Golden Daemon 2012 Silver Medal SilverTabby

Not the face!!!

Picture if you will a man and a woman, sitting in the comfort of their own home just after the end of a long work week. It’s Friday, they are ready to relax and enjoy the fruits of a well deserved weekend. Suddenly, there comes a knock on the door and a ring at the bell. They’ve just entered…

The Process Server Zone!

As a rule, and everyone who knows us knows this, we don’t just answer the door or pick up the phone simply because a bell rings. Seriously, in every movie people hop up off the can, stop having sex and generally disrupt whatever they are doing to handle these interruptions. I know in movies it’s a plot mechanic, but every time I still have to say, “WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?” So naturally, the knock at the door didn’t phase us at all. Nobody should be knocking on my door at 6:45p on a Friday. When they insistently knocked and rang the bell, sending felines frantically fleeing in the process, we were like “WTF?!?!” Luna’s twitch kicked in and on a gut reaction she checked the court files on the internet…

Sure enough, fucking baby-mama had filed for a court date to get more child support. In all fairness, this isn’t surprising and we are always waiting for that shoe to drop. When it finally does, dropping from a great height onto your nut-sack as you lay slumbering, the effect is no less sickening. The circumstances surrounding the birth of my bastard is a wholly different story, as are my future rants about the arbitrary amounts of child support enforced by various states. No, today I’d like to rant specifically about the irony of being ‘off the grid‘ and ‘on the dole‘.

In the process of trying to iron out this financial wrinkle to the least detrimental impact, we learn that baby-mama & bastard are participating in a few public assistance programs for nutrition, health care, etc. We further learn that since being severed from extremely gainful employment, their financial situation has been most dire as self-employment for her 2 businesses  isn’t showing any profitability and what conventional employment she has engaged in has been part time and equally fruitless. I’m sorry to say, but even a cursory glance of the tax records showcased a number of incongruities in what was being claimed as income. Of course, at the end of the day, if a judge doesn’t see those incongruities and the disparity of income is significant, she gets a free ride and I take it up the ass. So, we do what we can to keep the fingers in the dam without the judge. This means filing an agreement wherein both parties must sign before a deputy clerk.

Make no bones about it, that woman and I do NOT get along. She has a penchant for manipulating people and circumstances to suit her personal desires, often convincing them that what she THINKS is what they ought to want/need/do. Still, I played nice, hoping to get out of this losing only slightly less than a pound of flesh. This meant spending a bit of face time before & after signing the papers. During this interaction, I learn that she has no intention of ever returning to her former means of gainful employment. Furthermore, she specifically wishes to remove herself from the tax paying citizenry, or more to the point, she doesn’t wish to earn enough to have to pay real taxes and where possible take payment in cash. She’s packing up the bastard and moving to a pleasant countryside location to live with a friend who is ‘off the grid’. My assumption is that she will again request public assistance once she arrives. Thus, ’off the grid‘ and ‘on the dole‘.

For those who don’t know, I pay the taxes on MY income which I then give to her as Child Support. She doesn’t even have to declare it as income. Neither do I get to declare these payments in such a way as to keep my tax burden reasonable. So it would appear that her intent was to take my free money and use mine and your tax dollars to fund her little experiment. She’s also planning on declaring bankruptcy to eliminate the lion’s share of her debt, (again, another form of public assistance in debt forgiveness). So she DOESN’T want to pay taxes, but she DOES want to benefit from the services that other’s taxes provide? Furthermore, we still don’t fully understand or appreciate how the funds I am required to pay by court order may actually benefit the child in question. If the child goes to public school, then more tax dollars are at work for education. If not, then she is only being set up to become another drain on the public trough.

At present I am utterly fuming over this revelation. As a rule I’m extremely leftist. I firmly believe that the basic requirements for survival and prosperity should not be beyond the reach of the common citizenry: home, clothing, food, education. I also believe that citizens owe a debt to the gov’t which provides for them. However, that’s the utopian ideal. In reality, humans are vain, selfish, greedy, ignorant creatures who look for any means to get ahead of their neighbor and rarely offer anything without expecting payment in return. So here I am, out more money per month than I was only a week ago, utterly disrupted in my own financial plan, knowing full well that am I paying directly and indirectly to help subsist baby-mama’s ’off the grid‘/’on the dole‘ lifestyle.

Thanks for everything…

 
Oberon in da sink!

Sink, not swim!

It has been a tumultuous year thus far. I’ve been meaning to write this for some time, but I am quite frankly exhausted. Every spare ounce of energy is used to curl up in Luna’s arms, love on our furry babies, plunge a virtual lightsaber through someone’s digital guts or to see the bottom of the next bottle. Let’s recap 2012 to date…

The year began much as it always has with opening day of the Arizona Renaissance Festival serving as my official birthday gathering. From here we had the most insane Feb/Mar as both of our jobs went completely off the hook. Luna had her annual trade show travel with not even a day’s rest after as we then had to fly to a wedding weekend in Monterey, CA. Shortly after returning from that we hosted dear friends in our home for a long weekend. Bidding them adieu, we hoped to settle in for a brief respite. It was at this time that I developed the first symptoms of Pityriasis Rosea. Despite an initial diagnosis as jock itch, this harmless yet virtually unknown skin condition is only just now abating after 12 weeks of itchy hell. During that time we were also forced to deal with the loss of our beloved Portia, which I have written about. Luna’s birthday and our annual Beltane gathering were affected, but we soldiered on gathering solace amongst our dearest friends. No sooner than we had come to grips with mourning her when we were again thrust into the veterinary maelstorm again with Oberon.

Obie began acting erratic, which we attributed to the loss of his sister. We were still coming to terms with the changes in the household, (eating, litter box, etc), so it was difficult to tell. His litter box behaviour had become quite strange and we had only begun researching possible issues. In denial that anyone else in the household might be sick, we ended up taking Oberon into the emergency vet a month & a day after Portia’s death. 01Jun found us sitting in a room being told our son had a blocked urethra and possible bladder stones. Urinary tract health is a critical issue for boy cats and a blockage can lead to death in as little as 72 hours. Catheterized, we learned that Oberon has an extremely small urethra, required surgery to remove several bladder stones.  A week of segregation from Aja & Rhu followed, with one filthy Obie, Luna & I cooped up in the master bedroom with food and litter box. It took time to integrate the babies again as Oberon reeked of surgery, pain and fear. His pain meds made him both paranoid and psychotically loving. Once off the pain meds, we had an incident where he attempted to cough up a hairball and suffered great pain. Imagine having surgery where your abdomen is cut from sternum to crotch and after barely a week of recovery you had violent, abdominal seizures. It was one of the most frightening experiences we’ve ever had to endure. With the lad recovered, Obie now has to be on medicated food and bottled water for the rest of his life to manage the formation of struvite crystals in his urine. Our feline food bill quadrupled overnight and the rank odour of wet food is a source of daily joy each morning. Still, he is healthy and actually quite peppy and energetic. New games have been developed which he relishes, playing a form of volleyball or basketball rebounding with us as often as he can.

It’s July now and we just hosted my parents for the weekend as well as an evening with one of Luna’s friends from New Hampshire. I have since learned that my Vit D count is exceedingly low, less than half of expected, and my blood sugar is higher than expected. These things together put me on the watch list for diabetes, but if I get some sun and some exercise and lowers the sugars, (note: booze is a sugar, fuck that!), then all should be right in my world. We have a dear friend who is diabetic and though we lover her, I have no desire to be playing on her team. So, diet is changing and the doc wants to see my blood every 3 months to see if it’s getting back on track. Yaay.

Work is STILL totally our of control with no signs of relief. And we have our trip to new England in the fall, another wedding to attend, (more on this shortly), and of course our own anniversary all before we reach the holidays again. I find it disheartening that in the 3rd week of July I scan out over the next 5 months in my mind’s eye and grow exhausted at the mere thought of them. Still, the fight of a proper New England fall combined with two October celebrations should be occasion to rejoice, regardless of how difficult the time between now and then will be. So, until I have happier news to report, I’ll sign off on the last 7 months for now and think positive thoughts for the remainder of the year.

Cheers…

 

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