Gypsy Boy might walk on water

Ok, so let me tell you that I have raised one super disciplined kid, especially considering that I am about the least freaking disciplined person on the face of the planet.

Brushing my teeth twice a day is comparative to military drills.

BUT, this super-fantastic kid that I have (in spite of his mother being a super-fantastic flake) totally made it the whole (um, howevermanydays) Lenten-time without drinking soda or playing with army men.

And I think we're all pretty aware that howevermanydays is like a gajillion is kid time.

He did wind up eating meat on a Friday once... which really wasn't his fault because *duh* his mom is a flake.

But yea, he learned his lesson (huh? what's are those?) and called me this past Friday saying that everyone was eating steak and ribs and he asked Super Dad to go get him some fish for the grill because it was Lent.

*gawk*

My kid is a Lenten superstar. Like that Jesus guy... I hear he was good at it too.

Gypsy Mom Gets Antsy-Pants

My brain has been on TOTAL overload lately.

It's been raining cats and dogs here for the past two days and I think I must be the only person on the planet that is actually excited about it.

May flowers!!

Right?

No?

Well... I like it, nonetheless.

Oh yea, and I don't have anything to mow once it gets sunny.

Yea boi.

I've been spending money at at erratic pace lately as a therapy of sorts.

What the heck else are you supposed to do when you're living in a 3x5 cell at your parents house?

So I'm going to have to have an "old stuff" Ebay sale extravaganza once I move. It would be nice if I would be smart and sell it BEFORE I have to move it.

But the smart... I am not.

Gypsy Boy is back home after a week away at Super Dad's, so I am a happy gal.

Granted, I'm crinked up like a old pair of jeans in the bottom of a laundry basket from sleeping in a twin bed with him... but still, happy.

I'm trying to stay VERY busy(looking) at work so that I'm not one of the people they decide they could do without.

Cause that would be bad.

Unemployment makes my butt look big.

Oh, and speaking of, I've lost 15 lbs!

Er... then I gained 2 back over Easter, but I can poo out 2 lbs (let's be honest here).

I'm currently wearing a pair of jeans that I NEVER wore because my brain was being quite optimistic about how large my other brain (read ARSE) really was.

But now they fit, and I am having the happy.

Oh and I just made a very, very strong cup (or 3) or coffee.

Let the insanity begin.....

The Gypsies Go On Vacation

I made myself cringe reading my last post.... I'm sorry :(

I obviously wrote it in the heat of a moment that was not one of my finest.

Anyhoo... I'm good now. The initial shock of the whole thing that threw me off, but then I realized that I was feeling like that pretty much everyday when we were together... so my life is downright spectacular now.

And speaking of spectacular - I'm in vacation planning mode (yay!).

The really great part about your kid getting older is when you go on vacation (a) no diaper bags, (b) you can get on rides together and (c) they can help you plan. Holla!

Granted, I'm in no rush for him to get older, but I kinda had this revelation that the world is open (well as budget allows) for us to pretty much pick whatever we want - hot dawg!

Um...... any suggestions??

As it turns out, this is a super-fantastic week for me to go on a tirade. And you, my friends, get to come right along with me.

Yes, you ARE lucky. Or trapped in a bad dream.

You be the judge.

** I totally spelled tirade wrong the first time around, so that should totally be my hint to shut up. Or go back to bed. Whatev. **

Ex-Guy has a new girlfriend, by the way. That was awesome news for the week.

Oh yea, and they've been talking for....oooh, a like year. I feel like someone could've mentioned that little tidbit to me a touch earlier.

I found some .... let's call them inappropriate emails between the two of them awhile back, but I trusted the douchbag and brushed it off.

So yea, they've been planning the coup for some time now.

Jokes on me!

And yea, apparently she looks like me.

Rad.

With that, I've been planning a couple of nicknames .... just for the ease of reference:

1. Ugly Autumn
2. Autumn V2.0
3. The Dirty Whore That's Been Talking To My Boyfriend For Months

Or, my personal favorite -

4. Hope You're Not a Fan Of the "O"... Cause You May Never Have One Again.
That last one has a ring to it.

Obviously, she's not the big issue here, just the new issue. Actually not my issue, but people seem to think I need to know, and I don't, and they suck.

Oh yea, and waking up with the cold sweats thinking about how I sunk my savings into his house and supporting us when he was unempolyed has been awesome too.

It's been a good week.

And how are you?

Gypsy Mom Starts Painting... Again.

Yes, I am still living with my parents.

And I swear they are darling people, but I'm about a hairs width away from losing my everlovingmind.

I think my cubicle is bigger than the living space in my room at their house. And there's not too much like feeling like you are in a cubicle for 85% of your day.

Yippee.

The painting extravaganza has resumed since Super Dad has decided to finally pick up his son.

I squeeze this stuff in when he's not home, ya know? Planning, people, planning!

But we all know I suck at the planning, and when I do plan and it doesn't pan out... well the tailspin resumes.

And nothing says PAR-TAY like a 30-something, living at home in the middle of a holy-fracking-frick tailspin.

You don't want it.

I don't want it.

Anyhoo... I'm painting. Again. Forever.

Gypsy Boy goes and grows up on me.

This morning my son got dressed, brushed teeth, got his bookbag together and made his lunch....


All without my assistance.


I started to scream with joy - then sob hysterically.


At least I waited until after he walked into school so I didn't embarrass him to death.


And for the record, I don't recall being asked permission for him to go and get all grown.

I guess he did that without me too...... *sniff*

Gypsy Mom Goes Out on the Town

Well happy good Monday to ya!

Dang... I tried.

Crappy Monday.

Grrr...

(shake it off)

Oook, so the weekend went all to fast, as usual. It was jammed packed with drama and pre-St. Pattys Day mayhem.

Wouldn't be me with out it, eh?

Friday night my best friend was taking pity on me by inviting me over for chinese and wine.

Then part 3 of our "core" trio got canned and we were a sad bunch of saps drowing our day in cheap wine and chinese food.

It doesn't sound much different than most of our get-togethers, just with a double helping of boo-hoo's and why-me's.

So Saturday I spent the whole ever-loving day moving what I thought would be the rest of my furniture from Ex-Guy's house.

That. Blew.

My poor Step-dad and his having to move me every-other-month.

I need to buy him something.

For real.

Anyhoo, 5 hours later we smashed ALMOST everything I own into a 10x15 storage locker and called it a day.

First off, let me tell you - if there is an award that exists for super-fantastic-storage-reorganization, then you can all just back out of the running right now.

I would rule.

Second of all, there is something really fantastic or really pathetic about being able to jam your life into that kind of space.

Whichever it is - I'm there.

Oh, and the other really great thing : nothing like looking at boxes full of your crap that someone looked at, took inventory of, then flung into a bunch of copy paper boxes.

Good times, good times.

AND Ex-Guy tried to pawn all the "relationship" stuff on me - you know, the pictures, trip scrapbooks ...blah, blah, blah.

Nuh-uh skipper - that's yer boat.

Sail on.

So with a cloudy head and a gluteous-majorly-maximus full of impending muscle spasms, we got pretty much everything out of that place.

Please-oh-please-jumpin-jebus-I-hope-so.

And, since nothing says "hey you should go drink like a fish", like being expelled from your house and living with your parents at *ahem* 31 - best friend (again) asked me over for dinner (and cooked, yehaw!), and we headed out for our friends bday.

Stop #1 - good times (which may or may not have included gravy fries).

Stop #2 - bad, bad idea.

While walking in the door at Stop #2 I get greeted with "he's here!".

*blank stare*

"HE'S here"

Well ain't that the friggin bees knees.

Shiz.

Well being the sophisticated female that I am, I suck it up, laugh it off and apparently chased off he and all of his cohorts with my presence alone.

Ah, nothing makes a girl feel better than clearing the place.

There might've been a bought of crying in a ladies room.

And there might have been a girl I know.... or resemble..... or am... that might have blabbered on excessively about what an ass-face Ex-Guy is.

Maybe.

Not one of my finer moments, but at least it was to my closest friends who will only bring it up once my emotional scars and the guilty twinges wear off.

*sigh*

With this, I decided to NOT go out and hang with my friends for post-pre-St. Patty's Day- celebratons on Sunday and painted things at the new house instead.

And there might have been a girl I know.... or resemble..... or am... that might have blabbered on excessively about what an ass-face Ex-Guy is.

But at least it was to myself and at least I will forgive me when the paint fumes and guilty twinges wear off.

*sigh*

Side note : To that person that oh-so-kindly pointed me to Ex-Guy's Facebook page which spouted "Ex-Guy is tired of cleaning his house, especially since HE didn't cause the mess", thanks but no thanks.