Time is a cruel thing

As I reach the mid of my 40th year on this Earth, I realize that youth is no more.  I could still feel those rare remnants of it in my late 20’s or maybe I just didn’t recognize that time was marching on because I was stuck in the drama that was my life.  I did still feel it in my mid-thirties but that was due to weight loss.  I’m fat again never to be thin like I was 3 years ago due to many different health reasons, so youth….is disappearing.

20120422-142821My body is failing me.  I will soon be developing either degenerative disc disease or arthritis in my spine which pretty much keeps me from any of the weight lifting and hardcore cardio on the elliptical I did 3 years ago.  My thyroid is shutting down causing said fatness and I feel like an ugly round butter bean.  I was on such a high, 3 years ago. But the higher you climb, the harder you fall and psychically, I fell long and hard with no sight of getting back to where I was in sight

I only have memories, memories of a time where I could breathe, literally.  Memories of when I could smile.  I could smile even THROUGH the vast loneliness that consumed me, even while looking my best.

Youth is gone…..

I was just told by my mother a few days ago that the Frontal Temporal Disease my father of 64 had, is now full fledged Alzheimer’s.  This is something that began developing when he was 57…..57!   His brain, after a recent scan and compared to the last scan done 3 years ago, shows the signs of dark voids that most MRI scans of Alzheimer patients will show.


Not the actual scan but this is a good comparison

This both pisses me off and makes me sad.  My father has done nothing but work and work and work to stay with my mother, to uphold her standards of living, to keep us, since I was a child 40 years ago.  He didn’t divorce or leave her because he didn’t want to lose my sister and I as he lost his two children before from his previous marriage. Now I won’t claim to know all the reasoning behind his life with her. I only know what I see on the outside. And granted, his previous wife was a bitch from hell and took his kids (my older brother and sister) but that is neither here nor there.

His quality of life is no longer.  His youth is most definitely gone.  He can no longer speak or interact.  He does not react well to being outside his room where he just sits and watches T.V.  As of lately, it seems his brain can’t process small types of crisis such as, “I have the slight urge to go to the bathroom but I’m not dying” but his brain says “if I don’t go to the bathroom now, I’ll lose my mind and wail and scream“….the wailing and screaming he is starting to do more. That is very hard to see.  My mother, is diving into a pool of depression and frustration that she really isn’t becoming a good caretaker and the burden falls on my sister and I, but mostly my sister, who is starting to lose her own mind.  I sense that especially after a tear filled weeping conversation I had with her on the phone.  That is abnormal because this is a person who NEVER shows emotion and when I mean never…I mean…I have NEVER seen her cry past maybe once or twice in her 35 years of life.  The weight my mother puts on her/us and then how she repays us with ugly words and treating us like crap….I have little respect for her, very little.  She gave me life….and that is the extent of the decency I will show her.

I sometimes wonder, if this is God’s cruel idea of a joke


I tried to explain what my brain can’t process…

I had my sister over this past Saturday evening and the below commercial came on…..watch…

I laughed because the expression the father has as he goes to sit down then bounces right back up when he sees his son just did the stupidest thing ever……that expression can’t be explained in words.

I tried to explain this to my single, non-parent sister of age 35.  It wasn’t going to happen.  I just thank God it didn’t end in an argument which is usually how any conversations in current our relationship always seems to go lately.

I then found a great blog here and read this essay and I realized it would never be understood by those who weren’t playing the part.  I explained to my sister that the fathers’ expression and reaction was spot on by using the analogy of a skin cut.

Say you get a cut or a piece of your flesh ripped off. (Morbid I know but stay with me).  For the milli-second you feel nothing but see that your flesh is torn.  Then, the pain comes and in that milli-second where you felt nothing you do anticipate the pain coming but your brain can’t really process what you are looking at and what your are to expect.  It’s a mixture of brain overload.

That is this commercial.  I put myself in the shoes of these parents.  When the kid initially pulls out the table setting my brain would go…”NO!” then a full meal is on the floor. As he gets up and the mother stands there, staring, the brain is processing what the HELL just happened. Then in the next second you have a choice on how to react.

Now the commercial stops at the problem being solved by just ordering Domino’s. But it wouldn’t stop there for me.

I think I would lose all my shit on that kid.

And then I would feel like a shit afterwards.

But it is moments like this that the entry in the blog I referred to above relates to.  Moments like this actually have pushed my utter sanity to the very edge.  Moments like telling my kid who has a functioning brain for the 100th time to talk to his teacher about missing assignments.  Moments like hearing him argue with me back and forth like he’s about to win the O.J. Simpson case of a lifetime!

Then, I breathe.  Sometimes, I walk into my room, announce to him I’m closing the door to change and then sit on the lovely Paris bench at the foot of my bed and cry.  I cry like I’m about to swim in my own tears.  There is nothing more I can do.  I have gotten to the yelling point but it only makes me look like a woman gone mad.  So I walk away…and cry.  Which is what I’m sure that father who was one moment about to sit down to a nice family turkey meal would have done, had the commercial continue on.

This is something I try to explain to my single, non-parent sister of age 35 but it doesn’t get across.  I just get the look of confusion and judgement that….that one could not explain what they are feeling.  I believe even if she did have kids, those children would have been suppressed in so many ways since she is a type to not conform to life situation.

But then again, these are all assumptions. What do I know?



I don’t smile anymore…

I don’t smile anymore…not that I ever really did much of that in my lonely life.

There is no need.  There is nothing to smile about. Nothing to have hope for. I go to work, go home, deal with a kid who has the motivation of a soft boiled egg, play a wizard kiddie game on my computer, go to bed, rinse and repeat.  Nothing.

I’m getting old.  My body is failing me, slowly.  I can feel it.  It’s becoming harder to breathe, it’s becoming harder to move and with no adult human interaction in my life (and I mean that LITERALLY) or any laughter or joy of any kind, it’s becoming harder to just plain live through a day.

I gave up my whole life to be born to the woman I was born to and deal with her other daughter and I’m to tired for their loud drama.  I just want to tell them to shut up, I don’t care.

I gave up my adult life to raise a kid, by myself,while his father went to have a party.  And now said kid is turning out to be everything I can’t stand in a person.  He is like his father in so many way despite not even knowing him for a moment in his whole life.  He can be emotionless, caring for no one’s feelings.  Just dead inside to any drop of humanity.  It’s disgusting.

I fight back crying uncontrollably every waking moment of my existence and I’m ready for it to end.

“Laugh it up, Fuzzball…”

Apparently someone is laughing at me.

Maybe one of my multiple personalities is laughing at me.

All I know is that I was destined to be someones laughing stock.  I can’t help but think, it’s God.

I am sad today. I had to make the decision to not pursue a friendship with someone new.  My lot in life is to deal with my family, until death.  And I refuse to drag good people who deserve better, down with me.  I only encourage my son to run and run fast when he becomes of age…..run and RUN FAST!

I am sad.

So I work out.  I exercise and lift lots of weights.  I have no more hope or joy anymore but to keep losing weight.  It’s all I have control of.  Unless God decides to mess with that to, the one thing I still have control of in my life.


Yes, that is a machine I use and yes, that is 70 lbs of weights.  I’m lifting as much weight as I’ve lost.  That is truly interesting.

We can’t choose our family, of course but I will never understand why God thought I could handle mine.  Some days I want to rip throats out.

And I will never understand why God thinks I’ll develop a stonger walk in His path when the family He’s given me chases away any person I associate myself with.

Shit….now I’m getting fucking MAD!

Can I just get drunk now? K, thanks!

And it continues…

thCAG72OOWI really thought that my mother and I were on the road to recovery. As I said in a previous post, I’ve learned to let a lot of her comments go through one ear and out the other because, for the most part, she says things to me just to either pick a fight or to shoot down my dreams.  Or sometimes, she’s just in a bad mood and lashes out at me because, well because she can.  It’s a free country and all.  Either way, I’ve learn to try and deal with the hurt that comes with her words but sometimes, it’s hard and last night’s conversation with her, was no exception.

I was concerned about the email I got from my sister, and I began to question whether I do gloat or boast about my weight loss, or meeting more positive new people.  I, most certainly do not want to come off as boastful when I am trying to be encouraging.

But you see, I’m still working on realizing when the problem sometimes doesn’t lie with me, but the OLD me sends me into a place that makes me question my actions.

So I made the mistake of asking my mother if that was the case.  I knew the minute the question left my mouth that it was a BIG mistake.  This opened up a door for her to enter the room of “let’s make sure we point out ALL you are doing wrong, while we are at it”.  And she even said…”well you asked the question”.

Yes, that’s right I did, but I’m still learning.


It went something like this and I will jump in with points on how far fetched and ridiculous some of her comments are.  This is a real conversation.  I have made up nothing.  However, names and locations have been changed, to protect the innocent (and I hope that certain person doesn’t get offended that I’ve included them in this but no one knows who we are talking about anyway).

So here we go….

Me: Can I ask a question? Do I come off as boastful or show off with my weight loss?

Her: Well, you talk about it to much. You’re always saying how you are eating and what new size you are in.

Me: I may do that because I’ve never been in this place before in my life and I want to share.

Her: Well, you are always on recycle with your comments about your weight loss………

(then it began)….

Her: And now, you met this new person and what if you start to like him (I’ve known them for all of a little over a month. Jumping the gun a bit there?) and what are you going to do?  Are you going to take The Boy out of school, move to [a certain CA city]……are you going to move DOWN?!  And you haven’t been even going to church!

First, I have been going to church, I was just there last Sunday so she can leave that judgment at the door….and last I heard, I don’t have to answer to her regarding my church visits.

Second, let me explain the “Move…down” comment. I do not mean to offend anyone as these are NOT my words, nor my thoughts.

She means, that this certain city, where this church is that I want to visit and this new person who I’m befriending, is in a city that isn’t the best, although according to who, really depends.  I would never want to be associated with such a judgmental, non-humble type of thinking.  It’s disgusting.  And I find it very hard to keep my mind from wondering in the land of “what a hypocrite”.  Regardless, the snobbery that came out of that comment was appalling and really uncalled for considering; she lives in a pretty ghetto city herself.

Back to the conversation as the insults continue in the form of her thinking that I’m not putting The Boy first and, according to her, not feeding him…yes, she REALLY thinks I’m not FEEDING my child.

After the “moving down” comment…

Me: ..…….. (I decided that I would start biting my tongue after the “moving down” comment)

Her: The Boy doesn’t eat.  You need to feed him more vegetables and you shouldn’t feed him the Top Ramon.  (WTF?!?….last I knew, I’m the one who knows MY child best, lives with him and I’m constantly filling my fridge to accommodate his appetite).

Mkay so, the Top Ramon comment is because she saw 2 boxes of Top Ramon in my cabinet and laid in on me how that stuff is to salty and he shouldn’t be eating it every day.  First off, I agree, that stuff is super high in sodium.  Second, he doesn’t eat it every day.  Just like sweets, only in moderation.  But all she heard was “I’m feeding it to him morning noon and night”.

Also, to question that I’m not feeding him the proper nutrition, is just out right ridiculous.  I’m sorry, but WHO has lost 70 friggin pounds?  Again, I hate to come off boastful but the only way to lose that much weigh is to EAT….BETTER.  That means the items in my kitchen are not crap.  Hence, The Boy eats just fine.  Her theory, that I do not feed or that I feed my child crap, is severely faulty.

Going on….

Her: You are lying to me about something (……again, biting my tongue to bleeding at this point). You are lying about this new person you’ve met.

Me: (being VERY careful with my words at this point and just wanting to end this massacre of a conversation) Ok, I’m actually not lying about anything.  I’ve tried my best to be as truthful to all of you as possible in the positive way my faith and beliefs and attitude are going.  And that includes meeting new people who are on the same path as me.  I can’t predict the future so I can’t answer your “what if” questions.  I can only trust in God to know what is going to happen….

Her (Interrupting): *she laughs at my “trust in God” comment* Oh really?  Now you meet this new person and all the sudden you are all about God.

Me:  Um, well yes, even though God was already there but that is how fellowship with faithful people goes.  And it was always there…I just want it to grow.

Her:  You are hiding something from me about this new person. You think you are so smart but you still go back to lying and I’m not talking to you anymore.

thCA1QV66BI really am sick of being called a liar, at this point. If she wants to talk to a liar, she can go back to talking to her own sister.  I’m just flabbergasted because I’ve tried my BEST to be open and honest with my family as I’m not who I was a few years ago but that was just returned with my sister telling me to not talk about positive things around here because she is in a “bad place” and my mother with this conversation.  But this whole liar name calling is pushing my patience to its last limits as I’m pretty much done being called a liar, when I’m not.


Me:  Well, what would you like to hear from me because all I can tell you is that positive new friends and a new church environment in my life is exactly what is going on. I have no hidden agenda.

Her (Interrupting):  You are being elusive and I’m going to hang up….

Me: Ok, but I can honestly tell you I’m not lying and want to resolve this in a……

She hangs up on me.

You know, going through the crux of that conversation again makes me actually, physically nauseated.

This woman…..*sigh*…..this woman has always been prone to these hissy fits when she doesn’t get her way.  It’s like an adult sized toddler tantrum.  Her and my sister are so much alike.  They seem to personify “Misery Loves Company” to perfection.  Yet, if I were to EVER tell them to just suck it up and have some faith, as both have told me oh so many times, I would literally, probably get beat down.  And I mean, literally, beat and then ostracized.

Welcome to my family.


It’s just a sad state of affairs and hurts my heart more than makes me angry.

Over the past several months, because of other family issues and things I don’t agree about with my parents, I’ve pulled away, ever so slowly and ever so slightly, from them.  I am a mother and I have to think of my own child and that Boy is my absolute world.  My parents are not in a good place right now.  Even considering that it is mostly not their fault due to . I will always be sympathetic that my mother had a hard life, yet that excuse is slowly becoming tiresome. My father, he no longer can communicate or put sentences together and the last I heard, his memory is fading even faster.

thCA0CE7JLI will only pray for them now.

I am not like my Aunt who is someone who says they are walking a Christian path yet are an out right pathological liar, manipulator and cheat. I’m trying REALLY hard to find a better place for myself in this world. I’m trying hard to surround myself with more positive people who are gung ho all out for God. That is my road. It may not be anyone else’s, but it is mine.

I’m just having a hard time admitting to myself and accepting that my family, may not be able to go where I’m going. So all I can do keep walking my path and pray that the way I’m going can influence them to see that they can walk with me to, eventually

And to throw all the trash of our pasts away and look toward the future. But until then, I must pull away from them even more, especially if my “positive” attitude becomes a stumbling block.

Can you just STOP being so positive and happy please?!?!

No, I did not tell what this post is titled to someone.

I was told this…by my own sister.

First, I must collect my thoughts before I go through with this post. As I move on in my life, I’m finding that my family, is the crux of where most of my pain comes.

After all that I did for my sister in our last family debacle, creating a response to our aunt that was so intricate and detailed it allowed my sister the upper hand which, in turn, settled the feathers a bit, I got a huge stab in the back by her….I’m reeling.

Today, in an email, I sent my sister a link to a great message from a Pastor from a church near me that I’ve come to like listening to.  In this certain message, he was speaking about something my sister has been dealing with.  Now, my sister is a Christian as well, so I know that this is not me Bible Beating.  However, I’m on a new more positive path to meeting new people who share the same beliefs as myself and I’m open to listening to messages from other churches.  I shared this message with my sister because I thought it would relate directly with her.

I got this response back from her:

I know you are excited about [meeting new people], and I know that I should be a better sister, but I am not really at a good place regarding relationships, and if you always talk about it you may start seeing me back away, especially since I have had no luck on the [certain Christian online dating site] (I started to think it is me).

It is nothing personal with you, I know you are happy to be going out and meeting new people (that’s a good thing), but that is why sometimes I don’t talk to some of my girlfriends is because that is all they start talking about is the guy that’s in their life and then their world revolves around that person, and they have no sympathy for the single gal. I know you have been a single gal for awhile so I am sure you understand.

I hope that does not hurt  your feelings, but I felt like I just needed to be honest, and I was going to tell you yesterday in person, but you seemed rushed to leave to meet mom and dad.  I hope that your friendship’s do turn into finding someone (you deserve it!), but I just ask that it is not all of your conversation with me.

First, it is NOT all of my conversation. My conversation is more along the lines of how people of faith have influenced my thoughts.  I’m actually trying hard to see where it is all of my conversation!  And honestly, why SHOULDN’T I always talk about something positive in my life such as meeting positive people, etc.?

I’m telling you my jaw is hitting the floor with all this.

Second, I think the bolded part, is what disturbs me the most.  Unless I’m coming from left field about this, she is basically saying “screw anyone who is in a happy relationship or in happy friendships and how dare they show that they are happy in front of me”.  I mean if someone is in a relationship why the HECK can’t their world revolve around them? I didn’t realize this was Planet My Sister where she made the rules?

You know, my mother has hurt me a lot in my past with similar comments as this and at some point during those hurtful moments, I honestly thought I deserved it.  But now I’m wondering if these two really just don’t ever want to see me happy?  I would never say that is for sure but I don’t know what to think anymore!  I’ve since forgiven her for alot of her painful words and have moved on.  But this, I really don’t know what to think of this but I know that I didn’t deserve this.

Or I’m just to sensitive and wear my dumb heart on my sleeve. But I know, in my heart, that if the tables were turned, if I were in her shoes, I would NEVER EVER, have said what she did in that email.  I would never have selfishly tried to bring her down.  I would have kept it to myself.

So unless, I’m completely off here, what I get from this is that if my sister sees me going in a positive direction, or actually being happy for once in my life, she does not want me to SHARE it with her, whether I give the Glory is to GOD or not.  She wants me to not talk about or be positive because SHE is in a bad place?

So, then, basically, she doesn’t want a relationship with me because my very presence may emit positivity?

Someone tell me I’m wrong in thinking that is the most SELFISH thing I’ve ever heard!

On top of how hurtful this all is, it’s amazing how she decides to see my positivity as gloating?  And being that I’ve lost a lot of weight and now weigh less than her, by a lot of pounds, just my very presence, as I mentioned above, is gloating.

I have been betrayed by the last of these people who I only share blood with.

I’m appalled…..yet, I’m so sad for where she is right now….so very sad but I refuse to be pulled into her Misery Buffet.


“The idea of Summmer…and all things….HOT…”

Yeah, I just couldn’t think of a title but oh how much I love that Snowman!

If you are reading this, you might want to make sure you have the time and grab a coffee and pull up a chair.  This might be a long update.

So, this morning, I drop off The Boy at before care and the room is all dark and every single child is staring at the tv and singing along to our favorite Snowman….

I proudly announced that his voice and that “Summer” song is my ring tone…I have no shame!  I love that Snowman!

Happy Anniversary!  You registered on WordPress.com 1 year ago! Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging!

Yes, it has been 1 year that I’ve had this WordPress blog open. It doesn’t seem that long yet, it kinda does. I think that may be because of the massive amount of writing I’ve put into this thing and how much of my life history I’ve revealed.

4th Grade Project

THearstCastle-712894his month is 4th grade project month.  Apparently, 4th graders are no longer tied down to doing just a Mission located here in California.  At least my kid’s school isn’t requiring a California Mission.  We get to choose any California landmark we desire.  I decided….oh I mean THE BOY….decided Hearst Castle in San Simeon, CA.  How the HELL I’m going to make a model of this thing now has me worried that I may have bit off more than I can chew…but it’s THE BOY’s project…right? It doesn’t reflect at ALL on me..right?


But regardless, I will try to create the front of the Castle, some trees in front then the Neptune Pool.  The pool I already have an idea of how it’s going to be made.  It’s the Castle I’m worried about.  But supply shopping will soon commence at the Walmart and Micheals.

It’s due May 7, so I have a good month to do this….ahem..I mean THE BOY has a good month to do his project…


I’m still, miraculously, losing weight.  There are ups and downs.  I got on the scale one week and gained 8 lbs, then got on it again the next week and lost the 8 and a few more.  So it’s hard to gauge what will happen but it doesn’t matter.  As long as I can still run on that treadmill, breathe when going up stairs and fit into a size 8.

And that I NEVER see that scale tell me 245 lbs ever again.

I have not visited the clinic nor got an injection for a month now.  I’ve also been completely off the appetite suppressants.  However, I may return to the clinic and pay off the last $200 for another 10 weeks soon.  After, that 10 weeks, if I’m diligent, that should be it for me on losing the initial weight.  Then it’s maintenance from here until I die.  So I will continue to remain 95% carb free, for the rest of my life.  I will constantly monitor portions and make better choices.  I will forever keep my exercise level high.

LilySlim - (hgaY)

But as of this date, I have lost a total of 71 lbs. That is more than what The Boy weighs!  And, I’m not longer in the “Obese” section of the BMI charts. I’m simply “overweight” now…..

So apparently a size 6/8 and looking like this….is overweight.  But hey, at least I’m not “Obese” anymore!

Yeah...I hate selfies...ugh...

Yeah…I hate selfies…ugh…


Well surprise surprise!!..…a family member has officially been cut off and guess what.…IT ISN’T ME!

In the past it would have been me considering some of the crap I’ve pulled.  But it isn’t, (BTW, the relationship between myself and my mother is GREATLY improved.  She still sometimes says things that I have to roll my eyes at but I’m able to do just that and it’s all good).

My aunt, my mother’s sister, is officially cut off, monetarily and emotionally, with anything to do with myself, my sister and our mother and father.  There will no longer be any interaction between us and her.  If she has the gall to call my mother up on the future asking for money or whatever, my mother has been instructed by myself and my sister that she is to not answer the phone, lest she desires to feels our wrath.

Believe me when I say that this decision was tossed around a lot and has lots of merit behind it.  My aunt has burned her last bridge with these latest shenanigans she pulled.

My mother’s other sister, has also cut their sister off in the capacity listed above.  I am actually not going to go into detail because, even though it included a possible legal battle and my aunt just being a manipulator and pathological liar, it is very convoluted and honestly, to embarrassing to even admit here.Who opened the closet

I know one thing is for sure regarding my family.  I am REALLY sick and tired of new “skeletons” that keep coming out of our family closet every so often.  With this new debacle, even more skeletons have come out and honestly, I don’t know who or WHAT to believe anymore.

I’m just glad that my son isn’t near some of the “skeletons” and I just want to be done with it all.

I so desire to shake my family tree of all its skeletons and bury their bones forever.


Life will always continue to surprise me and people surprising me is no exception.  As my aunt has surprised us all by betraying the family, my ex-husband surprised me to the point of humility.

Wait…does anyone know what temperature it is in HELL!?


So, back in December, I decided I needed to go back to court to get the ex to pay a bit more child support only because, according to our current incomes, he should be paying about $400 more a month.  So I got that started, got my previous attorney to work on it and got it filed.  Earlier this week, my attorney tells me that my ex got his own lawyer and wants to negotiate….ugh.

I think the worst. I mean what is there to negotiate?! If he thinks he can weasel back into The Boy’s life after 8 years of nothing just so he can pay less in child support….screw that!  I know that is the worst possible scenario, but that is where my mind went and, apparently, it didn’t need to.

Long story short, I spoke with my ex yesterday and he agrees to all that I have requested, which is the higher monthly child support payment and the $600 he owes me from a washing machine we bought back when we were married that he was ordered to pay and never did.

I think my jaw literally fell to the floor.

Am I being tricked?

Is he lying?

Did I land in Bizzarro World?!?!


Well, no I don’t believe he is lying.  I think he knows that if it goes to court, a judge would “hand him his ass on a platter” as a new friend of mine so poetically and precisely put it.  I would assume, he is just laying down the sword and realizing his defeat.

I know that gloating and pride are not qualities that God promotes and being a women of faith I would rather not gloat but I have to say that for the first time in 10 years, I feel like a HUGE weight has been lifted off me and that this particular fight is just about over and I may have won.  Now, I won’t be so naïve as to think that something else might not come up as life has many plot twists but my ex only has 8 more years to be obligated to pay child support and I believe that this issue of an increase might come up one more time before the 8 years are up, but until then, I am the victor.


So that ended rather amicably and a HUGE weight has been lifted off me because this Boy is getting SUPER expensive what with torn jeans every few weeks, new shoes every month and hockey gear…I barely have money to get myself $1.99 Suave shampoo!


  • I miss Disneyland visits so much.  I don’t see a renewal of a pass anytime in the future.
  • The Walking Dead, Season 4 is over…and if you don’t know what I’m talking about, that’s ok.  If you do and haven’t seen it…don’t get mad at me when I say I would turn into EXACTLY  the same kind of person Rick has turned into.  And yes, I would have ripped that guys throat out with my teeth…if he was attacking my kid and double yes, I would have stabbed my kid’s would be attacker 50 million times.  Rick did exactly what I would have done, to protect my child.
  • New Season of Game of Thrones starts Sunday!
  • So! Who is taking me to go see Captain America! The Boy doesn’t want to see it but I do! Who’s coming with me?!?!


Lastly, I would like to give a shout out and I hope that this person doesn’t mind me giving him a shout out.

At one point in my life, just after losing my best friend, I honestly thought that God did not intend for me to develop any kinds of friendships.  I couldn’t find anyone that matched the connection that she and I had.  I believe that we were soul mates but not in the romantic sense.  More in a sisterly bond sense, yet we shared not one drop of blood.

However, along the way I have run into some truly fascinating people who are genuine, kind and willing to make a connection.  Some have stuck around in my life (cue in a wonderful couple who live up north who I think are the best EVER! And yes, I will give Elder Scrolls a chance).  But for the most part, it’s been a lonely life that I have built many walls around.  So, to make a new friend is a huge positive for me.


I would just like to tell this person, and you know who you are, thank you SOOO much for giving me a chance, being patient and breaking down the walls I’ve built up around me.  I know that as individuals, we run into many people on a daily basis, not knowing anything about them.  We affect them by our actions and you have affected me tremendously.  You are the positive friendship that my little weak faith needed, in God and in people.

Thank you so much for listening to me this past week.  You have NO idea how just being able to get things off my chest has helped me.  I greatly appreciate all the effort you’ve put into getting to know me.  You are a truly blessed person and the friendship we are building is important to me.

And with that, until the next time, that is all for now.


38 years Married

HappyAnniversaryMickeyandMinnieToday, my parents celebrate their 38th wedding Anniversary.  Even if I met a man tomorrow and married him the next day, I probably couldn’t make it to almost 40 years of marriage simply because I would probably die first.  Not many now a days can claim that many years married to the same person.

The length of their marriage, I believe, is the reason why I never had a successful marriage and my sister will never be married.  It’s kind of like a curse.  My parents are soul mates only in the fact that my father allowed my mother to rule the roost, so to speak, but on all levels.  He made no decisions without her and did nothing without her.  He allowed her to run all with very little input from himself and putting up with her antics and believe me, she threw out some whopping doozy of adult tantrums from what I remember, even though she denies them all to this day and apparently, I was living a different childhood with different parents than from what I remember, so I’m the crazy one.

I’m really not putting down that they have been married for 38 years because I really do  believe that one can not live without the other, even though one (my mother) wouldn’t admit to it but probably will if she is the spouse left standing, should my father die first.  But more important to my “curse” theory is that I believe that a man like my Dad is the only type of man who would be able to deal with a woman like my mother and even women like myself and my sister. We are VERY tough cookies to crack, if we ever get cracked and we tend to be over dramatic and have non-diagnosed Biplor as well, no joke.  I think I’m a little more pliable and controlling of my rants than my sister and mother as I have more of an emotional side than they do, hence, I tend to be a more tender person.

So, I firmly believe there is no man on the planet suited for our types of personality.  I stand by that assumption because my sister and I are both alone and tolerant of very little.  My sister is worse than me.  I’m just exhausted of dealing with men who are out right assholes, which is pretty much all of them.

So Happy Anniversary to my parents and thanks to you both for making sure that my sister and I never have a long lasting marriage or marriages at all because you have had such a “successfully” long one.

A few days until Xmas

And I’m still just not feeling it. Or I’m on the fence about how I’m feeling. I did get excited when I found a singing house just a few blocks from my apartment and plan to get The Boy, coffee and hot cocoa, and just parking the car in front and enjoying. I love when people light up their houses and sync the lights to music.

Holiday-shoppingOn the re-opening of my child support case, I ran into a snag. I used some of the $2000 my mother gave me and didn’t have enough to cover the $2000 check I sent to them. In my defense though, I did use it to finish my Xmas shopping.  I know..I know…I already ripped myself a new one for not planning that properly. Anyway, I got it squared away with the help of a nice Xmas bonus check given to me yesterday, $60 given to me by my ex-husband for medical co-payments and prescriptions (demanding that money from him was at the advice of my attorney) and my current child support amount posted this morning. I now have enough to finally pay my attorney to start this case. I get more money on Friday from my paycheck but not much since I was out sick for a few days without pay.

handing-over-moneySo that will be all for me regarding money until after the New Year. Hopefully, I don’t get my utilities and cell phone shut off since I had to forgo paying those bills JUST to save Xmas.  I barely had enough to send frozen waffles to The Boy’s class for his Xmas Breakfast they are having.  I wished I were exaggerating when I say that my fridge has been empty for weeks, and I can’t afford frozen waffles.  I get to make the fantastic choice of gas or food or getting utilities shut off or being late on my rent all the time and I normally don’t choose the late on the rent option because it only takes being 3 days late before the apartment has Sheriff knocking on the door, kicking me out.  It’s happened once before and the fees to get that all straightened out was VERY painful.

The-Lone-Ranger-2013I do still need to pick up The Lone Ranger DVD for my dad.  He is a bit of a cowboy fanatic in his old age.  It’s kinda cute.  I actually went into his “Retirement Man Cave” just last week for pretty much the first time in months and I was very impressed with how strategically he has placed John Wayne posters and cowboy paraphernalia on the walls and around the room.  It warmed my heart because that small room, is exactly who my Daddy is.  He said he wanted The Lone Ranger DVD for Xmas since I couldn’t really get him any more paraphernalia as the walls and every inch of the room was stuffed.

I am taking some money and very much looking forward to seeing Saving Mr. Banks on Friday night and we have Universal Studios planned for Saturday.  I’m not feeling much into the Amusement Park mood mostly because I will not be seeing the Xmas Disneyland decorations for only the 2nd Xmas in the past 9 years and as silly, childish and stupid as it sounds, it makes me so sad to the point of tears. But I guess Grinchmas will have to do.

I’m such a spoiled brat.

Oh look at that…I’m still alive…

I guess now would be as good a time as ever to write up the world’s longest update post.

The end of 2013 is proving to be full of twists and turns and even loop holes.  I will break it down into a few different sections, more to satisfy my OCD than anything else.  So without further adieu, the last few months of my existence, broken down into categories and in no particular order, (I warned you all about my OCD right?).


There is never an easy or 1, 2, 3 type divorce.  Although I will admit, my divorce 10 years ago went as much in my favor as it could have, especially compared to other divorces.  However, I knew the day would come when I would have to dish out another chunk of money to get what I needed.  That day has come.

As of this week, I borrowed a nice chunk of money from my parents and I have put down a huge retainer to re-hire my previous divorce attorney to re-open my case from 2005.  The decision to do this was prompted because I realized that my ex-husband makes a lot more money now than he did back in 2005 and I make a lot less than I did back in 2005. child-support-image-624x499

My attorney, after roughly looking at our incomes, feels I should be getting double of the child support that I’m currently receiving.  The main thing going against my ex-husband is that he has 0% time with The Boy.  He hasn’t seen him in almost 9 years.  I am 100% full custodial parent, therefore, all expenses, on a 24/7 basis, come out of my pocket.

If all goes well, instead of $496 monthly child support I currently get, my attorney is going to see I get close to $1300 a month.

That amount is according to my yearly income and my ex-husband’s yearly income.  That number is not me wanting to clean my ex out….it is based on our incomes, nothing more.

That is how much MORE he makes than me, yet I have The Boy 100%.

Sounds friggin’ fair to me!!!


Rose Smith: Money. I hate, loathe, despise and abominate money.

Mr. Alonzo Smith: You also spend it.

—Quoted from “Meet Me in St. Louis”

money22Money can prove to be another love/hate relationship that I have developed.  I hate that life in general depends on it.  For the past few months, I’ve been seriously living paycheck to paycheck, as I’m sure all of America is.  However, my last resort is moving back in with my parents and in all honestly, I would rather slit my wrists that do that again.  Nothing against them, we just cannot live together, it can’t happen.

I also hate that I don’t have enough money to enjoy life.  And don’t tell me “oh you can enjoy life without money”.  It’s a lie.  Sure I can go for a walk or take The Boy to a park but does it cost gas to drive anywhere? Yup.  And maybe the walk would cost nothing, until someone gets hungry or wants ice cream.

Then, don’t get me started on how I can’t keep food in my fridge at all.  Remember, I eat nothing.  Some nights, my dinner consists of a bowl of corn flakes or 2 hard boiled eggs.  That kid is eating me out of house and home and still demands more.

That is why I am taking my ex-husband back to court (see above).  I mean sure I could live in the ghetto and my kid could go to the worst school in the state but I’m going to try everything I can to keep off of welfare and keep out of the ghetto.  Call me a snob if you want but that is just how I was raised.  No free hand outs and all options must have been tried before it becomes dire straits.

It all keeps adding up though.  My car also needs about $1000 of work done and I have the warning lights popping up left and right.  I need all new tires as the ones I have are apparently balding.  I need new brakes and a couple of other things. But it all added up to well over $1000.

I’m hoping that I can squeeze as much out of my tax refund in February as I can to pay back my parents for the divorce attorney retainer and get my car fixed and then, that leads me to…

The Cat

As I posted back in October, my cat spent three nights in the hospital due to Kidney failure and dehydration.  They were able to get him into much better shape and I took him home.  Since then, I’ve gone out of my way every month to get his supply of Renal LP food directly from the vet and he has been doing fine.  I was told he might need about $600 of dental work done at a later date.IMG_20131210_222227

The past few days, he has been doing the gagging thing while he eats, again.  I believe it is due to his teeth.  I was hoping, being that he is 5 years old and half way through his life, I would be able to get through the next 5 or so years with no problems.  That is what I get for thinking.

There is no way I can afford another $600 of dental work and the two credit cards I have are already maxed out what with having to squeeze money from my ass to pay for my divorce attorney.  I am no longer getting approved for any more credit so I’m at my credit card cap.

I’m going to play it by ear and try and mush up his food as best as I can to get him to eat without gagging.  He also needs to learn not to scarf down his food, even though he is an animal, he can’t eat like one or he chokes.  I’m hoping just mushing his food and giving him little bits will help him eat slower.  But he is a stubborn cat….if he starts to associate the food with him gagging, he won’t go near it and he can’t, nor will he, eat any other store brand food.  The food I give him now is a vet prescription for his Renal failure.  He could go back to starving himself again.

I don’t even want to think about losing that cat…damn him…I love him so much.

Ugh..moving on…


Meh, the end of November/beginning of December was tough.  I didn’t exercise much because of Thanksgiving cutting into my routine and of course Thanksgiving provided plenty of food to eat but I tried to steer clear of carbs and just eat turkey, lots of turkey.

Then the week after Thanksgiving, my lower back when out and I got the flu. I was out of work for 2 days last week.  I just need a really long deep tissue massage because the amount of stress and pain that is piercing my back and neck daily is almost enough to make me scream.  But how much does a massage cost? and oh..that’s right, I have NO husband to lightly rub my back for me so, a simple massage is in my dreams.  I’m still waking up with no strength in my lower back to even sit up.  I also believe alot of it is my sciatica because the twinging pain goes down both my legs pretty much all day.  I’m just living with it.

thSo day by day I endure the physical pain and just smile and nod so everyone thinks I’m holding it together when in essence, I just want to rip my spine out and pop it back into place.

But that takes me into….


375x321_lose_weight_fast_how_to_do_it_quickly_ref_guideAh, here is another part of my daily existence I have to constantly be thinking about.  I must monitor all that goes into my pie hole.  Actually, I don’t mind doing that and the My Fitness Pal app really helps out with monitoring food intake versus exercise output.  It is when I lack exercise that I start to feel my muscles that I’ve worked so hard on developing, start to deflate like a pierced balloon.

However, I have managed to maintain my weight and the total loss of 62 lbs.  I’ve gained nothing even though I haven’t been on the appetite suppressants for over a month and haven’t been to visit the clinic for the injections due to me needing to pay a balance to start up another 10 weeks of visits.  So in essence, I can do it on my own.  But I still have at least 30 more to lose before I get to the “on my own completely” point with only visits to the clinic for the vitamin injections and maintenance.  However, I just bought a size 8 pair of pants making me officially down 10 pants sizes since April, from a size 18 to the now size 8.

And guess what?  According to the BMI charts, I’m still in the “Obese” category so apparently a size 8 is obese.  The BMI charts can kiss my size 8 ass.


I broke down and paid for a membership on Christian Mingle.com  I haven’t been on there long enough to really establish my opinions about it but on the surface, it seems like there are a lot less crazies there than Match or any of those free places.  Those free sites are scary. Uh, yeah…I think my opinion is starting to become established.  So called “Christian”‘ men are just as much ass holes and jerks as any other man, if not worse.

I really just can’t move in a positive direction in the dating category.  I have a condition that doesn’t allow me to deal well with men who are sarcastic, egotistical and want only one thing.  Then throw in someone who thinks they are better than you in every way, and I’m done.

I have better things to do.

The Boy

One of my favorite movies

One of my favorite movies

I really can’t put my finger on what kind of relationship I have with The Boy.  There are parts of his personality that are coming out that I really do not like.  He argues way to friggin’ much.  He also gets way to moody and in a stinky attitude if he doesn’t get his way.  I’ve taken to just sending him to his room when he gets the pouting face and stinky attitude if he doesn’t get what he wants.  I don’t even want to see him.  Then, minutes later, he comes out all wanting hugs and cuddles and I’m like “really kid?”.  I’m telling you, he is bipolar.

Then again, he comes from me and I’m riding the roller coaster of emotions sometimes.  However, ungratefulness is something I won’t tolerate and I think I spoil him.  He is becoming greedier and greedier each Christmas and that just doesn’t sit well with me.  It reflects off of me and makes me look pretty bad.  But I have to remember, I am fighting more “Nature” than anything and he still has his father’s assholery genetics.  I spend a lot of my energy trying to erase genetics and that may be a losing battle.

But damn did I make a good looking human.  My kid is so handsome!

The Family

Ah, my family.  I find it truly interesting to love and despise someone, at the same time.  My mother, I just don’t know what to feel about her sometimes.  I think I need to just makes friends with the fact that it is just what it is.  She and my father took money out of my father’s retirement to give to me to retain my divorce attorney (see above) and if I hadn’t been given that money I wouldn’t have been able to move forward with changing my child support.  For that, I love them both.Funny-eCards-9

But sometimes, she just needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.  However, in her defense, we all kind of do.  I know I tend to have foot in mouth disease on occasion.

My sister, she is on the losing weight bandwagon now which is an even bigger motivation for me to stay at a weight below her.  She has also joined a medical clinic as I have and takes the appetite suppressants and tries to cut out carbs.  She has lost about 10 lbs so far.  I really hope that this is the breaking point for her as it has been for me.  I hope that she tells herself to never go back and sure, we may falter and eat one to many pieces of pizza but we get back on track.  She needs to get a hold of her body more than me because her weight really brings her down desperately and she really becomes very scary to be around and her depression becomes palpable.

We cancelled the Montana trip on Christmas week to visit my other sister.  It was going to be to expensive and time consuming and I really couldn’t take that much time off work but more importantly, there was NO way I was taking a 3 day/3 state driving trip with my mother, father and sister.  I would have run us off the road just to end the anguish.


I have moments where I feel I have failed at just about every aspect of my life.  I failed at my marriage 10 years ago.  I failed at being able to support my child and myself financially because I’m living paycheck to paycheck and sometimes not even with enough in a paycheck.  I feel I’ve failed to work on myself so that I could attract a decent male to accompany me in this journey of life.  I really think there is just something wrong with me which is why I don’t have a man.  It’s not my weight because I don’t have that issue anymore.  I thought I was just plain ugly which could still be the case but maybe, I just have a rotten personality, which is why I attract absolutely no one which explains why I don’t have a husband or friends.  Or it could be that men are jerks (see Dating section above).thCAROPVN4

I’m not confirming that is the case, I’m just throwing out theories because I just don’t know but this is where the depression stems from.

I’m going to be brutally honest here but, sometimes, I get so lonely that if there was a sharp object or even gun around, I can say that I would not be writing this post at all…it would be over.  I think it comes to that point because of the type of person I am.  I crave affection and human touch.  I haven’t had an adult hug me, that wasn’t my parents or sisters, in the past 10 years.

DID YOU READ THAT…10 YEARS!  It’s like my soul is dying inside of this shell of flesh I walk around in.  But I don’t give in because I just keep thinking, “Who would take care of my son”.  I mean if something did happen to me, my sister would step forward and even though we disagree on a lot, there are aspects of raising children we do agree on and I can trust to her follow my footsteps.  But I wouldn’t be there.

Damn Satan and his invention of Depression.

But then I move onto…..

Things I’m looking forward to….

Christmas, although this year, I really haven’t been feeling the cheer of it all.  Mainly that is because of the lack of funds for all the big things The Boy wants but then I get annoyed at his greediness and selfishness sometimes.  But it could also be because I’m just plain alone.  I have no one to share any of the season with, other than The Boy but that is not the same.  I put up all my decorations all alone and I sit, each night, looking at my tree, all alone.  It all really just makes me so depressed.

However, I do love this season.  I love that it gets cold (even though, as I get older I realized the cold does a nasty number on my bones).  I love seeing all the decorations and lights go up on houses and driving at night to see them.

There are also some fantastic movies coming out.  Saving Mr. Banks is #1 on my must see list, along with The Hobbit and Madea’s Christmas.  I enjoyed Thor immensely and really like the whole storyline and the tie up with all the Avengers and Shield.  Yeah, I’m a nerd like that but I love it.

Olaf-In-Frozen-Movie-HD-WallpaperI also saw Frozen and actually really enjoyed it.  My favorite character was Olaf, the talking snowman who likes warm hugs and longs to spend a day warm in the sun on the beach…poor delusional snowman.  There was one scene where he had me laughing long after the scene was over.  I haven’t laughed like that in so long it felt good.  I loved him so much, the next day I went to the Disney outlet and got me an Olaf plushie of my own.  I give him warm hugs.


Ah yes, that omnipresence that hovers over me telling me not to give into sin and temptation yet insists I endure day after day of temptaion and sin topped with lonely heart ache.  The Good Lord is also turning out to be another love/hate relationship with me.  I will never understand why He thinks my life of loneliness will ever prompt me to want to follow Him fully and purely, but on the other hand, I still do.tumblr_lqqtbpkVFB1qj065bo1_500

It’s also apparent that even though I’ve lost enough weight to be down 8 sizes He makes a point to show me that the weight wasn’t the problem.  The fact that I’m pretty much the plainest and to put it simply, ugliest person on the planet, keeps me from ever getting rid of my life of loneliness.  Of course, in all of this I’m using satire (so don’t start telling me I have some sort of self perception disorder) to get the point across but the point is, God wants me to be alone.

Thanks God.  Let’s just come to terms with the fact that You’ve pretty much left me to rot in a sea of loneliness and even though You’ve made sure to flaunt every single happy couple in front of me during this lonely holiday season, I will still follow You because it’s better to be lonely in this life of flesh than burning for eternity in the Lake of Fire.

Right???  *sigh*

Last but not least…

funny-birthday-ecards-15I found one thing that I do very well.  Getting old

On Dec 2nd I turned 37 years old.  Big Friggin’ Deal is what I say.  I am not growing old gracefully and hate that my youth is being wasted away in these lonely, terribly lonely years I have to look forward to.  So my birthday is just a reminder of the day that this lonely life of mine began.   I could care less about it.

I think that all just about covers it.

Yeah, can I just spend the rest of my life drunk?


I know, bad title especially for those who do deal with drinking problems, but I really have to admit…these past few days I’ve just wanted to drink my existence into oblivion.

I’m so emotionally drained.  The cat threw up on Saturday but the reason why is unknown to me.  He may have eaten to fast or something.  He hasn’t thrown up again and is seeming to be doing fine.  He is VERY clingy to me now though.  Now, he only eats his dinner IN my lap, nowhere else.  I would feed him all meals in my lap if it would get him to eat and gain weight but I have to work and can’t.  So, only his dinners are in my lap, on the couch.  I will now have to work my evening schedule around lap feeding my cat.  What’s funny is if you knew this cat’s personality, being clingy and cuddly is NOT what this cat is about so the constant “I MUST be sitting right on your lap” attitude he’s adopted is new for me.  I like it, but then realize, it’s just another whiny, clingy living creature I have to contend with.

I also have to give him medications, twice a day.  Antacids, for the upset tummy and Antibiotics for the mouth infection.  Apparently, there is no easy way to give a cat medications through a syringe or dropper.  He fights me every time and sometimes, sprays the medication all over the place and me because he shakes his head.  This morning, I made the mistake of getting fully dressed for work BEFORE giving him his meds.  Let’s just say I had to change just before walking out the door.

The total cost for this whole ordeal, after 3 nights of hospitalization, the initial first visit and the two meds and special food: $916.00  I have no words….

Anyway, the other clingy, whiny creature I contend with is The Boy.  I swear, I love that kid to death but he seriously needs to just grow a pair.  Harsh, I know, but he whines and complains at every little scratch or bump.  He hit his head while playing soccer at school and got a sore in his mouth, where the ball hit him.  Now it’s whining and moaning every time he eats because it stings the sore.  I say suck it up kid!  You want to play ice hockey?  You gotta learn to suck it up!  Are you  bleeding? No.  Anything broken? No. Then suck it up!

I’m mean, I know but hell! I used to play volleyball with dislocated fingers and busted knees!  My coach would say “wrap that up and let’s go!  You’re our best setter!”

The Boy needs to suck it up….

On top of that, I had another riling verbal go at it with my mother and sister after church on Sunday.

My sister…I laugh at her sometimes.  Not because I’m making fun of her but because she is trying to hold onto the last dying hope that our mother will actually stop trying to control our lives and not have “selective amnesia” when it comes to things we say.  I’ve told my mother I do NOT like when The Boy interrupts our adult conversations just so he can get a game on her iPad or to get her to turn her mobile WiFi on.  He knows to NEVER do that with me nor when my sister and I our talking.  Yet, when my mother is there…he turns into a disrespectful little bugger.  It’s because she allows it.

So, apparently, my mother doesn’t remember the 50 times I’ve told her that I will not allow disrespectful interrupting from The Boy, even though my sister backed up pretty much each time I’ve told her, as she has heard me say it to our mother, multiple times.  Nope, I get a “You have NEVER told me that” from my mother.

It’s unbelievable…

Our mother is also pissed we aren’t going to a baby shower of a cousin we never see nor hardly even know.  The only reason this cousin haphazardly invited us, through our mother, is so she can get more gifts.  It’s so blatantly obvious.  Our mother wants us to go and why does she? Well, I would assume it would be to “show us off” per say.  Especially me, who has lost all kinds of weight.  Now, apparently, I look good enough for her to brag about it.  With my mother, it’s all about how we look to others.  So sad really.

So, my sister calls me yesterday evening, after that harrowing conversation we all had saying “why do I need to go somewhere because SHE wants me to”? I simply tell her “Uh…sweetie…you don’t.  You are 30 years old.  You can do whatever the hell you want.  I’ve been telling you this for years now”.  She knows that she needs to let go of trying to please our mother, as I have done many years ago.  She also needs to come to terms that our mother will always hand out the guilt trips when she doesn’t get her way and my sister needs to learn to just push away.  Being close to our mother is something my sister has always reveled in, compared to me, who has always tried to steer clear from getting to attached to her.  But I’ve told her, there is a REASON I keep my distance.  She may just have to learn the hard way.

She’ll soon see the whole picture for what it really is and understand why I deal with our mother as little as possible.

And with all this stress, I didn’t realize that I was ripping my fingers to absolute shreds.  My cuticles, every single one of them, are not now doused in antibiotic ointment and have a bandaid wrapped around them.  It got so bad that I couldn’t feel the tips of my fingers anymore.  I really need to get a hold of this disease.

For the first time in almost 4 years, I’m worried about my furbaby

There is something wrong with him.  It’s been a gradual “something” over the past few months.

First, he was super finicky about his foods and I was bouncing back and forth trying to find what he liked.

Then, he straight out refused dry food of any kind, so I stuck to only wet food.

Then, he began losing weight, or so it seemed, I wasn’t sure.  His back end is super thin around his tailbone and hind legs and his stomach sinks in when he walks (it’s hard to describe).  He still eats but not a whole lot and he eats in sessions, meaning he eats small amounts over time.  That is hard for me because I’m at work during the day so I can’t keep refilling his food on an hourly basis and if the food stays on his plate to long, he refuses it.  This is a new problem.

I’ve also noticed, as of late, when he eats, he has a gag type reflex.  He’ll eat, then kind of open his mouth and heave like something is stuck somewhere and he’s trying to get it out.  Usually, he’s fine after a few seconds.

He also drools, a lot.  I thought that was normal but I was told by my cousins’ husband, who owns three Vet clinics in Orange County, that drooling is not normal and it could mean he’s nauseated.

Then, this morning, he threw up for the first time, ever.  I know he did hack a hairball about a year ago but that was all he’s ever done in the 3/12 years I’ve had him.  I fed him when I got up, like I normally do and he ate.  Then about 3 minutes later, he threw everything he had just ate back up.  I was just about to leave for work when he did this so I left a bit more on his plate just in case he wanted to eat more.

Now, I’m sitting here at work, just sickened with worry and wondering what I need to do.  I have a vet appointment for him on Saturday but now, I’m debating whether I should call the vet and ask if they can see him tonight.

Worse than this, I feel like I did something wrong.  I was bending over backwards to get him food he would eat and now I feel dumb thinking I read somewhere that drooling in cats is normal.  Maybe I read that about dogs?  But I feel riddled with guilt that I didn’t take care of him properly.  Or that I didn’t take him to the vet sooner.

I’m going to make some phone calls in a bit here, I might have to get my parents to take The Boy to hockey practice tonight.

“Man, she got SKINNY!”

It’s been a long time but here is yet another Tarantino’d posts……..

“Man, she got skinny!!!”

Why did The Boy tell me the above….

Let’s go back…..Let’s go back….

I had completely forgotten to blog this experience.  It was one of the highlights of my weight loss journey and it comes from a small child.  The children are so innocent….yet VERY honest and that is what makes them brilliant!

A few Friday’s ago, I had picked up The Boy early from after school care.  I pulled into the parking lot and being that it was early, no cars were there.  They were on the field and he saw me pull up.  I got out, waved at him and got right back in the car to await his arrival.

Upon entering the car he told me his classmate asked him if that was his mother, waving at him from the parking lot.  He said yes and then his classmate said to him “Man, she got SKINNY!”

Kids are truly straight forward, blunt and honest humans.


It rarely happens, but I lost it….

Yup, I did.  Sometimes, I just want to rip my hair out when The Boy moans and groans and whines when I ask him to do something, especially something that doesn’t include staring at his phone or computer game.  Sometimes, he just ignores me completely and that will send me over the edge and madder than a March Hare.

Yesterday afternoon, I had enough.  He wanted to go swimming and of course, got his trunks on all on his own because when he WANTS to do something, he doesn’t need to be asked 100 times.  However, I had asked him for the 100th time to get off the stupid cell phone game and after I got ignored…I blew up.

I have a calender set up on the Fridge.  This calendar marks the day I will get him his Bearded Dragon.  On this calendar is a magnet which is on that day.  That magnet has been moved farther and farther away for almost the past month. Why? Well, that would be because one to many times, that kid acts like a little crap.

So, after I had to get loud about telling him to get off his game for the 100th time, he begins to talk back to me.

I calmly gave him a warning, no! I gave him several:

Frustrated Mother:  Boy, I highly suggest you shut your mouth now or you will regret the consequences.” (and yes, he knows what consequences means)

The Boy: “But I’m not doing anything!”

Frustrated Mother:  “Your mouth is open and words are coming out of it….close your mouth”

The Boy: “But I didn’t say anythi…”

Frustrated Mother: “Again, Boy, your mouth is moving and words are coming out.  Shut it”

The Boy: “But I’m not say…..”

I wonder where he gets his argumentive, persistent nature from?  Maybe he’ll be a lawyer?

Regardless, I was done.

I got up, walked right to that Bearded Dragon calendar, and ripped it to shreds.

I did not move the magnet even further.

I did not pass GO

I did not collect $200.

I ripped that fucker to shreds.

The Boy went ape shit.

I sent him to his room, slammed his door and said I didn’t want to see him right now.

10 minutes later, he’s knocking on his door, which means he wants to talk (not argue) and I told him he could come out.

Hugs and apologies were exchanged.  Me, for losing my cool and going on a ripping rampage and him for popping off his mouth.

I swear, that boy gets off lucky, though.  If I popped off my mouth when I was younger, I would see the back of my mother’s hand, then I would see stars for days.  Jeez….

I told him he cannot speak to me in that manner and said he still had to suffer consequences.  I gave him a choice.  He could either give up his afternoon of swimming for that day or he could say good bye to the Bearded Dragon calendar forever (and the Bearded Dragon).

I knew which he would pick.

A new Bearded Dragon calendar has been printed up and will be put back onto the Fridge tonight.


Motivation….because only the prospects of owning a lizard can make a boy not act like a little shit

However, that magnet, which started at August 24, is now getting moved to September 28th.

I do wonder how long we will play the “Magnet Moving” game though?

I guess I work hard….so you don’t have to!

There is yet another pheonomenon that I find interesting.  It is that of my mother in regards to my weight loss.  Honestly, sometimes, her ways of thinking and her priority system really does amuse me to the extent that I giggle.

At this family lunch that I mentioned in my last “Weigh In” post, I was probably the only one not over eating and obese (aside from my father who is losing weight due to health).  I would say my cousin’s daughter who is 19 was the only one dressed cute in a sun dress and looking like she weighed about 100 (she’s super cute).

However, no one noticed my weight loss enough to mention it and I would think 43 lbs is enough for someone to notice!  Or if they did notice, they didn’t mention it.  I wasn’t about to announce it because I did not want to make my over weight, over eating family feel bad.

I didn’t have to because it was my mother who suddenly felt the urge to mention “oh by the way, she’s lost weight…hey tell them how much.”

*sigh* This was not pride that prompted her to mention it…it was boasting.  Never before had I ever enjoyed the pride of being given a “hey look at MY daughter” announcement by her at a family function ever.  Usually it’s “just stay in the corner and pretend you don’t belong to me” kind of vibe I get from her.  Then again, I could be being dramatic in thinking this but it is what I feel.  I can’t deny that.

Suddenly, I work DAMN hard to lose weight and it’s her win?!  It’s her win because NOW she gets to show me off.  Oh sure, she may claimed that before when she was telling me how fat I was that she was saying it only because she doesn’t want me to have diabetes.  But now that the weight loss is happening, I didn’t hear “hey everyone, my daughter has lost 43 lbs and now she won’t have diabetes!“.  Nope, it was more like “hey everyone look at MY daughter.  Now she looks decent enough for me to announce that she is MY daughter“.

Again, I may be reading into it and being dramatic but I can’t help but come up with this conclusion.  Really…I laugh at this scenario yet, I feel sad for her because I feel like sometimes, she’s living her life through her daughters because she feels her life is over.  Honestly, I just don’t know WHAT to make of her sometimes.  She is so bi-polar I have to prepare myself when I know I MUST see her to be ready for whatever end of the spectrum her mood will be in.  It is truly exhausting.

So, even though she will still always say I’M her “difficult daughter“….no one can tell her I’m the one eating 7+ pieces of pizza in one sitting…that is for dang sure!

“At least I do feel 24 hours clean…”

It’s been a long time but here is yet another Tarantino’d posts……..

“At least I do feel 24 hours clean…”

Why did The Boy say the above….

Let’s go back…..Let’s go back….

My kid….he MUST only use Irish Spring Body Wash.  He calls it his “Man Soap”.  At Target the other day, I told him to go see which kind he wanted since there are apparently many different kinds of Irish Spring Body Wash.

He chose the 24 hour Deep Action Scrub.


His first use of it was last night.  This was his announcement upon exiting the bathroom.

“At least I do feel 24 hours clean…”

Oh I could only wish…..


I’m still laughing a bit.

Letter to God


Dear God,

I will start out my letter to You with a question.

Why do You feel I don’t deserve love?

I believe, in my heart, that You exist.  That will never change.  Therefore, I come to You for the answer to this question.  I know that no other human on this planet can answer this, except maybe myself, which may be the answer in and of itself.  However, you know me better than I know myself.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart”- Jeremiah 1:5

I refuse to believe that You are ignorant to the amount of pain this loneliness brings.

I know that I have trouble getting along with the mother You gave me.  You must see how I try very hard to understand her but I am human (as you have made me) and I do have a tolerance level.  I have accepted that You gave me this type of mother for a reason.  I see that reason as being to shape my own type of mothering.  So, in the bigger picture, it was a learning process.  I’ve learned now, can I just get a break from her pain now?

I understand that I have made many MANY mistakes and I have been the “Prodigal Son” many times over.  I stray only to come back to You admitting I am weak.  I am weak emotionally.  I am weak physically.  However, since You knew me before I was in the womb, You knew I would be an emotional and emotionally needy person who craved love.  You knew I would crave affection and touch.  You knew I would crave plain old love.  Yet, You have denied it from my life.

For a man named Job, in the Bible, You allow Satan to destroy him, a man who was just about the most faithful man to God that there was.  Satan was a kid in a candy store, being allowed to test one of God’s most faithful servants.Job-Bible-Story_6

All the tests caused Job to lose everything, his family, his riches, and even his health.  Why must everything be a test?  The story of Job is supposed ot teach us that just because one suffers, inside, with loneliness and an empty heart, does not mean one is  being punished for some sin.  That makes sense because I wonder, all the time, what truly horrible transgressions I’m committing other than just being a human full of flaws and having so much need for affection that the void of just that, makes me want to scream.  I constantly feel like I’m looking over my shoulder, so to speak, thinking “what have I done now to deserve this”.  It is feeding my guilty conscience with a vengeance.

I do not write this to You to whine or sound ungrateful, even though that is how it seems.  Upon reflecting on this topic and as I look around the populace, I notice that there are so many lonely humans out there.  Some have given up because they have had one to many interactions with those who do not care for love, only for personal satisfaction.  However, some are truly and honestly, just wanting to find love.  In this aspect, misery does not love company.  I do not feel solice seeing the lonely people all over the globe.  I feel even more sadness because this kind of emptiness is not an easy thing to bare.

I know that You see how lonely myself and so many others are.  I know that sometimes, you just have to turn Your face from it because it is mostly caused by choices we make.  I reach out as a last resort because I know that the choices I made in my past, brought me here.  However, the choices I’m making now, should not keep me down this path.  I always thought I was well deserved of the right path.alice-in-wonderland-mv03

I will not throw back in Your face the wonderful blessing that is my boy, my job, my health, even my cat!  I would never be so arrogant.  I just wonder, is that all that is left?  If so, when will I be able to smile again, to laugh again.  I miss laughing.  What am I missing because I know it is something I, alone, am missing or failing to comprehend.  Or maybe there is just something that You aren’t allowing me to see?

I still believe that you do give us what we can handle, and never more.  That is apparent in the fact that you allowed me to become a mother (something I can handle and outright needed to be) but not to become the mother of a female (something I don’t think I could handle).

Why would you think I couldn’t handle love?  Why do I feel you allow it for others but not myself?  What do I need to change? What am I supposed to learn in the void of loneliness?

I do not question your reasoning.  I just try to understand it.

Your ever faithful yet sometimes flawed servant

P.S.  Don’t worry, even though I don’t go to a church, I still feel strongly in following You.  I’m just sorry that all the churches are run by more flawed humans.  If You find one run by Jesus Himself, I’ll be first in line to join!  And I will continue to treat myself with kindness and be good to my body.

Bearded Dragon = Yes

As another incentive for The Boy to let me shop, I promised him that we would stop by the local reptile store to look at Geckos.  He has it in his brain now that since he’s lost two hamsters to death, that a Gecko is the way to go.  I humored him, but I draw the line at spiders and snakes.  Geckos and lizards of that type I can tolerate because we had some when I was younger.

We get into the store and are immediately met by a nice young man and I tell him we want to see the Geckos.  He points them out to us and asks if we would be holding it and petting it.  The Boy says yes (of course he wants to have a lizard in his hands as often as he can) and then the young man points us toward the bearded dragons.

I heard “dragon” and thought of a Komodo Dragon and my heart stopped.  Then my mind told me that Komodo Dragons aren’t really domestic type lizards (I hope?) and the next thing I thought of was an Iguana.  I was becoming more nervous as we walked over to the Bearded Dragons and all my assumptions were very wrong.

See the difference:


Komodo Dragon




Bearded Dragon

Apparently, Bearded Dragons look like the photo above and will calmly and happily stay on one’s shoulder.  As babies, they are really small and not jittering and they don’t try to run away.  The Boy even got to hold one.


The young man informed me that they grow to be about 2 feet at most.  He also said that they adapt to whatever personality their owner has.  He must have seen my “what bullshit” look because he proceeded to explain that if you get one as a baby and interact with it often, it will be like you.  If you are calm, it remains calm.  If you walk it around it will adapt to being on your shoulder.  I think I was still giving him the WTF look but it was more because I still couldn’t believe I was considering this creature to reside in my house, but I tried to smile and nod.

He also showed us the aquariums they sell that come with the heating lamps and accessories.  On the surface, this looks very interesting.  However, I have this sinking gut feeling that I will be the one taking care of this lizard.  However, he did say that they require very little upkeep.  Then, of course, they shed eventually a few times I think.  And there is also that whole feeding it live crickets routine.  Blegh.

So I’m still on the fence because aside from the fact that these things are the ugliest lizards I’ve ever seen, it is STILL a lizard.  What I left for The Boy to understand was that he has to be good, keep his room clean and the area this lizard would be in clean, and no bad reports from school.

Final thought:  I have a feeling I’m going to have a Bearded Dragon living in my house within the next few weeks.

Big pants = No

I realized, upon looking into my closet, that I was down to one pair of work dress pants and one pair of jeans that actually fit me.  Anything else that was in my closet, in the category of pants, no longer stayed on me, even when buttoned.  However, it was after my pants literally FELL off at work (luckily this was in my office and no one saw), I realized, it was a necessity to get more.

So, off to Kohl’s I went because I had some Kohl’s cash to spend. kohlscash

I bribed The Boy that if he let me look for and try on clothes, I would buy him something.  I was still rushed by his moaning and groaning but he got a nice looking watch out of the trip.


Anyway, I was still unsure as to which size I truly am.  So, I grabbed the size 14 dress pants (Apt 9 brand).  After trying them on, I realize, yes, they are loose but aren’t falling off.  Yet, I’ll be spending more money on more pants because these fit me just right now, but will be falling off in a month.  I decided on getting the 12’s.  They fit, a little snug, but they fit.

I haven’t been a size 12 since BEFORE I was pregnant and that was 10 years ago!  What shocks me is that the numbers on the scale still haven’t dropped into the 100’s.  That just means inches are being lost more than pounds but I couldn’t care less about it.  It’s nice to be in a size 12 again.

Lastly, do I get to share this accomplishment with anyone outside of this blog?  Well no, because my mother puts down the fact I’m losing weight and says I’m lazy because I’ve used the appetite suppresants and is now, actively, pressuring my younger sister (her favorite and “easy” daughter) to lose weight as she tells her, and I quote, that I “can’t look better” than her.

Isn’t that just lovely?  *sigh*  And out of respect, I don’t tell my sister about the actual pounds lost (unless she asks) because I don’t want to make her feel bad, especially if our mother pressures her to look better than me, like we are rival competitive enemies.  The woman just wants to see me fail at everything.  It’s actually quite disgusting.

This is how my mother apologizes


What you see there is $20 and a Trader Joe’s gift card for $75 that I found under my door mat.  Just after finding this, was a text “keep the lines of communication open, ok?”

That is how my mother apologizes for coming into my home and disrespecting me but only after I stopped answering her texts and phone calls.  She only does it because she thinks I’m going to not allow her and my father to see The Boy.  In all honesty, that offends me because I would never deny her or my father from seeing their grandson and she knows that.  That would just be mean as they aren’t disrespectful to him.  It is just me.  Our personalities clash way to much.  And The Boy is really starting to see through all the smoke and mirrors and react to it.  And if I know his personality as he grows, he ain’t gonna put up with no B.S.  And I back him up 100%.

Also, not that I’m ungrateful for free groceries and gas money but never would she ever actually SAY “I’m sorry” because deep down, she’s doesn’t feel like she does or says anything wrong.  Even I would not claim I do nothing wrong.

So, “lines of communication” will still be on the “treading lightly” setting, for the time being.  At least for me.  And I’m actually pretty busy.  It still blows my mind that if I don’t answer her texts all the time, every time, she makes it all about herself.  I’m trying to raise a child here.  The world doesn’t revolve around her dramatics.

*sigh* This rollercoaster of drama is really making me want to vomit.  I want off now.

Regardless, this is the most of an apology I’ve ever gotten. So, it warmed my heart a bit. I still love her so much.

Emotional rollercoaster….

Christmas Trip to Montana, in the planning stage!


I’m SO excited! Not only for a road trip because I LOVE road trips and driving and stopping at random places to eat food that I never see where I live or take a picture of the World’s Largest Watermelon  (yes we are going to stop there) or the 100+ year old Fruitcake and 66 year old slab of bacon  (that one is on the itinerary to!) or the first KFC franchise location  (a *maybe* on the itinerary, I don’t support fast food but this is kinda interesting), but I’m going to see my Sister and niece and nephew!

I am super anal when it comes to preparing and researching for adventures like this.  I create an itinerary, research places to stop, possible weather and car rentals.  Right now I am in the researching places to stop stage and I’m in Utah right now, going through THIS list.  Being that the I-15 is the only Interstate we will be taking from California through Las Vegas, NV, a corner of Arizona (Mesquite), Utah (through Salt Lake City), Idaho (through Idaho Falls) then lastly to Helena, Montana, that makes it easy to search for only tourist attractions that are not to far from the I-15.

My sister and I and The Boy will be doing this trip.  We have and will continue to invite our mother and father as my older Sister is my father’s daughter to, but my younger sister and I have a pretty good feeling that our mother will agree up until the last minute then back out.

But ask me if I care if she does that other than our poor father, yet again, will be kept from seeing his oldest daughter and two other grand kids.  I have a plan in the making and will be following it and seeing as much of the trip as we can and taking photos.  That woman can’t stop us.

I tried….I really did.

I want to have a decent relationship with my sister.  I try to spend time with her and share moments.

This post isn’t about how my sister ruined my last attempt, but, once again, how our mother ruins everything.

I’m at the end of my rope now.

camel2 I have always wanted to keep a relationship going with my mother.  After all, she is my mother and birthed me and if anything keep a relationship going for my kid’s sake because she is still decent with him and he hasn’t seen how she can really be yet.  However,  the last straw has been dropped on the camel and the camel’s back, is broken.

Since, writing the above, not only was the final straw dropped on the camel, but while the camel was down, another was pummelled at him.

First, I tried to make it a day with my sister and I at Disney (California Adventure) this past Friday.  I paid for her $92 ticket to just get into DCA and I wanted her to see the Mad T Party band and take a picture with the White Rabbit DJ as the White Rabbit is her favorite character.

Proof that at least we had a decent few drama free hours:


Photo is small and grainy because I got it from the Disneyphotopass.com site. They are always super small.

The mistake I made was giving The Boy to my parents for the day.  I only did it because I really didn’t want to hear his whining on how we weren’t doing things he wanted to happen, but now that I think back, he really isn’t that way.

I should have just brought him with us.

Around 5pm (we had arrived at 12:30 and I paid a full day $92 ticket for my sister to get in), I get a text from our mother saying my father is in the ER with possible Kidney pains.  My phone gets no signal in ride lines which tend to go into buildings and under ground. But basically, she was wanting us to cut it short and leave.

Uh..I paid 92 fucking dollars to get my sister into the park, only to stay there for about 4 hours and not even see the show she wanted to?  But beyond that…our mother can’t even allow us to have one afternoon together, as sisters.  Believe me, she could have handled our father on her own.  What she didn’t want was my kid.

I ignored my mother’s text, as did my sister.  Cruel? Maybe but we both knew, without speaking a word to each other, this was our mother’s drama at it’s best.

An hour passes, I get a text that she called her sister to pick up The Boy and my aunt was more than happy to do it.  Well look at that, she actually figured it out.  The Boy and my aunt were fine with this situation and my mother was just being a drama queen yet again.

We leave around 9:30 to go pick up The Boy from my Aunt’s house, I’m driving and this is when I get bamboozled.

I believe it happened like this,  in bullet points because I really don’t know how it happened.

  • I’m driving, my sister calls our mother to inform her we are on our way to pick up The Boy and she keeps asking my sister where we are, what exit on the freeway and when we left.  What’s it to her! She needs to take care of our father and stop controlling everything.
  • Our mother insists that they are done (BTW, my father did end up with a Kidney stone and all my mother could care about was pestering us for the next 3 hours)
  • My sister, in her oh so “I don’t put up with this shit” way, tells our mother that she needs to slow her damn roll, get OUR FATHER his medications and get him home because he needed rest. (selfish much dear mother?)
  • Our mother then starts talking to me, I’m driving and on speaker phone. She asks what I’m doing tomorrow and I try to vaguely say I’m going clothes shopping for The Boy the next day.  Before I knew it, she invited herself and then that was that.
  • I was livid because I paid for this day with my sister, I had it cut short and interrupted and couldn’t enjoy the last few hours and now this woman is INVITING herself clothes shopping and I know why…because she wants to control what clothes I buy for the Boy. Oh yes she does.
  • Boy gets picked and once again, we are asked why we didn’t call her to tell her we had picked him up.  Because the last time I checked my sister and I WEREN’T FUCKING 15 YEARS OLD!

(it kinda makes me laugh but the day before, my sister and I took The Boy to Universal Studios. When my mother found out, first thing she said was “why didn’t you let us know and why did you bring your father and I”?

WTF?!  First, I’m 36 and don’t need mommy and daddy’s permission to go to an amusement park and 2nd, you guys are not necessarily people I want at someplace like Universal Studios.  My dad tends to get lost and forget where he’s at and my mother just sulks and complains about her knee.  Wet blankets….

But apparently, I’m supposed to let her know when I go anywhere.  Bull.shit)

It must always be about her and how she can control everyone


Jesus H. Christ……..give me strength….

More bullet points for the next day and the results of me not standing up to that woman:

The next day I prepare myself mentally but I still don’t know how I allowed this to happen. I have a guess though

  • We both go to Kohl’s ready to get a few new things for The Boy.  I have budgeted only maybe 2 new shirts and a pair of shorts. In all honesty, his current clothes are fine, I just wanted to get him something new to wear to school for the first few days.
  • Somewhere between me going to the clearance rack for shirts and the cash register, my mother shows my kid the way to expensive Tony Hawk stuff that I did not budget (about $22 a shirt) and the Vans shorts sections (about $30 a pair).
  • At the end of it all, because she did that and made me look like the meanie mom in public and in front of The Boy when I said I didn’t budget for this many $22 shirts, I was out way over $100.

Fast forward to yesterday…..rent is due…and guess what? I don’t have it.  I call the rental company (actual the company that I work for) and am told that, per their policy, if I don’t have the rent by the 8th, I get a lawyer and sheriff’s knocking on my door and I get evicted.

That was when I had the epiphany.


This is what my mother WANTS!  As I think about it, this theory is manipulation at it’s very best.  She WANTS me to be so broke that I can’t pay my rent and have to be between homelessness and begging her for money or to come back and live with her.  She gets this from her sister, the one up in Washington, who can’t get her act together long enough to not be asking my mother for money all the damned time.

I will not go down this easily.  I’ve fought TO hard and TO long to have to give her ANY satisfaction of a win.

What did I do?  I sat my kid down and explained that his grandmother had NO right to go over my head with the shopping.  I explain that some of his shirts have to be taken back so I can get the money back into my account to pay rent.  He was good with that.  Believe me, even The Boy understands how manipulative his grandmother is.

I know what she was trying to do with the shopping thing.  I’m more mad at myself for allowing myself to be manipulated, once again.  She was just trying to out play me and, because I know her, she was trying to get me into the situation that I was currently in so that she could control me better, especially if I needed money.

That woman’s ultimate goal is to get my sister and I practically homeless so that we come crawling back to her needing a place to stay.

I would slit my wrists before I ever give her that satisfaction.

After I relaxed a bit yesterday, when my apartment was dark and quiet, I thought about what I need to do about this.

I know I’ve said it before but now I’m going to say it again.  To prevent the above from happening, I just can NOT have a relationship with her.  I.just.can’t.  And by I can’t I simply mean “I WON’T!”  I really just don’t have the energy and the patience to constantly be on guard around her because she uses mind tricks like a Jedi to manipulate situations.  This last time, she used my son by making sure she dangled the more expensive items in front of him, knowing that would make it harder for me to deal with and knowing that I was on a budget.

The woman takes on the burden of so many of her ungrateful family, her sisters, her cousins, even her dead (and the most horrible man who ever walked the planet) father still makes an appearance.  Not in the ghost sense but in the now she has to take into her home her elderly step mother as well as take care of her memory loss husband.

The small part of me that still feels sympathy for her is disappearing fast.  She takes all this on because she is controlling like that.  But then she complains that she has “so much to deal with”.  When those words are uttered…that is when my sympathy goes out the door.  She can say no to any of these family members or situations, but she doesn’t.

Oh but she will be EXTRA sure to treat myself and my sister like crap with put down after put down and insult after insult.  We are the only TWO people who have backed her up, helped her out and put up with her shit.

I have let her go forever

I do not like being manipulated and I’m FINALLY glad my sister FINALLY sees, after 30 years of knowing her, how our mother manipulates us.  I’ve been saying it for a while and it is the basis of why I really just want that woman to exit my life.

My sister tends to tell her like it is and if she doesn’t like it, my sister really couldn’t care less.  That is good, when dealing with my mother but my sister tends to be that way with me to so I never go to her for emotional support, ever.  She would tell me to grow a pair and quit whining.  However, she deals with our mother better than I.

Now that school has started, there is no reason for me to ever step foot in my mother’s house.  She does not watch The Boy while I work.  And I am making arrangements to never have to go down that road.  For the most part, the only reason I even see my parents, was because I had to drop off and pick up The Boy.

And now, she is taking in her step mother and father’s widow.  For the most part, I like this old woman.  She makes great cuban dishes and I have nothing against her.  However, she is part of a branch of the cult that we came out of and still practices a lot of it’s old ways.  Hence, no Christmas.  Christmas was something we did at my parents house with the tree and gifts and Glory to God songs playing in the backround while we baked Christmas cookies.  I can pretty much garantee that if my step-grandmother lives there, my mother will not be doing any of these things, once again, choosing others over her daughters and our family traditions. Mark my words, Christmas is no longer in that house.

Fine…my sister and I are making plans to head out to Montana to spend Christmas with our older sister.

Do these plans piss off my mother?  Oh you better believe they do and mostly because, our older sister is not her daughter but our father’s.  Yet, because my mother is the controlling factor between my parents and she knows that she controls my ailing father, my father is not going to be allowed to go with us to visit his own daughter (my older sister) and two other grandkids.

You see where the manipulation starts to turn ugly?

So now, my interaction with that woman will be reduced to the occasional text of “yes we are still alive now leave me alone” and whenever she goes to The Boy’s hockey lesson.  And that is all.


The account….is closed.

I have a little exercise I would like each and every one of you to do, just for me.

I want you to think about someone you love.  Maybe your husband, maybe your parents or your kids.

Now, think about if they died.  Humor me, and do it…

What do you feel?? You feel sadness, hurt, you maybe want to cry?

I feel nothing when I think of my mother no longer on this earth….just nothing.  When God finally decides to take her away from us, I will feel nothing.  I believe, if I were to feel anything it will be a sense of truly and finally being…..free.

Until then, she is now someone who I will go out of my way to avoid at any costs from here until God takes one of us.  She only has herself to blame.

“They are all leaving the Comic Con”

Bringing to you yet another Tarantino’d posts……..

“They are all leaving the Comic Con”

Why did The Boy say the above….

Let’s go back…..Let’s go back….

I would actually like to more properly name this post “The Snails on Parade”

For the past month, upon leaving my apartment in the mornings, The Boy and I notice a lot, and I do mean A LOT, of snails moving around on the grassy areas in front and on the side of my unit.


Every little “white” speckle, is a snail

The Boy got a kick out of how many there were and how slow they were moving. 

The next thing he says is :  “Look, they are all leaving the Comic Con!

At first I was like, “Huh? What is this kid talking about!”, but then it hit me.

I did take him to the San Diego Comic Con many years ago, when he was around 6.  And yes, we stood in a LOOOONGGG line like what is pictured to the right.  This line went around the bay and in between buildings, just to get inside.  He somehow thought that this array of snails slinking across the grass and slowly getting over to the side walk, then walking behind each other, almost in a row, reminded him of our hours standing in that line, waiting to get into the Comic Con! 

I was entertained beyond belief!


Mama and Baby Snail

This morning, I was able to get this photo of what appears to be a Mama and Baby Snail.  The little one would not leave this big one’s side and the big one stopped when the little one did and never left his side.  I can only assume they were related.


My cat’s 4th of July included Fancy Feast

This morning, I realized I was down to the last can of cat food.  My cat REFUSES to eat dry food.  He also shows his disapproval with anger if any type of fish cat food (i.e salmon, tuna, trout, shrimp) is placed before him.  So, when he runs out of canned food and I try to give him dry, he protests by starving himself.

Cat food Shopping

So, my 4th of July morning included a trip to Ralph’s, with my paper coupons and eCoupons in hand, to buy him the cat food he will eat.  Yes, that is 30 cans of Fancy Feast and 10 cans of Sheba you see in that cart.

Snickers Enjoys

Then, he just scarfed it up, without even so much as a thank you or looking up to pose.

Then, he just walked around, licking his paws and I begged him for one photo of him and his full tummy.


“*sigh* Fine. I guess because you finally fed me what I wanted, I will hold this horrible make-shift American Flag you made.  Did I mention it’s an terrible replica? You crazy human…”

“Yes, but it’s 4th of July….just stop complaining!”

“Hmmpff…I could always suffocate you with my body in your sleep you know….”

He’s just jealous because he won’t be seeing fireworks later tonight.

I don’t know…I think another episode of Cat Shaming might be in order.

That darn cat….I love him!

Aging Parents, graying hair and….London??

I was told some very profound information Sunday evening by my mother than makes me sad, angry and apprehensive all at once.  And once again, in her usual way, she kept it to herself only to pop it on my sister and I suddenly.

I have very little interaction on a regular basis with my parents as of lately.  Mostly because I’m so busy but mostly because I just try to stay away.


My father is no where near as old as this man. My father is only 62. My boss is older than him as have been many bosses before.

Apparently, for a long time now, she has known that my father was officially diagnosed by his doctor to have pre-Dementia.

Here is why this was VERY disconcerting for me.

I drop The Boy off at their house, during the summer, on Monday’s and Friday’s.  I did know that he and my dad go on bike rides together, without my mother supervising.  I know that they play outside a lot but the bike rides concern me.  I may have to make changes on where I take The Boy on Monday’s and Friday’s.  But it is only for the next few weeks.

Within the past year or two my father had not one, not two, but THREE, albeit minor, fender benders while driving WITH The Boy with them in the car.  This happens because he tends to zone out and forget he’s driving!  Or he’ll back into something that he forgot he saw there and claim he never saw it.

I don’t even know why I let it get to three.  I’m dumb, but I finally I told my mother that he was no longer allowed to drive with The Boy in the car with them.  Hell, if she didn’t mind risking her life because my father kept zoning out while driving and would swerve and drive irradicaly that was her choice.  Mine was to keep The Boy safe.

After a HUGE fight from my father (who was already showing fast signs of forgetting and terrible speech composition), I basically said, “This is what I say, I am The Boy’s mother and as that I don’t CARE that I’m still YOUR daughter, you do what I ask or you don’t get to see your Grandson.”  Maybe not in so many words but they got the point.

My mother now drives when The Boy is with them.

But that was a while ago.  Fast forward to today, I now have other concerns regarding his driving abilities.  My sister and I firmly believe that now, he should not be allowed to drive at all. Period.  For the most part, my mother does drive everywhere, however, with her recent knee surgery she can’t drive as much.  My sister and I have told her that his driving should start to be pulled away from him.

For instance, last week, on Monday, he had a doctor appointment in a city 20 miles away and three different freeways away.  My mother couldn’t drive him and my son was there with them that day.  She let him drive on his own.  She was stressed and worried the whole time.  Thank God, he did return but when she asked him about his appointment, or what the doctor said, he remembered nothing.  She then asked him how the drive was….and his answer?

crickets_chirpingThe man didn’t remember any part of it.  OR he was just being stubborn and didn’t want to answer.  Either way, WTF!  If he really didn’t remember driving at all and was “zoned” out the whole drive, which is what he does when driving, God is the one who drove for him!  I told my mother than if she isn’t up to driving him to call either my sister or I.

And yes, I get very upset at BOTH of them for their lack of foresight and seeing that a scenario like the above could have ended VERY badly.  Worse case, he crashes, kills not only himself but many others, the family of the others decide to come after US and sue us for everything because, we, as the family, KNEW (at least my mother did) he was diagnosed with Dementia and still allowed him to drive because she was to fucking PROUD to call me or my sister for help!  My mother would lose their big 5 bedroom house, my father’s Pension and retirement; even my sister and I could be affected.

Of course that is worse case scenario and I may be over dramatizing it a bit but, that is how I think sometimes.  Let’s just prevent a worse case ANYTHING from the start.

And now, she is slowly recovering from her knee surgery and trying to be mobile again.  She is not 100% and cannot be as alert as she used to be.

When she told me that yes, his doctor has already diagnosed him with pre-dementia, I got a bit angry because I believed that my sister and I had EVERY right to know this.  More myself than anyone because I leave The Boy in their care.

I am not surprised in this least by this news though.  Lately, my father has taken to just sitting on the couch and staring at a wall like he’s trying to remember what he was doing.  He will start projects in the house that he never finishes or even remembers starting.  For instance, he will start re-wiring a tv unit, then leave all the wires and tools about, walk away, and never return because he has forgotten he was in the middle of the project.

The speech has become so much more worse as time as gone on.  He no longer can put two words together.  I want you to say right now “Go Fish”…did you say it?  How hard was that to say?  He can’t put two words as small as that together.  He stumbles and mumbles and stutters words that don’t even sound like what he is trying to say.

What’s worse, he is VERY angry about it all.  God save us if any of us mention that they don’t understand him or ask him why he’s staring at a wall or even if he needs help with anything.  I know my interactions with him are null and void and down to pretty much a “hi” and a “bye”.  Mostly because, I just don’t want to get him frustrated or mad that he can’t communicate but more because it just hurts to see him struggle with the words, even the small ones.

His anger is mostly towards my mother and I’ve never seen it sent towards myself or The Boy (and believe me I ask him).  When he gets angry he will take to just walking out of the house, no matter what the hour is.

Just recently, he got angry because my mother told him in a “I told you so” kind of way that he shouldn’t have wired the tv cable a certain way.  He left the room, and my mother assumed he was getting a tool or something.  After waiting 30 minutes, she begins to worry because he seemed like he was just going down to get tools.  She goes downstairs to find him sitting on the couch, staring at a wall.  She asks what he’s doing, he says “You think I’m stupid”.  blue-door-feet-598005-o-646x363She may have said something else, I don’t know because she is the one telling me this story and he gets mad and walks out of the house, at 1p.m in 105 degree weather wearing long black jeans and a long sleeved black t-shirt (he never wears shorts or anything not black or long sleeved no matter what the weather).  It’s 105 degrees outside.  She said he was gone for hours but finally returned.

This happens a lot and can be in the middle of the night or whenever.  One thing that worries me about this is a) he could forget suddenly where he is if he’s just wandering around the streets or even worse b) a police officer can see him, question him (which would make him flustered and make the slurring speech worse), realize that he’s slurring and mumbling his speech and think he’s either drunk or on something and arrest him and that would get him angry and he would make it worse.  Again, I’m throwing out the worse case scenario but there it is!

I know she is losing her patience to.  She can be cruel sometimes and just eggs him on even if that is a part of her personality.  I’m not surprised at all because she is in a “whoa is me” attitude because she wanted to travel in her golden years and sit by her swimming pool with all her many many grand kids as they play in the water and back yard and all kinds of people come to visit.

She can’t travel as it would throw my father off balance as he doesn’t adapt to new places well.

She has no pool.

She has only 1 grandkid who she barely sees.  And no one visits her.

I know that she is jealous of my sister and I and the freedom we can have.  My sister will be visiting our other sister (from my father’s first marriage) in Montana and the guilt trip she gave my sister was laughable.  Even my sister just rolled her eyes at her and said, “Flight leaves on the 19th, K thx bye!” 

“But out of the ashes comes the Phoenix”


What I mean is…my sister and I are really getting super close now and that is nice.  She just lost her job of 6 years, 2 weeks ago.  She’s  been helping me out with The Boy a lot so i don’t have to rely on my mother anymore.  She knew she was going to get laid off from her job eventually, she just didn’t know when.  She said when she did she would move and I always told her, I would be right behind her and now, she is SERIOUSLY thinking of moving…..to London!!!

Collage from Wikipedia

Collage from Wikipedia


But in all honesty I would be all for it.  I’ve always said that I would up and move anywhere at any time.  It would be such an adventure!

I would do it…

Anyway, in other news, I dyed my hair finally after a few months of greys growing in.  It’s a lovely raven black again and now longer and with the Stout Lush shampoo combined with the cream conditioner the dye package had, it flows like silk in water.  Or so I wish? LOL  But no really it does and I love the black color.  I’ve been black for many many years after trying every color that natural hair comes in.  The blond was the worse.  I looked like a washed out doll.

Tonight….Disneyland for the evening!  And my sister is joining me even though she can’t get in, she can stay in Downtown Disney with The Boy while I get my Tower of Terror fix!

“Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?” –Mycroft Holmes

As I’ve mentioned before, I told my sister about the secret to my current weight loss and she is all for it and even planning on playing the weight loss game with me which I think is great because I love a good challenge.

On my visit to her Saturday, I found out something that in our whole lives of being sisters has NEVER happened…EVER!  More on that to come.

However, my sister……my sister is a great person.  I love her to pieces but sometimes, she just needs to know when to shut up.

Yesterday, I go over to her house to visit and have some sisterly bonding.  Our parents are on a rough road right now.  My mother, well is my mother, but she just had knee surgery and my father, well, the Alzheimer’s and speech problems are REALLY setting in.  Even though he hasn’t been officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, we all know what is happening.  My mother is finding it hard to deal with him.  His doctor will be scheduling an MRI soon and that should be the determining factor.  So my sister and I talk about what we are going to do, how we are going to help them out even with me trying to raise a child and she is dealing with just recently losing her job of 6 years.

Anyway,  the conversation turned toward me losing 22 lbs so far and she was asking me about what I actually eat.  I told her that I stay away from carbs, mostly breads and that my portions are significantly reduced and I no longer go to fast food joints.  Also that the appetite suppressants are really doing their job and I pretty much do no over eating at all.

The conversation went kind of like this:

Me:  “I brought mom and dad El Pollo Loco today.  I like the Pollo Chicken Bowl.”

Sister:  ” Oh so you can EAT a Pollo Bowl?  What about the rice?”

Me:  “Technically rice is bad because it’s a carb but I will still eat very little of it and for the most part I eat the beans and chicken of the bowl, and leave the rice.  Just like how they say a Jamba Juice is bad because of all the carbs in the fruit, but I know my body.  For me, having a Jamba Juice or a small pollo bowl is better than a #2 Combo Meal at McDonald’s, large sized.”

Sister:  “Well, you know that you are going to reach a point where you will have to stop doing that because you aren’t going to lose weight and you can’t cheat like that?”

Me:  …….. (but inside my head I’m like “uh…jealous much!”)

Moving on…

Sister:  “So are the appetite suppressants still working?.”

Me:  “Yup, my portions are super tiny and I’ve been eating more fruits and veggies because they are less filling than a super sized carne asada burrito, for example.  I think about a carne asada burrito and I want to vomit.”

Sister:  “Well, they will stop working eventually and you will be used to them and you will eat the way you did before and gain the weight back.”

Me:  …………..  (but what I’m REALLY thinking is….)


I see my mother in her SO much sometimes.  On the one hand, she is saying to me  “wow good job on losing 22lbs!“….but then, that statement is not long followed with something that sounds like  “but eventually you will FAIL!

I guess maybe sometimes I can throw out some back handed compliments without realizing it but I really try to curb them.  I also try to always work hard to keep the peace with her and I tend to be more honest with her than our mother.  Mostly because we have a lot of history, share stories, share the same opinions on our parents (even if I tend to feel more strongly about it than she) and have hidden “one liner” jokes and such that no one understands except she and I.  I wouldn’t want to lose that.

"Do ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?"

“Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?”

Lately, we both share a love for the BBC’s Sherlock Holmes series (and Benedict Cumberbatch) an obsession that I will admit she started and got me hooked on.  (Thanks Sis!  As if obsessing over Leo and Orlando wasn’t enough!)

We found a connection with the relationship between Sherlock and his brother Mycroft.  They obviously love each other but treat each other in only a way that they understand, yet to others on the outside, may seem cold and cruel.  Especially, when they converse together.  They share a past together that only they can understand, but obviously affected them greatly, and they share a kind of genius “higher than thou” attitude which the origin of, only they understand.

This can be the same with my sister and I.  However, I don’t think we have genius minds, but when we look at how our lives have gone, how our pasts have affected us then up to now, both husband-less, alone and untrusting of people we sometimes ask ourselves this very same question:

Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?” –Mycroft Holmes

With us, it’s the lack of trust for people, not that we don’t feel or care about things that go on in our lives, as the Holmes Brothers may be experiencing.   Her and I have very hard hearts sometimes, which could lead to our loneliness.

However, knowing all that, I also learn when to pick and choose my battles with my sister and this one I just laughed off.  Why?  Well that is simple.  Because after I told her I had lost a total of 22 lbs and counting…she jumped on her scale and guess what folks…..

I now weigh less than my 6 year younger than me, sister.  That is something that has NEVER happened before in the whole of our lives.

I actually do hope that she starts this weight loss program or just stops eating carbs and sweets, but she is an over eater, as I was, so I know how hard that is without help.

But until then,  I will weigh less than her!

Love ya Sis!

“You have a cannon aimed at your head”

Bringing to you yet another of my famous Tarantino posts……..

“You have a canon aimed at your head”

Why did The Boy say the above….

Let’s go back…..Let’s go back….

As many of you may know, I have Disneyland Annual Passes and have had them for the good part of the past 9 years.  So I go to the Park quiet often.

Therefore, I have ridden the famous ride Pirates of the Caribbean many many times.  However, during the last ride that I took when The Boy and I visted the Park this past Friday Night, he pointed out something to me that I have never noticed before on that ride.

We got through the ride ok and got to the jail and dog carrying the key scene….

Photo from Daveandlandweb.com - A GREAT Disney parks and dark ride photographer.

Photo from Davelandweb.com – A GREAT Disney parks and dark ride photographer.

Then, it seemed that the boats started to get backed up so we were waiting fairly long in the dark area right before the end scene where they are shooting across us with high explosives everywhere.

The next thing I hear is The Boy saying this:

“You have a cannon aimed at your head”

I must have given a WTF? look but then I looked to my right and yup, my face was about one foot from and staring down the barrel of a very large sized cannon…..


Not actual cannon but gets the point across  Photo from sharemickey.com

In all the many times I’ve ridden this ride, I have never noticed this canon.  It may have been because we normally don’t stop in this dark area for a very long time and even if we did, it was dark.  You would have to really look to notice this cannon was there and you would really need the time to look through the dark to notice it was there.

I found that amusing and even a bit unnerving.  Yet, how many times in one’s life can they say they looked down the dark barrel of an original cast iron cannon!

Dreams, “poppin’ tags” and being THIN

“Hey, can we go Thrift Shopping?”

Being that I am kid free tonight, after much deliberation, I decided that I am going to go pop some tags tonight. goodwill_logo2Yes, folks, I am going thrift shopping.  Or at least go to the Good Will for some “new” jeans and whatever else I see.  I’m losing weight so I really do not want to spend money on name brand jeans from a store because I might not fit into them in a few months.  I actually do most of my shopping at the Good Will anyway.  I’ve never been much of a shopper and can’t stand spending money on clothes or shoes or foo foo accessories.  So Good Will prices work for me.  And sometimes, if I dig hard enough, I can find items that still have the original tags on them, meaning never worn! 

That’s what I’ll be doing after work.

If I get shot in a dream but don’t bleed or die, does that mean I’m Super Girl?

The past two nights, I’ve been having a disturbing dream.  I dream I am getting shot in the face by some guy I don’t know.  Yet, the bullets never affect me nor hurt me.  This random guy shoots many bullets at me but I don’t feel them at all.  I just hear them go “POP!” and see him pointing the gun at me and can see the shots going off but never feel them

What the heck!  I always wake up very shaken up and afraid.  It’s always in the middle of the night when I wake up from these dreams and my cat, the past few nights has also taken to meowing VERY loud at me while I sleep in my bed at 2 a.m.  I think it’s time for another cat shaming.  So I haven’t been to good on getting a restful sleep lately.  I just hope the dreams stop.


Now that I have HBO Go on my computer, I have access to some great HBO Documentaries.  I’ve seen a few on the holocaust, and movie stars.  But last night, I saw a new addition to the list called THIN.


It was VERY hard to get through.  This documentary followed several women while they were at the Renfrew Center .   Being someone who has struggled with weight and over eating, it is very understandable to me to see where the mind frame of some of these women come from.  I have never been anorexic, that is not my thing, but over eating sure was.  However, I have also never tried purging as vomiting is a horrible aversion for me and I don’t even like doing it when I was sick or drunk.

These women really think that they are fat or they will find every single fault they can with their bodies.

imagesCAIF2XKEIn the picture to the left, the patient was asked to draw and outline of what they feel their body looks like.  Then, they would be asked to stand against the drawing they did and the counselor would draw the actual outline of their body.  The photo above was the result and as you can see, the black outline is what she thinks of herself and the red outline is what she really is.  However, when asked “how do you feel about what you are seeing?” the first thing the patient did was say “I see faults” and she proceeded to write on the drawing everything that was wrong with the smaller version of her.  It was incredible and so sad.

None of the women in this place maxed out weight anywhere over 110lbs, if that much.  I would say most of them were at about 90lbs.  It was very interesting to see how others perceive themselves, how their pasts and words said by other from their past create this disease and misconception of themselves. 

When it ended, they did a follow up blurb on each of the main patients that were in it.  Basically, they all had been released from the Center, however, they all went back to restricting food and/or purging when eating.  One main character even committed suicide a few years later.

It kind of centers one back down to earth when we see how hard these people struggle and how much others’ words can effect anyone.

*EDIT: Well what do you know. Just got a text from my sister who was supposed to pick up my son later today saying she has a doctor appointment and might not be able to pick him up after all.

I am not surprised in the least.  This is typical of my family and why I get no kid free nights.

What gets my goat is that she says “sure I’ll pick him up” then oh never mind forgot I had a doctor appointment.  Why offer if you had something else to do?  And saying you forgot just doesn’t cut it with me.  Think before you fucking speak.

Damnit…I’m so pissed off.  No poppin tags for me!


The List

A recent conversation got me to thinking about going over and cleaning up my List.

What is this List that I speak of?

As I posted in an entry about The Nothing taking me over, I have felt the bitter sting of loneliness and the foreboding it produces when there is just a lonely road to The Nothing ahead.

I thought to myself, “why am I on this road?”……I thought and thought…..

Then realized it was because of The List.

Yes, The List.  This is a mental list that I keep inside the recesses of my brain.  This List contains the personality traits and or characteristics that I do NOT like in a man and even sometimes in humans in general.

*Note: I somewhat intend this to be a sort of parody.  With that being said, if something below sounds really far fetched and just ridiculous, it probably is.  I’m being funny.  So, please do not assume I am a man hater, or a gold digger or anything like that.  I understand acceptions to the rule. I am not perfect myself and will never admit to being such.  I do not hate men.  Especially since men are the only way for me to have decent sex with something that doesn’t require batteries, even if that hasn’t happened in a long time and pay no never mind to the fact that the last time it did, I was so desperate that it was with a 300+lb man.  Not my most glorious moment….ANYWAY moving on!


This List includes, but is not limited to (presented in no particular order):

1. You must have a job

Nope, not a job to pay for ME.  I have been working since I was 17 years old, sometimes 2 jobs while going to school full time.  I can earn my own money and pay my own bills.  I don’t need your money.  What I mean is I’m not going to be paying for any part of you.  Being that I am just a few years from 40 (damn it) I will assume that you will be as well, if not already over 40.  That means you should have a job at this point in your life.  I’m not looking for you to be a CEO of some big software company or the President of some stock market company.  Just a job that shows that you are not lazy and will work to contribute to society.


Now, I understand the economy sucks and people lose jobs.  That is the “out” clause here but that does not imply that I will be paying for all things, all the time.   You are out of work, you look for it.

And don’t tell me “oh but I have been looking and there is nothing out there” while you are laying on the couch playing video games.  You will be addressing someone who has been laid off from 4 different jobs in the past since 2010.  I know how much the job search sucks.  But I made it through.  You’re whining will fall on deaf ears.

2.  You will have your own living arrangements

By this I mean, do not be living in your Mama’s basement where she cooks your meals and does your laundry.  I ain’t your Mama and I don’t want to be, EVER.  I already have a son I’m raising.  I am not interested in taking care of another man child. thCA1A9DI9

In accordance to this, you cannot be living in a back room of some friends’ house or on a friends’ couch.  When I mean living arrangements, it means you will have your own apartment, condo, and/or house.  And that does not mean in a friends’ house on his couch.

The reasoning behind this is to show that you have independence from Mommy and friends.  It shows responsibility.  Because you better believe me when I say that you are not going to be moving from your friends couch or your Mama’s basement to come live with me in my apartment I rent and pay for.  (Please refer to  #1).

2.1  Also have a car. I will not be required to drive you around everywhere like you were my teenage child.  Again, I am not your Mama and never want to be.

3. Be a Gentleman

This goes hand in hand with the requirement of not being an Asshole.  This does not mean you have to open doors for me all the time, even though at the beginning, it’s sweet, but it isn’t a forever requirement.

What this means is don’t be a jerk.  I’m sure you’ve been on this planet for a long time and know what a jerk is.  Don’t say rude things, respect other peoples’ feelings and have some sort of human decency inside you. thCAEKJHXG

For instance, if you see a family who is struggling emotionally because their son/father/brother just got killed overseas, do NOT say “They knew what they were signing up for. They need to deal with it”.  That is an asshole, insensitive thing to say and is a sign of Assholery and will get you booted out and kicked to the curb quicker than flies to dog poop.

If I wanted an Asshole, I can just give my ex-husband a call.  And no, I am not the bitter ex-wife.  He is a certified Asshole.  I wasn’t the only one who saw it.  Also, I can’t call someone who abandons their son when he is a year old and never looks back nor communicates with him ever, anything but an Asshole.

4. Live a healthy lifestyle


Thank you Entertainment Magazine…..

Ok let me explain.  I do not expect you to be someone who looks like the werewolves from True Blood (one of which is pictured to the right.  Ladies, you are welcome, enjoy).  Unless, maybe, I looked like the female wolves in that show (I will NOT be posting a photo of them, it makes me sick).  Google it and I can tell you, I do not look like them.

However, I am in the process of losing weight, getting in a better shape and just being healthy.  I expect the same from you.  This also includes, no drug use, no alcohol abuse (Notice I said ABUSE, not usage.  I partake of the liquor every once in a while but I don’t abuse it.), no eating Fast Food like it is a new food group.  Once in a while is fine, but it is not meant for every day consumption.  Your arteries are crying out in agony and I’m not taking care of you when diabetes renders you immobile.

Again, it’s about HEALTH not LOOKS.  To some,  I may not be anything to look at and that’s fine but I try to be healthy and I am trying to get to a healthy weight.  And please don’t try and tell me that being 300 lbs is healthy.  Uh, it isn’t.

5. Do NOT withhold physical contact

If I want a hug you better damned well give it.  If I want a kiss you better damned well give it.  If I want to just hold your hand during a movie, don’t flinch and pull away like I have leprosy.  You are with me, which leads me to believe that you at the very least like me, which leads me to believe that you like touching me.  So show it.  Also, if I want sex, you better damned well deliver.

 *note* the latter is mentioned because my ex-husband, during our marriage, never wanted sex or any intimacy, period.  It was debilitating to my soul and I will not have my inner spirit crushed (yet again) by someone who does not like intimacy.

6. No mind games or abuse of ANY kind

This is a No Exception rule.  There will be no lying, cheating, hitting or mental abuse ever.  Sure, there will be arguments and even fights over things but the moment it escalates into a physical altercation, ugly things being said and/or cheating, it’s over.  No Exceptions.

6.1. Please note that this rule applies to myself as well and I will hold myself accountable to follow it.

7. No Atheists allowed

thCADU0X0JThis one might need explaining.  I’m not saying you have to go on Bible Beating rampages with me ( because I don’t do that) or that we have to model our lives like The Duggars (uh…no way).  I’m simply saying that you respect and give God the praise He is due.  I certainly didn’t get through the trials and tribulations I have in my past alone.  God was with me and I believe that and you can’t change my mind about that.  So don’t try.

You may ask, Will I try to beat you down with the Word of Jesus?  Uh no, I most assuredly won’t.  If you don’t believe that is between you and God.  But respect that I do and that is how I live and that if you don’t believe, it would probably not work out.

If I wanted and Atheist, I could just go back to my ex-husband.

8. I like cats


Plain and simple. I know some people have severe allergies and I understand that cat dander can be very dangerous to their health.  However, that is not the case for me.  I love my cat, I always will (even if I do Cat Shame him every once in a while) and when he is gone I will get another.  I may get more before he is gone, but there will never be a discussion regarding negotiations about getting rid of my cat or denying my love for them.  I have already been through it with my own family and put down, ridiculed and made fun of for my love of cats (they are cat hating people who claim allergies as the reason).  I fought that battle and do not intend to fight it again.  I also like dogs (not more than cats though), preferably small ones such as Dachshunds and Beagles but NEVER Chihuahuas.

9. My family means a lot to me

Don't forget to wield your vorpal blade regularly!

Don’t forget to sharpen your Vorpal Blade regularly!

You may hear me rant about my Mother and rightly so.  However, regardless of how I do or do not get along with her or any other member of my family, you will never put them down or talk bad against them.  That is my job and by my job I mean, I’m just venting.

I love my family even if I loathe them sometimes.  They made me who I am, which is the person you are with.

10. Accept that my son comes first, always

This is pretty self explanatory.  As long as he is a minor and I am his primary caregiver, he will come first over any other human being.  This may possibly even spill over into the years after he is 18 since being a parent is not something that stops when said child becomes of age.  You probably have children of your own, so more than likely, you understand what I mean.

Furthermore, if you choose to ignore this point and there is any evidence that you are mistreating that which is most important to me, even if all other preceding points are met, this whole list and the whole relationship becomes null and void and you will be watching me as I slam the door in your face and calling the local Home Depot for the prices of their door locks.  If you happened to be able to get to the door slamming part without me ripping you to shreds, consider yourself lucky and move on.

Depending on how much of a Mother Bear I turn into, the local authorities might be informed as well.

Mother Bear

This List may grow as many times as I see fit.

If you have your own list that you would like to share, by all means, please do so.  And if I don’t fit up to your Lists’ standards, I have no problem moving on.  I wouldn’t want to waste your time anymore than I would want to waste my own.

However, if you are too shallow to get past the fact that I don’t look like Mila Kunis, then we won’t even get past The List.

There, that should eliminate pretty much the whole populace.

Any Qvestions?


/Parody done

“I have a difficult daughter and I have an easy daughter”

My mother once told me that she related her daughters as having a “difficult” daughter and having an “easy” daughter.

Apparently, the difficult daughter is labeled such only because she is different. That, would be me.

I only have one sibling. My sister is 6 years younger than me. She is smart, independent and says it like it is (saying she is “blunt” is putting it lightly).

Note: Technically, I also have an older half sister and older half brother but they were from my father’s previous marriage and even though I am in contact with my older sister occasionally, I did not live with her nor really share a life with her.  My older brother, none of us talk to at all, but that is a different story.

I have always felt that God played a little joke on me and made me the older sister, by age only. In essence, I have always felt that my younger sister should have been the older one and I, the younger. Our roles were always reversed compared to what the norm of what older and younger siblings are usually like. I was what you would call the “black sheep”, always arguing with my parents, always making the wrong choices. My sister, did everything to please them, did everything right. She went to the Christian high school while I chose to go to a public. She obliged them (and when I say “them” I mostly mean our mother) while I made it a point to buck heads and have a totally different opinion on everything.  I actually believe I’m more like my father, very easy going, plain and simple.

The Shabby Chic Look (Photo from erasofelegance.com)

My sister is the one who bought the two story condominium at the age of 28 while I went on to marry the wrong man, had a child, went through a divorce, became a single parent and now live in a small, 755 square foot, 2 bedroom apartment that I pay WAY to much for.

Even the way that my sister’s house is decorated is the same taste as our mother’s. It is what you would call Shabby Chic where the colors are very bright, pink, frilly and fluffy (it makes my teeth hurt just describing it).

Even the walls in this photo are to light for me, but this is close enough. (Photo from hermonacasa.com)

I prefer the darker contemporary look, where the furniture is either a dark brown or black. Cabinets in the kitchen must be dark, not white or oak, with stainless steel appliances. I like dark frames on the wall art and walls a darker color like maybe a dark red or brown. If I went lighter in color, it would not be pink or beige.  It would be grey (something my mother has winced over hearing).

My apartment and my sisters’ house are two polar opposites of the interior decorating spectrum.

Another aspect of difference is along the lines of baking and cooking. I don’t like doing either. I just am not that good at it and I don’t have the patience for cooking and especially baking and/or decorating baked good, such as cakes. My mother was a cake decorator when she was younger. She made the most amazing cakes for her time, which was in the late 70’s and early 80’s. She never did it professionally nor did she ever open up her own business. She just did the cakes for friends and family.

My sister, of course, inherited that talent from her. My sister makes the most amazing cupcakes. She patiently molds fondant and pipes icing onto cupcakes and cakes with such ease.  That is just something I could never grasp. I have tried to sit and ice a cupcake with her a few times but my “flowers” come out so pathetic I just feel ashamed.

Below are the actual photos of the creations that they have made. They decorated these on their own, in their own kitchens.

I did once try to create something and try my luck with fondant but it just turned out to be a sad shove into reality that cake decorating was just not my thing.

I went for something Halloween themed. This was supposed to be a graveyard with the fence. It got some laughs :)

I went for something Halloween themed. This was supposed to be a graveyard with the fence. It got some laughs 🙂

In all honesty, I do admire this talent they have.

I think that because my mother and sister are so similar in personality may be why my mother never knows what I like. She is not familiar with it. That labels me, in her mind, as difficult. I’m sure it’s much easier for her to relate to the one daughter who she understands and has similarities to.  Although, I have never agreed with the theory that just because someone is different automatically makes them difficult.

I’m reminded of a quote from A League of Their Own. This is the scene where the younger sister, Kit, is pointing out to her older sister, Dottie, that their parents favor Dottie over Kit.

Kit Keller: You ever hear Dad introduce us to people? “This is our daughter Dottie, and this is our other daughter, Dottie’s sister.” Should’ve just had you and bought a dog!

That is the phrase that runs through my thoughts about this subject. My parents should have had my sister and just bought her a dog.  Or maybe our personalities would have been suited better if we were able to just switch sibling rolls. I believe my sister would have been able to handle my mother better if she had been the first to be born and start the relationship off with issues. My sister can talk to both our parents better than I can. I tend to always approach them ready for a fight, because that is how it has always been with us, especially with our mother. I don’t understand my mother sometimes and I will admit to sometimes not having the energy or the patience to deal with her. Just like with the patience she puts into her cake creations, my sister has the patience to tolerate a little more drama. I just have a short patience fuse when it comes to dramatics.

In our younger years, my sister and I didn’t agree a lot and had a few falling outs. But as of lately, it’s been nice to go over to her house and just talk.  I know that she understands my aversion to keeping a solid relationship with our mother and I understand why she is capable of keeping that solid relationship with her.  A lot of her views I don’t necessarily agree with but I’m sure she feels the same about me.

The irony of our labels as the Difficult or Easy Daughter lies within the fact that one of us is a recovering alcoholic, sex addict, drug addict, compulsive over eater and self mutilator.

I can tell you with all certainty, it is NOT the Difficult Daughter.

Guest Blogger on Black Box Warnings

I had the absolute honor to be featured on the well known blog, Black Box Warnings

Being a Mother not like my Mother

When Le Clown asked me to do a guest blog there, I didn’t know what to write about. I had so many issues, yet I felt that alot of my issues were nothing compared to the things that some of the other guest bloggers have posted about. So, that familiar feeling of inadequacy came rearing its ugly head.

I tossed around blogging about my loneliness, or my failed marriage, or my life as a single mother. It was the last one that made me think “ok, I will use the fact that I’m a mother somewhere in there because it’s changed my life entirely”

Then I thought of my own mother. I thought of the turmoil of emotions I feel with and about her and have felt my whole life. How much I love her and how much she frustrates me to no end.

I chose to write about how my  mother influenced my own way of mothering.  And it may not be in the way that you think.

Anyway, have a look and be sure to read some of the other posts to. Some of the people who blog  there are very brave and strong to have survived some of the things they have. They are a great group of people.

You can treat me like shit all you want….but

You can treat me like shit all you want….but when you start to disregard my kids’ feelings, that crosses the line.

Let me explain this with some back story about this weekend:

For the Memorial Day weekend, I had some extra money so I decided to take a small mini-trip out to Long Beach. I wanted to take The Boy to The Aquarium of the Pacific on Sunday.  So Saturday, we drove the 1 hour out there then stayed at a hotel there in downtown Long Beach only about 5 minutes from the Aquarium.  It was a Marriott and it was ok. It didn’t have room service and there was a very loud bunch of people partying two doors down from me late at night that I had to complain about but they took care of it fast enough.  The restaurant it did have was pretty expensive but it had to do as there wasn’t much close by and I didn’t want to be walking or driving the streets of Long Beach alone trying to find something. It did have a pool which The Boy enjoyed and a great exercise room with little T.V.’s attached to each machine. That was nice.

My room also had a great view of the Queen Mary from the balcony:

Taken from thebalcony of my room. See the Queen Mary?

Taken from the balcony of my room. See the Queen Mary?

On Sunday, after we spent a few hours at the Aquarium we ate at Bubba Gump’s Shrimp Co. which was right across from the Aquarium. Then we walked around the harbor and took some photos around the lighthouse there and just enjoyed the ocean breeze.  We were even able to see a Sea Lion swim up to the harbor and catch 2 fish! He was also talking to us. The Boy got a kick out of that.  I have a SD card full of photos but I haven’t had a chance to get them onto my computer yet. That will be coming soon. Lots of great Aquarium photos.

Anyway, here is the reason for my above beginning statement.  Just as a safety precaution, when I go out of town like this, I let my sister know when I will be gone and what hotel I will be at. Apparently, even though I told my mother a few days before that I was going to be driving down to Long Beach, she was upset that she didn’t get told all the information, as I told my sister.

First, I don’t need to ask her permission to take a trip out of town (which is really what she was wanting me to do, ask for her permission). Second, I did not want to tell her the info because, in all honesty, she gets upset when I do things like this and starts to discourage it. She says that I can’t and shouldn’t take trips with The Boy alone (uh…I’m single mom, how else am I going to do it?!).  Her reasoning is because I don’t have a husband and will get killed. No joke…her words. I tend to try and stay away from her negativity on things like this.

First of all, I do not take these trips at night nor do I take my 9 year old and roam unfamiliar streets at night. I get a hotel  in well populated areas and do research before booking. I recently took a trip to Sea World in San Diego and that was a 2 hour drive away and I also took the same precautions. My mother constantly wants to point out that A) I don’t have a man around and B) that I can’t take care of my kid properly.

jealousI have since figured out that she is just jealous. This theory has also been confirmed by my sister, who agrees that this is the case. Commandent #10 Thou shalt not covet (jealousy). Oh how I can not tolerate hypocrisy especially when she was telling me just days before I was a bad mother because I had missed some church. Yeah, remember that CULT you brought us up in Mother? Don’t bring God into it. 

Anyway, my sister was at our mother’s house all weekend (my mother gets along better with my sister because my sister tolerates her better than I do. I tend to get really exhausted of her drama). Come Monday, I call up my mother and say that I wanted to come over and The Boy wanted to show her the pictures he took with his camera at the Aquarium. At this point, I pretty much have no idea that she is mad at me for taking a trip to Long Beach. She tells me no, I am not welcome and I’m taken aback (first thing I think is WTF did I do now?!). I say, well The Boy would like to show you his pictures and she very curtly says no she doesn’t want visitors. At this point, I realize she doesn’t want to see me, fine. So then I offer to just drop off The Boy so he can show her his pictures.  To that she says no. This hurt The Boy because she is never this way to him, only me. (oh how he will soon start to see how cold and cruel his grandmother can be….I’ve seen it all my life but he will soon start to pull away, as I have).


We were already in the car, ready to go and I just happened to think I should call before arriving unannounced even though she says we can show up anytime. So we are sitting in the car, The Boy is on the verge of tears, I already am fighting back tears because this woman hurt my boy and it’s like I see my childhood, through him, how she has hurt me so many times in the past with her cold words.

I think quick for a distraction and suggest to The Boy that we go to Gamestop and trade in his old games and get him a new one (something he’s been wanting to do for a while but been forgetting to do). This proved a good plan and The Boy was better.

Later, my sister joined us and we had a nice lunch.  She told me of her weekend with our mother and she explained to me that our mother is stressed because she is preparing to move her elderly step mother into her house (her father died back in September leaving her step mother needing to be cared for). She is also stressed that she is also caring for my memory loss father. His doctor doesn’t want to give him the diagnosis of Dementia because he thinks he’s to young to have that but pretty much, that is the diagnosis. My father is 62.  She also has a problem with her knee and will be needing surgery in June.

Now, I understand my mother’s is stressed and she hates how her life is going (hence the jealousy at my freedom to get in a car and take a mini road trip).  She has said she wanted to travel in her Golden Years but now she’s taking care of elderly people and stuck at home. I can see how that is frustrating, I WOULD be frustrated.


You’re on the road to a lonely life, Mother.

However, that does not mean that she should push away the ONLY people who have been there for her since all of this madness started. The only people who haven’t left it ALL up to her to deal with are my sister and I.  Granted, my sister may have helped more by being there more emotionally for my mother but I just don’t have that kind of relationship with our mother and I am a mother myself and will always put my child first (something that I think my mother is also jealous about, that I put someone else first, above her…).  We have helped her through A LOT of trauma in the past 10 years caused by her family. Her own two sisters leave a lot of this up to her because they are too selfish to do anything else. 

My mother has already told my sister that she knows I’ve been pushing away from her, limiting my time at her house and she is right. In essence, I only visit so that The Boy can have some time with his grandparents but with the way its going pretty soon its going to be me just dropping The Boy off and I leave. For me, I would be fine to never see her more than a few times a year. That is probably as much as I can take of her mind games, manipulations, guilt trips and “whoa is me” drama. Until she gets her priorities straight I can’t tolerate her attitude nor mask my disgust for it.  As harsh as that sounds, it is how I feel. I have my own child to raise and think about. I don’t really have time for her drama.

So now, I have to worry about what mood she will be in as I have scheduled her to watch The Boy on Friday’s and Monday’s in June and July, which was at her request as she always lays down on me the guilt trip that The Boy is her only joy in her life. OH yeah, that was very apparent yesterday when you told him he wasn’t welcome at your house all because you were jealous that he and I took a trip to Long Beach. 

NOW, who’s being selfish…..

*sigh* Regardless,  I’m ready to ask for any of those days off if needed since I have already put in his summer schedule with the summer camp, which can’t be changed unless I pay a fee. I will probably end up paying the fee if that happens.  But this is how my mother is and has been my whole life.

I was invited to guest blog at Black Box Warnings and I tossed around what I would blog about. I thought of what has affected me most in my life. Is it my current loneliness? My life as Single Mother? Maybe my short married life ending in divorce? 

In the end, I chose to write about my mother and why, after 36 years,  I realize that I neither want nor care for a close knit relationship with her.  She is what I like to call an Emotional Vampire and I think for my own sanity, I keep a safe distance.

That guest post will show up early June.

Bad Parenting 101 – Taking a kid to a movie

Last night, I used my AMC $25 gift card I got from Verizon (adult tickets at AMC are now $12!!!) and finally got to take The Boy to see Iron Man.  He enjoyed it. He really likes the flying Mark’s (yes at one point all the suits fly together…very cool stuff). My new Iron Man Build a Bear named Snuggles even got to join us

But this entry isn’t about how great Iron Man was and what a good time I had. I wished that it was. I did have a good time though and as The Boy gets older, he becomes more fun and yet, more mouthy. So it’s the best of both worlds.

No, this is a post about a screaming 2 year old in the theatre.


Now, I was apprehensive about taking my 9 year old to see this movie as the reviews set the age range around 13  but it actually wasn’t to bad. Once, Tony did say “pussy” but he was using that word in reference to being one, not…well you know and he said it so fast it was easy to miss. There was more explosions than anything else.

Anyway, we are sitting in the theatre, about 4 rows up and about ¼ into the movie, there was this child, at the most 2 or 3 years old and his mother. This child was VERY loud. He was loud even during the loud explosion scenes. At some points, the mother took him into the hallway out of the theatre but for the most part, she just let him sit there, being loud.

There were two women sitting behind us who finally had enough and told the mother her kid was being loud.

This mother did nothing…

10 minutes later, the other woman told this mother her kid was being loud and it was distrupting others.

This mother did nothing…

FINALLY, one of the women got up and went outside. I was assuming it was to tell a movie theatre worker about this.

Next thing, the mother leaves with her child and 10 minutes later comes back with NO child.

Did she leave him outside?

Did she have someone come get him so she could watch the rest of the movie on her own?

If it was the latter, why couldn’t she have done that in the FIRST place instead of pissing off a theatre full of people.

The ignorance and absolute disregard for others really shined last night, in an AMC movie theatre in Rancho Cucamonga, CA.

But that isn’t what upsets me the most. What upsets me is that I am ALWAYS super aware of how I affect others around me. In this instance, if I had been that mother. I would have left the theatre and admitted to myself that I made a mistake. Because I really don’t think Iron Man was a suitable movie for a 2 year old. I felt I was pushing the envelope with my 9 year old but he’s older than he seems.

This woman was just lucky that some one didn’t have a bad day that day and just wanted to relax and get out of the 100 degree weather to sit in a nice cool theatre to watch Iron Man. That person may have snapped and done more than just tell her to shut her kid up.

My kid knows me……

My Mother’s Day turned out to be the best yet when it comes to the gifts. My kid got me this…


Yup, Ladies and Gents, that is the Iron Man Suit on a brand new bear. He went to Build a Bear (dragging my mother along because a 9 year old can’t pay for things himself and being it was a gift for me, I couldn’t take him) and got it for me. How much does my kid know me!

I also got a Minnie Mouse watch from my Aunt and a Dumbo wall placard that features Dumbo and his mother, Mrs. Jumbo, from my cousin…41i-3OB-LPL._SL500_AA300_My aunt and cousin know me…

My mother, the woman who birthed me and has known me for 36 years….what did she get me?

A gift card…..a gift card to a store I have NEVER gone into and have never mentioned before in my life, TJMaxx.


Now, I know the preceding sentence seems a bit like a childish and ungrateful vent but let me explain. My mother has NEVER known how to gift for me. Yet, my cousin, who I see at most 2 or 3 times a year, got me something perfect and my Aunt, who I rarely communicate with outside of Facebook, also gifted perfect for me.

My mother doesn’t even know that I hate loathe and despise shopping and always says “I don’t know what you like”.

Really? Two people who rarely see me know what I like better! This has been an ongoing pet peeve of mine for a while.

For example, two Christmas’s ago, my new boss of 6 months knew me better than my mother. He got me an Eeyore ornament and plushie for Christmas that year. My mother, once again saying she doesn’t know how to gift for me, got me a scarf and a pair of gloves, two items that I have a box full of and never use in S. California.

You know what though, I get a kick out of this phenomenon between myself and my mother. It used to infuriate me that she never bothers to pay attention to me enough to know what I like, but now, I laugh at it. And I also realized that sometimes, it’s not that she doesn’t know me, it’s that she may not like who I am.

I can believe that. And I could care less!

Witnessing the moment my best friend died…..

An experience like what I describe below is an experience one never forgets.

The following is long but its best to start out with how I came to be blessed with and to love my Best Friend.

M. and I were best friends from the womb. It’s true!

Our mothers were best friends. They both became pregnant at the same time. She was born only two months before me. Her in September, me in December. We were friends from the beginning of our lives. That is why I always considered her more of a sister to me.

We grew up together, played together. I used to wait for her at her house when my mother would be helping her mother with work. I would wait for her at her front door for her to come  home from school. We started our gaming together.

And she always envied my Strawberry Shortcake collection.

I didn't have quite this many, but almost. Memories...

I didn’t have quite this many, but almost. I also had the play house that came with the set. Memories…

Yet, I always envied her Cabbage Patch Kid collection.

More memories. And she even had the TWINS!

More memories. And she even had the TWINS!

We would always spend the night at each other’s houses. We even shared clothes. I remember we had other friends as our parents knew a lot of people in our Cult but it was always me and her.

As we got older, our paths stopped crossing. We both went to the same private school the Cult owned.  But I was set back in the 6th grade leaving her and a lot of my other friends to move forward while I stayed behind. Luckily, I made new friends but she was in Jr High and I was still stuck in elementary. We no longer shared the same adventures and friends as we used to.

In high school, she ended up going to a public school a year earlier than me at a school that was about 15 miles from where I ended up going to public school. Our paths never crossed much at all at that point. I made my own friends in my school though. But we still remained as close as we could, considering our distance.

She started college at U.C. San Diego during my Senior year in high school. I spent many weekends visiting her during my Senior year in high school, partying with her and her new circle of college friends.  Being that I didn’t have many friends at my own school, there was no reason for me to not visit her when I didn’t have to actually go to school.

I remember a few weekends in Tijuana. I remember getting super drunk and making out with one of her guy friends who I was super attracted to. I remember her drunk friends (not me) who she always ended up having to babysit at the end of the night.

Oh no she didn't

One night, I was at home and she called me up around 2am, crying. If you knew her, you would have known that she never cried. Half asleep, I asked her what is wrong and she tells me that one of her friends had gotten drunk and started making out with her boyfriend.

Well, I had my shoes on, my keys in my hand and I told her I would be over there in 1 hour (it took 2 1/2 hours to drive from my house to her dorm in San Diego) to kick this girls ass.  She soon realized that she may have had a mistake in calling me knowing that I would react this way. Again if you knew her, you would also know that she was the most non-confrontational and easy going person on the planet. That is why lots of different people were attracted to her and able to take advantage of her. Even the drunk sluts…

Needless to say, I did not kick anyone’s ass that night, which may have been a good thing.

Towards the end of her first year in college, she started to get really really tired. She later told me that she thought she was partying too much, and smoking and drinking too much or maybe the 1st year of college was taking its toll on her. So she cut down on smoking and drinking. But just before the end of her Freshman year in college she was sent to the ER because she was having trouble breathing.

We later found out, she had a large lump in her neck just at the collarbone and one crushing her lungs.

When it was thoroughly examined, she ended up with the diagnosis of Cancer, Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

She was 18 years old.

She recovered from the initial onset of it and did her radiation treatments. She had a head full of dark lustrous naturally curly hair. And I mean the curls that are ringlets, all what God had given her. She never dyed it excessively and always kept is long.  Her hair was beautiful.

Within months of her treatments, it was gone. She was devastated. Myself and many of our other friends pitched in for hats and scarves to help her out. It was all we could do.

After a year of the treatments and her losing all her hair, she finally went into remission. She had 2 years of being cancer free.

Then it returned. She was 21.

This time it hit her harder. Some lumps were found in her feet and around her neck. She went back to treatments and lost all the hair she had just grown back. This lasted for about another year.

At this point, I had already met the man I was going to marry and later divorce. I remember when she first met him she asked him a million questions and he hated that. He didn’t like having questions asked of himself. But that is who she was. She wanted to know who her friend was dating. It was a gesture of concern that any good friend would do.

She was back in her home town, Pasadena, CA and rooming with another friend of ours. She smoked a lot of Marijuana to help her relax as she was just ending another round of treatments. Of course, I engaged in that with her. But quickly realized pot wasn’t my thing. Blegh….

She had already graduated from college but she wanted to pursue photography as a hobby so she took some classes at Pasadena City College (yup, the same place that I was Homecoming Princess). During this time, I was preparing for my wedding and she wanted to take some photos of me. She was actually really good. I remember she took some still photos of a martini shaker and martini glass. She gave a print to me and signed it. That photo is still hanging in my dining room to this day with her signature.

She used the colleges’ photography studios to take my portraits.  What came from this photo session was probably the most fun I’ve ever had and some photos of myself that I still, to this day, deny its me. She really captured me wonderfully.

Here were the best photos of that session:

I still remember this one. Just after she clicked the photo, I started cracking up. I couldn't keep a straight face. I was nervous.

I still remember this one. Just after she clicked the photo, I started cracking up. I couldn’t keep a straight face. I was nervous.


I started laughing hysterically after this one to. It was HER idea to show, uh, more than I cared to.

That session was a riot! She was laughing a lot to only because I couldn’t keep a straight face to get any good photos. I had a pair of my glasses on so she wanted to use those as a prop. It was a lot of fun.  These photos were taking in 2001

Soon after these photos, I got married.  She had just turned 24 and I was about to turn 24. She had just finished her round of treatments and her hair was a cute little short cut. I remember I got her rhinestone hair clippies to wear.

Below is her and I at my Bachelorette night. She and two of our other friends took me to Saddle Ranch on Sunset Blvd. in West Hollywood, CA.


I rode the mechanical bull, got knocked off it, then drank a lot. Then they took me to a strip joint…needless to say, I got really drunk and passed out in a car, somewhere. That seems like a whole other lifetime ago.

I then got married and she worked for a little while but was always feeling so tired, listless. The below photo was taken at a 2002 New Year’s party. It was one of the last times she would live life normally.


In 2004, I had my son and she just happened to live right across the street from the hospital where I was at. She was one of the first people to visit me after I had given birth. At this point, she was starting to get dark spots all over her skin and her hair was not growing back as it used to. She never told me what the doctors really said was happening to her but her body was deteriorating. However, she always tried to function normally and refused to let any of us acknowledge that she needed help with things. 

Soon after that she moved out of her apartment that she was sharing with a roomate to move in with her parents in Pasadena. Of course, I wasn’t told why she did this but I knew it was so her parents could help her more. In the summer of 2005, her parents took her to the Caribbean and New York City, two places she has always wanted to go.

In September of 2005, her family threw her a 29th birthday party. Everyone she had ever known in the 29 years she was living, was there.  People came up from San Diego, even other countries like Ireland! (She travelled a lot during her college years and made friends in other countries). The aura of the party was always kept lively and fluffy, on the surface. But we all knew what each and every one of us was thinking.

She was dying.

At this party, there was one moment where she was to weak to get up from a soft chair she was sitting in. Some of us offered to help her up but, completely out of her character, she smacked their hands saying she didn’t need help. She didn’t say it loud or mean. She just really didn’t think she was dying. She probably couldn’t believe it.

Note:  The next part of this was VERY VERY hard for me to write. I believe it took me about two weeks to get my thoughts in order and get it all typed out. Many times, I had to just stop, the pain was more than I anticipated it to be.

The last time I was to “party” with my best friend was New Year’s 2006.


We were in Pasadena at a Steakhouse on Colorado Blvd. The group was our smaller, closer group of friends which included two other close girlfriends and their husbands, myself and her.

We ate and danced in the New Year. She was actually in really good spirits that night. She enjoyed her food and even danced a bit. But I’m sure she was forcing it.

Two weeks later, my mother called me at work.  It was Thursday, January 12, 2006.

“M. is in a coma”

I left work within seconds. I don’t even remember what excuse I gave my boss. I think it was that there was an emergency and I needed to go to the hospital.

I first went to my parents house and we all went together, my parents, my sister and my then 2 year old son. When we arrived, they only allowed a certain number of people in the room and no children so my father stayed outside with my 2 year old while my mother, sister and I went into her room. She was at the City of Hope.

She was hooked up to ever machinery imaginable. She was no longer really breathing on her own, the machines were doing it. Her skin was still so blotchy and full of dark spots. Her mother was there as well as her other family and friends of her mother’s and of our families.

I had been there for about an hour when I realized that my son had to get home. Since we all came in one car, my mother offered to take him home with my sister and father and my father would say home with him and my sister and mother would return to the hospital.

About 20 minutes after they left, we were all standing around her bed. Her aunt was rubbing her feet and had just put Phantom of the Opera (her favorite) in her ears with ear buds.

I can still see her breathing…very shallow, up and down, up and down…then. Nothing.

No movement at all. At this point, a lot happened all at once and all within 1-2 minutes.

Her aunt who was rubbing her feet said “she stopped breathing!” 

Then her father started yelling her name before crumpling onto the floor like a pile of clothes.

Her mother, at her bedside, was crying, more like screaming. I had known this woman for 29 years and had never seen her cry, ever.

I’m sure others in the room were crying but I only remember her father and mother.

I grabbed her mother’s hand with one hand, then grabbed my best friend’s cold hand in the other. I noticed something amazing happen to her body within these few seconds.

When I first saw her lying there, her skin was covered in blotches and dark spot.


However, the moment she stopped breathing, I knew her soul had left her body because her skin instantaneously cleared up from the dark spots. It was like something you would see in a movie, some sort of CGI effect. Her skin just became clear and was like porclein.

It was the most amazing thing I’ve never seen in my life. Like magic. Like her body had become just a shell as her soul was lifted away.

I called my mother who was actually on the way back to the hospital with my sister and told her “she’s gone”…..

Everything I’ve stated here was absolutely true, there was no fabrications for drama effect. I experienced this.

At the age of 29, my best friend lost her 11 year battle to cancer.

That’s what I say!


I remember after her brother came in and he was in shock, absolutely speechless, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore and left with my mother and sister.

I got home and I believe I just passed out.

The next day was a Friday. I had planned a Disneyland visit (I had been taking The Boy to Disneyland since he was 10 months old and Fridays were my days off from work which was when I went).

I decided that I would go ahead and go. Below is a photo that was taken the day after my best friend died.

It is with Eeyore, both her favorite character and mine.


The smile was very forced but I was still happy to be hugging something that she liked.

I spoke at her funeral. The church was filled with over 250 people. She touched many lives.

I know the preceding was extremly long and I thank you for taking the time to read it. This was yet another major part of who I am today. I miss her tremndously and know that my life would be so different if she was still walking it with me.

However, she was the sweetest and kindess person I had ever known. The only place left for her was with God.

If one doesn’t respond to a text within minutes…they must be dead.

Yesterday, I kept The Boy home because he had a nasty little cough. I stayed home from work with him. We watched some TV in the morning then migrated to my bed to watch Adventure Time on the computer and take a little nap just before lunch. I love Adventure Time. It’s super cute.

Sick Child = 800px-Adventure_Time_-_Title_card

The whole time, my cell phone was on silent. I usually don’t have it on silent when I’m not at work but I had neglected to switch it off silent when I got home the night before.

Now, there are days when I can have no communication, text or email, with either my mother or sister. Of course, this was not one of those days.

Remember, my phone is on silent and I never answer my land line especially during the day because it’s always some sales person trying to sell me a subscription to the local newspaper, a bill collector collecting a debt from someone who isn’t even me or the wrong number. I just have that land line for 911 emergencies.

I noticed around 4pm the land line had been ringing a lot and I figure this is how much it rings during the day. I’m not home during the week days so how would I know? I wouldn’t be surprised if that was so. By this time, we had migrated  to the front room to watch Call of the Wildman on Animal Planet. It was a 3 hour marathon of that show. (pretty good show by the way).

Anyway, around this time, 4pm, I decide to get my quiet, silenced cell phone off my end table in my room and look at it.

The missed calls, voicemails and texts were innumerable.


Ok, maybe not 10 but you get the point…

They are all from my mother, with one from my sister. The first text was a random text from my mother about a $50 gas card she had given me on Saturday. She was just asking if I had used it yet.  When I didn’t respond immediately, she texted again and again “where are you?” and “hello?”

It was then I noticed emails, voicemails and missed calls.

I pick up the phone and called her and she starts bawling almost immediately! She said she got scared when I didn’t text her back right away.  She called my WORK line (well good thing I wasn’t playing hookie or anything! I actually did call in to say I would be caring for The Boy and wouldn’t be in to work).

She said she called my son’s day care, who told her that he didn’t show up to school.  But unfortunately, the day care also failed to mention that I had called the school at 8 that morning to say he was going to be out sick. This fueled the fire even more.

At this point, she thought we were dead….

I do not make any of this stuff up. She really thought we were dead.

I don’t know what to think of this. At first, I was annoyed. I mean, seriously, I don’t respond RIGHT AWAY and that means it’s time to send out the National Guard. She admitted that the next call she was going to make was to hospitals because to her, we must have been dead. But my sister talked her out of it. Even my sister was a bit tiffed about this over- dramatic episode. She was at work and when stuff like this happens, my mother tends to do everything short of walking into our offices and getting in our faces. Hence, just short of getting us fired.

These texts, voicemails and emails were all within the time frame of 1 hour.

However, I will admit that I did feel very bad. I mean in my mother’s little world, she really thought her daughter and her grandson were dead. No joke. I apologized profusely because I’m not mean and I would never have purposely wanted her to think that we were dead…

But seriously, am I being strange in thinking this kind of paranoia is just bizarre?

Am I rude in thinking that just because I don’t respond to a text within minutes, it’s a bit over dramatic to think I’m DEAD?

She said “usually if you don’t go to work you text us saying you are staying home”……Uh..no I don’t. Because last time I checked, I was a 36 year old adult and didn’t need to check in with mommy and daddy that I would be sick from work.

It’s like Drama is a genetic part of this family’s DNA…..


Its exhausting….

There are Clowns and then.there.are. CLOWNS….

So I was busy today looking around in Le Clown’s blog.  I hope I can reference you Le Clown.  It is with awe that I do so.

I was apprehensive and a bit afraid because clowns do not appeal to me at all. However, he seems really nice and has created a great community of Clowninators.

This topic of clowns got me to thinking. I remember finding an old photo of myself, when I was just a wee babe and next to me is, a clown.

Below is that photo….


Ah look! Its a scary 70’s clown AND an actual 70’s photo with no Instagram enhancements!

And yes, that is me 36 years ago. Wasn’t I cute?!?!

But the reason for finding this little gem of my history was to do this comparison….

See photo above, taken circa 1977?

Now look at photo of scary Poltergeist Clown, movie from 1982.



Worst Toy Ever, turns Evil!!! Poor kid.

I will give my parents the benefit of the doubt.  Baby Me holding that Clown doll was taken in 1977. The Poltergeist movie didn’t come out until 1982.


The Day I Almost Died

In the course of my life, I have had 4 surgeries. Hospital visits are not uncommon to me.

This story, is about the one hospital visit, where I almost left the hospital to go straight to the morgue.

I was 6 years old and it was 1983. Yes, that is young but a lot of this I do remember. Some of the holes were filled in by my parents but it all fell into place with the memories I do have.

My parents, my 1-year-old sister and I were on one of those Cult Religion trips that we took every year, in September. This particular year my parents chose Tuscon, Arizona to spend the week.  So, we drove from Los Angeles, California to Tuscon, Arizona. This is approximately an 8 hour drive.


We had just started the trip and stopped at a hotel. The following is from my memory:

I was taking a shower. I’m still shocked my parents allowed me to shower with no supervision. Or maybe I was independent like that, I would believe it.  I dropped the soap. I see it on the floor of the shower. I was a kid, I was probably fooling around and I stepped on the soap which slipped from under my foot and sent me flying towards the edge of the tub. The edge of the tub meets my abdomen right on the lower right section.

I get up, I’m screaming and I walk out of the bathroom to meet my startled parents. I don’t remember much after that but from what my mother tells me, to her it seemed like I just had the wind knocked out of me. I was fine after a few minutes.

This scenario above will play a big role in what is to come.

We spent the whole week in Tucson with no problems. I remember going out to eat with my family and their friends. I remember staying in a nice bungalow type room for the week. I even remember playing in the stone lined pool.  All was as it should be.

It wasn’t until the day before we were supposed to leave did the vomiting start. My mother told me at first she thought I got food poisoning. I always had stomach and/or digestive problems when I was younger so my mother was used to me having slight tummy aches and constipation. But this was something different.

We finally went to our last church service of the week (there were church services every morning for two hours every day of that week).  We decided to have lunch at a cafeteria type place. I remember it was similar to a Hometown Buffet or Souplantation.

I didn’t eat a thing. My stomach was in full panic mode. At this point, my mother still believed it was some sort of stomach bug. I vomited half way through lunch and my mother rushed me to the bathroom. I still remember this bathroom. It was painted a yellowish-green. I remember a woman telling my mother to put a cold paper towel on my head.

I was still able to manage a smile for one family photo outside the restaurant although just minutes before I had vomited up all my insides.

I actually don’t remember if we started our 8 hour road trip back to California after lunch, later that day or the next day. But it was on this return trip back to California when the horror happened.

This is what I remember.

I was in the back seat, on the passenger side. My baby sister was in a car seat on the driver side. We were in a rental car, I think.

My stomach was on fire. Right now, typing out this memory makes me want to cry because even 30 years later I still remember that pain.

It happened while we were in the middle of the 8 hour road trip and right in the middle of the strip of nothing (as I call it) that is in between Arizona and California.

My appendix exploded.


The road we were on when it burst pretty much looked like this, for miles.

Now, I was writhing around crying before it burst but the pain of when it actually happened was more than I care to remember. The pain was indescribable. I’ve given birth to a child and that was painful. And remember, I do have a low tolerance for pain and maybe this experience was why I have a low tolerance for pain. I was only 6. Pain petrifies me to this day. But this pain was horrifying.

Back to the moment it burst, for I knew exactly when it did. Up until that moment, the pain was more a dull stomach ache but times 20. When it burst, it literally felt like someone had stuck a huge red hot poker into my lower right abdomen and then scrambled my insides around. Remember, I was 6…and still remember the pain. That is how bad it was and how much it impacted my memory banks.

I can see my parents, at the moment this happened. My father was driving, my mother was in the front passenger seat but facing me in the back seat, behind her. They both looked at each other and seemed to tell each other that they other knew what was happening. Since they were on that road you see pictured above, with nothing around, my father floored the gas. He drove about 90 mph. My mother said that she hoped a cop would have pulled them over because maybe they could have escorted them. But surprisingly, no cops were around. Luckily, the roads were empty and it was late at night. It would have been awful if they got in an accident trying to get me to a hospital and my family was killed. Blegh…

About 2 hours after the initial bursting of my internal organ, we arrived at Huntington Memorial Hospital in Pasadena CA. Ironically, this was the same hospital I gave birth to my son, 21 years later and was also the same hospital that I had another organ removed, my gall bladder, a year after giving birth to my son.

It is necessary to note that somewhere in those 2 hours after the appendix burst, the pain had stopped, completely. Very strange.


When my father pulled up to the ER of the hospital my mother ran inside to inform them what was going on and a nurse came out with a wheelchair.

Being that I wasn’t in pain, I remember sitting in the back seat twiddling my thumbs as we pulled up to the ER. I can still see my thumbs moving between each other. And I was humming, like a bored child would. But my thumbs were the only things moving.

My father got out of the driver seat, went around to open my door and my mother went around the other side of the car to get my 1 year-old sister out of the car, who had apparently slept through this whole ordeal. As my father opened the door, out of habit I made the movements to jump out. Except that is not what happened.

My legs would not move, at all.  Ah, so that is why the pain stopped so abruptly.

I was temporarily paralyzed from my chest to my toes. What my parents were later told as to why I couldn’t walk was because I had been dormant for so long after the appendix burst and poison fluids had leaked out from the burst appendix.  This rendered my lower body numb. So even though I felt paralyzed as I couldn’t move my lower extremities, my body was just numb. As if it went to sleep. It was still shocking for my dad.

He scooped me up and by that time, a nurse with the wheelchair was behind him and I was placed there.

What happened next was probably the blurriest of these memories. I remember laying in a hospital ER bed, getting needles poked into me,  my blood being taken from all sides. I remember my mother’s face, crying.

I know that soon after that, I went into surgery and the burst appendix was removed and all the fluid cleaned up.


I remember, being in a nice big hospital room. There were many visitors, lots of my parents friends and friends of the family. My grandfather anointed me (as was the custom in our religion to do for the sick and ailing).

I was in the hospital for 3 weeks to recover. I was weak and it took me a while to be able to eat normally. I was only 6 so I didn’t weigh much but after those 3 weeks, I weighed close to nothing. I recall a photo I found many years ago of me, just after that ordeal, and I had just turned 7, and I was still so skinny. It was bizarre to see.

I know that during that time hospital stay my mother wrote down all her thoughts. I have seen some pieces of what she wrote as she wrote a lot of it on scrap paper she found, such as envelopes and napkins. I remember reading  “They just wheeled by baby into surgery…”.   I could not even imagine what horror she must have gone through. You know, my mother and I may not get along most of the time and we certainly don’t agree on much of anything, but I would never wish for any mother to go through this trauma. I felt for her.

This especially became apparent when, many years later. I got to experience this all through her eyes as she relayed the experience to me from her perspective.

She said that the doctors told her two things that astonished her.

1) They told her I should have died. When the appendix burst poisoned fluids were given at least 2 hours to float around inside me, which would have poisoned every organ it touched.  But to their astonishment, only about 10% of the poison escaped. What happened was that the fatty tissues of my belly (I was a little chubby), kept all the poison in one area, kind of making a bowl so that it would not to escape.

That was one time I was grateful for my fat.


2) They asked my mother this “Did she have any kind of fall or blunt trauma to the right area of her abdomen within the past week?”

Scroll up…….

A simple bar of soap could have ended my life.


Life is a crazy thing.

Another disturbing dream…

This one was VERY unnerving. thumb

I was me and I was younger, but not underage. I would say in my 20’s. I didn’t have a child in this dream or at least he never showed up.

I had found a great man and was introducing him to my family. However, he was moving to another state (reason unknown) and I wanted to follow.

I told this to my family (father, mother, sister). They went into a rage. The man I was with was shocked. I decided to leave with him anyway.

My father followed us and next scene in the dream, we are in a WalMart and my father is following me (the man I was with was no longer around) and demanding that I return. This father in my dream was the father I had in my past, not the one of today. My father of today is a quiet (and by quiet I mean he says NOTHING) man who sits in a corner and follows my mother around like a puppy. The father in my dream was my past father. Still quiet, yet when his authority was threatened he wouldn’t think twice about pushing his weight around, literally.

Back to the dream. So my father is following me around Walmart or some sort of department store, maybe JCPenney? And I’m refusing the return with him. Then my father’s nephew-in-law joined him in chasing me. He is a big man (but in real life the nicest man).

So they both continue their pursuit. It is then that my father pulls out some duct tape and claims he is going to end this by duct taping my mouth and arms and kidnapping me!

I find my car in the parking lot, which is the Nissan Murano I had 3 years ago and 3 cars ago. Then I’m suddenly looking for a random female with dark hair.

I was looking for her frantically as I was trying to get away from my father.

Then I’m on the passenger seat wondering why I can’t drive the car properly. The car is swerving everywhere.

Then the random dark haired female appears in the drivers seat and we switch seats…

Then I wake up…

I woke up very startled. A bit scared. Just unnerved.

I don’t like having dreams like that. Its enough that my family turns against me in real life but for them to go just the next step up to utter violence, is enough for me. Even if it is only in my dreams.

I hate that I can’t control my dreams. When I woke up from that one I was sad, scared and had to sit at the edge of my bed and tell myself I was awake.

I wonder if these work….


Why does asking for help always come with strings….

I had to do it. Because of my move, and needing to put down a deposit for the new apartment and so on, it is going to take me a while to get back on my feet. I’m not destitute, I am just depleting my savings account again and that irritates me.


The strings…are sometimes to much drama to bare…..

But I made the decision of asking my mother to pay for skating lessons for the month of May. This would be the first time I’ve asked for this. I try very hard to avoid asking for anything because each time I do, it comes back to haunt me.

Sometimes, asking for things doesn’t come with a price. Sometimes, the ravings in the form of “you aren’t getting The Boy what he needs” never happen. Then sometimes, they do. And they mostly occur, when she has helped me in some way. It’s like my outer shell has been removed and she can see the soft under belly of my vulnerablity and begins to stab at it with her “ha ha you can’t do it…” taunts.


The Boy starts his actual hockey lessons next week. He passed his beginning skating classes and I was told by the instructor he can move onto the Hockey 1 class.  I just need to get him a helmet. The instructor told me that a helmet is not required but that just for safety he can wear a bicycle helmet (which he does have). I do intend to get him an actual hockey helmet. It’s just that money is tight and I don’t get paid again until next Friday.

My mother flips out about my intention to wait a week or so for the helmet.

Her dramatics are really becoming unbearable. It’s hard to explain in typed out words but its her face. For instance, just because I was going to use a bike helmet for ONE lesson she gets this worried look on her face like I just told her I was feeding the kid JD in his milk! Like I just told her he is dying, or something like that. She really thinks it’s the end of the world.


It’s drama at its best. And it also tends to show its face way to much fo rme.

And the way she thinks that she is my child’s mother really just needs to stop. Although, this will never surprise me. I’m so easily overlooked by all my family, I really doubt they know I exist.

And of course, just the day before I asked my sister to take The Boy Friday night so I could just get some things done and go to my Doctor appointment without having to drag him along and I soon recanted that for fear of more vulnerability being shown on my part. I just hope that The Boy can be patient through the appointment and keep from being flappy gumbs and telling the whole family I’m going the medical route with weight loss, something they would probably not approve of and put me down for. I just don’t need to deal with that drama to.

So, I will now deplete my savings utterly and totally and just pay for the May lessons. The price of getting help is far worse than a $0 balance in my savings account, which is not to unfamiliar to me.


I can’t show weakness with them. I can’t show that I, as a human being, need a break.

Oh because, you know, my mother raised her children with no help and no breaks..right? Hmmm yeah…not exactly how I remembered it. I remember bouts of mental explosions, manipulations and a mother who seriously needed to be on medications.

I’m not saying I’m not susceptible to any of that but I darned sure try to be more in control of my out bursts than she ever was. I certainly don’t want my son remembering me as a mother who would yell, hit, act crazy and do crazy things. (I am not this way, but my mother, was a different story).

I also want The Boy to remember a mother who would tell him “I’m so very proud of you” on a regular basis. Because I certainly am and I told him just this last night, on the drive home from his practice.

I have yet to ever hear that from my own mother. Hugs and kisses and “I love you” is rare to non-existent.

Anyway, I’m rambling. The bottom line is…it is not life or death if the boy has a helmet at his practice next Tuesday as the instructor said it wasn’t necessary. But apparently, I’m the world’s worst mom (according to my own) if he doesn’t have one.

I’m really tired of dramatics…

My History: I grew up in a cult

Growing up, I was part of a church now known today, as a cult. (this is kinda long but really an interesting read)

This church was called The Worldwide Church of God (WCG).  They have since changed their name and have had many branch offs. It was established around the year 1930 by Herbert W. Armstrong

Note: If you have the time read the Wikipedia I linked. It gives the history of this cult and some of it is really jaw dropping. There is also more information at this site.)

My mother’s parents were in this religion. Her father was the head pastor for the Spanish speaking congregation in the Pasadena, CA headquarters. There were branches of this church all over the world.

Along with annual holy days that we were required to keep, for a week, in September of each year, we would keep the Feast of Tabernacles. This is where we would make a “pilgrimage” and visit another place.  There would be convention centers filled with thousands upon thousands of people each year, no matter where we went. So there were convention centers filled in major cities around the world.


The above photo is an example of a gathering at a Feast of Tabernacles, but in all honesty…this doesn’t even cover how big they could get. I would say about 15,000 people would congregate at one site. At the minimum, 15,000 people.

Because of these once a year travels, I did pull one of a few positive things that came from being in this cult. We travelled to many sites each year. I know now that must have been hard on my parents financially to plan a one, sometimes two, week trip every year for a family of 5 but they did it. We went to many different states and major cities all around this country. My most memorable were Hawaii, West Virginia and Arizona, amongst a few. I know when I was 6, we did go to Spain, but I don’t remember much of it.

Some years, we just stayed in the Pasadena area for the headquarters church services. It wasn’t until later in my life that I realized that when we didn’t travel and stayed in Pasadena, was when my parents didn’t have enough money to travel that year.

And he sure did…

My father was not raised in this religion but converted the day he met my mother. THAT is how much my father loved my mother.  This was something I both respected and yet, did not respect. He loved her enough to follow her into the dark hole of this cult, yet didn’t have enough self assurance of himself, his beliefs and uncertainty about all this, to not follow her and perhaps save her from this dark hole of a cult. It’s sad really.

Anyway, I was born into this church and from my first day of life until the church broke up in 1998/99, it is all I knew. They had youth activities such as camps, cheerleading, basketball etc. It was in these activities that I first learned I was fat, ugly and not-wanted. Later on, probably when I was 17, I did finally start to get some respect because I turned out to be the best volleyball player around. However, up until then, it was awful.

But again, there was another positive to all this. They had a Summer Education Program that I finally was able to go to when I was 16. It was at the Minnesota/Canada border near Minneapolis. I was able to go on a 3 day canoe trip where we basically canoed through the lakes of Minnesota and over into Canada. I banana rafted (which basically meant being  wrapped in yellow life jackets and going down the river rapids) and I cliff jumped and I remember it being fun. I also saw my first Moose and first mega wolf jumping spider thing that jumped from a cliff we were near, and straight at us. I just about jumped out of the canoe and into the water.


This is pretty much what I remember it looked like. There were some days where the water got really choppy and it was almost like being out on the ocean.

We slept in tents and made food on a little fire out in the woods. I went potty in a hole in the ground and covered it up with dirt. Blegh. I am not an outdoor type of person but still, it was an experience.

I also went to the elementary/Jr high school called Imperial Schools, located in Pasadena, CA. It was owned by WCG as well. It was a private school, cost a lot of money and was only open to children of members of WCG. The school has since been knocked down and replaced with high rise luxury apartments. In fact, I just drove by there a few weeks ago and saw the apartments.  It was bitter sweet. I had spent many years of my childhood in those school rooms, yet most of them were to be berated by bullies in the form of teachers.

At this school, I was subjected to humiliation (public swatting with HUGE paddles), racism and just plain ugliness. The swats I used to get just about every day.  I would say my worst memories were:

  1. Getting flunked in the 6th grade, that was mortifying
    • This was uncalled for as favorites and White kids were passed all the time with worse grades. Yes, they were VERY racist. When my mother went to the school many years before, they segregated the Black and Mexican kids to another dance, while the White kids had their own dance. Disgusting….
    • I was also humiliated by the teacher on the first day of my second time in 6th grade…just remembering it makes me want to cry.
  2. My second grade teacher (who was an old and bitter woman) liked to make me stand in front of the classroom and my classmates and humiliate me by accusing me of things that I didn’t do. And this was the year I almost died from a burst appendix. I was 6.
  3. Getting my hair pulled for stepping out of line.
  4. Being called racist Mexican names (Rosarita Fried Beans comes to mind) by teachers and staff as a joke.
  5. And of course the swats I’d get every day for just being a normal rambunctious little girl.

These were only skimming the surface of what I went through. My fourth grade teacher liked to humiliate me a lot to as did the fifth and sixth grade teachers to.

My poor parents feel so bad even to this day to have missed all of this because they really didn’t know a lot of it was going on as I didn’t really have very good communication with them. But I don’t hold it against them…I turned out ok.

My parents were semi-brain washed. I saw that first hand. Yet, my mother claims to have always felt like something just wasn’t right and wanted to speak out but the powers that be in this cult never allowed nay-sayers to speak their mind. Any one who spoke against the powers that be were instantly ex-communicated and publicly humiliated within the church.  Announcements were made over the pulpit on Saturday service that XYZ Family was ex-communicated and that no one was allowed to talk or associate with the person or family that was ex-communicated. My mother couldn’t chance that kind of humiliation on our family so, she kept her mouth shut.

See the brainwashing?

Anyway, I went to their college in Big Sandy, Texas in 1995-97, only for two years before I flunked out from drinking to much and not going to class. The school eventually closed down. It was a fairly small school and only those in this church were allowed to attend.

They also had VERY strict rules regarding God, and how to worship God. They frightened their believers into thinking that the end was coming. We would all escape to the land of Petra where God would only save those who followed this religion.  Armstrong (the founder) always stated over his pulpit in the large Auditorium (now owned by Maranatha High School and its affiliate church HRock Church) that still stands in Pasadena, CA, that this was the TRUE religion and God would only save those from this religion. Fear was a major element in this cult.


Armstrong died in 1988 and that was when a lot of things started to change and lots of people started to realize that this church was full of shit. This church did not celebrate Christmas, Easter or any of the other traditional holidays for it declared them pagan and a mockery to God.

When the church broke up around 1998, it split off into many different smaller churches. Some of them preached the same B.S. that Armstrong did which was later called false prophecy.  A lot of old members had nervous breakdowns and didn’t believe that Armstrong was a liar. Some even committed suicide. Many families were torn apart (my own included) and lives were forever changed.  My family was effected in that my aunts and grandfather would not speak to my mother for a long time. We have since all reconciled peacefully.

It is because of this “church” history, I have since been un-easy about organized religion.  Since then though, I’ve seen that Church/Religion are NOT the same as God. It is because of my history with this cult that I can now recognize when I’m getting smoke blown up the bum.

I will not tolerate those who a) push their “holyier than thou” religious agenda, b)claim to be a prophet of God or c) demand money in exchange to sit in their church.

I don’t believe that anyone should tell anyone else how to believe and worship God…it is a personal matter. It is also arrogant to think that anyone can be on the same level as God to be able to judge anyone else. Pure arrogance.

A little bio on the founder, Herbert W. Armstrong:


The founder, Herbert W. Armstrong, died in 1986. He wrote some kooky books on God and the end of days. His most famous was a book called, the The Mystery of the Ages.

I still remember alot of his preachings. They were filled with basically “everyone who does not embrace OUR religion and follow me is a heathen and will burn in the Lake of Fire.”

He did not allow holidays such as Christmas, Easter and of course Halloween to be celebrated cuz they didn’t believe in the “pagan” holidays. We also didn’t celebrate birthdays (no cakes, candles, nothing…it was something I missed a lot in my young years).  Also, the women in the church were not allowed to wear makeup.

The Ambassador Auditorium, still stands in Pasadena to this day and is being used by Maranatha Schools (link above).

This building is beautiful and I still remember the inside of it as we went to church there every Saturday. It had marble stair railings, 4 stories, gold lining on the outside next to the tall tall pillars. The carpets were a lustrious purple and the main chandelier was gargantuan. (See link to photos of it below).

It was spectacular and still is. We used to have spectacular concerts there. Also, on the campus site where this building was were some of Pasadena’s most historic homes and buildings.

The Ambassador Auditorium Campus (I will say, this place was truly magnificent)

Photo taken by Bobak Ha’Eri (from Wikipedia)

For photos of the inside of this magnificent building and all buildings around the campus I will direct you to this Flickr photostream I found.

Ambassador Auditorium (Photos by Mark Carroll)

As I stated above, there were a few things that came out of this that I see as positive

1) I was introduced to God, even if it was in an off-sided kind of way. But that allowed me to keep my belief in Him strong enough to move past the lies of this cult

2) I have traveled and seen lots of great things and places. These are experiences most kids don’t have, ever.

3) Having gone through what I have, it is easier for me to recognize religious lies, deceit and hypocrites easier.

I know this was all long but it is what made me who I am.

Thanks for reading!

I was surrounded by small people and furry animals

Well, actually only one of each in those categories.

I have been having trouble sleeping lately. I finally nodded off last night around 1:30 a.m. and for me…to get less than 8 hours of sleep a night pretty much sends me into the depths of an abyss of hell that no one ever wants to go to.


I was sleeping pretty hard after I did fall asleep. So hard that I did not notice that The Boy had climbed into my bed due to a bad dream. When I did realize that he was there, it was 30 minutes before my alarm was to go off.  I go to flip over and there is a small human there.

Hmmm…ok,” I tell myself. I will flip over to the other side….uh…nope. There is a small furry animal known as a CAT laying on my other side.


I was surrounded and having three bodies, feline or human, on my small full sized bed was not a combination made for being comfortable.

Luckily, I needed to get up anyway.   It didn’t matter that it was 30 minutes before my alarm was to go off. What is 30 minutes of more sleep….uh huh.

My Gaming History: It all started with a black and white computer screen….

The farthest back I can remember in my gaming memory was me, sitting in front of a Radio Shack computer circa 1985.

Remember the Floppy Disk? Yeah, we are going waaayyy back…

Well that is a blast from the past!

While my parents bowled in their bowling league, my best friends and I would be in the arcade of the bowling alley, playing Pacman and Gauntlet and DigDug.


“Valkyrie needs food badly!!!”

We would also play our Speak and Spells together. I would think that would be considered the first “hand helds”.

I remember my best friend got the Nintendo Entertainment System ROB.

R.O.B. (Robotic Operating Buddy)

I was so jealous of her. But I still had the best Strawberry Shortcake collection in town. So deep down in my little 9 year old heart…I won!

As a teenager, I really didn’t game to much. I was a teenage girl. I paid attention to boys and volleyball…..and boys. Not really in that order.

Somewhere in my teenage years though, I did get a  Nintendo Entertainment System

Nintendo Entertainment System

where I played the Classic Super Mario Bros.

Super Mario Bros.

And my ever favorite, The Legend of Zelda

The Legend of Zelda. I swear I burned every damn tree in that game to find secret passages.

I also played a bit of Mega Man

Mega Man

After that, I soon got a  Nintendo 64.

I thought I was the super shit by upgrading.


On the Nintendo 64, I played Super Mario 64 while listening to the Daft Punk: Homework Album

Super Mario 64

On N64 I also played my most favorite game of all time, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. This game is my all time super favorite ever.

I fell instantly in love with Link.


I fell in love with Link. I fell in love with the storyline and Epona, his horse. It was fantastic.

I didn’t fully pick up gaming again until I was about 21, after my college years. I didn’t game much in college because I was thinking to much about boys and booze and boys, probably in that order.  Yeah, I was that kind of college student.

It was then that I got a PS2 and Kingdom Hearts became my new favorite game. It was everything a combination of Disney and hot anime could bring!


Yes I had a secret crush on Axel…I’ll admit it.

Some of my favorite Worlds in Kingdom Hearts:

Alice in Wonderland, because Cheshire Cat is my favorite Alice in Wonderland character. (photo courtesy of IGN.com)

Halloweentown, because nothing like Jack Skellington fighting by your side. (photo courtesy of IGN.com)

There was one time, when I had two days off from work, a Tuesday and a Wednesday, and I spent ALL day in front of that game, only stopping to pee and grab food. It was fantastic. I was newly married at the time, no kid yet, not a care in the world. Just me and Sora.  My husband at the time wasn’t to fond of this two day gaming marathon. He pretty much treated it like I was cheating on him with a video game, which maybe I was? Meh…didn’t think so. I called it a hobby. Roles were apparently reversed in my marriage, which is why it probably ended so quickly after it started. I loved my gaming and he would tell me to shut it off. (I would like to point out that this 2 day marathon happened only this once. I have always gamed responsibly.)

Kingdom Hearts Goofy

To top it off, when I went to the Disneyland Halloween event in October of 2006, I dressed The Boy and I as Kingdom Hearts Characters. I was KH Goofy and The Boy was Sora. It was also fantastic. (how cool of a mom am I!?!)

Kingdom Hearts Sora

Kingdom Hearts Sora

I made both those costumes myself. I think that I did pretty good.

I bought myself the Guide Book to help me through it and I read that thing like the KH bible, on my lunch breaks at work and anytime I could.

KH Guide Book. It was about 240 pages.

I did play Kingdom Hearts II after that and thought it was just as good. The storyline was smooth and very creative and I loved how they incorporated just as many Disney characters as the first one, if not more!  From the Princesses to Dumbo to Winnie the Pooh and all across the board and in both games.

Kingdom Hearts II

My favorite parts of KH II…

Steamboat Willie Land: All the characters turned Black and White and Classic Mickey made an appearance. (Photo courtesy of IGN.com)

Nothing like Classic Donald and Classic Goofy (Photo courtesy of IGN.com)

Halloweentown, because, again nothing is better than Jack Skellington (Photo courtesy of IGN.com)

Tron Land was also a very close runner up as one of my favorite lands. It was the Tron from the 1980’s movie.

Nothing beats a video game Flynn (photo courtesy of IGN.com)

I also bought the Guidebook for KH II

KH II Guide Book. It was about 350 pages. Yeah, I read every single page and tagged places that were important with stickies.

Yeah…I took this shit seriously.

Moving forward, I got a DS Lite after that and played Kingdom Hearts:358/2 Days. This was a branch off of the initial storyline from the KH games. There were many other KH branch off games for other consoles that I never got to.

And it was this game that made me realize that if I ever wanted a sex fantasy to come true…it would definitely include Axel…

All levels of Anime hotness! And those weapons of his were pretty fun to play!

Ok, fangirl is put away now, she will not return, begging your pardon.

It was a tribute to these two games, Kingdom Hearts and Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, that I created this:

This was drawn by myself and I want to some day get this tattooed on my ankle. Some day….
What you see here is the Keyblade that Sora, from KH uses and the Triforce which was the symbol for Link from Legend of Zelda.

I also started up on my current 3DS, the The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D.  It was all that I loved about the original N64 Ocarina of Time but in 3D. I played that one and finished it within a few months.

After KH, I made the switch to Computer games and found the World of Warcraft. The obsession continued.

In October of 2006, Amorain, a human priest was born.

My baby Priest at her start in the Human starting zone.

Leveling her up…..

Amorain was a girl after my own heart. She loved her cats.

I had fun with captions….

Amorain today. She changed from Human to Blood Elf as I followed a guild to the dark side. I have regretted it to this day.

Amorain today. She changed from Human to Blood Elf as I followed a guild to the dark side. I have regretted it to this day.

About 4 months ago I got the Mist of Panderia expansion and played for three months. Since then, my time has lapsed and with my move and such, I’ve put my WoW playing to the side for now. I do plan on picking it back up again soon though. I do have other alts but Amorain is capped and a healer and that is really what I love to play.

I’m sad because back when I started this priest I was in an awesome guild that was progressing through The Burning Crusade but ended up breaking up. Many of the guild members tried other games and for a while I even got sucked into playing Rift, but didn’t like that game at all.

I didn’t play WoW for about 2 years at one point.

I also currently play Wizard 101, just for fun. I started a Wizard a while ago with The Boy and we played together but he lost interest. I continued and have been working, on and off, to get my Life wizard up to 90. I actually like it and find its a relaxing game, yet challenging.

My favorite Life spell, Gnomes!

My favorite Life spell, Gnomes!

I do own a Wii and on there I only do sports and exercise games. The Boy plays Super Mario but I do Just Dance.

Whew! And that is up to date!

Now let’s look at the stereotype of a “Gamer” and how I have broken it:

1) The Stereotype says this a “Gamer”:

From South Park of course!
Nope, nothing like me. I pay the bills, have a pretty good paying 8-5 job, tend to The Boy and keep my own house. And as far as I know, I don’t have a scruffy 5’oclock shadow and weigh 500 lbs.

2) The Stereotype says Gamer’s are not female: Uh..*looks down* yup..I’m female! So FALSE!

3) The Stereotype says Gamer’s live in their momma’s basement: Nope, not me..I have my own apartment and furnish it completely.

There are tons of other “Gamer” stereotypes but I pretty much break them all. Its my hobby. It is what I do. Some people do knitting or golf. I like to shoot spells from my hands and fry the enemies brains out!

And THAT is my gaming history.

My Back Story: The Marriage/Divorce

I have spent some time reading many different blogs and I have to say I really thought I was alone in all the feelings and emotions I’ve had as a divorcee and single mother for these past 9 years.


And that feels friggin’ fantastic.

But I do have my own individual story.  Please, take the time to walk down Memory Lane with me.

As Louis from Interview with a Vampire said:

“Shall we begin like David Copperfield? ‘I am born……I grew up.’ Or shall we begin when I was born to darkness, as I call it.”

Well I wasn’t born to darkness, I just liked the way Brad Pitt talked in that scene.

Anyway, I will begin at where the road started to where I am now. I believe God has His hands on all and I believe He looked away as I made the worst decision of my life when I was 22, to walk into that bar on Colorado Blvd, Pasadena, California.

I walked in and sat down at the bar, right next to a very good-looking, dark-haired scruffy bearded male. This man was NOT my type. I liked blondes. However, I still gave this man my number and well, what do you know, he called me.

A year and a half later, we were married.  Its appropriate to mention that at one time during that year and a half, I had a relationship “fork in the road” as I had the chance to choose one of two men: My ex, who I ended up marrying, or another man who was not as adventuresome but was a quiet and devoted man who really did love me…..

As the Grail Knight would say….indiana_jones_grail_knight-you-have-chosen-poorly

Yes, thank you Mr. Knight…much appreciated for pointing that out.

The preparations for the wedding were tormenting to say the least. My parents and sister disapproved of him, and rightly so.

Now, he never hit me or was violent during the 5 years of our relationship (which included a boyfriend/girlfriend status then marriage). He was just what you would call a plain old asshole. I know that is SUCH an ex-wife cliché thing to say but that really is what he was. Even his family thought so. I really do not believe he possessed one ounce of human decency or humanity in him.

To help paint this picture of his personality, I give you this scenario:

While you may feel sadness for the soldiers who die while serving their country (God Bless them) and the families and friends they leave behind, my ex would say “they knew what they were getting into when they signed up…to bad” (and that is actually word for word what he said on that subject one time). *cough* asshole *cough*

He also had a drinking and drug problem but as I think back, his assholery was the worst part of him, which says a lot about his assholery when compared to a drinking and drug problem. And yes, assholery is a word, look it up. You will see a picture of my ex-husband next to it.

But, despite the red BANNERS that were flying up, no they were careening across my face,  (yeah sure…I’ll spend the next 50 years of my life driving your drunk ass around), the wedding proceeded. I blame myself on this point, for being so stupid.

It ended up being a pretty decent wedding. My family probably just gave in to the fact that I was going to go through with this mistake and just decided to go with it. The cake was beautiful. My brides maids, who were my older half-sister, younger sister and best friend, were beautiful. It went great.

Note: On the bright side, I’m glad that my best friend was able to be in the wedding. She lost her battle with cancer 5 years after my wedding. We were 29 years old (her and I were the same age). When I told my Ex, who I had been divorced from already for about 2 years, he shrugged his shoulders. Again, not one ounce of human empathy.

Then the “marriage” started, and I began to realize, what a mistake I made. The man, seemed to loathe me. Now, I did not know this at that time, but looking back….the signs were everywhere. He had no respect for me in the marriage, didn’t allow me to go to classes at night to finish my AA degree. I had to switch my P.M. Watch Police Clerk job to day hours because he didn’t like coming home to an empty house (yet when I was there, he never acknowledged it). I secretly believed he despised that I liked my P.M. Police Clerk job and just didn’t like that. It was very strange. It was like he enjoyed having the extra money that being a part of a marriage brought in, but still wanted to do his own thing and not acknowledge that I was a part of this marriage team and must be considered part of it.

Also, the intimate part of the marriage, was null and void. On top of his apparent loathe for me, he never touched me and to get sex, I had to make him drunk and force myself. I will leave it at that as I would like to keep things PG but for me, as a woman, to not be wanted by your husband is pretty much murder to my already non-existent self esteem. It beat it down into its grave and then peed on it.

Then there was the alcohol and drugs. Ok, I will admit, I participated in both. Hey, I was 24, had a great job, a husband. I really thought this was part of what it was all about. But I never went over board with it. In fact, I stopped participating  and then became not only something he loathed but was also the “ball and chain” wife.

He was also drunk all the time, a “functioning alcoholic” as I later came to find out was the term. He would drink all the time but sure get up and be ready for work the next day. The booze was worse than the drugs, so yay for him choosing the lesser of two evils, maybe.

Our first split up:

This happened just shy of 2 years into our marriage. I decided to leave. I confided in my parents (yes, that was held over my head many times since then of my failure to make a marriage work) and they moved me back into their house.

Then, this man, who was a drunk asshole changed into a sniveling heap.

The change was absolutely astonishing that even my parents were like, huh? He weeped to me on the phone how much he loved me how much he missed me. He weeped to me on the phone that he wanted his wife back. I was shell shocked.

He wrote a letter to my parents saying how much he loved their daughter and wanted me back. They were shell shocked.

It was at this time, during our 4 months separation, I met a lovely police officer at the police station in Los Angeles that I was working at and we hit it off well..but…once again, I failed myself and made, yet another wrong choice at the “relationship fork in the road”. I went back to the crying heap faster than pot heads attack Doritos.

indiana_jones_grail_knight-you-have-chosen-poorly again

Yes, Sir Knight….we get the point…thanks.

I then became pregnant:

So we are back together and we moved into an apartment in Glendale since we lost our other apartment during the separation. That was when, I got pregnant. Although to this day I don’t know how since our sex life was pretty much nothing. But it happened (and no I didn’t cheat…I am not like that, I even felt guilty about dating the cop because I wasn’t officially divorced).

Later, he told me that it was exactly 3 days after we got back together that he knew he shouldn’t have taken me back and he also told me that the crying and sniveling was an act (I am not making this up). He said that just before I got pregnant, he was going to dump my ass back to the curb. The deceit was never ending with this man.

So now I’m pregnant and he is staying with me out of sheer obligation The pregnancy was ok. We ended up renting out a condo from his friend and we got a decent baby room set up. We got two cats (which I lost during the divorce, he sold them for $50 to some vet he knew….we had bought those cats for about $700 together)….and my pregnancy went on without any real complications. I was taken off work at around 7 months because I was getting gall stones (painful) and they could do nothing about it until after the baby was born. So the last 3 months of my pregnancy were actually the most peaceful and calmest three months in my life. I would wake up, whenever and just piddle around with my cats, go shopping (because I was actually getting alot of disability money and an extra $1400 a month from Aflac) and eat. It was great.

The time came to give birth to his son. It was a nightmare.

The birth of my son:

First, he wouldn’t take me to the friggin hospital when the contractions began to make me go insane. Sure, I will admit to a low tolerance for pain, however, I knew enough to know that when the contractions got bad…I should have gone to the hospital. He said to wait and wait and wait and I got so scared that I grabbed the car keys and attempted to prepare to drive MYSELF to the dang hospital! He then took me.

I labored for 12 hours (but had been contracting for long before that). It hurt….

Honestly, I don’t remember much, it was a blur. I remember getting there, pain in the delivery room, then the doctor breaking my water, then more pain, then doctor saying the kid’s head was stuck in my pelvic bone and C-section was necessary. Then the epidural….then painless heaven which included watching Wheel of Fortune while waiting to get wheeled into the operating room.

The baby is born, I get put into the observation room, I hear that my blood pressure is dropping….I pass out.

Next thing I remember, I am in the hospital recovery room and my son is put in my arms as the nurse is trying to teach me how to breastfeed and all I want to do is sleep.

Now, this is what my family told me what happened.

Just after the delivery, when I was in the recovery room with the baby in the incubator, my parents were not allowed into the room to see me or the baby because my husband wouldn’t allow it.

My ex said the nurse told him that no one was allowed.

I am in a state of delirium so I didn’t know what happened!

On this account, I blame both my family and my ex.

My family because they made ME feel guilty about not doing something about this because apparently, even though I had just given birth and I my blood pressure was dropping, I was still supposed to only make sure they had it their way. I honestly didn’t know what was going on.

My ex, because he could have allowed them in, but then again, I really don’t know if he was being stopped by the nurse on that count.

Moving on, the next day my family came to visit and I was more lucid yet I wondered why they were being so mean, to me, my ex and his family. I did find out later all that happened but will never forgive them for making it more difficult than it already was.  But that is who my family is……Drama Royalty.

The Official Divorce:

For a month, I took care of The Boy and loved every minute of it. But I believe I was either suffering from postpartum or something because I just decided to leave my husband. I remember feeling scared. I was scared that I have this child now and it wasn’t just me dealing with his heartless inhumanity but my boy. I had to protect him.

I left 2 months after my son was born. Our divorce was finalized 1 year after that. I was then living with my family. This was in 2004. There were a couple of times he took me back to court after it was finalized to change the orders. More specifically, he took me back one time to request he stop having to pay child support. The judge laughed in his face

Since then, I had to deal with the other issue of mine, my family. My mother in particular. We have never gotten along and her dramatics I just couldn’t take sometimes, especially being back in their house.

However, I made it to today, where for the past 2 years I’ve had my own apartment, been able to take care of myself and The Boy and enjoy adventures together.

Every now and then, my Ex needs information for his medical insurance that he has on The Boy (Insurance coverage is court ordered as well as the child support. He works for L.A. and gets paid pretty decently) and he contacts me.  However, the last interaction I had with him. he needed to know his son’s birth date. He didn’t even know his own son’s birthday. Well that could be because he hasn’t seen his son in 8 years. He’s never sent his son a birthday or Christmas card. I once tried to send my ex and ex-in laws photos, they were returned with a phone call from my ex, to quit harassing them. Although I never understood how sending photos of their grand child who carries his father’s name, was harassment but…whatever.

At one time, I hated that man. I hated him more than I hated any thing on this earth. I do not hate him anymore and I haven’t for a long time. I feel sorry for him. Because my ex gets to miss out on his son learning to skate and playing hockey. He gets to miss out on school open houses and the quirky things he says. He gets to miss out on his mess of long hair and that wonderful smile that can be accompanied by the most jovial laugh. I feel sad for my ex who didn’t want to be a part of a wonderful child’s life.

The Boy is adventuresome and sensitive. He is kind and very smart. He is actually more like me in personality (but that includes the Drama genes, something I resist in myself). But, only physically, is he the image of his father.

Since then, I have only been on one date. I did not follow through.  I really lost trust in not only men but people and most of all, I lost trust in my judgement of character. The combination of this lack of judgement in people and myself and a non-existent self-esteem created a cocktail of fear which lead to loneliness which leads to occasional depression, something I battle daily.

Being a mother has helped me focus on what is important and helps with that battle tremendously. Being a mother to The Boy is the one choice, where……I chose wisely….

“You have Chosen WISELY”

Ah Thank you Grail Knight…I can rest easy now…

Some history: My Relationship with My Mother

I will just say that my mother and I really just do not see eye to eye at all and we never have. She is NOT my best friend, as I have seen some women claim their own mothers are just that. If she was not family and the woman who gave me life, I would not associate with her. Her theories are so backwards it’s unbelievable. As I said in my Black Widow Dream entry, I am VERY careful with what I share with her because she is the type of person who will take a weakness about me and absolutely exploit it just to make herself feel powerful. The funny thing about this is, she only does this with me. To the outside public, she is a saint.

The History:

Her and I have bucked heads since the day I was born, when I actually almost killed her coming out of her. As morbid as that sounds, it is the truth. I mention this because, it is for that reason that I still honor and respect her because, she did birth me and she deserves that in the very least.

Also, it should be expressed that she lost her own mother at the age of 9 and had to raise her 3 younger siblings at that age, as a mother would. My grandmother died of Kidney failure at the age of 35. I am 36, I carry my Grandmother’s name and when I finally passed 35 I breathed a sign of relief because I to, have had Kidney problems in the past. I’m superstitious like that sometimes.

Moving on, growing up, it was quickly established who was the “man” in the house. My father gave up his “cahones” the minute he married her. She was very manipulative and would have bouts of absolute hysteria (now, looking back, I realize she was probably severely bipolar and a manic-depressive). I remember it, my sister, has blocked a lot of it out.  There are also other family issues that arose many times dealing with my mother’s father, who is now dead.

Side Note: I will never feel well speaking ill of the dead but this man, my mother’s father, well let’s just say I really do NOT think he is sitting at the right hand of God. He did horrible things to my family, my mother, sister, aunts and to his last breath he never asked for forgiveness. He died lonely with only my mother and his wife by his side, the only two women he apparently had a strong hold on. He had 7 children (one that is out there but never was brought into the family), none were there. He had numerous grandchildren, none were there. He even had numerous great-grandchildren, one of which is my son and none were there. I can assure you, it was not without good cause, that he died practically alone. At the funeral, as I looked around, the only people who really “mourned” him were those who didn’t know what kind of man he really was. I know I was just there to pay respect to a life, even if it wasn’t lived all that well but if he hadn’t lived, then neither would I be living.

Moving on, I know my mother suffered in her childhood and there isn’t a day that goes by where I hate that she suffered. Because of her suffering and the sins of her father and the unfortunate death of her own mother, my sister and I suffered. Tremendously. But a lot of who she is today isn’t her fault.

A lot of my mistakes in my choice of husband not only had to deal with low self esteem and thinking no one else would want me but it also included the fact that I wanted to get away from my manipulative and controlling mother.

I realized that I would never get away from her as long as I continued a relationship with her, no matter where I was in life.

Life in her house, after my divorce:

When I lived with her after my divorce and while my son was a baby, the manipulations were tremendous because now, she was using my son.

Oh and where is my father in all this….the man did whatever she wanted, followed whatever she did and if his daughters were hurting, crying, in pain because of his wife’s words, it didn’t matter. He was her puppy, not one ounce of backbone. But, just as I still respect my mother for giving me life, I do the same for my father because he worked hard to provide for his children and wife. I will always respect that and for teaching us to work and not wait for “hand outs”. He had his own family history to blame for it (another entry maybe?).

I was 28 and living in my parents’ house with a small baby. Not a good combination. It was their house, their rules so there was no way I was ever going to be a mother the way I wanted to be a mother.

I wanted to be a fun mother. Not the “I will be your best friend, son” type of mother because I don’t think a mother and child can be “best friends”. But they can be friends. I wanted to go on adventures. I got a Disneyland Annual Pass when my son was 10 months old and that was the first time he went to Disneyland. It ended up being a routine just about every Tuesday, my day off from work.

My mother, did not make life easy. She constantly put me down, which I should be used to by now because even to this day (more on that later) she still finds a way to put me down. She would tell me everything I’m doing wrong.

For example, I was giving my son soup for lunches and forgot to put the one can of water into the soup. She was determined to convince me that because I was not putting the one can water into the soup that The Boy was breaking out in a rash. I do not make this stuff up. She berated me for forgetting to put the water in the soup and there was my father, right behind her just nodding his head.

Thinking back on that now, it’s laughable because the me of today would have laughed in her face (as sometimes I do when she starts to come up with silly notions again). She would make sure one little mistake I made was blown up to the size of a mountain and that it was cause for The Boy’s demise.

I do recall one incident that showed me that some how, some way, I needed to Master the Jedi Art of Ignore when it came to my mother.

I had just lost my job. It was not a high point in my life. I fixed The Boy some waffles and eggs for breakfast. He was being fussy and didn’t want to eat and threw a fit. I put him in his room for a time out. My mother came into the kitchen screaming at me that I was a horrible mother, that I didn’t know how to do anything and couldn’t even keep a job…on and on.

What happened next, in my head was like something you would see in a movie. I could hear her voice screaming at me I could feel the angry and frustration building up and I could feel myself using all my power to push the anger down. It’s like her voice was in a distance and I was losing it.

What she did next was not unfamiliar to how she handled things. She took the plate that had hot eggs and waffles on it and threw it directly at me, spilling it all over me and the kitchen counter. (it was not uncommon for her, throughout my childhood and teen years, to grab the first closest thing she could and throw it at me. If she was close enough a good slap to my face was the next best thing. Although the last time she physically hit me was when she punched me in the stomach at a restaurant in Palm Springs back in the summer of 2007.)

So after the plate of food was thrown at me, this is what I recall happened next.

I rose my hand, half to block the egg that was being thrown at me and half to just throw my hands in the air in disgust at this woman.

She, in turn raised her arm and stepped back. At the time, I’m assuming she thought that with the raising of my arm, I was going to assault her.

She then stepped backwards and tripped over the counter stool and fell back, bruising her arms and leg.

That is what I saw…her story was different.

She said I pushed her, full force into the fireplace area causing her to fall.


She told my sister this, my sister comes home from work telling me off. She is crying and whoa is me and then my dad comes in telling me off.

I’m astonished how she has the power to make others see what is not there.

I am the bad guy in that scenario. I grabbed my kid, got in my car and spent the next 3 days after that in San Diego, where I took my kid to the Zoo for the first time.

When I returned, to keep peace, I apologized. But never, not once, did I receive an apology from her for actually assaulting me with a hot plate of food. However, as I mentioned before, it was not uncommon for her, in the past to throw the first thing she could grab and chuck it at me. Or if she was close enough, a slap to my face worked best for her.

It was then, I realized, this woman will do and say anything to make her look white as snow….I see the game being played now.

Moving on, in April of 2011, I moved out of their house and into my own apartment. It was tough and money was non-existent but it was my home. It was a smooth move with little drama because it was necessary to get my son into a good school district and at least we agreed on that. Where my parents live is not the best of school districts or cities for that matter and on that  subject, I put my foot down and said I will get The Boy into the best school district I can. And I did.

The Relationship I have with my Mother today:

For the past two years, being in my own home and out of hers was an interesting transition for our relationship. She still believed that she could come into MY home, as if it was her own, and belittle me, put me down and berate me. She could not. This was MY home, my money paid for this home, I pay the bills, I AM THE MOTHER HERE.


She did not like being out of the control box.

Even just as recently as last night the occasional belittling comes out. My parents finally came over to help with the last, oh, 5 boxes of my move (The Boy and I had already moved the bulk of 40+ boxes but hey, they came over for the last 5). She begins to put me down on why The Boy has allergies, why he was dirty (uh, we had just gotten home…showers hadn’t been taken yet), why his toe nails weren’t clipped.  *sigh*

I wanted to say, “none of your f-ing business…” but of course, could not. I bit my tongue. And when I say BIT MY TONGUE….I mean I literally bite my tongue. Sometimes to the point of bleeding.

She then walks around my home telling me how dirty everything is. Uh, we are moving…of course it’s a bit messy, believe me the mess drives me nuts. It’s just put down after put down. More tongue biting….

This was all last night. Granted, her visits are VERY far and few between because, well because I just can’t stomach her sometimes. So she rarely comes over. I usually go to her house or we all eat out at a restaurant. The latter is my favorite choice because in public, things stay neutral.

For the most part, I’ve learned to be more patient with her. She is getting older and more tired which is why her rants may be getting fewer. She does have a lot on her plate right now. She is taking care of her step-mother’s affairs such as bills and expenses. She has to deal with the dramas of her sisters and just recently one of her sisters died in a car crash.

She has to deal with my father’s failing memory. Although, I believe on that count she is becoming more and more impatient and the way she treats him sometimes is just downright rude. Last night, he was having trouble getting one word out (the speech has gotten worse over the past 6 months to the point where he can’t put 3 words together) and she hit his face. Now, not a full on slap but just tapped his cheek. I think she saw the look of horror on my face and explained that sometimes, if he can’t get the words out, she will tap his face. I ask if she does this in public and the disgust must have been visibly apparent on my face because she didn’t answer and just turned away.


To wrap this up, my mother is not my best friend. My best friend died of cancer in January of 2006.

As of right now, in this time and place in my life, my mother is a relationship I keep at arms length and am very wary about. I do not confide in her alot, if at all and I do not let her see that I can break down. She no longer sees me cry and I have mastered the ability to be able to walk away when she starts to pick a fight with me, something that continues to happen to this very day.

I love the woman, I always will. But let me picture it this way….

Our relationship is like Regina and Cora’s from Once Upon a Time. Regina loved her mother, Cora, but Cora was an evil witch who used magic to manipulate Regina. Yet, Regina ALWAYS returns to the mother who has betrayed her numerous times.

That is me. I will always have loyalties to my mother, she almost died giving birth to me. But will I ever respect her and confide in her…no. She never gave hugs. Not once, ever, has she said “I love you” but states that her actions show it. M…kay….

She is who she is because of her past and I am who I am because of her past. That is how it will go from here until one of us is no longer on this earth. And when that happens, we will both be at peace with each other.

I can only rely on myself

I had a conversation with my mother on Wednesday afternoon which concluded with her bringing my dad and their SUV to help me move some 50+ boxes.

I should have known better.

I texted her earlier today to bring water when she came by but low and behold….she forgot. No, she didn’t forget the water. She forgot entirely that she was supposed to come over. Oh but she sure didn’t forget to record The Walking Dead on her DVR for my sister. Sometimes being the non-favorite daughter is maddening.

So, not only did she forget about coming over to  help me today  but she forgot the whole conversation we had on Wednesday. She then proceeded to blamed me because I have a busy schedule.

This is why I never ask for help and blame myself for thinking I can.

So now I am staring at the realization that I have 50+ boxes to move with my little VW Jetta.

I actually just moved about 40 boxes with a dolly and trips back and forth between the apartments. (I’m only moving from one unit to another in the same apartment complex)

I need a drink….

I guess I should ask Eeyore to help me move. I would probably get a better response from him.

No wonder I trust no one on this planet. I can’t even trust my own family.

Time for the Disneyland fix

The Boy’s pass is blocked out on Saturdays from now until August. I only go Saturdays. I still think Disney should create a child’s Premium (no block out days) pass. So our visits are reduced to Friday evenings throughout the Summer.

So it’s a 3 hour evening visit to Disneyland tonight, just to squeeze it in and feel like I’m getting my money’s worth. Although, once I get there dinner will have to be eaten and of course, got to get The Boy his Mickey Shaped Cookie which always costs 50 times more than any other candy on the planet.  I’m just praying he doesn’t ask for a toy, which he probably will with his big puppy dog eyes and there I am buying him something. God, that kid has me wrapped around his finger, and I love it.

I’m thinking Fast Passes for Indiana Jones, a quick ride on The Haunted Mansion and then park hopping to DCA to stand in line for Soarin’ and maybe check out the DJ at Mad T Party.

Somewhere in there The Boy will either not want to wait in line because he is as impatient as the wind and even though he promised me that he will let me ride The Haunted Mansion, he will chicken out because he hates those popping heads in the graveyard.  And being that I hate realizing he is scared of a kiddie ride, I will not argue, out of sheer embarrassment.

Or maybe he will let me catch a glimpse of the Fantasy Faire, which he says he is steering clear from because, well its all Princesses all the time and my boy is all boy all the time. But hey, they do have Flynn Ryder appearing with Rapunzel and *this* female (points to myself) loves her some Flynn Ryder…yummm.

How about you leave that blondie behind you for a real woman? (no disrespect Rapunzel)
Photo from disneyparks.disney.go.com

Ok, back on track. How glad was I to see Iron Man Tech Exhibit was coming to Innovations in Tomorrowland at Disneyland starting April 13th?! Finally! Something for my MALE child at Disneyland that doesn’t include a frilly princess in a sparkly dress or a gaggle of Fairies in bright colors. Yes yes, I know that they have the Jedi Academy and I’ve tried to get The Boy out in there and get his Jedi certificate but he refuses to do it. I think he is secretly afraid of fighting Darth Vader at the end of the session. The Force is not strong with The Boy.

And somewhere in there during the evening trip tonight, I can get some night photos of the parks. I’m dying to get some more Disney photos.

Ontario Reign Fight for the Kelly Cup

I’m telling you, sometimes, I feel like the person I was 15 years ago is no where NEAR the same human I am now. The woman I was 15 years ago would NEVER have thought of ever going to a hockey game. Well look at me me now!

I was able to snag some tickets to attend Game 2 of the Fight for the Kelly Cup. Ontario Reign (that is Ontario, California, not Canada) vs. Utah Grizzlies. I’ve been going to Ontario Reign games since the season started in October. It was then that The Boy instantly fell in love and demanded skating/hockey lessons. Those lessons commenced very soon after our first game.

Note: The games I go to are ECHL not NHL. I haven’t been able to get to an NHL game yet. Maybe next year.

Tonight’s game was fun! Score was 7-2 Reign! I’ve been going to these games since last October and it is like a whole other world has opened up. I’m learning so much about the game. And of course, The Boy has just about perfecting his skating skills and will most likely be moving onto hockey lessons next month.

At tonight’s game, we has ice seats. No zoom needed for these photos! (Click photos to enlarge)

Click to Enlarge

Right in front of me

Plenty of Mascots were around. I’ve grown to love this Dragon. His name is Blaze and he sometimes enjoys my Duffy the Disney Bear for dinner!

Blaze thinks Duffy is a snack! Put the Bear down slowly….and no body gets hurt!

They like to come down and bang on the  glass

And shake hands with fans



Goalie action

Lots of contact

And there was definitely some fighting….

But in the end, Ontario Reign Wins!

Sure, we got home late and The Boy went to bed 1 1/2 hours past bed time but we had FUN! We always do! I will be sad to see the season end.

But thank you, Ontario Reign, for helping my son grow a love for hockey and feeding that love. I hope he gets to play on your team in 10 years!

Jesus has risen and blesses us with Cadbury Eggs

Jesus has risen! Praise God!

I do not say the above in mockery. I am a Christian and will remain such because I do believe in God’s Word, the Bible and that Jesus died for our sins (and whew are there alot….darn me being human).

I will teach my son this and when the time comes for him to choose…he will choose the life he wishes. I can only teach him right from wrong.

This thinking stems from a conversation I had with my aunt, whose son, is now her daughter. While she does not agree with pretty much anything he chose and making his life so much more harder AND shaking his fists at God, it is not her place, nor mine, nor anyone elses to judge my cousin. He is still her child, he is still my cousin, whether he’s male or female. However, when he is presented to the Lord, only He will have the true power to judge.

However, on the flip side, as much as Jesus and God forgives us for our sins, being that Jesus died, most painfully, on the Cross for our sins, John 8:11 says Jesus asked the prostitute

Who is around to condemn you?”

“No one, sir,” she said.

Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go and sin no more.”

He did not say “I do not condemn you. Now go and when you sin again return and we will repeat this scenario.”

Uh, no, not how it works. So when one repents of sin, they must not keep committing it. Now, we are human and it is VERY hard to be human and temptations are EVERYWHERE. Lord knows I have my temptations and yes, I do give in to them and I feel dirty afterwards but I try. So I know that I do falter to them but I try hard to get back up and not to “repeat the scenario”. The difference is, if one chooses to sin and blatantly just wave their hands “meh” to it…whoa be unto them. So says God, not me. I say sin as much as you like, I ain’t your mama!

I do notice a pattern when I falter to sin. Almost instantly, something goes wrong after I have fallen to temptation. Either something financially, or physically, but something suddenly go awry.

On the other side of the coin, when I stay on the path that is true, yet hard because of temptations, things seem to fall into place like a puzzle. No joke. Money suddenly appears and is stretched, little things go right. I’m absolutely not kidding about that. Money will stretch or appear out of no where in the form of, “oh look you get a bonus!” or “oh you paid to much on such and such, here is a refund” or “oh that certain thing that was needed didn’t cost as much as I thought it would”…

I tell the honest truth…

Regardless, God does look at the heart of a man. I try to do the right thing. I give where I can, don’t cheat the system. Yet, I try to be frugal and efficient. I teach my son to be good, kind and always have empathy for his fellow humans. I mostly teach him this because his father, had none of those qualities and I have been fighting the good fight of “Nature vs. Nurture” for 9 years and counting.

And lastly, the good “worldly” thing that comes out of Easter.