Good men are in my neighborhood

Every morning I drive the same route to work, which crosses through one of my favorite neighborhoods in Durango. The houses are old and the sidewalks are cracked by roots of trees who have been around since this town was founded.

Faded Tibetan prayer flags hang from porches, marking the student rentals. Sunflowers poke their heads over the fences of retired hippies. Further south, blocks of established family units mingle together, listening to music, gossiping and watching their kids play. People have already rolled out their bbq grills, eager for the warm afternoons of drinking and sunbathing.

 On College Avenue, my friend JL has her Scrapbooking store, which has flourished in its first year of business.  Due to its location, people walk to work from this neighborhood, sporting Durango’s standard of “professional” wear: blazers and Birkenstocks.

As I come to a stop at 6th Avenue,  two kids cross the street with their dad, headed towards Park Elementary. When I worked for 9-R, this primary school was the most sought after place for kids in Durango. People would use their mom’s, cousin’s, landlord’s, etc.. address to qualify for enrollment. The school, the location &  the people are just a few of the reasons this neighborhood’s average home price ranges between $400,000.oo and $600,00.00.

That’s a lot of zeros for a single mom to digest.

I watch the little group pass in front of me. The daughter (8-ish) rides her Razor scooter, flying towards school with a smile on her face. The dad walks behind with his (10-ishson), talking to him and sipping coffee. His face is stubbly, coming to a point in a sandy-haired goatee. His uncombed hair sticks out in wisps under an army green cap. He is the picture of crunchy, outdoorsy, laid-back, Caucasian Colorado, with his snowboarder son in a neon green hoodie.

I feel a little twinge of happiness, looking at them. There are some good men out there, even within the 16,000 people who live in my town. Maybe even one that might be interested in me.

Sick in so many ways

Woke up with a screaming sore throat and runny nose. Tummy was acting all wierd too. Probably isn’t helping that I hopped aboard the monthly train to hormone town this morning. Popped some green tea, Pro-biotics, Emergen-C and one of those “created by a school teacher” pills, in hopes I would get myself into the Monday morning groove.

Didn’t happen.

Drove into town and dropped LB off at daycare, where she demanded “I want my Scott.”  Have you figured out who Scott is? Yeah, the new male teacher, who apparently is “hers” now.

Drove home. Passed out until noon. Got up, drove back into town for my Child Care Assistance appointment at Dept. of Human Services. Got denied. After filtering my monthly income through some equation, my co-pay would have been be more than “cost of care.” In layman’s terms: I currently pay $275 (the monthly tuition for Early Head start), and Colorado Child Care Assistance decided based on my income, I should be able to afford a $299 co-pay before they will help out.  Obviously, I’m telling the State of Colorado to shove it.

Nothing on the dockets today. No legal education to absorb. No word yet on the fee waiver.

Rooferman made an unexpected appearance this weekend. Showed up at his parent’s house while LB was having her sleepover there. He stayed the night, and when I called to check on my daughter in the morning, Grandma Ruby dropped the bomb that he had randomly showed up without calling. And whatdaya know, he wanted to see his daughter (since he was there already, oh how convenient!). I said as long as they didn’t leave the house, and Grandma Ruby was there…Christ I am still a spineless coward.

When I showed up to get her, Rooferman looked like complete and utter HELL. He looked like he hadn’t showered in a week. His hair had grown out in greasy clump, his eyes were red and watery. He looked like he had either been working non-stop for a week or had just come down from a 3-day meth binge. He’s always been a small guy, but this time he looked physically sick, like he hadn’t eaten in a while.

He made it clear to me that he didn’t show up to see LB. He was just there to crash. He thanked me for letting him see her, but said nothing about where he’d been the past 49 days, or what his plans were for the future. He just said he had to go somewhere for a meeting, and I left with a crying 2-year old.

I feel sick in so many ways today. I’m going back to bed.

What my blog is supposed to be about.

If you are confused by the title of my blog….click here. I know my posts consist mostly of movie quotes and toddler antics, but in all honesty, I should be tracking the economy a little better. I started off strong with these posts:

That was a year ago, and I was still living with my mother, which explains the desperation and anger in my posts. Thankfully, the reporters at the Durango Herald feel my pain, and continue to write about the economic power struggle that is Quality of Life versus Affordable Housing.