Of course I can. It’s my space, even though I don’t use it very often. Sorry about the major lack of posts lately! School got massively busy as we geared up to finals. How busy? I had 4 papers, 3 interviews, and a test in 3 days, and 2 of those papers were for the same class. Finals are now done and things are looking good for my classes. Right now I have 2 B’s. I had an A going into my communications final and I’m still waiting on that grade – the last paper I turned in is worth 1/3 of the grade so there’s still a lot of room for that to fall. I just took my Philosophy final yesterday and we had a paper out on that one too. Grades have to be finalized by the 31st, but I’m feeling okay so far.
Now for my vents: I am so frustrated right now I could scream. The dog has been getting more and more destructive lately. She’s always chewed up things – my chapsticks were her favorite thing to eat for a long time when she was younger. Then she stopped for a while but has started up again since we had the Boy. We know WHY – she’s a whippet and they need a lot of exercise and attention. Before we had him, we could play with her a LOT but we can’t now. We just don’t have the time or the space, since so much is blocked off with baby gates. We don’t have the time to take her down to the dog park all the time and let her run, or throw a ball outside. We just don’t. There’s so much that has to be done all the time that energy is scarce for both of us. Inara is no longer just chewing on chapsticks now, oh no. She is chewing on tupperware (clean, mind you), utensils, etc. Last week or the week before, I came home and she had pulled a prescription bag off my desk and torn it apart…with the meds still in it. Had I been gone any longer I have no doubt that she would have chewed the containers apart and eaten the meds, which probably would have killed her. Today I came home and she had gotten into the chocolate for stockings that I have put away…obviously not well enough. She ate an entire bag of Giradelli chocolate, complete with wrappers, and then threw it all up all over the house – twice in the Boy’s room, a place she is not to be. I’ve had it with her. Chocolate is poison to dogs and she’s going to end up getting herself killed from eating things she’s not supposed to. I ordered Aaron to find her a new home. He is understandably angry, although he claims it’s not with me. I would understand if he was, though, because I am the one putting my foot down. For 4 years I have been dealing with her eating all of my stuff – never his, always mine. Stealing things out of my trash, off my desk, off the counter. One of our friends is interested in taking her, someone who has a part-whippet that needs a buddy and also has 1/4 acre of land for her to run on. I’m hoping against hope that her husband will agree to it, because I think it would be perfect for Inara.
My father. Oh my father. He didn’t come up for Thanksgiving because he told me he was going to go to my sister’s instead, which is fine by me. All I cared about was that he was with family. Then he decided he had to work instead. I don’t doubt that he volunteered for the shift and that he spent the holiday with M instead. (Don’t know who M is? Check out the other blog of mine.) So, he was to spend Thanksgiving with my sister and Christmas with me. Guess who decided today that he’s not coming up for Christmas either? Yeah. His excuse? Weather. The weather channel says there’s supposed to be a bunch of storms coming in from WA over the next few days and he’s just certain that we’re all going to get a ton of snow. Um…we don’t really get much snow. The mountains trap it all so the valley doesn’t get much. Certainly not enough to hinder being able to drive, not when you live in a flatland that gets a lot of snow like dad does. He has a damn truck, and has always believed that “there is nothing that my 4-wheel-drive can’t get out of”. I KNOW he can come up here. And if he gets stuck? Well, he doesn’t go back to work until January 4th at least (that’s a whole other story that I don’t feel like rehashing, except to say that my dad is such a drama queen now that my mom is gone). His biggest worry? That the stove will go out and the house will get cold. Oh for fucks’s sake. His fucking STOVE is more important on a holiday than I am, apparently. He couldn’t, you know, turn up the thermostat so that the actual heater runs. No, that would be too logical and easy. I am so…I don’t even know why I fucking bother any more. My mother NEVER would have pulled this shit and she wouldn’t have let him pull it either, but I have no choice. I can’t very well force him into coming up, and going down isn’t an option. Other years, yes, but not this year. Aaron’s dad is still dying and getting worse all the time, so we want to do holidays with him for as long as we can. I think that trumps dad’s tantrum or whatever in the hell this is. I think he just wants to celebrate with M again and can use the weather as an excuse, since I can’t prove it won’t happen.
Now, off to try and get some cleaning done so we can get the damn tree up. I don’t know why we are bothering, since the Boy is too young to care and it’s only going to be up for a few days anyways, but Aaron wants it up so we’re putting it up. I confess to feeling a little weird at the idea of NOT having one to put presents under. I just have no Christmas spirit. I know where it is – it died when mom did. That was always “our” holiday. She loved Christmas and all the things that go with it. She loved the chance to play “Twelve Days of Christmas” to a family, or pretending to be “The Christmas Fairy” who left surprise presents for people. She handled my advent calendar, even when I was a teen, and she used to make up funny tags for our presents. It was all I could do to summon enough to do that part this year. I just don’t CARE. It’s not the same, it will never be the same, and I’m not sure how to adapt to that. I was hoping the Boy would make a difference, but I think he’s too young still. He has no concept of Santa (yes, we are going to do that lie, deal with it) or presents, except that there’s paper for him to play with. Here’s hoping I manage to dredge some up from somewhere.