Happy might be too much to ask, I'm aiming for Okayish New Year

The past year, well, it's been challenging, to say the least.

I lost my bio-father to covid, because he refused vaccination even after he promised he would get it and I'm still angry about that. Also his wife & my half-sister & her family have apparently decided that my kids (and I) are non-existent so fuck those guys.

Yes, clearly I'm still struggling with rage issues about the whole situation.

Holidays this year have been bizzare and have left me with some emptiness in my heart, and then the empty fills with anger and off we go again.

I AM TRYING.
Also I really really hate being forced into membership with so many of you, in the Lost Parent Club.
What sucks is that once you're in, you're in for life, which is ironic because death is what qualified you to get in.

The dark-humored joke at my house is that hey, at least I've got a spare (dad).


In the past year...
I have been diagnosed with diabetes, lipodermatasclerosis, high blood pressure, anemia, hypothyroid (unshocking because I had Grave's disease and had to take a radioactive pill to kill my thyroid), and a few other little lesser issues.
I had to have an ultrasound on my heart and my legs.
I could not walk properly, it was like my thigh muscles had forgotten how to work. I had to use a walker or at least a cane just to move around the house.

Also in the past year...
I have brought my A1C blood sugar down from 9.8 to 6.6
I have lost 98 lbs.
My blood pressure has come down from redline stroke zone to pretty near perfect.
Dumped 2 of my blood pressure meds, cut down on my iron pills.
I can get around without a walker and only need the cane if I'm doing a lot of walking, just as a balance precaution

So as you can see, it's been a very uppy-downy, twisty-turny, rough and bumpy ride, with all the screaming and nausea you'd expect from the worst roller coaster ever.

AAAND to top off the Suckfest that is 2021, my girl Betty White just died - and she only could've timed it better if it was 11:59PM tonight.
RIP, you magnificent woman.


All the self-pitying bullshit aside, I do have a plan for 2020Too.
I mean mostly it's DON'T HEADSTAB ANYONE, but baby steps, right?

Now go forth and celebrate in small, safe groups, don't drink and drive, buckle your seatbelt, wear a mask, and GET YOUR GD VACCINATION and BOOSTER.
Don't die of stupid because I will NOT forgive you.

Have a very Okayish New Year!

To summarize:

 Every once in a while you just want to be somebody's, anybody's, Number One Person.

I mean, other than "feared" or "hated" or "enemy." 
I got that covered.

DISNEY: Behind The Magic Curtain

Reasons why I will never understand your Disney obsessions. 

I mean seriously, SO MUCH EVIL and DARK MAGIC. 
I mean people who won't even let their kids read Harry Potter or Charlie Bone because of all the magic CLEARLY HAVE NEVER SEEN A DISNEY MOVIE.

Beauty and the Beast.

Beast: Lookit, I know you're a prisoner here and all but srsly look at me. Frankly the only way I can get girls is kidnapping and imprisonment. But hey, you can roam freely except the west wing.
#HumanTrafficking

Belle: What's in the west wing? (besides that awesome show with Martin Sheen and Rob Lowe and Joshua Malina and the delightful & delicious #PretendBoyfriend Bradley Whitford)

Beast: IT IS FORBIDDEN! I know, I know, I should just say HEY that's my personal area where I live and there's a giant litterbox I'm embarrassed of and also I DO NOT LIKE PEOPLE TOUCHING MY STUFF OKAY? But doy, I'm stupid and sort of a bully.

Belle: Well  I do what I want and get away with it because you know I'm so beautiful and everyone thinks that and I'm such a rebel Ima go get all up in your stuff and touch everything and possibly ruin a whooooole bunch of lives in the process so SUCK IT BITCHBEAST.
#Privilege #Entitlement 
Also EW #BESTIALITY.

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And then there's Snow White.

Evil Queen: Hey dude, go do a murder for me on this girl just because she's pretty. Here's a fancy jewelry box to put her heart in. I'm sure it will leak blood all over your stuff and start to smell but idc.

Huntsman: Here's your heart.  And hey here's a big platter of fresh bacon and ham and pork chops. 
Totally unrelated and coincidental.

LATER.

FIRST of all, bitch goes breaking and entering and then immediately starts criticizing the housekeeping. Then she makes all the animals do the hard jobs that require THUMBS while she sweeps the floor and twirls around like Billy Madison's kindergarten teacher la la laing.

Then some rando guy claiming princehood rides through the forest and finds a DEAD LADY IN A GLASS BOX and thinks, "Hmm, she's still so pretty and looks reasonably fresh so I GOTTA GET ME SOME OF THAT!"
So then she comes back to life - ZOMBIE - and probably will end up eating his brain and/or flesh at some point which really is no more than he deserves because EW #NECROPHILIAC #PERVY #GROSSTASTIC

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Little Spoiled Brat of the Sea. Daddy issues, anyone?

Ariel: OH HAI yeah I'm up on the surface of the ocean freaking people out so WHAT OF IT MIND YOUR BUSINESS. My pops has like 22 other spawngirls to worry about and I'm the baby so I do what I want anyway and it's no wonder mom took off and prolly faked her own death by pretending to be caught by a fish net.

Say, I wonder why I'm all alone when I have a fafillion sisters? Oh well they're bitches anyways.

Flounder: Um I'm pretty sure I saw a shark and you know they're not scared of fishpeople.

Ariel: SHUT YOUR BLOWHOLE, guppy, you're stupid and a baby.

OH FUCK SHARK SHARK SHARK!

Big Daddy: I WILL DESTROY ALL THESE THINGS BECAUSE YOU FINALLY NEED SOME DISCIPLINE IN YOUR LIFE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Ariel: I AM 16 AND IN LOVE AND I WILL MARRY THAT FREAKING PRINCE OVER YOUR DEAD BODY IDC. #Selfish #Self-absorbed

Prince Eric: Oh goody, a mute girl. Perfect ending to a suckass week.

OH BUT I LOVE YOU NOW BECAUSE YOU CAN DRIVE A CART.
You are 16, I am 18, older and wiser - I'll take care of you (pretend it's the gazebo scene from Sound of Music)

#StatutoryRape #KingEnabler #NeedParentalPermissionToMarry

Lion King

Nala: OH EM GEE lookie who's here, all growed up! HEY, sorry your dad got like, murdered and stuff and we pretty much abandoned you to your death, but remember what a heinous little arrogant asshole you were as a kid? And almost getting us killed? Good times.

Simba: I SEE DEAD LIONS.

Nala: Well we're starving and too scared to eat the nasty hyenas. Plus they're creepy AF. 

Simba: "Pride" of lions MY ASS, you pussy cats can't even take down some hyenas and a gross old scarred up murder lion. NICE. 

Fine, Ima just go BURN THAT MOTHERFUCKER DOWN. Bye Nalicia.

If you survive, we should hook up after. 

#Murder #HostileTakeover #ChildEndangerment #Arson

Pocahontas.

Ugh. Just no. 

"Conquering" Whitey taking advantage of and killing Native Americans and spreading his diseases I'm sure. 

#Privilege #Entitlement #Genocide

Peter Pan.

Tinkerbell? High toned grade-A bitch. And turncoat, betraying her "beloved" poster child for Arrested Development Peter to Hook just to get back at him because she so jealous.

Wendy? Drama queen. And perpetual "victim".  OOOO PEETAH! BOOHOOHOO! HELP ME! HELP ME! 

Mermaids? Shrewish, mean-spirited harpies with murderous intent.

And Peter? Grandstanding show off. And a total playa. Plus he likes to hit the hash pipe & I'm pretty sure the "magic dust" is PCP because it makes you think you can fly.
I begin to feel some small twist of sympathy for Captain Hook because srsly adulting is HARD and kids are ASSHOLES. And HE GOT HIS HAND BITTEN OFF OH EM GEE WTAF.

#amputee #Kidnapping #Drugs

Sleeping Beauty

Maleficent: GEE, you'd think you'd remember I am the MAGYCKEST PERSON IN THIS HEMISPHERE and make sure I get invited to all the parties. Just for that, your little snotface brat is going to prick her finger on a spinning wheel and DIE.
#MURDERS

King: HA! Well your invitation must have got lost in the mail, but you so cray if you think my daughter is ever going to do manual labor like spinning stuff. So whatever. Also you smell like rotten egg farts.

Also just in case WE ARE GOING TO BURN EVERY SPINNING WHEEL IN THE COUNTRY so there. 
#Arson 

Rumplestiltskin: SON OF A BITCH. Dude you are ruining my whole storyline!
*stomps out to go hide a spinning wheel*

Briar Rose: WTF no one ever even calls me by name. Like that David Allen Coe song. 
Also HEY LOOK A THING WITH A WHEEL AND POINTY STICK SO LET ME JUST TOUCH THE SHARP END!

100 Years Later 
**EDITED FOR DISNEY PURISTS: Okay, so the original fairy tale was a hundred year sleep, the Disney version had Flora, Fauna & Merryweather to break the Prince out of Maleficent's gaol and then still go kiss the apparently dead chick.

Prince: wow, I wonder what is in that castle surrounded by brambles? Lemme just go look.

WOW. DEAD GIRL BUT SHE LOOKS SO PRESERVED. I GOTTA KISS HER.

Oh goody, another necrophiliac. ARE YOU SEEING A PATTERN HERE?

Bambi

Bambi: Say mom, how come all the other kids have a dad? And oh yeah PS thanks for the lame-ass stripper name.

Bambi's mom: Oh, yeah, "Great Prince of the Forest." PFFFT RIGHT. More like Deadbeat Dad. Sweetie, have you ever heard the phrase "humped and dumped?"

Gunshot. Dead Mom. #MURDER
Also WTF HUNTER THERE WERE SOME 10 POINT BUCKS RIGHT THERE AND YOU SHOT A DOE I HOPE THE GAME WARDEN FINES YOUR ASS.

Bambi: YOU KILLED MY MOM YOU BASTARD SO NOW I AM GOING TO AMASS AN ARMY AND WE ARE GOING ALL UP IN YOUR GARDENS AND EATING YOUR VEG AND PLANTS SO SUCK IT HUMANS!

Bambi's dad: GD IT. What the hell. I guess you'll have to come with me now. Just keep quiet and don't bug me or you're out of here.

Bambi + Faline

FIRE FIRE FIRE. #Arson

2 New fawns: Momma, how come all the other kids have a dad?

Faline: Darlings, have you ever heard the term "humped and dumped?"

New Prince of the Forest Bambi waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay off in the distance.

#Abandonment #ChildEndangerment

Just wait until I'm ready to reveal Old Yeller.

Until then, have a day. Now go away.

Quarantine observations.

I know a lot of people are really struggling - those of you who take for granted the ability to just get up and go, whenever, wherever.
Who holler HEY KIDS LOAD UP! We're going to the park!
Who load up your dogs for a trip to the dog park or on a hike or a stroll through the neighborhood.

ESPECIALLY if you're social distancing from your loved ones, from your kids, your spouse, your best friends. It's hard.

Some of us, like 24/7 caregivers...well a lot of us are used to it. To The Alone.
To Lonely. We don't get out much because we CAN'T get out much.  We don't take any of those things for granted because we've been without for years and years and years.

Some of you are experiencing a little piece of our regular lives, and I hope you carry that bit with you and remember it when we have to say "I'm sorry, I can't" for the eleventy thousandth time. Or if we do reach out and you have sort of brushed us off as "punishment" in the past, because you thought we weren't making an effort.
Remember the feeling. Forgive us. Don't forget us. Please.

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Drive thru window employees have been so much friendlier in tone and in words, AND my orders have been 100% correct way more often since the dining rooms have been closed. I vote that all fast food restaurants keep the dining rooms closed forever because this has been THE SHIZZ.

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Some people are learning how to tap into patience they never knew they had.
Some people are realizing how impatient they have always been.

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I have learned that some people I might have tolerated are actually stupid garbage people with zero common sense and ridiculously hypocritical and illogical. #ByeFelicias

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On the upside, LOOK AT ALL THE THINGS OF WHICH YOU FIND YOURSELF CAPABLE.
You're not just managing your household - and sometimes doing it alone for the first time.
You're managing to deal with your kids on a more full-time basis. You're homeschooling or learning how to help with online classes. You're cooking more which means more cleaning. You're becoming more self-sufficient, even with little things like manis and pedis and haircuts.
You're being inventive, creative, innovative, imaginative, in ways you haven't had to in years, if ever.
You're making it work, you're working smarter, you're finding solutions.
You are completing projects that you might have begun years ago.
You're spending facetime with friends and family more often than you did before.
ALL THE THINGS - with the exact same amount of hours in a day.
ALL THE THINGS - when you used to say "I don't have time for XX."
Doing more. Doing better. Managing your time. And probably even finding more time for reading and movie watching and teevee bingeing.
Be proud of yourselves, give yourselves a little back pat and arm punch and know that you are making it work.
YOU ARE HANDLING YOUR SHIT LIKE A BADASS SO KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK.

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YOU GOT THIS. STAY HOME. STAY MASKED. STAY HEALTHY.
Keep helping those of us with fragile immune systems and poor health stay safe.
We appreciate it, we really do.

Oh well HAI 2020!

So just to catch you up on how my 2020 is going so far.

The other evening I left to go pick up Minion from work, and some dude was walking back and forth across the driveway (I live in a little "compound" with 4 little houses and a 4 car garage with apartments over top of them and we share a horeshoe drivearound driveway), and it looked sort of like he was either arguing with someone on the phone OR possibly looking for something because the light was on his phone.

My parents live next door so I called & told my dad to keep an eye on him, and just about that time the dude crossed the street into the neighborhood over there.

Later that same night... 
Around 10 pm there was a knock on the door...and for the first time in the 25 years I've lived there, I am a little ashamed to admit that I was too afraid to open the door.
Yes. Too afraid.
So I'm all WHO IS IT and a young voice said, "I need help."
THIS IS WHY I AM ASHAMED, BECAUSE I DID NOT OPEN THE DOOR.
Also I did not even use the peephole because I have seen WAAAYYYY too many crime shows and read WAAYYYYY too many thrillers and I did not want to get shot in the eye I KNOW SHUT UP BUT PARANOIA.

The porch light was on, I asked  what he needed, what could I do to help - he said,
"I'm 14, I'm about to get jumped!"
I said WHO IS GOING TO JUMP YOU? Stay there on the porch and I'll call the cops for you!
He said, "Okay okay, I'm leaving!"
And I yelled (still not opening the door) WAIT, I'm calling the cops TO HELP YOU! Stay up on the porch!

And nothing. So I call my dad next door and by the time I have that conversation, there is no one around anywhere except a couple walking their dogs across the street.
So basically I was so scared that I did not try hard enough to help.
Minion thinks it was a setup, and she's glad I did not open the door.
But someone asked for help.
I can't decide how I feel about it, except to feel bad that I was too afraid in my own home to open the front door when I've never (knock wood) had a problem of any sort in 25 years.
In fact my former babysitter's cousin is actually the only person who has ever stolen from me and if I ever run across THAT little bitch Ima beat her ass, I promise you that.

Two days later...
Okay, so for the past year or so I've had this...I don't know, kind of like narcolepsy where I just fall asleep in an instant. It happens at my desk all the time. Probably I'm just not getting enough "good" sleep, since I am old AF and have all the burning acid reflux and up 3 times to pee and drainage that makes me cough and I sleep in 2-4 hour chunks.
ANYWAY.
I'd slept in the recliner for some terrible reflux, woke up and Minion brought me coffee, and I nodded off before I could drink it.
Woke up AN HOUR later, requested a re-heat, and she left it in the microwave a leetle (lot) too long because it was about boiling.
She DID warn me that it was superhot.
I had it in my hand and...wait for it...
Next thing I know I am awake and screaming and scalded.
So I have 2nd degree burns and weepy blisters allllllll down my right side, from boob to hip.
And of course my arm is constantly hurting the ones on my boob and standing up and sitting down keeps burstin open everything on my hip.
Seriously it is so very ugly and gross, but keeping it clean and gauzed and it's finally starting to heal in most of the places -- the worst was having to soak the bandages off in my hip in the shower today because it was stuck very tight.
I KNOW, GROSS, TMI.

And so with no insurance and no $$, we're taking care of it at home and Minion is serving as an excellent nurse EXCEPT Nurse Ratched occasionally looks at the stuff when we're changing the dressing and her mouth crinkles up and her eyes go wide and I'm like STOP DOING THAT WITH YOUR FACE.
But it's itchy and healing and uncomfortable but at least we can Neosporin most of it now, so it doesn't sting too much.

Oh yeah, and my transmission thunked hard into first gear today, so there's that.
Some days I wish I was one of those people who could ask for gofundme help, but it's just not in me.
I'm just going to sit here and be thankful for a roof over my head, the warmth of the heater, the food on the table, friends to cheer me up, family, and the capacity to work & earn my way forward.

I need a vacation from my life.

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So, how's your year so far?

♫♪ Talkin' about my generation ♫♪

The last few days I've had to sit back and laugh as I watch all the "Generation Wars" ramping up, much like the "MommyBlogger Wars" a few years ago.

I can't even keep track of what generation I'm supposed to be, GenX I guess because really that one sounds the coolest so it probably is mine.
Also WTF even is Generation Jones? Because apparently I'm at the tail end of that as well, being born in 1968.

I'm going with JoneX. That's my generation.
If you're cool enough I'll let you use that for yourself but don't hold your breath.

My generation is punk and goth and indie music. It's huge hair and cutout sweatshirt necks. It's layered tank tops and leg warmers and shiny metallic jazzercise tights. It's British Knights and Kaepa tennies with the upside down laces. It's bulky thigh length sweaters over turtlenecks with sweater skirts over long john pants. It's clove cigarettes and Strawberry Hill wine. Culottes and (American style) knickers, prairie blouses, Jams shorts and Jellies shoes. It's fingerless lace gloves and layered tutus over torn fishnets with combat boots. It's poodle perms and big round frames for our glasses, sparkly blue eyeshadow and green mascara, banana clips and feathering combs and those stretchy round plastic comb-like headbands.

We were weird and unique and we liked it that way. I still do.

I mean seriously WE are the only ones who ever learned how to actually program a VCR to videotape multiple soap operas on multiple channels during the day while we were in high school/college classes and then program them to tape movies off HBO, Showtime and Skinemax so we could watch all the movies when we were stuck at home and not out carousing and cruising The Strip with our friends.
WE ALONE could squeeze that fourth movie on that VHS tape by carefully running back the credits to the end of the movie, and starting the next at that SPLIT SECOND after the HBO logo ended at the beginning of the next movie, all using three remote controls for TV, VCR, and cable box.

TOP THAT, YOU ROKU FIRESTICK DVRers with your fancy voice controls!

Also we had the bestworst music. You either love it or you lovehate it, and even the country music was so much better.

I know we all think our own was probably the best (and although I don't really like kids of any age, I find the current group of youngsters/young adults are bright and tolerant and learning to fight for their right to paaaaaartay what's right)... but I mean really, in the grand scheme of Things That Actually Affect Your Really For Real Life...does it matter?

It appears that ALL the generations have some things in common, like the willingness to argue over EVERY. DAMN. STUPID. THING. EVER and also take themselves far too seriously in the broadest generalizations.
Have we just run out of better things about which to argue?
Is this like why Hollywood keeps making the same exact movies over and over, like we truly need YET ANOTHER WHOLE VERSION/GENERATION OF A CHARLIE'S ANGELS MOVIE OMG NO THANK YOU PLEASE!

Some of y'all need to just

SNL Simma Down Now GIF from Snl GIFs

My life in a sentence.

TMW you noticed earlier that black hairy spider on the ceiling and now you can't see it but you know they are the tricksy ones that often wait until you walk under the doorway so they can drop down on your head and now you are pretty sure it might be in your hair and you squeal and start to to flick your fingers through your hair to get it out and then realized that you slept on your back last night and YES IT IS 3PM RIGHT NOW and you haven't brushed your hair yet today SO WHAT MIND YOUR BUSINESS and it's a yuge rat's nest on the back of your head and there could actually be a small community of spiders living in that thing and you'd never know it so then you have to scream (and possibly pee a little if you're old and you've had kids and stuff like me shut up) and bend over to start shaking your rat's nest and whack your forehead on the desk and yell for help or scream GET IT OUT GET IT OUT and turns out there was nothing in there and now you see the spider near your doorway and now you're trapped in your room with a possible concussion at least until you can find a hairbrush and/or Windex.



via GIPHY

Little of this, little of that.

If I ever get another animal I'm naming it Peeve, so I can say, "Yeah this is my pet, Peeve."

I feel like I'm going to have a lot of animals with the same name.

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Speaking of Peeves, I've already put in a request to be a poltergeist after I die, and I will be like Harry Potter's Peeves and follow people around making sarcastic remarks and spitting paper wads at them.
So just like in my real life.

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In my facebook memories:

"If I ever open a tattoo parlor, it's going to be called Tattooine."

You will not get it if you're not cool.
ALSO STILL A VIABLE PLAN SO DON'T STEAL IT. GAH.

Also in facebook memories:

"If you don't get my jokes, you probably don't deserve to be my friend."

#TrueStory

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I'm opting for National Need Books & Booze Month, or NaNeeBooBooMo.

Which reminds me I tried NaNoWriMo one time and did like two days before it completely fled my mind, which is why you will never ever have to worry about competing against me on the NY Times Bestseller List.
YOU ARE WELCOME.

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Also it's MOVEMBER so the air will soon carry the scent of Jovan Musk and Boogie Nights.

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Becca took The Littles (my nieces) trick or treating last night so she got paid in candy and I'm figuring out my fee but mathing is hard.

So, like 4 twizzlers, 12 bite snickers, 7 Reese's peanut butter cups, and 8 fun size three musketeers makes like, what, one regular size candy bar, right? #Frankenbar

Don't worry, I left Becca all the mounds, milky ways, and generic gross stuff.

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Don't forget, this Sunday the other half of your clocks will be correct.

cuttlefish and underwear.

You notice how when every single tentacle of your life is weighted down with stress (yes tentacle because CUTTLEFISH ARE AWESOME and I plan to come back as one only you will never see me because they have the best camouflage ever even better than Mystique because they can change color and texture AND HALF AT A TIME like when you order a half pepperoni half ham & pineapple pizza and Mystique could not even do that AT ALL)...

What? I forgot what I was saying.

Oh STRESS, tentacles, right.

For me, having the stress lifted off one or two of those areas completely causes a nearly tangible effect, and I can feel the weight lifting. It's like I have a full body sigh and everything relaxes, from my neck to hips to toes, my guts and lungs and brain, all at once.  I can actually feel my shoulders settling down to...well, shoulder height, instead of being all crunched up under my ears when I didn't even realize they were there.

Honestly the feeling is close to euphoria. I mean I don't feel like going dancing in the rain or coming to a Halloween party at your house (NO THANK YOU SORRY AND IF I ALREADY SAID YES MY APOLOGIES BECAUSE I WILL NOT BE SHOWING UP) or anything like that, but the utter sense of relief...it's like magic.

Losing the stress also made me realize exactly how many stress triggers I have.  WOW. You don't even know.  I mean I'm horrible online all the time anyway and you already knew that, but I've been a pretty horrible person in real life the last couple-three years too. 

I had so many triggers that I didn't even know what they all were.

SO many buttons just waiting to be pushed. Or touched. Or breathed on. 

 

Things have been pretty dire around here the last few years. 

I mean I've pretty much been poor-ish most of my life and it's nothin' but a thing...but the last 2 or three years, it's been a trial.

Seriously some weeks the budget was like ... is Joshua going to have chicken in his stew this week or will he have to go vegetarian?

eBay sales used to support us but some months we're lucky to make a hundred bucks and that's no exaggeration. Of course I'm so damn mad at them anyway, because they keep changing the formats and the layouts and the requirements to be a "Power Seller."  I mean I'm a TOP SELLER but I can't get my stuff on the first pages of keyword search because I don't take all their..."advice," and if it was left in their hands I'd list everything for .99 or best offer with free shipping and free returns and list 1K items per week. THEN I'd get noticed and sell more while of course losing money on everything.

via GIPHY

ANYWAY.

I was stressed over money every day but didn't even realize how bad it was on my body & mind.

So the thing happened and Becca got a new job, which equals happier attitude (and less GIRL IMA RIP OFF YOUR ARM AND BEAT YOU WITH IT from me) and more money and BOOM, less stress.
Then I got some side jobs I can do from home which are actually earning $ AND the biggie (and also one of the points I've been getting to here) - I FEEL PRODUCTIVE.

I am contributing more to my own household, AND taking back the majority of support of my family, which makes me feel useful and less like a loser at life and motherhood and all the things.

Being productive and busy and useful build a YUGE barrier against depression and anxiety for me.

I mean money doesn't buy happiness but I can tell you it almost brought me to tears when Becca asked if we had enough so she could get new underwear and I was able to unhesitatingly say YES! and bravely added AND GET ME SOME TOO PLEASE without even stopping to calculate.

If you've ever been actually, truly poor, you'll know just how excellent that feels.

It's like the thrill of victory.

I guess what I'm getting at here is that I slowly feel like the person I was 10 years ago is kind of waking up again.  The little things that could (and have) sent me into a shrieking frenzy are not so important now. 

My shoulders are where they should be (most of the time).

The stomachflutter of anxiety is nearly completely gone many days in a row

The angst is at least a foot away from me and sliding.

OH, I still have plenty of stress to go around, but at least it's more focused now, like on this boy of mine. That's never going to go away, and it's easier to carry.

Maybe Becca's not pushing my buttons so much because she's happier.

Maybe I just don't notice her doing it because I'm less stressed.

Maybe I'm finally on the downhill side and sliding to the finish line of menopause.

Maybe I'm evolving. (fingers crossed for cuttlefish evolution!)

Whatever it is, I'll take it.

Some stuff and things and so then that happened.

Here's how I know your inspirational cliches don't work - specifically "If you dream it, you can achieve it" because last night I dreamed that I was driving a rainbow van off a cliff but at the same time I was across the canyon watching it happen, and then I walked into a fountain and tried to punch some dude but strangely my arms weren't working and THEN THERE WAS A DRONE OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM WINDOW and it woke me up and wasn't there and also I dreamed I was awake but I wasn't and didn't know for sure until I was trying to talk and say HEY AM I EVEN AWAKE.

Okay "life coach," you tell me how to achieve that.
Also tell me WHY WOULD I EVEN WANT TO. 

I've been writing #FakeInspirationalCrap for years, *I* should be YOUR life coach because mine can actually be applied to real life.

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I've posted about the ghost that lives here (with photographic evidence!) a couple times over the years, but things have been pretty quiet and ghost-free for quite some time. 

So for our eBay business, I keep the inventory in sealed tubs with handle-lock lids.

A few days ago we were looking for a dress in a tub that resides in my "dining" room - a tub that either Becca or I have been through numerous times in the past few months.

Only this time, there was a bottlecap right near the top of the pile.

A bent bottlecap.

A bent beer bottlecap.

A bent Tecate "No Retornable" beer bottlecap.

Like this, only bent a little across the top.

Okay, maybe not weird for many of you, but here's what:

I have been through that dress tub and everything in it, down to the bottom, at least 50 times whenever I am looking for a dress listed at a certain time.
Anything that's been listed has been checked thoroughly, pockets and all, at least 2-3 times.

Also, I do not drink beer.

Also ALSO, I do not buy beer.

Also also ALSO, if I did buy beer, I doubt I would buy Tecate. 

Also also also ALSO, I don't even have a bottle opener.

WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?

How did it get in that sealed tub of clothes?

How did it even get in my house?

Who opened it?

Did someone come in my house and drink a beer and unstack 3 tubs of clothes

just to put their bottlecap in the bottom sealed tub and then restack everything again?

I mean nobody here takes ambien or any sleeping pills that might make us do weird sleep things.

And where is the bottle? There is no bottle. There hasn't been a bottle.

I don't ever have visitors, so no one has come over and brought their own beer.

If it was the ghost, who bought the beer for them? Or can he or she make themselves corporeal long enough to drink a beer? Or are they starting a bottlecap collection?

(HEY WHO ELSE DID THIS WHEN THEY WERE A KID AND NAILED BOTTLECAPS TO A BOARD?)

I tried to get an EVP recorded while asking any ghosts that might've been hanging around but all I got was the standard old "run, get out, I'm going to kill you,"** etc etc blahblahblah so I don't even count that. I mean bitchghost please, I've been in this house over 20 years, you've had your chance.

So that happened.

**#fakenews, no EVP captured at all but I did try.

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I was very recently reminded how lovely and refreshing and wonderful it is to be thought of, to be included, to be remembered, to be invited, even when the inviter knows full well you'll most likely have to decline.

So I want to remind YOU to please not forget your introverts. Don't forget your caregivers. Don't forget about those of us who really do hate to have to say NO all the time because there's just no way to make it happen.
Please keep inviting us. Please let us know you think of us once in awhile. Please be prepared to be okay with us saying no.
We hate having to say it sometimes as much as you hate having to hear it.
But at least we know you care.
And even if we forget to say it, we adore you for the thought.

This has been an Introvert and/or Chronic CareGiver Service Announcement.

Chicken Finger THUNDERDOME: 2 Fingers Enter - Only One Survives

Well, technically none survived.

So yesterday was a tough day on my little family - Joshua had an appointment with the orthopedic dr for his broken arm.
Okay, I know it's JUST a broken arm but for a multiple-disabled, non-communicative kid who is like a 6-9 month old, nothing is ever "just" anything.
Of course it was a little strain on Becca and me (he weighs about 85 lbs) moving him around all day but the worst part was knowing I was hurting him.
Joshua doesn't cry. He fusses, he whines, he hollers, he makes this moaning sound that I DETEST and he knows it, but he hasn't actually cried in about 10-15 years.  Yesterday though, getting him in and out of bed, wheelchairs, and the van...I hurt him a lot moving him.
When I put him in bed last night, he had tears in the corners of his eyes and I wanted to just die.

ANYWAY THAT IS NOT WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS WHOLE THING.

After the doctor and the tag agency (time to get new tags! Also wtf, THEY charge ME $1.50 to look at my insurance form I had to bring in? WHAT IS THAT ABOUT??)...Becca and I were not ready to go home and begin the unloading process - we were hungry and wanted some comfort food and decided to splurge and eat out.

So there's a Raising Cane's not too far away and then a Zaxby's on the way home, so we thought we'd just do a little Chicken Finger comparison for fun and share our results.
We got the same meal from both places: 4 chicken fingers, texas toast, coleslaw, fries, & each place has their own "secret dipping sauce." OH, and it came with a drink.
Price difference: Zaxby's was 20 cents more on the menu.

As you can see, Zaxby's has the bigger drink but Cane's has a bigger box. (*teehee!*)  Raising Cane's had asked if we wanted ketchup and I said yes, so we got....ONE KETCHUP.  And one napkin. NO.

So here's what we got  - and man, is that a LOT OF FREAKING FOOD.
FIRST THINGS FIRST: The Zaxby's fries were bigger cut (and a bit more generous), but taste-wise the Raising Cane's were much better and cooked more to my liking.  Zaxby's were a little overdone.
SECOND: We both preferred Raising Cane's Texas Toast, athough I have to say that Zaxby's seemed extra buttery as compared to usual.
THIRD: Look at that enormous container of coleslaw from Zaxby's!
But it is an optical illusion, because it is a very shallow bowl and only LOOKS so  much bigger than the smaller-around but deeper container from Cane's.  Cane's was pretty good coleslaw - they claim it's made fresh every day and we saw no reason to doubt that...but flavor-wise the Zaxby's was tastier for both of us.  It reminded me of when KFC used to have that really good, finely chopped coleslaw a long time ago.

Look at that sauce. It almost looks the same and guess what? It almost tastes the same.  Zaxby's (right) seems to be a tiny bit spicier and tomato-ier (or tangier, Becca said).  Basically though, I could barely tell them apart. I call it a saucy draw.

And now the main event - The Chicken Fingers.
Awww, they look sort of like a little chicken yin/yang!
Maybe this is why Zaxby's was 20 cents more, because clearly their chickens have bigger fingers. Also crispier, flavorful crust.  I like the crust a little more well done and dark and crunchy like that.
The lighter crusted, less well-done Raising Cane's fingers were actually pretty flavorless when sans sauce.  They were just meh. Juicy enough but nothing special, basically bland.  Without the sauce, they're no more impressive than frozen chicken fingers you can pop in the microwave.

THE AFTERMATH.
Although the fries & bread were better at Raising Cane's, the overall taste & size was worth the extra 20 cents at Zaxby's.
OH, and the service was friendly and fine at both, although I feel sorry for the Cane's person having to say HEY HEY HEY IT'S A GREAT DAY to every customer all day long because EW.

As you can see, we wanted to be completely thorough so as to give YOU the best possible answers to help with any dining dilemma you might ever have.
YOU ARE WELCOME.

THUNDERDOME WINNER: ZAXBY'S

This has been a public service.

Dinky Ink

I might be having a mid-life crisis but I can't afford a sports car (or any kind of new car, come to think of it) so I think I am about to get
MY FIRST TATTOO.

I've always *sort of* thought I might get one someday, but it just hasn't been important enough for me to really think about.  I love looking at other people's tats ( NO REGERTS!) and I've seen some gorgeous work.

I think I'm going to start small though.
Fairly tiny.
Because really I do not like pain and also I have to be able to cover it up so that my mother doesn't see it and call me a slut like she did my sister that time my sister got her tongue pierced when she was 18.
#TrueStory.
#FamilyDysfunction

ANYWAY - I have picked out two, and this is going to be my first Tiny Tat (coin not included):

And then depending on how much I cry and/or scream and/or overdramatize the pain, maybe something similar to this in the future, only not on the shoulder (also coin not included):

That one might be too ambitious though. Maybe on my 50th birthday.

An Advice Column

If you only knew how many times per week I think - I should write something on my blog! And then I go and turn a post into a Twitter reduction and pour the glaze on Facebook.
So my friend Neil of Citizen of the Month mentioned that he wanted to get back to regular blogging, at least once a week, just to basically reclaim the space. Then Melissa of Stirrup Queens said that she has a small group of people doing a thing called #MicroblogMonday, again, to take back our little space on the web.
I'm not much of a bandwagoner most of the time but since this happens to be something I was thinking of anyway...
Although in all fairness and honesty I tried 30 days of blogging (last year? year before? 5 years ago?) and failed miserably. But hope springs eternal and all that so here we are again.
PLUS I HAVE 56 FREAKING DRAFTS.
That's more than enough for a year's worth of once-a-week posts and I wouldn't even have to come up with anything new. Except some of those drafts are like....5-6 years old and wouldn't make much sense if I posted them now. So probably I will because it will make me laugh.

This draft is quite old and was clearly waiting on more inspiration but HEY, we work with what we gots.

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Don't be that person who is so self-involved and self-centered that *your* problems are the only "real" problems and everyone else's are just petty annoyances.
Because eventually, nobody likes that guy.

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Don't let your problem be that you listen to everyone tell you what your problem is.

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Don't confuse 'muscles' for 'mussels' unless you want a weird looking partner or a completely disgusting non-seafood dish. #SpellingMatters

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Don't be a know-it-all. People often love a wise-ass, but rarely like a know-it-all.
I should know. I know all of the things. Which is, of course, quite a different thing altogether.

Big Ol' Mess of Crap

I noticed someone came here from Blogcatalog.com...I didn't even know that was still a thing! I used to be a member but I sort of forgot about it when my blogging started to wither on the vine (DAMN YOU TWITTER & FACEBOOK!). Anyone else still use that place? I just visited and now everything says "Pin It" and "Share." Someone came to be from Blogshares this week as well -- I never figured out how to make that work, exactly. I would never cut it on Wall Street.
I liked it better when we just had a button on our sidebars and we went blog-hopping.

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Speaking of blog-hopping, remember how we'd daisy chain when reading blogs? I'd click one of the blogs on your blogroll, then one of the blogs on THAT blog's blogroll, ETCETERA ETCETERA ETCETERA (you totally just heard Yul Brynner's voice, din't you?).
Good times. I miss those days.

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One of the hardest realizations - for me, for my friends (and for you and your friends too, I bet) - is that when you're raising a disabled kid, you simply aren't going to be able to live a 'normal' life - whatever that means. Try not to take the little things for granted, parents. And stop judging other parents because you have no idea what they might be dealing with.
Also? READ THIS - it says what I feel. I mean it, go read it. We'll wait. YOU DO WHAT I SAY.

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Speaking of kids, Josh accidentally bit me on the arm when he was having a seizure the other day:

I can tell you THAT SHIT HURT. #WoundedInTheLineOfDuty

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#TrueConfessions:
1. Sometimes I am overcome with self-pity and petty jealousies...then I feel embarrassed and ashamed for it, even though no-one else knew. I AM MESSED UP.
2. I often feel like I've lost my sympathy, because sometimes my life is a Series Of Unfortunate Events. What I need to remember is that sometimes yours is too.

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When I read stories about the Texan who saw the sign that said "No swimming" due to a large alligator in the area who shouted "FUCK THAT ALLIGATOR" right before he jumped in and was subsequently killed by same, or stories about the dumbass who got killed launching fireworks OFF HIS HEAD...all I can think is natural selection.

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I AM SO TIRED OF HOT FLASHES AND WAKING UP WITH MATTED, SWEATY HAIR every morning! It looks like a dog's ass on my head. #PerimenopauseSucksAss

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I've unfriended/been unfriended by a couple of former friends (two people I've known longer than just about anyone else) who suddenly became obnoxious, hateful, and unreasonable - and the only reason I didn't block them is because I know they stalk my facebook page and I want them to always remember how fucking awesome I am. #SayonaraLosers

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That is all.
Have a day.

SCANDALOUS!

I've been binge-watching SCANDAL.

I know a lot of people are so crazy about this show, and I have to admit I found some of it fairly enjoyable myself.
However, there are some things I'm having trouble getting past.

1. At first I thought I was watching a re-run of West Wing, only with Meredith Grey's mommy AND daddy added to the cast. By season two, it was like a mashup of West Wing, Grey's Anatomy, and Gilmore Girls. Are there no other actors out there? (actually I'm not complaining, because I do love Josh Malina and Scott Foley and OMG GEORGE NEWBERN with whom I fell deeply in love when I first saw Adventures In Babysitting SHUT UP I KNOW I AM OLD)

2. Dear Kerry Washington fans: I'm sorry, but...seriously? EPISODE ONE. She has her game face on. She's taking no shit and no prisoners and makes a point of saying that her "gut is never wrong"...and then the next howevermany episodes consistently prove that her gut is ALWAYS WRONG. And the other characters make a Thing about "there is no crying here," and yet Kerry is teary-eyed in about half the episodes. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, SHONDA.

3. After the first two episodes, Olivia (Kerry W) seems to only have two expressions: scared/sad (which look exactly the same) or, whenever she's within sniffing distance of The Prez, she gets the lovestruck cow eyes. Totes unbelievable besides. OMG STOP IT. Most times when they're in the same room, it's like a live-action scene from a poorly written Silhouette or Harlequin romance book (perhaps they hired E.L. James of 50 Shades of Crap fame to write those scenes?).  Luckily there are a handful of (all too) brief moments in which Olivia shows some spunk and fire in a few other episodes. Dear Director: Please make her wipe those ridiculous gape-mouthed looks off her face in future seasons because it really makes me want to punch her and I surely canNOT be the only one.

4. Olivia sometimes does these weird twitchy mouth movements with her upper lip. It is not attractive, it looks unnatural and it distracts me. I have to use that 10 second rewind thingy a LOT to see what I missed while she was snarling her mouth around.

5. This is the only show I've ever seen that largely features the POTUS in which he is RARELY WORKING. Dude has lots of "just sitting around feeling sorry for myself" time and drinking time and "pouting because my mistress won't do me in the Oval Office" time and "My wife is such a bitch" time and "I hate everyone" time and there are never five people walking in one door of the Oval Office while three more walk out the door on the other side of the room. He hardly even meets with any Congress(wo)men or Senators and clearly he has plenty of time to make out with women other than his wife. Is all I'm saying.
#Trivia: The president is the bad guy who had Patrick Swayze killed in Ghost. (Whoops! Spoiler alert too late, if you're one of the five people who haven't seen that movie)

6.  #Trivia: FLOTUS was a shady-ass shark of an attorney on CSI Miami. As conniving and viciously ambitious as she is in the White House, if I were in her First Lady stilettos I would have totally punched Olivia and the President in the neck about 73 times by now for continually rubbing their affair in her face. I'm on her side on that issue. She took one for the team more than once.

7. By the end of season 2 I was totally bored of watching Olivia guzzle a huge glass (or three) of wine at the beginning and/or end of at least 1/3 of all the scenes. #SoCliche

8. Olivia's co-workers on the show AND the fans of the show talk about how strong and tough and whatever she is...but really? I think she's kind of weak. She makes increasingly poor choices and not only THAT, she makes the SAME poor choices again and again!  She and the President both are like petulant, tantrummy, self-pitying assholes half the time.

9. I tried playing a drinking game - I drank every time Olivia said "I'M DONE!" to one of the men in her life or clients or co-workers...but I almost died of alcohol poisoning.

10. The background music, especially the stuff they play during closing scenes, is mostly very excellent.

After 4 seasons, I have concluded:
I really only like the First Lady, especially when she went a little cray cray.
Oh, and the assassins. I really really like the assassins.
The music = awesome.

I will never be a big fan of this show and have no plans to watch the next season. I only finished out the series on Netflix because I kept hoping for something more. I feel it's a Shonda Rhimes Fail, at least for me.
Give me House of Cards ANY day.

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P.S. I still love you, George.

You will be amazed at how you feel after reading this! #UpworthyTitles

I used to write really crappy poetry.
Well, when put that way, it sort of sounds like I USED to write really crappy poetry but now I write AWESOME poetry!
Yeah, no.
It means I used to attempt to write some kind of weird poetry and it was shitty and it sucked and now I don't do that anymore, much to the relief of everyone who accidentally read it when they came here to see what was new.
I'll never be a poet nor an author nor even much of A Writer, because I'm not good at evoking feelings. I'm terrible at adjectiving (and I like to make up words even though when other people verb their nouns, I get super annoyed because #hypocrite), and I find writing dialogue to be tedious and I get bored of it after like...a half a conversation.
I mostly go for the short and sweet little punch of sarcastic humor...sometimes it works, sometimes it falls flat, and if you don't get my humor then you're probably just stupid I'm okay with that.

ANYWAY.
Some person in Norway was in my archives on this page of forgotten "poetry"... it doesn't even really qualify as poetry I don't think.
It's just a collection of random things I wrote on a napkin when one of the kids was in the hospital for a couple weeks with something or other (RSV most likely)...outside at 2am in the freezing cold, walking around the courtyard to stay warm, chain-smoking cigarettes and trying to hide in the dark to think...or to NOT think. Anxious to get back in to check on a kid, trying to remember when the next breathing treatment was due, hoping That One Nurse was NOT on duty tonight because UGH SNOTFACE...and at the same time dreading the return to the silent room with just the hissing of the oxygen and the beeping of the alarms when a sticky lead came loose or the saline bag needed to be changed, with softly creaking nurses shoes and murmured voices outside the door, alarms blaring from other rooms every now and again.
The scent of despair and fear and helplessness.

Yeah, this still sucks as much as it did so many years ago when I wrote it, but it did make me remember those feelings, so I guess it wasn't a total fail.

Past The Door

Eyes downcast
Strangers passing by

Never looking 
Into another's face
Bound together by fear,
loneliness, anger, resentment

Never speaking
Except to ask for a light
Smoking in silence
Each cigarette a tiny beacon
in the dark of night
Smoke obscuring expression

Alone with churning thoughts
in a group of many
Worry etched on each face
Helplessness in each eye

Never hoping
Afraid of what tomorrow might bring
Silent anonymity is a cloak
Protection from the unknown.

Tiny Houses

So I'm guessing most of you are familiar with The Next Big Thing, which turns out to be Tiny Houses. I see a fafillion of them in my facebook newsfeed - some of them are so adorable! Energy efficient, cost effective - many are pretty much completely run on solar power. I think there's even a TV show about Tiny Houses on a cable channel.
I am intrigued by the idea...every time I see those walls made completely of glass, looking out onto the gorgeous scenery, I really really want one. Then I think about having to clean all the pollen, dirt, dead bugs, and birdshit off those windows and it's a little less appealing.
I do like the ones made from those pod storage or shipping containers - I'd make a "double-wide" out of a couple of those. My mom wants a tiny house. My cousin and his wife just bought some land (near Luther, where *I* grew up and he visited during summers, coincidentally) and they're planning to build a tiny house as soon as they can shove their last nestling out into the Great Big World.
Since you know I'm totes lucky when it comes to finding excellent bargains, there just happens to be a Tiny House available right near me and I'm pretty sure I can get it fairly cheap! It's a bit of a fixer-upper, but I've got a few years left in me before retirement (HAHAHAH RIGHT, like I'm ever going to be able to Not Work), so I'm pretty confident I can do most of the work myself.

So I present to you....my Tiny House.

Sure, it needs some work - a good scrubbing and maybe a new coat of paint for the front door.
But it has a fireplace, and I bet that'll be good enough to warm the entire house!

Okay, it needs a good sweep-out inside too, but there's plenty of room for a visiting kid. And see? Built in bookshelves too!

It's got a tiny stove with an open window to enjoy the view while I'm cooking:

And a little sink for the washing up. It's even wired for a landline telephone in case I move the house to a place with no cell-phone reception:

I think I'll put my sleeping area by the fireplace so I will be toasty warm all winter!

It's even got a quick-slide exit that could totally double as a wheelchair ramp for Joshua:

Back patio where I can sit outside with my coffee and enjoy nature:

And it's even furnished with a deep-freezer chest - it comes with the house! How lucky can you get?

The current owners even started building an add-on barbeque pit...well, I guess it's not really a *pit* because it's elevated. But it'll perfect for backyard summer parties, right?

I will be sure to invite you over - one at a time, of course - for a series of housewarming parties when I get moved in. Make sure you RSVP, please.

A post in the style of early MTV

By which I mean it contains actual music videos.

Because I've had too much of this lately:

And not nearly enough of this:

Which means it's time for this:

That is all.

A challenge.

Most regular bloggers that I know have drafts in their post lists...I have, at present, 51 drafts. I also have 20-30 "secret blog" posts that no one is ever invited to view. Although sometimes pieces of those secret posts make their way over here, usually after I've had time (a few months) to let it settle and think it through. Some of my drafts are a single sentence. Or an idea for a blog title. Some of them...we'll they're so outdated (in draft status for more than 4 years) that I've forgotten where I wanted to go with the idea in the first place. So I have a question and a challenge: Q: How many drafts do you currently have? How old is the oldest one? C: Once a week, take your oldest draft and post it now. Feel free to update it so that you're not referring to "yesterday's" celebrity death of Patrick Swayze or Michael Jackson if you don't want to.

a day out of time

Apparently the 12th street Love's Country Store in Ardmore is a popular place for Kid Exchange. As we were transferring my kids/wheelchair/duffel bag from my van to the dad's truck, a lady pulled in next to me, a little girl with a suitcase got out & walked to the truck on the other side of my van, hugged Dad hello, hugged Mom goodbye, and the vehicles drove off in opposite directions. Then I went through the exact same scenario myself. A little funny. A little sad.

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As many times as I've been to Ardmore, I never knew that there was a tiny library tucked on a little side street right across the way from my hotel. A small-town library (one of two libraries, I came to find out) in a mid-size town...where silence is still golden without the buzzing chat and activity that I'm used to at the Midwest City library near my home. It was so small that even hushed voices could be heard clearly, but it wasn't disturbing. There was the white noise hum of machinery, the quiet clicking of mouses and keyboards, the occasional cough or cleared throat, and soft, soothing Muzak in the background that barely registered but added atmosphere. It was the most pleasant, relaxing two hours I've spent in a very, very long time.