Tell Me

Has anyone else noticed that both Hallmark and Victoria's Secrets have a "Tell Me" campaign this season?

If communication is the basis of our society and culture as I learned this semester in class; then why is it so hard for us to communicate with one another?  We have all the tools of the trade, we have the ability and yet there are not one but two advertising campaigns begging for nothing more than for someone to tell us something.  Why is it that the people we claim to be the most important to us still have to ask for us to tell them?  

I admit I'm as guilty (if not more) as the next guy for not letting people know what I'm thinking or feeling, but it's something I'm working on.  I think I will make it one of my resolutions for this year.

I've been thinking...

Two older gentlemen (one white, one black) knocked on my door earlier this afternoon.  When I opened the door the black gentleman stepped up with a friendly grin and said "We've been talking to your neighbors and just wanted to ask (as he pulls a pamphlet out of the back of a "big thick black family type Bible") who do you think controls the world?" 

I smiled back, but instead of giving my usual "I'm not interested answer" (after all I was taught to respect my elders) I asked them where they stood on homosexuality or interracial relationships.  The white gentleman assured me that there wasn't an issue with people of different backgrounds getting to know each other but he was sure I would agree that homosexuality wasn't the same thing. 

...like I said I've been thinking.  Why is it ok for two strangers to knock on my door and try to make me feel like I'm the "bad guy" because I don't believe the same way they do?  And hear me when I say I'm not trying to stir the pot (nor am I disrespecting those who follow a religious doctrine).... remember when "they" said blacks and gays were out recruiting people to "their" way of life?  I've never had either group knock on my door and ask me to join their group.  It hit me that my religious "aversion" may not only be the 'higher power' concept but the exclusivity of the club itself.  

 This week of the year always reminds me of the early days of G.LA.S.S. at Catawba.  Those first couple of years we had no idea what we were doing.  A bunch of misfits looking for a place to belong, to fit in.... each one with their own reason for reaching out to everyone else.  Funny thing, I got involved only because I wanted to help a friend deal with his homosexuality and to my surprise I found myself as co-chair two years in a row.  Me; a straight black woman 10+ years older than everyone else in the group; co-chair of a gay acceptance student group?  How's that for total unconditional acceptance?  We didn't go around trying to get people to join our ranks, we just let everyone know we were around & if they wanted to hang out we'd be there for them. 

Why don't religions work that way?  Why does it feel like I need to change what I believe to be right & true in order to be able to join their group? And if they are 'right' why can't they wait for us to come to the same conclusion and come to them?  I'm just wondering...

Mom 11/18/40 - 11/2/98

Today is the last day I meet with my tutee “A” before she takes her citizenship exam.  She is the first person I’ve tutored since I became a volunteer for the Cabarrus Literacy Council and I have to admit I’m a little nervous for her.  She knows her stuff, but this is an important exam; probably the most important she’ll ever take. 

Before we started she asked me about my Halloween.  I side-stepped the question by just telling her it was quiet and asked her about hers.   She was very excited about passing out candy to the kids; it was the first time she participated fully in this particular American holiday; it’s quite different in her home country.

On Midnight of November 1st for the children and November 2^nd for the adults they gather up the favorite foods, flowers, drinks, etc. take them to the cemetery and leave them around the graves of their deceased family members.  They believe that the spirit of their family member comes to visit the grave, sees the goodies left for them & parties the night away.

So on the eve of the anniversary of Mom’s death I decided to borrow this tradition.  Since I don’t have a gravesite to visit, the World Wide Web will have to do.  Anyone that knew Mom would have no problem naming her favorite drink: coffee. Hot, cold, night or day she was always drinking coffee. I remember when the delivery giants first came up with the stuffed crust pizza Mom & I spent weeks discussing it; did they actually put the cheese in the entire crust or was it just the edge?  how do you put cheese in the crust without it exploding all over the place?  how do you hold the rest of the pizza after you’ve eaten the edge first? … After I couldn’t tell you how many commercials, we finally figured out if we ORDERED the pizza we’d know the answers to all those pressing questions.  Now Mom wasn’t really one for flowers (guess I came by that honestly); she always said that what was the point in spending all that money for something that you could only enjoy for a few days (balloons were a different story though – everyone loves balloons!); but interesting looking plants and/or plants with flowers were a different story.  According to the cute little plastic name tag stuck in the dirt of this strange looking plant it is a Kalanchoe.  I’ve managed to keep the Peace Lily G.L.A.S.S. gave me when she died; why not see if I can do the same for this little guy?

This is always a rough week for me.  It’s strange the things that seem to pop out of nowhere (like the stuffed crust pizza) and the others that seem like they happened yesterday…even after all these years.  It’s almost like my body knows the date before I even look at the calendar.  Funny how A’s cultural tradition makes me smile.

Dad Update #4658

The meeting with social worker Meghan was scheduled for 10:45 am Monday; didn’t get started until a little after 11 and was done about 11:30.  Needless to say both Dad and I felt it was a complete waste of time.  Granted we had no idea what to expect considering neither one of us have been in this position before (hey the last place just said you can go home on “X”) but we thought we might be able to get a couple of answers to those pesky questions (Why was he put on an antidepressant & how long is the recommendation?  Why now is someone “concerned” enough to Xray his neck? Results? What do you mean he needs a CT scan & why hasn’t that been done?); boy were we disappointed.

The social worker Meghan  just wasn’t ready for tag team Huntley.  I’m usually the one that’s over aggressive & insisting on having my concerns answered to my satisfaction, but Dad took the reins on this one & even surprised me.  He started out demanding to know when he was going to be “let out”.  Meghan and Hector (his physical therapist) both thought he was joking but soon figured out that he wasn’t.  Turns out that they won’t release him until they are sure he’ll be safe (understandably) and wanted to know how much of the list given to us during the home visit last month we had accomplished.  Well let’s see… without a release date we can’t set up home help nor can we get a ramp put up so, how about you give me something I can work with.  (No I didn’t say it but I sure as hell wanted to.)

Hector piped up and admitted that the only thing holding him back from being released earlier was that Dad has a problem going from sitting in the wheelchair (which everyone admits is too low for him) to a standing position.  Once he’s standing he’s fine; can walk 50-60 feet with his rollator (walker with the seat).  In other words he’s willing to sign off on him.  So Dad pipes up with “Why did they x-ray my neck?”  I nearly busted out laughing at all the blank faces around the conference table; no one seemed to know.  The day nurse opens up his 5 inch thick chart & reads the x-ray results noticeable changes in vertebral discs & admits that it didn’t make sense to her especially since they didn’t have anything to compare to.  *SIGH*

So after this meeting I dumped Dad off in his room & got to work.  I headed over to HomeInstead & signed him up.  They were very friendly and informative (brought up some things that I hadn’t thought of) and even suggested that they go over and talk to Dad.  That way he would have a veto option & wouldn’t feel like everyone was making decisions for him. Wow… that impressed me big time.  (Thanks Micki for the recommendation.)  While I was talking to Steve at Home Instead he suggested a company on Military Hwy (in the old Alpha Music building) that can do the ramp; off I went.

Not only were they willing to work with me (in the rain & on a holiday no doubt) they came out to the house did the measurements & gave us an estimate in about two hours.  (Dad said “Damn I should have let you and Sam do it.”)  Yeah, it’s not going to be cheap but at this point he doesn’t have much of a choice anymore; it’s got to be done. 

Dad’s release date is set for Monday.  I have mid-terms Wednesday & Thursday (including the 3 hour BIO on SCC campus that I’m freaking out about) and a research paper/speech to write for class Thursday night so it’s going to be another drive-by visit home.  But the good news is that he’s getting out of that blasted place.

9/26/2012 8:43 PM

I know it’s been while since I’ve updated to say things have been crazy would be an understatement.  Let’s see how much I can put out there tonight & maybe if I’m still dealing with a case of diarrhea of the fingers I’ll do some more later this week.

School:  Believe it or not I’ve kept my kaper chart schedule in tact for the most part.  The study group for BIO is on Wednesday nights at 7 for at least 30 minutes.  I can’t say that it’s very helpful because there are only two of us in it & to be honest this class is not the first priority for either one of us.  On the flip side being that there are only two of us in the group we can actually work together on when we want to meet or if something comes up we can text each other and reschedule (we only have to meet once a week for at least 30 minutes).

As for the rest of my classes, believe it or not I seem to be hanging in there – surprise surprise!  Yes, I’m honestly surprised.  Don’t get me wrong, I have to work my butt off in BIO (science just isn’t my thing) and Med Terminology (I’ve never been good at memorizing things for the sake of memorizing) but my grades aren’t all that bad.  I know where I’m going to not do so well & instead of spending all my time on that, I focus on the things that I know I do well or could do better if I spend a few more minutes working on.  For example the cell section in my BIO class was going to kick my ass no matter how much time I spent on it.  So instead I focused on the terminology and critical thinking portions of the exams and let the lecture part go.

I have to admit the core class (Health Data Systems and Standards) is my favorite.  There’s a ton more reading (I don’t think I’ve completed the entire reading for any module yet.) but it’s also more hands on.  I also believe that all the time I spent in IT at TLSP & Epixtar is helping out tremendously.  I don’t need to learn about databases and how they are created, maintained or secured; I did that for the past 10 years or so.  Same thing goes for learning what data is considered private and who can or can not request information; I got that.  J  It gives me time to work on the medical stuff that I don’t know…and for the most part that’s even kind of interesting.

The COM class for me is a waste of time.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m above this class or anything, I just wish I didn’t have to take it.  (I did graduate Catwaba College with an English degree afterall; I know how important communication is.)  Unfortunately I needed 12 hours for the WIA program and this was the only elective listed that I haven’t already taken in my zillions of years of college education. That only means that it should be an easy A (or at least a high B) and will bring up the GPA of the rest of the classes right?

Job:  There isn’t any good news on this front; in fact I’ve had nothing but bad news.  I’ve had 4 interviews (including one yesterday) since I started looking March 1^st.  I got my last unemployment payment Tuesday unless I get another miracle and it’s extended again (I’m not holding my breath that it will happen.).  The food stamps (all $16 a month) also expire at the end of October.  Monday I’m going back to DHSS in hopes that I will qualify for the Free Clinic so that I can see a doctor (I’m 6 months late for having the diabetes checked, 3 months late for the pap smear recheck and overdue for both the dentist and ophthalmologist.)  and while I’m there I’m going to see if I can have the food stamps extended.  Yes I know $16 isn’t a lot of money but it helps and right now I can use all the help I can get.

Dad:  Things have gone from bad to worse with him in some ways.  He was doing well enough with his physical and occupational therapy (for his right hand) that they scheduled a home visit the Tuesday after Memorial Day.  That’s when the therapists go with the patient and a family member back to the home & watch them maneuver around the house, doing their daily things & evaluate how well they do them.  It’s supposed to give them a goal of what therapy still needs to be accomplished before they’re released.  The visit didn’t go as well as either Dad or I had hoped; both of us had to realize that he may not be able to do some of the things he was able to do before the fall & he had to accept the fact that he’s going to need help in the house if he wants to continue living on his own (at least for the short term).  He seemed to be ok with that a lot easier than I thought he would be, but then again that fall really scared him (when he’s the one that suggested getting a medical alert system you know he was scared). 

Dad was probably a week out from being released when he picked up a nasty (as if there is any other kind) case of Clostridium difficile.  After having the symptoms for over a week they finally decided it might be a good idea to test him and figure out what was going on.  It took four days for the test to come back and 10 days of isolation and for the first round of antibiotics to go through.  The other day the facility called to tell me that he still isn’t well and they’ve ordered another 15 days of the antibiotic.  He’s also having an issue with his heart rate slowing and no one seems to know what the deal is with that.  Today when I called him he was complaining about his ankles being swollen (which were what started all of these hospital visits to begin with).  …oh and did I mention that the doctor came in to see him one day and decided that because he was holding his right hand he was depressed and put him on an antidepressant.  The doctor was supposed to call me almost two weeks ago, but she hasn’t… and of course Dad doesn’t want me to make a fuss.  Pretty soon though he’s going to have to let me do it – we’re not getting answers & I don’t like it.

Bill:  …yeah I’m still not sure what to say about this one.  He left me.  That sounds so strange to say, but I don’t know how else to put it.  I can’t say he broke up with me because to be honest with you he didn’t.

Ok so what happened?  I don’t really know.  Things were going good for us, we were better than we’d been in months; so I thought.  There were a few weeks of the summer left, Levi was with his mom & Bill & I were spending more time with each other – just doing normal stuff.  He got a full time job working as a lab facilitator in early college education in the high schools – a perfect job for him.  I could tell that he was freaking out a little about working full time for the first time in several years but I thought that was all that it was – evidently I was wrong.

He surprised me by coming over here the Friday before he started (Tuesday after Memorial Day); especially since we had plans to spend Sunday at his house watching the games (first week of the season).  Everything was fine until he got ready to leave and I could tell something was wrong; he wouldn’t look at me & he was fighting back tears.  I wouldn’t let him leave – something told me just don’t let him go until he talks to you.  He that he didn’t want me to panic but that he was worried about the job, that he knew things were going to be different, but things were going to be ok.  I kissed him and let him go. 

Had I known it was going to be the last time I’d see or talk to him, I would have never let him leave.

Our schedules got in the way and we didn’t really talk much that first week of his new job. … at least that’s what I thought was happening – 2 months later & I’m not so sure.  Long story short he stopped calling, answering emails, or texts, and blocked me from his Facebook.  Eventually I got an email saying that he & his ex had been talking and he was sure they were going to get back together.  …only to be followed by another email saying that he didn’t see a future with her or a future with me and that he needed more time.  Not a word since.

The silence is deafening.

As dramatic as this is going to sound it’s the way I feel.  He told me that dealing with his feelings for his ex was like learning to live as an amputee.  I told him that I felt like his amputated limb; cut off and tossed away.  I believe he loved me.  I believe we may have had a chance at something real and good.  What I don’t understand is how it can all end so suddenly; how he could do to me what he always told me he was afraid I would do to him.  What she did to him…. ironically what he’s done to me.

*sigh*… on that note I think this is as good as place as any to stop with the updates.  Assuming anyone is still reading, it’s past your bedtime.  Sweet dreams.

9/26/2012 11:07 PM

Kaper Chart

*Deep breath*

It's taken all day (who am I kidding I was up at 2 in the morning putting the bookcase together) but I think I've finally worked out a schedule for my classes that won't kill me (or at the very least will kill me slowly). Part of me knows I'm WAY over my head here (it's been 12 years since I took a full college load & then I had an awesome support system) but I also know this is pretty much my last chance at becoming a productive member of society again (unless I win the lottery & then all bets are off  :) ).

All the big "experts" say when you're making big changes you need to 'put it out there'.  The idea behind that is so that hopefully those close to you will keep you on track and support you as well as hold you accountable.  So here is my game plan for the fall semester:

• Sunday - Football
• Monday - COM 110 (Introduction to Communication)
• Tuesday - Look for a job
• Wednesday - HIT 114 (Health Data Systems and Standards)
• Thursday - tutoring, job searching & COM on campus class 
• Friday - BIO 165 (Anatomy & Physiology I)
• Saturday - MED 122 - Medical Terminology II

The idea is to spend the entire day doing the work for the week due that week, studying, catching up, yadda yadda yadda.  I've also had to sign up for a study group (hasn't met yet) that I need to add into the mix at some point. The online classes (HIT 114, BIO 165, and MED 122) have online exams that I will require I adjust my schedule a little bit.  Most of them are no more than 60 minutes long (and trust me that's not as long as you might think it would be) so that shouldn't be too much of a problem.

...and of course if I'm offered a job - this entire schedule could be (as Yosemite Sam used to say) blown to smithereens! (Job gods, don't let my work today stop you from making a reasonable offer.).

Dad's latest adventure

8/10/2012 9:09 PM

Last Friday Dad’s right knee “gave out” on him while he was reaching for his cell phone that he left on his bathroom’s windowsill.  His trusty walker “went out one way” and he went down to his knees landing hard on his right side.  There is still a discussion as to how long he was down; the medical staff at DePaul seems to think it could have been as long as 7 hours, he and his friend Pam don’t believe it was more than 2-3 hours.

Speaking of Pam, she was the one that found him.  Luckily for Dad, Friday was one of those night she “just stops by” as she put it to me today.  She came to the patio door, saw that his chair was up, but she didn’t see him.  She waited a few minutes thinking he was in the bathroom but when he didn’t come back in what she felt was a reasonable amount of time she started banging on the door and calling his name.  Eventually she heard him call help, forced the patio door open & called 911.

Doorway between the bathroom and bedroom where Dad fell.

Because of the way and where Dad landed (on his stomach) the EMTs basically had to drag him across both the bathroom and bedroom floors in order to get him up in a sitting position.  (They put a sheet under his hips and stomach and dragged him out of into the middle of bedroom floor.)  In the process the majority of the skin on the right side of his face, his left elbow and forearm have been scraped off.  From his shoulder to the top of his pants on his right side looks like it was used as Mike Tyson’s punching bag.  His right had has closed in on itself. The doctors agree it is nerve damage but they aren’t sure if it’s permanent or something they can work to get back.  …and all of this is a week after the fact!

Once he was freed from the fall (what else would you call it?) he asked to be taken to DePaul.  While there they found out he was dehydrated, anemic, had fluid in his lungs and around his heart, had a UTI, a kidney infection and his right knee is basically bone on bone.  They have mentioned surgery to repair (that doesn’t sound like the correct word to me) the issue with his heart and obviously having the knee replaced would correct that issue.  Unfortunately neither surgery is an option until they can work on rehabbing his right side enough to be able to function again.  There are also other health issues that have to be resolved before we can even consider either surgery. … in other words that’s WAY down the road.

DePaul transferred him to Envoy at Thorton Hall Thursday night for rehab.  It wasn’t 10 minutes after I got there that I got to see him stand on his own (granted he needed help getting out of the bed, but part of that I think was the bed too) and lower into a wheelchair.  They will have to work on his hand (dominate) and teach him how to walk without damaging the left leg any more and saving what is left of his right knee.

That’s where things stand now.  I’ll try to keep you posted as things change.  Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Question

I've been reading quite a few plus size blogs the last few years & I've come away with lots of great information.  There really is something to be said for finding a community of people that understand what you're dealing with - even if you've never met them before.

But here's the problem.  When it comes to being a plus-sized woman in today's society there are somethings that are universal.  While I love these bloggers & the extra boost they've given me to try things that I wouldn't have otherwise tried most of these women are from the big cities (NY, Chicago, San Fran, etc) and mid to late 20's.... I wonder if  anyone out there writing from the older woman's (40's) perspective?  Someone out there has to have a favorite blog they'd like to pass on, right?

The Wolf Gift Review

Not my favorite Anne Rice book, in fact truth be told I really didn't like it at all.  Maybe it's not fair, but I hold Rice to a higher standard than I do most of my other favorite authors, and this just wasn't up to snuff. As much as it pains me to say this story has such great potential for a new series from Rice but it comes across as very good first draft when compared to her previous catalog.

It lacked all the character development that makes Rice worth reading. She has a way of making you fall in love with her characters; regardless of their good or evil souls and that just didn’t happen this time.  Reuben comes across as flat and fumbling through life when he meets the mysterious and beautiful Marchent.  However once she is murdered in a bungled robbery (that never seems to make sense even though unfortunately is the genesis for the rest of the book) he goes back to being a rather flat and predictable character. There were characters that hardly deserved to be part of the story (Celeste/Mort, and even Laura) and others that I wish I’d gotten to know better (Reuben, Jim, Grace, Felix, Marchent and even Galton). 

The last several chapters felt like a rush job.  Reuben’s relationship with Laura ended up taking a back seat (and for the most part erased) to the introduction of five new characters that we never really got to know before the book ended.  Where Rice is usually so brilliant with discussing religion, philosophy and faith without it feeling like you’re sitting in an introduction to religion class she completely misses the mark this time.  Margon’s revelation of the origins of the “gift” offered no surprises or any explanations that the reader (and especially Laura) hadn’t already figured out. 

I had a hard time believing in Reuben as a main character.  I can’t count the number of times I had to go back and see how old he was supposed to be (23) because even before the “gift” he seemed to be at least 10 years older.  (What 23 year old has the means and understanding of computers and the 24 hr news cycles but isn’t connected to all social media?)  For me Jim and Grace (as well as their relationship with Reuben) were the most interesting characters (does Grace know? how does Jim handle not being able to say anything?) and yet those relationships are never explored. 

…and there were the “little” things that just bugged the hell out of me.  This story takes place in present times however Reuben works for a newspaper?  The ‘pack’ has an airstrip just above Fort Bragg even though the entire tail takes place in California?  Laura’s entrance and exit from the story.  If you blinked you may have missed Marchent’s family’s role in the history…. and I won’t even go into how the book ends.

All in all this will not be one of Rice’s books that I will be rereading.

I'm getting a kick out of the number of luke warm to cold reviews (& one that was just "shocked it was so dirty") for "Magic Mike" on my Facebook feed this morning. Most are complaining that it was too raunchy/sexual for them with too many unnecessary curse words (esp. the 'f' word) flying around.

I've seen so many (4) like this so far this morning (it's only 7:30 am) that I'm starting to wonder... Isn't "Magic Mike" the one about the male strippers? The same movie Joe Manganiello couldn't even say his character's name on Live with Kelly? ...and has an R rating? #justsaying

Being unemployed just sucks…

There’s really no other way to say it – it just f’n sucks!

Just before I was about to clock out for lunch on February 29^th, I was called to the office manager’s office.  This was not a normal request – in fact such a request had only been made one other time in the nine months I worked with the firm.  To say my departure was a surprise would be an understatement.  I was working on two projects, had another on my desk waiting for me to get to it and I was actually excited about the two guys that were starting that day in my department because I thought that finally meant things were going to calm down for me a bit so that I would be able to catch up with everything.

…she had to say it twice… we’re going to have to let you go... because I couldn’t believe it.  How in the world can she fire me – I didn’t even have the time to sit in the office right then and there; I was falling behind as it was!  (That would have gone over well I don’t have time for you to fire me right now, I have too much work to do!) But then it hit me; for the first time in my life I’d been fired.  Not only was I going to be escorted back to my desk to pack up all my belongings (“are you going to need more than one box?”) but the health insurance I’d finally qualified for (and desperately needed) and the paychecks I worked my arse off to get were all gone just that fast.

One hundred and eighteen days later & I’m starting to realize that compensation was not all I lost that day.  It’s almost cliché to say loosing that job (especially the way it happened) did something to my self-esteem in ways that I was not prepared for.  It’s bad enough that I don’t have a reason to set the alarm before I go to bed anymore but it’s something totally different when it’s because someone doesn’t think I copy, scan and file well enough to keep me on the payroll.  Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to put on a job application that you were fired from a job you only held nine months and the only thing you did those nine months was print out documents and put them in a three ring binder??  (Don’t worry, I have come up with a line worthy of our current presidential candidates: Changes in the firm required someone with a legal and engineering background in my position.)

Recently though I’ve started to realize the worse part about being unemployed is the loneliness; especially for someone like me who lives alone.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had someone ask me about my ‘bout of unemployment’ as if it was a medical issue that I was dealing with.  “How are you holding up?” they’ll whisper like the did in the days of black and white tvs as if I have ‘the cancer’ or something else equally dreadful.  I know they mean well (You’d think with the economy as sluggish as it has been for the past few years we as a society would be better at talking about this than we are.) but they don’t know what to say to me any more than I do when someone close to me has a death in their family.

…death… you know, come to think of it, that’s exactly what this feels like some days; a slow lingering, painful death.  There’s the normal stress of not being able to keep the lights on, the water running and/or a roof over your head (not to mention gas in the tank in case you get that rare interview or food in the fridge so you don’t pass out during that elusive interview) but no one talks about the loneliness of being unemployed.  

Even if you dislike everyone you work with and hate what you do 40+ hours a week, there is always some sort of face to face interaction with SOMEBODY.  That’s something you take for granted when you live alone and for all intents and purposes have no place to go for weeks on end.  No stopping for coffee on your way into work, chit chatting over the water cooler about the tv shows you watched the night before, going out to lunch with fellow cubemates complaining about the amount of work your manager expects you to do, and no one to call on the way home to see if you need to pick anything up for dinner.  Instead when you’re unemployed (especially for as long as I have been) you can stay in your pjs all day long while you spend 8 hours combing the job boards looking for any place to send your resume.  You spend the next 4 hours calling the utility companies begging for more time to catch up while hoping the cell phone company won’t cut you off mid-conversation.  Sometimes you have to remember to put a bra on before walking out to get the mail & other days you just don’t care. 

You may make the effort to keep in touch with friends the first few weeks of your “vacation” but after while you just don’t see the point.  It doesn’t take long to run out of ways to answer the “any leads yet” question and truth be told it’s pretty depressing to listen about all the fun adventures your friends are going on.  Sometimes your Facebook friends will forget that cable was one of the things you had to give up which means you’re constantly repeating why you aren’t following the new show that the whole world seems to be talking about.  Or one of your long distance friends will call to catch up & you’ll hear that uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone when you explain that you haven’t been to any of the festival concerts because you can’t afford the tickets anymore.

You know your friends mean well.  They want the best for you; they’re pulling for you and even sending as any opportunities your way they come across.  You can’t blame them for being insensitive to your moods because honestly you can't bring yourself to tell anyone how utterly hopeless you’re feeling.  Not only do you not want to whine and complain every time they do make the effort to call or send you an IM but damn it can’t they see how miserable and scared you are right now??  They tell you to hang in there, things will get better and assure you they are praying for you …but what you really want is for them to take you out to dinner.

Now that’s funny – but it’s so true.  Last week a friend treated me to lunch and a movie and treated me like a person and not someone that needed to be pitied or taken care of.  Not only did she get me out of the house for a few hours; she didn’t make me feel like a charity case. She let me keep my dignity while she picked up the tab for everything – including picking me up at my house so I didn’t have to use my gas.  For the first time in awhile I not only had something to look forward to, but I had a reason to put something on other than sweat pants and an oversized shirt (and the movie was GREAT!).  When I get out of this mess I’m in, I’m going to have to find a way to pay her kindness forward.

By the way, please don’t think I turn down the invites for all those street festival concerts or movies in the park, etc. because I don’t want to go – more often than not that’s anything but the case.  Keep in mind that just because the event is free it doesn’t always mean that attending won’t cost some money (that I just might not have at that time).  Again it’s the little things that you take for granted (can you bring your own drinks/food to the event?  what does it cost to park?  etc.) that I have to take into consideration.   Keep inviting me though – who knows I might be able to make it happen & I’d love to have someone else to talk to other than my dust bunnies and the spiders in the corner.

*Sigh*… Look, I meant what I said when I started this thing – being unemployed (when you don’t want to be) royally sucks.  I try to stay busy with volunteer work (Red Cross and Cabarrus County Literacy Council) but there are still days when (even if I stay in my pjs) it’s hard for me to come up with a good enough reason to pull myself out of bed.  In my head I know there are other people that are in worse shape than I am, that I need to keep plugging along as best as I can… but if you were to call me just at the right (or wrong) moment you’d be hard pressed to convince me of that.  There are some days when I have why me, I did everything right on a continual loop in my head & I can’t get past it.

…and if you happen to call/IM/Skype me on one of those days I wish you’d let me have those feelings.  Don’t make me feel guilty for being terrified of having to move back to VA to live with my Dad at the age of 43 (or worse – not even being able to AFFORD to run back home).  Give me 20 minutes to cry on your shoulder about how discouraged I am at that moment in time & I promise you I’ll change the subject back to you (if for no other reason but to get the spot light off me).

… if you can do that for me, I promise not to put up much of a fight when you offer to pay for a dinner once in awhile.  :)

My Summer to Do List

I used to look forward to summer vacation (back in the day when I didn’t have to worry about bills and the rest of those adult-type things).  The last few years have been… well let’s just say nothing to look forward to.  This year I wanted to make summer something to look forward to again – only I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about doing that.  I decided to do what I do best; make a list and cross things off as I accomplish them.  (Feel free to make suggestions – who knows, I might just embrace them.)  Starting June 20st (and by August 31st) I’m want to (check back often, I'm sure I'll add things as I think of them):

1. To Amber’s delight I’m going to start typing up my second book of collected quotes. 
2. Attempt to give up diet sodas (again). Down to one a week ...
3. Drink more water and green tea. Up to 72 oz/day
4. Get out of town (i.e. Charlotte area) at least 3 times.
5. Loose 5% of my current weight.
6. Go to the zoo.
7. See a fireworks display. July 4th in Waxhaw
8. Update blog at least once a week.
9. Figure out how to finish my HIT degree. I'm registered for classes in the fall; will keep you posted as to how I figure out how to pay for them.  :)
10. Start sending letters to the CA Wounded Warriors again.
11. Try at least 3 new foods.
12. Go to Daniel Stowe Botanical Garden.
13. See a couple of movies at the drive in.
14. Take more (and be in more) pictures. Definitely working on this one.  Bill took this picture of me yesterday; I had to resist the urge to run from.  ...hey it's a start isn't it?
    
15. Added: Learn (and do) Yoga

May 28, 2012 5:48pm

Today was my second opportunity to volunteer with the Red Cross at the Memorial Day Ceremony at the Salisbury VA.  For a few hours I passed out water, cupcakes, cookies & fruit while talking (i.e. listening) to vets from the Vietnam war --> Enduring Freedom; all in a different stage of "coming/being home" as more than one put it.   One particular gentleman was my 'tour guide' of the ways of this particular VA Hospital & the kind of people I would see as the morning progressed.

"Everyone's talking about the TBI guys" he says sadly, "but no one remembers us that over indulge".  We started walking over for yet another cup of coffee that I was sure he wasn't going to finish any more than his previous last three cups when he starts telling me this part of his story.  He spent some time "over there" doing what Uncle Sam told him to do unquestioningly; not because he felt a patriotic duty but because he was promised a better life when the job was completed.  I will never forget the way he said "things will be different".

However when he "came home" things weren't different - in fact they were worse.  His girl didn't wait for him like she promised (he didn't blame her), he had a hard time finding a job - not because he wasn't qualified or society wasn't bending over backwards to give a returning vet a chance, but because he didn't have a clue what he wanted to do.  His friends had gone on with their lives (again not bitter) and those that were still around seemed like they were doing the same childish things they were doing when he left - they just didn't have anything in common anymore.

As he's putting the sugar in his coffee he laughs.  Turns out the only thing that made him get up in the mornings then was that our society was so guilty about how we treated  returning vets in our past that "you folks are going overboard to make up for it".  For months he would go into a restaurant alone with his deployment jacket on and have his meal and bar tab picked up by other customers.  To hear him tell it, people were buying him drinks left and right - "and that's rough for someone that never touched the stuff UNTIL he came back".  He admits to taking advantage, even says he's not sorry about it - after all he couldn't afford those meals or top shelf alcohol in a month of Sundays.  "...besides I'm paying for it now don't you think?" and he takes a sip of coffee & winks at me.

Our conversation was interrupted by a HUGE rumble behind us. Motorcycles were slowly coming over the hill two by two around the patch of grass the spectators occupied.  The riders stopped to the left of the podium, dismounted and quietly walked the route they just rode through picking up an American flag on the way.  Half the group was from the Patriot Guard (http://www.patriotguard.org), the other half  was part of The Rolling Thunder. It's one thing to hear about them on the news; it's something totally different to SEE and HEAR them in person.  The crowd went totally silent once the first four rows of bikes rounded the corner & stayed that way until the last one accepted his flag and stood his post.

I turned around to my new friend and there were tears streaming down his face.  He pulls me into a bear hug, whispers in my ear "Now I'm home... thanks for listening."  and then disappeared into the crowd for the start of the ceremony.  I looked for him again after it was over, but I couldn't find him.

Learning to ride has always been on my bucket list.  After today I want to be part of the Patriot Guard and/or the Rolling Thunder.

5/11/2012 7:14 PM

Today turned out to be one of those “I want my Mommy” days that I haven’t had since I was maybe 6 years old (if even then) so I did what most people do these days; I posted a picture of us  when I was young (if 10 is still considered young) on my Facebook profile. 

Bill told me this morning (ironically through Facebook chat) that another woman asked him out and he wanted to know what to do about it.  Seriously, what am I supposed to say to that? The decision had already been made or he wouldn’t have said anything to me right?  I know how I feel about him/us – but as the song says I can’t make you love me.

That’s a bit harsh.  I do believe he loves me, I honestly do.  If I were to step back and look at this as if I didn’t have a stake in how things turned out, I would say it makes sense for him to go out with this woman.  Hell he was married for 25 years & we started going out barely six months after his divorce was final.  (Stop laughing at me – yes I know you’re not supposed to fall in love with someone in that situation…I know, I know, I know.  I’m getting what I deserve for being so stupid.)  We started going out in November (exclusive officially New Year’s Eve), why would he want to jump into another long term situation without dating several other people first?

Logically that all makes sense.  However it doesn’t stop me from feeling like I’m loosing my best friend all over again.

I keep wondering about something Penny told me when we first started going out “don’t give him enough rope to hang himself”.  Funny thing though, I was worried about his unresolved feelings regarding his ex-wife – not someone new.  I sure as hell didn’t see that coming. 

After talking to Bill, all I wanted to do was call Mom and ask her if it would be ok if I came home for the weekend (and if so would she make me lasagna and/or chicken salad).  I know I would spend the six hour drive listening to the RENT and Phantom of the Opera soundtracks singing at the top of my lungs and crying every minute.  Once I got there she’d never ask me why I wanted to come home, why I wanted her to make my favorite foods and she wouldn’t force me to talk to her.  By the time I was ready to come back home she would have given me advice on this unemployment thing and made me feel better about things with Bill even if I never opened my mouth.  

…and I would do all of that if she hadn’t died in ’98 from lung cancer.

Janie commented (very nicely I might add) on my picture “Even tho she is not physically with you, she is always looking down on you and so proud of all you have accomplished.”  I can’t help but think just the opposite.  Mom would have kicked me in the ass for the last two years, and there’s no way she would condone my spending the day in bed under the covers crying over “some man”.  (She was the one that always told me to keep a cast iron frying pan on my stove because no matter what bad situation you find yourself in with a guy ‘he has to go to sleep sometime’.)  Mom was Madea long before there was a Madea; I just didn’t know/appreciate it then. 

I don’t want that to sound more violent than it is.  As far as I know there was never any abuse in her history, but I do think she’d seen women being taken advantage of by the men that they loved.  Because of that I always had the ‘you don’t need a man to take care of you’ speech.  Part of that was she wanted to let me know how much harder it was going to be for me as a black woman (and I will always appreciate that lesson) and she didn’t want me to ‘fall into the stereotype’ of pushing out kids just to keep a man around (and that was the 80’s can you imagine what she’d say now?!?).

So where does that leave me right now?  Honestly I really don’t know.  There’s nothing I can do about Bill; he has to do what he has to do for him.  …and if I really love him like I say I do then I would want him to be happy even if it’s not with me.  That’s going to take some time – I’m no freaking saint.  I’m going to have a hard time seeing any Facebook status messages about how much fun he’s having with whomever he’s going out with.  Sigh…

…as for the job thing…I really don’t have a clue what to do about that anymore.  I called the Employment Security Commission today to get myself added onto the list for the free training they offer.  I’m going to have to fight my way into it because they don’t offer this to people that already have college degrees (and silly me has two).  I’m going to try though.  I want to finish the HIT program that I started at CPCC.  I know if I can get that done & pass the certification exam I would have no problem getting and keeping a job.  The only problem is that the next meeting is 5/21… I’m not sure I’m going to have a place to live then.

I’ve applied for over 105 jobs since March 1^st.  Yesterday I went to BP’s office and put in an application.  Today I even filled out apps for Pilot truck stops and Quick Trip gas station.  I know they are only part time jobs but I need something fast.  Hopefully if I can get some real income coming in, and I can get into the NC Stars program I’ll be able to finish the degree in a year?

I just need a break of some kind some how.  I promise not to squander it or take it for granted.  I don’t want a hand out, I’m willing to work for everything, I just need a chance to prove myself.

…ok so maybe Janie was right and Mom is looking out for me afterall.  Is it bad form to wish I had some of her chicken salad?

5/8/2012 9:26 PM

This has been a totally depressing day & my adopted state has made it that much worse.

The last two years have been absolutely horrible.  I totaled my ’99 Ranger; the truck I bought with the insurance money from Mom’s death.  I tell everyone that Blue (that was my truck’s name – yes I’m one of those crazy people than name their vehicles) gave his life for me.  I was t-boned in the intersection, did a 360 into a telephone pole a block and a half from home.  The driver’s side door wouldn’t open, the (newly filled) gas tank was leaking, and the bed of the truck had been turned into a “U” by the telephone pole.  Blue was dead, but I escaped by only being sore for about a week.

That September my company went belly up.  It wasn’t a surprise exactly; we’d been fighting it for years.  We had one last chance – a buyer but for some strange reason he backed out at the very last minute (seriously who backs out of a deal 6 hours before signing the papers?!?).  This was the first time I’d been unemployed since I delivered the morning newspaper as a kid. 

Since I had the time, I went home (to VA) to spend Thanksgiving with Dad.  …and staying over seven months to help him through hip replacement surgery.  The surgery was fine, the recovery nearly killed me.  The doctors didn’t believe him when he told them how much he drinks or how long he’s been drinking (at 70 he would be what most would call a functional alcoholic) and having to ok having him restrained while he went through the dts just about killed me.  The only thing that made it better is that he doesn’t remember a minute of it.  If there is a god, I thank him/her for that.

I came back home (NC) in early Spring & hit the job hunting hard and heavy.  Even still it took another four months before I found a job.  A great job, new field, new opportunities a new chance…

…that lasted nine months and I was blindsided again.  The office manager called me into her office (first time since I was given my 90 day review) and told that I was not catching on as expected and they were going to have to let me go.  Seriously?!?  All I’ve been asked to do is print, copy and scan – how can someone with two freaking degrees and 15 years of experience working in the IT department not know how to do those menial tasks to the satisfaction of a law firm? I guess I am still a little bitter about that.  I really liked that job.

It’s been almost three months and I’ve only had one interview (didn’t get the job because they hired from within).  Dad is helping out as much as he can; he’s taken over the payments of Blue’s replacement Judge.  I’m collecting unemployment but it’s not nearly enough to pay the bills let alone anything else.  Today the cable/internet was cut off.  I paid part of my rent with a promise to pay the rest in two weeks (it takes me three unemployment checks to make one rent payment) only to find out that the landlord is no longer accepting partial payments.  If the entire rent isn’t paid in full by the 10^th of the month they will file eviction notices.  I’ll be two months behind on the water bill by the 10^th, the cell phone as of the 18^th, and the power will be disconnected on my birthday (6/8) if I don’t make at least one payment before then.  The only bill I’m caught up on is the truck insurance – and that’s only because there is no grace period on that.

I’ve sent out 83 resumes since I was let go 2/29.  I’ve gotten quite a few nice “thanks but no thanks” responses but only that one nibble.  Believe me when I say I’m not being picky, I’m applying for anything and everything that suggests that it will pay my bills and give me health insurance.  I don’t care what the job is or where it is anymore.  I’m about to be 43 years old and I still can’t take care of myself.

…and then I look up and see the primary results.  Amendment One passes to a 60/40 vote.  How is that even possible?  Why do people insist on pressing their religious beliefs on everyone else?  What happened to separation of church and state or freedom of religion?  I wonder if my grandparents or even my parents felt this lost and helpless during the civil rights fights?

I’m not asking for much… can I just get a break?  A small break?  I’ll make it work, I promise – just give me a chance.

…what’s the point?

5/2/2012 6:06 PM

Bill has suggested a few times that I write something everyday.  I think he’s worried that I’m spending my unemployment time curled up on the couch cursing the world (ok maybe some days he’s more right than I’d like to admit) instead of busting my hump looking for another job.  He means well & I know he has my best interests at heart, but honestly I’m not really sure I have anything to say.

No, that’s not true; I have TONS of things to say, I just don’t think anyone wants to hear them.  The funny (ironic not ha ha) part about that is that I'd like to have a real conversation with someone again that wasn’t over the “interweb” thing.  That’s probably not a good thing right now however.  Since I live alone, I’d probably start talking and never shut up (just like your stay at home friends with young kids when they finally get a few hours alone with adults).

In some ways I completely miss my English & Philosophy classes because at least two times a week there were 10-15 people engaged in conversation (that admittedly sometimes turned into rather heated discussions) about the same subject.  One of my favorite professors would sometimes insist we put ourselves in the shoes of a (usually non main) character in order to look at how the story was put together from their point of view.  John Milton’s Paradise Lost was my favorite exercise because we were able to pick which character we wanted to investigate.  It was one of the hardest books to read/discuss because most of my classmates were strongly committed to their various religions (where I am not – committed or religious).  It probably didn’t help that I choose Lucifer as the character with which to relate.  I blame/credit Prof. White with the way I (try) to look at things.  I say blame because it’s also the reason no one wants to watch tv with me anymore.