Hope Radio

Just came from a life celebration for a Galveston young man who was shot to death a couple of weeks ago. He was a good, kind young man full of promise killed by some bottom feeders, who have no idea what they have done. I hope they get to find out. If that sounds vindictive. Good. I was going for vindictive.

Yup. I interviewed today. I don't know how I did, but I answered from the cuff and I didn't care, if I made it past district or not. Four years ago I was on a growth plan at another school. The big bowl of suck stew was even steamoer because I had gone from being thought of as this great teacher to an insecure, blithering, nose bleeder with no boundaries. My fuck you was totally broke. What I know now is that it was a person's opinion of me. They made it hard to do my job. They put me down, bullied, even sabotaged. I did not have the resources I needed to meet their expectations. A terrible time yoked with my divorce, hateful, vindictive in laws and a new relationship had me looking for rock real estate cause i was crawlin'. My beautiful four kids and their well being as well as wondering if I was setting them up for psychological care took up the forefront. What I learned was that, opinions can be important, but more important is what YOU think, especially when the ...

I like parking lots. They are my snowglobes, only inside out.The outside world, all fluidity and movement and inside the car bubble, stillness and a kind of calm that comes from NOT being shaken up for effect, instead effect coming from not being. I could use more not being even if my not includes the occasional window splat from a seagull.

I started working out again today. Our jobs, the kids, our life on the island--it's been a busy few years and things have leveled off in some ways, but at the same time, I got fat. Not obese, but unhealthy. I'd say 35 or 45 pounds have got to go. I walked on the track and stretched. I'm not going the Crossfit way this time. It gave me a great body, but I'm 50 in January. I think if I tried it this go round, it would give me a hip replacement. I'm a still a slow learner, but maybe a little less slow than before.

Knight and I got married on a beach one July evening in 2013. I'm alternately stepmom stepmonster (depending on who you ask) to two. One of my sons has just joined the Marine Corps.  My other minion are growing up remarkably well considering the last two and a half years. I still deal with a very angry ex and myvery ugly ex relatives, which is good since I get to use the prefix "EX". It's amazing how stuck some people can get. I found a less frustrating faculty position. Most importantly, I've found a rhythm of sorts. Oh I'm still logrolling this whole thing. But it's ok. I'm a much better swimmer now from falling in so much. .

On Friday, I was informed after the kids had been with their Dad for an hour or so that they were at a new address. A permanent one. It seems my ex-husband has a brand new home in a brand new neighborhood. This certified letter notice from him showed up in our mailbox the following day. This does not bode well. I predict it will have something to do with the money he says I owe him for bills on the old house. Which I do. Bills he wanted me to pay when I no longer had access to the house. Which I didn't. The house he thought he should put new locks on while I was still moving. which he did. and the house, without my name on the title. It got left off  without my knowledge all those years ago. Which he did know about. I told Stoic we were moving when we had begun our move. I also told him that it would take some time because I was working and couldn't take off. He wasn't driving, yet and the  house wasn't due him until July. I didn't feel compel...

Like my creative title?  Yeah well, deal. That's as much brain power as I plan on allocating. I think that is my problem. I am poorly skilled at brain power allocation. I give what needs more not enough, and what I can't control, way too much. ok. I take full responsibility. My thoughts are scattered. I'm parked at my neighborhood beach bar watching people making asses of themselves, oh but in a fun way. Knight is at home sleeping and getting mentally suited up for work and his soon to be ex-wife's well manipulated counseling session. Can you say lamb to slaughter? We went on a walk on the seawall where we had a stilted conversation about how BSC (that's what I call her. A prize to whoever gets the acronym.)is gearing up to assume the role of proctologist where his divorce maneuverings are concerned. He hates when I predict what is about to happen. I know he does, because I used to hate it when people less myopic told me as I finished my divorce. I'm torn ...