Paraguanian Rituals

So I spend the morning looking at all these CRAPPY rent houses, fuming because I'm not able to BUY a decent house, and blaming everyone from Slummy to the cat...again, yes it's back to being the cat's fault.

Mer-boy is begging to go swimming, and I'm crashing back into the black, but concede due to the REAL transmission slipping all over God's green earth during the rental search. Is this REALLY my life? Yes...so suck it up sista.

Upon arrival at the pool, the vicinity of which I'm beginning to detest with the aplomb of...I don't know how to use that word..aplomb. So when we get there, the 14 yr old Life "Guard" tells me, "We don't open until 12:00 today"...(it was five freakin minutes till.) Mer-boy and I sit in the car for five minutes, the entire five minutes I utelize to rant about the democratic process being sadly amiss at the PUBLIC swimming pool...who's public?
One glance in the rear view at Mer-boys eye's rolling Kate Hepburn style over the ceiling of the tranny-slippin REPUBLICAN Sport Utility Vehicle I just HAD to have, told me I'd jumped the sanity mother ship.
Fine.
We go back to the entrance and the last thing I want to see is anyone I know who is HAPPY.
What do I see?
Not only is it someone I know who's HAPPY, but someone I know who is CHRONICALLY happy...ALL the time. (I hate redundancy) "Oh hey girl what's UP! How are you! Hey Al! We're having Raines Birthday Party! Wanna party! (!!!!!)
Mer-boy is at the kids cake before I could get through the gate...trying to stick his finger in the side THROUGH the box. To make it worse...it was a BRATZ cake, but he held back with only minor squeals of delight.

I mentioned something BRIEFLY about my housing situation, waving a newspaper in front of her happiness...desperately tryng to come up with a good enough excuse to forego any participation myself with the damn happy people.
Wrong move..super happy girl at that point starts taking ACTION in the sense that she can fix, with her happiness, what I alone in my bleak, black, bitter, (just happened that way, the bbb thing) state cannot.
Either someone dropped something, or the sound barrier was broken, but I saw an opportunity and took it...making my escape to the chaise Oklahoma Parks and Recreation has embelished with my name to match the butt indentation. Within an hour the place was aswarm with party-goer's and guardians, of which I knew most if not all...from a life pre Al's return from Foster care. Choosing to sit alone and wallow in my bbb, rather than spread about my contagion... or visa versa.
In certain regions of Paraguay, they call this bizaar form of flagellation... "Seelf-Peet'ay."
So glad I'm not in Paraguay.