Jump to content

Capulet

Member
  • Content count

    1,256
  • Joined

  • Last visited

About Capulet

  • Rank
    It takes more effort to hate than it does to love.

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Female
  • Location
    USA

Previous Fields

  • MembershipType
    Survivor

Contact Methods

  • Website URL
    http://
  • ICQ
    0

Recent Profile Visitors

1,322 profile views
  1. Newcomer here

    Hi Laura! Your tattoo is gorgeous, I love the teal colors! So...I want to welcome you to AfterSilence, I hope that being here brings you some peace and comfort. This is a great place filled with supportive folks in the same boat, we're all in different points in our healing journey, but most of us can relate in many ways. Take good care, Capulet
  2. ...not to my fiancee, of course!!! Guys, I'm not that kind of girl. Never have been and never will be. I've been cheated on (likely by the wasband, and likely by other guys that I dated before I married him. One girl I dated briefly (for a few weeks) cheated on me...with a man, no less. Imagine that?! Either way, unfaithfulness and I do not get along. I've no respect for unfaithful partners, the heartbreak they cause and the re-building of trust that is required afterwards - nope, it's not a road I ever want to go down, nor would I want to go down with anyone who was unfaithful to me. Because really, that's a deal-breaker. My lovely wifey and I strongly agree on this, it's a hundred percent over if either one of us were to stray. I'm sure that a lot of why we both feel this way has to do with both of us having endured abusive relationships in the past. So why the (clickbait) title? Well... Last week, I was unfaithful to my diet. I admit it. I'm holding myself accountable to you all. I'm writing this for a couple of reasons. First off, I want to be able to come back to this whenever I feel the 'ah, screw its,' because a (small) setback like this one is likely to make anyone think that. I'm still over the 20-pound mark, but now it's going to be a little bit longer to get to the 25-pound mark, which I'd been hoping for. I got on the scale on Monday, my usual weigh-in day. And yes, this is a big part of the reason I didn't update right away. I gained one stinking pound. 1.1 to be exact. After I kicked and screamed at the scale (half expecting it to scream back at me, "What the hell do you expect??? Do you know what the hell you ate this week?!") I rang Oompa to share the verdict. "Do you know why?" Was all she said. My mother's had her own ups and downs, if anyone were to understand the frustrations of dieting, it's my mother. She's been on a diet for as long as I've known her. Let's see. Monday, I want to say I ate normally, eggs for breakfast, chicken for supper. Tuesday, we had pasta with homemade alfredo sauce (I was sure to use the cream of mushroom in a can rather than buy the store brand jarred alfredo sauce). Wednesday, I made a pulled pork in the crock-pot and served them on rolls that weren't necessarily the healthy type. Thursday, we had chinese take-out because the kids begged me not to make anything to do with chicken. I guess I can't blame them - they've had enough at this point. And so, the Son requested I make different things this past week, and I obliged. And I also indulged. My portion sizes weren't enormous; I can't eat as much as I used to. However, I still ate mindlessly, without measuring, without being strict with myself, without cutting myself off when I'd eaten enough, regardless of whether I was still hungry. On Friday, the wifey had a medical procedure done (more on that another time) and wanted a cheesesteak with fries afterwards. I didn't eat the cheesesteak, but I ordered a chicken parm hero - when they handed me my plate, I think I might have said 'sweet Jesus' a little too loudly. Suffice to say, I ate about 1/4 of that hero - brought the rest home where the kids devoured my leftovers. Then on Saturday, we went to my nephew's birthday party and I ate two slices of buffalo chicken pizza. Then I've got to consider the nights I had (fat-free but not point-free) popcorn for a snack. I didn't track ANY of these foods - but I don't blame my weight gain on that. I haven't been tracking via electronic app for weeks, because I was eating all of the same things and it got too easy not to write it all down. Here's what happened. Like the kids, I got bored with the same ol' and I gave myself a little too much slack last week. Lesson learned! And yes, guys, I know - it's only one pound. I do know I could have done a lot worse than that. This brings me to the second reason I'm writing this and sharing here. I need to convince myself, too, that it's not the end of the world. Maybe I just didn't drink enough water and maybe retention is part of the problem. And I know I COULD HAVE done a whole lot worse. I was not strict with myself, but a part of me WAS careful and a part of me was doing some damage control - I think the numbers on the scale could have been a lot more grave. So, while I'm annoyed with myself for not taking care and losing that pound rather than gaining it, I have to remember to also commend myself for having a degree of self-control and minimizing the damage. And now, I must go on. I told Oompa I certainly did know what I did wrong. There was just too much, so I didn't give her any details. Not only did I go over my allotted points for each day, I was sure I surpassed my weeklies, too. Interestingly enough, I won't admit these little menu details to Oompa. I don't know why - like I said, my mother likely would understand anything I had to say about diets. Maybe it's because for years and years, I rolled my eyes at her and made fun of her measuring cups and spoons and recipes...I can't tell you how many times she served me something that looked like cat puke....being a mediocre cook to begin with, her "diet" foods weren't appealing, either. God, I can't begin to explain why I hear her voice CONSTANTLY when I'm going down the food aisles at Wal-Mart. "That there, you mix it with this here, and it's three points," etc. Whenever I see the words on the app - I hear her voice. "Two points." "Zero points." "Points, points, POINTS." And I'm hearing impaired, explain that!? She's never scolded me for my dieting snafus. The last thing she said to me before I hung up with her on Monday was, "It's all good. Just keep going." But I've got no problem with admitting it to you guys. No one here knows me from a hole in the wall, and yet, sharing little things online has always been far more comfortable to me than sharing in person with someone who knows me. Someone who can see me. Tell me I'm not the only one? So, yeah. I failed miserably last week, but I'm going to try to get back on track this week. I'm going to get back into my app and starting tomorrow, pay better attention to what I eat. I did make a lovely bean soup with white meat chicken on Monday. Today, I had balsamic chicken with roasted potatoes and vegetables. Tomorrow, J will be making pasta with meatballs, but I am going to measure what I eat. And I'm going to be downing the water. I wanted my popcorn snack while watching the baseball game tonight, but I decided against it. It's all I can do, really. These little things. Hoping to have better news for you all next week. To myself...I'm sorry. I screwed up. I'm going to make it right. To the scale - screw you. I'm coming back next week, and I'm owning you! - Capulet
  3. New Girl

    Hi Indyrex, and welcome to AS! I hope being here brings you peace and comfort! I hope you'll find this is a very supportive place to be; many of us are in the same boat and the outpouring of support can be exactly what someone needs in order to proceed on their healing journey. Take good care, Capulet
  4. Hello, hi, hola....shouting out to you all on this very dreary Sunday afternoon - however, the New York Mets' 12-2 start to the 2018 baseball season has me smiling even if the weather is not. At least it's not snow, right? Happy to report that we haven't seen any of that in over two weeks. Looks like spring has finally sprung and the underboob sweating and rash season is upon us all! (If you're a woman, you'll definitely understand this.) J is already trying to convince me to install the air-conditioners but I feel that it's still too early for this. I have, though, agreed to let her put the ceiling fan on at night. Aren't I a doll? I do have some life updates, though. Not many, but some. The daughter's "boyfriend" (yes, you may picture me with the quotations again!) is now just her friend. Apparently, she made the mistake of telling her father about her "boyfriend" during one of their (usually chaotic) dinner conversations and he immediately insisted that she 'downgrade' their relationship to just 'friends.'' I have to say that I'm not upset about this. She did her share of pouting over it, but now that the heartbreak is over, she's back to face-timing and chatting with him, same thing she was doing when he was her "boyfriend." When I say she should just be friends, I get an argument, when he says she's going to just be friends with him, she complies without hesitation. Go figure. On the same topic of my daughter, she's now "friendly" with that snooty problem child that she's been having issues with since the start of this school year. So, I'm sure this means there will continue to be drama. It just seems drama FOLLOWS this kid around. I try to avoid it at all costs; I LOATHE drama and I just don't have the patience for it. One of my baby nieces had a hospital stay over the weekend. She was admitted on Friday night with a fever and pneumonia. My niece is the only child of two medical professionals, so I'm guessing there is never a shortage of germs in the house. My brother-in-law is a Pediatric Dentist and constantly has his hands inside the mouths of germy children and my sister is a Physician's Assistant and works at a hospital. (Ironically the same hospital my niece was born in and spent the weekend in.) Fortunately, she had two days of IV antibiotics and she's hopefully going home today. Saw my nephew and my other infant niece yesterday, at his birthday celebration. Was nice. Of course, now I see less and less of Oompa; but in a way, that's also an equivalent of a drama-free visit. My mother certainly has her hands full now, with the "younger" grandchildren, and my daughter has resorted to eye-rolling at the mention of anyone in my family, not limited to Oompa. She's in general annoyed with my mother, because Oompa doesn't see much of her (or any of us) anymore. It's not entirely my mother's fault, because we DID move two hours away from the rest of them, but a large part of her absence these days is due to the arrival of my two new nieces. My sister who is a PA enlists in Grandma's Babysitting Service two to three days a week and whenever she's not with that sister, she's with the other one. Doesn't leave much time for her to spend with us. So the daughter is in part, jealous, but she's also UIW (Under the Influence of the Wasband) and a lot of damage has been done because of his mouth. He makes a career out of saying that she is "dividing" our family, giving the ones who live closer priority. I know, this is not fair at all, but I'm tired, I've no longer got the energy to combat the bullshit that comes out of his mouth. And so whenever I see him during a kid swap, a quick hello and goodbye is best. My children are far too impressionable and they unfortunately adopt HIS unreasonable way of thinking more often than they make decisions on their own. This isn't an update; it's something I've known for too long a time, now, and something I don't have a clue how to fix. Little side note: it's taking me a very long time to type this. I have a cat who insists that I don't give him enough attention during the course of one day. He's being very demanding and whenever I look busy, he jumps onto my keyboard and insists I drop whatever I am doing until he's finished rubbing his (adorable) face against mine. I'm almost down a total of 24 pounds, will have a more accurate number in the morning. Being Sunday night, it's nearly time for me to take my weekly laxative/cleanse pill before the morning weigh-in. I will be doing that soon, then will watch the Walking Dead with some bathroom pauses, thank heaven for TiVo. For a little while, we're finished with Friday night bowling. We didn't do as well as we'd hoped, but there's always next year. We will just be bowling on Mondays for now, until that league ends and we start summer bowling. One night a week for the summer; we've got some mini-plans and both my kids have birthdays over the summer, as well as my son's high school graduation being right around the corner (yes, NOW I feel old!) which means at least three backyard parties are in my future... Leading me to the last thing I'll mention for now - my need to clean up/beautify my back yard. The people who lived here before us had a pool. They apparently took out the pool (we never saw it), leaving us with a bunch of rotted wood that was built into the ground (it bordered the area that used to be the pool) as well as a lot of areas in the yard that are lopsided or otherwise uneven, terrain-wise. I just dropped a little over a grand to have the tree people come cut down some trees that were dangerously close to the house as well as pull up these unnecessary slabs of wood that are no longer purposeful, then they removed a bunch of other debris from the yard and used their Caterpillar to try and flatten the terrain out some, but it still needs more work before I can consider hosting any parties in the near future. Soon as it gets a little warmer (today was in the 40's) I will be out there trying to finish the job and will soon be seeing about some grass acquisition. Right now, the yard is nothing to look at - there is a little fire pit off to the side, but the rest of it is a beige rock and dirt mess. Anddddd that's it. In a way, I'm guessing it's a good thing that I don't have much to report. Whether that means life is going well or it means I'm just boring right now is debatable. I guess this makes me human, we all have our boring moments, right? Right? Hoping everyone else's life is boring right now, too. Sometimes no big developments are enough to call it good news. - Capulet
  5. Hello! Today, I come to you all humbled, because I have no idea how to handle the Jekyll and Hyde type individual that is my soon-to-be 12 year old daughter. Last week, she came to me with a smirk on her face saying that there's a boy at school that she's now calling her 'boyfriend.' At the time, it was 'hush-hush,' meaning she didn't want me to share this information with her father. It's not information I think needs to be shared right now, so I said nothing to him about this kid. I did see texts from this aforementioned boy, and he's sending her little heart and rose emojis and being all sweet, to me it looks like puppy love and it's seemingly harmless. Additionally, my daughter's lock screen on her phone has his picture on it. I inquired as to what made him her boyfriend at this point. She said they're 'dating.' "Oh, really?" I asked her, "So, he came by on his bicycle to pick you up, then you went to a Disney movie together?" I'm trying to think of what exactly two eleven-year-olds consider to be a 'date,' considering neither one of them has a penny to their names. "No," (and she added a little eye-roll in there) "We're together at school." "Oh, so you two share a smooch in between classes?" "Ewww, MOM!" I have to say I was relieved when she acted appalled at the last question, but then asked her if she was getting confused between friendship/crushes and a boyfriend, and she says she's not and insists upon labeling him her 'boyfriend,' possibly because, apparently, it's what's cool in middle school. She talks about her friends having their own boyfriends, so I know it's something that is somewhat inspired by peer pressure rather than on her hormones. In school, she's mature and she wants to be on the same level as her 'mature' friends. On one hand, it's good that she and her 'boyfriend' are the same age and in the same grade, and if this blossoms into something a little bit more certain in a couple of years, then I'll begin to worry about the other little things and I'm sure the wasband will be inviting him over to come see his shotgun collection. Right now, I feel as if I have other things to worry about. Like my daughter's re-occuring propensity for childish behavior. On one hand, she likes to feel grown-up...the 'boyfriend' is just one little change; she's also been asking me to have her hair highlighted and she occasionally wants to get acrylic nails. Then other times, I catch her doing childish things and feel she's in need of the same type of reprimanding you'd give a toddler. So, this next thing I'm going to mention also happened last week; although a couple days AFTER she came to me to tell me about her 'boyfriend.' She was in our family room playing video games, with her homemade slime and with her phone and iPad at the same time. (I do think she's undiagnosed attention-deficit-disorder because she can NEVER just focus on one thing. Even when she's doing homework, she has to have a million things going on at the same time. It makes for a good future multitasker, but right now, it's not doing her any favors.) So, she's got all her things out on the couch next to her, she might have also had a snack and drink in front of her. I know there was also a pillow that may or may not have had a small hole in it before she started playing with that, too, but when I went down to check on her, I found her amidst a conversation with the 'boyfriend,' slime in her hands, game controller sitting idle on her lap, crumbs on the floor and feathers from the pillow scattered all over the floor in front of her. "What the holy hell happened in here...???" "What, the feathers?" "YES, the feathers!" "Oh, they just fell out of the pillow." I can't...I just can't. I wasn't buying it. Feathers don't wiggle their way out of pillows. Nope. I deduced that she was pulling them out, one by one, because for some reason, doing so fascinated her more than any of the other wonderful things that she had in front of her. I called bullshit on them feathers jumping out of the pillow unassisted and said a whole bunch of things at that moment, but long story short, I told her that I expected it cleaned up before she left to go to the wasband's for the next few days. She said she would. She got picked up on Saturday afternoon, this was the day after she made the mess. Side note, I'm sure you're all asking - why didn't I go check to make sure? Simply because I made the mistake of thinking that her age meant she was mature enough to do what she was told? Well, lesson learned. Sunday, I went downstairs to fetch a new battery for my XBOX controller. I had to go through the family room in order to find the Double A's in the garage and when I did, I saw that there were STILL feathers scattered about the floor. Still a container of slime (thank GOD it was closed) on the couch. Still the empty water bottle in the cup holder. Oh, and about the feathers...there weren't that many of them out in the open, leading me to believe she DID attempt to clean up her mess, she just hadn't gotten around to putting the slime away, right? Nope. Already slightly pissed off that she didn't clean up 'properly,' I grabbed the nearby broom so that I could finish the job. She's 11, I'm telling myself. I can't expect her to clean the way I would clean. I'm putting the bar too high. At least she swept up most of the feathers, the reason I'd gotten annoyed with her in the first place is because I KNEW I was going to have to 'finish' her cleaning job. Just like when I ask the Son to clean something, I ALWAYS end up in there after him, getting places he missed or just plain ignored. That's the deal when you have kids...you make them clean up their messes when they're old enough to do so, and even so, that Mommy instinct goes in when they're not looking and you re-clean. It's a way of life for me. I don't know if it's because of my existing OCD but either way, at this point, it's expected. As a result, I never ask them to clean too much - why bother? I end up fixing it, anyway! When I went to sweep up whatever was left on the floor, I discovered that there was already a PILE of feathers BEHIND the TV stand. It literally looked as if she'd swept the feathers and rather than sweeping them under the rug, she accumulated them all behind the TV stand hoping that I wouldn't find them there and accuse her of a job NOT well done. I flung the broom, narrowly missing a cat. (He's fine, he was just startled.) Out came my phone, and I texted her, making sure not to make any spelling errors: "Explain to me why it looks like a chicken exploded behind the TV in the family room?" I get back multiple emojis symbolizing that she's laughing/crying. "THIS IS NOT FUNNY NOR COOL!" I texted back to her. "Oooops. Sorry," she texts back. My OCD kicks in again. I could very well have waited for her to come home (tonight) and made her pick each and every one of those frigging feathers up. With chopsticks, if I wanted to be difficult and serve up a side order of payback. Or I could have gotten into the car, driven to the wasband's house, picked her up, made her clean up in the above described fashion, then brought her back over there to finish out her time with him. That's just even more work on my part than just the usual 're-clean.' I could have done either one of those things, but no. I couldn't have those feathers there for even a minute longer, especially in an area where various electronics are plugged in. So I swept up and disposed of the feathers, all while thinking of what I could possibly do to inspire her to grow up. And, by 'grow up'...I don't mean in the sense that I don't want her to be my little girl anymore, that's always going to be something that won't change. The Son is looking more and more hairy as he approaches 18. His voice is deep, he's driving, he's heading off to college in September and when I look at him, all I see are his baby-faced pictures and thats' usually all it takes for me to get nostalgic. Same for her. Only problem is, she's STILL acting as if she's five years old, and her recent redecorating with feathers is just the last straw for me. I'm partially responsible, for not monitoring her every move, but in my defense - she's almost 12. Why would I have any reason to believe that a 12-year-old had to be watched while playing video games? But as I said before, lesson learned. I spoke to her again last night about it, after I'd had a chance to calm down and process further what she'd done...and asked her why she'd swept the feathers behind the TV stand. Her response? "Because I didn't want to clean it." I informed her that she'd already done most of the 'cleaning;' it takes the same amount of effort to sweep the feathers into a damn dustpan and then empty the dustpan into the trash than it does to put them in a neat little pile behind the TV for me to find and have a fit over later. She giggled. But then I threatened to take out her baby pictures when I finally had the opportunity to meet her 'boyfriend.' (And, yes, every time I say "boyfriend" you are all free to air quote! I do.) Then her eyes got wide. "You want to have a boyfriend, you need to grow up," I told her. "You're going to be 12. Numbers go up, not down. You need to start thinking before you act, cleaning up your own messes and learn to set an example for your younger sister!" I'm REALLY hoping I don't have to have this conversation with her, again. Chances are, I will, because this is simply her Dennis the Menace personality - she once squeezed out an entire tube of my hand/body lotion into the trash can and on the bathroom walls, 'because she liked to see it all come out of the tube.' And no, she wasn't five when she did that - she was about eight or nine. NORMAL children that age simply don't do that stuff. If they do, then I do apologize for the rant and for being mistaken but something tells me I am not. I think she's, despite all of the things she has, actually BORED and she destructs rather than does things that can be seen as otherwise productive. Maybe I need to go into her room, dump a pile of feathers in the middle of her floor and when she got home, there they'd be, waiting for her to clean because I didn't want to clean them, either.... (Oh, DAMN, I should have!!!! WHY do I think of these things AFTER the fact??) But that's what I'll be doing from now on, it's time to give this kid a taste of her own medicine. Hope everyone's day is going well. By the way, new total for this week - 22.7 pounds gone. I feel great, I am less hungry, I have more energy. Looking forward to warmer, sunny days, so I can work on exercising outside more with Dennis, errr....I mean, the Daughter...she's going to try out for the 7th grade basketball team for next year, and I'm sure hoping this will distract her from some of the unfavorable behaviors she's been exhibiting. We love our basketball hoop, which will be accessible again after tomorrow - Winter Storm Riley decided to droop a tree branch in front of where the hoop is, so a guy from the tree company is coming tomorrow to properly detach the entire branch. Meanwhile, I'm locking up the rest of the throw pillows until further notice. - Capulet
  6. Hello all, Apologies for not having been around lately. I'm still here at least once a day; checking boards and my inbox, in case anyone's said 'hello.' (hint, hint.) So, I do have a few updates for you all. I won't get into too many of the weight loss details, but that's still ongoing, I've dropped 20 pounds and there's still quite a way to go! But being able to bend and cut my toenails without looking like a circus contortionist is fantastic! Oh, and I can finally fit inside a regular-sized bathroom stall and I don't have to wait for the 'handicap accessible' stall...you guys know what I mean, the biggest stall that you can find in almost every bathroom. Mind y'all, I always could 'fit' into those half-stalls, but man, twisting and turning to take care of/clean/wipe certain areas wasn't an easy feat... On that topic, I haven't bought new clothes yet. My old clothes are starting to get baggy on me, which is a nice thing to see but pretty soon, I'm going to have to get things a size or two smaller. I started with underwear last week and am loving my new granny panties! (I'll always still wear full briefs, I don't think any weight loss is going to change my attitude regarding the butt floss some people prefer - I'm going to be 40 this year, that butt-floss ship has sailed)... I also bought myself a new XBOX with my birthday money. My birthday was months ago, but my old XBOX decided that it didn't want to recognize wireless connections anymore. So my son called Microsoft to attempt to troubleshoot, but the fella on the other end had him reset the console to factory settings (basically wiping the whole thing out) in attempts to fix the problem. All that did was render the console obsolete because in order to re-install games onto it, we have to have an internet connection. They wanted me to pay $135 to have it fixed, so I just surrendered my birthday money, plus a little extra toward a brand-spanking-new XBOX. And for the last several days, I've been playing GTA V. (If you think I have a potty mouth, you should hear the language coming from THAT game!) Okay - moving along... Most of you know that I have a problem with religion. I don't understand it. To me, it's just a set of rules that apply to only a select/elite group of people who believe they're right about whatever it is they believe is going to happen to us all when we leave this world. Did you know? The Catholics are right about theirs, the Jews are right about theirs, the Christians, Buddhists, Islamics, Hindus, Slavs, etc are all right, too. Here's my thinking - we're all headed to the same place after we depart this one, and EVERYONE can't be right! If you ask me, I think the Atheists are right - you just gotta be a good person, the best kind of person you can be, and you're golden. Sticking with that. So, holidays in general, especially the religion-based ones, are very rarely seen by me as anything other than an opportunity to enjoy some good food and family or friends. I always end up feeling badly that I don't even think about the real reasons behind the Easter or Christmas...but then I remember that fact that no one ever feels the same about them and I don't feel so badly anymore. It seemed fitting that I'd post a little blurb here today. I woke this morning at around 9:30; I was having some weird-ass dreams. Something to do with one of the past Hell's Kitchen contestants trying to jack my wallet. (As if I had anything in it!) After I thoroughly checked the house for the thieving contestant and confirmed my wallet and it's contents were still in my possession, I sat down at my computer. I started thinking about how as a kid, my mother used to dress us in those god-awful Easter dresses with the equally as ridiculous bonnet/hats and we'd go to church before ending up at my grandmother's house for dinner. My grandmother wasn't the best cook. In turn, my mother isn't the best cook, either. Her forte is cookies - she does well with the holiday baking, that's something she enjoys immensely, and partially why she's always on Weight Watchers. My grandmother, though, was second generation Sicilian. (I'm not even sure I'm correct using the 'second-generation' term; what I mean by this is HER parents were born in Sicily, Italy and came to New York before she was born.) She was a gem of a women, although impoverished, had nothing and raised three children (my mother, aunt and uncle) on potatoes, eggs, and bread. She didn't know how to cook anything unless it was eggs or pasta. And when serving pasta, they had what was called Sicilian Meatballs, she used to plop peeled hard-boiled eggs into the sauce (or as she'd call it, 'gravy') and say that those were their meatballs because she couldn't afford the meat. When I was a kid, we'd have real beef meatballs, but old habits die hard. We were introduced to the hard-boiled eggs in the gravy when we were kids and every year on Easter, we'd have one meatball (a real one) and an egg in our pasta. Gravy on top. I know it sounds nasty, but when you're introduced to these "weird" eating habits as a kid, you're kind of doomed as an adult to introduce to your own family and friends these little culinary inventions. I'll never forget when my kids looked at me as if I were crazy (I KNOW I am, I left that one wide open, so...shhhh!) when I asked if they want an egg in their sauce. So I never did again. I have to also mention that whenever I try to remember holidays when I was a kid, every single memory is tarnished; he was always, ALWAYS there. My uncle, the priest. As he was my grandmother's son, it's hard to cut him out of these memories. He was always a presence; he lived in the same house. I will admit to being adequately blocked-off so much, that I didn't mind him being around. It was just a way of life at that point, an instance where I didn't have a choice. It was one of those things that couldn't be helped, because wherever Grandma was, there he was, too. In hindsight, I can certainly say I ignored the little things. He constantly smelled like sweat and rotten farts, he had that birthmark on his hand that I didn't like, little things like those were ignored because the younger version of myself simply didn't know how to express or further process my reasons for hating him. But anyway, he used to cook, (not very well, either) and since HE was a slightly better cook than his mother, our holiday dinners were hyped-up by my mother, his sister...it was usually "Uncle So-and-So is making a lamb for Easter," or "aren't we so excited to have Uncle So-and-So's turkey for Thanksgiving?" As my grandma got older and older, he took over more and more of her cooking duties until she stopped preparing food completely a year or two before she passed away. And I know I've previously mentioned that when she passed, a switch within was flipped. I realized how much I hated this man, and now I feel as if all of my previous holiday celebrations were, well...fake. I'm not even sure this makes an ounce of sense. So I'll stop here. Just because I have an issue with religion-based holidays doesn't mean that you all should, too - we have different likes and dislikes...for me, it's all about the food and the chocolate and spending time with my children and watching them eat the things they love, but for others, it's going to have a completely different meaning. I accept that and respect that. So, in closing - enjoy your day, friends! Enjoy the food, if you're partaking. Enjoy the company, if you'll be with people you love and trust. Or, enjoy yourselves if you've got plans to spend the day alone - do something wonderful for yourselves, you're worth it! Either way, enjoy today, in any way you can. XOXO - Capulet
  7. Hello!

    Hello Jo, Thank you for telling us a little bit about yourself! You sound like an amazing person and I look forward to getting to know you. Secondly, welcome to AfterSilence. I am so sorry to hear of the circumstances that have brought you here but I do hope that being here brings you some peace and comfort. You are not alone. You are among friends and many here are in the same boat as you so I am fairly certain you will find this to be an extremely supportive haven. Best wishes, Capulet
  8. @snmls, I am happy to report a lot of meltage today...looks like warmer days are coming! Yay! Spring for the win!
  9. Hi I’m new, ramble, and friendless

    Hello, @Heymehey, welcome to AS! You are among friends here, I hope being here brings you comfort as you heal from the trauma that has brought you here. Best wishes. Capulet
  10. Seriously, Elsa? After dumping a foot of snow and sending trees crashing down onto our power and cable lines two weeks ago, you're SERIOUSLY about to send us more of the powdery, annoying, pain-in-the-ass white shit we call 'snow?' Guess what??? It's SPRING. Today is the FIRST DAY OF SPRING. It is time for you, Mother Nature, to warm up to the idea of sunny and pleasant days. Pun fully intended, as I'm sitting here in a hoodie and sweat pants. Kids have missed enough school in a single winter up here than they ever did during snowstorms in New York City. The NYC mayor didn't give a shit, we'd get a foot of snow the night before and school would still be open. But now, because you're cranky, Mother Nature, there's an extra week tacked on at the end of this school year because of the shit you pulled during Winter Storm Riley. Shit that we're JUST now getting over, just in time for you to get your second wind. Enough is enough! I just went shopping too, so if you decide to render us all powerless for another several days, kindly throw a tree on the wasband's power lines instead of mine. He has a generator. He can deal with it. Chill out! (And by that, you can assume I DON'T mean send us more freakin' wintery conditions!) - Capulet
  11. Hello, friends! Sending my usual apologies for not having updated in a while. For the first time in several days, I can sincerely say we’re thawed out. The new boiler is working nicely - we now have heat and hot water in addition to the restoring of our electricity and internet. The kids went back to school this week; a lot of families in the area didn’t have power for the entire week last week following the winter storm, so the school district had some mercy on us all and closed the schools for the entire week while electric, oil, propane, cable companies all worked hard to get us all back up and running. Of course, my bank account is going to be quite sad for a while, now that we have to come up with a way of funding the new boiler, which is now on Oompa’s credit card. I may have to consider selling my eggs. I make cute kids. Anyway, amidst all this there was the usual wasband drama. We never seem to go without. We’ve gotten to the point where his name is mentioned and all eyes begin rolling. Mine, J’s and depending on how they feel about him, the kids’. I cannot express to you all enough how much misery this man puts me through. Even now, when I’m not married to him anymore and he now has a wife (his third) that he can annoy on a daily basis. He has a new wife that he can order around, a woman who once was tough but now has succumbed to his endless manipulation. No, I don’t feel bad for her, but at the same time, I do understand it all because the emotional abuse didn’t stop once the divorce papers were signed. Because we share two children in common (and that’s about all we share that matters) he still seizes any and all opportunities to remind me that he is right, he knows best, he’s never wrong, and I am one hundred percent wrong, every single time. Of course, that’s what he says initially, but after the volcano that is the wasband erupts, he cools down and somehow remembers how to talk rationally. Even then, he wastes no effort in proving why he was right in the first place. All I end up doing is nodding my head, because really, what the fuck is the point? Nothing I say is going to be right and I don’t have the energy to argue. I’m sick of seeing his pissed off face, the look of disgust when I talk to him or even try to tell him how I feel about something, the 'whatevers’ when I know I’m right and he does, too, and he just doesn’t want to give me an iota of credit. I’m so tired, guys. I’m REALLY tired. Know though, that the wasband came from a broken, abusive home and he’s been on his own since he was a teenager. Add to that he’s ex-military. By now, he’s alienated his entire family, and I do have to say that most of it was for justified reasons, but at the same time, it has destroyed him as a person. He has only the concept of his own family, everyone else’s family is irrelevant to him. I know he’s capable of being a good person when he wants to, but his need to control everything and everybody around him overshadows his finer qualities, as few of them as there are. And now, he’s managed to brainwash our children into agreeing with everything he says because they’re afraid of what he’ll say to them if they don’t. There’s so much I want to say to him, so much I want to scream at him, but I don’t because, what’s the point? He’ll come back at me with the usual belittling bullshit he’s mastered in the nearly 20 years I know him. He is truly an ugly, UGLY man, and right now I want to punch him in the face. All I can do at the moment is hope for another stent collapse in the near future because REALLY, there is nothing at all short of his passing that will free us from this man’s influence. And then there’s the subsequent feeling of guilt for having admitted that much because that’s just plain horrible of me to say. Let’s get this straight, I’ll never hate him. As much as his behavior is tedious, tiresome and unreasonable, he IS still the father of my children and he provides. And so, I often have to force myself to soothe their ruffled feathers every now and then but I’m running out of ways to do that. He doesn’t defend me to them, I’m sure. Whenever they have an issue with me, for whatever reason, they bring it to him and of course, I get lectured about it and reminded of why I’m wrong. He actually had the balls to tell me that they were losing respect for me, when ironically, their complaints about HIM have escalated in recent months. However, when they come to me with problems they have with him, we listen and shake our heads, but we certainly don’t go running back to him. We don’t get that luxury. He’d just tell us we’re wrong, so again, what’s the point? God, I absolutely hate how he is. I hate how he intimidates everyone around him, including our children. Right now my daughter is grounded from all of her electronics, TV and social media because he feels she intentionally harmed her little sister when they were roughhousing. My daughter claims and insists she didn’t mean for the little one to get hurt, but he flat-out accused her. And so, I tried not to laugh when my daughter gave my phone the finger when she saw her father’s number pop up. I spoke with the wasband over FaceTime and told him that I truly didn’t believe it was our daughter’s intent to hurt her sister, and he immediately started yelling at me and saying that by saying that, I was enabling her behavior. And so I nodded. Said, “okay.” Said nothing more for the duration of the conversation. I don’t think I heard much more of what he had to say after accusing me of enabling her bad behavior. I saw just his face get all ugly, his sneering, his lip curls. And so, like a robot, whenever he said ‘am I right?’ I would just nod. Because I’m not in the mood to carry on this conversation forever because that’s about as long as it would take for him to see anything in the same perspective as me. You see, my own brain was going a mile a minute. I know she has been acting out more than usual recently. She HAS had an attitude lately, she HAS been defiant, she HAS been different since we moved here. She’s also 11 years old, 12 in a few months. She’s expressed how much she hates it here, she’s said she misses her friends, she’s unhappy with the way she’s being treated in school. Not to mention, if she’s anything like me, her first period is likely on the horizon somewhere and she’s hormonal. I brought up all of these points to him, not only to defend her but because I truly believe that’s why she’s behaving in the manner she is. But basically, I was told to shut up and that I was allowing her to behave negatively and making excuses for her. Thank GOD I have this place to vent, because I’m beginning to reach my boiling point with him and his bullshit. He’s not only causing problems within his own relationship with our kids, but he’s also the cause of a lot of family drama and almost every issue I have with my family has to do with him in SOME way. I’m reminded of the letters my T in the past had told me to write to my abusers but never to send. He certainly qualifies as one. Last week’s events have made me think so much of what I’d want to say to him but because I’m still, to a point, afraid of what he’ll do or say in retaliation (For example, would he further brainwash my kids? Turn them against me? Fight me for custody? Make my life difficult in any and every way imaginable because he has acquired enough control over me and groomed me whilst married to him?) and so I don’t say these things. I’m quiet. I agree with him even when I truly don’t. Then when we get home, I’m pacing the floor hollering about what a jerk he is and trying to convince myself not to give a shit because I know it’s not worth pressing whatever issue it is - because I will never win. So, I’ll just say it here. I’d love to say to him - Knock it off, asshole! I’m sick and tired of being a puppet, I’m not your wife anymore, I’m nothing to you other than the mother of your children. You don’t treat ANY of your children’s mothers with the respect they deserve, not only for bearing your children but also for putting up with you and your fucking mind games for however long they did. If anything, we should be nominated for sainthood because YOU are not an easy man to be with, yet we tried our best to love you, to please you. Apparently we all failed at that, because pleasing you often means we have to sacrifice our own personal happiness because all you truly think about is your own damn self. Contrary to what you believe, you’re NOT the stand-up guy you THINK others see you as, no one will admit it to you because you’ve made everyone so afraid of you and rather than allow you to belittle them and make them feel an inch tall, the safer route is just to go along with whatever you say. But here’s the truth. No one can stand you. Everyone I’ve met has expressed a complaint about you that I’ve kept to myself out of respect for YOU. I’ve defended you for the sake of keeping the peace and in return, you continue to treat me like shit. You treat your kids like shit. You treat your current wife like shit, and like I was, she’s stuck because you’ve also alienated her family. You, sir, are going to die a miserable fucking old man with no one (except your children maybe, and that’s only because they have unconditional love for their father) to miss your militant, domineering ass. And when your kids finally give up on you and decide they’re sick of your shit, too, do NOT look to me for help because you’re on your fucking own, buddy. Just like whenever I need help with one of them, I’m on my own and then you proceed to ADD to the fucking problem rather than offer up a solution as a co-parent should. Yes, you provide, and yes, our children have clothes, food, anything they could ever want, but we need more than that. We need compassion that you’re not capable of showing, we need warmth that you’re void of as well, and we need compromise, whereas with you there is absolutely fucking NONE. I’m SICK of pretending to like you for the sake of our kids’ sanity, when in all honesty, I hate more things about you than I ever loved. In fact, I don’t understand myself for having ever married your ass. I’ll say it was temporary insanity when others ask me what the fuck I ever saw in you, but you know, when I ask myself the same question, I’m not even sure anymore. I truly believe you came along at a vulnerable point in my life and it was a time I was VERY easily manipulated and you saw an opportunity and charmed me into leaving home, moving in with you, raising your children. I THOUGHT I loved you because you, being the master of deception you are, convinced me that you would protect me, you would support me, you actually said you loved me quite a bit back then, and I responded in kind. But, truthfully, I think I was only in love with the idea of the stability you promised we’d have but we never really reached that point. We had money problems, we fought constantly, and of course, you won every single fucking argument because you would verbally batter me down to a pulp, as you continued to do even after our divorce. Thank you for that, by the way. Best fucking thing you could have ever given me aside from our perfect son and daughter. We always had chaos, I did most of the caring for the kids with little to no thanks from you verbal or otherwise. There was ONLY criticism because nothing I did ever measured up. Or it wasn’t done the way you wanted it done. Or if I were to argue with anything you said, I’d be in for a fight that lasted all week and it’d be a quarrel that I emotionally couldn’t and wouldn’t sustain, so rather than argue, I went along with every damn thing you said, even if I didn’t agree. And like a fucking asshole, I still do it, because you’ve trained me well. But I was truly MISERABLE, you asshole, and even if you did notice it, you did and said nothing about it. You’re a horrible husband…you tormented your first wife, you were horrible to me, you are currently an ogre to your wife. You're quick to call other people 'pieces of shit,' but lemme ask you, what the hell do you see when you look in the mirror??? It BAFFLES me that you don’t see what just about EVERYONE else does. But, you know, you’ll find that out when you close your eyes for the last time, most likely alone. I believe that in that moment before death, your life flashes before your eyes and I hope you finally understand the wrath you impose on the people closest to you. And I hope to hell you regret it. I hope you truly understand what people who have crossed paths with in life see when they see you. And guess what, you piece of shit? It’s going to be way too late to go back and make amends, to right all of your wrongs. You’re already nearing the point of no return with your own KIDS, how much more of your crap do you think they’re going to take?? Your way is not always the best way, and you NEED to learn to let things be, everyone would be so much happier. And hell, maybe you’ll fucking LIVE longer, too. All of the stress you claim you have (and probably blame everyone else for) is mostly brought on by your own damn self. So…wake the fuck up! Aaaaaah. To you guys, I say thanks again for hearing me rant. I’m sure there’s more that I’d love to say, no…SCREAM in his face, but this will have to do for now, as my own little inner volcano is now empty. I feel cleansed a little, maybe my former T was onto SOMETHING. And believe me, she wasn't right about everything. Going to try to turn in for now. Tomorrow (or rather, today) is a new day. Going to envision his face on my pillow and beat it up a little bit for good measure. - Capulet
  12. New to the site

    Hello, Ashley, welcome to AS! You are not alone here; we all understand the day-to-day struggles and we will support you through yours. I hope being here brings you comfort! Best wishes, Capulet
  13. Snowmageddon!

    Thanks, Free! By the way, the son calls internet in this general area, "pure crap." Unless people's personal wifi is working, and their modems/routers are provided electricity, there is absolutely no service. We are just fortunate that the fire house up the street has generators running at all times so in an emergency, we can walk up there and make calls. Thanks for the hugs. We're dealing. Trying to get back to normal.
  14. My deepest apologies to you all for being MIA; my being scarce were for reasons beyond my control. As some of you know, I live in Eastern Pennsylvania, and we have met our match in Mother Nature. Last Thursday, which will be one week since chaos had began to ensue, I took the daughter for her flu shot. You’d think spending three hours at the doctor’s office (waiting, waiting, and WAITING - this lady takes literally an hour on each patient!) would be a forewarning of the holy hell that was about to arrive, pure insanity by the name of Winter Storm Riley. After the doctor administered the flu shot + two other overdue immunizations, we asked her if there would be any side effects. To this, the doctor replied, “She may run a fever. But we’re likely to not have school tomorrow, anyway.” We look out the window. The freezing rain had begun. Now, this is a doctor whose office doesn’t even have the proper in-office apparatus to run strep or flu tests, so any throat cultures or flu swabs have to be done at another location, so that DOUBLES the waiting time in most cases. And she can’t even tell me what my kids have right then and there, I have to go to the lab, have the tests run, then go home and wait for them to call with results and a diagnosis. In what world is this even right???? On THAT, though, she was one hundred percent correct. The cancellation call arrived at night. The automated, monotonous message that my kids have grown to LOVE. “This is a call from the Blah, Blah, Blah, School District. Schools will be closed tomorrow, March 2nd, 2018 due to inclement weather.” Both of them high-fived each other. “AWESOME!” Yeah, those are my two scholars. Sadly, they both inherited my hatred for school, although the son does well without trying while the daughter, more like I did, has to work a little bit harder to get the higher grade. Anyway, we all sleep in on Friday morning, with the exception of J, who went to work for 7am. When she left, the snow had just been starting. Snow started early in the morning and accumulated quickly, along with some nasty winds that blew the snow around, making it pretty hard to see past a few feet ahead of us while standing at the front door. I managed to get ahold of the wasband via text and come to find out that his power had gone out around 11am. We stayed inside the whole time; none of us were brave enough to go out and attempt to shovel; I say brave, my son will still say ‘stupid.’ Because, of course, to a lazy 17-year-old, to go out and shovel and then have your hard work erased by more fallen snow, was pointless. When it was time for J to leave work, I coaxed him outside, though, to attempt to dig out a spot for her to pull into. But the whole, ENTIRE time… “Oh, man, Mom.” “Ma, look, it’s really bad.” “Look, Madre, the trees are swaying pretty hard…and I think the neighbor’s Sycamore just fell down.” “Mom, you know, we’re going to die out here.” I told him to cut out the dramatics, suck it up and shovel…he did. But he did also attempt to complain several more times before realizing that they had no effect on me. We managed to clear the “wall” plowed into the top of the driveway and we went back inside knowing we’d done the best we could. Let it be known that J leaves work at 3pm. By 4:30, she still hadn’t arrived home. She texted to say she couldn’t get through the main road that she takes to get home. There are about three or four different ways to get home. Each path she had attempted to take was riddled with downed trees and power lines, cars were pulled over on the side of the road because they were either stuck, or also trying to plan out alternate routes. She said via text that she was going to get a bite to eat at Wendy’s which was open, and then she’d try a different way after she’d had something to eat. I sat in the ‘worry chair,’ the same recliner I sat in when I let my son take the car. Yep, we all remember that chair! Then, at about 5pm, our power went out, taking with it our heat and running water. For those of you who don’t understand that last bit, our well pump is run on electricity, so when there’s a power outage, there’s absolutely no running water. Toilet-flushing is not possible unless you're a survivalist and have about a dozen gallons stored somewhere in the house, reserved for such catastrophes. And apparently, no internet, either. “Oh, my GOD!!!! My internet isn’t working!” The daughter is screeching now, likely because her bestie’s face is now frozen on her iPad’s screen. “Mommmmmyyyy! There’s no WIFI!” “Okay, we’re just going to have to wait it out, kiddo,” I’m still sitting in the worry chair. Where the hell is my better half?? I could just envision her being stuck and getting nowhere, it’s not a pretty thought at all. “You see?” the son is looking out the window, “It doesn’t even look like we shoveled.” He was kinda right. I couldn’t even see the path we’d shoveled for J. And daylight was beginning to run out, and we were soon to be welcoming darkness for an unknown period of time. I lit some candles, using whatever little light was left in the house. I also fired up the fireplace, as that’s operated on propane, in hopes of conserving the heat we had circulating around the upstairs portion of the house. The son stated he was bored out of his mind (because, really, when there’s no power, cable or internet, what is there to POSSIBLY do?) and retired to his room, stating that I should wake him up when the power comes back. The daughter too, went to her room and said she was going to TRY to sleep. At about seven, J walks in, cold, pissed off and wet. Apparently a 30-minute commute had taken her FOUR HOURS, and had she found herself unable to get home, she would have gone back to work. Thankfully, though, she made it home before having to resort to returning to her place of employment. After wifey had changed into comfy dry clothes, we went to daughter’s room to get her, then we dug out board games and a camping lantern we had lurking in the garage. We ate ice cream for dinner/food since that’s usually the first thing to go in a freezer with no power. We ate chips. Anything we could possibly eat, we ate. Many laughs were shared, especially during a game of LIFE, where J was the big winner and daughter and I retired with about a hundred grand apiece. We played another board game with the son who came upstairs around nine, in search of a snack. Got to say, he wasn't happy to see that his nap didn't fast-forward enough time where there was no power. "We don't have power yet?" "Yes, darling, we're sitting here in the dark and cold because it's fun. Should try it, sometime." We played another game called "Sliders," where we had to knock each other's pegs out of play, tally up points and be the first to reach a certain number. Then, after a couple more hours, I turned off the fireplace, we all put on hoodies and I was in my bed before midnight! J had work early, so she was snoring within minutes. Y'all know about my issue with lights - well, as my room was PITCH BLACK without a single light being on for me to cover up, I left the house phone uncovered, just in case I woke up in the middle of the night. If, at any point, I were to open my eyes and there was a little red light on, then I'd know power had returned. The little red light never appeared. I could kick myself in the ass for thinking about that too much in place of sleeping. J left for work early, while it was still dark. I got up out of bed as soon as I saw the first signs of daylight. No power. No running water. House was CHILLY. The first thing I did was go outside and begin to shovel the mess Riley left us. Both of my kids remained dead to the world. I didn't mind, this time. I needed a little ME time, I needed to think, I needed to busy myself. I, too, was suffering internet withdrawals and missing being able to connect with others. I was worrying about the food in my fridge, food that I knew I'd soon have to throw away because we were more than 12 hours without power and the fridge was no longer cold when opened. After I'd been shoveling for about an hour, I woke them both up and told them that if they came out and helped, we could attempt to get out of the house and go in search of water jugs (for the toilets, which by now STUNK to high heaven), hot food and cell service. I think it was the 'cell service' that got them to move. The son came outside and helped me shovel a path from my car to the end of the driveway. In the process, I pulled a tree branch a little thicker than a baseball bat in diameter, off the roof of my car, close to the top of the back passenger door. There is a small dent from where it landed; I suspect it flew off a nearby tree and my car was, unfortunately, in its path. It's not major damage, so we heaved the branch into a snowbank and carried on. We went to town, and my son took a number of photos of the devastation. Driving through my local town was terrifying. Traffic lights were out in most of the areas without power. Thankfully, the locals were as nervous as I and people were, for the most part, considerate and everyone was careful. A lot of "go ahead" hand waves, lots of open windows, blinking headlights to warn of upcoming road obstructions, which there were TONS of. To be on the safe side, we took the route J had used the night before to come home from work and no matter where we turned, there were downed trees, some rested atop the power lines, some lines completely down, some telephone poles only five to six feet off the ground, some debris completely blocking off a lane. Total chaos. It took me roughly an hour to get to a part of town that normally takes fifteen to twenty minutes to get to, but boy, did we get a look at all of Riley's aftermath in the process. I am going to ask my son to send me some of the pictures he took with his phone; as I was behind the wheel and slowed down in many areas, he took the opportunity to photograph some of the mess. We found a store selling water (and they were rapidly running out, too!) and I bought ten gallon jugs. Then, we went to Wendy's, which was packed. Lots of folks were without power and water, so this was the eatery of choice, being easily accessible and convenient. Took us another hour to order and eat our food. Then, we were back in the car, charging all our phones and tablets. "Shall we go home and see if the power is back?" "Sure, Mom." Sadly, our power was not back. House was getting colder and colder by the hour. My five cats were VERY confused. The poor things were huddled together, at least the ones who could stand each other. Rather than give a play-by-play of the last five days, I'll just mention the highlights, or this nightmare will NEVER end. The wasband drove an hour and a half away and bought a generator from New Jersey. By the time evening rolled around, my two kids were relocated to his house (and it was also his time with them so I wasn't gypped any of my time) where he now had limited power and running water. Of course, the wasband was also kind enough to invite J and I to go stay over there until OUR power came back, but we politely declined. Many reasons, but the two main ones were simply there is NOTHING short of chaos every time we're there, and we didn't want to leave our pets alone in a cold house without any heat source overnight. By the way, yes, we do need a generator, and as I told my godchild (wasband's youngest) the other day, it's going to be what I ask Santa Claus for, come next Christmas. That, and a snowblower. I just don't have the funds to invest in one right now. J and I relocated all of our food onto the back porch. The milk, eggs, mayo, Ranch dressing, bags of cheese, other containers with leftovers and other perishable foods, all plopped into the snow. I filled a cooler with snow and threw other stuff in there. Fortunately, my freezer contents were still hard as a rock, so I wasn't worrying about those, yet. But, in the meantime, some things were salvaged. I was also able to fire up the propane grill and make us some meals out of whatever had defrosted. We had to eat a lot of stuff cold, but it was better than letting anything go to waste. J insisted we move our queen sized mattress into the living room so that we could sleep in front of the fireplace, which is what we did until last night. You can imagine what a NIGHTMARE this was for me; the living room is VERY sunny in the morning. Oh, and trying to sleep in a room shared with five nocturnal feline companions who will use your ass as a springboard isn't easy, either. Needless to say, the first morning, I woke up as soon as the sun came up. I WAS still tired so I managed to fall asleep for several minutes at a time before I got up and got ready to go back into town, because that was going to be the only way I could connect with anybody. Still no power, no running water, no service. J and I planned at least three trips to wasband's house to borrow a shower. We ate a WHOLE lot of pizza. We ALMOST went to dinner at an actual sit-down place but the local restaurants were ALL packed - power outages for this long has left MANY people defeated and hungry. Rather than wait hours for a table at a nicer, popular restaurant, we settled for local pizzerias. Both of our diets have gone out the window, at least for now. We had bowling on Monday night. A lot of the people we bowl with live in areas nearby. Areas without power and running water. The alley certainly smelled like everyone's ass. Power went out on Friday, 3/2 at 5pm. It was finally restored on Tuesday night, 3/6 at 8:30pm. FOUR days of this crap! But that's not even the end of it. We were actually at wasband's house, (eating more pizza, taking another shower) when the neighbor texted me those three BEAUTIFUL words: "The power's on!" J and I said our thank-yous to the wasband and his wife, and we flew home. Turned on all the faucets. "Water! We have water!!!" The cats are even more confused now, because J and I are running around like headless chickens. We checked all the lights. "YES! They work!" "You go flush the toilets upstairs, I'll get the one downstairs!" I swear to Merlin, the house was starting to STINK because of those toilets! We ran into our first problem when we noticed the oil burner wasn't running and the house was beginning to . There's a button on it that you press to get the thing going again, but for some reason, it wouldn't start. It actually did once, but then turned off and refused to turn back on, which means - no heat or hot water. We did have water, just would be ice-cold until we could get the boiler running. "Well, it looks like we're sleeping in the living room, again," says J...one more night of relying on propane, but we at least had working electricity. Which is good because yesterday (Wednesday) we were planning to meet Winter Storm Quinn (the next one!) and there were some people, including the wasband, who still had no power. I had been hoping and wishing all day long that ours would be back because by now, we're DEFINITELY low on propane! He does have the generator and they are warm and comfortable for now. I was just glad that my fridge was running now, and before we had another foot of snow dumped on us, we transferred the food from the porch back into the fridge, praying that we didn't lose power again. Anyway, we ran the fireplace one more night. While the power was on, it was still SO cold in the house, particularly the lower level where there had been absolutely no heat or activity in five days. Yesterday morning, we went around the corner to the fire station, which we discovered was an ideal and close-by location to get cell service, and we made phone calls during the 'calm before the storm.' Managed to get the oil burner guy over and there is good and bad news here - the good news is, he managed to get the boiler going. The bad news - we need a new one, and SOON. The way he described it to us was - the exhaust motor was not present and the exhaust wasn't venting properly, the unit was old, for him to fix it this time was like putting a band-aid over a stab wound - we didn't know how long this 'fix' was going to last. And, so...we consulted with our bank accounts and we have an appointment to have a new boiler put in on Friday morning. Even badder news - it's going to cost us almost SIX grand to replace the whole system, because the previous owner of this house put the boiler through a BEATING. He's also the asshole who probably took the exhaust motor with him when he moved, along with the doors and floors. I mean, WHO does that?! I don't even need to ask if people are truly that indecent, because I know they certainly can be. Yesterday, we got about six to eight inches more of snow. Power stayed on, sans one 'hiccup' where lights were out for a couple of seconds and then came back on. Additionally, I lost internet and cable a couple times. Figured I would update this while it was back, not knowing if I'll experience another outage in the next few hours or days to come. I don't want to say I'm back when things are still quite unstable but I can safely say I'm 'semi' back. I'm here when I can be, I've been conserving energy whenever I can, although I don't think that stands a chance against a downed tree. Thankfully winds aren't as strong today, so maybe this Pennsylvania town can begin to recuperate. I'm hoping we can, too, I think we'll feel better once the oil burner is installed on Friday morning. So, that's the long-overdue update for now. I'll be back when I can with another! Love to all. - Capulet
  15. I spent most of yesterday pouting. See, on Tuesday, I spent most of the day out...went to visit my brand-new niece, along with my slightly older baby niece and my nephew for a little while when he got home from school. Of course, Oompa was there as well as my brother-in-law, as the new Daddy is enjoying some paternity leave while they are adjusting to being a family of four. Anyway, we're currently a dieting family - Oompa of course, is dieting in order to talk herself out of having bariatric surgery, my youngest sister (#2) had her baby four months ago and is now on the bandwagon trying to shed the baby weight, then there's my brother-in-law who is very involved with the Spartan Races and with getting fit, he's lost over 40 pounds in the last year and a half. My sister who just gave birth (#1) is still breast-feeding so she isn't counting calories just yet, but my brother-in-law has been preparing all of their meals over there and he only cooks healthy foods. We had a Weight Watcher friendly lunch...some of my bird-ball soup (chicken meatballs and vegs) and #2 brought some chicken patties that were pretty good, Oompa brought the Sandwich Thins. We ate lunch, then we went on a 1.5 mile (round trip) walk to Dunkin' Donuts and got some low-point beverages. (I'll mention here that having an iced coffee with Almond Milk in place of the heavy cream is just NOT as pleasing...couldn't finish mine, didn't taste 'right.') So, all in all, it was a nice day. Then, on the way back, J and I had plans to find a pizza place and have dinner there, being that pizza is a food we can't really do a whole lot of damage to our diets with. J, by the way, has lost over ten pounds as well! So, we find a pizza joint about halfway home, go in, and order a pie. It was about 7:30 when we finished and continued on our way home. Pretty late, considering when we're dieting, we try not to eat anything heavy after 7-ish, especially the night before a weigh-in. Yesterday morning, I got on the scale. I screamed when it said I was UP .2 rather than having lost anything. Since last week. In hindsight, I don't recommend kicking the scale across the floor, especially when it's made of heavy-duty glass. ESPECIALLY when you're barefoot. Yes, that's what I did. And there might have been a few obscenities thrown in there, too. Okay, fine....MORE than a few. But, oh, man, I was PISSED. "Don't worry about that," Oompa was telling me through texts, "It's probably because you ate late in the evening. The check is in the mail." (Yes, she says that ALL the time. Ever since it was said to her by her Weight Watchers leader, it's been gospel to her.) "Whatever," I told her, "I'm frustrated and I'm bored." (The 'bored' part stems from not having too much of a variety, but I'm working on that, currently.) So, yep. I was in a shitty mood for the entirety of yesterday. I was snappy, I was cranky, there were a lot of clanging noises coming from the kitchen of Capulet last night. J avoided me, the kids avoided me. The kids aren't usually around, though, they're at the ages where they are in their rooms 95% of the time when they're not eating or using the bathroom. But I also did one other thing that I don't really recommend as something that should be done more than once a week, but the idea came to me whilst I was feverishly pondering what happened, what did I do wrong this week? What happened? It dawned on me that I'd not had a decent bowel movement in DAYS. At the risk of sounding gross and anything less than human, I decided that was the problem, along with having eaten late the night before. So, I found a laxative in the medicine cabinet and took two. This was in the afternoon sometime, and by the time we'd finished dinner, my stomach was rumbling. Many visits to the bathroom ensued, and I'd have to say my suspicions of the need of a good colon-cleanse were confirmed. I'll not say anything more about that, like I said - it's gross, no one comes here to read about what comes out of my ass. So, this morning - took my shower, washed my hair, washed away all the nasty thoughts I'd had the night before. Did my usual thinking in the shower, too...what's for lunch...what's for dinner...how can I avoid having the same damn things I'm used to eating? How can I get enthused about this whole journey again, given yesterday's setback? Oh, and as of this morning, the rumbles are no longer there, meaning, I'm guessing, I'm all clear. You're not supposed to do this, but I needed to see if this was indeed the problem, so I went to the other end of the bathroom where I'd kicked the scale the day before, and snarled at it. "Allright. Let's try this again." Weighing myself 2x, 2 days in a row, not something we're usually told to do but I needed to know. I step on and see that I'm now two and a half pounds less than I was the morning before. The scale has been apologized to, but as karma has it, my foot has a little black and blue from where I kicked it, so I'll consider us even. I'm going to work on a little something else for you guys to read later, as I'm going to be true to my word and talk about things other than this, LOL. But I wanted to share promised weekly progress. This week, the check was just late. And that's what I texted Oompa, too. She thought I meant the child support check. Kind of ruined the joke, I have to say. ;) Til later! - Capulet
×