I came home yesterday to a pile of receipts and some other odds and ends on the table. There is nothing like the feeling of something not making sense and trying to figure it out. Sometimes I imagine I have the spinning hourglass over my head. I turned around to face the living room and all of my electronics were gone. Well, that tears it: robbed. It’s never good timing, is it? It feels kind of extra bad right now because the house was the good thing happening, and it still is, I have to remember that. As I tried to go to sleep last night I had this feeling of wanting to go home, like I was on some kind of nightmare extended trip, but I am home. Bad things can happen in your home and you have to kind of move forward and pave over them with better things.
The good news is that the thieves were kind of morons–I guess if they weren’t they would have, like, real jobs? I assume it was kids, because most of what they took was Franny’s, including all of her pajamas, strangely. They weren’t even like super fancy jammies, either. So today for her birthday, I took her pajama shopping and got her a couple of other odds and ends since some of her other clothes were nicked. The electronics they took either needed set up software or they could be bricked remotely. Passwords were easy to change and took only a few minutes. I haven’t even finished hanging up all my pictures yet.
The receipts were on the table because my purse itself, which contained nothing valuable, had been emptied and stolen. My camera happened to be on me at work, which is nice. I haven’t been robbed since I was a kid–and then it was my parents, of course. All of my stuff is kind of old and outdated and/or easily rendered useless. I have crappy weird antiques, mostly, and a lot of books and kitchen stuff. Overall I think we were a bad score–I don’t even have a TV. But it sucks because I liked my $80 refurb laptop from dinosaur times. If they knew what they were doing, they wouldn’t have bothered even unplugging it.
The thing that people say when you are robbed is that it’s such a violation. I don’t really feel that. My house felt the same, only messier, and emptier. I feel like the real damage is that now the girls are nervous, and I worry about that. The officer who took the report was very reassuring about people not being hit twice close together–of course not, all of the things of apparent value are gone.
In other amazing news in these amazing end times, my trial has been postponed again. I sort of feel like I can’t really talk to people about this anymore. It’s like going into your twelfth year of having some obscure disease. “How’s it going, still dying?” Yes. Anyway, it’s pushed out to November, the week of FANGSGIVING. The temporary parenting plan says that we have her for that week but her stepmother told her they have her that week, so I imagine that will be another fight. I really don’t understand the confusion over a line of text that says: Thanksgiving, mother, even years. TWELVE IS STILL EVEN, RIGHT? I told SeaFed recently that he should perhaps consider sitting down with another adult and reviewing the parenting plan, like his wife, but wow do I take that back now.
My lawyer suggested I try to settle with him just for funsies, so I emailed him and told him I would pay his half of the GAL fee if he signed now, and we could avoid missed work for trial. Because I am a jolly cockface I pointed out that this would also save me the trouble of filing a lien to get the money later. This, of course, has been entered as a THREAT against him in his trial brief. His trial brief is not quite the comedic document that his divorce proceedings were (which for some reason included the FACT that only 6% of his diet is snacks) or for that matter his impassioned defense against the evil known as child support (which included a moving passage urging the commissioner to change child support guidelines right then and there in court for his case, as well as some fascinating math that ended in a calculation that his fair share was $81 a month and that the King County Office of the Prosecuting Attorney was in my pocket, hello hello mind the lint and crumbs boys), but it still has its moments.
He turned in his trial brief late and as monstrous hard copy. Once my attorney submitted hers, which was terse, easy to follow, and contained actual case law citations, he turned in another document, claiming that he had accidentally left part of his trial brief off. This document, naturally, looked a lot more like hers. My lawyer has asked the commissioner to award a portion of attorney’s fees due to intransigence and general jerkymandering, so naturally he has asked for attorney’s fees as well (N.B.: He still has no attorney). He has also asked for me to be supervised by a CASE MANAGER because I am bad, bad, super bad, and naughty. The basis for this is that I gave him a few days’ notice the weekend I moved that I would not be able to drive Franny all the way to his city that day, and he would have to make arrangements to pick her up at school. Also I should be held in CONTEMPT OF COURT because of this. Okay, his trial brief is not really fuck yeah, caplocks, but it kind of has that flavor. Or maybe some Random capitalization for Emphasis.
Unfortunately my deviation from the letter of the temporary parenting plan one time in eleven months has made him decide it’s now a good idea to begin text/email harassment three days before any drop off is supposed to happen. The good news is that this harassment prompted my lawyer to push back and point out that he was violating the parenting plan himself by not remitting her passport to me. He went away but has ignored her request.
So, as I said: endtimes. I am going to write about this, and then it will be done, and I will dénouement around a little, and then I will be happy to put this to bed.
My last word today is that this is the only time in about 8 years that I have wanted to have a TV. Dr. Horrible is airing live tonight on the CW. I will have to catch it later.
Could you do me a favor and email me your address? brigidkeely @ gmail.com
Well that sucks (being robbed and SeaFed’s further shenanigans, but he’s just acting as per usual, right?). Oddly enough we have a mutual friend who was also robbed a few days ago. Suddenly I feel paranoid about leaving the house. Suppose MIH would buy that as a sick day? “Can’t come to work, might be robbed”.
Oh Buddy, Buddy! Gol-dang, that sucks so bad. I am so sorry! I HATE being robbed. Feels SO VIOLATING. And it feels like the G-ds are taking a deuce on your airspace. Really sucks hard, cold dirty rocks and I am sorry. And on top of it S-fed still doing his usual asstastic life script. SMH! Gurl, you might need to get yourself a fuck-it bucket tonight, and then in the morning do a smudging exorcism of your space – (I don’t particularly believe in it but what the hell, it can’t hurt) – and just re-center and hold on to the crazy ride of life. Dang. Sorry M’lady!!
Wow, you handle being robbed really well. I would be freaking out like a mofo. I will take you up as my being-robbed role model although I hope I do not get robbed.
I cannot believe that guy. I CANNOT believe that guy! What the what???? It’s a bit wistful and all that for the kids to grow up but man when can you get this idjit out of your hair? Is it 18? Or is there some year before then he can go away?
He is outright crazy but I guess you know that.
Dude. No way. Is this the week for robberies or something? Another friend of ours also got robbed, and he had everything he owned stolen. DNL! My friends are not supposed to be robbed or have anything bad happen to them. Also, like Kelly said, I’m starting to get paranoid about leaving the house.
Well at least NO MOTHERFUCKERS STABBED DUDES ON YOUR FRONT STEPS OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. So there’s that. Let me know if you want to retire to a compound in Wisconsin. My in-laws have a large quantity of land there and we could build a high walled compound with razor wire and flood lights and land mines or something.
Sorry about getting robbed. As for S-Fed shenanigans, what more can I add. At some point, probably in about a million years from now, it might just be mildly amusing. But right now it’s just pathetic. It’s hard for me to believe that this level of douche-baggery is allowed in our court system in this day and age; the constant back and forth; the endless revisions of documents. It makes me sad. Chin up about Dr. Horrible. It shall live forever on the interwebs!
Snozma:
“Wow, you handle being robbed really well. I would be freaking out like a mofo. I will take you up as my being-robbed role model although I hope I do not get robbed.”
I am doing okay! I think it’s worse the first time. It took me a long time to get over my car getting broken into, seriously.
“I cannot believe that guy. I CANNOT believe that guy! What the what???? It’s a bit wistful and all that for the kids to grow up but man when can you get this idjit out of your hair? Is it 18? Or is there some year before then he can go away?”
18 is the magic year, yes. I don’t anticipate I will be discussing college funding with him. As she gets more competent/older/bigger all that good stuff I imagine she will be handling her transportation more.
“He is outright crazy but I guess you know that.”
The follies of youth, man.
Dorrie: perversely, it is mildly amusing now, especially since the big hurdle was getting permission to change the plan. That was the chain-smokey nailbitey time. Now it’s down to minor details, methinks.
Urgh, we were robbed recently. We own almost nothing that is both easily portable and valuable, so it wasn’t that big a big deal, although some things with sentimental value got taken, boo. The biggest pain in the ass about the whole thing was that we never, ever, ever used to lock our (back) door, and now we do, and I really hate getting home after a long day and walking up the back steps holding 80 million (yes, 80 MILLION) things and then having to fumble around for the key. Frankly, I think I’d rather be robbed again, horse out of the barn etc., but I’m not the only one in charge of making the decisions.
I’ll send a mental smack upside the head to both Seafed and your thief.
A. Sorry to hear about the sneaking and the taking things and the whatnot.
B. I am just going to say this outright…what a fucking douchebag SeaFed is…just…what the what?!?!?!?! (to steal the phrase) It never ceases to amaze me the levels of douchebaggery that people will go to when it comes to getting their way…even when it tosses their kids into the middle…stupid stupid douchebag.
C. I will be near Seattle for a family visit soon, want me to break his kneecaps?
Blerg. Getting older has its benefits. We can see what’s truly important. You guys are all safe and unharmed. Stuff can be replaced. But I like the idea of a good smudging!
OW — sorry to hear you were robbed. But you’re taking it well! I would not. I have nothing of value, but lots of things of sentimental value… I hope the universe does something nice for you, to compensate!
Very sorry to hear about the robbery SJ, at least if it was kids they are not likely to come back?.
I had no idea “Bricking” could be a verb that didn’t involve mortar, so I learned something at least.
The court stuff being delayed again sucks, but at least your ex is still doing his wacky best to entertain with the crazy. He isn’t one to give up early on a shows run, just because everyone know the material already, is he.
Keep smiling mate.
Hi AntMac: HA! And now I have learned a new turn of phrase from you about a show’s run.