My goddaughter, Asha, is six weeks old today.  Her mother and father can officially start working on a little brother or sister for her now, so it's no wonder I'm on babysitting duty.  James has a hopelessly romantic couple of days planned...so they're off to whatever ridiculously extravagant hotel he has reserved a suite in.  I think he said he was taking her to DC.  Her birthday is on the 5th, so I gave her a little something useful for tonight.  Knowing Ryan it won't exactly go as planned...she's likely to jump him the second they walk in the door.

Asha has chilled out a lot in 6 weeks.  She's like a little baby Lumbergh now.  She doesn't cry unless she needs to be fed, changed, or she just wants someone to hold her.   I love Caden of course, but it's nice to have a little baby girl around again.  She's so gorgeous, she has a head full of dark curls.  She looks so much like Ryan...but you can see a little of James in her too.  She's much to cute to be traumatized by her parents' shenannigans at this age...so I thought I'd save her the hours of therapy.  Those two jerks broke a bed in my guestroom when they were having sex on a regular basis...there's no telling what they'll do now that they haven't gotten any in months.

While Asha's mommy and daddy are off having fun, we'll be having girls night in...she and J will be learning about the beauty of French cinema.  We'll be nice and invite Caden and Scott too. 

I swear I need new friends.  Ryan has no sense of solidarity.  We were supposed to be suffering through our sad sappy sexlessness together, we had plans to go out to dinner tonight and eat half our weight in meat, and I was going to get nice and loaded.

Yesterday was her birthday...so she calls me at whatever ridiculous hour it was and informed me that she had some form of birthday sex.  You bitch! We're supposed to be suffering together!  

She is a poor excuse for a friend.  Poor excuse! 

...but happy birthday anyway, sweetie! I guess I should let you have your fun while you can since you're so old and all.  How's thirty looking?  You're so close you can yell across the street to each other.

Last week was pretty hectic...J's birthday was on the 3rd, Ryan and my little cousin Isaiah both had a birthday on the 5th, then I had J's birthday party on the 7th, and Mother's Day on the 8th.  Yes, me and 20 overly hyper kids one day, then quality time with Angie the next...fun! (you should recognize my sarcasm by now). 

This week has been much better.  Things are nice and calm...well, calm according to the stardards of my high drama life.  Ryan has been staying at my house a lot for the past week because James keeps pissing her off in one way or another...I guess the honeymoon phase is over.  But that's their drama not mine.

My one little bit of drama involved the usual person...my lovely ex-husband, Kevin.  J's birthday...this bastard didn't even bother to show up to her party because he was off somewhere with his hoodrat girlfriend.  He did call on her birthday but what the fuck is that?  You haven't seen your daughter in who knows how long, and the best you can do is a fucking phone call?  It's not like he lives in another state, or even a few hours away...20 minutes, he lives 20 piddly assed minutes away.  

I think I've been more than generous with trying to help him out.  He's not allowed to be alone with J, but the person I approved to be with him is his sister...I didn't have to do that...and I didn't even limit the amount of time he could spend with her.  Does he bother to make arangements with Adriana (his sister) so he can see his daughter? No.  He acts like he can't be bothered with it.

I've even gone so far as to tell him he can come by my house and see her if he can't get his schedule coordinated with Adriana's, or I'll make arrangements for him to see her at my parents' house.  That's going well above and beyond what's necessary...but I'm willing to sacrifice my comfort level for the sake of my child.  Scott doesn't have to go along with having the man responsible for tearing me apart in his home...but he's willing to do that for me and J. 

I already feel guilty enough for divorcing him eventhough I have no reason to feel that way.  I can't help it though...me divorcing him took away J's opportunity to grow up with both of her parents in the same home.  I don't know what that's like, and I never wanted her to know it either...but it had to be done.  If we can't be married or living in the same home I at least wanted him to maintain a constant presence in her life...but he refuses to do it.

I don't know what it's like to not have a father around, to not be able to count on him for any and everything.  I don't want my daughter to know what that's like either.  I'm trying everything I possibly can to make sure he has a place in her life, but he's making that damn near impossible.  I can't do it alone.  I wish he could just let go of this need to punish me and move on with his life, I have.   He knows if he hurts her, it hurts me...but how the hell could you do something like that to your own child?

I'm assuming that's what it is...it has to be that he's trying to hurt me.  I can't believe he would be that cruel to his daughter for no reason.  He has changed so much I don't even recognize him anymore.  There's not one trace of the man I used to be so in love with in there.  That man I used to know and love was an amazing father who loved his daughter with all his heart...that man would have just as soon killed himself than hurt her in any way.

One thing J is not is a stupid kid.  Sometimes I wish she was just a little less intelligent.  She notices his absence...she asks questions, and I can see the hurt and anger in her eyes.  She's 3 years old, she shouldn't be hurt and angry...not yet.  

Sometimes I just sit and wonder how much of this I'm to blame for.  Sometimes I think maybe I should have stuck it out and stayed married to him for her sake...tried a little harder to forget and forgive so we could have worked it out.  But then I realize that I probably would have ended up miserable...and subsequently dead from that misery.  We could have put on happy faces in front of her, and despised each other behind the closed bedroom door. We could have had screaming matches and slept in seperate bedrooms while she was off with the grandparents for the weekend.  We could have had affairs and I could have drowned my sorrows at the bottom of a bottle of alcohol...or pills...or both...but she would have had mommy and daddy.

I have to believe I made the right choice...I hope like hell I did. 

I Tivo Letterman, and the other day I let J watch it with me.  She liked the "Will it Float" segment, and she was all obsessed with it the next day.  So all that morning I heard "Mommy does ____ float? What about ____? ok, but does _____ float?".  Needless to say I could only take about 15 minutes of that before I just gave her a tub full of water and told her to have at it.   She successfully waterlogged all of her crap before coming to wreak havoc on mine.  You'd think I would have learned by now...I should have known there was an alterior motive, she's always up to something.  She was playing the sweet, innocent role a little too well.  Turns out her sneaky little ass was beating around the bush, trying to work her way up to conning me into letting her throw her little brother in there.

Her: Mommy, do your glasses float?

Me: I don't know, find out.

Her: Does that pillow float?

Me: You know what do to.

Her: Does Caden's toy float?

Me: Figure it out, babe.

Her: ....Does Caden float?

Me: Don't push your luck, kid. 

I'm pretty sure she would have tried to drown the poor boy.  She's only 3...I'm going to need to be committed by the time we get through her teen years. 

If you haven't seen the season finale of CSI, you might not want to read this post.  Let me just start off by saying that this was the greatest episode of CSI ever. EVER.  That was perfect.  All the hype has been about Quentin Tarantino's directing (which was excellent by the way), but he deserves a hand for the writing on this one.

I have gained a whole new respect for George Eads' acting skills.  He was acting his ass off.  For a while there I seriously thought they were about to let poor Nicky die.  I think that was the most emotion I've ever seen Grissom show over anyone other than Catherine.  Speaking of Catherine, I knew she would go to Sam Braun.  The only gripe I had with this episode is that I wanted to know what she had to do to get the money.

The ending was a tad cryptic.  Grissom said he wanted his guys back, but his guys formerly included Catherine and she's as much the boss now as he is.  I wonder what that's going to mean for the next season.  I'd like to see Catherine and Grissom run things together, but I don't know...they've been clashing a lot lately.  They really need to follow up on that Catherine/Warrick attraction they hinted at in "Down the Drain".  I can't say I'd really like to see that relationship happen, but they at least need to make things clear one way or another.

On to ER...

So this is Carter's last episode.  So far there's nothing great about it...nothing's fucking with Green's last ep.  Well, that deck collapsing was a pretty great scene, but that's been the highlight of the episode so far.  I'm tired of this whole Luca and Sam thing.  They're like an old married couple now and it's just not that interesting.  What the hell is Sarah Gilbert doing on this show other than taking up space?  Ugh.

I'll try not to go rant too much here. I save all the real analysis/ranting for discussions with my tv buddy, tea...she's the only one who seems to understand my thinking when it comes to my shows...but anyway, on with it...

I have to say this wasn't my favorite episode, not by a long shot...and I really really hate the way it ended.  I can't stand cliff hangers, and this was a big burly bitch of a cliff hanger if I've ever seen one.  

It's hard for me to take sides in this, and I don't think I'm really going to.  I know exactly where Rory's coming from, I've been there...I've been in that place where everything is getting to be too much and you just feel like you're drowning.  Hell, I was Rory four years ago.  On that same note I understand exactly where Lorelai was coming from too.  It does seem like Rory is giving up on her dreams too easily...all because one man said she wasn't cut out for it.  Him being the "top newspaper man" doesn't make him automatically right. 

Rory was so very wrong for telling Lorelai that she couldn't understand because she never went to college.  That was total bullshit to me.  Lorelai didn't go to college, but she had dreams and goals...that Inn didn't just fall into her lap, she had to work for it.  She had to work full-time, pay bills, feed and clothe a kid...and she never had the option of taking a break.  I see why Lorelai is so hurt by Rory leaving Yale...she feels like she's worked and sacrificed so Rory could be all that she wanted to be. She may not understand what it's like to be in a competitive academic environment, but she understands pressure and stress very well...and that's really the base of everything Rory is going through right now.

To Rory's credit though, she has to do what's right for her.  If she can't handle the pressure, taking a break is probably the right decision.  While I see where Lorelai is coming from, I don't agree with her being so pushy about it.  It's not her life and it's not her choice. 

Logan is growing on me.  I didn't like him at first, but I'm starting to get him now.  He's a good guy, and I think in the long run he'll be good for Rory.  Lorelai is way off base with blaming him for what's going on with Rory.  She has to get over this "my baby can do no wrong" thing.  She saw Rory do Dean wrong for Jess, she saw Rory sleep with a married man...so Rory stealing a yacht shouldn't be that unbelievable to her.

I love Luke, I really really do.  He's so reactionary though.  I can't believe he wants to give up the house based on a job Lorelai hasn't even agreed to take yet.  "What about the kids!" was a great line, but they should have discussed it.  It's hard to believe that after the years of dancing around they did, that now, when they're finally together...he can't even bring himself to discuss kids with her.  

Lorelai proposing to Luke...I don't like the way it was done, but I don't think it was insincere.  I think she just got caught in a moment.  She was watching Luke rant over Rory and she realized how much he cared about her daughter, and her...and she just got caught up in that and wanted to give him something in return.  The only thing she has to give him is the only thing she knows he wants...her.

I don't anticipate this becoming a Lorelai/Max situation.  Luke already holds that place in Rory's life that Max didn't.  If anything's going to be the downfall of their relationship it's going to be the issue of children.  I don't see Lorelai wanting to have more children...especially not after what she's going through with Rory right now, and it seems like Luke really wants to settle down and start a family.  

Oh boy, I've ranted on this long enough.  Tea, I have a feeling we'll be discussing this for a while. 

That is what one of my instructors said to me..."You're absolutely fearless, which makes you an awesome racer and fucking insane."  No, no...I'm not just insane...I'm fucking insane.  Regular insane is for the peasants.  Yup, racing school was great.

I didn't realize so many people fear open wheel racing.  Everytime I mention it to someone they say I've got to be crazy for even trying it.  I thought it was great, I didn't get scared once.  Next time I'm doing the advance school (in August), and the car control clinic (have to go to Daytona for that one).  I can't wait to do the car control clinic...I'll get to drive the Dodge Dakota pickup, the formula Dodge racecar, and a Dodge Viper SRT-10...they're going to let me loose in a Viper *drool*.

Who knows, this could be a career choice for me...Danica Patrick, watch out.

Today has been a really strange, yet wonderful day.  This morning my husband woke me up by playing the theme from The Joy of Painting on his guitar.  I nearly fell out of the bed laughing.  I miss Bob Ross and his happy trees...and titanium white. 

I knew he was up to something...he came bearing chocolate chip pancakes.  He informed me that we were going dancing later, but he wouldn't tell me where.  Asshat.  How am I supposed to know what to wear if you don't tell me where we're going?  I decided on a vintage 50's dress, luckily it was appropriate.  It was swing dancing by the way, which we haven't done in ages. 

After that we went out to dinner.  That was probably the most interesting moment of the night.  There we were eating chocolate cheesecake and sipping a Napa Valley merlot, when all of a sudden he gets really serious.  So he gets down on one knee and pulls out a ring box.  He opens it and there's this gorgeous white gold and diamond eternity band.  Then he says: "I know we're already married but I never properly proposed to you like I should have, so I'm doing it now.  Once a year, in a different place, for the rest of our lives..will you do me the honor of becoming my wife all over again?"  

After I retrieved my face from the floor, I said yes of course.  Since the ring finger on my left hand is already fully loaded, he had this ring sized for my middle finger.  If I was medically cleared for sex already, he would surely be getting some tonight.  

So here I am at 4:03 am on a Sunday, trying to find out where I can buy a wedding cake in Italy so we can get married again in August.  Sometimes I can't believe this is my life...sometimes I can't believe how much I love this man.

I always hear people saying "I can't wait until the wedding night" like there's really going to be some spectacular sex happening.  They watch too many movies or something.  Who the hell has great wedding night sex?  I don't know anyone who has had wedding night sex at all.  Maybe virgins do...I wouldn't know, I've never been a virgin on my wedding night.  Jessica Simpson said she did, but I don't believe she was a virgin when she got married and I definitely don't believe they had wedding night sex. 

See, the thing is, on your wedding day you're all happy happy joy joy.  It's supposed to be the greatest, most amazing day of your life and you're all hopped up on adrenaline.  Well, by the time you're 3/4 of the way through the reception you're starting to come down from that high...and it's a long way to the bottom.  By the time the reception is almost over you've had too much food, too much wine, heard too much music, and there have been too many people yapping in your ear.  When it's finally over, your parting gift is a raging fucking headache and a bag full of candy coated nausea.  

When you finally get to the honeymoon suite you're exhausted, all you want to do is throw up, strip, and crawl into bed...to sleep, not fuck.  Cuddling is about as good as it gets.  After you've slept of the headache there could be some good morning after the wedding lovin', but no wedding night lovin'...none.

Speaking of weddings...

I'm just getting around  to seeing the pictures from Ryan and James' wedding.  That woman is just too gorgeous for her own good.  They have all these artsy black & white photos that are really great.  There's this one that I really love of her with her dad, it was taken near the end of the reception...they're sitting at the head table, his arm's around her and she's sleeping with her head on his shoulder, and he's kissing the top of her head.  It's so cute.  Her dad is hilarious, he's always mocking Dubya.  I don't know why I thought of that when I was writing about wedding night sex...that's kind of creepy.  Eww, change of subject...

It has been far too long since I've spent any real quality time with my dad, so we're hanging out tomorrow...just me and Larry, all day.  It's going to be great.