*tap tap tap* Is this thing on? *tap tap tap* Ahem, testing.....
It's been a while, huh? Yeah.... about that.... Listen, sometimes a life looks one way from the outside but the reality is very different. Sometimes you wonder if you'll ever change your life or if you'll spend decades just wishing and waiting. And sometimes you walk into a divorce attorney's office and your future is sitting in the lobby. Shit tends to happen that way. At least to me.
Fast forward a year and you're living a whole new life and you're aching to write about it. So here I am again. Buckle up because this may be a different life but it's no less crazy and let's face it, crazy makes for good blogging.
The first order of business is a blog name for this man I've hitched my wagon to. Brute is a scarily accurate description for him and it's my blog so I'm going with that. It'll grow on him...
So yeah, the big D. I got one. Let's just say I am enjoying those benefits immensely.
Aidan and Asher have proven to be resilient little bastards. Despite initial rough patches, they are still grabbing life by the horns, only now they have an extra person to love and
ruin spoil them. Let me tell you, *sarcasm font* they hate that! *sarcasm font* The Brute has no kids but always wanted them. Trial by fire, my friends. Imagine starting out with Aidan and Asher. And before you start in, too, we aren't planning on having more.
Aidan has a cell phone now, thanks to the Brute. He uses said phone to call the Brute and text the Brute. I get pity calls occasionally if I pout and he happens to notice. Or the Brute tells him to, which is more likely the scenario. Jerk.
I'm pretty sure Asher nearly drove his 2nd grade teacher to utilize a noose and wobbly chair. They were frenemies at best. Mrs. 3rd Grade apparently got Sweet As Pie Asher according to the notes home. I found out this morning why he's so good for her - "She's hot", he tells me. To which I respond, "Inappropriate, Asher!" He snickered. Think he got that calling her hot is a gateway to misogyny and will lead to a life long disrespect for women, a fate I wish to spare him? Good, I thought as much.
I went back to work last year. Not with felons. Well, not current ones. Pretty sure some of them will be guests of the state one day. I was a Kindergarten para. Yeah. Laugh it up, everyone else did, too. It wasn't the most logical fit but they hired me so... I survived my first year with the little terrorists and this school year I'm a librarian at another elementary school in the district. Books. Makes a little more sense, right? I don't know, man, I'm off by 4pm every day, get snow days, summers off with pay - a not at all funny small amount of pay but pay - the job has got some sweet spots for sure. The Brute says "Do whatever you want, baby." I miss being a parole officer but I've kinda become a pampered brat that wants to go on trips and hang out all summer long. Decisions decisions....
We bought a 100 year old house this spring. And by we, I mean I chose it and the Brute signed all the papers. It's beautiful. Like the Bermuda Triangle is beautiful. We have a ghost that smokes cigarettes in the Brute's closet. No shit.
Seriously, ya'll, this house.... gorgeous, full of character, probably the gateway to Hell. The Brute especially has a love hate relationship with it because he's the one we all yell for when something breaks. And according to him, even when it should be, it's NEVER a simple fix. Changing door handles becomes a catalyst for some rather colorful and interesting twists on ordinary profanity. Anyway, there is a lot to fix but it's coming along. I see several Hell House posts in this blog's future.
So, there ya go. We're back and I'm a bigger bitch than ever. This should be fun.