"Do the, do the, do the do do do" - Frankie Smith

Gimme a "HO" if you got your funky bus fare...

The funk of the day has exhausted me.  After my mom told me the ugliness stemming from the Greasy Dough Boy I started to walk back to the hotel from a great day of skiing.  I just couldn't see myself enjoying the rest of the day, and it was only around 2 pm...

Fe Fi Fo Fum, well I'll be darned here it comes, the Double Dutch Bus is on the street

So as I was walking to the shuttle bus, lugging my rental skis and stomping in the rental boots that were finally the right size, I envisioned myself back at the hotel:  just sitting there, feeling sad and hurt and full of hate and no punching bag to take it out on.  Then I figured I would get depressed and lost on some mindless computer game, or movie, or gossip magazine crap. 

you'd better get off the curb, move your feet

"Fuck it, fuck him", I thought, "I won't let the Dough Boy ruin my day", so I turned right around and stomped back up to the mountain, with my red, runny nose, tired legs and aching feet.  Yet I was on a mission, and come hell or high water my day was about to change. 

Let me tell you what I say when I'm dealing with the funky sidewalk
Let me show you how to walk when I gotta do my funky walk
Let me tell you what I say when I'm dealing with the funky sidewalk
I say...

 sssssssss-sugar...

actually, no.  I asked the girl at the Starbuc counter to put Splenda in the cup before they made my cappuccino, otherwise it sticks to the foam and doesn't dissolve right.  But I called my husband and told him all about my new attitude and he came down and joined me for some well-deserved caffeinated quality time.  What a man.

Put on your skates don't forget your rope
Cause I know I'm gonna see you
At my Double Dutch Show

I didn't ski anymore, but we did sit and enjoy just being there.  We picked up the kids from ski school and while their dad took them to the big bouncy thingy I went back to the hotel to pickup our skates.  Our ice skates.  Little one decided (after what seems like an hour you spend putting on the skates tightly enough) that it was too cold.  So back on the bus I was, but this time sharing my iPod with my daughter.

Come on, get on my Double Dutch Bus (The Double Dutch Bus!!)

I know she's not as passionate about my music, but fortunately when I got back my husband showed me he's as passionate about my family as I am.  It was one of the most beautiful gifts he's ever given me, how disgusted/horrified/angry he was at the situation my parents are facing.  So much so he called my mom and they had a good talk.

 Let me hear you say do that
(Do that)
Let me hear you say Do that again
(Do that again)

I escaped for a little while to the City Market to get some more ruby red grapefruits that I'm so incredibly addicted to, among other things.  I then got a sweet card for my husband, one he deserved along with all my love.

It's in the small things we find the greatest treasures.  In a phone call, in a reaction, and in so many things that many people will never know (think Dough Boy).  To know my husband loves my mom so much, to know we've been on this road for such a long time and we finally seem to be "getting there", where we genuinely react to each other from the heart, and the reaction is a good one, and one that is well understood - no longer much room for miscommunication.

On my way back from the market Double Dutch came on my iPod, and it seemed both completely irrelevant and totally well-suited for this day all at once.

Funk it.

Fuck it.

G.

There *has* to be a speciall sort of hell...

 Oh, how I hate days like this...

I assume not many of you know my family situation, but my mom has been married and living with my step-dad for 25 years.  

And then it gets ugly, as it has been ugly for over a year.  

My step-brother is suing to have my step-dad declared incompetent and take over all of his finances.  He has many times said he'd have him declared incompetent and put him away.  He is very greedy and has been harassing my parents. 

Here are some of the wonderful things he's done so far:  

- He has sent fax after fax to anyone in the family to make outrageous claims,

- fired my brother (who was working for the company my step-dad owns),

- changed the ownership of my parent's house from their names to a company's (my step-dad changed it back),

-canceled my step-dad's doctor's appointments so they wouldn't give him the medicine he needs for the dementia he is suffering from, 

- told my parent's realtor not to help them find a new house,

- has been going to the old house they lived in and stealing art and furniture (he has a key and no one is living there).   

My mom got a restraining order against him, but it was revoked when the court asked my step-dad (who, remember, is suffering from dementia) if he wanted to see his "children", of course he said yes.  

This piece of shit is trying to kill my parents with the stress he is causing them.  The trial is on March 9th, and today my mom received a document from the State of Florida, Department of Children and Families because she's been named as the alleged perpetrator of Abuse, Neglect, or Exploitation in a case involving my step-dad.  This meeting is set for the 8th, the day before the trial.  They have been married for 25 years and for those who've met my mom, you know this is completely outrageous, she takes care of him, gives him his meds, keeps him on track and loves him with all her heart.  

I am about to explode.  I have so much hurt and anger in my heart it's unbelievable.  I truly think this piece of scum is trying to make my parents either have a stroke or nervous breakdown from the stress, and at ages 83 and 76, they are just not as strong as they once were...  

I might have to take a trip to Florida just so my mom won't be alone during the trial, although she doesn't want me to come.  I hate feeling like my hands are tied when I would love to wrap them around this scumbag's neck.  He really, truly wants to destroy my parents, and I fear that if the court gives him all the financial power, their life would be hell, and I don't want the end of their lives to be so incredibly ugly.  

Anyway, that's all really.  I just had to vent.  I am sad that I can't "rise above it", that I can't get over the hatred I feel, the want to physically/emotionally/mentally hurt this person, as he is the one who's planting all these seeds of hatred in our hearts.  I want to be forgiving, understanding, but at the moment I just want to put on a pair of steel-toe workboots and stomp on his fat face.  He is the evil twin of the Pillsbury Doughboy, the one with the greasy face, in case you need some sort of visual reference...  

My husband and I don't think it will end after the trial, no matter the outcome, this evil piece of slime will continue to make them miserable, so as wrong as it may seem, there has to be a special sort of hell for him.  

Thanks for reading,
Gabriela

NOT working and a crazy day

By the way... we're in Colorado skiing.

I can feel the medicine's effects starting to dwindle...  I will probably have to go up on the dosage.  Or maybe it's the thin mountain air. 

Yesterday I was skiing with our daughter.  I got to catch a nano-second glimpse of her going off the trail and down the side of the mountain.  What a horrible thing I never want to see again.  I could hear her screaming for me and all I could think of was that she was just rolling on down the mountain...  I kept screaming to let her know I was coming to get her, but she wouldn't stop screaming.  Of course I popped my skis off and tried to run to her (impossible to do in ski boots).

When I got there (fortunately there was a woman stopped trying to help her with a ski pole) I saw that although she wasn't easily reachable, she wasn't as far down as her screaming led me to think (YES she was scared, but she can be a bit of a drama queen -- I wonder where she gets it?).  So I jumped down to her to pull her out, undid her skis and had her walk back up the mountain on my body, pushed her booty up until she could stretch her arms up for 2 people (someone else showed up) to pull her up.  I sent her skis up and then tried to climb out myself.  It was very hard to do, as I kept sinking into the snow.  I did have to get help from the woman (God bless her!) and the man who showed up later (and him too!) or I would have had a lot of snow packed inside my clothing...

Oh, and that's not all, before that ordeal I found a boy on the mountain who had lost his dad.  He was crying so hard, yet didn't stop anyone to ask for help, just kept standing there looking up the hill as if he was waiting on someone.  Fortunately I stopped to ask him a question (he *had* been there a very long time) and when he answered I saw he was crying and had been for a while.  I called his mom and had to leave a message and Murphy's law, she called me back right when I was trying to hoist our daughter out of the mess she was in, all tangled up in her skis, snow and a tree.

Oh, and even before that, sometime between finding the boy and the downhill adventure, I was coming down this little trail, but because I didn't notice this small little, but high enough jump, I lost control.  Not only did I lose it, but I ran smack into a woman who fell pretty hard by the edge of the mountain, her cell phone flying into the snow...  Funny enough, it was the same woman who later stopped to help my baby...

I know, it all sounds crazy, but it's late, I am dying to go to bed and I have reallllly bad pains in my stomach.  Ok, so I have gas and I'm going off to fart.

Which reminds me, dinner tonight was fabulous (have the African Black Ruff, trust me you won't mind all the farting afterwards, just make sure you sleep with someone who really loves you).

G

Oh, and curling is just NOT a sport.  Snowball fighting is more of a sport that curling.

"El Hijo De La Novia"

What do you do when a movie leaves you wanting more, wanting to travel down to Argentina, meet the family (especially Juan Carlos!) and spend your days at "Lollobrigida's", taking in the scents, the sounds, the red wine...  

I am so melancholic, but after seeing one of the best movies ever, I am the better for it.   And although at times (during my 2nd viewing of it) it seemed to slow down (but again, only during my *second* time seeing it - a day after the 1st time) I am haunted, pensive and want to reach down deep inside myself and write.  

But that's the problem... I can't think of a thing I could write about that would even come close to the grand explosion of an emotional volcano I feel brewing inside. 

How to tap into that?   

This is where I will sign off and write on my own, in private. 

We'll see what comes out.  

G

35,000 names for baby

I used to have the book of the above title and loaned it to someone who never brought it back, which is too bad because I need it.  No, it's not what you think.

I love my new laptop so much, I'm thinking of naming it.  But first I have to figure out if it's a male or a female...  I think it's a she.  Has to be. 

Because it's a brilliant, smart, multitasker that can handle anything I need it to do.  And all I have to do is understand it. 

G

Arrested Relationship

Last night, just after the poker game was done and everyone had gone home, I sat on the couch and turned to my Tivo.  And what I had been waiting for for the past eternally long few weeks was there: a new episode of "Arrested Development".  Not only was it a new one, it was the last one.

I selected this "episode" to get the info on it (savor every moment) and quickly realized that it was actually a 2 HOUR long show.  It was divided into 4 episodes but... our Tivo had only recorded 38 minutes of it.

Although I know my husband didn't do anything wrong when he put back the receiver, the Tivo box and the dvd/vcr thing back into their place in order to make room for my party, something went wrong and the units overheated, so the recorder stopped 38 minutes into "Arrested."

Now, it's sad.  It's just so sad.  I have been with my husband for almost 14 years, through hell and high water as some of you know.  We have had horrible fights, wonderful sex, terrible tempers, we've been apart, we've had 2 children, 2 miscarriages, heartbreaks, and after 14 years, there is nothing so far that has destroyed our relationship.  We are the equivalent of "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger".

Yet...  

I could have single-handedly and in a matter of seconds reduced him to mere crumbs on our hardwood floor when I realized what had happened.  I was fine until he seemed upset with me for being upset over the devastating loss of my show.  I tried to think of the birth of our children, our wedding, all of that, yet I was living in one of those bad beer commercials where the guy leaves the girl because she drank his beer.  And Arrested Development was my beer.

My beer and the dealbreaker.  I started having one of those conversations in my head where rational me tries to convince irrational me that I love him, that we have a history together, that AD is just a TV show.  But it is a TV show that for some reason won't show again.  I tried to find it at a later hour/date but nothing.  NOTHING.

Off to find a lawyer,

G

Daynal

I just realized that "jour" in French (yes, because my daughter is now learning the language) means "day". 

So I'm sitting in front of my computer again, writing on my daynal, and although I'm not quite sure what I'm going to write about I know I'll go somewhere because I just damn well feel like writing.  So I go.

Last night I had another poker game, but this time it was for the moms of my daughter's class.  As always, the game was fun, but the alcohol-infused conversations were more so.  I laughed whatever little ass I had off a few times, but especially when in a thick French accent one of the moms looked at our dealer/instructor and said "you know, Michael, I kill men".  Maybe you had to be there, but it was just too hilarious to not re-relate it.

On other news, I GOT A NEW COMPUTER.  I have finally found the perfect computer.  I love it, I'm attached to it, I want to marry it.  It is so small, the screen is almost 9" but it flips around to become a tablet.  You can write on it like a notepad, and the screen is also touch-activated, so I'm in heaven.  I literally wake up because I'm looking forward to using it.  Ahh...  spring is in the air...!  Better yet, my 1 degree of George Clooney put a photo of George and my friend on my desktop and surprised me with it.  What actually really surprised me is how awfully gross GC looks in it, but it was taken at 3 in the morning and well... I'm not perfectly beautiful all the time either, believe it or not.

Oh, and just as with every other night there is alcohol involved, I have a headache.

G