Boo!

 

OK,  I have been seriously lax in my participation. I know, I deserve a “wall of shame” badge or some such identifier. Here’s the thing- you ready for it?  I’ve been busy. Like running away from the clock busy. While I do “lurk” off my phone,  I have some time today, so I thought I would post a bit about what I have been up to and a bunch of other nonsense. This one is going to be kind of long, so you may want to get a drink first.

Where to begin? Well, since I last posted, I  have successfully completed another semester of college and am in the midst of another.  In order to do so , there were more projects about my life. We all know how much I love those https://desperationchronicles.wordpress.com/2014/02/  I wish they would pick another topic, but oh well.

I finally paid off Fiona and the day later she went cablooey again. A month later she did it again. Then, again two weeks ago.  So I am looking at other options, but shopping for a car on a ridiculous budget is a akin to getting a tooth pulled. Despite all the insider knowledge I have from being in the industry,  it is still a dread worthy activity.

Most of my “free time”  has been dedicated to learning Photoshop, Illustrator and  Flash. Every day has been an adventure. However, I have to admit it has been tough to learn while you’re worried about work, bills and feeding “the kid”.  Quitting is not my style though and I press on. When I graduate, I plan on having the biggest party I can afford.

To that end, in an attempt to get a decent wage, my co-workers and I put together a proposal. See, the start of this was a few months ago while the owner was away, the girl in payroll “forgot” to include our bonus in our paychecks. While it may be a measly bonus, it is better than nothing. When I addressed the issue with her, she said that she could not get approval from the owner and we would have to wait till next pay period.  Nice huh?

So, my though process was, do away with the bonus. Just give us a reasonable hourly wage and call it a day.  Besides. while no one works for free, most people do their job because they are conscientious souls. Money is not the ultimate motivator. It has been proven that employees care less about money, and more about feeling valued by their employer.

It has become blatantly clear, our wage reflects how the owner feels about us. Other departments, get a straight respectable hourly wage, why not us? Well in the end, we lost. They simply changed our bonus structure so we do more work for less bonus. No respectable hourly wage, no sorry from the company for screwing up our bonuses. Nope. We will continue to be the working poor.

In the midst of this, I have developed what I thought were ulcers.  Well, OK I really cannot blame Adobe on that one. More like, crazy work stuff, kid stuff, and the general mayhem that follows poverty.   Turns out, while I may have ulcers too, the doctor thinks I  also have something called Diffuse Esophageal Spasm. Remember way back in October when I was in the hospital for the “heart attack” that they never found?  Yep spasm city.

These spasms are from the smooth muscle that helps food travel down your esophagus and into your stomach. If your brain sends a weird signal to the nerves that control the muscle, then – BAM!.  Having one of these attacks literally feels like you are going to die. First starts the cold sweating, the ungodly pain in the gut and chest, almost passing out and an overall feeling of doom. Then, an hour or so later, it’s as if nothing ever happened. As usual, I cannot afford to go get the scope done like I am supposed to or the other bar-i-yucky test for a definitive diagnosis. For right now, I have to just closely monitor my diet and try not to do anything to anger it.

Well, that is it about me for right now.

This being  Memorial Day, I want to say, a heartfelt thank you and a have a  moment of silence for those who have passed  on. Your ultimate sacrifice has kept our nation of  primarily ungrateful punks safe from international and domestic harm. Thank you.

 

 

 

 

**Oh and some people have asked me what the mystery box was from January. As it turns out I won a graphic tablet from school. Sadly, there was no winning of cash sweepstakes or inheritance, but it is still a fun a toy  and nice surprise.***

 

 

There’s something you don’t know…

 

I abhor talking about my life. “That can’t possibly be true, you blog.”. Yep, it is. Every once in a while, I am asked to talk about my life. In particular my “past” and I hate it.Why? Because I hate to lie.

In order to come up with a shiny, happy life story or even a near presentable one. I  have to fabricate EVERYTHING. Create new family members, delete people from the previous existence, erase the abuse and the tears. Erase the poverty, delete the doctors and tests, create fabulous vacations and imagined happy memories. Not that there is not any happy memories, it just that in order to explain my life and get to those, you have to get through the ugly.

For my multimedia class, I am being asked to create a presentation about my life from birth to present. I dont think they really want to see that. They want 8-10 specific dates of events, pictures, and stories. Shall I put my first restraining order? Or maybe the first day I had to apply for food stamps. Even better, how about  the day that I found out my baby was going to live after I was punched in the stomach while pregnant?

How about my illnesses, shall I share the date I woke up with the most ungodly pain in my head? Sept 2, 2007.  Maybe the date of my first MRI where they said that I have the brain damage of someone much older.  I could share anyone of my last five stays in the hospital. Despite all of this, I am overall a very happy person. I roll with it, and the one way I manage to do that is to move past it. Dredging up old memories, puts me in a foul mood. I don’t want to remember THAT part of my life. I want to remember the one that I have created, but when I leave out the truth, it feels like I am living a huge lie.

Sure, that abuse is a distance memory,but it comprises a lot of my past. Anything else I would say would be a lie. What irks me worse is that I feel like I have to lie to cover up what people did. Sure, I had my part to play in it, we all do, but why do I feel like the only guilty party?

I don’t want to share my story in this context. I want to put in a coffin and bury it six feet deep. Where would you put it?

New Year, New Mysteries

Monday night when I returned home from work there was a UPS notice on my door. They had attempted to deliver a package, but needed my signature to leave it. Not the “a signature is required” check box, but more like “we want your permission to leave it” kind of signature.  Normally a package wouldn’t be news, but I have not ordered from Amazon or the like in quite a while.  The only thing I could think of was that my job gave me a credit to use in their online store, which I used for a gift card. So the next day, I asked the lady that places the orders for the store if the card might be mailed to my home. She said no, everything ordered through the site gets delivered to work and then handed out. Hmmm, OK then who is this from?

So I decided to do some detective work and see where it originated. Turns out it was sent out of the terminal in Farmingdale, NY. I know no one there, nor do business with any company from that area. Also, its only two pounds which tells me that it must be an envelope and not a gift box of some sort.  Then I looked at the “redeliver date”. Well dont you know, UPS in its wisdom does not deliver on New Year’s Eve, so it will be re delivered until Thursday, and I am left here still wondering. I am not a fan of suspense.

Now, instead of making a jackass out of myself in public, I generally stay home on New Years. This year was no exception. Last night, before watching the ball drop on live stream,  I woofed down a half a cake and spent a few minutes online. It turned out to be an interesting few minutes. I was looking around at unique ways to make extra money and bumped into a blog on the subject. One of their suggestions was a website called http://www.missingmoney.com, where you can search your name and see if a business owes you a couple of bucks or something. Generally this happens when you shut down an account and the company couldn’t locate you to send the remaining funds. Considering my situation I doubt it, but having nothing more pressing to do, I entered my name in the text-boxes.

It returned a result!  Not just any result though….

Most of the time you would see something like the persons name, “ABC Corporation”, the company address and whether it was over or under $100.

Mine was different. It said my name(I am the only person in the US with my name. Yes, really!), then Yorktown, VA,  and an undisclosed property and amount. What is strange about this is that  while I have never lived there, I have an uncle in Yorktown. Due to family circumstances with my Mom, we haven’t spoken in years, but I know he lives there.  There is no way for a stranger to tie us online. For example, when you look up my name, only my Mom comes up as a relative. Also, I hadn’t been looking him up prior to the search, thus there would be no ability for the site to “pull” this information. While he is elderly, to my knowledge, he is still alive.  So, I sent an email to the treasury in the state of VA to see if they know of this and what it might be. To be continued…

PS. Happy New Year. Onward to new experiences and successes!

 

Christmas Carnage

I hope everyone had a nice holiday. Our holiday has been present-free, but interesting and fun.  Over the weekend we volunteered at Toys for Tots, it was fun and very hectic.See…

Today, we had a peaceful day of food and board games. I am please to say that I still hold the title as the most winning-est player in all of Monopoly land.

To me, a simple day is best and traditions are important. One of my favorites, is building gingerbread houses. We actually build a cookie house not only for Christmas, but Easter and Halloween as well. This year we decided to try the “Village” kit.  So last night we got to work on building the five mini houses. Here are the walls ready to put together. It also came with the bag of frosting and four bags of candy to decorate with.

Then we made it to the “bare bones stage”

While the icing was drying, I decided to make cookies of the yumtastic peppermint fudge variety.

Finally, we got to decorate the houses.

Here are the finished houses and surrounding mess.

Now I have to stop this right here, because there is something else you should know. There is another major component to the holiday cookie house tradition. It is the smashing! Eating dainty pieces off the houses is not allowed. To get a morsel you MUST wait for the smashing party on Christmas night. It is similar to the grande finale in a fireworks display. It signals the sweet end of the holiday.

What do you use to smash a gingerbread house? Well, for us, it is a choose your weapon time. Tonight’s weapons of choice were a large straight wrench and a socket wrench. I nixed a customary hammer on account that my kid is much stronger now and could potentially break the table.  OK so on with the smashing!

Here are the houses set up for smash time. They know not what awaits them.

On with the destruction..Oh no, one is still standing!

Not for long…

Well there you have it. Again I hope everyone had a terrific holiday. On to New Years we go…

P.S. If you’re wondering, the kit we used is from a Canadian company called “Create a Treat”. It was very easy to put together, not to mention fun and yummy! Mostly I try to build them from scratch because the taste isn’t there in the kits. However, this one was really good.Here is their website:  http://www.createatreat.com

 

Christmas Friends

Today started off pretty normal. Got up late and rushed around to get ready for work. As I was racing around my son said, “Hey look at this.”  It was an envelope. “It was on the truck, open it!”, my son said excitedly.  Inside the envelope was a Christmas card and a hand written note dated Dec 17th that read:

“To start with I dont know your name or your son’s. I am just looking for friendship that’s all. It’s about time we met, neighbors should always be friends. I hope I didn’t offend you. That’s not my intention. Gus #4”

How sweet and special is that?

See, Gus is an older(elderlyish) man that lives a few doors down. In the past year,I have seen him stand outside his apartment  for fresh air and then disappear back in by the time I turn around. I’ve never watched him drive in or out, have any guests or anything really.  How sad that so much drama has gone on and not allowing me to realize that a neighbor might be in need of a friend. I sent him back a card and intend on bringing him a plate of Christmas dinner.

On with the rest of the day..

So I am just about to finish up work and go to open my desk cabinet to retrieve my purse which contained the keys to my vehicle. It wont open. “Oh, no this cant be happening. How does a drawer lock on it’s own???” So I call over the night manager who only has about another ten minutes left on his shift. He looks bewildered and utterly clueless as to what to do. He runs around looking for keys. There are none to be found. Now I work in a big modern office. How you have 90 filing cabinets, and not one key is beyond me. Anyway, he tries to break into it. I run around looking for anything “pick-like”. After about 20 minutes or so he turns to me and says, “Don’t you have anyone to bring you a spare set of keys?”  I weakly say no as I am thinking “Well no, smarty pants, I don’t, that is the ONLY set of keys to my truck. See I wasn’t anticipating them being locked into a Dumbo- colored cabinet tonight. Also, tomorrow is Christmas eve. How is waiting going to make it better? Do they really want to pay holiday pay to a locksmith?”

He huffs off as I state that maybe we should contact the big kahuna boss lady to see if she knows where any keys are. When he comes back he is on the phone with her. Turns out that she doesn’t know where any keys are either and this has happened before. Awesome. By now, it is a whole office adventure, people handing things over to try to pop the lock. After about another 20 minutes of struggling with it, we finally get the bottom two drawers open with the one that contains my purse. Yay! By this point I was so anxiety ridden I could have just popped.

Despite the situation being over, the stress still made me a bit twitchy by the time I got home. As usual, I check the mail and inside was a handwritten piece of mail. An awesome Christmas card from a far away friend. It was so sweet and helped to soothe my jangled nerves. It is always neat to receive mail Christmas cards because that means someone took the time to address it and mail it just for you.  We may not have any physical gifts for the holiday, but it is already turning out pretty spectacular. To all a good night…

 

Hope in pieces

I know, I know, it has been while since I have blogged. There is good reason for that. The past month, I have been finishing up the quarter at school.   It was twistedly tough, then add to that, the car, the bills, work and so on. Well you get the picture. Oh ya, and I made the Dean’s list and I am feeling  like a super hero for it. Bring it on baby!

Anyway, tonight’s  topic is about something that has been happening the past year or so. Some of you may be able to relate. If not, I truly wish for it to happen to you. It happened again this morning when I was in a really low, scared head space. That is when it always seems to happen.

The dog wanted to be walked again before I left this morning. “Oh goody, I am sure they won’t mind me being late again this week.” How can you begrudge her though? Fine. I less than enthusiastically take her out, while thoughts of the day’s potential drama flash through my head. Am I going to have enough gas to get home tonight? My phone is off, what if I run out? How am I going to do this? We are out of cat food. Where does the money go? You know, the kind of thoughts that make you feel like a small insignificant fish in an enormous pond.

I am frustrated the dog is taking so long. I have seconds to get on the road to make it on time. She wants to go further than usual. Fine. Then I spy something on the black top, a flash of light in the brilliant sun. I recognize it’s glimmer immediately. It has become familiar, comforting,and just what I needed today.

A shiny, crystal clear marble.

This is number five. You see, every so often, when my emotions are not so good because life is at it’s worst, I find one. Each virtually identical save for surface variants. All of them especially shiny considering their surroundings. In a place that is unusual, yet right in my path.

Now a skeptic might say, “They are just marbles, they sell them everywhere, some kid probably lost it.” Sure, that could be true, but then explain how they are always exactly the same. Do children not play with multicolored marbles anymore? There must be an awful lot of little kids playing with clear marbles in parking lots, and even in my living room these days.  And boy, they definitely have precision to leave them right in my path.

So far I am up to five. Five brilliantly clear pieces of hope. I prefer to think they are a gift and a message from the “other world”. A pat on the back saying. “You’re going to be OK. Carry on.” To that I say “Thank you and keep them coming.”

What do you think dear readers? Anyone have a similar experience?

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Bridging the Gap Between Domestic Violence and Chronic Illness

Bridging the Gap Between Domestic Violence and Chronic Illness.

Thanksgiving can cause head pain

The holidays often strike fear and depression in the hearts of the millions enduring chronic pain or illness. This is supposed to be a time of reverie, spending time with loved ones, enjoying the bright lights and unique luxuries the season has to offer. However, when you have chronic pain or illness, these times can be more stressful and thus more dismal than bright.

How do I know? I am one of them. To look at me, most people have no idea. “Well you can’t be THAT sick.” I know I do not really look the part. I’m sorry. That is because I spend a great deal of time trying to maintain stable health while creating the illusion of normalcy for myself and others. I also spend a lot time and money(that I do not  have) on various aids to help me get through the day. Things like vitamins and supplements by the handful, as much whole food as I can afford(which isn’t much), prescribed medicines, only certain shoes, pillows. Just like so many others, all of these needs are another reason for my decent into poverty. I say needs, because they are just that. Without my seizure medicine, my Trigeminal Neuralgia will return full force, rendering me unable to work. Without the right vitamins, the multiple lesions on my brain make it difficult to comprehend information. Without the right shoes, the arthritis makes it very painful walk. Some days my brain overloads and I go to “the other place”. But I am fortunate. Even though there are days that I could not walk, I feel for those this holiday season for whom that is a permanent reality. Who’s seizures are intractable, who’s pain never ceases not even in their sleep. While it may not be the case tomorrow or the day after, for today, I have the ability to cook a meal for my family. Right now, I can hang decorations and laugh at a good joke. I have much to be thankful for.

A friend once told me that pain and illness are internal bruises literally and spiritually coming out. No matter how hard you try to suppress it, the damage done to your body and spirit from violence cannot be run from, it will always find a way out. While not everything is, I know that much of my pain is caused from that time in my life.   You don’t get thrown down stairs, through walls, deal with constant stress, and such without repercussion. Somewhere, somehow, it will come out eventually.To a degree, it is like a badge. I fought and won.  Which brings to mind an old Red Hot Chili Peppers song “Fight Like a Brave”. Some of the lyrics go “Fight like a brave, don’t be no slave, no one can tell you, you’ve got to be afraid”.  It is a powerful mantra.

People are fighting every day just to maintain. So, next time you are impatient in the store with someone who “looks fine”, remember to be kind. Their ability to simply BE in that store, getting ready for the holiday may so much to them. Sure, they may not be as quick- witted or fast as you, but their body and spirit are just trying to work it out. Offer a hand, a smile or just your patience. Have a neighbor that seems a little anti-social? Its probably not you, but their pain they are hiding from. Bring them a plate of food on the holiday. Illness is a barrier to the real world. It breaks up relationships and isolates. The holidays make this feeling even more magnified.

If you are ill, whether inflicted from old wounds or day-to-day life, give your body and mind what they need to heal. Plenty of fresh food, vitamins. Learn to forgive. Reach out.  Meditate. Keep breathing and moving. Most importantly, don’t forget “Fight like a Brave”.

Happy Thanksgiving to all! May you all have a peaceful day and a stuffed belly.

 

For those are wondering, here is that song:

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Chicken dogs and ramen noodles

So Fiona(the Santa Fe), is presently at the repair shop waiting to be picked up tomorrow. After many noble attempts, I finally had to call in the “professionals”.  Everything was stacked against working on it at home and fixing it for cheaper. The fact that it rained 85% of the available time I had to work on it, packs of misguided teenagers hovering about, and a severe lack of proper tools all dissuaded me from continuing to try. Speaking of tools, the one socket I needed to get the plenum off, a 10MM socket,  turned out to be only one missing out of my set. That has to be divine intervention saying, “Hey stupid, give it a rest.”

A plenum..not mine, but you get the idea.

This has meant that I have to take two buses to work and two buses from work the past week and half.  All told, just over an hour bus ride.  I am not a bus person. Not that I think I am better than anyone else, I am just not a social creature by nature. I am also not a “morning” person. So having to walk 1/2 mile to the bus stop, then get bombarded with questions, noises, people staring at me(I’m fairly sure I look more than a bit crazy in the morning), is just too much to bear. Not to mention the walking to and from the bus in the rain. Sunshine state my ass.

I know other people do this all the time. Its not the end of the world, but boy does it twist one up, The walk has been invigorating, annoying, a bit scary, and exhausting. At first I was up for the challenge, all is well until the “crazies” start trying to follow you, honk at you, or any other number of menacing things. Now I am no wimp, but really people, cant you just walk up the street minding your own business anymore? Why do you have to make me feel like I might end up on a missing flyer? Or land in jail for giving you “what for”?

Even better, for the privilege of all of this, I get to pay MORE for one day on the bus than what it would cost to put gas in my truck for two days. To make matters worse, the last bus to my area is an hour before the end of my normal shift. So far I have lost about a days pay having to leave early. So much for economical transportation.

All of that said, I had to make another to tough decision. Pay rent late or keep on walking. I chose to hold back on the rent a few days.

The mechanic gave me the news today, about a $300 fix. More than I can really afford, but better than it could have been. Besides, he was kind enough to fix my rear shock for free(it has been rattling for six months), and is going to work out a deal to fix a few other things I have been putting off. He said she rides like a champ. That’s my girl! To have her back, I will gladly eat chicken hotdogs and ramen noodles for the next month.

Yummy!

For those who are wondering the outcome in this saga: It turned to be a vacuum hose, then the throttle body connector hose thingy was cutting off the air flow so the sensor wasn’t reading the correct amount of air flow, as well as cylinder three was misfiring.

So if your vehicle every shakes, rattles and rolls. Check your vacuum hose, air connectors and plugs.

On the bright side, this situation has shown me who the kind people are at work. One of my coworkers has been picking me up in the morning on the days she works. Another saw me at the bus stop and actually turned around in heavy traffic to get me, not once, but twice. Another kindly drove me home tonight. My boss has been awesomely understanding about the whole thing.

I am so grateful for everyone. Not just in this situation, but to everyone who put out their hand when I needed it most. Always remember to reach out, you just might be surprised who you find.

Sometimes I’m a Scaredy Pants. Pray for Fiona.

So it has finally stopped raining for the time being and my darling son has begun the process of removing the intake manifold to get at the back row of spark plugs. I know, what a great kid!  He is of course doing it for a particular motivation though. I promised him he could drive around the parking lot if he uses his boy muscles to help his old mother get this fixed. lol

I do not get emotional over much except for my kids, animals, computers, and cars. Yes, I know the last two are inanimate objects. But still, its like watching my baby go in for surgery. I hope we are doing the right thing, but with cars, like with life, you just never know. In my broke condition, I cant just sit here and hope it will fix itself or bring it the mechanic for $1000. So whats the worst that can happen? She already doesn’t run right and if this fix doesn’t work will have to be towed to a shop anyway.

Please pray for Fiona tonight that our hands do the job correctly.