1. Yes, I got the job at Alexandria Mouldings. I will be their receptionist, and a "floater" for the merchandising department. It's on contract, only a couple of months - but at 12/hr and 40hrs a week. Can you say, "WOOT!", boys and girls? I knew you could.
2. Yes, Eowyn quoted an ad for the "Adult Fun Superstore" at me last night. She then asked me if I wanted to go. I said, "NO!" and hid under the blankets. Then she told me that they had the largest selection of sex toys. I still said, "NO!". She lifted up the corner and said, "They have DVD's too!". Then both kids wanted to know if I would take them to the Adult Fun Superstore when they were grown up, kinda like I said I would take them to a bar once they were eighteen. I said, "NO!". Then they wanted to know if I liked sex toys. Then Pierce started screaming, "Sex toys! Sex toys! Sex toys!". Then I had to explain, very very circumspectly, what sex toys were, so that he would stop, and swear not to do it at school - as when I tried a hearty, "Because I said so!" he ignored me. Finally I asked Eowyn where in the name of all that was holy she'd heard about this place. She said, "Duh. On the school bus. There's a radio. Every morning, someone calls in and if they answer three questions right, they get a gift certificate for 10% off at the Adult Fun Superstore. If they don't, then they say their name on the radio. Do you want to call in some day? You could get a gift certificate for 10% off."
Then I called Laure, cause I was starting to trip out pretty bad.
3. Wednesday night, post coming home and discovering my dead computer, I called Laure (and told Rick to "throw her on the phone" - which meant I got to listen to:
*phone hitting desk*
*tromp tromp tromp*
Laure: "Hey... what are you doing... HEY put me down! Stop! What are you... YEEEAGH!!!"
*sound of Laure hitting the phone*
Are they just perfect for each other, or what? If I can convince them to get married "twice", once while out here and once out there, then I'm going to dress in head to toe black, perhaps even fashion myself a veil, sit up front with a roll of cheap toilet paper and HOWL throughout the whole marriage. I will teach the kids to sing them a song in honour of their nuptials:
"DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD!"
While on the phone with Laure, being called a slut (hehehehe), the phone beeped - another call. It was John. I begged off with Laure.
Long story short, instead of staying home and mourning my computer, me and the kids all went and slept at John's. He gave them stuffed animals and they slept on couch cushions in the second bedroom. Pierce did not fall down the stairs. He fell UP them when we arrived, which takes more skill. John then proceeded to actually give me some details of his past, including the fact that he'd been in a serious and committed relationship that he'd thought was "it". There were children involved, not his, but kids. He loved them. They loved him. He'd lost them, because he and their mother broke up, and she didn't want to have to deal with him again. He'd lost their mother. At the time he'd met me, he described hismelf as being in "a very bad place". He'd been calling her several times a day.
This pisses me off - the bit about the kids. I know where the anger comes from, because I talked about it with Mom and she started growling and pointing her finger in the air and declaiming how no man can spend 3 1/2 years raising kids with a woman and NOT have a right to see them, even if they aren't the product of his own genetics. Should she ever actually meet John, he can expect a lecture about how he should take that woman to court and at least fight for the right to see the kids that were such a large part of his life. Having been raised under this attitude, this makes perfect sense to me. In Kifland, should John and I embark upon a serious relationship, and he and the kids become close, then after any breakup, he would of course have every right to see the kids and the kids would have every right to see him. You can't jam and yank people out of your kids life willy nilly. It's cruel, to everyone involved.
Either way, he then continued on to tell me that he'd been thinking about it, and that he wanted me to know that he was really enjoying my company, and appreciated it, and... and... I don't know what I'm trying to say here, he said. Don't worry, I replied. I get it. You're trying to say you LIKE me. Agh! NO! I didn't say that! Yeah, but you do. You LIKE me. HEHEHEHEHE! I told him now was not really the time to revisit our "agreement" - because I'd given myself at least a year or two for what Laure keeps screaming SLUT! about, and...
Yeah, you want to see that DJ guy again.
Nope. I told you, that was a one-time thing. You don't have to worry about him, you have to worry about Stee...
Okay! Okay! You know what, that's all cool and shit, but... I don't want to know about it. Use a condom.
So that's where we are. I am employed, computerless, a slut, and I've hired Alex to care for my kids over the summer. It's all good.