't notice that they kept a cat who has recently lost two whole pounds in a cage w/o food or water for 10.5h. I just don't see the compassion, but I don't know if all the locations are so over taxed.
I still talk to Lyd often. She started a physician-guided shake diet and has lost about 25 pounds. I am so proud of her for doing it. Her mother has spent all her lottery winnings for the year already, so they're back to normal, but do have a nice sun porch to show for it. Lyd is still hung up on me, but tries with all her might not to go there. Although she'd say she's weak, I think she is one of the strongest people I know. I should tell her.
I tried to get on Bloglines today to catch up a bit, but it wouldn't let me it. Feel free to lead me to any especially telling blog entries you've read or written in the last few months.
Now I'm telling myself, "Don't be a stranger!"
...for any friends still reading...
I have been painting a good bit, but I haven't been blogging that, either.
I really hate blogs to exist mostly for times of stress and the good times are skipped and I desperately do not want this long-term investment I have here to become that.
My relationship with Bea is troubled, but she is resolute about making it work. I am on the fence. About the many things she promises, I feel like they're carrots on strings, as she has not come through on any of it. However, I can honestly say that she has had the worst upbringing that I have ever heard of and she desperately wants to put that behind her, but I think I am bringing her realizations of the baggage she has and now wants to work on. I'm a fer piece from high class, but she is from the ghetto. Although we have broken up twice, we are considering couples therapy, her suggestion. She is a sweet person with a big heart, but she needs to trust me and to come through on what she says.
My son is doing very well. He's in a nature camp with a friend this week. He finished his second year of violin, but he's less and less willing. Against his wishes, I signed him up for that camp this summer, too, although he will miss a lot of that due to his greatest new love, Boy Scouts and Summer Camp. It could be worse. He's still the quiet, demure guy, but he shows such tenacity, resolve, and composure as a new Scout that I get compliments on him all the time. Alas, if only he were so cooperative with me!
Bea did surprise us by buying him a pre-paid phone last week and he's really enjoying that. I loved it today, b/c my new phone died last night and I got a replacement today, but the phone number transfer didn't work from the SIM card and I was left in the cold today. It'd be so much easier if I could just remember phone numbers!
Painting is going well. Although me showing in public was new in January, I have loved being able to do it. I routinely have three pieces in the gallery, plus now have a coffee shop, library (I have a solo wall next month!), senior center, and government center for exhibits. Selling isn't the thing; creating and displaying are. It lights a fire on me to need to produce. Just next week, I will be hanging 10 pieces in two locations. So exciting. I am enamoured with pure landscapes and painting en plein air. It charges me.
I wish Bea would understand and respect it more, as there are lots of weekend conflicts with opportunities to paint and go to workshops.
Now if only I could come through on another block. So sorry, Val. I have not forgotten you.
If you read the art blog, or the lack thereof lately, don't consider it dead, either. I've been painting instead of photographing paintings or writing. I'll have an inspired day soon and post a number in one day.
Next month, I fly to a family reunion with my mother's mother's family. It's the first time to have such a gathering outside a misc wedding or funeral. My son will be at Scout Camp, but I guess I'll do. Of course, they specifically request the kids. There's a measure of geneaolgy which a 2nd cousin is putting together, so I am looking forward to that angle: compiling about the living!
Three cats are doing well, but Memphie has lost a lot of weight recently and I am having flashbacks to Sa.die two years ago. He's had a check up and bloodwork done, but it is inconclusive as far as I know - just a low amylase, tiny high WBC, and high specific gravity. Hopefully, I talk to the vet again tomorrow about the thyroid. I go to Banfield, a chain, b/c they offer a pay-by-the month program and all office visits/vaccines are included. So far, I've only paid extra for the thyroid test, but I pay so much with time, miscommunication, absolute lack of communication, and plain ol' poor service or caring that I am considering a switch. They didn't notice that they kept a cat who has recently lost two whole pounds in a cage w/o food or water for 10.5h. I just don't see the compassion, but I don't know if all the locations are so over taxed.
I still talk to Lyd often. She started a physician-guided shake diet and has lost about 25 pounds. I am so proud of her for doing it. Her mother has spent all her lottery winnings for the year already, so they're back to normal, but do have a nice sun porch to show for it. Lyd is still hung up on me, but tries with all her might not to go there. Although she'd say she's weak, I think she is one of the strongest people I know. I should tell her.
I tried to get on Bloglines today to catch up a bit, but it wouldn't let me it. Feel free to lead me to any especially telling blog entries you've read or written in the last few months.
Now I'm telling myself, "Don't be a stranger!"
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Still looking: the review
I saw three houses today.
I described the first one in the entry below. It has a very large foyer/dining room/living room/curved staircase entry. It is very grand, but not a very practical use of space. The kitchen is impressive and worthy of the house. I wish it had a deck. Everything upstairs is good, to include the incredible master closets. The basement seems to have had a small flood, probably due to the entry well door having a bunch of leaves blocking the drain. There's a slight mildewy odor, but I don't think it is terminal. Much of the basement is dark, but that suits it being a media room very well. Under the whole front half of the house is a huge unfinished storage area. There was a lot of junk/clothes left around, so it was messy and not pristine, but that doesn't really matter.
The second house was much smaller, had a dining room, but no living room. It had two masters, but neither had more than a single small walk in closet. The basement was finished and well lit with a bedroom, but they only left about the size of a walk in closet unfinished for storage. It also almost backed to a busier road.
The third house was not in the neighborhood I wanted, but the realtor, who was very cool, wanted to see it for herself. It was grand and beautiful and on a very large lot backing to woods. The kitchen was spacious, but not huge or particularly open. It has a library, which would probably be the studio, and a large solarium, in addition to the family room.
It had five bedrooms upstairs and the master had double doors with two steps leading to them. There were two closets, but they were regular walk in size vs. the three large, successive closets in the first one. The master and sitting rooms were smaller, too, but still substantial. One bedroom smelled of smoke, as if it were the smoking room, but size-wise it would have to be for one of the boys, although it would have to use the nearby hall bath. One bedroom was a small throw away one, guess that would be the nursery if it weren't so far from the master. Another had its own bath and would have been great for one boy.
Downstairs painted the picture of why it is in foreclosure. It reeked of mold with a longstanding water problem; the carpeting was stained, but there didn't appear to be a water line on the wall. It is unfortunate. It had a great rec area and bar, a bedroom, and a study, which had a large 20x20 unfinished area off if it. There were also two other unfinished areas, each about 14x14.
This home was incredible and Bea would probably pay the preforeclosed price. Shoot, the thing was also on a cul de sac. Guess it was too perfect. Now the realtor is checking on the selling status of the first one and Bea is ready to do a home inspection on the first and last ones. It wouldn't cost much to figure out their problems.
Houses for sale are very difficult to come by in these parts.
Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate you hanging around. I seem to be only able to update one blog at a time; haven't done my art one in a month, although I do have some paintings and such to show.
Tomorrow is career day at school. I am the Resident Artist. Then I drive several hours to spend the weekend with Bea, then I drive back to pick up J on Sunday and drive a couple hours the other way to get a painting I left for a show three states away. Glad they're small states. So I won't be back home until Monday. Guess I need to get packing.
I described the first one in the entry below. It has a very large foyer/dining room/living room/curved staircase entry. It is very grand, but not a very practical use of space. The kitchen is impressive and worthy of the house. I wish it had a deck. Everything upstairs is good, to include the incredible master closets. The basement seems to have had a small flood, probably due to the entry well door having a bunch of leaves blocking the drain. There's a slight mildewy odor, but I don't think it is terminal. Much of the basement is dark, but that suits it being a media room very well. Under the whole front half of the house is a huge unfinished storage area. There was a lot of junk/clothes left around, so it was messy and not pristine, but that doesn't really matter.
The second house was much smaller, had a dining room, but no living room. It had two masters, but neither had more than a single small walk in closet. The basement was finished and well lit with a bedroom, but they only left about the size of a walk in closet unfinished for storage. It also almost backed to a busier road.
The third house was not in the neighborhood I wanted, but the realtor, who was very cool, wanted to see it for herself. It was grand and beautiful and on a very large lot backing to woods. The kitchen was spacious, but not huge or particularly open. It has a library, which would probably be the studio, and a large solarium, in addition to the family room.
It had five bedrooms upstairs and the master had double doors with two steps leading to them. There were two closets, but they were regular walk in size vs. the three large, successive closets in the first one. The master and sitting rooms were smaller, too, but still substantial. One bedroom smelled of smoke, as if it were the smoking room, but size-wise it would have to be for one of the boys, although it would have to use the nearby hall bath. One bedroom was a small throw away one, guess that would be the nursery if it weren't so far from the master. Another had its own bath and would have been great for one boy.
Downstairs painted the picture of why it is in foreclosure. It reeked of mold with a longstanding water problem; the carpeting was stained, but there didn't appear to be a water line on the wall. It is unfortunate. It had a great rec area and bar, a bedroom, and a study, which had a large 20x20 unfinished area off if it. There were also two other unfinished areas, each about 14x14.
This home was incredible and Bea would probably pay the preforeclosed price. Shoot, the thing was also on a cul de sac. Guess it was too perfect. Now the realtor is checking on the selling status of the first one and Bea is ready to do a home inspection on the first and last ones. It wouldn't cost much to figure out their problems.
Houses for sale are very difficult to come by in these parts.
Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate you hanging around. I seem to be only able to update one blog at a time; haven't done my art one in a month, although I do have some paintings and such to show.
Tomorrow is career day at school. I am the Resident Artist. Then I drive several hours to spend the weekend with Bea, then I drive back to pick up J on Sunday and drive a couple hours the other way to get a painting I left for a show three states away. Glad they're small states. So I won't be back home until Monday. Guess I need to get packing.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Life can move quickly
Yup. We're looking at a house not far from here and I'm being specific b/c of the schools - I've been through too many boundary meetings the past few years to err on this one. This home is huge, over 5K sq ft. I never in my dreams thought I could live in a house like that. With the market coming down, it's about 35% less than what it appraised at a few years ago.
What a bargain!
This one doesn't have as good of light as I'd want in the basement (hence, it's great as a Media Room, etc), so I'd claim the Library as my studio.
The Master Bedroom takes up half the upstairs.
I'm not completely crazy about the brick color (too light), but it has everything else and more.
Pinch me!
The kitchen is so large that it has room for five tall chairs and a table for six.
I would move out of my place, but retain it as a rental. It would need new carpet and such; Bea is fine with footing the bill.
Life is good.
I have plans for a bunch of Ethan Allen. My dining room furniture is from there and I love the lines.
I have never in my life had more than one couch. For the last seven years, I've only had a tattered love seat. This house has seven rooms that would take couches.
Jeez, where will I get the time to decorate? I will need to paint big stuff to fill the walls. And I want to buy paintings of my artist friends to fill the house with people I know.
It doesn't have a deck and I have plans for a wrap around one with a hot top and a fire pit. Bea is cool with it. She likes my ideas for configuring the bedrooms with the boys. The only thing I do not have planned is a nursery. That still has to stew a bit in my head. Any additional offspring would go in the 2nd largest bedroom (abnormally large, so could not let it go to one of the boys and not the other) which I had slotted as a kiddie game room.
Is this my life?
What a bargain!
This one doesn't have as good of light as I'd want in the basement (hence, it's great as a Media Room, etc), so I'd claim the Library as my studio.
The Master Bedroom takes up half the upstairs.
I'm not completely crazy about the brick color (too light), but it has everything else and more.
Pinch me!
The kitchen is so large that it has room for five tall chairs and a table for six.
I would move out of my place, but retain it as a rental. It would need new carpet and such; Bea is fine with footing the bill.
Life is good.
I have plans for a bunch of Ethan Allen. My dining room furniture is from there and I love the lines.
I have never in my life had more than one couch. For the last seven years, I've only had a tattered love seat. This house has seven rooms that would take couches.
Jeez, where will I get the time to decorate? I will need to paint big stuff to fill the walls. And I want to buy paintings of my artist friends to fill the house with people I know.
It doesn't have a deck and I have plans for a wrap around one with a hot top and a fire pit. Bea is cool with it. She likes my ideas for configuring the bedrooms with the boys. The only thing I do not have planned is a nursery. That still has to stew a bit in my head. Any additional offspring would go in the 2nd largest bedroom (abnormally large, so could not let it go to one of the boys and not the other) which I had slotted as a kiddie game room.
Is this my life?
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Children, money, and moving forward
Bea hasn't heard from the therapist again. Or the therapist's friend. If something is stirred up again, I'll write the letter. I think it is over now.
We had an incredible weekend together. I drove a few hours to see her. We talked a lot and I feel confident in who she is. I am trying to make her feel more confident in who she is as well. I think she understands me and how cautious I am. We have a great understanding of one another. She's overwelmed that she felt this way over me so soon, as it isn't her usual modus. I think it's to my credit that I am working slowly. In fact, I told her that I like her despite her the money.
Bea has a 4yo son who lives with her half the year, plus she visits often and talks to him daily. They even have a camera system and she can see him all the time.
Bea's ex from the time, Mimi, homeschools the boy and he's a sponge for it even this young. (My son is the opposite, so it's interesting to hear about.) They inseminated Bea and she was at first pregnant with twins, lost them, and got pregnant the next try with Mike. She was fine being pregnant and had a waterbirth because of Mimi's insistence about natural childbirth. Bea went along, but it made her never want to do it again. Ever.
She really wants more children and to have a normal family thing, is interested in adpotion. However, she is willing to pay for me to have IVF and to help, as she'd gone through similar when they tried to get Mimi pregnant. She suggested that I do it. She's wanting to try it with my own eggs, because it is my preference, at least at the outset.
The concept is blowing my mind. As I turned 45, I was largely able to turn off the baby desires. I felt it was impossible and I am actually proud that I could switch gears. I have been able to cringe much less with a baby in proximity; although not perfect, I considered myself almost emotionally healed from IF.
Now she's interested in me trying this. We would have equal legal rights, just as she gave her partner with Mike.
She has several vials left of the sperm used for Mike. Apparently it's a real commondity and people want to buy it. The donor has a great track record for producing children. Over the weekend, she asked me what I would want and I said I'd always wanted another redhead. She said she wouldn't want my ex-husband to donate and I agreed quickly. It would be interesting using the same donor she'd used before, as any new baby would be a half sibling with Mike as well as a half sibling through me for J.
I told her I would not do it right away. I do not like the thought of being engaged in this stuff near the outset of our relationship, when I'd rather be showing her Europe. With her money, though, it'd be possible to go with children and travel.
Anyway, Bea presents a lot of issues and opportunities. She wants to buy a house near me for the schools; I began looking and drove through my preferred neighborhood. That way, locally, I could still do my art thing the way I've carved it out the past few months. I keep thinking that I could have my cake and eat it too, that J could begin middle school in the location I'd prefer, that I could have a dedicated art studio with proper lighting and supplies, that I could have a baby with a partner who would actually be actively involved and sufficient enough to make it feel easier, that I could stay in this area and do all the things I love. The possibilities are endless. I could so the simple stuff I like and not worry. I could never be extravagent, yet I would be able to do so much simple stuff with such freedom.
I already have it worked out with her that before anything her money does jeopardizes my income, I will have a legal contract that my various incomes/insurances/home are protected and she'll be required to compensate me. She's said for herself that she does not require a prenup, but it's funny that me and my piddly interests do.
She gives free access to her ATMs etc. Her last ex went to the ATM daily and withdrew the max - that is, the max that Bea is allowed (like $5K or something) if she goes directly to the card's bank. Bea didn't mind that a bit. What's hers is her mate's.
She spoke of the Vermont laws which allow for outsiders to get married. The only quirk is upon breaking up, when a year's residence would be required during the separation. Apparently the Vermont law can be applied elsewhere, so that legal rights are conferred for hospital settings, financal concerns, family issues, etc. I would need to research this more, because I've assumed for a very long time that I would never remarry.
Although it doesn't sound like I am taking it slowly, I am. This is all in the hypothetical. I do not have my hopes up. I still have way too many walls around my heart, but it feels so good to dream a little.
We had an incredible weekend together. I drove a few hours to see her. We talked a lot and I feel confident in who she is. I am trying to make her feel more confident in who she is as well. I think she understands me and how cautious I am. We have a great understanding of one another. She's overwelmed that she felt this way over me so soon, as it isn't her usual modus. I think it's to my credit that I am working slowly. In fact, I told her that I like her despite her the money.
Bea has a 4yo son who lives with her half the year, plus she visits often and talks to him daily. They even have a camera system and she can see him all the time.
Bea's ex from the time, Mimi, homeschools the boy and he's a sponge for it even this young. (My son is the opposite, so it's interesting to hear about.) They inseminated Bea and she was at first pregnant with twins, lost them, and got pregnant the next try with Mike. She was fine being pregnant and had a waterbirth because of Mimi's insistence about natural childbirth. Bea went along, but it made her never want to do it again. Ever.
She really wants more children and to have a normal family thing, is interested in adpotion. However, she is willing to pay for me to have IVF and to help, as she'd gone through similar when they tried to get Mimi pregnant. She suggested that I do it. She's wanting to try it with my own eggs, because it is my preference, at least at the outset.
The concept is blowing my mind. As I turned 45, I was largely able to turn off the baby desires. I felt it was impossible and I am actually proud that I could switch gears. I have been able to cringe much less with a baby in proximity; although not perfect, I considered myself almost emotionally healed from IF.
Now she's interested in me trying this. We would have equal legal rights, just as she gave her partner with Mike.
She has several vials left of the sperm used for Mike. Apparently it's a real commondity and people want to buy it. The donor has a great track record for producing children. Over the weekend, she asked me what I would want and I said I'd always wanted another redhead. She said she wouldn't want my ex-husband to donate and I agreed quickly. It would be interesting using the same donor she'd used before, as any new baby would be a half sibling with Mike as well as a half sibling through me for J.
I told her I would not do it right away. I do not like the thought of being engaged in this stuff near the outset of our relationship, when I'd rather be showing her Europe. With her money, though, it'd be possible to go with children and travel.
Anyway, Bea presents a lot of issues and opportunities. She wants to buy a house near me for the schools; I began looking and drove through my preferred neighborhood. That way, locally, I could still do my art thing the way I've carved it out the past few months. I keep thinking that I could have my cake and eat it too, that J could begin middle school in the location I'd prefer, that I could have a dedicated art studio with proper lighting and supplies, that I could have a baby with a partner who would actually be actively involved and sufficient enough to make it feel easier, that I could stay in this area and do all the things I love. The possibilities are endless. I could so the simple stuff I like and not worry. I could never be extravagent, yet I would be able to do so much simple stuff with such freedom.
I already have it worked out with her that before anything her money does jeopardizes my income, I will have a legal contract that my various incomes/insurances/home are protected and she'll be required to compensate me. She's said for herself that she does not require a prenup, but it's funny that me and my piddly interests do.
She gives free access to her ATMs etc. Her last ex went to the ATM daily and withdrew the max - that is, the max that Bea is allowed (like $5K or something) if she goes directly to the card's bank. Bea didn't mind that a bit. What's hers is her mate's.
She spoke of the Vermont laws which allow for outsiders to get married. The only quirk is upon breaking up, when a year's residence would be required during the separation. Apparently the Vermont law can be applied elsewhere, so that legal rights are conferred for hospital settings, financal concerns, family issues, etc. I would need to research this more, because I've assumed for a very long time that I would never remarry.
Although it doesn't sound like I am taking it slowly, I am. This is all in the hypothetical. I do not have my hopes up. I still have way too many walls around my heart, but it feels so good to dream a little.
Friday, March 06, 2009
It only gets better
Seems the therapist gave the other woman Bea's phone number. When Bea didn't call last night, the woman called her at 7am. It woke her up and she just got off the phone as quickly as she could.
She was supposed to see the therapist today, but didn't go. The therapist called and asked why she didn't come and Bea said she wanted to stop. Late this afternoon, the therapist came to her house uninvited. Said Bea needed to see her and she added a fourth session to her schedule next week to compensate for the one missed today. Bea declined. It got heated. Bea said she didn't want to hear from her or her friend again. The therapist said Bea still owed her for today and Bea just rolled her eyes. After she left, she called the clinic and said she did want to see this therapist again. Turns out the therapist had, without her knowledge, scheduled her for four sessions next week. So she canceled them and hopefully is free.
If the therapist had not come by, I was writing a letter on Bea's behalf to the therapist. I have urged her to report the woman and will continue to do so.
After doing Scouts all morning tomorrow and painting in the afternoon tomorrow, I'm driving the three hours down to see her; twice in the past we've met in the middle. I'll evaluate things then. I assure you that I have a good head on my shoulders about this. I am not dependent. I have not fallen. My eyes are wide open. She is pursuing me and I am taking it very slowly. I do not think she is playing me (gosh, just think how suspicious and paranoid I am!), but I am very prepared if that's the case. In some situations in my life, trust is granted easily. In situations like this, it is not. She is naive, but I don't think it is terminal. She needs better people around her.
She was supposed to see the therapist today, but didn't go. The therapist called and asked why she didn't come and Bea said she wanted to stop. Late this afternoon, the therapist came to her house uninvited. Said Bea needed to see her and she added a fourth session to her schedule next week to compensate for the one missed today. Bea declined. It got heated. Bea said she didn't want to hear from her or her friend again. The therapist said Bea still owed her for today and Bea just rolled her eyes. After she left, she called the clinic and said she did want to see this therapist again. Turns out the therapist had, without her knowledge, scheduled her for four sessions next week. So she canceled them and hopefully is free.
If the therapist had not come by, I was writing a letter on Bea's behalf to the therapist. I have urged her to report the woman and will continue to do so.
After doing Scouts all morning tomorrow and painting in the afternoon tomorrow, I'm driving the three hours down to see her; twice in the past we've met in the middle. I'll evaluate things then. I assure you that I have a good head on my shoulders about this. I am not dependent. I have not fallen. My eyes are wide open. She is pursuing me and I am taking it very slowly. I do not think she is playing me (gosh, just think how suspicious and paranoid I am!), but I am very prepared if that's the case. In some situations in my life, trust is granted easily. In situations like this, it is not. She is naive, but I don't think it is terminal. She needs better people around her.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Next paragraph
I talked to Bea after the session today. Per the kind recommendation in comments, I googled and found a list of ethical concerns and sent it to Bea. I don't think I needed to, b/c Bea had come to her own conclusion.
After their first session last evening, this therapist called her bi-but-mostly-lesbian friend and told her about her new client. She got the other woman's permission for the therapist to pass along her phone number, which she did and said the other woman is waiting with anticipation for her call.
Talk about therapist-client privacy being jeopardized. It makes me furious.
This therapist interjected a bunch of other personal stuff today as Bea talked, often steering the conversation toward her. Bea felt like she was trying to be a friend instead of a professional.
She wants Bea to come three times a week and Bea is not interested in that frequency; Bea is confused, but she is not a head case. I think it is a financial thing, not one based in need. Bea is a good journal writer and I started her on a private blog a week or two ago. This therapist wants her to write and bring it in, which she did. Last night, she wrote. Today, the therapist read and picked apart each word and nuance. It made Bea wonder why she'd even brought it in.
Bea felt like the therapist's questions were inappropriate, as in how she became a lesbian, to which Bea said she was born this way. She had a boyfriend once in the sixth grade and they punched each others' arms. Apart from her attacker, she'd never been touched by a man, but she is clear to say that she has nothing against men, unlike some lesbians.
The therapist asked how many times in a sex session she would have orgasms. Bea felt very creeped out. And Bea wondered how much of this info would go to the therapist's friend.
The therapist also said to dump me - again. Bea told her that I didn't take to how she categorized all bipolars. Bea explained that I've had years of treatment and am very stable; the therapist apologized for hurting me, but I would actually have to give her much more power if I were to allow her to hurt me. It's silly. I don't care what the therapist thinks, but I do not want her position of authority to influence Bea.
The strange thing to me is how the therapist is cuing on me, because the other women living around Bea have drugged and rapped her and have cheated on her. They all manipulate her. I don't like their hands in her pockets and Bea is very generous with money and ATM cards.
Bea's birthday is in a few weeks. She wants me to do something with her for a weekend. I suggested Memp.his b/c I have always wanted to visit and experience the blues first hand; it's not that far or that extravagent. She loves music and thinks it's a good idea. She said she wants her gift from me to be me singing karoke for her. I am the worst singer in the world. She is perhaps the best, the voice of my dreams. If it's what she wants, then I will. And I will laugh, b/c she is so sweet to crave something that I could actually give. She's not much of a drinker, but I would take a pass that night and have a few.
We talked for a very long time today and we are in a good place. I enjoy her very much and I know she craves the stability I could offer. I like her spirit and her eagerness. We are good together in many ways. I would like to take some time to find out. I am relieved to be unencumbered now.
After their first session last evening, this therapist called her bi-but-mostly-lesbian friend and told her about her new client. She got the other woman's permission for the therapist to pass along her phone number, which she did and said the other woman is waiting with anticipation for her call.
Talk about therapist-client privacy being jeopardized. It makes me furious.
This therapist interjected a bunch of other personal stuff today as Bea talked, often steering the conversation toward her. Bea felt like she was trying to be a friend instead of a professional.
She wants Bea to come three times a week and Bea is not interested in that frequency; Bea is confused, but she is not a head case. I think it is a financial thing, not one based in need. Bea is a good journal writer and I started her on a private blog a week or two ago. This therapist wants her to write and bring it in, which she did. Last night, she wrote. Today, the therapist read and picked apart each word and nuance. It made Bea wonder why she'd even brought it in.
Bea felt like the therapist's questions were inappropriate, as in how she became a lesbian, to which Bea said she was born this way. She had a boyfriend once in the sixth grade and they punched each others' arms. Apart from her attacker, she'd never been touched by a man, but she is clear to say that she has nothing against men, unlike some lesbians.
The therapist asked how many times in a sex session she would have orgasms. Bea felt very creeped out. And Bea wondered how much of this info would go to the therapist's friend.
The therapist also said to dump me - again. Bea told her that I didn't take to how she categorized all bipolars. Bea explained that I've had years of treatment and am very stable; the therapist apologized for hurting me, but I would actually have to give her much more power if I were to allow her to hurt me. It's silly. I don't care what the therapist thinks, but I do not want her position of authority to influence Bea.
The strange thing to me is how the therapist is cuing on me, because the other women living around Bea have drugged and rapped her and have cheated on her. They all manipulate her. I don't like their hands in her pockets and Bea is very generous with money and ATM cards.
Bea's birthday is in a few weeks. She wants me to do something with her for a weekend. I suggested Memp.his b/c I have always wanted to visit and experience the blues first hand; it's not that far or that extravagent. She loves music and thinks it's a good idea. She said she wants her gift from me to be me singing karoke for her. I am the worst singer in the world. She is perhaps the best, the voice of my dreams. If it's what she wants, then I will. And I will laugh, b/c she is so sweet to crave something that I could actually give. She's not much of a drinker, but I would take a pass that night and have a few.
We talked for a very long time today and we are in a good place. I enjoy her very much and I know she craves the stability I could offer. I like her spirit and her eagerness. We are good together in many ways. I would like to take some time to find out. I am relieved to be unencumbered now.
The next page
Lyd called last night and I officially pulled the plug. I told her that I could not be part of her fantasy. I want her to disengage from me and find someone local and I want the same for me. She hates when she feels like a girl, but she's crying and moping. I told her that she needs distance and to not call until next week. I told her that I cannot handle the routinely long phone calls, that I can't entertain her, but I still like her and care for her. I don't see how there's a gray area for her, although there's always been one for me. I don't know how we can be friends.
She can be quite eloquent and she's written me a few short emails. She said she's not in love lost, but rather love limbo. She's excellent at telling herself what to do and how to feel - when she's not being mentally masochistic. I think she's seeing beauty instead of dirt for now.
I've known her almost a year. In some ways, I wish we could have made it until then. Also, her birthday is in just a few weeks. I just couldn't handle the disparity in our feelings any longer and felt such pressure in Sea.ttle. I also felt a huge sense of inadequacy, because I could not be what she wanted. I am not her princess.
Yeah, I do feel loss, but I feel a lot of relief, too. I know I will be lonely.
Afterward, I talked to Bea, who'd had a house call from her new therapist as her first session. She felt good about it, but I have some misgivings. First off, the therapist actually recommended a lesbian friend for her to date, talking her up. WRONG! Second, the therapist told her to run away from me, that she sees bipolars in her practice and that Bea has no idea what they're (I'm) capable of. I have never once had a therapist actually tell me what to do; this is ridiculous on a number of levels. Third, the therapist opened up at some length to Bea about some of her own problems.
This just feels all wrong! And I'm not saying that as a scorned-by-therapist friend or potential girlfriend. Bea lives in the boondocks, but there have to be some choices. Trouble is, when you work up nerve enough to finally call someone, you want it to work and perhaps lack energy to keep looking.
Gianna, thank you so much for your comment and for opening up; I miss it here, too. I have contemplated adopting the label of lesbian, but I do not feel like I would fit in that world. Although I could not at present fathom a relationship with a man, I cannot step into the lesbian stereotypical relationship, either. I don't find myself attracted to the feminine and like the soft butch, but I don't like the June and Ward Cleaver dynamic I see with that pairing. I want a partner who is an equal.
Lyd did leave me with a great parting gift. It should suffice for many coupling sessions - a beautiful glass watermelon dildo. I recommend them highly.
She can be quite eloquent and she's written me a few short emails. She said she's not in love lost, but rather love limbo. She's excellent at telling herself what to do and how to feel - when she's not being mentally masochistic. I think she's seeing beauty instead of dirt for now.
I've known her almost a year. In some ways, I wish we could have made it until then. Also, her birthday is in just a few weeks. I just couldn't handle the disparity in our feelings any longer and felt such pressure in Sea.ttle. I also felt a huge sense of inadequacy, because I could not be what she wanted. I am not her princess.
Yeah, I do feel loss, but I feel a lot of relief, too. I know I will be lonely.
Afterward, I talked to Bea, who'd had a house call from her new therapist as her first session. She felt good about it, but I have some misgivings. First off, the therapist actually recommended a lesbian friend for her to date, talking her up. WRONG! Second, the therapist told her to run away from me, that she sees bipolars in her practice and that Bea has no idea what they're (I'm) capable of. I have never once had a therapist actually tell me what to do; this is ridiculous on a number of levels. Third, the therapist opened up at some length to Bea about some of her own problems.
This just feels all wrong! And I'm not saying that as a scorned-by-therapist friend or potential girlfriend. Bea lives in the boondocks, but there have to be some choices. Trouble is, when you work up nerve enough to finally call someone, you want it to work and perhaps lack energy to keep looking.
Gianna, thank you so much for your comment and for opening up; I miss it here, too. I have contemplated adopting the label of lesbian, but I do not feel like I would fit in that world. Although I could not at present fathom a relationship with a man, I cannot step into the lesbian stereotypical relationship, either. I don't find myself attracted to the feminine and like the soft butch, but I don't like the June and Ward Cleaver dynamic I see with that pairing. I want a partner who is an equal.
Lyd did leave me with a great parting gift. It should suffice for many coupling sessions - a beautiful glass watermelon dildo. I recommend them highly.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
This made me squeal
Lyd's mother won several million dollars recently. It's divided out over 20 years. The amount of the yearly prize is 2-3 times what I make right now, so it'd be living better and buying more art supplies and workshops if I'd won, but not exactly living large.
But still. Their lives are changing. Her mother offered her tuition to go back to school to be a nurse; it's self serving on her mother's part. Lyd earned a general BA last spring, not really having a goal for it, but defaulting to the idea of teaching. Then the idea of nursing came up and she researched prerequisites. Lyd has too much of a temper to be in a helping profession. I want Lyd to go to graduate school in something she actually likes, but then her mother might not pay for that.
Knowing her mother and the strife that follows her (I think of her like the evil step-mother in Cinderella ordering her daughters around), this will be another means of control. I sincerely hope they can find balance with this. I also hope that her mother doesn't gamble it away, too, because the addiction runs deep.
But still. Their lives are changing. Her mother offered her tuition to go back to school to be a nurse; it's self serving on her mother's part. Lyd earned a general BA last spring, not really having a goal for it, but defaulting to the idea of teaching. Then the idea of nursing came up and she researched prerequisites. Lyd has too much of a temper to be in a helping profession. I want Lyd to go to graduate school in something she actually likes, but then her mother might not pay for that.
Knowing her mother and the strife that follows her (I think of her like the evil step-mother in Cinderella ordering her daughters around), this will be another means of control. I sincerely hope they can find balance with this. I also hope that her mother doesn't gamble it away, too, because the addiction runs deep.
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