over

This is the last time.
This is the end.
I'm in the fucking hospital again.
My life is over. Thank God.
I'm sorry Ace. You deserve better. Goodbye.
I'm sorry Mom. I'm done disappointing you.
Goodbye to my husband. I still love you.
Goodbye to my siblings. My dads. My best friend.
Goodbye to my partner.
I love you all. You'll all be free soon.
I'm finished. I'm never doing this again.

I'll go to Illinois. Whatever.
It's a place to stay. Free food.
Wait, I'm not getting kicked out. Like everywhere else.
I'm safe here. I'm warm. I'm needed. I'm loved.
I'm vulnerable. I'm feeling. I'm listening.
I'm learning. I'm inspired.
One is too many, a thousand is never enough.

I'm an addict.
I'm an addict.
I'm sick. But I can be free.
Goodbye alcohol.
Goodbye pills.
Goodbye self-hate.
Goodbye codependency.
Goodbye days of no laughter. No human contact.

I'm sorry Ace. You do deserve better.
I am better.
I'm sorry Mom. I'm done disappointing you. I promise.
Thank you for not giving up.
I miss my siblings. My dads. My best friend.
I'll make it all up to you. I love you.
You're free because I'm free.
Goodbye to my husband. Hello co-parent, friend.
I love you. Thank you for saving my life.
Goodbye to my partner. I won't ever forget you.
But we're done.

Today is for me.
Tomorrow is for me.
Today I will stay sober.
Goodbye to my yesterdays.
Thank you Timberline Knolls.
Thank you God.
Thank you Higher Power.
My life isn't over. It's complete.

Product reviews!

Have I ever done product reviews on my blog? Surely I have; I have this pervasive belief that my opinion is what causes the sun to rise and fall.

SO! There are two things that have changed my life lately. Like, dramatically. For the better. Intense stuff.

The first product is the Vegetti.

Perfectly manicured man hands not included.

Basically, you stick any vegetable in it, spin it around, and it makes spaghetti. You can boil it, saute it, bake it. I've used yellow squash and zucchini, neither of which Drew or Ace likes, but I've sautéed it and added various sauces and holy cow, it's so good, and it gets the seal of approval from Drew AND Ace. There's no squash-y taste at all. You don't have to peel the vegetable first, but I usually do. You don't have to seed the vegetable. I've heard carrots and sweet potatoes are also really good although I haven't tried them. It's only 12 bucks! Unbelievable. We don't eat pasta because we're low-carb people (although cheaters) but this has expanded the number of meals I know how to cook infinitely. I'll never buy pasta again, I assure you.

Product number two! The Instawave.

That's right, folks, it's a hair curler for total morons like myself. I've spent entirely too much money on curling irons, rods, hair rollers, anything and everything. It's never turned out right and it takes forEVER to do my whole head. I've been a girl for 34 whole years and I've just never gotten it right. I saw the Instawave during an Ulta binge and since it was only $50 and I don't have impulse control, I thought why not. The manual (yes I read the manual) said for loose curls, set it on low and curl for 3 seconds. There's an adjustment period during which you may find yourself saying bad words and looking at tutorials on YouTube, but you just put a chunk of your hair in there and it spins around and sucks up the hair around the curling rod. I counted to three and holy cow, best curls of my life.

Ironic duck lips not included. 

It takes about 5-10 minutes to do my whole head, and as you may know, I have 68 pounds of hair. That's way, way, way less time than with any other curler I've ever used and even less time than it takes to straighten. It even looks good the next day. If you've had trouble curling your hair, you MUST buy this product. 

These things get my full seal of approval. Go forth! Improve your lives! Just don't stick your hair in the Vegetti or your veggies on the Instawave.

The things I get myself into...

I've given up Twitter for Lent. Instead of doing ANYTHING ELSE PRODUCTIVE, like reading books, doing photography, painting my bathroom, paying full attention to movies, writing the next great American novel and going on a book tour, doing Tai Chi, learning Kurdish, curing cancer, or literally anything else, I've taken up idly reading Facebook instead of idly reading Twitter. Yeah, I don't know. Maybe I should get one of those blogs everyone talks about.

Yesterday, I saw a news article about a restaurant owner in Florence, a teeny town south of Jackson, who bought a $170,000, 110-foot-tall cross to put in front of his restaurant. I commented with a little bit of surprise, saying that I hoped I'd put that money to better use if I had it. I was mollywhopped by a hundred different people, y'all. It's a witness for Christ, it's a beacon of hope, it's none of my business how he spends his money, he's a good man who wants to do good for his community, how do I know how many homeless children he's fed, et cetera. I also got a "your stupid" and "how much do you spend on pedicures?" It's "you're" and $40 when it's to the point where my feet look diseased.

This morning, I saw this article on the same page about a mega-church (do not get me started) pastor who wants to spend $65 million on a private jet for himself to spread the gospel across the world. Oh man, the comments on that post. That's greedy. That man is not bringing glory to Christ. That money should go to starving children. That money should go to the poor, the homeless, the needy, TO THE HUMBLE COMMENTER.

Oh, okay.

The scale of money is the same, presumably. The restaurant owner is extremely wealthy. He owns a popular restaurant and a ton of property all over the state of Mississippi and spends $7,000 on lavish deer hunts. He solicited donations for the cross because heaven forbid he use his own money. He's a millionaire! Now he has a giant cross! Who cares how he spends his money? The mega-church preacher is using donations solicited by his millions of congregants all over the world to facilitate his travels. Obvs he can't fly coach, that'd be inconvenient. He's a billionaire! He wears Armani suits! Who cares how he spends his money?

WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE? I seriously want to know. I mean, I see the glaring difference that the restaurant owner is white and the mega-church pastor is black but I dare not say it, heavens no. I see that $170,000 is a lot less than $65 million, but again, the ratio of wealth is the same.

I don't know, man. The restaurant owner may fool his followers into believing he's building a cross as a monument to Christ, but I think it's a businessman advertising his business using Jesus as a marketing tool. The mega-church pastor may fool his followers into believing his plane is a way to spread the gospel to more people, but I think mega-churches and billionaire pastors are gross as hell to begin with.

Y'all enlighten me.

Binge-watchers only, please.

I discovered something about myself recently, and I'm wondering if it's an epidemic, or it's just me.

Drew and I went without anything but an antenna and video streaming devices for maybe 2-3 years. I'm sure it was longer than that and I'm sure Drew will say it was shorter than that. It felt like longer because of football. I HATED having to go to someone else's house or find a sketchy European stream for Thursday Night Football, I hated only getting Big 10 college football all day on Saturdays with maybe one SEC game. I just hated everything about not having access to football at all times that it was on.

I was mostly okay during the off-season, watching Netflix and Hulu Plus and trashy judge shows on network TV, and finding the occasional show to binge-watch, which is my anti-drug. However, I frequently whined to Drew about having to download stuff like Breaking Bad or The Walking Dead off sketchy European sites (God love the Europeans) the day after they aired. So last year when football season was getting underway, I put my foot down and insisted that Drew get us satellite again. And like the good husband of a shrieking harridan, he let me go ahead and get it.

We got free Sunday Ticket last year, enabling us to watch all NFL football games, all Sunday long. Oh man. Then I discovered Red Zone and considered installing a fridge and a toilet in the living room so I never had to part with it between the hours of noon and 7pm.

Then the off-season rolled around. It took me until about April of this year, but I finally admitted to Drew, to his face, that if it weren't for football, I wouldn't care about network TV at all. I do like watching Friends for 2 solid hours in the afternoon on TBS, but otherwise, I was watching Netflix and Amazon Prime all. the. time. Sure, it was nice having The Walking Dead and Breaking Bad. And we got into a few new shows like The League and Key and Peele. And the DVR was definitely nice.

Here's the thing, though, I only half-assed watched those shows while they were on live. I'd be reading Twitter or doing my nails or anything else but paying full attention to the show. So I basically missed last year of TWD and every other show entirely.

When this year's premiere of The Walking Dead was approaching, I sat down over about 5 days and binge-watched the first 4 seasons of the show on Netflix so I could catch up and have it fresh in my mind. I half-assed watched the season premiere, then basically started going to bed at like 9 and missing the show altogether and didn't watch it at all. Here's the problem with that - you catch spoilers. For example, there's a huge spoiler in the mid-season finale of TWD that TWD's Twitter account tweeted right after the show was over. I will not say what it was, but it's a big deal. I reacted to the spoiler with little emotion and went on about my business.

Yesterday morning, I was about to do my normal Wednesday clean-the-whole-house routine, but decided that since Drew was out of town and I had no one to clean for, I'd catch up on TWD. So I pretty much sat in my own filth for 8 hours with a brief breaks for basic human needs and picking Ace up from school and watched TWD. The mid-season finale came on and I knew what the huge thing was that was going to happen. I knew it was coming.

Then it happened.

I EXPLODED in tears, threw my phone across the room, and immediately had to pause the show to bawl my eyes out, cry into a bunch of tissues, throw THOSE across the room, and finally compose myself. Then I watched the last 90 seconds of the show, cried out whatever tears I had left, and kinda sat there shaking and found a Louis C.K. special on Amazon Prime to calm myself down.

I know I wouldn't have reacted that way if I'd watched it weekly, because my entire attention wouldn't have been on the show and I wouldn't have had the emotional investment. And I KNEW it was coming. Binge-watching takes up all my attention to the point that people on Twitter ask where I am, and just gives me a payoff that watching weekly doesn't do.

So, that was an entire long way to say, are you a binge-watcher? Have you found yourself trying to maintain attention when watching shows live? If I could do something like JUST pay to add Sunday Ticket, HBOGo, and Showtime Anytime to my regular streaming video devices, I so would and wouldn't need cable or satellite at all. I don't even have a problem with spoilers, because they don't spoil the show for me. For example, knowing the big big spoiler on the series finale of Breaking Bad would not spoil the huge roller coaster ride of binge-watching all the seasons on Netflix. (Highly, highly recommended.)

Now, if you'll excuse me, Oculus just came out on Netflix. And December 6th, American Horror Story: Coven will take me away from all wifely and most motherly duties for 2-3 days. Streaming video is my faaaaaavorite thing.

Road rage!

I almost posted this two weeks ago. I just never finished it. I was the victim of my first road rage incident!

The intersection leading to my house has turn lanes all around. I was first in line on the major highway in the east-facing turn lane. There was a grizzled old lady with a bad haircut in a silver car behind me. In the west-facing turn lane were two buses. If you promise not to laugh, I'll give you a helpful drawing I made on a sketchy MS Paint-like website I found.

Promise not to laugh.

PROMISE.

YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T LAUGH. Do you have any idea how hard it is to draw something with a trackpad? This was my face the whole time: 

ANYWAY.

I reached the front of the intersection as the yellow turn arrow turned to a green light for the lanes going straight, so I had a green light, but not a green arrow. All the traffic passed and there was a lull, but I couldn't see past the buses in the west-facing lane, so I wasn't going. Hell, if there's anything bigger than a Smart Car (lol) in the west-facing lane and you're in the front of the east-facing lane, you can't see any oncoming traffic.

Here's the thing though: if you're the second car in the east-facing turn lane, you can see oncoming traffic clear to Alabama. In the 10 years I've lived here, I've been in every possible position in that turn lane, so I know the deal. 

Unfortunately, the grizzly bitch behind me didn't, so she honked her horn and started waving her arms at me to go. I pointed at the buses, kinda gave her a Kanye shrug, and stayed right where I was. The first bus turned, the second bus was still there, I still couldn't see, so she honked again, two-three times. I pointed again at the bus and put my hand up, like "I CANNA SEE!!!" She LAID on her horn and wouldn't let up. The second bus went and I could finally see that there was no oncoming traffic, so I started to go, and she's still on her horn and RIGHT up my ass. So, like any polite suburban housewife with a limited edition sedan, I opened my sunroof and put my middle finger through it.

The street to get to my neighborhood is about 100 yards from that intersection, and we maintained our aggressive stances until I had to turn. I put both hands on the wheel, hit my turn signal, and turned. 

This bitch is still on her horn, following me.

That street is another good 100 yards and once we hit my neighborhood, she gets off the horn. I think, surely, she's not following me home. I turn onto my street and yuuup, she turns behind me. 

If you ever find yourself in this position, drive to the nearest police station. I'm not kidding. Do not do what I did next. Don't. My dad taught me better and he'd be PISSED if he read this. The only thing I was thinking about was getting home to pay my maid so she could leave. Anyway.

I stop mid-way down my street and put my car in park. She pulls up beside me, rolls her window down, and starts yelling. I can't hear her and I'm facing straight ahead, ignoring her, hoping she'll get over it and drive away. Nnnooooo, she went and laid on her horn. I figured at this point she's bothering the neighbors, so I roll the window down and say "Ma'am, you need to stop following me right now." "You stupid bitch, you should have gone! RABBLE RABBLE RABBLE" "Ma'am, I couldn't see. You need to move on. I have a gun in my car and I know how to use it. Stop following me right now." "I'M CALLING THE COPS ON YOU, YOU CRAZY BITCH!"

Okay. So, I go to my house, which she can see, and pay my maid and tell her what happened. My maid is country as hell; "People ain't right these days, you can't go nowhere. Whatnahell's wrong with these crazy people." I tell her I'm going to walk her outside because she's probably 60 and 4'11 with boobs the size of beach balls and constant medical problems and she says "I ain't scared, I'll put a whoopin' on her she won't forget none." I love my maid. I walk her outside and she drives off just as a police car is pulling up, with another one right behind it. 

I stand and watch as the two officers listen to Grizzly. They're two houses down and I can hear her screaming and see her waving her bingo wings in the air and hitting her dashboard. The officers are moving their hands in that "calm down" motion to no avail. Eventually, they walk to me, and I tell them my side. When I said "I told her that I had a gun in my car and she needed to stop following me," they turned to each other and one said "Sounds like a reasonable request to me." "Yep." They walk back to her car.

She starts screaming and flailing again so I pull up Twitter while I wait. Eventually, I hear her engine rev and she speeds off and they start walking back to me shaking their heads so I put my phone away. As they get close to me, one says "Okay, ma'am, put your hands behind your back."

"Just kidding."

I collapsed a little bit with my hands on my knees and yelled "YOU'RE THE LEAST FUNNY PERSON EVER, SIR." They're both cracking up. Ha freakin' ha, guys. We all compose ourselves and they start apologizing, I start apologizing, and one says "You have every right to have a gun in your car. You didn't threaten to shoot her. You did the right thing. People need to realize that we're out here for criminal activity, not tantrums, and she's throwing a tantrum." "Yes sir." I thanked them for coming out, offered them drinks and food (yo, I'm Southern), we had another round of apologies, and I walked back in my clean house and folded my laundry.

24-year-old Stacey probably would have gone to jail, honestly. 34-year-old Stacey SHOULD have driven to the police station so they wouldn't have to come to me, but otherwise handled it remarkably well. I think the hours spent escorting at the abortion clinic with people being aggressive toward me for hours on end conditioned me for that very moment. 

I don't have road rage. I used to. I think people with road rage have a sense of self-aggrandizement, like, that driver doing that stupid thing is doing it to piss THEM off, specifically. I feel like, 99% of the time, if a driver does something I perceive as stupid, they're not doing it on purpose. We all make mistakes, man. I'm totally The Dude when I'm driving. I hope Grizzly Bitch gets over her rage. 

Or steps on Legos every day for the rest of her life.

Arguably my best prank ever.

We've had a rough few days as a family. Ace spent 11 hours in the ER Monday and was diagnosed with bursitis and tendinitis in his left hip. He had to spend the night overnight. With that stress fresh on our minds, in addition to the stress from, oh, I don't know, EVERYTHING THAT HAS HAPPENED FOR THE LAST 2 YEARS, I found a great chance for levity today.

Drew, my staunch libertarian husband, whom I love more than life, got a new car Saturday. (That's also part of a shitty story). I picked up his license plate this morning and got a bright idea. I contacted a guy who's a whiz at Photoshop and here's what happened.

I'm waiting for him to get home. We'll see if he greets me with a big hug and kiss.

Glorious farewell to homeschooling and first day of school!

If you haven't been following along on social media, I'll make an incredibly long story as short as possible.

I HATED homeschooling. I'm not gonna go through the many reasons why, but I HATED IT HATED IT HATED IT. I honestly wasn't very good at it, I sucked at getting socialization for both of us, I don't think he was educated well enough. I should have known I wasn't cut out for it.

Real talk: the year really took a toll on both Ace's and my mental health. I was drinking a lot. A lot. Ace and I argued about everything all day and I would wind up hiding from him all night in the guest bedroom watching Netflix, not even saying goodnight to him or Drew. I started to honestly start losing maternal feelings because he was so abusive. Ace - well, Ace remained the same. I wanted to start the new school year sometime in September, but we had an awful incident at a party and Ace exhibited some really scary behavior and needed to go inpatient.

His counselor at that facility recommended the Mississippi State Hospital, commonly referred to as "Whitfield." If you're a resident of Mississippi, you've heard of Whitfield, and you're scared of it. Honestly, the campus is beautiful and looks a lot like Ole Miss. All brick buildings, white columns, white painted windows, very pretty. But you just KNOW (doom music) it's the (crescendo) state asylum.

My immediate reaction:

But, after some research and talking to a lot of people, I decided that was the best course of action. He was there 2 months, and y'all, he's a different kid, and I'm a different mom. That's a very long story, though, and HUGE understatements, and if I ever blog again, I'll tell you all about it. Who knew my kid could get top notch care at a Mississippi state-funded psychiatric facility??

One of the many bits of information the hospital gave us was that he'd be better served in the public school system because they have a lot of therapeutic avenues that are not available to me as a private citizen with great insurance and a pretty damn good income. He's going to get individual and group therapy and social skills training weekly. WEEKLY. I've looked everywhere - that is literally not available if you're paying privately.

He was discharged on Halloween, last Friday. He wanted to be Mario, reimagined as a werewolf. Alright.

We had an IEP meeting on Wednesday and they said he could start the next day. I. WAS. ECSTATIC.

I could go back and volunteer at the clinic, I could volunteer at The Little Light House, I could get pedicures alone, I could go grocery shopping alone... hell, I could sit in my underwear in the recliner and pick my boogers for 7 hours a day if I wanted. Blah blah blah doing what's best for my child blah 7 HOURS A DAY 5 DAYS A WEEK BY MYSELF. 

LET'S GET TO THE BARRAGE OF FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL PICTURES, SHALL WE??

I was up at 6 on his first day, and although I won't have to wake him up until 7 normally, Ace was up at about 6:15. Drew was home because we only have one car right now and I had to drive him to work (another long story UGH), so I asked him to make some bacon and I started making pancakes. 

(Never one to skip an opportunity to martyr myself, I'd like to point out I'd only had a single cup of coffee at this point.)

Pumpkin pecan oatmeal pancakes, Ace's favorite.

"Hey Ace, smile."

"No, dude, smile. And quit blinking."

"You blinked again!"

"I hate the flash, Mom!"

"Okay, I'll turn it off."

"DUDE, I turned the flash off!"

"I WANT TO EAT MY PANCAKES!"

"One more."

"Thank you."

"Mfffffpancakesmmm"

Here's my big boy walking into school! Bye buddy! I love you!

Just kidding, I totally followed him in. Here's his teacher:

And here's Drew out of frame forcibly dragging me out of the classroom telling me I'm the most embarrassing person in the world right now.

Ace and I both have had a gosh darned wonderful couple of days. I watched the TedX Jackson talks yesterday and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. I LOVED IT. He says he misses me during the day but he's really having fun and has gotten "blue" on his behavior reports, which means "excellent." 

I really am ecstatic, and hopeful, and happy, for the first time in 4 years. Also, my DSLR was fixed! Good news all around. I don't know how to finish long form writing anymore, so have a good day!