Wow, we're still alive. We, me and my kids, made it through 2009.
I've had to accept that I'm never getting my Betty back. I was able to get a bus pass and that helped alot. Still had to bother somebody when we needed groceries. Bought a pretty decent POS for $500 just before Christmas, a little Subaru station wagon. It's wonderful to be driving again. And I've been hired on by H & R Block for the tax season. It great to be productive again.
Everyone in my office is so nice. Wish I could work for them all year long. Hopefully, I will have found the next thing by April 15th when tax season ends. But a temporary job is better than no job, and part-time is better than no time.
Things are looking up and I'm feeling better about myself. Now, if I could just loose some ofthe wieght I've put on while I've been depressed and half out of my mind for the past year.
Good luck! :)
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Santa Will Pass Us By
There won't be much of a Christmas for us this year. Santa Claus will pass us by and leave us nothing again. I hate to share that this isn't the first Christmas where we won't have any presents under our little fake ghetto Charlie Brown Christmas Tree. We can't even get a lump of coal for being naughty. We just don't come up on that man's radar, or humanity's radar for that matter.
I'm sure by now, the shop that had my Betty has sold her out from underneath me because I just couldn't come up with the cash to pay for the repairs she needed. I've spent the whole year unable to find work. I'll work for H & R block for this up coming tax season, but that begins in January, after Christmas. And after April 15th, I'm back to being unemployed. Although, I'm trying to be hopeful that I will have found a new full time job by then. One with some benefits would be nice. I haven't been to the dentist in nearly ten years now. I have a broken molar that could use some attention. Thank goodness it doesn't hurt.
What does hurt is not being able to give my children a Christmas with presents. Yes, I see it as a gift and a miracle that we still have a roof over our heads and aren't homeless. And thanks to foodstamps, we'll have a decent Christmas meal at least. But it's hard for my children to grasp the gravity of the situation. They know there's no Santa Claus, that Mom is the one responsible for making sure there are presents underneath the tree. But they really don't get why Mom is failing to live up to her responsiblities. And since their fathers have never been active participants in their lives, they know not to even expect a Christmas card from them. My mother will come through on a few gifts for them. But she's elderly and disabled, so it won't be the things they're wishing for.
As for me, all I want for Christmas is to be gainfully employed, to know every month that the bills will be paid and how I'm going to pay them. To be able to afford a decent vehicle so I can take myself to the grocery store and not have to bother anyone else for a ride. To be able to afford the American Dream of my own home for my family, where I could make sure they are all safe and warm forever.
I've tried writing Dr. Phil. I've tried writing Oprah. I've even written President Obama twice, but nobody seems to care. Even those that have plenty, are afraid to share. I don't get it. I've never been rich. But if I have a way to help someone out, I do. I guess my story isn't interesting enough. No one cares about a little interacial woman and her two interacial children, a son who is ADHD with Torrets Syndrome and Schisophrenia, and a daughter with Asberger's Syndrome, a form of Autism. As they get older their needs become greater and I fail them daily.
I know I have no one to blame, but myself. I had no business having my son at fifteen. I did stay in school and earn my high school diploma. I did go to college and earn a Bachelor of Science in Education, but I've not obtained the right education or something. I continue to be a unique individual which just seems to rub many people the wrong way. I'm horrible at making and keeping friends because I don't like to let anyone get to close. Because it seems like when I let people get close, I always get burned.
So Santa Claus and the spirit of Christmas and the charity that goes with it will pass us by again. As usual, there won't be anything under our tree. I keep wondering why God keeps me around when I can't seem to get anything right. And I don't have the balls to do the world a favor and stop myself from sucking the oxygen away from everyone else. I don't mean to be a drain on society, but it seems that I am. And I just don't know how to make things better. Nothing I've been trying works.
I'm sure by now, the shop that had my Betty has sold her out from underneath me because I just couldn't come up with the cash to pay for the repairs she needed. I've spent the whole year unable to find work. I'll work for H & R block for this up coming tax season, but that begins in January, after Christmas. And after April 15th, I'm back to being unemployed. Although, I'm trying to be hopeful that I will have found a new full time job by then. One with some benefits would be nice. I haven't been to the dentist in nearly ten years now. I have a broken molar that could use some attention. Thank goodness it doesn't hurt.
What does hurt is not being able to give my children a Christmas with presents. Yes, I see it as a gift and a miracle that we still have a roof over our heads and aren't homeless. And thanks to foodstamps, we'll have a decent Christmas meal at least. But it's hard for my children to grasp the gravity of the situation. They know there's no Santa Claus, that Mom is the one responsible for making sure there are presents underneath the tree. But they really don't get why Mom is failing to live up to her responsiblities. And since their fathers have never been active participants in their lives, they know not to even expect a Christmas card from them. My mother will come through on a few gifts for them. But she's elderly and disabled, so it won't be the things they're wishing for.
As for me, all I want for Christmas is to be gainfully employed, to know every month that the bills will be paid and how I'm going to pay them. To be able to afford a decent vehicle so I can take myself to the grocery store and not have to bother anyone else for a ride. To be able to afford the American Dream of my own home for my family, where I could make sure they are all safe and warm forever.
I've tried writing Dr. Phil. I've tried writing Oprah. I've even written President Obama twice, but nobody seems to care. Even those that have plenty, are afraid to share. I don't get it. I've never been rich. But if I have a way to help someone out, I do. I guess my story isn't interesting enough. No one cares about a little interacial woman and her two interacial children, a son who is ADHD with Torrets Syndrome and Schisophrenia, and a daughter with Asberger's Syndrome, a form of Autism. As they get older their needs become greater and I fail them daily.
I know I have no one to blame, but myself. I had no business having my son at fifteen. I did stay in school and earn my high school diploma. I did go to college and earn a Bachelor of Science in Education, but I've not obtained the right education or something. I continue to be a unique individual which just seems to rub many people the wrong way. I'm horrible at making and keeping friends because I don't like to let anyone get to close. Because it seems like when I let people get close, I always get burned.
So Santa Claus and the spirit of Christmas and the charity that goes with it will pass us by again. As usual, there won't be anything under our tree. I keep wondering why God keeps me around when I can't seem to get anything right. And I don't have the balls to do the world a favor and stop myself from sucking the oxygen away from everyone else. I don't mean to be a drain on society, but it seems that I am. And I just don't know how to make things better. Nothing I've been trying works.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Identity for Sale
Identity for Sale.
Anybody out there want to be me?
I'll happily sell you my life. Maybe you can do better with it than I have. There's only my crazy mom-ster to put up with who may or may not kill you. And my dad who's a drug dealer/pimp. My son just recently lost all his marbles and shot an arrow at the Lorain City Police in Ohio and threw a sword at them. Thankfully, the police weren't trigger happy and only tazed him. Tazing's good. My boy's still alive at this point and charged with two felonies and a forth degree misdemeanor, and he's my good kid. My daughter lives with me here in Utah and she's my difficult child who's driving me crazing with her hate for cleanliness and organization.
Once you take over my life, you'll also have to put up with being unemployed despite having a Bachelor's of Science in Education. Oh, and you won't have a car either. You'll have to take the bus and bum rides from others. Your best friend will have slept with your fiancee and you will find yourself very alone in the world.
The perks are despite only being 5 feet tall and weighing about 210 pounds, you will look much younger than you actually are and when you tell people you're the mother of a 23 year old and a seventeen year old, their mouths will drop open.
You will also be nearsighted and unable to find a good man to spend your life with. You'll also be an LDS convert and unable to drink, smoke or have sex with anyone that's not your legal spouse and you don't get a spouse, sorry. And right now I would really like to have a beer, a cigarette, a roll in the hay with a reasonably good looking man and a cup of nice hot stale truck stop coffee with lots of cream and sugar would really hit the spot. But you won't be able to have a cup of coffee or tea either, sorry.
You will enjoy writing short stories and poems, but no one will be interested in reading them. You'll also enjoy sketching and drawing floor plans for homes. But you won't get to live in a house. You may experience brief bouts of homelessness, but currently you'll be residing in a two bedroom basement apartment that was built in the fifties and is way over due for some serious remodeling and repairs. And there's no shortage of spiders down there.
If you are interested in purchasing my identity or have a reasonable trade to offer, you'll find me in Layton, Utah which is a nice little city. I'll either be walking about or on the bus. Just look for a short roundish Native/African American woman who looks about 28. But I'm sorry, you'll actually be 40.
Anybody out there want to be me?
I'll happily sell you my life. Maybe you can do better with it than I have. There's only my crazy mom-ster to put up with who may or may not kill you. And my dad who's a drug dealer/pimp. My son just recently lost all his marbles and shot an arrow at the Lorain City Police in Ohio and threw a sword at them. Thankfully, the police weren't trigger happy and only tazed him. Tazing's good. My boy's still alive at this point and charged with two felonies and a forth degree misdemeanor, and he's my good kid. My daughter lives with me here in Utah and she's my difficult child who's driving me crazing with her hate for cleanliness and organization.
Once you take over my life, you'll also have to put up with being unemployed despite having a Bachelor's of Science in Education. Oh, and you won't have a car either. You'll have to take the bus and bum rides from others. Your best friend will have slept with your fiancee and you will find yourself very alone in the world.
The perks are despite only being 5 feet tall and weighing about 210 pounds, you will look much younger than you actually are and when you tell people you're the mother of a 23 year old and a seventeen year old, their mouths will drop open.
You will also be nearsighted and unable to find a good man to spend your life with. You'll also be an LDS convert and unable to drink, smoke or have sex with anyone that's not your legal spouse and you don't get a spouse, sorry. And right now I would really like to have a beer, a cigarette, a roll in the hay with a reasonably good looking man and a cup of nice hot stale truck stop coffee with lots of cream and sugar would really hit the spot. But you won't be able to have a cup of coffee or tea either, sorry.
You will enjoy writing short stories and poems, but no one will be interested in reading them. You'll also enjoy sketching and drawing floor plans for homes. But you won't get to live in a house. You may experience brief bouts of homelessness, but currently you'll be residing in a two bedroom basement apartment that was built in the fifties and is way over due for some serious remodeling and repairs. And there's no shortage of spiders down there.
If you are interested in purchasing my identity or have a reasonable trade to offer, you'll find me in Layton, Utah which is a nice little city. I'll either be walking about or on the bus. Just look for a short roundish Native/African American woman who looks about 28. But I'm sorry, you'll actually be 40.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Sing A Song Of Freedom
I sing a song of freedom,
I sing it from my heart.
I sing it loud, I sing it proud,
I have from the start.
There are many ways to be a slave,
To find yourself confined to a cage.
Perhaps you smoke, perhaps you drink,
Perhaps you work for minimum wage.
Maybe you're owned, maybe you owe,
Maybe you're out there all alone.
Yet no matter what your bondage,
You too in your heart can be free.
If you sing a song of freedom,
Just like me.
By: Ms. Renetta M. Corn 10/12/2009
I sing it from my heart.
I sing it loud, I sing it proud,
I have from the start.
There are many ways to be a slave,
To find yourself confined to a cage.
Perhaps you smoke, perhaps you drink,
Perhaps you work for minimum wage.
Maybe you're owned, maybe you owe,
Maybe you're out there all alone.
Yet no matter what your bondage,
You too in your heart can be free.
If you sing a song of freedom,
Just like me.
By: Ms. Renetta M. Corn 10/12/2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Cyber Beggar
I have become so desperate that I have resorted to Cyberbegging. I have posted an ad on Craigslist to beg for help. The bill for my Betty's repair is so expensive I can't even get my church to help me with it. I've completely run out of savings and had to close my savings account. And I finally had to apply for public assistance.
I will say that they give us a generous amount of food stamps. But as for cash, it's only $399 a month. My rent is $500 a month and the only things included in that are the trash and water, thankfully. But the rest of the bills: phone, electricity and gas are all mine. No we don't have any luxeries like cable TV.
You don't have to be a mathematician to do the math on this one people. How long do you think it will be before we're homeless? Some of you may have plenty of family and friends to turn to, but we don't.
My add in Craigslist is headed: Need Help Paying 4 Car Repair, but I need money for a lot more than that. I have a job interview tomorrow and I'm on a list for potential employees for the IRS.
Wish me luck and say a pray for us. And hey buddy, you got a quarter?
I will say that they give us a generous amount of food stamps. But as for cash, it's only $399 a month. My rent is $500 a month and the only things included in that are the trash and water, thankfully. But the rest of the bills: phone, electricity and gas are all mine. No we don't have any luxeries like cable TV.
You don't have to be a mathematician to do the math on this one people. How long do you think it will be before we're homeless? Some of you may have plenty of family and friends to turn to, but we don't.
My add in Craigslist is headed: Need Help Paying 4 Car Repair, but I need money for a lot more than that. I have a job interview tomorrow and I'm on a list for potential employees for the IRS.
Wish me luck and say a pray for us. And hey buddy, you got a quarter?
Gruesome
Gruesome limb-from-limb a wander Warrior Hunter had Delilah, a beautiful pure princess of light.
Gruesome hard, cold, evil Dark Demon stole her away, stole his lighted love.
Gruesome was the hollow empty pain of the Warrior Hunter as he wandered alone searching for his Delilah.
Gruesome was the fight between the Warrior Hunter and Dark Demon to free his love Delilah.
Gruesome were the limb-from-limb remains of the dark evil hearted Demon that will harm the Warrior Hunter's Delilah no more.
By: Renetta M. Corn
Sept. 16, 2009
Gruesome hard, cold, evil Dark Demon stole her away, stole his lighted love.
Gruesome was the hollow empty pain of the Warrior Hunter as he wandered alone searching for his Delilah.
Gruesome was the fight between the Warrior Hunter and Dark Demon to free his love Delilah.
Gruesome were the limb-from-limb remains of the dark evil hearted Demon that will harm the Warrior Hunter's Delilah no more.
By: Renetta M. Corn
Sept. 16, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Assistance Please
I'm still job hunting and my car is still at the shop. The good news is my car is running again. The bad news is I don't have the money to pay for the repair. Total for an engine and suspension work: $3,186.86, OUCH! I got laid off back in December. I ran out of savings like a month ago and had to apply for public assistance.
Where am I supposed to come up with 32 hundred dollars? My car broke down back in January and it took them till last month to get to it. Now, I'm hoping they don't sell my car out from underneath me while I try to see if I can get a couple of agencies to split the bill. Problem is no one wants to cough up that kind of money for an old car. Except me because Betty is my baby. I'm open to suggetions. What do I need to do? Post a donations accepted here sign. Lay in the middle of the rode screaming, "I'm a single mom! Please, help me!"
Your guess is as good as mine. And there's nothing like good old reliable public transportation, NOT! Three different buses and two plus hours for something that should be a thirty minute ride sucks.
Where am I supposed to come up with 32 hundred dollars? My car broke down back in January and it took them till last month to get to it. Now, I'm hoping they don't sell my car out from underneath me while I try to see if I can get a couple of agencies to split the bill. Problem is no one wants to cough up that kind of money for an old car. Except me because Betty is my baby. I'm open to suggetions. What do I need to do? Post a donations accepted here sign. Lay in the middle of the rode screaming, "I'm a single mom! Please, help me!"
Your guess is as good as mine. And there's nothing like good old reliable public transportation, NOT! Three different buses and two plus hours for something that should be a thirty minute ride sucks.
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