bicker bicker bicker
The Boy & I continue to bicker about access. It's complicated by the fact that this is the only issue he's bothering to pursue, so all of his energies are focussed on wringing extra minutes from me. Plus it's the only thing he can do and get any sympathy from anyone, so I'm sure it's helping his self-esteem to be as pugnacious as possible. (As pugnacious as he can be without actually paying for a lawyer himself, that is.)
I'm not happy about this for a host of reasons, including but not limited to the strong feeling that this is creating an unstable environment for Blake, the Boy's douchebag attitude, the lack of attention to any other relationship issue, the amount of running around I have to do preparing Blake & driving him around so that the Boy can have a visit, and the loneliness I feel when Blake is away. Everyone I talk to, from my parents to Palaver & Preacher, is aghast that he is demanding so much, which makes me feel worse for every concession I make.
On Friday I fought the rising tide of weekend-related claustrophobia by driving to Parkdale and visiting with my favourite chat-based superhero: Dirk Nightshade. The agenda was typical of a meeting with such a man: excellent dinner, light conversation and perambulation about town. The walking was slightly sullied by the facts that it is wicked cold on the streets and Blake's sidewalk speed is set at "pokey," but we muddled through. And one of the best things about the trip was that it gave Blake a chance to play with Dirk's toddler roommate Ivy, the Gothest Little Girl Of All Time. I often wish for friends in the town where I live, but I have to admit that these nights in Toronto, when every part of my social life come together perfectly for Blake and myself, are all the sweeter for their rarity.
Thanks to the recent thaw, my house is under siege by some of the biggest spiders I've seen since my last B.C. vacation. The most obvious are the four who have claimed my upstairs bathroom, an occupation which means that I need to do a cursory check of my surroundings before taking my clothes off or reaching for a towel. It's especially fun when you're as nearsighted as I.
I generally have a policy of live and let live when it comes to spiders, as they take care of some truly horrid insect roommates. But their sheer numbers are starting to get to me. I mean, how long will it take until they start eating each other? The weather is cold again and I have to think that they've already eaten most of the bugs on offer. To my mind the cannibalism can't come soon enough.
The other neat thing about my house is that my bamboo have become an interesting emotional barometer. Joyce gave me three pretty stalks as a housewarming present, and they are pretty damn hard to kill. That being said, as soon as the Boy left, I noticed that one was…failing. Sure enough, one stalk is now completely withered, while the others go on. I'd take a picture, but I can't find my camera. Bamboo: innocent agent of feng shui or sinister agent of destiny? Mua ha ha ha.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*