It's not wrong to rest your beer mug on the book that your child is using for her book report, is it? It's sitting on the floor, next to the newest Elle magazine, with my girl crush, Kristin Stewart on the cover.
After waking up for two hours this morning with a beautiful french roast coffee a la marriage of Starbucks and Kerug, I realized that I needed to set the example for the slothiness that was lying around in the recliner watching tv. I'm complaining about her lying around, however, I've seen pictures of me on the computer that she's taken. It ain't pretty. So even though I was bluffing to myself, I said out loud, "Let's go for a hike".
I thought to myself, I don't really mean that. It's hot out. But we left the house anyway. I detoured us to a book store and saw five books that I want and have already stuck in my cart at Amazon.com. I take pictures of them while I'm in the store and then look for a better price on Amazon. Because I'm more frugal than I am impulsive. Well, when spending money I am. With experience and adventure, not as frugal as I'd like to claim.
It thunders lightly here now and again. It's so hot that simply sitting around in underwear and flimsy, light shirt is not enough. Thunder is needed, along with the rain to put the air furnace out a bit.
So we did take that hike. We were greeted by two large horses upon entering the grounds. At this point I still hadn't realized that by popping my trunk open, I wouldn't be getting it shut by normal means. It just wouldn't close. I originally opened it to park my bright orange purse in while we were walking. I ended up tying it shut with a shoelace from one of Teen-A-Ling's sneakers that was in the trunk from the last move. The shoes that were thrown off the 2nd floor onto the grass by Flip as he kicked me out angrily while I cleaned guinea pig cages.
Then I chose for us to take one of the paths we hadn't previously taken. Dun dun dunnnnnn!!!! Bad move. I chose the rebellious path, the one literally less taken. It was full of brush and if any of that was poison ivy, we will have legs like bubble wrap tomorrow. There were also so many bugs flying around that at the exact same time, we both recoiled, having bugs slam into our eyeballs and squashing them with our lids.
The path less traveled did reveal to us though, what might be a tiny village of those die-hard campers. The ones who build little huts and shelter from what the earth offers. I am impressed. I wonder who was in there. I also imagine granola people...or Charles Manson. I toggle between the two. They always look like Charles Manson in my head but don't bother stabbing folks or leading cults. They are solitary Mansons. I picture females with bandanas tied over their hair and easy smiles, acoustic guitars and cut off shorts. These people know what situations require drinking your own pee.
After sounding like an old couple (not sure which one was the old man), I finally got us to a point where we could hit the 'main road' path and head back. She was exhausted at this point and just wanted the ice cream that I told her she could have after putting in her hiking time.
I decided to finally text my dad today and tell him about all the stuff that happened with Flip and his DWI. My dad, being the Original Gangsta back in the day, texted me back to ask for an actual phone call to discuss.
Panic. I don't do phone calls very well except with those who I normally carry on this routine. But, he is taking an interest in my life and wants to listen and help....so I should jump on that chance. So many of my friends do not have their parents and I do. This should be a swift kick in the ass to me so I acknowledge my blessings.
In the end his bottom line opinion was this: He knows how to push your buttons. He's pushed your buttons. Now you have to push his - the Eject Button.
Father does not think I should be dealing with this anymore, and stresses the Easier Said Than Done part. He pointed out that it keeps going in patterns and that this is not going to change or work for me. "You're young!" he tells me.
Meanwhile, Teen-A-Ling's dad has been calling here more. He is in rehab....a sort of transitional housing. He's been sober for 90 days now. This is excellent. He was going in circles down Ruin Road and without the help of his parole officer, he'd probably be dead. I hula hooped as we chatted and he mentioned that he may have found what he wants to do. This time though, he told me that he hadn't told anyone this yet...it was like a secret....and he was gearing up to tell me about it. He sounded hesitant, as if I'd think him crazy. (As if I'd think him a *different* crazy than I already do). He said that he wants to go into substance abuse social work once he gets his GED. And I totally support that. He'd be great at it if he can keep his eye on the goal. He's a good listener, he truly seems to want to listen when his friends need to talk and he always offers solutions. He has a huge but misguided heart. And now he can take all of his experience to the other side.
I really hope he does this. I will be so proud of him.
I was going to write more....things about my mom and her love for the red tailed hawk. But I just think this post is begging to end tonight. It's tired. It's on it's third beer and Family Ties is on.
