First thing is I'd like to wish all of my readers a Merry Christmas, and to those that observe Kwaanza and Hanukkah, have a spiffy time then, also. I've got my tomtom drums warmed up and a new driedel so I'm ready...
Well, the reason I was so upset last Thursday was that my 'son', who was supposed to fly in from Colorado Springs last Friday, decided he'd rather spend the Christmas Holiday with his girlfriend and her parents in Idaho. The thing that really bothered me was he didn't tell me he wasn't coming until Thursday morning so I was just a tad bit hurt. But I can understand... I remember quite well what it's like to be nineteen, in the military and away from home for the first time.
And if my memory serves me correctly, that is if he's anything like I was at that age in the Army, he'd better behave!
I'll get over it. As long as he's happy, I'm ok. I was just a little hurt by it is all.
Now onto a little irony. Because you know how much I love irony.
I had to work the whole weekend. For those of you who don't know yet, I work 10 PM to 6 AM. Friday and Saturday nights were almost balmy, temperatures never falling below the mid 40's overnight. This was a relief as the entire week previous it was falling into the single digits at night. Saturday evening it began to rain a little, not much... Certainly not enough to deter old St. Nick on his rounds.
So it was raining. Temps hovering around 45 F... And the WV DOH sent SALT TRUCKS out to completely cover Rt. 20. They most have made at least two dozen passes just through my little patch of highway in Athens.
Salt was so thick on the roads Saturday night into Sunday morning it looked as if it had snowed. I got home from work, putzed around reading my daily blogs (And I feel like a complete idiot... I wished Sherrie a Merry Christmas on Angela's blog... I've been reading far to much in the mornings!) anyway, no sooner did my head hit the pillow yesterday morning when my pager goes off Right at 9:30 AM. Overturned vehicle at exit #14 of the turnpike and Mercer Springs Rd. I get up, get dressed and meet the other guys at the station and we head out.
We get to the scene and there's a Ford pickup on it's side... No injuries, owners out talking to the State Police. We direct traffic until the wrecker removed the vehicle from the road. But I couldn't help to notice that it looks like the driver lost control coming around the curve, sliding in the overabundance of road salt like the Duke boys in the General Lee on a gravel road...
So I get back home around 11:30 and go back to bed. And what wakes me up at 6PM? A damn thunderstorm. Here it is, we get snow and sub-zero weather a few days prior, and we're getting what amounts to be a spring storm on Christmas day.
So I get to work last night and it's still raining pretty good... But then around midnight the weather turns. Temps start to drop and the rain turns to snow...
All the rain we received all day Sunday washed the salt away...
And do I see one DOH salt truck all night? Of course not. I'm writing this at 4 AM in the office, I'm looking out the window and it's snowing so hard I can't see the parking lot... And still no salt trucks. I'll tell you one thing. I had better not hear the WV DOH saying they're out of salt before the winter is over...
Last bit of irony this morning.
Yesterday morning after I got home I checked my webtracker to see what stupid shit people are searching for and I saw something that shouldn't surprise me anymore but I'm baffled by it still the same. Around 3:30 AM my time, 12:30 AM Mountain Time, a certain person from Arizona was again on my blog, reading through the archives... Combing through them in fact. Like what I wrote is somehow going to change. This person has been through them hundreds of times in the last few months. She must have come home drunk again at midnight and just HAD to see what I'm writing again. This is a woman, who after several phone calls and certified letters to her attorney over the last fourteen months, still cant put the title for the Ford Taurus into a #12 envelope, put a .37 cent stamp on it and drop it in a mailbox, but yet can spend literally hours a day reading my blog over and over again.
The ironic thing about it is this. Here's a person who said she was through with me two years ago. Refused to go to counseling, said she wasn't interested in anything I had to say. It was over she said. Which was all well and fine because even when we were together nothing I said seemed to matter to her anyway. Almost ten years of my life gone and every breath I spoke was worthless to her.
Now, when I'm really truly happy, even after I should be still very angry with her for destroying the best thing that I ever had here in West Virginia, nailing that coffin shut forever with a spiteful and evil act. she is interested in what I have to say now.
Even though I'm still alone, I'm so much happier now than I was with her. I have real friends now who support me and actually care about me, unlike our so-called plastic, phony California self-centered friends we had in Arizona, who, just like her, couldn't care about anything but themselves. I guess that's why she fits in with them so much.
And still she doesn't get it. I don't wan't anything to do with her. Never, EVER again.
She's even started her own blog, which I was to once and haven't been back because I could care less what she has to say. She's even had to start glomming my blogger-buds because she's to stupid and selfish to get her own.
Oh well. I guess the grass really isn't greener on the other side... But it's far too late.
But you know what? I can hold my head high and look myself in the mirror, because I still have my self respect... That's one thing she never could take away from me. She squashed it for a time, but I'm a far better man now than I ever was with her.
As soon as I came to the realization that it was all about her and her selfish "Me, me, me!" attitude all the time I became a far better person. I stopped dwelling on her back in May of 04'. But apparently she can't stop dwelling on me. Maybe she's growing tired of her dork of a cowboy with the IQ of a houseplant who looks as if he couldn't think himself out of a wet paper sack.
Now, if she's reading this, and I know she will at some point... You are not getting under my skin. Far from it. You're only proving to me how pathetic you really are. And how much of a loser you are, just like when I found you in the first place. You'd be nowhere now, or maybe with your cokehead brother in Miami ripping off little old ladies of thier life savings in one of his mail-order scams, still smoking all the dope you could get your fat, greasy fingers on?
As my old Irish Grandmother used to say, "OY! You've made your bed, now lie in it!"
Irony and Karma.
I've got to love both!
Copyright 2005 Thomas J Wolfenden