In Which Everybody Says "Stop Being a Pussy Etta!"

When a person tells us about an unfortunate yet commonplace event, fender bender, break up, loss of job, failed class, you may catch yourself trying to console that person but feel unable because hey, that's life, it happens.

That's where I feel the romance between Tee and I belongs. We tried, we lived, we loved, we made one FANTASTIC human being but life happened. I'm still content to travel through life with him as my parental partner, I couldn't wish for a more loving father for Lo. (I could wish that Tee had an enormous trust fund, was a highly motivated professional or owned a horse ranch, but these things might be counter-productive to the good dad status he retains now, so we'll leave things the way they are.)

I'm ultimately content in having him be my friend, my Lola confidante and my former lover and while we've tried (many a time) to revert back to our former relationship, I've harbored this feeling that the time is past and we should move on to our next phase.

Now, hopefully this will be the last time I have this conversation with myself and when I have it with Tee, it'll be the last time I have the conversation with him. I'm aiming for ending this romantic relationship with the dignity and respect it deserves and guiding it into becoming the co-parenting companionship we are both going to need.

Ah, ew, sigh, fret. I hate hurting him, I hate hurting myself. I wish this could just be over.

I'd Rather Be Fishing...

Why Arizona and Florida? Why are you so threatened by a couple much like yourselves 2, 7, 12 years ago, who just want a marriage certificate? You're denying people the thrill of walking down the aisle to join their beloved's side with a shiver of excitement that millions have the right to do already. You're denying countless mothers a chance to be the mother of the bride on her little girl's wedding day. There will never be a hunk of wedding cake in these folks' freezer, no bachelorette parties, no recognition that they've chosen to spend their lives with one person. Instead there's only the juvenile moniker: girlfriend or boyfriend. Who want's to refer to their 40 year old life partner as girlfriend? Why undo the progress that's been made? Why treat people like second-class citizens, do they not love as you do?

Of course I'm thrilled with the results of the election, I'm glad the insanity of the Bush administration is over but when I saw the statewide bans on gay marriage passed, my heart dropped. I haven't cried at work like this since I was in the early stages of labor. I'm heartbroken, it's just a fucking shame.

In other news, Obama won! Hurray!

And for future Etta: when they predict all the lines and hysteria and get to the polls NOW NOW NOW because it's gonna be SOOOOO busy... your past self voted in 5 minutes last election. Don't let them scare you girl.

I've been the soul of graciousness today, I even went so far as to buy the office Republicans a shortbread cookie at Panera today to show that all the shit I had to endure during the campaigns weren't taken to heart. The racist jokes were but their misplaced beliefs aren't. Shit, everyone has problems right?

My big problem right now is I can't get over the heartlessness of these bans and I have to type up my homework for class tonight. Shit.

The Unfairness of it ALL....

I'm doing exactly as I feared and my first "real" post is going to be one not concerning Lola at all. Or maybe it does concern her, in a Kevin Bacon-six degrees of separation sort of a way: Veronica is getting fucked. Veronica is part of the Lola fan club, chapter Servpro. She is also, unfortunately, an illegal alien. She happens to be one of the funniest, most genuine females I've ever met, with memorable mannerisms, charming spanglish and two of the cutest little girls this side of a chimichanga. And she's getting fucked.

When I say fucked (just so we're clear) I'm not talking "sweaty, grin-with-disbelief-on-how-amazing-that-was" fucked, I'm talking "oh shit, what the hell is she going to do now, let's hope there's some way she can stay in the this country" fucked.

Here's the situation: Veronica and her hubby don't have a lot of money (hear hear!) and she is applying for BadgerCare for her two little girls. This is all good so far since she has an alias, (I know it but I'm not going to reveal it since it wouldn't be such a good alias then, would it?) and we wrote her a check to show she works here.

Background knowledge: Veronica's alias actually works through a temporary staffing firm, Veronica herself doesn't actually exist in the US.

Yesterday, I get a routine phone call from her social worker (I know, couldn't they call them something else, like "useless") who is trying to verify employment. The problem comes in where Veronica is not employed by Servpro, she's employed by a staffing agency and she is not employed by the staffing agency under Veronica.

Chad is tied with this one. He can fill out the employment verification form stating Veronica is our employee (which she's not) and risk an audit which shows we hired an illegal resident. Or... he can deny that she is our employee and ruin her chances for affordable health insurance.

I know how expensive insurance is... for one child. For two, even with two working parents, it's got to be astronomical.

I'm heartbroken to know that this wonderful woman is getting denied health insurance because of us, that she'll be scrimping by each time a little one has an ear infection or god forbid, breaks an appendage. I sympathize and ache for the state of things.

It's just not fucking fair. And if one of you hypothetical readers even so much as thinks her illegal status is cause for being stringent, I challenge you: look into her little girls' dark, wary eyes and tell them that their mother is a second rate human whose nonexistent citizenship is reason enough to deny them quality health care. You hardhearted fuck.