The War Council is disbanded. – Me, after a frank and refreshing talk with the ex-Mrs.
Friday, December 07, 2012 5:40 PM
I need a receipt (not a copy of your check, a receipt from the school showing the charges) for the “required” fees for marching band. [Translation: You’re a “liar.”] I will only be paying for the required marching band classes. Winter guard is not required for P.E. credit (I checked with the school and can forward a copy of the email to you if you need it) and the trip to San Francisco is not required for band and will not affect her grade – I will not be paying for them. [Translation: Fuck you, o.b.o. Kid 2] I was doing a favor for Taylor by signing the permission slip that you “forgot” to sign. [Translation: You’re a “liar.” also, my (Mom’s) parenting is a favor to be bestowed on Kid 2.] If you are unwilling to pay for that, please email to let me know promptly and I will call the school on Monday to tell them that Taylor will not be able to continue with winter guard, due to financial hardship. [Translation: I am happy to embarrass you and the kid rather than be a part of her adventure.] I told Taylor before you put your deposit down on the trip to San Francisco that I would not be able to help pay for it, if you need to cancel the trip then I advise you do that. [Translation: Fuck you, man. I don’t care that it comes right off my state tax bill, meaning my share has a net cost to me of $0.]
I will accept what appears to be a credit card statement for the physical [Translation: You’re a “liar” but I can’t prove it], however you should know that 35% of $35 is $12.25 (not $17.50 as you stated in your previous email [except that your share is 50%]). [Translation: I rhyme with rich]
Don’t ever get married with children because divorce is completely fucked up, volume 999
Ex: I want another day, so I can have 8 hours (Weds. and another) with my kid during the week and 7 on the weekend. But not Fridays. Or Saturdays.
Me: OK – you’re mom after all. That works out to 55 days a year (instead of 39) for child support purposes.
Court: OK, although with 60, you get eggroll.
Me: What extra day do you want?
Translation: My plea for extra time was bullshit. But I just saved an additional 15% on my
car insurance support obligations.
Kid: I have school stuff on Weds. nights so I guess I’ll just see Mom for ≤ 90 minutes on Weds.
Me (to ex): Kid “has winter guard practice on Weds. nights for some period of time. I don’t know how long it lasts. We are open to switching your night to Tuesday or Thursday for the duration. I assume you still don’t want Fridays. Let me know.”
Ex: “I plan to keep Wednesday as is. [Kid] will come after school & I can take [Kid] to school when [Kid] has practice. You can pick [Kid] up from school when practice is over.”
Ex (to Kid): That parent meeting you gave me the FYI about? That’s your dad’s responsibility
Translation: I don’t even want the time I asked for 18 months ago. Also, I don’t want to have to give [Kid] a ride home from a school thing that starts on on my time ever.
Me: You owe half the fee, too.
Ex: Fuck you, man. I won’t pay to support my kid AND pay 1/2 [Kid’s] school expenses.
Translation: It’s all about the money now. Yeah, I’m still kind of fond of [Kid] and all, but not so much that I want [Kid] around more, or that I will support [Kid] above and beyond, especially if I can make it about why Dad’s an asshole and I’m the victim here and no we haven’t gone to Boston Market since [Kid] moved away from “home” and left me and…
Eight and a half years ago, I started this den of loons. I had had web pages over the years before, but there was this new, stupidly named thing called a blog, and I thought, “what the fuck?” I needed a place to dump my brain. I needed a place with more permanence than Facebook and other yet-to-be-invented bullshit.
And, I needed a refuge for myself.
On the surface, I was living the American dream: married, good job, house, two new cars, two kids, a dog, some fish and a couple of lizards.
Underneath, not so much: Frozen out in the bedroom since 2002. Same goddamn Jeannie ponytail hairstyle every day for more than a year at that point. Critters? Wholly my responsibility. Kids? Mine to deal with if they wouldn’t park themselves in front of the TV or play in their rooms. Online poker for pretend money waits for no one, after all.
The Court said not so fast. The ex said ok to $xxx a month, but pay your half. Half the trip to San Diego. Half the trip to Boston.
August this year, we fix some of the bullshit. Wife can pay me to be the dad, and can lie and BS her way to a discount. But what about the extras, like a trip to SFO? “Not my problem – the trip is optional. I’m paying you 5.5 times what you paid me, so take it out of there.” (it’s 2.8x, but only because wife agreed in 2005 and NEVER asked to adjust the number.)
In other words, “fuck you daughter. I would rather be a bitch to your Dad than help you make a dream trip come true. It doesn’t matter what Dad did on top of child support. It doesn’t matter that i had a chance to negotiate a lower number, but it was more fun to be a bitch then and a martyr when the Court orders what Dad proposed in the first place. Woe is me.”
I’m left to wonder – what’s another word for petty shortsighted bitch. My daughter has a few suggestions. I’m lucky this place is still here for me to vent.
Sorry. No names, to protect my ass from getting sanctioned. It goes a little bit like this:
Me: This “marriage” is a fail. Sorry. So long and thanks for all the fish.
Her: I’ll take the kids and your check. You keep the house because it costs more. You keep the critters, because they cost more. And require attention. And your student loans. And the kids’ insurance. Because Fuck you, Man.
Kid 2: Home Sweet Home is with pops, if that’s ok. He doesn’t ask me to lie to the other parent, or make me feel like I’m second class.
Me: If you’re sure this is what you want.
Me: Keep the check until we see if this is a go.
Her: Hell yeah i will. (And i will let kid 1 fuck in my house and rant about what an ass dad is for brainwashing kid 2 and whatever other bullshit i can think of, because Fuck you, Man)
Me: This money stuff is BS. Each pays for the kid in their house.
Her: OK, but I don’t want to pay any insurance for kid 2, and I should only have to pay 1/2 of my 1/2 of kid 1’s insurance.
New Judge : Fuck you, Man. You’ll get nothing and like it. Or we can come back in a month or two after you undergo a financial cavity search.
Me: Fair and balanced, just like Fox News. Thanks! (NOT) Writing off $40/mo. (which should be $72) for a year beats doing this bullshit again. Fuck you, Man gets old.
Me: Kid 1 is 18 at the end of the month. Kid 2 is on my watch full time. Start writing that check.
Her: I’ll give her an allowance.
Me: Try again.
Judge: This is an important issue warranting prompt attention. We’ll see you all in August. By “we,” I mean someone else. (Fuck you, Man.)
Me: These are the numbers
Court mediator: We split that insurance # in half, since you have two kids.
Me: The marginal cost of kid 1 is zero.
Court mediator: So? We still split it.
Me: So if I want credit for the full cost of kid 2’s insurance, I would have to kick kid 1 off the policy?
Court mediator: Yeah, because poor mom, being asked to pay her share of the actual amount. Where’s your sympathy, Mr. Child support/vacations/insurance for 6 years? (Fuck you, Man.)
This is the part where mom says “Fuck you, Man. Take the allowance, or I will sue you for fraud and back support. I knew the number was $400+ before adjustments for time 7 years ago. You told me the number, after conservative to wildly optimistic adjustments, was somewhere between $18 and $400, depending on how much of a fight we had. We settled for somewhere in the middle. I never double checked the math. I nver asked for an adjustment. Whoops, your fault! (Fuck you, Man.)”
Pro tem commissioner: I hate men.
Her: Waaah! He’s had the same job for 10 years , but does not have an equity interest and has the same salary.
Me: I needed this job because parenting time was based on weekends off like no other similar place will give me.
Pro tem commissioner: You are a jerk for remaining employed at the same place and being available nights and weekends for your child. I am going to pull a number out of ex’s ass for what you should earn at a place where you are not employed. Kid 2 does not need you hanging around making sure she’s not fucking a boy in your house while you’re at work, since that worked so well at moms with kid1. I demand that you be treated like you magically got a $40,000 per year raise, because fuck you, man.
Me: Hey judge, what about the 3 or 4 months that weren’t addressed in the order. It needs to be addressed, but wasn’t in the order.
Her: i have no opinion/objection or comment on anything whatsoever.
Rules: Failure to object usually equals win for the other side. Nice work.
Karma: Unless you’re the man. You know what’s coming…
Commissioner: Hi, I am the fourth woman to weigh in on this in the last 12 months. A: Fuck you, Man. B: I won’t explain what we should do about the money you’re owed for those months, because we didn’t address it in the order. C: The other three say Fuck you, Man, as well. So there’s that.
Me: So i have to sue her again to get her to live up to her responsibilities? She gets to tell kid1 what a bastard I continue to be? She gets to drive the wedge deeper?
Karma: pretty much. SSDD. Fuck you, Man.
A million years ago, my Hyundai was a piece of shit, and the wife wanted a minivan. A $27,000 7 passenger minivan. Why that one? Because the second row had built in booster seats. Any van could have managed the soccer mom, grocery getter jobs, but we needed a palatial stretch with painted bumpers and a useless spoiler in order to get the bucket seats that folded down into boosters, so that kid 2 didn’t need a separate booster seat.
(Yes, I went along with this bullshit. Mea culpa. I didn’t do the math and I hoped to get laid out of the deal.
Karma: What a shock.
Or at least rank higher than the kids.) Continue reading “Life imitates… life?”
Destruct sequence 1, code 1, 1A
Destruct sequence 2, code 1, 1A, 2B
Destruct sequence 3, code 1B, 2B, 3
Code 0 0 0, destruct 0
The first four texts when the ban went to the honor system. Evidently.
Wife: I hate this car – it’s old.
Wife: We could get a minivan.
Wife: Here’s a minivan with built in booster seats so Kid # 2 doesn’t inconvenience us with moving the booster from one car to the other. It’s only $10,000 more than the base model and only $15,000 more than a year old used one.
Car Salesman: You can lease it for three years @ $479 a month!
Me: *maybe I’ll get laid out of this*
Pops remains proud.
Somewhere around 1970.