I received a phone call today from someone inquiring as to how I was. I know that my friends know how I am via other internet sources as well as the telephone. So if you are a friend of mine - please don't take this the wrong way. It is not directed at you guys.

I am assuming that the phone call came as a result of someone reading my livejournal or someone talked to someone who talked to someone, yadda, yadda, yadda.....How I am and whether or not I have had to have surgery on my back is on a need to know basis - and as far as I'm concerned, the person that called doesn't need to know. I am responsible for myself and my daughter, not for providing (you) with more fodder for gossip and your oh-so-righteous advice.

I am asking you as nicely as I can muster one last time - please go away. And stay away.  Thank you.

Finally have  diagnosis here. Nothing new really - except that the pain has a name and I know why and what is causing the nonsense. Back in 1987, I ruptured a disc in a lower back - between L4 and L5 - translated - between Lumbar vertabrae 4 and 5. After dealing with my uncooperative mother for months, who thought my issues with pain and not being able to bend over without screaming were just laziness, I finally secured a visit to see an orthopedist who x-rayed me couldn't find anything wrong except for the fact that I am an inch shorter on the right side than on the left - all caused by the muscle spasms related to the stroke. He advised heel lifts and 1600 mg of ibuprophen daily for the rest of my life. I was 21 at the time. It did virtually nothing so when my toes went numb on my left foot - I kicked and screamed my way back into see my regular doctor and insisted on seeing the neurosurgeon who had seen me at the time of the stroke. He hadn't seen me for years - but I insisted. Within 2 weeks I was being operated on for a badly ruptured disc. He told my father that it was so badly ruptured it was a wonder I could even walk. At the time I'd like to have taken the surgical instruments and shoved them squarely up my mother's ass.

Sadly it seems that the disc that was ground down shoved back in place all those years ago has now calcified. It's part of the normal ageing process from what I've been told (arthritis) - however, because of where it is - it is creating issues and not helping the spinal stenosis that I have apparently developed as well. The stenosis is also between L4 and L5 and is basically choking off my spinal cord. In layman's terms - stenosis is a narrowing of the spaces in the spinal canal, resulting in compression of the spinal cord - this is all due to the disc degeneration.

Happy happy joy joy. So I have another appoinment to see a surgeon next Thursday, after seeing one yesterday. They've up-ed the steroids, but I really think that surgery is iminent. And if it will fix the problem permanently? Let's go for it shall we?

Just kidding. But let it not be said that I am not my father's daughter. Right down to my back. I have been having trouble with my back and right leg since May 30. It has gradually gotten worse over the past week to where I literally could not walk yesterday. Naturally Amber had to go to school and rather nastily informed of this (she is a special transfer and I must transport her - there is no bus service) so I  dropped her and went immediately to the doctor's office. They caught me at the front door in a wheelchair. I saw the doctor who informed me that they would be calling for an ambulance to take me to NW. By the time I got there, I was screaming - that's how bad it was. It literatlly felt like someone had pushed a knife through my right thigh and twisted it. That and the pain coming down my right butt cheek was achingly familiar. Can you say surgery in 1987 to repair a ruptured disc from the way I walk? I honestly thought that is what was wrong again. No so. After talking to at least 5 of my doctors - the ER doc on call - finally ordered a CT and low and behold - I have lower back disease. Translated? Stenosis of the spine. In layman's term? The holes that the nerves come out of in the spinal column become smaller and smaller, eventually choking off the nerves. So after MUCH morphine, adavan, and finally.........a IV steroid - the pain FINALLY reduced itself to a dull roar and viola! I was sent home around midnight. With more drugs. Ugh.

I have a appointment to see an orthopedic surgeon tomorrow - this will definitely require surgery at some point. Funny thing is - the name I was given is the same doc that operated on dad for the same damn thing a few years before he passed. Dad came out of that surgery just fine so I have good expectations if and when he does operate.

All I can say is thank you to the folks I work with and Amber's godmother and her housemate. As I was being transported  - I left my house keys with the doctor - called work - a co-worker came and got them - my boss picked Amber up after school, took her home - I had called her godmother who picked her up from there. This morning I called and told the boss what was going on -he and another co-worked came to my house - picked up my car keys, took my perscriptions to the pharmacy, went and got my car came back with it, picked up my prescriptions (and a box of cat litter) and told me pointedly not to drive because of the morphine that I'm on. In addition to Valium, and Pregnisone to reduce swelling of the nerves in my back. I called Amber's godmother who had her housemate bring Amber home.

I owe everyone so much beer it isn't even funny. Including the doc at the ER. He was wonderful. The best damn ER doc I have had in a good long while.

I know half of you reading this don't know who these guys are, and the other half are going "ewwwww hair bands!!!! Yuck!!!" but hey, they were my thing in high school and college - along with the heavier stuff like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Scorpions, Accept, and Metallica. Our local radio station, which has been around playing album rock for 30+ years, sponsored a music festival yesterday featuring some of the big name hair bands from the 80's and 90's. Y & T, Slaughter, Jani Lane (from Warrant), Dokken, Kix, Extreme, Ratt, Keel, Bullet Boys, LA Guns, and Twisted Sister. Steel Panther (snark) was there, along with Slamm, XYZ (think: The Whiskey) and Jetboy. I think the only ones missing were Poison, Cinderella, Black N'Blue, Winger, Firehouse, White Lion, Steelheart and the Vinnie Vincent Invasion.

I took Amber with me and I think she actually had a good time. At least she indicated that she did. It's a bit hard to tell nowdays - she's a teenager. I am happy to report that these guys still have the chops. They sang and played their asses off and it was a blast to see these bands - most of which I've seen before - on the stage again. Don Dokken is still a complete smartass and his favorite word is still the f-bomb. Steven Whiteman from Kix is still a crazy m-f-er and still the consumate showman. Ballons, beachballs, umbrellas abounded during their set and I almost felt sorry for Extreme having to follow them - but hey - this is B-more and they are the local boys. If they do't play - there is usually a damn riot. I've seen them play at Hammerjacks too many times to count. A friend of mine from college went to high school with them - so, oh yeah..... nuff said. Y & T played an excellent set - Dave Meneketti was outstanding and came out to meet the crowd after they had finished. Don Dokken played with Y & T's bass player. Dunno what that was about but he sounded outstanding so who gives a crap. Jani Lane sang his ass off as well, as did Mark Slaughter, who can still hit all those high notes.

I'm half deaf from the noise - we were, after all down front right by the amps, and standing as long as I did about killed my right leg - I did finally have to sit, but it was worth it as far as I'm concerned.

The one thing that I did notice was that despite 25 years, some people apparently don't mature at all and thus we had the obligatory fight in the crowd up on the festival lawn.  Amber and I spend a good deal of time down front on the floor so we didn't catch some of the nonsense. What she did notice which is very painful to me is the number of drunks present. She got pushed out of the way on the floor by a female carrying wine with a TINY child with her who finally acknowledged Amber with a  "Can you see hun?" Amber's response? "Well no. Not now." She pushed into me and when I indicated my crutch, she backed off. I'd like to have shoved it up her ass - but as her sole goal was to get Mark Slaughter's attention,  I figured it wasn't worth it. The bleach had apparently permeated her brain - poor dear.

We left before Twisted Sister took the stage - not just because they're not my thing, but because of the drunks that are unfortunately omnipresent at events like this, I didn't want to have to fight my way out of the park lot with all of them, nor be on the road for any length of time with them.

Judas Priest will be at this venue in August, along with Whitesnake. Guess who will beg, borrow and steal to get tickets? Besides.... Amber wants to go.

if the "Service Engine" light didn't pop on while driving today. I just got the truck back. I laid out "1658.24 to be exact. One would think that they would have gotten it right. They had the damned thing long enough. Am pissed and now have to take it back tomorrow so they can hook it up to their teeny-tiny computer again and determine what is wrong with it. Probably just an emissions problem. Ugh.

Ah the river downtown. It's finally subsided thanks to some very diligent sewer workers. I see dry land. I know - I'll call it........Lombard Street.  I was on Lombard Street Monday night. Not because I wanted to be but because that's where my damn truck decided to finally give up the ghost.  The road opened up thanks to a water main break - and it became rather like that pote-hole that ate downtown. A few hours later and the blazer would have floated away I think. My radiator blew just as I entered the harbor tunnel. When it happened I had no idea what was going on - however the loud bang and the distinct smell of antifreeze kind of clued me in that either my water pump had died or my radiator had blown. As I drove I watched my temperature gauge slowly rise and somehow (a miracle) I nursed the thing out of the tunnel and up a ramp onto Lombard Street and then dove for the nearest empty lot. Bear was with me (thank god) and all 6'4" of him jumped out of my truck and climbed UNDER the thing attempting to diagnose the problem. His diagnosis? Don't drive the thing. Yeah - no kidding. It was smoking. So I called for a tow truck. A hour. Fine. Not the best neighborhood. But hey.....I had a 6'4" bouncer/construction worker with me. Not that he was scared - I don't think anything scares Bear.....but I was a little creeped out. So he just held me and encouraged me to keep calling the tow guys AND arrange for a rental. Good thing. What happened? The engine fan shroud broke at the bottom - snapping one of the fan blades and when I accelerated pulling away from the toll plaza,  it got jammed in my radiator, poking a hole in it. The fan then threw antifreeze all over the engine. To fix? close to $1600.00. That and it needs a tune-up and an oil change. Hey and kick the tires and rotate 'em for me. Oy. Ugh. But hey - at least it didn't float away. I sat on Lombard Street mere hours before the water main broke. $150.00 to tow the thing - $122 for my rental which is a teeny-tiny Nissan that I hate and that I have to pull myself out of - a bit like climbing out of a bathtub.  I want my truck back damnit. Soon.

Yo ho ho.....and really bad eggs....or however that goes. The 5th annual Privateer Weekend was held Friday night and yesterday in Fells Point, downtown Baltimore. A drunken merry time was had by all. The pub crawl began at One Eyed Mikes and thence to Dudas, The Horse You Came In On (of Edgar All Poe fame) and where ever after that. I dunno. I left and came home. My asthma was acting up (stupid me forgot my emergency inhaler) and my right side was pretty much done in by 8:00, considering I'd been walking around all afternoon.  They had a really nice set up this year - with living history - GREAT living history - not just pirates but seafaring history, demonstrating naval weapons, food, games and such. The redcoats were there - Baltimoretown, particularly the Fells Point area was considered by the British to be a "den of iniquity" because of all the privateers that went in and out during the War of 1812. There was also a group of Spanish soldiers there - the group was from Puerto Rico and based on the weapons they kept firing off the end of the Bond Street Warf - I thought they might just accidentally scuttle a Water Taxi. In either case, everyone was dressed all "pyratical" for the occasion - even moi. Captain Jack Sparrow aka Steve Huff from the Historical Maritime Combat Association came out  to play, The Brigands were in attendance, The Vigilant Crew - all was good and a little crazy downtown yesterday.

The Fearless - courtesy of The Urban Pirates  - was docked at the Broadway Pier as was the Lady Maryland - a replica "pungy" schooner which is part of the Living Classrooms Foundation, and the Pride of Baltimore - a topsail schooner, known in these parts as a Baltimore Clipper - so tall ships were in abundance and were cruising through the harbor. There was a siege battle on the water which involved two ships - one, flying British colors - the other, smaller vessel was of course the pirate ship which really sailed circles around the other. Was a lot of fun to watch.


The sea battle. I actually own a spy-glass. It was my great great-uncles (he was born in 1892 and enlisted in the merchant marines as a teenager) - in either case - this beautiful piece belong ed to him and was British made before the turn of the century - I have no idea how much it's worth - except a lot - but it really works - so I stood on the end of the pier and showed two little boys how to look through it and adjust the focus. It was fun to look out and be able to see the activity on the deck as the guys ran around firing cannon and adjusting sails.
 
Yeah....um....not a whole lot scares me. That's Houdini with me - he's a 7 foot red-tailed Columbian boa-constrictor. Totally freaked out most of the people around when his owner draped him around my shoulders. Except for the little kid sitting on the bench next to me - he didn't seem fazed at all. Houdini just kind of "hung out" while we stood there and chatted. He got his name because apparently he's a bit of an escape artist.

Yeah, well. What can I say? Totally goofing around in this picture. My savior of the day is standing behind me. "Bear" is 6'4" and when my leg finally crapped out on me he walked me to the pub, through the pub, up and down stairs and when I got up to finally leave to go to my truck - he got up and announced "I'll be back - I'm walking this lady to her truck." And we did the same thing again, only in reverse. Bless you Bear - you are an angel.

I love this park. Something draws me there all the time and I just go. I used to be able to walk around it a lot better than I can now - but I still go. Apparently so did my great-grandparents.




Ella DuVall (left - front seated) and Christopher Miller (right - front seated) - I don't know if they were married at the time or not - they married in 1897. In either case - the photo was taken in Devil's Den just 30 years after the battle by a Gettysburg photographer. They are positioned just a little to the left of where Amber is standing in the photo in my last post. Ella was born in 1876 and Chris in 1872 - Ella had uncles that fought. Her father would have been too young - however, his brothers weren't. James Edward Duvall enlisted in the 1st Maryland Cavalry - CSA in April 1862 and was mustered into Company E in November. By 1863 he was in charge of disabled horses and by 1864 he had deserted his unit at Harrisonburg VA, and turned himself over to the provost marshall in Bladensburg, MD. Sent from the Old Capital Prison to Elmira - he was released in February 1865 by order of the Secretary of War and ordered not to go south of Philadelphia, PA. He never did again, and per census records - he died in Philadelphia. The rest of the family remained in Baltimore. He would have fought at Gettysburg.

I finally got around to clearing the card on my camera and realized that I still had pictures from Gettysburg that I took about 2 weeks ago. Amber has decided that she would like to learn to take pictures - really take pictures. She took gorgeous ones when we were in Glasgow and liked using her digital camera - unfortunately somehow it got destroyed when she stayed with her dad and seeing as how it was a gift and a $300 camera - mom can't replace it any time soon. What I do have is Cannon AE-1 - my old camera that I uses to use to shoot black and whites with when I was in high school and college. I also used it to shoot plays while I was at TSU. High speed film and you capture all the lighting effects with out a flash. Great stuff. Anyway, I dug it out and showed Amber how to use it - loaded it with basic 400 speed film and away to Gettysburg we went. She wanted to take pictures of the battlefield again - like she had last summer. Talk about wear mom out. I invited another friend along who loves the park - I don't think I could have handled all the energy without Judy there to rein in the youthful enthusiasm. I took my camera long as well to see what I could do. I have to get Amber's film developed - here are a few of mine.

Amber being silly at the base of Devil's Den. I pointed my camera up and discovered she was about to take a picture of me - so I re-aimed. Ha!

An old busted-up fence at the triangular field just before "the loop"

The National Cemetery - shot from the Maryland Monument

The Maryland Monument. I love this. I depicts two soldiers - both wounded - helping each other from the battlefield. Both Maryland soldiers - one is a Union soldier and the other is a Confederate soldier. Maryland sent boys from both sides. Hence the reason our Nation Guard Unit - the 29th is called "the blue and the gray".

Detail from the monument - pay close attention to the belt buckles.

Shot from the top of Little Round Top

Round Top - shot from below in the area approaching Devil's Den - which  is just a bit further to the right of this picture

Shot with my zoom from Devil's Den

Another taken in the area between Little Round Top and Devil's Den

For all the men in my family who fought for Virginia.

I love this monument. I had nobody in my family in any of the Irish units - north or south, but I love the Wolfhound at the base of this one. He represents loyalty - patiently guarding the Irish Monument waiting for the return of his master.

Another shot of the whole monument.

Sunset at Devil's Den. Yes we stayed WAY longer than we should have but Amber and I both wanted to take some sunset pictures.

As we left, we watch the sun set the sky on fire and finally Amber blurted out - "Are ya going to stop the truck or what?" So I wound up backward in some strangers driveway and she took off across the field to snap away. I figured it couldn't hurt to take a few of my own. This is what I got.

Hm....found some screen caps from a television tidbit set in the 18th century. Decided to do something with them because I've decided I love this guy in britches and boots. Ya'll can argue over who it is. I ain't telling although it's probably pretty obvious.

Gerard Butler said the word 'pussy.'   Good god. They have a 8 page thread going about it over at ye ole website and I really had to step away. Not that there is anything to moderate but seriously if these women get into a fight OVER ONE WORD? Insert 'duh' emotie here. Some are shock, some are appalled and to some it's no big deal. I couldn't care less what rolls out of his mouth - he drops the f-bomb on a regular basis and while my daughter picked up on his favorite phrase many moon ago and I swore he'd eat a bar of soap the next time I saw him - however, to me it's no big dealie. Again, I don't care about what rolls out of his mouth - he's not related to me and besides,  he probably knows when to cuss and when not to cuss. He's male - he's British. Big deal. Why the 8 page discussion that I had to weed through? No clue. They're still going at it and I really just had to blow in - be a smartass and leave. Not going back tonight. One even suggested that his manager or his mother get on him about his language. Yeah right. Doubt that'll happen. If they do start a fight? A friend of mine will very politely inform them that they're getting pissy over pussy. That didn't sound right. 

Oh..........TMZ done did it. Or rather, they tried to anyway. They caught my fantasy man strolling in L.A. the other day and very pointedly asked him about T4. My fantasy man being Michael Biehn and T4 - Terminator Salvation. I guess with the whole John Connor/Kyle Reese thing - they couldn't resist asking him what he thought about Christian Bale's meltdown at the DP on the set a few months ago. Gracious and VERY polite, Biehn even ended a cell phone conversation he was having to talk to the ding-a-ling holding the camera. He apparently wasn't too pleased with Bale's ranting and raving and admitted to getting upset on sets before himself - but said that he's never experienced anything to that degree and never had anything upset him to that degree. He did say something though which made me very proud to have been a part of the theater and movie industry when I was - he said that it's really a collaborative effort, which of course means that he's not one of those egotistical stars who thinks that he's only one who can carry the movie. That's refreshing coming from a 30+ year veteran of the movie industry  - but then again, unlike Bale, Biehn began his training in the theater  - so he appreciates the makeup crew, prop people, set designers, lighting  crew, wardrobe crew, and costume designers, etc. Without them - things wouldn't look as good.  Of course he did state with a big gorgeous grin on his adorable face that quote - "He wouldn't talk to me like that."  Father to son? One can only hope.

Dunno what the obviously volatile Bale will respond with - if he does at all - but given the outburst? All I will say is this - and I know some folks don't agree with me - however, Bale had every right to be upset - angry even, but to keep it going the way he kept it going and using the language he did? (Seriously - I though I could cuss.....) There really was no call for that. He made his point and it should have been either dropped or he should have taken it up with the production people in a meeting or some such at a later point in time - he did have a legitimate complaint with the guy.  I have listened to the rant and read several "insider" reports on what happened - and I'm sure he is sorry, because he still wants to work. But to scream and yell like a loon and hold up production for 4-5 minutes? Not cool. Time is money on a movie set. Especially a big production like T4.

I know people that behave like that - they do it to belittle and attempt to humiliate and it usually backfires in their face.  MB very gracefully sidestepped the question and chose not to speculate as to why Bale behaved the way he did - but I will say this having worked in theater and movies. Actors that behave like jackasses with people on the set? Earn themselves reputations and eventually they become persona non-grata - because no one wants to deal with them or their egos. Just because someone is a talented actor does not mean that shitty behavior is automatically excused - if they think it does - then they have some very serious issues. Bottom line - nobody likes working with jerks and you don't shit where you eat. If you do?  You won't be.

Some more food for thought from another premiere actor that I love - Gary Oldman.
"Any actor who tells you that they have become the people they play, unless they're clearly diagnosed as a schizophrenic, is bullshitting you."

http://www.tmz.com/videos?autoplay=true&mediaKey=7a7f2d31-0f2e-431f-8b5c-df2ffba7ba4b

Meh. Home sick AGAIN. This time it bit both of us at once. The flu. Am feeling a bit better today - worshiping the porcelain goddess for most of yesterday and called the doc - they saw me today. Because I'm still not breathing to their satisfaction - they stuck me on inhalers again, after a neb treatment, which of course just made me even more nauseated than I already was. So have a bevy of prescriptions to pick up - AGAIN. Came home and died. Amber's got the same thing - coming out both ends. Kids are way more resilient when they're sick and she's been sitting in her bedroom - picking at her guitar for most of the evening. We're both hungry but are terrified to eat anything.

I found dad's dog-tag digging through more stuff last weekend and debated what to do with it - so I put it on one of my silver chains and gave it to her. She hasn't taken the thing off. If it makes her feel close to him  and makes her smile when she sees it then so be it. 

Oh boy. I have a 13 year old. Who has decided that she like the "younger" version of Michael Biehn. Gerry Butler and Zac Efron can kiss her padonkadonk right now. She doesn't even talk about the Jonas Brothers all that much anymore. She likes Edward Cullin from Twilight but, then again so does every other 13 year old girl, so I ain't all that worried about that. She had a "male friend" that she was hanging out with a bit - until he got "too clingy" as she put it - and in all honesty I have to be proud of her for backing away because she told that he was starting to discuss "the future" and she was like - "What damn future? I'm 13. Hello? School? I'm not marrying you." And with that the "male friend" got kicked to the curb.  He's a bit annoyed with her but they remain friends - which is how it should be right now. They're in middle school. In a conversation with her godmother - we were all laughing and naming our fantasy 5 - that is the 5 actors that we find shagworthy. Well - Amber didn't know that part - to her it was simply 5 actors that we found attractive. Yeah. That's the word. Shag....no .....attractive. So she has 5. I have 5. Godmother has 5. Although if it came down to it we'd really get in fight cause Hugh Jackman AND Daniel Craig are on both our lists.  But I digress.

Anyhoo.....trolling the internet, she came across this picture on the left.
   
Granted he's a BABY in the piccy on the left. Early 20's easily. I prefer the look on the right - however, it not that she likes him that bothered me. She said, and I quote - I wanna duck tape him to the bed and slap him around a bit.

Oh boy. Do I have a problem.

Suggestions? Padlocks? Chastity Belts?

on my hands.  With all of the music surrounding my family - it really comes as no surprise though.  I bought Amber her birthday present early. She's been bugging me for a guitar for while so having gotten my refund check from the fun happy IRS, I marched her over to the Guitar Exchange in Catonsville where a friend of mine used to work and we began pricing guitars. Nothing that fancy - but we wound up with an Ibanez  - TBK  acoustic/electric combo. I've given lessons in tuning the thing and basic chords and she has taken that and run with it. She is playing the thing to death - learning chord switches and actually attempting to write some songs. Doesn't sound too bad considering she's only had the thing for 2 and half days. Hopefully she'll learn a lot more. She can already read music a bit so that's a bonus.  I have offer for free lessons on Saturdays - I just have to get her out of the bed.

Went to D.C. last night to a play at Ford's Theater. It was a world premiere written for the reopening of Ford's following restoration work. The play itself was wonderful with David Selby in the leading role of Lincoln. He really embodied the man and made him human - we saw him cracking jokes, telling stories, digging up son Tad's doll Jack from the White House garden, dealing with McClellan and his bad case of "the slows".  We heard his dreams, conversations with wife Mary Todd, saw him pardon a 15 year old boy who was to be shot for falling asleep at his post, and saw him wrestle politically and emotionally with the inevitable Emancipation Proclamation.  It takes place in 1862 - the year that was the most the troublesome during the Lincoln presidency. I've known who Selby is for a while - but he so took over the role of Lincoln that you forgot you were watching a play. And it was just a bit surreal to know that all this was taking place on the stage just a few feet from where the man was actually shot.

I was privileged to meet the star in the lobby after the play - he was teasing all of us who were standing in line for the elevator that went to the parking garage. He is delightful and very very humble (and VERY tall) and apparently loves hanging out at Antietam.  My friend who was with me even earned herself a hug.  If you are in the area and can still get tickets - I highly recommend this play. It is at Ford's until March 3.

I got the autopsy results on little Seamas today and it apparently was confirmed FIP - feline infectious perotinitis. Which means that there was nothing we could have done for him except what we did. Our only concern now is Tsing-Tsing and Nymphadora. They have undoubtedly been exposed to the Corona Virus which causes FIP - but whether it will mutate into that remains to be seen.  It largely depends on stressors that they are exposed to (like being carted off by my sister to her basement in the middle of the night). So I endeavor to keep them fat, happy and loved. To some they are just cats, but to us and to many other friends of mine - they are like members of the family. When one becomes ill - you care for it like you would a child and if you loose one - it is like you've lost a member of the family. And the two I have remaining are just that - part of my little family. They curl up under the covers with me, or sleep on Amber's feet, they purr and play and will give up their dignity for a belly rub.  They are sweet, fuzzy and warm. They leave cat hair everywhere. They sleep in my sink, on my piano bench, in laundry baskets, wicker trash cans and on my stomach. They drink water from glasses. They eat granola, yogurt, pasta and french fries. They are finicky about their cat food. They fuss at me when they are hungry and when they want attention. But most importantly - because they give their love unconditionally - they are loved.

And I really must preface this with a chuckle and a warning that this is SOP for the ex. However, now he's chosen to take it out on Amber. Not good. And of course it leaves a mess for me - but hey - what else is new? Been doing this now for 13 years. Sigh.

Two weeks ago I placed a phone call to him requesting that he return some of her things that had been removed from my home. Amber had actually requested them and she asked me to call her father and see if he could get them to us. Things like jeans, tee shirts, bras and socks, in addition to her scrapbook and her stuffed animals. She's a size 3-4 women's and it's not like he's gonna fit in her clothes. Naturally he didn't call back - so Amber tried again a few days later. Still nothing - so she was a little hurt. Finally on a Friday - we hear from him - or rather his number came up on my caller ID - so we knew that he had called. Amber was so upset that despite encouragement - she refused to call him back.  Last Monday we figured we would attempt and drive past his place and see if he was home and ask if she could collect a few things. No luck. He wasn't home.  She fumed about it for a few more days and I told her today that we could try again. So after school we drove by once more and viola! He was home. So we pulled up and I called him and requested that Amber be allowed to come up and collect a few things. He said no that it really wasn't convenient and was really a bad time. Huh? He was home. Why couldn't the child come up to where she lived for almost 3 and half months and grab some clothes, a few stuffed animals and her scrapbook? It was 4:30 in the afternoon - it's not like it was 11 at night or anything.  She became a bit vocal and stated that she wanted her things - so I suggested that he simply bring them down and she would met him at the door. He asked what it was that she wanted - I told him. He clothes, her hat, her scrapbook and photos. The stuffed animals would have to wait as they were apparently scattered to the four winds around her bedroom.  I stood off to the side and let her wait at the steps. He slammed out the front door of his building with a plastic bag and her scrapbook, and as she got up to go get them - he put them on the ground and slammed the door in her face and walked away. I don't even think he looked at her. Stunned, she started to cry and told me to call him back and so she could get the rest of her things. I didn't really want to push our luck so I opted not to and we left.  About 10 minutes up the road - she had me turn around because she was terrified that he had put the rest of her things outside the building and of course we wouldn't be there to get them so she was afraid that they might get thrown away.  I honestly didn't know if he would do something like that or not - but I turned around anyway and we went back and looked. Nothing else. So once more - we left and went home. She rummaged through the bag and declared that he had only given her back some socks and 2 tee-shirts. No photos, no jeans, no bra, no hat. Understandably, she's upset but not so much by the lack of things returned but by the fact that he didn't speak to her, didn't look at her, didn't even acknowledge her when he placed that bag outside.  How in the hell could any father not even acknowledge his own child? A child who was standing maybe 15 feet from him and walking in his direction? A child that up until a month ago lived in his home?  I can completely understand him not acknowledging me - that's pretty much a given where we are concerned and given that he has stated on more than 1 occasion that he hates me, I don't expect much from him along those lines - but for him not to acknowledge Amber? Is beyond despicable. For all the trouble that he went through to keep her from communicating with me for 3 months and all the lying he did to cover for his girlfriend? I would ask why - but I'd probably just get more lies and general bullshit - so I won't. Unfortunately Amber wants to know why and seeing as how she's only 13  - this is going to eat at her until she either a) gets an answer from him, which she may not accept or b) figures out on her own what I've known for a while now and that is that he's an asshole.  I'm not going to tell her that - but if and when she figures it out?  If he thinks she could scream and cuss before? He ain't heard nothing yet.

The dust has finally settled and a bit of peace has been restored with my daughter's return home last month. Thank goodness. Sort of. Which is not to say that I don't expect to get bitten in the ass by my ex or sis at any given moment, but what I do find amusing is that every now and then Amber innocently drops little tid-bits about her father and her aunt. And while I blow them off for the most part - I find it exceedingly amusing that after my sister's preaching at me on this livejournal and her insistence that I live in "fantasy-land" because I happen to have a few actors that I like - she in fact lives in fantasy-land as well. As Amber and I sat and watched an ep of Criminal Minds (because gee - Michael Biehn was a guest star and did a damn good job too) we saw an ad for High School The Musical part 19 or whatever. Amber said "I saw that!" Okay. I never took her to see it - so "With who?" was my question. The aunt- was the answer. Okay. But the cousins didn't go - just Amber. Why? Because the aunt really likes Zac Efron - or whatever his name is and we are never to tell the uncle. I really had to chuckle and remembered when Daniel Craig's name  got mentioned in passing a while ago because apparently she had finally seen Casino Royale and decided she had a crush. I don't blame her. The man is a hunk. What of it? Apparently she (sis) is allowed to have a few fantasies - but I'm not. Bugger that. I really wish that someone would tell her that it's alright to be a fan of an actor, to get the occassional autograph, to go and see his films as a show of support. Stalking? = bad    Supporting? = good. Unfortunately there is a very fine line between stalkers and overzealous fans, which of course gives a lot of fandoms a bad name, but for the most part actors are apprecitative of their fans support.  Some actors really appreciate all the support (like one I know of and adore) and others actually chat with their fans online and somehow manage to ignore the nutcases (like another I know of). They are people too and acting is simply their chosen profession, the same as some people choose being a doctor or a lawyer or designer. I worked with actors in college - they're the same as everybody else - and everybody has their issues and their demons - but  I happen to know that most want their privacy respected and don't like having cameras shoved in their faces by razzi photogs, nor do they enjoy being chased down the street by screaming women who then attempt to play grab-ass. However, if you live a zillion miles away from said celebrity, or even if you don't - there is nothing wrong with admitting that gee- you're a fan.  I've met celebs before - at conventions, parties, premiers and at restaurants - they are the same as everybody else I know. Human.