Radiogurl a la Carte

Sunday, Jun. 27, 2004

I had to take a virtual step back, take a deep breath, and put some time in before posting this entry. Dangerspouse added a note saying, What a soap opera! with regard to my life.

If he only knew...

One thing's for sure. Never, ever ask "What else can go wrong?" Because I guarantee you, you will get an answer. And you'll not like it.

I am extremely happy that it's a new week. This past week has been the worst I've lived in a long, long time, and I have no desire to repeat it. If anyone believes in reincarnation, kindly keep your distance. I do not want to live another life, thank you very much. This one's quite enough for me.

I don't actually know what's going on with 00's employment. I'm just trying to stay out of it with as much grace as possible. I think she's still actually employed. She and Boss have been in icy deadlock all week but bottom line, we need her and she's already doing about three times the work of previous Traffic Girl. And if 00 isn't there, there's nothing to hold me at the studios, which may be a factor in Boss's considerations. Long as she's there I'm more reluctant to walk out because I don't want to mess up her income, and I suspect he has figured that out.


My grandson (00's son, age 4) had surgery Friday, a follow-up from a dog attack that happened a little over a year ago. The critter bit him in the eye and for a while it looked like he might lose his eye. Fortunately the eye survived, but his tear duct in that eye was pretty much destroyed. The surgery was to repair that. Unfortunately the doctors also think that while they tried, the surgery probably didn't work - and the alternatives aren't pretty.

At any rate, 00 borrowed my car to drive to Phoenix to be with her son (surgery was in Phoenix). They used my car because it's fairly good on gas, unlike Pipeboy's gas guzzler truck. On the way back, my car broke down. In a big way. At the very least, the head gasket's blown. At the worst... I'd rather not contemplate the worst, but for anyone out there who knows anything at all about cars, the other options are NOT good news.

Worst part is that I had the thing in to the mechanic TWO DAYS before this happened. I told him it had been smelling like antifreeze and wasn't running right. I'd been having to add water to the radiator every couple of days. That's simply not a good sign. But mechanic changed the oil and said he checked everything and it was fine.

Anyone here think he was lying through his teeth and didn't so much as twist the radiator cap?

Raises hand, teeth gritted in anger.

Now, it's not enough that the car broke down. It broke down roughly halfway between here and Phoenix. Which, if you know diddly about Arizona, you'll know is smack-dab in the middle of nowhere. The lucky part, 00 had a cell phone with her and was able to call me; plus, they left me with Pipeboy's truck so I was able to go pick them up. Downside of that? I left here about 2:30 AM to pick them up, which meant in turn another night of no sleep. This is how I end up with insomnia. I get into something resembling a normal sleep pattern and a few days later someone calls me at midnight to deal with yet another crisis.

And it's always this kind of crap, the stuff that I can't very well say Oh well you're on your own, you screwed up so you get to deal with the consequences. Unfortunately it's MY car that the consequences happen to.

However, I am determined to have a better week, by hook or by crook. It could certainly have been worse. Thank God it didn't cause an accident. No one got hurt. And because it happened at night, no one was hit with heat stroke from exposure. The car got towed back by the same mechanic who blew me off and I had better darned well not get billed for the damages, and Boss had better not say squat to me, since the mechanic is a friend of his.

And it has probably helped things overall with 00 and Pipeboy, because I didn't blame them in any way. It wasn't their fault and I knew it, even though they were scared to death I would take it out on them. Hey, I may have my bitchy moments but at least I'm fair about it. I try to blame the actual responsible party, not the ones who get the short shrift.

And since 00 and Pipeboy haven't moved yet I've been able to use Pipeboy's truck to take care of what absolutely had to be done.

This week has already started out on a better note. We were broker than broke, but 00 found $120 in an old pair of jeans while packing - and came in to hand me $40 of it, knowing I had zip until payday otherwise. It won't pay for car repairs but at least we won't starve, which was by far the bigger immediate concern after Youngest Daughter left. (As one friend succintly observed, "She came just until she ate all of your food, then left." And that would be true, sad to say.)

I managed to get the laundry done yesterday, which is always a good thing. My one true obsession - clean sheets. Gotta change 'em at least once a week or I can't stand it.

Talking tonight on IM to Dangerspouse, he suggested I write my life story. Several other people have suggested the same. I keep pointing out that it's out of the question, simply because no one would believe me. Case in point, true story:

Back in prehistoric times, when I married my now late-ex-husband, I was given a bit of his history. His former girlfriend and fiance had died in a fiery car wreck, very ugly thing. She worked for the president of a large bank in Phoenix and left behind two small children. The bank closed down for her funeral - which was closed casket because her body was so badly burned, but they identified her positively using dental charts. This happened approximatly eight or nine months before we married, give or take. (Yeah yeah, I know I married him too soon - I got railroaded in a big way but was too young to have a clue.) So a matter of maybe two weeks after we're married, now ex-late-hubby got a phone call.

From his not-quite-as-late-as-everyone-believed girlfriend.

Who was admittedly 'late' somewhere down the line because she came attached to a baby she said belonged to him.

Now you see why I refuse to write my life story? Why I can honestly say that my life is a soap opera? The ex-girlfriend pregnant and returned from the dead. Doesn't get much better than that. Not if you're writing a soap opera, anyway.

We now return you to your regularly-scheduled diary.

Before - After

In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )