85 Minutes

June 28, 2005 at 1:57 am (Uncategorized)

Just had a conversation with Nate’s dad or rather, he did a lot of talking and I did a lot of listening. It was a strange conversation but something I have sensed coming for a while. In a nutshell he told me that he had pictures of the inside of my house, taken by one of my “friends” and he would have my friends, the friends of my friends, my ex-babysitter, and a police officer from the city I live in to testify what a horrible mother I am and that he has been amassing evidence against me for the past two years to take Nate away from me.

But he didn’t want to do that.

But he would.

But he wasn’t going to.

In one breath he told me that he knew how much I had sacrificed for Nate and in the next breath…

How I didn’t do anything for Nate and how he deserved so much better than the 8 years that I’ve given him.

In one breath he told me that he didn’t give a shit about me and if I died tomorrow that he would make sure I got a proper burial but otherwise he didn’t give a damn whether I lived or died but in the next breath…

Told me how he still loved me and how I took a huge chunk out of his heart so many years ago.

Yet he said he didn’t give a damn what I did on weekends when Nate wasn’t with me. I could fly off to New Orleans or wherever and have my boyfriend stick his dick in my ass and I could lick his ass all I wanted

He said that Nate cried when I left for New Orleans and Houston (Nate denied that) because I was so selfish not to take him with me and if I could afford to go there and here and everywhere then I could afford to buy Nate a TV for his room and have cable, because its a disgrace not to have cable….

Yet then said he was sure he didn’t pay me enough money to help with expenses….

Yet I was getting my money and by God it wasn’t to be used to fly all over the country…

And all he did four years ago was bust Nate’s ass until he put bruises on it and that was okay and he was still a better person than me because I didn’t have the balls to call him and tell him that I was going to sue him for custody but he was bigger and better because he was calling me to tell me that although he had all the evidence to take Nate, and all these people to back him up, that he loved Nate too much to take him away from his Mama.

Then he tells me how smart I am and how that’s what my fucking problem is… I’m too damn smart and therefore incapable of leading a normal everyday life. My mind could see deep into matters that others never thought of and he akinned it to Aqualung, the local brilliant homeless guy. Too smart for my own damn good.

I’ll be the first to admit peeps, as I have before, that my house could use a good scrubbing and yes, I’m ashamed of it right now. Right now, the outside looks good… the inside looks like hell. And yes, I fully intend on doing something about it and not because of the 85 minutes I spent on the phone. I’ll do it for me and Nate, as I do all things.

I held steady on the phone but admittedly I cried when I hung up. I cried because I haven’t done better in the past and I cried, frankly, because I know someone close to me has betrayed my trust and confidence. That person is T-Bird. As I said, I’ve felt this coming on. I’ve felt the eyes upon me. Seems funny that my neighbors can have a jungle in their backyard yet I’m the one who gets called in to the city. Seems funny that my neighbors can have 10 cats running around their yard but one of mine does something wrong and the humane officer is sent out. Seems funny their garbage can pile up on their back deck until the back door isn’t visible but I leave a couple bags for longer than a week and I’m being called in on .

It didn’t take much to put two and two together… why? Because T-Bird is in big with the local PD and makes it a point, of course, to point that out every chance she gets. She’s also only one of two people besides myself who has had access to my house in the past year. I know Hagar and his wife aren’t going to come in my house and take pictures but you can better believe that if I EVER prove that T-Bird has ANY part in this… oh Gawd, ya’ll will see me on the Weekly World News.

That’s the part that really, really sucks. Unless Jeff spills the beans on who it is, I’m stuck not knowing. I don’t doubt him because he sounded kinda messed up when he called and he knows WAY TOO MUCH about things I’ve never mentioned much less discussed with him.

Peeps, I leave other people alone. Yeah, I may try to irritate my neighbors but I don’t do it to hurt them. I mind my own business and I expect others to mind theirs. I don’t do things purposefully to hurt other people and now this fucked up individual has spilled the beans on all of them. I’d like to believe that he’s just blowing smoke and the person who professes to be my best friend in the world wouldn’t betray me like that. If she had a problem with something I’m doing that she would come to me with it. But deep down… I know he’s not blowing smoke. The jealousy and silence over il mio amore should have been a dead giveaway for me to watch my back.

And my friends… it was told to me long ago by a psychic that not only do I have a multitude of spirits around me but they will take care of me and mine. If any dirty work needs to be done, they will do it. I don’t have to ask. I don’t have to request. I don’t have to conjure or do spells or think special thoughts. They see my need and they act. The last time they stepped in Jeff was arrested, lost his job, was in and out of mental facilities, and addicted to drugs. It would certainly be a shame for shit like that to start happening to other people…

So much for my post about Viggo Mortensen. Guess it can wait. In the meantime, I’ll be cleaning as I had already planned to do, and writing as I had planned and working and taking care of Nate, just like I had planned, and my spirits, well, they’ll be taking care of the rest.

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