Written @ 10:28 p.m. on 2007-04-21
UNBELIEVEABLE DAY

This will be one of those totally disorganized, emoting entries. Sorry.

I was supposed to be on the river on saturday, rafting, but I lost my car keys. My car keys turned out to be some sort of top secret, stealth bomber, impossible to duplicate keys which took me contacting...AAA, a locksmith and THREE dealerships to have replaced. That was after I walked a good four miles retracing my steps to the diner, the park, and B.'s house, and completely tore apart my apartment. Then I had to find my title to prove the car was mine.

I can be disorganized. Heh. This will be funny one day. Not yet.

The weather was the first perfect, warm, sunny, flowers blooming day, and I was VERY upset to not be on the river. My ex wanted me to keep the kids this weekend,and I told him no because of my big rafting plans. I felt very very dumb.

B.-Angel, even though he was sick today, brought me around to all the dealerships. Ha! Hahahaha! They were such a bunch of incompetent assholes I couldn't do anything but helplessly laugh till the tears rolled down.

"Um, the guy who knows how to do that isn't here."

"Um, you need a code. Sorry."

"Um, we can't duplicate a key unless you already HAVE a key."

"Um, did the guy tell you it's going to be a hundred bucks? Cash?"

"Yeah. I can totally do that. But not for your model."

"Yeah, I could do that, but I don't have any of the metal forms to make keys.Sorry."

"Try the dealership in the next town over. On monday."

So, I got a key made, and got home, and it didn't work. I'm not fucking kidding. So, I went to a dealership that told me on the phone that they couldn't do it.

"Can't do it."

"Yes, you can. Here is the key code."

"Oh, I thought you were the lady I spoke to on the phone."

I kept my mouth shut. Of course I'm not the lady you told no on the phone. Make the motherfucking key. Smile. Bat eyelashes. He made the key. It worked this time.

My grandfather is not dying. He is home from the hospital, eating and talking. My father went to visit my grandfather, and fainted. He is in the hospital. They think he might have had a seizure. My friends' daughter got hit in the head with a baseball bat. She is in the pediatric icu. My sister is freaking out over some issues with friends. I got tired of the phone ringing with bad news, so I put my cellphone away and went out to enjoy the sunny day.

B. had a surprise for me. He was bouncing up and down with trying to hold it in. He took me to a park we had never been to before. He said,"Well, I might as well tell you. I'm in Fight Club with geese. See that goose running away? Yeah? He knows who the man is!" But, goose fight club was not the surprise. He was only kidding, people.

He took me into a remote, abandoned,weedy corner of the park. Behind a retaining wall, far from the public eye, was a good quarter mile of the most sophosticated graffiti art I have ever seen. I mean, professional, detailed, amazing work that just went on and on. One piece flowed into another, which piggybacked into another. When space ran out, they painted over and started anew on top. Each one was more colorful, intricate and alive than the next. It was like the vietnam memorial of graffiti art.

"This is where I used to hang out in highschool,"said B. "I used to just sketch because I never got used to spraying, but my friends did a lot of this."

It was a pretty cool surprise. Am I too old to become a tagger? Can hippies be taggers? It would be an interesting hybrid. And silly me, I didn't bring my phone and couldn't take pictures.

After this, we do a couple of errands. He surprises me at an art store and buys me some special pens we had been talking about. What a super guy. We go back to his place to relax and snooze because he has a bad cold, and then go to my house for jambalaya, fruit salad and snow peas. We planned to make a romantic evening of it.

When I got home I had 8 missed calls. All from my x. Apparently, he had driven an hour with the girls up to the rafting place and was unable to find me. He was deathly ill and throwing up and needed me to watch the children and couldn't find me and was hysterical!

Ok, I can use many colorful describing words, but at this point it was just. What. The. FUCK!!!!!!

He was sick. Instead of calling, oh, a million people other than me to watch the children and getting to a doctor, he just starts driving, thinking he'll find me somehow in the wilderness. Where I never even was.

The children are traumatized at seeing him this sick, traumatized at driving around aimlessly looking for a mother who was not to be found. FUCK FUCK FUCK! At 9:30 when he drops them off, all three of them are crying hysterically.

"Why are you crying?" I asked him.

"I'm just in so much pain," he said.

"Where is your father? Your brother? Your friends? Your wife? What is really going on? If you are in so much pain you cannot suck it up in front of our children, you need to be in the ER, and not driving a car with my children in it," I told him.

AHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Why does he take a bad situation and blow it into nuclear holocaust every single time??????

So, the girls are sobbing. I switch to mommy-mode, and sponge bathe them, sing songs, and change them for bed. I tell them that this day was a really crappy one, but the great thing is tomorrow is a new day. I remind them that sometimes they cry, too, when they are sick, but they soon feel better, and daddy will too.

B. is just kind of standing there with his mouth open. My life is a lot for anyone to take. Actually, he was putting the food away from dinner. Super guy.

Yeah. And P. found my keys.

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