Unfriended

I have a Facebook page that I use to keep in touch with family and friends who are spread all across the country. And I am open to being friends with anyone in any part of the world. But I will not be harassed or belittled. And I think in the years I've had my Facebook page I have only unfriended someone a couple of times. Once it was someone obviously trying to scam me out of money. And once I had to block a man who was having trouble taking no for an answer. And being a person that finds writing helps me process and deal with things that are taking place in my life, that's what I'm doing.

I just unfriended another female over a disagreement on the Confederate flag. Okay, I didn't expect her to understand my take on it completely. I'm a person of color and she's not. I'm sure she's never been called a nigger nor been told to go back to her reservation. Yes I have Native blood and I am in no way ashamed of my mixed heritage. But I wasn't born on a reservation, just a nicer term for internment camp. And the times I've been called nigger during my life are too numerous to count. We all have our trials to endure and I do my best to endure mine with my head held high.

But this is what this woman said to me, "No the point is would you tear down the statue of liberty for something that gets started in present day or is it something historic to keep for all time...we'll recent times have destroyed the true meaning of that flag to the point people are willing to tare it down... That is my point... It was a battle flag not a flag for slavery...not everyone fighting for the south in the civil was was for slavery... A ton of southerners helped the enslaved get free." So she basically accused me of trying to destroy our country because I see the Confederate flag as a symbol of racism and oppression. And she refused to acknowledge any of my reasons as valid and talked down to me like I'm an ignorant child and she's going to school me. She kept insisting it's just a battle flag and has nothing to do with racism which is total bullshit.


But she's entitled to her opinion as I am entitled to mine. And I am entitled to have my opinion without my beliefs be attacked, without being accused of trying to destroy our country, without being talked down to like an ignorant child and with just a little common courtesy and respect. I thought we would come to agree to disagree. But as she continued to attack me, I quickly realized that wasn't going to happen. And her statement up there that I copied and pasted was the last straw for me. I unfriended her and wished her a nice life.


Do I know it all? Hell no. I do my best to be open minded and grow a little more everyday. Do I know the complete history of the Confederate flag backwards, forwards and sideways? No. But it was obvious she didn't either. But I am not a child and I will not be talked to like one. My life experiences are not all pretty, but they are mine. I have not led a privileged sheltered life and I am grateful for that. It has made me a strong, independent woman and I don't need a friend like her. And all my love and gratitude to my true friends who stand by me even when I am being a little thick. It does happen occasionally.

Desperately Seeking My Genius

I had a close trusted friend tell me once that the man that chooses to marry and spend his life with me will be a genius. I am like most women in many ways. When I look at myself, I have a hard time seeing past my flaws. And I understand that most men are very visual, and will never be able to get past my exterior flaws to the good loving person that I have inside my heart.

And as a woman, I have to admit that I can be very visual sometimes too. I have turn ons and turn offs just like everybody else. But as a woman, I have found that I can ignore and over look things that would normally turn me off in favor of good personality traits. But I don't think most men are able to do that. Or from my personal experience, most don't seem to be able to do that.

So my most recent dumbest venture is to have signed up for an online dating site a couple of months ago. And I am so discouraged I am ready to close my account.

I don't know what men are thinking. I've made what I'm looking for very clear in my profile and that I absolutely am NOT looking for any casual hanky-panky. Yet I keep getting contacted by creepy-creeps that say the most awful things to me. I don't even bother to respond. I simply block them. And somewhere I am sure there is a mother that is sure she raised a very nice guy, but she has absolutely failed. That not so nice guy has contacted me with nothing but lewd, disgusting suggestions. And there seems to be no shortage of them. They're as numerous as cockroaches. And how in the hell is sending a woman you've never met a picture of your penis a romantic gesture?

Then besides the lewd ones are the shallow ones that asks me if I'm pretty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What one person may find beautiful another may find ugly. My answer to that question is that I'm butt ugly and he shouldn't waste his time talking to me, move along. Or they ask if I'm very obese. To which I'll answer, yes. I'll tell them I'm morbidly obese. Don't waste your time talking to me, move along.

I'm no supermodel and I don't try to pretend I am. What you see is what you get. I'm not a girlie-girl. I'm a hard worker and I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. And if there's a way for me to work smarter instead of harder, I will go that route. I like big trucks, fast muscle cars and loud motorcycles. But I don't care for facial hair and since I do short just fine all by myself, I tend to prefer tall.

I just wish my friend could point me in the right direction to find my genius. I'm afraid he's not out there. And I'm not one to settle for a lying, cheating, scum bag and put up with him. That just ain't me. I'm too valuable to put up with a game playing little boy who's afraid to grow up and be a responsible human being. Keep chasing your bones dogs. This steak is being saved for a man.

And Then There Were Two

We received a couple of packages the other day from my mother in Ohio. The one with my name on it was partly torn open so I went ahead and opened it. I rarely receive anything from my mother. She usually just sends things for my daughter, Cherokee. So even though pink isn't my favorite color, I was quite pleased with the set of flannel pajamas. I hate to be cold and I like to be comfy and a set of warm and comfy pajamas is a delight to me. And for a few minutes, I thought better of my mother who has often gone out of her way to make my life more difficult with attempts to flat out ruin my whole life.

The second package was for my daughter and I sat it under the table our Charlie sits on. Charlie is what we call our little tree in honor of Charlie Brown's little Christmas tree. It's small and without decorations doesn't look like much. But after I decorate him, I'm always pleased with how wonderfully bright and hopeful he looks. In the past, I have happily shared pictures of him on my Facebook page.

I went downstairs to get a shower, because I had just gotten off of work before I made my stop at the post office after work to discover we had received packages. I washed and dried my new pajamas and took them fresh and warm from the drier after my shower. Then I took a nap.

I got up from my nap feeling pretty good. And as I brushed my teeth, my daughter called down to me that she had opened the package my mother had sent. I didn't expect her to leave it until Christmas, she's just not patient like that. And it turns out it wasn't meant to be saved for Christmas. It was a Christmas care package of a sort and it contained a small purple tree that's just a little taller than Charlie. We decided to call her Violet and set her up on the table with Charlie so Charlie now has a girlfriend. I was quite pleased. Purple's my favorite color and I wouldn't have picked out a purple tree for us because that's too commercial for my taste, but I like Violet and I think she looks cute with Charlie.

Then my daughter handed me the card my mother had included because it was in cursive and reading cursive gives her trouble. So I read it out loud to her and quickly went from happy and pleased to frustrated and angry. The letter my mother had written inside the card for my daughter went on about how she new we never had a Christmas tree and how selfish I was and whomp, whomp, whomp, lie, lie, lie.

My daughter blew it off. She won't hesitate to tell you that Granma is crazy. For years I didn't bother speaking with my mother because I'd had enough of her craziness and lies long ago. So from about 4 or 5 until she was in her teens, my daughter had no contact with my mother. And the first thing my daughter said after her first phone conversation with my mother in her teens is "Granma is crazy." My daughter has Asberger's Syndrome, a form of Autism, but she's not stupid in the least.

Me? I don't think it's crazy so much as the woman is just flat out mean, evil and hateful. And for some reason she doesn't believe I have a right to a life that's any better than hers was. What kind of parent doesn't want better for their child? I don't deserve my hair, my skin, my eyes, my children and above all, I don't deserve to have a good solid loving relationship with a man because she never had one.

When it comes to men, the woman is a shit magnet. And she's left me with such a strong distrust of men that I have a hard time letting anyone get close. And most men don't have the patience necessary to give me the time I need to get comfortable and warm up to them. And when I do finally warm up to someone, he finds that I am so damaged that he doesn't want to risk having a relationship with me. They're afraid I may have a violent temper when as long as you don't cheat on me and are as faithful to me as I'm being to you, you're not in danger of losing any body parts. Don't try to beat me and I won't kill you while you sleep. Treat me like a queen and create heaven on earth for me and I will be your angel. That's not too much to ask, is it?

So my mother's lying letter dredge up a lot of negative emotions and unhappy memories for me. And my daughter blew it off. I wish I could blow it off just as easily. I just wish my mother would learn that if you're going to tell someone a lie, you should make sure they don't know the truth first. And now we have two Christmas trees. And the tote she sent the second tree in is big enough for both trees to be stored in, which is cool because I was thinking I needed something better than the old cardboard box I've been putting Charlie away in for years.

Surviving Winter

Winter is tough enough without all the holidays and people running around helter skelter trying to create the perfect whatever holiday they think they're celebrating. Around here that's mostly Christmas which is actually a pagan holiday that has nothing to do with the birth of Christ which didn't even occur at this time of year. And on a What would Jesus do scale of 1-10 when it comes to celebrating Christmas, Jesus probably wouldn't do it. Jesus would probably give it a big fat zero on things that should be done.

Jesus was all about the service he could provide to his fellow human beings. He was a man who was not above washing the feet of his desciples. He was a man who fed the poor and the hungry without asking why they were poor and hungry, nor did he blame them for being poor and hungry. They were hungry so he fed them. He did not seek glory for himself. He was not a glory hound. I think at this time of year, he cries more than I do over the greed and selfishness there is upon the Earth, at how little charity and love some people have in their hearts. I hate to say it but there seems to be no shortage of people that are totally devoid of love and charity in their hearts.

I get extra grumpy at this time of year. It's cold and I hate to be cold. Staying warm and cozy can be a challenge. And I miss my family, especially my son who's currently living back home in Ohio. I know everyone thinks I'm a big scrooge and I don't have any Christmas spirit. Sometimes it seems to me that I am one of the very few that truly understands what it's supposed to be about.

Our little Charlie Brown Christmas tree is a whole two feet tall with the star on top, and that's okay. What's the point in having a big fancy tree? To show off your wealth? Do you think whoever is at the pearly gates checking people in can be bribed? Does it matter after you're dead that you decorated your house bigger and better than your next door neighbor?

What matters to me is I'll spend the holiday with my daughter. We have a roof over our head and we're not freezing to death. Our Christmas dinner won't be fancy, but we'll still eat well. The electric heaters in the basement where our bedrooms are located are doing much better at keeping us warm this winter than the central heat did last winter. I'm not as frustrated as last winter because I'm not wasting money on a heat source that doesn't keep us warm. I miss my son but we'll talk on the phone.

Except I'm still sad because I want to help others that are less fortunate than us, but we are barely getting by because I'm under employed. And I'm sad that there are people out there that are less fortunate than us. But I'm just one little brown woman and there's so much to be done and not enough me to do it all.

I wish more people were like my son. He'll be thirty next February, but mentally he's more like twelve. But his heart is over flowing with love and charity for everyone he meets. I wish everyone's heart was so full of love and charity. I wish mine was that full of love and charity, but I'm working on it. Even if it's something as simple as I smile at someone with a grumpy face or who refuses to make eye contact with me because they're sure I'm the devil.

I don't need to hear I'm sorry when people learn that both of my children are disabled. Why do people say that? I'm not sorry. I love them just the way they are. So they're not perfect. Nobody is. And they are perfect the way it matters most. They have perfect loving, caring hearts that are full of charity for everyone they meet.

So we're surviving winter. No we're not doing it perfectly. There won't be big impressive presents under the tree. My wreath hanger still doesn't have a wreath to hang on the front door, they're too expensive. But I'm creative. Eventually I'll manage to hodgepodge something together that I can hang out there. And I'll help out others where and when I am able when the opportunities present themselves, even if it's just a smile for someone who thinks they don't need it or want it.

May peace, joy, love and charity over flow from your heart into the world and make it a better place. And the nice part about that is you don't have to be religious for that to happen.

Holidays

This time of year with all it's many holidays is a depressing time of year for me. I find people's sudden generosity curious. Why can't everyone be generous all year round? People are suffering and starving all year round. People get all bent out of shape about taking the Christ out of Christmas when Christmas isn't even a Christian holiday. It's a Pagan holiday that celebrates the winter solstice. If you were paying attention in Bible Study and take a look at the events that were taking place around the time of Jesus' birth, none of the events taking place were occurring in December. None of that was even happening in winter.

It burns my toast that so many people follow so blindly without question because that's what their parents and grandparents did. My mother did a lot of drugs when she was young. Should I have done them too? My mother's father and her bothers were drunks. Should I be a drunk too? I'm just saying; hey, pay attention and think for yourself.

Christmas has become so commercialized it's lost its true meaning. We have generations of Americans that believe you show your love by buying stuff. Mommy and Daddy love me so they're buying me a car for my sixteenth birthday. As if a sixteen year old is capable of appreciating such a gift.

You know what I appreciate? The fact that everything didn't get handed to me. I appreciate that I learned to work hard, take care of myself and be independent. No sense of entitlement lives here. I bought my first car myself. And because I earned it myself, I appreciated having it.

And my daughter feels the dinner I made for the two of us today is lovely. It's just the two of us so there's not a big turkey. She doesn't like turkey anyway. We do have a small two pound turkey loaf. More than enough for the two of us. Since she doesn't care for turkey, I baked two lemon pepper chicken breasts. I made one of her favorites, a big pot of cabbage soup. And I fried potatoes, made stuffing and gravy. And there's a pumpkin cream pie in the freezer for desert that she's complaining about because she doesn't like pumpkin pie. But it's a cream pie so I think she's going to like it. If she doesn't, more for me :)

Made It Through Summer

Yeah! We made it through the summer without turning on the central air once. Lord knows we could not afford to cough up $200+ a month to keep things cool. We survive with screens I bought to hang in the doors and fans to keep the air circulating. The fans only added an extra $10-$20 a month to the normal electric bill which was way better than an extra couple hundred dollars we could not afford.

Despite Cherokee's protest and belief we would either melt or die of heat stroke, we were fine. She grumbled occasionally through the summer. But she always finds something to grumble about. She's like her father that way. I swear the man has Terminal PMS. I'm more of a suffer in silence person. So if I'm saying something about it, the shit is hitting the fan. Duck! And I don't like to argue. So if I'm arguing with you, I'm positive I'm correct and most of the time I am correct. Which is really frustrating because nobody ever listens to me.

And the challenge now? WINTER! Arg. I am not a fan of being cold. I hate being cold. I'll shovel snow because it has to be done. But you're not going to catch me out in the freezing cold, freezing my precious assets off participating in some crazy white people's sport like skiing or ice skating. My idea of a proper winter activity is curling up in front of a warm fire with some hot coco and a good book. If I need exercise, I'll invite someone special to join me by that fire and we can wrestle. Totally a win,win situation.

So if you haven't guessed it. I'm not looking forward to winter. I discovered last winter I'll spend over $200 a month trying to keep us warm in this rental and it never got warm downstairs where our bedrooms are. Old aluminum window, basement bedrooms and improperly placed heat vents makes it impossible to keep downstairs warm in the winter with the central heat system. I had a couple of space heaters that I used down there and that helped. But I still often found myself shaking like a leaf in the middle of the night with my teeth chattering from the cold. Not fun and it makes for an exhausted lady at work when you didn't sleep properly because you were shivering and shaking all night.

The plan for this winter? Make it through the winter without turning on the central heat. It's not going to heat the downstairs anyway where we sleep. And at first I wasn't sure what to do. Moving is not an option. I just don't have the money to move at this time and I can barely afford this place. I cannot afford a nicer place. And I was checking out the electric heaters at work one day trying to figure out which would be the best for downstairs. One, it had to be one I could afford, be on the small side and capable of heating most of the downstairs which consist of two small bedrooms, a small full bath, a short hall and a small laundry area. I'm not worried about trying to heat upstairs because hot air rises. It'll be fine.

I had no idea which heater to purchase to add to the space heater I already owned. So I decided to ask a coworker for that department if she had any recommendations and I explained the situation to her. She asked if I had considered purchasing some electric blankets. Thank you, Amber. You're an angel. I had not considered electric blankets. We had one old yellow electric blanket in the house when I was a kid and my mother wouldn't let us use it and I never saw it get used. My mother acted like the thing was the devil. Which it couldn't be because that's her job.

Wow, electric blankets are not cheap. And I wanted my daughter and I to each have a nice one. Besides, if Cherokee didn't like the texture, she wouldn't use it and I would have wasted money. I don't like to waste money and we don't have money to waste. So I started shopping around and I didn't like what was available at Walmart and stuff. Plus, I would have needed to shell out a chunk of money all at once that we couldn't afford.

So thank you Fingerhut. I found an electric blanket that I was sure Cherokee would love and I was able to get two. They're not cheap blankets. But my Fingerhut account allowed me two get two very nice electric blankets that I have a small monthly payment for that I can manage comfortably. And I really like my new electric blanket. It has 10 heat settings. 1 being the lowest and ten being the hottest. Thus far I have't needed to turn my blanket on any higher than two. If I shut my bedroom door, not only does it keep me nice and cozy, it heats up my whole room.

It's not super cold and snowy yet, but so far so good. Yes, I'm going to have a higher electric bill. But at this point I'm not expecting the electric bill to get any worse than last winter. Plus, my gas bill isn't going to jump because I'm not going to run the central heat. We'll take it one day at a time and see how it goes.

Frustrated Farmer Wanna Be

I hate being frustrated. I want to have enough acreage that I can't see any of my neighbors. I am sick and tired of having people up under me constantly. I had bought a little grill for our little deck so I could cook outside this summer and not heat up the house. Except the back of my unit faces the backs of other units and they're barely 10 ft away. I don't dislike my neighbors but I'm not a social flutterby. If I step out onto my little deck to do a little grilling, I'm fine with saying the basic greetings, but I'm not interested in having a conversation 90 % of the time. I just want to step out and cook undisturbed.

So I've been doing some research because if I could get the land that I wanted I should do something with it, right? And I decided I would like to grow some various small groves of fruit and nut trees, lemons, limes, pecans and such. Maybe some free range chickens and a few goats too. And I learned there are grants out there for beginning farmers and women who want to farm. Except, I can't seem to find where they're hiding what I need to get started with my new dream.

It's mind boggling. It's like they don't want anyone to take advantage of the available grants, so they hid them. Not to mention I don't really have any grant writing experience. Why does it have to be so hard? No wonder no one wants to be a farmer. It's too damn complicated. And here I am, a single mom with two special needs kids, a special needs younger brother and my own mother is several cards short of a full deck so I carry a lot on my shoulders as it is and I can't seem to figure this out.

But I haven't given up yet. I'm trying to find what I need to make this happen. In the mean time as I torture myself trying to figure this out, I keep praying I'll win how ever much a week for life from Publishers Clearing House. There's no lottery here in Utah so that's my only hope. That and Obi-Wan Kenobi. May the force be with me.

Walking Dead Broke My Heart

I can no longer watch The Walking Dead. My favorite character Glenn Rhee was eaten alive by zombies. I was so traumatized, I had nightmares last night. Congratulations Steven Yeun on portraying your character so well, in making him so real for me, that his death made me cry. Part of me hopes some way, some how Glenn survived. That maybe the other guy's body fell on top of him and protected him from being eaten alive. But I know my luck. If it wasn't for bad luck I'ld have no luck at all. If it can possibly go wrong. It has probably gone wrong in my life. I actually don't watch much TV. So Walking Dead was one of my guilty pleasures. But a pleasure no more. My heart is broken. The best looking man on Walking Dead is gone. My heart is broken. But I'm sure beautiful Mr. Yeun has many other opportunities coming up that will allow me to gaze upon him. Oh, well. Life is short and the show must go on. But Walking Dead will have to go on without me.

Yummies

I love being a mom. It's the best job in the cosmos and I get paid in hugs, kisses and I Love Yous. Some days are better than others. Some days are trying and I just want to pull my own hair out. But most days are good and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I hate to pay full price for yummies. Yummies are not a necessity but they're nice to have once in a while. I usually go grocery shopping by myself. But yesterday my daughter, Cherokee, went with me. I prefer to go by myself because when she comes with me I buy things I would normally walk past without even looking at them because they're not anything we need.

As a single mom, money is always extra tight. And I've gotten pretty good at pinching a penny until it squeals. I'm not cheap. I'll spend extra of the imaginary money stuff if I feel it's worth it. But I am a tight-wad out of necessity. And I say No so much. No, we can't afford to go a movie. No, we can't afford that video game. No, we can't afford to go out to eat. No. No. No. I hate saying No so much, but what choice do I have. I have to make sure there's a roof over our heads and that we're not going to starve.

So since she wanted some yummies that neither of our backsides needed we went to the discounted stuff because I'm not paying full price for fattening yummies. We bought some assorted discounted doughnuts and we each had one last night. But when I got home from work this morning I found that several different doughnuts had a bite taken out of them.

Some parents may have gotten mad. But I just laughed. It's not like I don't know who did it. There's only one other person in the apartment other than myself. But I laughed and shook my head. When I asked her about it she said she was trying to find the best tasting one. I just smiled amused and shook my head.

There's no point in getting mad. In her Autistic mind it mad perfect sense. And I get it. Who wants to eat a yucky tasting doughnut. If it's yucky. It's not yummy. And the whole point in buying yummies is that they're yummy.

City Center

On Wednesday I spent the day at City Center Mall in Salt Lake City being an extra for a Hallmark Christmas movie. I'd never been to the City Center Mall before and I'd never been an extra before. And while it was an interesting experience, it wasn't a glamorous one. I had to wear winter clothes in 80 degree Fahrenheit weather and walk back and forth silently for 8 hours. I never sweated so badly before in my life. Dehydration was a real possibility. Lucky, Walter took excellent care of us. He was in charge of making sure we were where we needed to be and made sure we got water when we needed it. Lunch was provided and it was wonderful. It was wonderful to have a meal that didn't include Ramen Noodles. Often Ramen Noodles is the meal because they're more affordable than mac-n-cheese.

I got lost trying to find my way to the correct parking garage. I've been here in Utah since 2007, but I have spent very little time in Salt Lake. I guess I'm just not a big city girl. I need acreage. Yet despite how exhausted I was because I went straight from my job at Home Depot to Salt Lake when I got off Wednesday morning, overall I had a good time. I met some wonderful people that I wouldn't mind spending another day walking in circles with again. It was a good day and it put some much needed cash in my pocket. It was a positive experience and I wouldn't mind doing it again.

But I don't think I could be a full fledged actor. Too much repetition. Too much doing or saying the same thing over and over again. One of the things I had loved about being a teacher was each day was unique. Over the road truck driving was another thing I loved because each day was unique. And I really like my job at Home Depot. I work with the most wonderful people there. I just wish my position was full-time. That's it's only draw back. But it's perfect for someone who's going to school.

Except I'm not going to school. I'm supporting me and my daughter with it. But hopefully I'll be able to move into a better position soon. I'm taking supervisor training and getting certified to do a couple of other things for Home Depot. It's just hard to be patient sometimes. Especially hard to be patient when you occasionally have to skip paying a monthly utility bill to buy some groceries. So I'm just doing my best to keep my chin up and I keep putting one foot in front of the other. I know I will still continue to occasionally stumble and fall. But I'll just continue to pick myself back up and keep moving forward.

Ready to Runaway

I shared with a coworker today my desire to get away from it all. I explained that everywhere I have lived there has never been a shortage of people who hate me and after I had children, them too, for things that are entirely beyond my control.
I am an interracial person and it has always meant that there are people who hate me because of my unique genetic make-up. My father is black and Native American and my mother is white and Native American. I did not choose this and cannot change it. And I would not change it if I could. I like the unique individual I see in the mirror everyday. She is a hard worker and loving devoted mother. She'd love to be a loving devoted wife, but finding a man smart enough to marry me seems impossible.
Growing up in Ohio, I mostly dealt with whites who didn't want the little brown girl around. Much of it was my mother's family who despite not being lily white saw themselves as better than me and my younger brother because they're not part black and fair enough to pass for white. It's sad that my younger brother and I grew up as Sheila's nigger kids and weren't invited to any family functions for that side of our family nearly our whole lives.
After moving to South Carolina, I had to deal with not being black enough. I got called a "damn mixed Yankee girl." I had two strikes against me. I wasn't black enough and I came from up North. I can't fix it and I don't want to fix it. It's not a problem for me personally. It's their personal problem. What did bother me was that every day was beat up the white boy day and my precious son who would never harm another human being had to run home from the bus everyday to keep from being beaten up by the other black boys. My son is a special need individual and couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. And he wouldn't harm another person even if he could. He is nothing but kind, loving and accepting of all individual no matter how different from himself. Girls on my daughter's school bus poured vinegar over my precious baby girl's head. She's a special need individual also, but much higher functioning than her older brother. Like her brother, she is a very sweet soul who is very kind and loving.
The stupidest part of it all is there is only one race of people on this planet, the human race. Geography may have caused some genetic mutations that have caused some skin and hair variations but we are all human with the same exact basic needs.
Here in Utah my biggest problem is I can't get the religion thing right. I have learned the hard way that there are those who are Mormon and those who are Latter Day Saints. There are clicks at church just like in high school. I didn't belong to a click in high school. And I am for damn sure not going to be part of one at church. And there's this thing about dressing your best for church that doesn't make any sense to me. God if you believe in such a Being brought you into this world naked and is not worried about what you wear to church on Sunday. It is not a fashion show and should not be treated as such.
St. Matthew 19, verse 24, Jesus said: "And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."
I take great comfort in knowing Donald Trump will never set foot in the Celestial Kingdom. I know that's awful of me, but I'm being honest. I don't expect such a thing for myself either, but for other reasons. I'm a realist and I have become too pessimistic. I still try to do what Jesus would do, but sometimes I fall short because I sometimes let the stupidity of others get on my nerves and irritate me. I try to always be kind. But as I get older, the more likely my mouth will spill out what my brain is thinking. And my brain is thinking Jesus would not label me a transient that isn't worth the church's time and energy because I don't own a home in the ward. My daughter thinks Jesus would really like me. He often hung out with individuals the rest of society had labeled worthless or as lost causes, different from what society believes they should be. Jesus is cool with different.
I find myself ready to runaway from it all. I'm tired of dealing with bigots of one kind or another. I long for a massive amount of land in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors to break into my apartment to steal my ladder and baseball bat, where my children will be safe from bullies and other hateful people. I need a respite from society and all its nonsensical bullshit that doesn't mean anything.
Anyone got about $500,000 laying around they could give me? Will be put to good use providing a good home for my special needs children.
If I have offended you, I do not apologize and I am not sorry in any way shape or form. If you are offend by anything I have said here, you have a personal problem and need to take a good long hard look at yourself because I have been nothing but honest. I am not a bakery and it is not my job to sugar coat things.

Drowning

I am so depressed and overwhelmed by my life right now. I have never imagined a picture perfect life for myself and I know things could be worse, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I hate the ugly woman I see in the mirror everyday. She's a failure. It seems none of my hard work matters. No matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to make things better. I'm not a drunk. I don't do drugs. I quit smoking years ago. Yet I can clearly see why many people have addictions. I want to run away from myself and the life I can't seem to escape nor improve. I understand how someone would try to use drugs and alcohol as an escape from what may seem like a nightmare you just can't wake up from. I hate the apartment I have to come home to after work. Black mold and a leaky tub in the downstairs bathroom. No GFCI outlets which is an electrocution and a fire hazard. The handle is falling off the sliding door to the tiny deck. The vertical blind no longer functions properly and it doesn't look like the landlord is planning to fix those along with everything else he's not going to fix. I can understand him not trying to fix the electrical and plumbing because once he touches those he has to bring them up to code which would be very expensive. But little things like the door handle and the vertical blind are daily annoyances. And I don't like vertical blinds. I told him I'ld be happy with a sturdy curtain rod. Then I could hang a good set of insulated curtains and add some color to this apartment. The walls and ceiling are all the same shade of white and I hate the lumpy oatmeal texture to hide that someone sucked at plastering. I hate that we're so poor that my daughter is accusing me of being cheap because I won't run the central air because we canNOT afford a $200 electric bill. I got paid today but I still can't go grocery shopping, not even to buy some dreaded ramen noodles. I keep trying to be positive. I keep trying to count our blessings. I'm trying to keep my chin up. But I'm drowning and losing my faith. God has become like my absentee father who was never there while I was growing up. I was crying at work today. I just don't see a light at the end of the tunnel, only never ending darkness. I need some help minimizing my belongings so this tiny apartment doesn't feel so tiny. The damn light bulb in the entryway went out months ago and despite the fact that I have a 6' tall ladder, I can't reach the damn thing to change it. I hate when I can't do something for myself and I hate to ask for help even more. And even when I ask for help, there's always an excuse as to why they can't come help. It's a damn light bulb, not a date.

Bernie Sanders

My daughter has recently become very interested in politics. Something I have always shied away from except for making sure I vote for the president every four years. I do believe voting is a civic duty as well as a right. And if you don't vote at all, you don't get to complain about how screwed up things are. And make no mistakes about it, things are screwed up.
  There are US citizens out there that will say "We're #1!" in a blink without giving it any thought or taking a real look at the state of our country. And when it comes to the best countries to live in, we're not even in the top ten. We're not making the cut. We are severely lacking in some very key areas like health care. Other developed countries that are beating us at being the best country to live in have health care for everyone. No one is going without health care in the 10 best countries to live in. A single payer health care system would mean my disabled children would have all the health care they need. I would have access to all the health care I need. No one would go without health care. If we are ever going to make it into the top ten of best countries to live in this is something we need and something we're long overdue for. My disabled daughter who I still look after shouldn't have to go get pregnant to get full health care through medicaid.
  I am so please when she takes the initiative on something because that's really hard for her. And she took the initiative to call in about her medicaid to ask about dental care she is in need of and I can't afford because I am barely managing to keep a roof over our heads. And the social worker she spoke to informed her dental and eye care are not covered for her unless she's pregnant. So basically what my disabled daughter was told, who still needs me to look after her, was get pregnant and we can care for you properly while you're pregnant.
  She's not capable of caring for a baby on her own. I still look after her! And I love children and I hope to be a grandmother someday. But she is not ready for a baby yet. She sometimes forgets to feed the cat.
 And the list of why the United States of America is not #1 is not a short list. Housing cost are out of control. The minority of rich people here are not paying their fair share in taxes. Trickle down economics does not work. It's a big failure. The only people benefiting from it are the people who had too much money to begin with and the rest of us are just getting poorer. They recommend getting a degree. That having a degree will substancially improve your job opportunities and that people with a bachelors will make a million more than people without.
  BULL SHIT! My red, white and black ass they do. I have my Bachelors of Science in Education with a concentration in Mathematics and I'm not doing any better than the average high school drop out. What can the high school drop out get that I can't? A job at McDonald's which will and has politely told me I'm over qualified. No, I didn't  go to college to work at McDonald's. But when you're desperate not to be starving and homeless, you get less picky about where you'll work.
  As a teacher, continuing education is required to remain certified to teach in our public schools. Except you don't make enough as a school teacher to keep going back to keep your certificate current. I made better money as a truck driver than I did as an elementary school teacher. But over the rode truck driving doesn't mix well with being the parent of two special needs people. And I can't afford to go back to school to either go back to teaching which I'll be honest, I'm not really interested in at this time, or to go back and pursue something else that would better fit with my responsibilities as a single parent of two special needs individuals. My daughter would love to go to college, but there just aren't enough grants available to make it affordable for her to pursue at this time. And accruing astronomical debt to do it is not an option.
  My credit is already shredded to pieces. I would love to buy a home that would accommodate all of us at the same time. But I can't get a home loan and there isn't any decent affordable housing available. And I have three people with special needs that need assistance, my daughter, my son and my younger brother. My younger brother and son are staying with my elderly mother in Ohio. She owns her home. Bought it before housing prices went through the roof. And her home is not in good condition. I worry that will burn down with them in it. I worry about that for the rental I share with my daughter that has an out of date electrical system.
  When we went to a small grassroots Bernie Sanders rally in Salt Lake yesterday, there was so much I wanted to say. I still haven't said it all. But it felt good to get say what little I did say. It was comforting and disturbing to know I wasn't alone. That my problems are not unique. And I hope and prey for things to get better as I do my best to prepare for the worst. And the last thing I'll say for this particular blog is - Help us Bernie Sanders. You're our only hope.

Wrap for My Daughter

I guess I've just been in the mood to Crochet lately. I was expecting my momster to totally hate her Mother's Day present. Instead I was shocked that she didn't like the elegant blue color my daughter had selected for her and said she would have preferred pink. Pink! I am unable to recall ever seeing the woman ever wear anything pink my whole life. Perhaps for her birthday in October I'll crochet her something pink.
But since my daughter really likes the shades of blue I used to make the wrap for my momster, I decided to make her a wrap. I took it apart and restarted it twice, but it's finally finished. She hasn't seen it yet but I think she's really going to like it.
I agree whole heartedly with my daughter that the light blue is an elegant color. Light blue was originally intended to be the color for baby girls because it's a soft elegant color, a cool calming color. So it is also a common bedroom color.
I'm just glad I've finally finished it. It was covering me quite a bit as I was getting near the end and it's gotten a little hot to be under such a thing. But summer is only one quarter of the year and the rest of the year is comprised of cooler months. So I expect it will get a lot of use.

Finished Wrap for My Daughter

04/25/2015

Finished my momster's Mother's Day present. It's just a simple wrap for chilly days. And even though I don't expect her to like it, I hope she does. Cherokee picked out the colors. She says light blue is an elegant color and I agree. I think it's elegant too. Originally light blue was meant to be the color for baby girls because of its softness and pink was for boys because it's a harsher color.
Worked six days in a row this week. I was supposed to have Thursday off, but the new guy that was hired didn't show up. No Call. No Show. If I hadn't gone in, that would of left my department head and coworker to scan the whole store by themselves. Usually there's 4 of us scanning because it's supposed to be done by 6 a.m. when the store opens. But it was just the three of us and we were still scanning after the store opened. I'm not complaining. I'm happy to have the hours. But my feet and ankles are killing me today. I will sleep like a rock tonight.
My head cold is finally starting to go away. I hate to be sick. There's nothing like having body aches while you're going up and down ladders carrying boxes and stuff. But I'm surviving.

The wrap I crocheted for my mother for Mother's Day.

4/19/2015

Still working on my momster's Mother's Day present. I'm making good progress despite being very sick with a head cold. I have work tomorrow and I'm going in whether I want to or not. I'm sweating like I've been working out and all I've been doing is sitting here working on my mother's gift and drinking herbal tea. Hopefully this cold will run its course quickly and I'll be my normal grumpy self instead of my extra grumpy self.
It's almost done.

4/16/2015

I decided to make my mother something for Mother's Day. She's an impossible to please woman so I'm expecting her to hate it. Plus it came from me and the only things she likes about me are my kids. My daughter picked the yarn color so hopefully she'll at least not bitch about that. But because it came from me, she'll probably never wear it or throw it away. My daughter thinks I'm wasting my time and I should stick to just sending a card. But I haven't crocheted anything in a while and I feel like a little project.
On the weather front here in Utah, it snowed for the last two days. It's the middle of April and we got hit with a cold snap. It had been 72 degrees F the day it started snowing. Then we had a power outage. I used up most of my candles that night so I ran to Walmart to get more. Except Walmart no longer carries emergency candles. I find myself going to Walmart less and less because every time I go in looking for something I need, often something I use regularly, it has been discontinued. The product still exist, Walmart just decided not to sell it any more for what ever reason. I just know they sure didn't consult me before they made their decision.
And I find I have caught a cold, stuffy head, body aches and all. I got up and went to work thinking I work today and tomorrow and I'll have the weekend to rest up and recoop. But I only made it through half the day before needing to bring my sick, tired, achy, sore, exhausted little body home where I promptly passed out on the couch after taking a couple of cold pills.
But I'm drinking tea as I work on my Mother's Day gift for my momster and I'm going to go to bed early and hope I'll make it through the work day okay tomorrow.
God Bless and Warm Wished to Everyone

The start of my mother's gift.

The Passenger

The Passenger
Why do human beings want to live forever? Beats me. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Hell, after a few thousand years, most to go crazy. Me? I haven’t gone crazy yet.
Who am I? I am whomever my current host is, I guess you could say. My parents didn’t give me a name. We don’t have names like humans. I just inherited all their knowledge and life experiences from both of them. Which means I have a lot of information. Some of it is useful. Some of it not. Most of it didn’t make any sense until I had my own life experiences to relate to.
Yet, here I am. Still living among you. I’ve been worshiped as a God. Bowed down before by you as a Pharaoh, a king and a queen. I’ve been a man, but I prefer to be a woman. Men are easier prey than women. With men, as long as there is sex involved, they’ll go with you. You don’t even have to be pretty.
Who am I now? I’m currently a single mother with two kids. Or at least, that’s how it appears. Because you see my host. You don’t see me because I live inside my host.
I’m a parasite. But I don’t live off my host. That would be counterproductive. But I do feed off other human beings. Don’t worry. I don’t have to kill my prey to feed. Even though, the best feeding is achieved by sucking the prey drive. If you suck the prey dry, the feeding last between a decade to a quarter of a century depending on the age and the health of the prey. The younger and healthier the prey, the better the feed.
The way I do it, I select men between 20 and 50 years of age. The feed last between 3 to 5 years. It means I have to hunt more often, but there’s no trail of bodies either. Just a guy here and there that thinks I’m kinky or rather that my host is kinky. But I don’t hunt in the town I live in. I drive out of town and move every decade or so.
But I only stay with the host about half a century now. The benefits of being a host are excellent health and longevity. How do you think those guys in the Bible live so long? The blessings of being a God-fearing man? Please.
Not that you don’t have creators, you do. They invited us here, because we give you excellent health and longevity. Our realm was imploding, they offered us refuge here in your realm, on your world.
They hadn’t meant for you to grow old and die. But they are feeding off your souls after all.
That’s right folks. For those that are a little slow, I’ll put it bluntly. You are not the top of the food chain. The reason you grow old and die is because your creators are constantly feeding on your souls.
They’ve gone by many names: Zeus, Apollo, Hera, Aphrodite, and Ra to name a few. And they did interact with you in the beginning. Or rather what you think of as the beginning. You can even reproduce with your creators. You were after all created in their image. But it’s been a long time since you’ve reproduced together. The last guy that was born of such a union, you now call your Savior and pray to him. Not that he’s not capable of hearing your prayers. But come on people, do you think he’s really listening? Well, maybe he’s listening once in a great while just for a laugh.
I wonder what they do over there on their side of the veil to keep themselves busy. They’re not over here hunting to survive, that’s for sure.
And sometimes I think they made you way too intelligent for your own good. Figuring out your average life expectancy. Counting and keeping track of each other like cattle. That’s why I have to change host about every 50 years. Before you began doing all that, I could keep a host for up to 500 years. If the villagers got suspicious because we didn’t seem to be aging, we just moved on. Went someplace else, someplace new. Sometimes we even faked our own death. No body in a burned down house, no problem. Not possible these days.
These days, by the time I get my host life in order and we’re finally living comfortably, it’s time to go to a hospital and pick out a new host.
Yes, a hospital is the best place to find a new host. There are plenty of unconscious people. Where do you think miraculous recoveries come from? God? Not that your creators are capable of healing you and extending your lives, but they don’t bother with that anymore. You do very well at yourselves now anyway.
When I found my current host she was in the hospital having a paldynado cyst removed. Not necessarily a life-threatening condition, yet still very painful. She was 13 years old. I thought cool. After all teenage guys are always horny. My next feed was going to be so easy.
And it was. The only problem is the only reliable form of birth control is abstinence. So in the process of getting myself fed, I got my host pregnant at 15. Not me personally. But me, as in, I was in control that night. I was driving the car so to speak.
There was a time when humans volunteered to be the host for my kind. And they lined up begging to be the human sacrifice. They were eager to be the one to die while being embraced by a God. And just for the record, I was not the one who told that lie. One of your own creator said we were God. And adoration is fun for a couple of centuries, then it starts to get monotonous.
I think it may be the monotony that drive some of us crazy. And one of us has gone crazy inside one of you, it’s a bad thing. Children, can you say Elizabeth Bathory? Napoleon? Hitler? Count Vlad the Impaler? Unabomber? Jeffrey Dahmer? The Pious Poisoner? How about Jack the Ripper? Child Corpse Collecting Chad? Harold the Human Skin Collector?
You guys don’t need any help killing each other. And when one of us goes nuts, we manage to take out a lot of you in all kinds of ugly ways. We try to police ourselves, but were not as good at counting ourselves as humans. I just know there are a lot more of you than us. And when one of us goes crazy, it has to be terminated. We usually do that by preventing it from getting a new host when their current host dies.
You can keep a dead host’s body animated for about four hours. But you’re integrated into your host. Your part of him or her. Part of their immune system, connected to their brain and spinal cord, to their intestines. Our tentacles are connected all over the place. Including the respiratory system, I need oxygen too. So if you can’t get out of your dead host, you expire too. We can heal a lot of things for our host including most cancers. I’ve healed damage that should have killed my host. But I can’t fix stuff like decapitation or severed limb. And I can’t metabolize poison. We all have our limits.
But I miss the good old days, when I and my host were partners shared thoughts and feelings. Made decisions together. All my knowledge, was their knowledge too.
Now, they never know I’m there. I sneak into their body while the lay unconscious in a hospital bed. It’s better if they are unconscious because no matter how you enter the body it’s uncomfortable for them, even quite painful for them if they fight you. And you do a little damage on the way in, but I heal it quickly. With men, there are only two ways to enter: orally and anally. I know. Ew gross. I guess that might be why I usually choose a female host. Entering the body vaginally is easier than orally or anally. Less discomfort for the host too if I enter vaginally.
My first host was a young girl of 11. A virgin. Don’t ask me why they like to use virgins for everything. But Cleo was so brave. She received me on her knees. She opened her mouth willingly, never flinched and never screamed. Of course, the fact that she didn’t struggle means she didn’t suffer any pain, just momentary discomfort. I loved her very much. So many centuries ago. Yet I still miss her very much. The thing about going into a hospital and choosing a host is that you don’t know everything you’re getting.
Take my current host. I really love and like her. She’s awesome. But when I got her at 13, she had already been molested by a preacher when she was a preschooler. Just a few months before I got her, she had been raped at a party in her own home while her mother was downstairs partying. Her mother’s a fairly functional addict while her father is a drug pusher who spent most of her childhood in prison. She was a little suicidal when I got her. But I helped her through. Subtly of course.
My current host is not exactly fully aware of me. She’s aware of me in the same way that she’s aware of her own conscience. Or rather she thinks I’m her conscience. I whispered to her. She hears me the way she hears her own thoughts. And when she argues with me, she just think she’s arguing with herself. She’s such a good person. A lot of internal strength and endurance.
When we got pregnant when she was 15. I say we because you have to remember I become an integrated part of my host I hear with her ears, see with her eyes, touched with her hands. I experience everything she’s experiencing: the good, the bad and the: why me?
Yet finding oneself pregnant at 15 in a day and age when it’s not considered proper is very scary. She was so scared. Her mother offered to take her for an abortion, but she didn’t even consider it. She decided to keep her baby. Her mother offered to sign the papers so she could drop out of high school because she had the baby. But she didn’t go for it. She stuck it out and got her high school diploma. Then she worked hard and got her bachelor’s degree through a university partnership program at the local community college. She had her second child a year before she earned her bachelor’s. That pregnancy didn’t have anything to do with me. She was in a relationship with what we both thought was a nice guy. But his reason for dumping her was the fact that she got pregnant by him. What an ass! I should’ve fed on him and sucked him dry. Bastard.
My girl can’t catch a break. Rotten parents. Irresponsible fathers. Two kids with special needs. Beat up old transport. And she doesn’t give up. She keeps trying, keeps pushing forward. She’s intelligent, honest, hard-working and reliable.
She has currently gotten herself some religion. I can’t say I’m exactly happy about it though. Except it does give her hope. So I’m not going to rain on her parade in this area. I’ve only ever lived on this world in this realm. For all I know maybe your creators have some sort of paradise waiting for you after you die. I have no trouble saying that my girl deserves such a reward.
But this new religion is going to be a problem for me. It’s so strict. We’re not allowed to have any fun. No coffee. No cigarettes. No booze. My girl’s not a drinker, but I do like to have one once in a while. I like the fruity ones.
Here’s the big problem, she took a vow of chastity... During sex is the easiest way for me to see. Of course, I really enjoy sex too... I can manage to feed during hot and heavy making out, but she’s not even allowed to do that.
I hate to totally take over and drive. That leaves her with a blank spot like a blackout. Then if she finds out what happened while I was driving, she’ll be afraid she’s becoming a nut job like her mother. I don’t want her to doubt herself. She’s vulnerable and fragile as it is. And she’s so lonely. She’s hoping that if she’s a good girl, God will finally reward her with her soulmate.
I’m not even sure I even believe in such a thing as a soulmate. But I guess it’s possible. My parents were in love. Said it was very rare for one of us to find someone to endure for eternity with. My parents died when their host were beheaded. I have a sibling I haven’t seen hide nor hair of in a few centuries. I have no idea if my sibling is even still alive. It’s been at least two centuries since I’ve come across another like me.
How would I know if another like me was in the room? Scent. Your noses are more sensitive than you think...
Okay, I want my host to be happy. She deserves it. And if she meets Mr. Perfect for her, then what? I don’t want to feed off of her mate. A feeding that last me 3 to 5 years knocks up to a decade off the prey’s life. I don’t want her to be a young widow because of me. But she’s not the type to cheat. I’d have to take over and drive… Hell, a lot farther than just the next town over. Because if it got back to him it would ruin her marriage. And believe it or not, I’m trying to help make her life better, unlike her own parents. We don’t talk to them and have moved about as far away as we can get.
My girl has big brass ones. I gave her the idea it was time to move again and she just ran with it. She spent about a year preparing. Packed up her kids, rented a 24 foot long you U-Haul and started driving.
Everything didn’t go as planned. Yet, we’ve managed to land in a decent area. We haven’t been here a whole year yet. And because of her rough upbringing, she’s slow to make friends. She has trouble trusting people. But we’re going to make it.
I have always managed to help my hosts build better lives for themselves. It would make me very happy if by the time I’m ready to seek a new host, she had a good mate to spend the rest of her life with and a nice fat retirement. She’s never had a real vacation. I’d like to see her get that. There’s so much I wish I could share with her. I would love to let her know she’s not alone.
I hate it when she cries herself to sleep at night. She’s a quiet crier. She doesn’t want our kids to know how lonely and scared she is. She’s afraid that no matter how hard she tries, her life will always be a living nightmare.
I want to tell her she’s one of the bravest women I have ever known. Every bit as brave as my first host, Cleo. And braver than any male host I ever had.
I have found males to be unbelievably insensitive. A male will tell woman he’s gotten pregnant without batting an eye, “It’s not my problem,” or “Get rid of it.” Like his own child is an unwanted litter of puppies or kittens. The laws protect pets better than they do children.
I did admit I prefer to have a female host, didn’t I? That’s because women are the truly strong ones. There isn’t anything my current host wouldn’t do to make the lives of her children better. For most males, their whole focus is themselves and their third leg.
Sorry, I didn’t mean to male bash. But remember, I have centuries of personal observations and experiences to go by, centuries.

Surviving

I wish I was actually living instead of just surviving. Don't get me wrong. Surviving is good. It's much better than the alternative to surviving which is not surviving. I will occasionally complain about continuing to breathe, but I do appreciate continuing to breathe. But I do wish I was getting to live my life and not just survive it. I would love to be able to travel, meet new people and experience a little more fun. I do not enjoy living in a country that is all about living to work instead of working to live. I took a $95 hit to my tax return this year because I didn't have any health insurance all last year. I didn't think that was fair.

I think health care for the most part should be like public education and police. It should be covered by taxes. We certainly pay enough taxes that it should be covered. And now trying to find a full-time job is an issue because they don't want to help provide your health care coverage. When is someone going to get smart at our White House and say, you know, big companies and corporations like tax breaks. Let's give them a tax break based on the number of full-time American citizens work for them with the highest tax break going to the ones that have 100% of their employees working full-time. We can also give another tax break for providing health coverage for those employees with the best tax break occurring for paying for 100% of an employees health coverage.

Okay, I'm not a politician and I'll never be president. But I do have above average intelligence. I wonder how many politicians actually have above average intelligence. They should have to pass an IQ test to get their jobs. And there should be a cap on how much they can make. They're public servants after all. They shouldn't be getting paid better than school teachers and police officers who have way more important jobs. And they should be required to have spent several years living in poverty so they know what it's like and have a clear idea of what people really need.