Recharging The Batteries

You have to do something for yourself every once in a while, right?  I chose to indulge in some mild 'shopping therapy' the past several days.

-I bought a beautiful, gray-and-black striped shirt for either wearing to karaoke; New Year's Eve; or even to a signing next year.

-I also convinced the SU to let me get a sleeveless white sweater, to wear over any long-sleeved tee or even a turtleneck this winter.  And, I think it will look even better on me if I cut off the belt loops; the belt is too small for my waist, but that was the largest size they had.

-Saturday, I grabbed friend BC Brown and we went off to the VendorFest Craft Show.  Neither of us bought anything; I've set up at this particular craft show the last 2 years just to get the word out that I do indeed exist.  It was not a rewarding experience, and the organizers hiked the booth rental fee, so I chose not to participate.  And judging from those vendors I spoke with, I'm not the only one who was discouraged.  But it did have an upside:  Several vendors remembered me and asked how my books were selling.  So I passed out a few cards and introduced BC, who had brought some of her cards as well.

And then I took a wrong turn, so we 'wandered' Washington until we found our way back to the main road!

-After returning to 'civilization', we grabbed something to drink and headed over to Fantastic Sam's and indulged in a wash and style.  BC's turned out great; mine looked like Nigel from Spinal Tap.  But what the hell; it's not like I needed to  look awesome or anything!  Came home, fixed hamburgers for the family, and got sucked into watching Storage Wars all evening.

-Yesterday, I went to across the river and watched a hilarious production of The Birdcage.  I had never seen the movie, and BC was working backstage as one of the lead's dressers, so she told me the story.  I laughed from the time the curtain went up!  I'm sorry I'd forgotten my camera batteries had died; otherwise I'd have pictures of HS football players in drag.  And it was a toss-up who upstaged whom:  The 'butler/houseboy' or 'Albert'!

Now today, it's back to reality.  After suffering through a fifteen minute tirade of 'don't you dare complain about me not letting you have any money; I let you go here and here and there..' as well as complaints about how he let me have unlimited access in the past and 'how you f***ed it up', he shut up and is now letting me type in peace.  Why can't he let one tiny mistake (which happened over fifteen YEARS ago) disappear into the forgotten realm of memory?

But no; he's angry and bitter about his situation and health.  One the one hand, I wonder if my life had been better if I'd divorced him back in 1993, or if he'd died in 2005.  Now, I just want him to hang on until after he gets his disability and my books start earning me a living.

And I've got a secret:  That mistake he constantly holds over my head?  I was helping out a relative w/o his knowledge, and tried to pay off a bunch of medical bills.  If he'd kept his damn hands off the credit card, things would have worked out a lot better.  But he suffers from his family's mentality:  Someone else is always to blame.  And in this case, my signature happened to be on the rubber check.  Never mind his quick trip to KFC, Taco Bell, or even Menards or Lowes.