Sometimes the results are wicked....

Hello.  Long time eh?  Well I have been taking care of other stuff for now.  I found that my back troubles were not something the Dr. would do surgery on.  And he's a smart man as I was diagnosed directly after my last visit with the back Dr with bladder cancer and have since undergone surgery to remove the bladder and am now home recovering.  My mom, dad and now mom again have been here taking care of me.  Linda M will be here the 1st of the month and then on the 5th the boys will both arrive to take over.  Where would I be without them all????   Gotta lay down again.  Not feeling too well yet.  Surgery was the 12th of Dec and I was released on the 21st so have only been home a week or so at this point.  It's been miserable....take my word for it and take care of yourself...p.s....I'm still a non smoker.....hehehe!  :-)

I guess there are no perfect solutions....

I have just gotten home from seeing my Dr again.  I have been positively believing that there will be a solution to my back pain and what causes it and how to fix it and when we will do that...but there are no new answers for me.  "Nothing I can do for you" were his exact words.  Those words instantly bring me to tears and cause my mind to race for answers it appears I will not find.  How does a person live with this level of pain where you can't even get out of bed???  And, if I'm feeling it, if something caused it...WHY isn't there a way to correct it???  I feel so bad for the boys as they hear the desperation in my words and my voice and I know they worry that I will just refuse to take it any longer.  I don't want to create fear or pain for them.  I just want to be able to get up in the morning, go for a bike ride if I chose to do so, ride a horse again...live MY life.  The one I built and now cannot find a way to participate in.  I can only view it from the historical and spectator perspective.  I really want a cigarette right now.  I quit three weeks ago today for the surgery I won't be having.  Anyone who truly knows me knows by that statement that I really believed this surgery would happen and that it was going to "fix" me.  Now I just want to smoke.  I smoked for nearly 40 years (age 11 to 51) and quitting was not something I did or do for that matter.  I don't quit.  I use to tell people when they would suggest that I quit smoking that I "quit quitting."  Gave it up.  Thanks anyway.  I really planned on my quitting being for a valid reason (other than death by cancer of course.  That's pretty "valid").  The surgery to fix my back was the motivator....seems it works both directions that way.  I think I might check into getting drunk... been a long damn time since I've been drunk and might just be the "blank space" I need right now...Wish me luck. 

Continuation of Part 1, Oct 19, 1974

Well, today is the 21st and still no baby.  I wish you would hurry.  Today your dad, aunt, gramma and grampa are all at your dads uncles funeral.  I couldn't go cause it's in Baker and if you happened to come while we were there I'd die.  Not really die though.  Today has been a very boring day.  I went downtown and ordered some flowers for Vera.  We can't afford it but that's tough. It only cost $8.50 but the gas bill came today and it was $8.34 so when our check comes it will have a few extras to pay.  I didn't realize until I was married what everything costs.  Especially you.  Did you know that for 5 months of care from the Doctor, you cost $225.  That's one appt a month.  And the hospital where you will be born should cost anywhere from $300 -$350.  But I know you'll be worth every ounce of it.  I'm not complaining about you I'm just complaining cuz when my cousin had Leigh Ann it only coxt them about $300 all together.  That was about four years ago.  The prices have raised that much in four years.  Just think what they'll be when you or your wife has a baby.  Wow!  I might be a grandma someday.  Farout.  Pleases make me a young  Gramma.  If you're a girl anyway.  If you're a boy wait until you can support yourself.  Man, it's a hassle if you can't.  Right now we make enough to pay our bills but that's it. No money to go places on and do things with.  So far since we've been married we've gone to the coast and to your Aunt Lories.  She's not really your Aunt but I call her my sister so that makes her your Aunt.  Her baby is 4 months and two weeks old today  That means you'll probably be about four months and 3-4 weeks younger than Michelle.  Anyway, both times we've had to scrimp the rest of the month.  It's five thirty right now and your dad isn't home yet.  I get worried about him driving that far.  I worry even if I'm with him. See I'm one of those worriers that start to imagine weird happenings if someone is late.  I get scared thnking the things I think.  Your dad told me once to quit thiinking.  Cute huh?  I think so.  I hope you have his eyes.  They are so pretty.  I hope you have an outlook on life like his.  I remember once when we were going together I broke up with him because I didn't think I loved him.  I didn't at the time.  But I had told him I did and it was hurting me cause I didn't.  Anyway, I told him in a note that I had your aunt lorie give to him.  It had the ring inside it and then she came and got on the school bus with me.  Well, I should've that he would follow me home.  Anyway, he did and when I got off the bus Lorie and I started walking towards her house.  Before we got to her yard he pulled up across the street.  He got out and came over to me and I was crying so was he.  He asked if we could still go together but I didn't have to tell him I loved him until I was sure.  I thought for sure that he would hate me because the guy I was going wtth before him hated me.  That was mainly because I had a thng going with your dad for about a month before I broke up with the guy I was going with.  Anyway,  I agreed to what your dad said. 

I am beginning to do what I had originally started this blog to do.....get my journal down in print so that I can finally pack away this suitcase of notebooks and tablets and scraps of paper that I have written on for almost 35 years.  I will begin at the beginning.........I want to remind any readers that this is coming from a 15 year old girl who does not hesitate to put down her thoughts as she thinks them. 

                                I never would have imagined how I see this today..........

Part 1, Oct 19, 1974

Started Oct 19, 1974; Well today is Saturday and you were supposed to be born Weds.  Where are you??!  Right now your dad is playing with the dogs at the park.  We just left that park and came up to Aldridge Park.  We'll probably bring you up here alot after winter is gone.  I wonder what you're going to be.  A boy or a girl?  Today is a nice day.  The wind is blowing but not hard. It's real warm out.  Cindy M, Shari O. and I were talking the other night about how when you grow up you'll think of me what I use to think of my parents.  Just think when you are 15 I'll be 31.  Right now that seems so far away.  But I know it is going to be shorter than I think.  I keep thinking about how I went through my life with dope and smoking and parties.  But to think that you too will probably do that, I can't help thinking about how I'm gonna handle it.  My parents would throw a fit.  In fact, they did.  But me being in their position.  Wow! You know this might sound strange but I want to write down everything I feel now so that you'll know that I'm not trying to be a parent.
Shari told me that when "Fuzz" was born she thought "Wow, this is gonna be the best time.  We'll party together and get high together and everything." But now she says it's all changed.  You can't help but become a parent.  Not just in the sense of having a child  but wanting the best for them.  I know I would'n't give up my memories of all the wrong I have done because at the time they were funner than hell.  Now that I've quit school and married Dan and are waiting for you I feel old. Like I didn't get my share of life.  It all changed when I met your dad.  We had a lot of fun through the first summer and winter and then I got pregnant.  Wow!  That was the best thing that ever happened to me.  And yet to some people, (like my parents)it was the biggest mistake I'd ever make.  But now I know and they know it wasn't a mistake. 

Well, that picture visually describes how I felt after getting the last set of shots...heehee.  They worked for about a day and a half and I have since seen the Dr. for the follow up.  He is doing one more set to confirm the results and then will operate on one side (then allow to heal for three months) and then do the other side.  So, we're looking at about another six to eight months of this crap.  He has required that I stop smoking (which I have done as of yesterday).  The Dr. wouldn't even give me a prescription for smoking cessation stuff cuz he says my wanting this surgery to work should be motivation enough.  He just doesn't budge an inch.  He's like a spoiled little kid who always gets his way and somehow makes the "giver" feel it's the right thing to do.........some people's children, I swear.  I got a postcard from Tanya last week.  They are (were) in Connecticut camping out and that made her think of me.  It's nice to be thought of.  I need to go to bed.  Tomorrow I am up early to get a couple things done in the cool of the morning.  It was perfect outside today.  G'night.

Is That A Glimmer Of Hope????

Progress. 

For eight letters it has huge impact.  I will see the Dr on Tuesday for a follow up and then he will schedule another set of shots to confirm the results from the last set.  Then, most likely, I will have surgery on my back.  I really hope this doesn't make it worse.  My choices right now are simple........pain or possible relief.........what would you decide???  I've got to go for the possibility of relief.  Otherwise I might spend the remainder of my life in pain when it could've been fixed.  And I really have a hard time imagining any pain worse than what I feel now.  I seriously would rather hit the asphalt at 45 mph again than suffer this damn back pain.  It sets the mood for my entire day and usually it sucks.

I need to get moving.  It is after 4pm and I am still trying to "get moving".......

Somewhere In Time.....

I guess I had to do it.  Put some kind of history up so that others down the road can see it after it is history to all of us.  When I see a 17 year old with two babies on her lap I don't see me.  I wonder who she was/is?  I fight back the tears that come to my eyes as I listen to Pink's new song "Dear Mr. President" while staring intently at a picture of my son in uniform. Not knowing what he went through, not feeling what he's felt. But knowing that he does is enough to break my heart at times.  I'm one of the lucky ones...he came home.

Wow, took a little break there didn't I ???

Well, it has been awhile and yet here I still sit. My computer fails to see the importance of staying with me on this project...Hopefully I will have XP on here this week. I've re-installed Windows 2000 Pro so many times I can do it in my sleep and with my eyes closed. I have gone through all of the shots and tests that are available for me and this week see my Dr. on follow up from the last set of shots I received. They did nothing. Not a thing. He sounded a little disappointed but aware of this possible result when we talked after I was home from the hospital a couple hours. I will find out this week what he has in mind to try next. I am still waiting for SSDI to make a decision about my disability eligibility. Hopefully that will happen soon and without having to lay down on the tracks for them. Once down....I doubt I could get up. Well, I need to get some errands run and laundry. Sorry it has been so long but I just don't come down the stairs unless I really have to anymore. That sux huh? Bye for now.

Today is Saturday and so far so good. I have had a very limited week as far as mobility goes. Had some computer glitches to figure out as I now have a new tower and got rid of the old one. New operating system that took me back a step instead of forward...why does that always happen in this life? I always seem to step back first...maybe it is to analyze before trudging forward??? That has to be it. I can't think of one other good reason to step back first. Been trying to get this house cleaned up but so far it only happens in my mind as I just don't move as I should to actually show progress. It's as if living one day destroys any progress I make in a day. I believe that is called "standing still in time." Not sure but I have high hopes for today. I could actually move this morning when I woke up. Enough to get in an upright position to lift myself out of bed and get down the stairs (which are pretty scary in the a.m.) to make coffee. Couldn't sit but I could walk. Can't have it all I guess. I will now attempt to get some things done. I hope you have a better start to your life today than I have.

The place that I come from is one that on a warm day I could get on my motorcycle and ride off in any direction and nobody even noticed. I could ride several directions to a huge field where only one tree stood and was surrounded by wheat fields and there was an old farmhouse becoming more and more abused by the weather and time unattended as each day went by. I could see off in the distance the town below that was "home" and in another direction the freeway that was a reminder that is was the year 1969 or 70. Without those two reminders I could've easily pretended to be "Laura" or "Mary" from the Little House Series of books that one of my elementary class teachers had read every word of to us as we laid on little rugs brought specifically for that purpose. (This was long before the Little House Series hit the television screens!) I remember laying in that field as if I were on my blanket and would think about that teacher for she had given each of us in that class the desire along with the ability to read. This place had been "mine" since I was 11 years old and had proven that I could handle that motorcycle on the mountain roads I explored. The other place I would ride to was what we named "The Breaks." It was a place where I would sit on a huge boulder and look out over the crevices between the mountains where they "broke" into separate mountains and you could see far far down where the rivers and creeks would be if you could've see them through the trees. But it was so high up that seeing between the trees was impossible. You could listen to this place and almost hear Angels talking as the breeze created sounds that made you look behind you and around to see who was saying something and then look again to see if anyone was just pullinga joke on you from behind a tree or somewhere or had seen you looking around with a look of surprise or almost fear of the unknown. Then it would send a chill down my back and start a whole new train of thoughts and off I would go again. Other "spaces" in my era, my "time" and in my memory belong to my grandparents ranch and the countless Sundays I would spend there in the powder fine dust, riding and petting horses that Grampa said I could buy from him if I could come up with $50 (which he knew would take me forever to save), climbing on the wheat combines that harvested the 10,000 acres of farmland he planted in wheat and barley, checking out all the new baby pigs that were in pens with huge mamas that we were strictly warned NOT to even put a finger through the fencing of if we expected to keep that finger! Climbing up to the top of the barn and opening the hay door so that we could see who was coming out from the house. When I was older, about 13 or 14 and would get bored Grampa would toss me the keys to the old farm truck and me and whoever was there and brave enough to join me would run for the old truck, situating myself on the pillows or coats in the cab behind the wheel and soon we would be ripping down that dirt road as fast as I dared with a cloud of that brown powder rising high behind us. That world seems so far away now. My sister would get car sick in the same location every Sunday on the way as the road to Gramma & Grampa's was long, two lanes, very hilly and curvy and it never failed that she would turn green and we would have to stop to let her puke. My brother would fail to mention he had to pee and would be given a pop bottle cuz Dad wasn't stopping again.......and back then the bottles were glass and had no screw back on and forget it caps.......he would hold it between his feet until he could safely pour it out at the ranch. And me, I just sat in the middle cuz I was not privileged enough to get a windowseat........being the youngest I was not privileged for much on roadtrips. After having my own kids I would think about how I valued the memories of the ranch, the cabin, the family reunions that so many cousins, aunts, uncles, and their cousins, and their kids and new husbands, or new wives, Grampas and Grammas and GREAT Grammas and sisters of Grammas and Grampas would attend that we HAD to rent the Grange Hall a 1/4 mile down the road to fit us all. Everyone came with something to eat in hand and proud to show it off. We all had our favorites and would run to see if that is what that person brought for us again that year. I actually grew up and became the master of the "Dream Torte" that I made and it felt odd that now there were kids checking to see if that is what I brought that year. The smells coming from that hall were amazing and still make my stomach growl just thinking about it all. After the food was eaten, the deserts cut into and visited a second time the men would bring out the guitars and start playing songs they all loved to sing and hear. The women would all be in the kitchen cleaning and doing dishes and wrapping up food and making sure everyone got the (now empty) dish that they brought with them. Then when the ladies were done they would join everyone and the music would go on for what seemed like an eternity. They all had such beautiful voices the men did. I remember my mom always requesting her favorite; Green Green Grass of Home and the guys never hesitated to oblige her. I wished that my kids could've had that in their lives, I wanted them to feel what I felt because of that family. I finally realized that they were creating their own memories of the places my parents lived, the people that were still alive, still visited by us. It just seems that that entire era is gone now. No one gets together anymore, no one drives two or three hours to get to the ranch like we did every week, no one cooks or sings anymore. We've all gotten old, many have died and it's now the era of the grandkids kids........It all went so fast. I miss it.

How Did THAT Happen??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How the hell does a poor person like me become in debt to the IRS??? Am I not supposed to get refunds or something??? They sent me a notice a while back saying I reported too much income while paying too much tax. This is a bit confusing to me...I didn't file one year and so the next I added that income and paid the tax required for both. Of course, from the amount I would get back they deducted the tax and sent the balance on to the student loan collectors as I owe the national debt there. And somehow now I still owe $861.00???? Give me a frickin break.....I would hope they are willing to accept my apologies and an IOU. Get in line. I'm going to have to deal with it eventually I'm sure but can we wait until another decade??? Geeshhhh!!

I plan to continue the journal idea but have got to get a few things done first. I have not been out of my place much lately and am suffering a huge toothache at this minute. Accompanied by a headache of course. So, that would be me laying in that hammock right now.......I'll catch ya later on.

Where to from here.....

Well, it is Sunday and the weekend flew by for some reason. Usually it's Saturday and I'm thinking it is Sunday only to realize that there's another day to go before the work week begins. I am tired today...didn't sleep well again, still. Exhaustion is a tough one. What can you do other than stop, turn off the ringers and alarms and close your eyes. And we are all so convinced that there's no time for any such thing that we continue to run ourselves down until we're spitting out dirt.......and we're the intelligent ones? When animals are tired they take a damn nap. I'm going to start living like an animal.......haha! As if I don't already.

Well, I forgot to hit the "post" button when I signed out. You will find this typical of me. It is Monday now and I have a ton to do. I slept some last night but am very sore and hurtin' for certain in the back. Gotta get motivated.

Well, That Wasn't What I Expected...

Today waa my follow up appointment with the Dr who did the shots in my back on Tuesday. I didn't remember him being so good looking. But then I first saw his MA for the intake appointment, and then at the surgery center I was on my way to LaLa Land by the time he arrived. So, yes; very handsome. I was ready for good news and seems the good news just isn't ready for me yet. I wonder what it is that I've done to deserve this? I only felt a small fraction of improvement after receiving the shots in comparison to what they wanted so now he has referred me to a surgeon. This could be the beginning of the end in some respects. I know that we are "dying from the minute we're conceived" but at almost 51 the reality of death sets in a bit deeper, firmer than before. I don't expect to die anytime soon; of natural causes anyway. But, this has caused me to realize that I have become that person who someone somewhere is saying, "Oh, you should hear...she's not doing well at all." For some reason I just didn't expect this yet. I seem to set out with the best of intentions only to do something or be the victim of circumstances that persuade me off of my path. Then it takes what feels like forever to return to what it was I was trying to achieve for me. I am an optimistic to a fault. What the hell is that all about anyway? It's just a slow motion firing squad for me. I really have only tried to be of help to others and I get stomped on anyway. This is really starting to sound like "boohoo" again and I REALLY hate that! It's actually just my thoughts "spewing themselves" everywhere in my attempts to understand it all. I guess a little organization wouldn't hurt get that in order. I am not so worried about the likelihood that I will end up disabled by the medical procedures that are left as options for me. I don't care if I'm considered "disabled". The part that scares me is what happens between now and the day they approve the disability income and it is actually in my hands for my bills. That's the abyss. If I fall in it may never matter. I was thinking earlier about the "snippett" I posted. Mac was one huge mistake but then again it helped determine which road to set out on, what my goal was, etc. It made me realize how much the law affected my thinking and how I somehow just knew what I needed to know when I needed it. Had I known that after leaving Mac for the fourth and final time that he would stalk me for five years of my six years in college I may have picked a different road to travel. My fear of going back to him during a moment of weakness might have been enough to convince me.

I have been in court several times but only once with an attorney that I actually paid for services. Otherwise, it was just me defending whatever position I held. When the boys dad, Dan found out I was married to a prison inmate he immediately filed for custody and the battle was on. I don't actually believe that he ever wanted to take the boys away and hurt my heart that way but his new wife sure did. She was younger and when she had the nerve to tell me to my face that she and he weren't planning to have children and that my sons would be hers.......Oh honey, you have no idea the mistake you just made. Dan arrived at the park where we dropped off/picked up kids just in time to peel my hands off of her neck so she could gasp for some air. I walked away telling her it would be over my dead body. We continued this type of dislike for each other for a very long time.

The custody case lasted forever it seemed. When we got to the actual trial Dan and all his family arrived ready to take some kids home. I arrived with kids ready to kick some legal ass. All of the questioning and answering came down to one request from me to the Judge. I told him that if the boys wanted to be with their Dad fulltime that we would not be in court as I only wanted the best and what they wanted. I stated that they had made me aware of their desire to stay with me, life as we knew it and therefore I had been forced to defend that choice. I asked him to take the boys and privately talk to them. I felt that they had been honest with me but I wanted to make sure they weren't just trying to spare my feelings by saying what they thought I wanted to hear. That was not the case. If they have ever been sure of anything it is the fact that they are responsible for their own choices. Which is why they were included in every decision I made when whatever I was deciding affected them. I didn't say "boo" without finding out how they felt about that. The Judge took the next half hour or so to talk to the boys. When they all returned I don't think I've ever been so afraid of anything in my life. What if I was wrong? What if they were just sparing my feelings? The Judge started out with a bit of a lecture to both Dan and I about our file...it was as thick as an encyclopedia yet in our divorce we had no property division, no money to split, no issues. The file had increased over the time since our divorce by petty arguments back and forth. Dan had drug me into court for everything under the sun. I had responded to every filing. The Judge finally said that he had talked with the boys and that "...someone has done a very good job raising these boys; and someone hasn't helped her." I instantly began to shake inside. He asked Dan if he thought that the court hadn't noticed his record of never paying any of the court ordered child support UNTIL a legal action was filed?? During the duration of this custody case he had paid the (hideously low) $200 every month. And on top of that then informed the boys that every month he sent them $200 and they were directed to ask me for their money. Which I don't remember ever happening in the way that Dan had hoped. The boys were so finely attuned to our situation that they would bring their brand new Christmas boomboxes they got from a grandparent and tell me that they knew we needed money and that it was okay for me to pawn their belongings until better times arrived. I had already traded some of the better pieces of our furniture to an attorney who I thought would represent me in the custody case. Unfortunately a couch, oak tables and an "arch" lamp that all amounted to a small fortune weren't enough to get more than an "answer" filed. As for the trial, I was on my own. In hind sight I'm glad that is the way it went. The court has the responsibility of making sure I understood all of the proceedings as a pro se respondent. And this court did. He also saw a woman who regardless of money had raised two wonderful kids. He also saw that my husband being in prison was exactly why the Judge did not allow that as a foundation for taking my kids away from me. He said that until the husband was in the home, no one could judge what kind of step parent he would be. Well, that came later but he had me fooled. He had fooled the boys too. I don't believe that Mac ever had malice in his heart. I just think that he, like all of us at times, goes with what is "comfortable." We tend to take ourselves into situations that we are familiar with, that we know how to cope with and survive. My question is this; how do we get there in the first place? I know I pushed myself into the relationship due to my cousin's wife. Her brother had done time and knew Mac. When her brother was paroled she, her sister and I drove up to take him and his girlfriend out to dinner. Mac called the next day from inside and all of a sudden I was being handed a phone and told to just say "hi" to some guy on the other end. He only asked that maybe I could write as "mail-time" was kind of special when you get letters. Me being a huge letter writer (remember, this is Pre-WWW); I agreed to send him a letter. I didn't realize how easily that would then escalate into collect phone calls that he promised to pay, drives over to the prison about 50 miles away to meet and eventually a move from my home town to the city the prison was in. When I married Mac I didn't tell anyone. When my mother pushed me to return to my home town I finally told her I couldn't because he was my husband and I was going to correct the errors in his file. During the course of my correcting his errors I experienced some of the most unprofessional conduct by state employees ever. The prison guards who would drive me from the gate to the building Mac was housed in would take "wrong turns" and it would appear we were driving off into no where when I would remind them they didn't want to mix it up with me. I would take them down and they knew enough to be wary of that. I had become that woman who didn't allow the system to drag her through what a lot of other "inmate wives" allowed. I was the wife that attended legislative sessions and stood in line to speak to the legislature about conditions at the prison. I was the woman that although "public documents" at the Office of Financial Management (OFM) were supposed to be accessible to all, was kicked out of the OFM as someone had called someone else and let them know I was there looking over the books for the prison. With the prison on the extreme East side of the state and the Capital on the extreme West side of the state the leaders rarely saw the product of their decisions. And this also meant that the leaders rarely saw the true conditions that existed. One of the "legal beagles" in Mac's housing unit had filed a case that was climbing it's way to the State Supreme Court. It was a suit that contested the usage of two different sentencing guidelines for the calculation of time. There were the "old timers" who had been sentenced and then came the new inmates, same crime but LESS time. So, as it went up the system ladder I became more and more involved in the politics of prison. I attended the State Supreme Court hearing when it was heard and it was so exciting I could barely stand myself. We won. Nearly 1,500 men walked out of prison because the sentencing guidelines were either rejected or applied to all. That was an amazing day. I had been in the Department of Corrections office so many times prior to try to make them understand the errors they had made and the price that Mac would have to pay in years that I finally decided that I would go over their heads. That was the Governor's Office I soon found out. The governor at that time was Booth Gardner; fondly referred to as "Goof Gardner" by the prison population. I started my "attack" on the Governors' office and worked my way up to the point where I actually sat down in the Governors office and discussed what had gone on the past three years in reference to Mac. The Governor's secretary was directed to find someone to assist me in getting this mess cleaned up. I had used the sentencing guidelines given to me by the DOC to recalculate Macs sentence and he clearly should've been paroled at the very least. I had taped all of my conversations with any of the state offices over the phone. Mainly so that I could keep who said what straight in my head later but also as evidence for one state agency that another state agency had done this or that. I recorded the Director of the DOC when he pointed his finger at me and poked me in the chest saying "you'd better back off"; you could hear his finger as it tapped my chest as right under it was a microphone that I was sure was going to fall out on the floor at any time and expose my little secret. I took tapes to the Governors office as evidence that what I was saying was true. Because I had not told the person on the other end of the phone that they were being recorded they were illegal. If I had told them I would have nothing. I have always preferred the more exciting in any choice. Mac had accused me that night in the visiting room of doing nothing, wasting time and money, being worthless......this is how he kept me up to accepting his challenge to prove him wrong. He said I had accomplished nothing when I knew but could not convince him that I had accomplished a lot! How many people do you know who would go this far for a man who deserved his sentence??? He did his best to make me feel horrible about myself again and sent me home pissed off and tired. The next morning he called and souinded stunned when he told me "I just received parole papers"...I said, "No shit Mac" and hung up. I refused his collect calls for several days, didn't go to visits, pretty much made him believe he had no where to parole to now that he had treated me so poorly. But that was the beginning of a game I didn't even know I was playing yet. I would soon find out that to stay sane, safe and secure I would play a lot of games with Mac.

His release date didn't arrive for another 18 months. It had taken me 18 months to get the state to recognize the errors and it would take another 18 months to figure out what the Parole Board had to agree to. Mac submitted five plans in total. Each taking about three or four months to come to a decision. Each requiring a new location, new job, new school, new home, new beginning. Each time we would set up what we thought was "the perfect plan" the Parole Board would shoot it down adding another requirement that was not conveniently not available where we had selected to set up on this plan. The final requirement was "Sexual Offender Counseling." Now, my mission was to locate all of the prior plan requirements AND find a counselor that the board had to accept, that would accept Mac into the program, and that we could afford.....that was all.......

I found a counselor who would accept him even with his record. He was diagnosed previously as a "Sexual Pshycopath" and therefore he required "special" counseling that came with a "special price." I had become accustomed to ignoring the cost of anything and just doing it and figuring out the money later. By the time I started trying to set up a home that would be approved on his plan I was living in my car. When the boys were with me I convinced them (or maybe just myself) that we were "camping out" and when we would see state parks with showers.......oh, wouldn't that be fun to stop and check it out? Whenever possible, I shipped the boys off to either my dads, my moms, my aunts depending on where we were at that time. They missed an entire school year driving all over the States of Washington and Oregon with me. Washington schools were well advanced from those the boys had attended in my home town. When the "long vacation" was over and they were eventually put into Oregon schools they were "at their levels." How much luckier could I get? All of my running, eating, sleeping, breathing parole plan had not injured their progress as I had feared. I was counting my blessings for that.

Once Mac was released it had been nine years he spent in the prison at Walla Walla. He wanted to do everything! I was exhausted and knowing it was all done was what made me happy. No more state agencies, no more denials, no more having to listen to Mac tell me what a worthless waste of time I was to him. Or so I thought. Mac had a lot of things in mind that I had no clue of. I would find out why he was in prison first hand.

Without our paths crossing who knows what I would be doing now. Sitting around some potato shed in a small town where I would be the mistress of the man who has wanted me longer than any other. It's a shame he's married, doesn't plan to change that and is content with where he lives and his life in general. He even tells me that he does love his wife but that she just isn't everything he would like if given the choice. She keeps such a tight rein on him and his wallet (did I mention he has a pile of wealth?) that he could only have a lover like me. One who doesn't expect or for that matter want more than a moment now and then. I am not "wife material" you might say. That bubble burst ages ago. Men are attracted to that until they realize it's there to stay and then they either want to change that part of me or leave, or both. And most do. Unless of course they are the married ones who let themselves believe they have the best of both worlds. Pretty much, they do.

Now That's What I Call A Shot.....

Talk about a shot...WoW! I was on my stomach and they were "scrubbing" the area they planned to poke me...I remember slightly feeling pain and yelping...next thing I knew "nap time" was over and they wanted my ride there NOW! I seem to have that effect on people. They had called him, he had answered, then no Stan, another 20 minutes or so, still no Stan...finally, STAN! He works graveyard so I was a little concerned that he had fallen asleep and that I would be that stray that they don't know what to do with. My back was killing me when I got there; to the point of tears. After the procedure I came home and went in and out of sleep all damn night...mostly OUT. Then I got some good sleep and today it feels pretty darn good actually. Compared to the "norm" I have become accustomed to. It was annoyingly painful yesterday as the shot site was sore and it seemed to want to nag at me at any chance it got. Now that part has gone down and it feels pretty okay. But, I just got up to let the cats out and did something to it as now it is a little achey. Oh well, can't have it all right? Just glad it's over, glad it seems to help, hoping when they do the permanent application that it lasts a very long time. I need to take a shower........I'll write again later.

A "Snippet" From A Book I'll Write

This is a "snippet" of the book that I am writing. It is based widely on the truth with possibly a few embellishments due to old age and not remembering it the way it was for real. I re-live every moment while writing about this and have no clue why I am doing it other than I might possibly just need to clear it out of my mind once and for all. This is a rough around the edges no planning, no forethought type writing so bear with me. Thanks!

While looking over the forms and requirements to apply to UNLV’s school of law I started to write the essay they request that explains why I feel I should be admitted to the law school. I have lived in Las Vegas since the end of 2002 and have left and returned several times due to the hardships this town delivers to the newest arrivals. The help wanted ads even say…...” If you haven’t lived here for at least a year do not apply.” I understand now why that statement was there. I was asked in interviews how long I had lived in Vegas and when I replied three months or, whatever it had been, the mood in the room changed. It took me over four years to find a “real” job that believed I was staying. In that four years I was homeless more than once, kicked out of what I thought of as home so many times by the man who had convinced me to move in that I have forgotten how many times it was. I know that it was so often that I finally just left my things in a storage unit, as I was tired of packing and unpacking it all. It stayed in a storage unit for about three years.
There has never been a simple answer for me it seems. No matter what I did from an early age to yesterday. Having to learn that swinging in and out of a second story bedroom window off the curtain rod that was so easily within reach from the top bunk bed is not a good idea. Especially after the rod gives out in mid-flight. Learning that my motorcycle had a limited number of gallons of gas and that meant after so far it just stops. It does not care if you are half way between your summer cabin and the town you call home thirty miles away. Every mile by way of back roads discovered over summers of pure freedom to roam. Learning that the opposite sex will do what ever they want if you do nothing to stop them; even if fear is what stops you from doing something.

I have attended law school in the past at Quinnipiac University, School of Law in Hamden, CT. It was the third year (I believe) that "school was in session" after Quinnipiac took over the law school at the University of Bridgeport. “Pumping up” its new reputation, new school, new town and brand new building with state of the art everything. Quinnipiac maintained accreditation throughout the entire transition. They had no plans for allowing students to slack off their ratings either.

I graduated from the University of Oregon in Spring of 1996 with a Bachelor Of Science in Sociology. I had spent the summer of 1996 in Carlyle, Pennsylvania attending a six week Continuing Legal Education Opportunity, the “CLEO” program, that I had begged and pleaded to be allowed to attend. None of the law schools I had originally applied to offered a seat for the coming Fall. Even though I convinced the Oregon Bar Association that I was scholarship worthy; I had to be accepted in an Oregon law school to receive the scholarship. That did not happen. I was a minority, Native American, and the CLEO program is designed to assist minorities who might not otherwise make the grade into the field of law. We completed what was a large portion of the first year of law school in one summer. At the end of the program, we had a Mock Trial and I came out of it with “Most Convincing Argument.” I was sure to get in somewhere after this…

The first mistake in planning had been convincing myself that my fiancé' of 2 ½ years (2 ½ of our 8 year partnership) would survive my being away from home for such a long stretch of time. He asked me to marry him in hopes that marriage would sway me from completing my “mission.” I had set out in 1989 (having been a 10th grade drop out who was 15 & pregnant at the time) to return to school at age 30, get a degree and go to law school. That was all there was to it; I also planned to raise my two sons and still assist all those stray cats that mysteriously show up to my door. I was 29 years old when we met, I told him within days of meeting him that I was starting college at the local community college that Fall. Then when I completed all I could there, I would transfer to the University three hours west over the Cascade Mountain Range. From there I would enter law school for the three years it required. It never really occurred to me that I would have to travel out of state to attend. I applied to all Oregon schools, all of the surrounding states, and eventually ended up in Hamden, Connecticut.

I believe the road began several years before; at the age of 21. I was married to the father of my two sons. We had been married for six years. We had not reached the same place at the same time when it came to planning our future. I found it was possible to justify ending the marriage and moving on without him. I probably should have hung onto that one as he turned out to be a notch above what I was headed for.
After being in Connecticut for about three months I found myself receiving the bookkeeping for our Excavation Company in packets of mail with notes asking "please, can you do the PUC's or, the insurance/bonds, etc. The guilt ruled me. I maintained my studies, my job and working as a researcher for a Professor and "did the books.” I probably would have done fine had he not called me two weeks before my first year exams (hammering down in study groups, an entire school year on one exam, reading, near "legal death" limits you might say. Then he said it, "I think I need more space and time.” I nearly fell off the chair dropping the phone that emitted words I thought never to hear from him. I could not help but scream back at him in sheer exhaustion..."MORE SPACE AND TIME?” “ I AM THREE THOUSAND MILES AWAY FOR THREE YEARS...HOW F#%@& MUCH MORE SPACE & TIME COULD YOU POSSIBLY NEED?!!?!? Not him, he was "the one.” After three failed marriages; at ages 21 (married at 15), another ending at age 24 after almost three years of trying to re-create what is supposedly "the norm." And finally again at 26 when who knows what possessed me, I married a Washington State Prison Inmate who was a “great guy,” ...until there were no guards within ten feet of us. That is when the abuse, anguish, pain, manipulation and confusion began. He swore he was "over-sentenced" and that corrections had to be brought to the State Board of Prisons & Parole and the Department of Corrections. He would be there forever and according to him; he did not deserve that! After all, his arrest came during the time Ted Bundy was doing his thing and "every sexual crime was committed by the one who was still out there." I finally got tired of listening to him and told him "...if you are so sure, send me the papers to prove it." I soon found myself literally "buried" in documents dating back to his early prison career beginnings of age 17 at Walpole, MA. One of the worst institutions in the US (so I have been told anyway). I was soon to become a one woman army against the State of Washington as once I put all the "pieces" in the proper places....he HAD been over sentenced. Even the worst of the worst require uniformity in the rules, laws and penalties against them. My belief in our system was unwavering so I believed if this could happen to him it could happen to someone else; My brother? My friends? And what if, unlike Mac, they were innocent and not just “over sentenced?” Mac’s record reflected misdemeanors that were calculated as felonies, felonies that were too old to be considered yet there they were, holding onto every point value the State could possibly attach.. Charges that were dropped in reality somehow showed up alive, well, and ready to count in the calculations for the State of Washington to consider in their "sentencing guidelines" act. And they did; to the tune of a still undetermined amount of time. More than should have been calculated. The State of Washington also had to make an example of him as once he was arrested and charged for his crime, he conveniently disappeared for about seven years. Going to the furthest point he could manage, Montreal, Canada. He had taken his current wife with him (I was #7; #3 to marry him within the prison walls). She would turn out to be his undoing. And her own as well. Being the abusive controlling person that he was she could not resist someone else’s gentle attention. When he found out she was sneaking around without him, he made her aware of it with more abuse. She called Washington and reported his location. That was also a mistake as from what he told me (maybe the truth? Maybe to scare me?) he arranged from within the prison walls to have her and her new lovers’ car blown up…with them in it.

I will never learn it seems...

Well, here I am again...sitting, hurting, wanting to whine about it but knowing it was "self inflicted" and I've no one to blame but myself. I really hate it when that happens but it happens so damn often! Nobody said, "Kendra, go upstairs and re-tile your bathroom floor." But I am...and it's looking pretty good I might add. My experience in "tile-setting" is extensive...I hung out with one a couple times. Hehehe! Oh, and mustn't forget, I did read the instructions. I am so addicted to home improvement! And the real "bonus" is I can usually get all the materials free from the "Free" ads on Craigslist.org. I also am painting the bathroom with that same damn color that I have painted everything before this...a kind of mocha brown mixed in with some other color I forget that resulted in a gallon of paint that I refuse to waste. All of my landlords end up loving me. Unless of course they refuse to return my deposit. That always pisses me off enough to drag their sorry ass into small claims court, whoop that sorry ass and then usually I never see the money anyway. But, it was worth it just to see them try. I love this condo I live in as if it were mine. It's the perfect place and with the perfect landlords. They appear when needed, they have told me that they have no intention of raising the rent or ever selling. I'm set! I have to admit though that in this current economy I wouldn't blame them if they did. I just hope they don't. I love it here! I am so sore today after being on the floor all day yesterday. I need to get something to eat and I can't even muster up the energy for that. I have my spinal shot on Tuesday and am starting to get a bit nervous about it. What if something goes wrong and I end up paralyzed? How the hell will I ever do anything I love doing? Horses, motorcycles, going upstairs since that is where the bathroom is........gotta love that! I hope it helps like the Dr. thinks it will. My entire existence has changed so much in the past six or nine months that it's hard to believe it is my life. I asked Phill what size the kids wear now as I want to get some summer stuff for them and what he told me about made me fall over! Mathew is now in a Mens size 8 and Cameo is wearing a Ladies size 7. What the hell? I move away for one second and they grew up on me. Breaks my heart! I don't know if it's because I don't get to witness the changes slowly or if it's because I didn't want it to go this way. I wanted "MiMa" to be a daily thing in their lives and it seems like I've robbed myself of that. See? Another "self inflicted" wound. But it is so much deeper than any others to date. I love and miss them so much. I just can't make myself leave here. More on that at a later date but for now I ache. I really do need to eat. I can't remember what I ate last and that's usually a sign that I didn't.

Free Law Dictionary

"Free Law Dictionary Online"

Linda & Valerie

I wrote this for a very long time friend of mine as her daughter is returning after a year of school in Italy I think??? Not sure. Never was good with those far away places.......anyway, to Linda & Valerie.......I love you all.

A Mother & Daughter Time went so slowly this past year for me I thought of you, worried about you....wondered if you thought of me Worlds apart from each other only a plane ride could narrow I wanted to check on you, touch you, hear you and smell you Your familiar fragrance when the door opened Was it shampoo? Rinse? Maybe your lotion? This house was so quiet while you were gone To just hear your footsteps in the hall......how I longed! To know you were safe I would have given it all To know you'd return soon with that smile I missed so Now here you are with stories for all of the year that my heart broke (but I'd never tell) You grew and learned new things that I couldn't bring you I can see now you were as anxious to tell me as I am to hear them A mother and daughter learn this part together When you let go we trust it isn't forever It's only until lessons are learned And now time has given us new pages to turn Together or apart the first lesson we've discovered Is the undying love between a daughter and mother.

What Now???

As in...Bring It On!!!.....I got a call today from the clinic that is doing the shot in my spine on the 2nd. They said that my insurance was canceled and that they would need payment the day of.... only $2900 or so. Okay, so after I awoke from my fainting spell and got up off the floor I then began to panic wondering why my insurance would be canceled when I had promptly turned in my Cobra paperwork and verified it had been submitted. She tells me that due to my termination the regular payroll deduct did not arrive therefore HPN (Health Plan of Nevada) canceled me and until that payment was received and entered onto the system I would not be able to have the shot. If I can get the payment to my former employer, lovely bunch that they are, and they can get it mailed and to HPN prior to the 1st of June I can have the shot. I have waited two months almost for this shot. I lost my job because it has taken so long to get this shot. I will have this shot if I have to throw a tantrum to get it! It is going to revive what use to be a life and if it is unavailable or doesn't work like it's supposed to......I have no clue what I will do to live through the pain. I'm not a quitter so there are no options. I just keep thinking about how old all of my family has been when they've passed......late 80's & 90's........OMG, I am only 50. Not often you can say "only" with 50 in reference to age huh? Well this is one of em. That would mean another 30-40 years of this and I have barely endured the last year with it. Sometimes I wonder about my luck.

I have been a statistic all my life......at age 10 or 11, whatever, the surgery that caused the intestinal adhesions that took me to the edge of death.........I lived. A dropout from school, a teen pregnancy and marriage at 15, a divorce at 21, a marriage, a divorce, a marriage, a divorce, physical abuse, single mother, homeless and living in a car with two kids, prison inmate marriage within the walls of the penitentiary, co-habitating rather than marrying again, college return student that graduated and was accepted to law school, a law school dropout, a business owner, a failed business owner......are you seeing a pattern here? I am. I don't really want to be counted again for being the oldest woman on the planet. My damn luck I'll live with this pain to age 130. I can barely make it to tomorrow. I'm going to go to bed and deal with all this tomorrow. What did I do to deserve so much???? (boohoo, I know) I will "buck up" tomorrow.

Oh Please, NOT Again....

Well, after the on and off sleepless night last night I did get some sleep today. But of course now it is almost midnight and here I sit. By the end of the week I will be able to cover a night shift no problem.....just like a tiny baby my sleep schedule is diving into the dumpster.....hopefully it won't be there long. Maybe it's because I actually can sit and think and write before or after the day has come or gone without feeling like I need to be doing something else???? Who knows. I sure don't. Today I went onto Oprah.com and signed in for the first time in forever. I was kind of pissed at her because during the time that we were nearing the end of our rope with the patent we filed I emailed Oprah a million times regarding the "Harpo Hook Up" trying to get the idea in front of a company that can visualize what we and most every person who has heard our idea can visualize and take the ball and run with it......for a percentage of course. But not any portion of ownership. That patent belongs to the boys and my grandkids. All I have ever wanted was to be able to make life a little (a LOT) easier for them now than it was for us when they were little. My whole brilliant idea of returning to school and borrowing what feels like a million dollars was to provide the boys with a good life.....if I had known that my education would not complete until they had graduated high school I probably would've thought a little more on the whole idea. I don't regret going; I regret being ignorant to the whole student loan scam. Now WHY would they loan so much to a person who carried a C average in college, barely scored in the bottom third of the Law School Admission Test and repeated her first year of law school due to an emotional tornado striking two weeks before her first year law exams????? Because I am a hell of an arguer and can write a damn justifiable appeal...possiby a curse in this regard though. If I had known that missing the GPA by .02 was going to eliminate me from the entire path I was on I would've requested delaying the exams (which I found out after the fact I could've requested) and dealing with some of the emotional stuff I had going on. My grandfather was 83, had JUST died of cancer and I could not attend the funeral due to exams. I had spent a ton on a ticket home right before he died to simply look in the hospital room door, see him snoring and knowing that I wouldn't wake him when sleep was so fleeting. He knew before he died that I had come home. And my final memory of him was hearing his snore and seeing his lips quake from his snoring. Peaceful...that is how I remember him. He suffered such pain that I don't think I could bear any other memory of him. Also, I had been with Bob 8 years and had only been in Connecticut for three months when he started not answering his phone when I tried to call. Then not returning any calls from the voicemails I left. Then escalating to answering and realizing it was me and hanging up not to answer it again for the night. This from a man whom I had met, fell in love with and moved in with within two weeks of meeting. He was so dependant on me that he would mail our business paperwork 3,000 miles for ME to do because he couldn't manage to do it himself. We had an excavation company that did really well for a one man/one woman show. I did all the taxes, paperwork, bill paying and helped in the ditch, drove dump and bobcat when needed. He did the bids and digging. But then the call comes two weeks before finals for my first year and he says, "I think I need some space and time"....my response to that is "I AM 3,000 MILES AWAY FOR THREE YEARS!!!!! HOW MUCH MORE FUCKING SPACE AND TIME COULD YOU NEED????" At that point I went off the edge......Finding myself in a car in a liquor store parking lot drunker than I've ever been in the middle of the night with some man I've never met, never seen before!!!??? I spent everynight getting drunk, pushing my luck driving drunk, hitting something and destroying my car and never knowing WHAT I hit. Even getting stopped by the New Haven cops and never even being asked for my license even though I was so drunk I almost had to pour myself out of the car. Driving right past my apartment building while one cop "escorted" me home and then pulling a U-Turn in the middle of the street and going back.......cop-in-tow until the engine was off and I was inside. Punishing myself for that type of behavior by making myself walk the 7 miles to the library at school with my books.......and all kinds of other stupid things that people who really don't care anymore do. I spent the remainder of my law school career trying to convince myself and those around me that I was fine........but I wasn't. It took over three years to finally be fine. After all, I had spent 8 years planning this......8 years believing that when Bob's back gave out from the hard labor jobs he worked that I could pick up the slack and he could slow down a bit. I was not going to stop doing what I had been trying to achieve for ten years. That would make me a quitter and that was NOT the lesson I was trying to teach. My boys are always my #1 priority and no one will ever have the power or persuasion to change that. Even at 33 & 34 they are my "boys" and they turned out perfect on my scale. I really wonder sometimes how the hell that happened??? Are they just that good at hiding the reality from me or are they really this smart????? When I was young I had a reputation for running from things, not facing them head on. I had run away from home at 12, 13, & 14 and marrying at 15 in attempts to escape the insanity that lived at my house. Once I married and left home setting up the "nest" for the baby on the way my parents split and did the "back and forth thing" a couple times finally divorcing. My father has never forgiven himself for not being able to quit drinking before it was too late. He hasn't drank in about 25 years now and still carries his burden around everywhere he goes. Three marriages since Mom should prove that he messed up and has not succeeded in finding an equivalent replacement for my mother. She is too amazing, too beautiful, too deserving to suffer any longer than she did. She is also the one who shares all the good memories too and there really were a lot of good ones mixed in there. Nice homes, new clothes in the fall, summer cabin, summer vacations to the Oregon Coast or Vancouver BC, Canada to visit my Dad's sisters (one older, one twin), snow skiing, a horse of my own, motorcycles, tons of packages under the tree every Dec 25th. It was a good appearance. It could've been a good feeling if there had ever been feelings present in the room other than anger. Seems those were the only ones allowed out in the open. I don't remember ever hearing either of my parents tell me they loved me until I was in my 20's and forced it on them. I know that they loved me but knowing it and hearing it are really apples and oranges. Well, enough is enough of this for now. I am going to attempt to sleep. I'm sure I'll be back if that doesn't happen. So many things to explain once you start connecting rhyme to reason. I will have to work on that but this is actually a "draft" as I'm positive it will change over time. Everything does.........g'nite.

Commercial Breaks In A Blog????

I have also decided that I will enter the poems and verse that I have dumped so much emotion and pain into so that I no longer have to locate them when I want. This one was hanging on the wall nearest to me at the computer so it is my first "victim." ;-)

Love As It Ends

I think the price is the peace within

I had given it up to be with him

He doesn't notice the crumbling walls

He hasn't walked the tattered halls

All that once stood inside my heart

My love, my hope, my happiness, my pride

He blindly charges ahead to be first

He's the one that matters not the one that hurts

He hasn't noticed what he's left behind

I doubt it will ever cross his mind

He only cares that he can place the blame on me

For all of the troubles and all of the pain

I've no place to run to, no place to hide

If only I could just stay here inside

I could spend my days all snuggled and warm

And the nights I could wander about until dawn

No one would see me no one would hear

But that's how it is now whenever he's near

This torture surrounds me, it won't go away

I try and try but fail everday

To make him acknowldege that I, just as him

Have needs that surface from deep under my skin

My heart will soon shatter, it won't carry on

It cannot continue, it's starved far too long

I wonder if he'll notice when the time comes

That the warmth and the strength I provided are gone?

His appetite and need are always quite large

So he must find plenty or soon he would starve

He's his first concern, he's the one who counts

He just needs anothers heart to draw the life out

With that thought in mind I prepare for the death

Of my heart that once was a bottomless pit

Of all things wondrous and all things rare

All of the things two hearts in love share

This is now history, it stands still in time

I had a heartful of love, reason and rhyme

Those days are gone and my days will now end

As I've given the last of my love for him.

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

At Three In The Morning...

Good morning...I hope. I have decided (with some persuasion) that I will get my journal together and start typing it in a day at a time and see how that goes. I have asked Tanya to help me get it typed up as having to type all that begins the cycle of "oh, I'll read this.....and....that......" and the next thing you know I have stopped "reading" and have begun re-living the words. My mind departs and goes back to that time, setting, situation, emotion, etc. It isn't always pretty either. I just hope that enough time has passed so that the things that pierced my heart and mind before are less able to do so now. Living through it once is one thing but voluntarily subjecting yourself to it all over again is simply putting yourself through something you could decide not to.

How often can this happen?

Some days just feel as if they never quite finish....that is what yesterday was like. I felt as if I got no sleep, was never in my jammies, never relaxed. So then of course today is twice the effort and energy that it deserves. That might be an "unjust" word to use...deserves...but sometimes that is the way it feels. And over the years I have learned that what you feel is a direct result of what you experience and no matter how hard you try.....it doesn't change. You may be able to disguise it but....it really hasn't changed. The outer appearance might be something other but inside it is what it is....and inside it stays until it goes......if it ever goes. I wish this one would either go or just stop nagging at me. The pain, physical pain that I feel is on a level I never thought possible. Why did this happen to me? I dig through the memories to try and find what horrible thing I have done to create such Karma if that is what this is and cannot find anything that equals this. Even multiplied I cannot think of what I've done. I've never had such a hard time holding back the tears as now. Then I feel as if I'm having my own little pity party just for me but when that happens I can even see in my cats eyes the confusion and questions of what is wrong with this person who loves, pets and feeds us? They almost seem to ask what they can do to make me feel better. Seems sad that it has come to this. Looking to my old, cranky cats for comfort.......who'd have thought?

Let's see, where have I been and when did the door lock?

It is almost summer. And here that is saying your summer is ending and our Spring has sprung...we're already getting into the "100 days of 100 degrees" as they call it here in Vegas. I love the hot summers here.

I have started a book but it has no name at this point. What do you call something that has barely begun to form in your mind much less on the written page? I call it a "draft." Maybe that's what I will name it...Draft. Nah, just doesn't sound like an Oprah Book Club nominee to me. And you know how important that is...once you hit the "O" show, you will sell. The point in all of this being to #1: Earn an income without having to suffer the pain in my back everytime I attempt to earn an income and, #2: To get all this out of my head so I can go forward from here. I really don't even know where "forward" is from here.

I was fired from my job at about 4:59pm last Weds. Yes, they relieved me of my suffering you might say. Of that suffering anyway. And they created more at the same time. They will suffer the Karma that accompanies the behavior they choose. Not my problem anymore.

I told a couple people back home that I had been fired and immediately their response is to tell me "...it's time to move home." Huh? Home? Did I ever ever in your memory EVER stay where you put me??? Did I not run from all locations you have tried? Did you not get it? I fear my response has offended some. I have been here since 2002 with no intention of leaving. I have had to leave temporarily but never with the conclusion of not returning. And who the hell are you for thinking that you should determine where I live and for how long??? I would never presume to tell you where you should live...I don't get it??? Is it because I'm the "little sister" or the "youngest child" that you feel the need??? I am going to be 51 years old in less than two months...okay, now do you get it?

To me this only indicates that I am supposed to be doing something else, with real purpose and direction........and definately a direction I decide on......not you.

I am going to shower now. I hope that my day is as well lived as my back is worn.

It's odd to think about some of the past. It's almost like it isn't my life but some other person whom I've been watching and taking notes on throughout the years. When I compare the goals I set and the ends I've reached they don't seem to match up real well. Not at all in fact. I didn't plan for the body going before the mind......as it has. I didn't plan on going it alone, although I am. I didn't plan to stop feeling the desire to not be alone...but I have. I am happy to live and survive alone. If I never picked up a phone or went out to visit I probably wouldn't notice. I think that is kind of odd. Other than my kids and grandkids I don't feel the need to go out much. I wonder if that is the beginning of the position of recluse? I wonder if anyone ever actually asked a recluse "...so, what did you think or feel when you realized that you were on the path to reclusivity?" If there even is such a word...and then if they got an answer at all??? Things that make ya go "hmmmm." Well, things that make me go hmmmm.