2001-02-03 - 14:30:47
Screw you, notifylist. It's not working right now and won't show me any html templates. Dammit. Otherwise, I might know who is reading my diary besides the few that I know about.
So, anyway, my boyfriend's arm is healing. He is doing a lot better. It's already been four weeks. He's going to be okay.
I have a desk now for my computer. But, since he's home 24/7, it's hard to actually use the computer cuz he whines and says that I'm on it all the time. It's so annoying. I wish he had a damn hobby. I could never actually type in my diary in front him, anyway. He would take things way too personally.
I had my first divorce trial since I filed for divorce two and a half years ago. Lame story. My lawyer sucks, let's just say. It's so hard to do all the steps I'm trying to take. Brief explanation: I want my husband to only have supervised visitation with the girls. I'd prefer a damn restraining order, but, he hasn't harmed me lately. Unless you want to count all the weird control issues that still occur from time to time. He makes very BAD judgement calls. I tried to call various agencies to report bad stuff about the only address I have for him and about all his bad judgement calls. You know, for instance, how he let our three-year-old ride in an infant carrier seat for babies and toddlers up to twenty pounds. Why, yes, as a matter of fact that is dangerous, since she is 31 pounds. Fucking moron. The first person I called was my lawyer. He told me to call the Health Department and the Child Abuse Hotline about various goings-on, so, I did, and kept getting re-referred until I wound up talking to the sheriff's department who finally told me that I have no actual crime to report and referred me BACK to my lawyer. THIS, my people, is THE REASON I feel so helpless when I try to fight for sole custody. I've already complained to the Florida Bar how bad my lawyer sucked, who then gave my case away (out of embarrassment of sucking) to some other lawyer who is already tired of me after two months. Now, I'm debating whether to turn HIS carelessness into the Florida Bar and risk an even LONGER delay in all these stupid fucking legalities that are going on. I hate all of this. Everything is a big run around. I just don't want my children to die. Is that so wrong? I don't want anybody touching them in the wrong manner. I don't want them to be neglected and dropped off with crackheads. I don't want people cussing around them. I want them to see women being treated with decency. I want them to see that women can grow up to be anything they want to be because they can, as long as it doesn't get them hurt or gets anyone else hurt. I want them to be strong and wise. I don't think he is capable or cares about teaching them any of that.
The only fucking address that I have for him is his mother's residence. This is awful, because his mother is schizophrenic and doesn't take any of her medication and neglects to do her necessary weekly psychiatric visits. She keeps the house disgustingly packratted with junk. So much so, that when my mother was there in November, to pick up a money order for me (bless her heart), my mother said the stench of mildew and mold was SO OVERWHELMING, that after she left, she threw up at the end of this woman's street. And that is where he told the courts he lived. That is where he says he takes the children. He doesn't do either there. He checks his mail that goes there.
When I had to live there before, we once tried to clean out the freezer and refrigerator when she left one time with one of her boyfriends to go trucking across country. This was way before I ever got pregnant or even went into the army. In the freezer, she saves fruit. No, it's not zip-locked or anything like that. It's not even prepared for freezing, like pureed or peeled or anything. It's just cut in half or left whole and stuck in these styrofoam drinking cups. They are covered with frostbite and mold all at the same time. They were mostly avocados and grapefruit, a couple of disgusting choices in my book. I couldn't make sense of it. Joel just kept saying that she is a packrat. That is a fucking understatement. Around the house, in the dining room and her bedroom are many issues of various smut magazines, other people's mail, and strange sketches of doll-faced exotic dancers. She has weird pictures of real people who are swingers, or at least she did, but, she probably still does. She has weird writings of plans of buying houses and starting businesses and various jottings of strangers AND family members' social security numbers, bank account statements, I. D. numbers, etc. It makes me sick to think of it all. She's one of those crazy people who steals mail and other's identity and attempts to use them for things like credit cards and gaining property. But, she's not successful at it. I don't think. She painted the walls with really weird designs. She keeps empty boxes and cans on top of the refrigerator and in cupboards to feign competency and make it appear like she is functional to go grocery shopping on a regular basis. I'm serious. At one point, she was trying to get David back from the state's custody, who happens to be Joel's only sibling, and she would stockpile the kitchen with empty packages to make it look like she had tons of food. THEY WERE ALL EMPTY. And she fills up all kinds of containers with water so she's prepared for when a hurricane hits. This is really gross though, cuz her containers are not clean, the water is not sanitary or drink-able, and sometimes she uses old bleach containers for this. She does the same type of thing in the bathroom. She puts water in shampoo and conditioner and lotion bottles so they appear to be full all the time. She puts old, used razors back into their packages so they appear supplied, but if you look closely, they are dull and/or rusty and totally unsanitary if you ask me. There are so many cockroaches in that house and proof of rats, very large ones. I've seen her try to keep various pets there. None of them were cared for properly. She tried to let more than one stray dog and cat live with her. This is very disappointing, because she does not ever allow these animals to have a normal caring-for. She refuses to use bowls for their food or water because she fears they will contaminate eatingware that she may have to use later. She just puts the food straight onto the floor, canned or dried. She tied up a dog, on more than one occasion, right in the living room because she was afraid the humane society would come and take it from her if she let it out to go to the bathroom or even took it for a much needed walk. So, these various dogs defecated right in her living room on the carpets. Joel got disgusted once and threw the carpet out and she got all pissed. But, the dog still defecated on the terrazzo floor, which is actually a very quality floor to have as far as real estate goes. They were all there at different times, but they were a poodle, a husky/wolf mix, a great dane, a mutt, a German shepherd, something else that I can't remember, and about five cats with one that had babies. Although, the cats didn't get chained up and they found ways out of the house but several died from dehydration. Joel and I reported her to the humane society once when we took the husky/wolf mix to them to save her (the dog). We told them her (his mother) name and not to let her adopt any dogs or any other animals, and especially not this one back, because we knew she was going to try. And she did, and boy, was she pissed when she discovered that she had been banned from adopting pets ever again. She had a pit bull some time after that, and tied it to the tree out in the backyard. He dug so many deep holes and had so many mosquito bites and barked so much, that I think some neighbor finally called and reported the poor thing. It was taken off the premises. The cats came after all that. They were there when I first got pregnant and moved back to Florida. The smell in the house was so toxic and they were so filled with worms and probably leukemia, that I had to move out after about two days, into a pregnant woman's shelter. I never lived there again. I don't know how to report any of this. I want to go take pictures of all the rooms in the house and get the Health Department to go and check it out. But, I haven't been there in months. Although, I'm sure not much has changed. It's real hard to change things that she does. She's real temperamental.
Anyway, I just finished reading Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver. She was the one that wrote The Poisonwood Bible. It was no Poisonwood Bible, but, it was pretty good reading. I like the way she writes. Now, I'm reading The Bean Trees (by her also).
Oh, did I mention that I refused visitation last weekend? I think it was the car seat that fucked up my trust in Joel the most. That and the other stories of neglect my girls tell me. I let them go stay with my mother this weekend, so, hopefully he doesn't try to bug her into letting him take them. I don't think she will be around enough for that to happen. He is probably trying to call me right now, but, oh, well. I'm online and the phone is busy. Haha. So, technically, I refused visitation also for this weekend. I will soon get a "contempt of court" thingy in which I will go to court and they will ask me why I refused the father visitation and I will bring out my list of reasons, the main one being that I have no actual address of his residence and I refuse to allow unsupervised visitation due to his bad judgement calls.
Last Sunday, the second day I refused visitation, we went for a drive, Jimbo, the girls and me, oh, and Jimmy too. As we were cruising down the main road, their was a bunch of congested traffic trying to get over in the far slow lane real quick. An accident had just happened. We turned off the road and went on a back road or two to go around it and get back on the highway. The police and ambulances weren't even THERE YET. I gawked at what happened to be a green pickup truck upside down with the cab's roof crushed down, or in. I thought I saw a little back cab thing, the kind with bucket seats and some small person's back that looked like it was hanging out of the window. Some work guy ran from his work truck with a fire extinguisher in hand to help out. That is all I saw. It really chilled me to the bone, because Joel had used a pickup truck the previous weekend to pick up the girls and THAT is what he used the useless car seat for Chloe in. If THAT truck can flip over, then HIS truck can flip over. I don't want any of my bunnies to die. He's so stupid.
So, there is my update. Happy belated Groundhog's Day.
