Thursday, July 26, 2012

Mood swing

So Sunday was a great day, and yesterday totally sucked. I'm being a little dramatic--it could have been a million times worse.  Like nobody died or anything; I was just in a piss-poor mood that even a half a bottle of wine while watching Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story couldn't shake.

In case you couldn't tell from my Why don't kids today leave the goddamn house? post, being out of work while the kids are off from school is definitely fraying my nerves.  And my tolerance for friggin' Black Ops is at an all-time low after the tragedy in Colorado last week.  For a thoughtful commentary that's much better than what I could ever put into words, I'm going to send you to author Nathan Bransford's post on Violence in American Culture, in which he reports the rise of very violent young adult literature.  Gee, what a shock.

I hate violence.  Ironic, I know, since at any given moment I'm ready to kill somebody. Whatever.  I don't find violence entertaining, and I sure as hell don't think it's appropriate for a 7-year-old to be cutting her grown-up teeth on Black Ops.  It makes me sick.  What equally makes me sick is that the man I love seems to think there's nothing wrong with this picture.  Yes, I understand that one of the frustrations of step-parenting is having to witness a polar opposite parenting style.  Got it.  I'm just sick of that shit from morning till night.

So yesterday morning Mike had to take the kids to a dental appointment, which meant I'd have the house to myself for a while, which I really needed considering my fragile state.  When they left, I was lounging poolside with my coffee, breakfast--three pieces of bacon on a plate--and Time and Entertainment magazines.  Glorious!  Then when I'd had enough sun, I picked up my crap and... was locked out of the house.  AGAIN!  This was the third time that Mike locked the door behind him when I was outside. 

Unfortunately, by that time I had nothing left to drink and my iPhone was sitting inside on the kitchen counter.  I called to the one woman who was biking on the path behind our house, and she didn't have her cell phone.  No one else was on the path for at least a half hour.

I decided I'd scale the wall with a locked (of course) iron gate to the front of the house and see if maybe he accidentally left one of the front doors open.  I pulled a chair over and was able to climb on top of the gate, but looking down at the length of the jump before me, I felt it was a little too risky.  I was already making up brand new swear words; if I'd sprained or broken one or both ankles, I would have been a mental patient. So using my body strength, I climbed off the gate, thankful for all the yoga I've been doing lately, and then carefully dropped a cooler to the other side, hoping I'd be able to land on that.

Again, I climb up to the top of the gate and with a deep breath jumped a couple of feet to the cooler. I should mention how thankful I was that 1) I wasn't in bare feet, and 2) I had a little sundress over my bathing suit.  The situation would have been much worse otherwise.

Okay, so now I'm in front of the house and try both the front and side doors.  Locked, as they should be.  I see a neighbor, whom I've never met, a few houses away get into his truck and head my way.   I flag him down and ask if I can use his cell phone. I'm filthy, sweaty, fucking pissed, and ready to cry.  Lovely introduction.

I call Mike and tell him I'm locked out again and don't take an hour and a half to get home like last time.  My neighbor was nice as hell and even went back in his house to get me a bottle of water while I waited for my beloved.  He mentioned that his wife goes to yoga classes and I wondered if I might have seen her, not knowing she's my neighbor.  Vegas is like that--you can live in a house for a year and not know your neighbors.  Kind of sad.

Anyway, Mike and the kids got home and I was in total "Nobody-say-a-word-to-me-I-can't-handle-it" mode.  I showered, put on a cute little dress and planted myself in the nearest Race and Sports book, where I played some exactas in the last four races at Saratoga.  My new, manly readers are probably surprised to hear that I frequent a sports book--it's true, but only during the Saratoga meet.  I do some writing between races and make friends with the old guys.

Of course, none of my horses came in, and there wasn't a cocktail waitress in sight.  Fortunately, I got a text from a reader who's also a stepmother and she, too, was in FML mode, so we had fun with some good old back-and-forth bitching via SMS.  Bad moods are so much better when you have someone to share them with. After the races, I got lunch in the casino, which was a scoop of gelato.

I still wasn't ready to go home, so I went to the movies and saw Bernie with Jack Black and Shirley MacLaine. Jack Black gave a very impressive performance, but the movie was only so-so. Thankfully, there were were only three of us in the theater, so I didn't have to put up with anyone talking or breathing too loud--one of my many pet peeves.

 On the way home, I stopped at Starbucks for dessert--iced tea and banana walnut bread.  By the time I pulled in our driveway, I was almost human again. But as a precaution, I sequestered myself in the master suite for the rest of the night with Mr. Cox, thinking, "Yes, Scarlett, tomorrow is another day."  Hopefully I'll eat better, too.


Mimi said...

God, that was a long day!
Funny, I was wondering if you had abandoned that low-carb regime, till I saw your last sentence!

Don't know if this is any help, but my kids went through a phase of that hanging round the house thing. Now they're coming and going all the time.
Sadly, childhood seems to have changed, particularly in urban areas. I love to see kids out playing football, riding bikes etc, but just had to accept that wasn't happening. Having said that, mine didn't play much of those games, so at least I was grateful for that.
Hang in there Linda, it won't be long now till you're heading off!

~Coach said...

Surprised you didn't grab your favorite beer - WOW... Heads up, it's gonna get worse, because I'm hitting town in a few days... ;)

Julie D said...

OK first things first. Put a frickin key outside somewhere near the pool. This is ridiculous that he can't look OUT THE WINDOW and see you laying there, or God forbid open the door and say goodbye to you as he's leaving, thus preventing him from LOCKING IT BEHIND HIM.

OK I'm getting mad for you. LOL

So get a key out there. Get a fake rock to put it in. Whatever.

Second....I feel your pain (via Elizabeth) on the stepkids thing. This is exactly why I am with a man who has no children. Hell when I was single I wouldn't even date someone with 'em, because I knew I'd raised mine and had ZERO interest in being obligated to someone else's.

Third and most important, when in the hell did you start drinking wine??????????????? Is it beer flavored??????????????

Vegas Linda Lou said...

@ Mimi: Oh, the carbs--not a good day for that. But this morning I was down a pound and a half. Probably burning anger calories!

@ Coach: I know! Just the fact that I was drinking wine should let you know that all was not well. I only drink that in an emergency. And now you're coming to town? Let me know if you have time to meet up--a good excuse to get out of the house!

@ Julie: He came out to say good-bye to me and then locked the door behind him! It's subconscious (I think--ha!). Either that or terribly passive-aggressive. He did hide a key for me, though. And even told me where it was.

lightning36 said...

I thought you said you weren't high maintenance ... : o P

Of course, I am making sure this comment is being made from over 1700 miles away.

Sounds like the weekend HAS to be better, so at least you've got that going for you, which is nice ...

Vegas Linda Lou said...

It's a good thing you're not within reach, my friend!

The weekend is what I'm gonna make it...