Rose's Cantina

My husband and I were having a nice time last evening, watching a Diane Keaton movie in which she plays a bitch. Diane was definitely playing against type as the snarky wife of the dispicable Kevin Kline. I didn't like her character. I also didn't much like her hair. Suddenly, I realized that I didn't like her character because she was playing me. Lately, I've been sniping at Scott, saying really nasty things. This is unlike me. I love my husband. I usually treat him gently. But the harsh economic times have done a number on my psyche. It hasn't helped that he quit his crappy job just before Christmas. I decided to make amends. "I want to apologize," I said. "I realized watching this movie that I have become a first-class bitch. You don't deserve that. That said, I think I'm mad at you for quitting your job." Feeling I hit a nerve, I continued, fueled by copious amounts of Merlot. "I realize that you hated that jo...

Finnigan, or my bladder, woke me up at 4 a.m. and I couldn't get back to sleep. My mind began to race, as I tried to find a solution to our short term cash flow issue. Nick is still looking for work, after being overlooked by Starbucks yet again, and our boarder will not have first and last rent until September 1st. That leaves us with approximately eighty bucks to live on, after the bills have been paid, until Scott gets paid next week. We're not food bank material, not yet. Last week, we stocked the fridge and pantry, bought lots of red and black rice, a pork tenderloin the size of Texas and a slab of salmon. Not going anywhere, but we will eat well. We also have a fairly full tank of gas. So it's just a matter of hunkering down and waiting it out. I don't get paid until mid-September from my magazine job, and Scott's on commission. Car sales are down this summer, and Scott's decision to change jobs last month isn't helping, not one bit. The goo...