Friday, June 30, 2006
I happen to know, through vast vacuous knowledge, that Drew Barrymore is attached to her dog for more reasons than the obvious. He saved her life from a fire. Nuff said! This her during filming of "Driving in Cars with Boys" which I liked very much.
Husband cannot STAND Anna Nicole, probably for obvious reasons (I think its mostly the voice) but I could not resist this face (hers) with Sugarpie. What a crazy person AND not afraid to show off that expensive dental work!
I couldn't care less about Jessica Alba until I heard the good news. She has accepted Pugs as her personal saviour. Yup, this is Sid and, of course, at home is Nancy. I am now lovin' Jessica Alba. What the heck was she in last? Deep Water or something? Whatever. She loves Pugs. My new personal hero in skinny girl form.
Okay, like I tell you below, I'm outta here for the weekend. Everyone enjoy yourselves, I'll miss you and you know what - I love you guys, considered yourself hugged. Okay, smooched too, Mwanh. From me the Tart to you. :)
I do not understand the strangeness, the bizzareness, may I say enigma that is Blogger. Behold, un pictur. I question not, I'm glad my super powers are BACK!
Folks I am venturing on excursion this weekend. I'm visiting friends of Husband, people in fact that I usually crank about on this very blog. I am subjecting myself to this simply because I am tired of hovering in my house, my town. Got get outta this place.
So, it may be quite probable that you won't hear from me until next week. You know the Tart will be back. You can't keep a good Tart down, and everyone knows it!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Sunday, June 25, 2006
This made me even think that the nation's capital was getting bombed, because it was such an unfamiliar storm. I thought, "Crap, we really are getting Armegeddon and I still don't have an emergency food supply." Funny the things that run through your mind.
So I got Husband, and undramatically enough, he confirmed that it was a thunderstorm. So we go inside and turn on the national Weather Channel only to find our little city in the tickertape at the bottom warning of an impending storm, possible 63 mph winds. We go outside to reel in our umbrellas (we have a couple of these) and other stuff to batten down the hatches.
Then I took my meds and had both the cat and the dog on me as I drifted off into slumberland, while the wind, rain, thunder and lightening tore up the outside. I did wake up once in the middle of night and it was still goin at it.
We wake up the next morning with tree debris and devastation. I just say that last one for effect because after seeing what Katrina did to N.O. its nothing at all. No one was going to lose a house in this. It's just that I found it fascinating to see the wreckage....so I took a few pictures. Which I have literally tried for days to post and Blogger photo is being beastly. I can't get things to go up that I tried previously (gorgeous pic of one of the CEofthe3rdKind ship, pics of my backyard and damage to neighbors') so I GIVE UP. Here is my post. And you thought I was dead!
Now understand, I have been trying to post this for four days. I don’t understand the problem with pictures on this thing but I have been doggedly working at it, cause the Close Encounters pic is so cool.
We have had rain for 3 days so far. The radio said two or three inches a day, and plenty of flash flood warnings. So yesterday I got a craving (cover yo eyes, Mysti and Enigma) for a Snickers. So we went up to our local 7-Eleven in Husband’s SUV cause I fear for my cute lil PT Cruiser (oooh, bet you didn’t know I had one!!) washing away (its low to the ground).
And this evening we made a Wendy’s run for the (hide ‘em gals!) spicy chicken sandwich and we’re listening to the radio and an ad for the new (Again!) brownie hot fudge Sunday came on and wouldn’t you know we were parked near a McDonald’s to consume our Wendy’s (yup, we’re the sickos you see eating in the car in a parking lot – don’t look we might stick our tongues out!!) so we went and got one each. Husband says, “Do you think this is a low-fat brownie?” And I’m like, “Unh unh, or else they would advertise it. It would be a selling point.” Then over to the Blockbuster to turn in “The World’s Fastest Indian” with Anthony Hopkins, which we all enjoyed, definitely a thumbs up. I had given up on shoes when leaving the house and surveying the river in front of our house and car. So after shoving the movie in the slot I run squealing into the car while the eaves pour rain onto me right as I get in. That was fun! And I don’t feel it’s outside of my personality to squeal and be silly. I recommend it!
Well, the home purchase was a definite good buy, because while I heard reports of people buying out the sump pump section of Home Depot, we were warm, safe, and DRY! That would be because our home is equipped with two, countem two sump pumps and many inches of rain like that made no difference to our house. Next door neighbor had part of a tree go down on his power lines, Power Co. comes and only saws off the part that was touching the lines, lazy bastards. I guess they don't see themselves in the tree cutting business because he had a huge branch also hanging on the same trunk stem that they didn't touch. This also does not surprise me.
Well if anyone understands what magic and jjuju necessary to make Blogger photo button actually work please let me know. I tried every combination over and over and over again and it just wouldn't.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Have a great day! I have pics of local storm in my area but must shrink em down for blog. So will post those tomorrow! La la la lala Live for Today!
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
One thing not discussed is music. Now, I’m not going Tipper Gore on anyone here, but at a certain point I think music becomes more important to a teenager than tv. I know it did for me. They can plug their earphones into their head or go to a friend’s house, or more likely, car, and just be in another world. Considering the complete degradation of women that today’s sad excuse for music is, I think that would scare the poop out of me as a parent. Someones buying this stuff and its not just 30 year perverts who like to hear about booty shakin’. I guess as a parent you would need to be on it, yet again, listen to it, talk to them, even find out what friends listen to. But it sounds like from posts/responses, that is just the moment when many parents say, “I’ve done my job, hopefully they’ll make the right choices, and turn out okay. I don’t want to hassle them too much at this point.” Read: I’ve been doing this 15+ years, I need a break. Hey, be pissed but doesn’t it seem what many do? If your kid acts out and you have to deal with it, don’t you find the energy to muster to pick his ass up from jail? Well? Muster it before.
I liked totally different things when I went into my music mode. Beatles, Led Zeppelin, oh and Dead Kennedy’s, but really oldies like Jimi Hendrix. I liked Def Lepard, etc. I consider it all music appreciation since all of this stuff was Super Oldies by the time I discovered it. My deal was losing myself in music. I wonder anyone who can take degrading hiphop and play it over and over and get so much good out of it. After all, some things are the base of music, teaches you timing, and is the stuff that gets copied over and over. Even if I had my personal issues going with it, the fact is that was good stuff.
Alright, to switch gears from morals and what your kids are getting out of life, here’s something a little different.
Momma’s please teach your boys how to cook.
I met a woman once who was adamant about teaching her son how to cook, clean, sew for himself, etc.
She said this was so he would never feel like he ‘had’ to marry a girl in order to have these things done for him. That he could take care of himself and choose the right person for him.
This guy, her son, was gorgeous. Whoa! Big blue eyes, really sexy, okay he was my age, so that’s not gross or anything. So you’d think she’d know the girls would be clamoring for him.
And I think she was doing him a service, if she did in fact teach him those things.
I tell you what, if she wanted to teach a man sewing (and many other skills of trust in his own hand-a-bility/fix it ness) she should send him to the Navy.
My husband is more comfortable around a sewing machine than I am. He sews on his own patches from the service, and sadly that’s better than me sitting down and creating clothes or something, like I wish I would do (am I afraid of that contraption?) Anyway,
But, Mamas, you just may be doing you kids a disservice feeding them that well balanced meal without ever showing them how to do it.
They will always depend on others for their food. In reality that can mean a tv dinner, McDonalds, Burger King, Taco Bell and every other cholesterol laden toxin that you have worked so hard to keep out of your precious person that you’ve raised since birth. This goes for girls too, because for many of us, our mothers played the part and did the cookin, I know mine must have been so happy when the work was done, she didn’t want to elongate it with getting me involved. So here I am at 34, learning this precious art. Some comes to me from remembering things my Mama said, and some is common sense. But when Husband genuinely complimented me recently that I really Was a good cook, that made me feel so good. It seems like such trial and error.
Now, with men/boys/teenage boys I can imagine a struggle against that none, NONE are portrayed as cooking well in the kitchen, the only choice is grilling or maybe a fire. That’s not reality. Men need to cook for themselves. Half if not more of my father’s problem with heart disease could probably be traced to bad food choices and perhaps that would have something to do with his complete knowledge of cooking is slathering peanut butter on a piece of bread or eating chicken out of a can for a ‘healthy protein’ otherwise the man is known by name at Carl’s Jr. in his hometown. His mama loved him, but she didn’t help him with a skill that is needed to live. Honey, if you eat shit what do you think your body turns into?
I know this is nothing new. It saddens me when, if I don’t cook for Husband, if I'm, not around to do it, then he has to go out to eat, whether fast food or not. He actually does have a tiny repertoire of stuff he could make, but it’s mostly grilling items. Anyway, his mom cooks great but didn’t pass it on to the kids. And I just think mamas should think twice about this, seeing as you are what you eat, literally, and we’re all getting fatter and fatter. Talk about dependency on oil, dependency on fast food is killing us.
I can't get a photo to show up on the page, using compose.Perhaps a Blogger blip?
Also, thank you for good ideas about keeping the cat off the plant. Thanks Jennifer for your response to the Valley Girls. Email me sometime would ya? I couldn't get back to your blog.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Well, today is a day to be remembered, marked, because I am now a homeowner. We went to closing today, and despite all my previous fears about not getting a loan, we did, and now its ours. I also spent some time today putting the utitilites in mine/our name so now I owe even more to the man. Well, some man somewhere! Hah!
Other than that, I'm just completely exhausted and slept a lot of the day. But I cooked an awesome chicken cacciatore for dinner (watch out Rachel Ray!) so Husband was impressed with that and my utility changing experience. Just goes to show you can do a little and still get your guilt free zzzzs in there too.
Truth: I'm premenstrual. So I don't attribute these things to falling apart. These things being: constantly tired, achey, feeling EVEN more fat than usual. And all of the emotional issues that can never be pulled apart from my natural person anyway.
So Husband's been bugging me to go see his friend and friend's wife in VA Beach. I don't WANNA go. I tell him to go by himself and we both know it will be a weekend of fixing everything for them that they can't do themselves. This is just unsaid on both parts but it is usually the case. THAT I don't care about. I don't want to be stuck with the wife while he plays/hangs out/fixes with the husband. We used to hang around them constantly while they lived in our area and I ALWAYS left with the most horrible feeling, like as nice as the dude's wife is essentially, she either looks down on me or is somehow weirded out by me. For YEARS, I thought I had done something, that I was, well for lack of a better way of putting it, a piece of shit. Horrible way to feel. Husband never got it, and always said I should feel fine about myself and that it doesn't matter what she thinks.
Of course, its a given that these people know about my bipolar. Why that has to be an issue I don't know cause A) It truly is none of their business. And B) I'm fun. What the heck, do they think I'm going to flip out or something? If I don't care to know their deepest darkest secret why should I be tortured or be made to feel less than for being a kick-ass survivor? I don't think they realize how great I am, just for the very illness itself. Well, I think the Husband of this couple knows (long story, and no this whole thing is not a jealousy thing concerning me cause she should be concerned with her husband's fascination with hooking up with old high school girlfriends which she is fully aware of - EW!) but wife just seems like an emotional dumbass. Just calling it the way I see it.
As years go on, I get pissed about it. Why would a seemingly nice normie act this way? What have I done or not done to deserve this misunderstanding? All I could think of was that I was more than nice, keeping my mouth shut even when I wanted to say something, and bending over such that people might think it's okay to take advantage of me. I think I do this because its been made clear that "we know you're not a normal person," and really that hurts and I really don't what the right reaction to that should be (except kiss off). And to tell the truth I'm afraid to be my real me with those people that I am at home and for my real friends and family.
I had an epiphany a few years ago, where I realized and could really feel that in fact, it is THAT person's fault and problem. I'd just like to smack her into reality but has anyone been able to perform this for any deeply entrenched snob? Nope. In movies they just get killed, cause there's no converting (no worries, I'm not in the murdering business.) Seriously, there is no changing another person. So how about avoid them, just to keep their jeebies out of your life?
I 'practiced' all the comebacks, all the things I'd want to say to the mirror, its that crazy thing I do when I get stressed and that's all I've got to talk to and work things out with. They just sound mean and vindictive and probably MAKE me look crazy.
This person, the wife, TELLS me all kinds of crap going on in her life. I don't want or feel that I can tell her things about mine. I don't know if this sharing that she does is her way of trying to pretend I'm her friend and have something to do, but many times it is excruciating. I'd just like to tell her that while I've been to many therapists, I am NOT one and perhaps she would be better off finding one. Nope, I just listen, no word from me and no desire on her part to hear me anyway (I gave up years ago). Her eyes literally go off in the distance if I speak.
I have nothing to talk to her about, especially at this point in my life. I do feel like a bit of a lowlife anyway, being at home all the time and not cleaning the dickens out of my house, or exercising, or drinking all my water, or eating better. Yeah, that pretty much covers the lowlife aspect of me.
Um, lets see, I'm on Disability, just fought a major battle to keep that intact, been home, not working, smoke a lot, and take care of my animals. The big difference between me expressing my life is that my friends and even the internet community care more about these things than this person.
No, no, no, No,NO, I do not want to go. Husband says, "You are my wife" (To which I should say, "Goodbye, City Life!") and that's why I should go. He has never understood my complete discomfort with these people. He doggedly, truly like a fool, keeps trying to bring us all together. Honestly, that's just a big landmine waiting to go off. I wonder if I should give them ALL something to be afraid of and they'll quit bugging me to participate. I'd just like to go to the beach and have a nice time, but he talks to this butthead friend of his everyday and I think Husband feels guilty if we don't visit.
I'm like can we wait to see them next year, when I've lost a bunch of weight and have it really together, I mean for a mentally ill person, and we can compete a little better. Cause face it, somehow that's what this is all about.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
I thought I had fonts and colors from Word. Only to find when I transferred to Compose - no good, it didn't show. Ay-yi-yi!
Does anyone know how to discourage a cat from eating a plant? I got a beautiful orchid from Ikea today, and I put it in a high place that he can quite easily get to, as evident in the major chewing he did on the plant I had there before. If you know of anything that works I’d soooo like to know!
Medicine: kicking in.
So, over and out Houston. I am down for the countdown.
Monday, June 12, 2006
This is a good day for you to stay in and rest, dear Virgo. Trying to make sense of things today may only leave you frustrated and upset. This is not a day to try to find analytical reasoning in regards to the way things are done. This is a day to see the big picture and to feel more than think. Strong forces are urging you to see the other side of the picture so that you can create a better sense of balance in your life.
All I needed was the first sentence. Mmmhmm, I'm all with that. I ventured out to Chic-fil-a with the Madre and that was enough human contact for moi.
Which conveniently leads me to my next rant. It's a sad sight and thing to hear, the high school girls playing Lindsay Lohan/Paris Hilton/Nicole Richie bitch wannabe. Understand that 'Valley Girl' (speak) began during MY tender years of middle school. No self respecting wanna be would ever say "Gag me with a spoon" anymore but you know (!) precisely what I'm talking about, Like, Oh ma God! I refused to take VG as my first language, but in fact I am conversant in it and have been lowered (that's what it seems like to me) to speaking it if I converse with one thick in the accent. It does, actually, make ME wanna gag myself.
This has become a culture, a ridiculous way for many sad, vacuous, self-esteemless young woman to to get together and the upshot as I see it, be cruel to others. And now it seems it is not only tolerated but down right encouraged.
You'd think they'd want to shed any remnant of something of their mothers, I hear most generations don't wanna be like mom. The language started in the 80's but the attitude is getting much worse than we had it.
I can say this cause I went back to school and the difference between a gal in her later 20's with focus is vastly different than the younglings, the age when I first started college myself, that I had to be in class with. I almost wanted to laugh (okay, I'm sure I did) when young things could not understand why they weren't doing as well in class or why their dumbass comments were overlooked (and I say that painfully as no woman comments should be dumbass, sheesh) and I could wait for the right moment and blow the class and professor away and score. Look, MENSA is NOT going to induct me Ever, I'm not a bonafide genius, yes Tart admits it. But EXPERIENCE beats drinking all night and partying with the frat boys, kapish?
When I get upset about the party girls, high school, college, or sadly they are now being released into society as whole, when I want to embarrass them or kick their ass (hey, mania's a wonderful thing!) I remember having to walk through the State (mental) hospital with a certain particular evil girl always screaming things at me. She had me quite terrified for a while, because she was not only the cruelest of the cruel, she walked around like she would kick my ass or kill me.
I learned to get by her, actually by using a walkman and literally tuning her out, just so I could go to meals at the cafeteria or, my favorite, Occupational Therapy (known lovingly as OT) where I could do crafts and create and have just the semblance of happiness. She eventually lost her power over me. It probably helped that a good friend of mine, a friendship developed in the hospital, gave her the what fer. J was black (I only say that cause I remember that about her, wouldn't you like to know more of what she looks like?), bipolar and pregnant with twins and she suffered no fools. We were friends even when I was at my lowest and shittiest and no one else would come near me. So anyway...
I tell myself forevermore there can be no dumbass whitebred girl without a clue of reality, that can have much of a real affect on me.
I consider it a miracle that in the 6 months that I was kept in that hospital I had no real physical altercations. I've never had to kick anyone's ass (or had mine kicked for that matter). It's funny because it almost seems more likely for that to happen on the outside (as we always called it inside the luuuuuny bin). Sad world isn't it? And they say we're crazy.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
I just saw a bit of the "Sixth Sense" on TV and it freaked me out. Sure, it probably freaks regular normal people out too. But it made me feel like I was slipping into that psychotic mode. It makes it believable that the dead are walking around with us, for all I 'know' that might be true, I don't want to mess with that. But I quickly fell into weird feelings that I had when I was psychotic. After all psychotic is not normal, it is not in this reality.
I have often thought that it might be worthwhile to write, talk or discuss about being psychotic because I think that if I for one had not experienced it, it would be fascinating. I find it frightening, in truth. It is so terrifying, it is like being stuck in your worst fear or horror movie and no one can get you out.
I realize my medicine is human made to keep me in this world. I realize that the littlest things like not getting enough sleep or going to bed too late can jeopardize my mental health, make it possible for the terror to start again.
None of this is said for effect or to even explain, because I have the feeling that only people who have experienced it would know. I don't know anybody who's said they've been in the quiet room in the depths of hell. I'm thinking now I wish I did.
It's almost exploitive, like talking about personal stuff to talk about these things. Like I'm telling a secret. I don't want people to think I write this stuff cause its so cool to be crazy.
I guess that "Sixth Sense" thing made me feel like if a mass appeal movie like that can show a 'slipped reality' or make you feel the freakiness of walking around and being dead yet not even know it, then yes I admit I was/am feeling kind of like that too. And that's a little like psychotic where you are walking around with people and really truly are somewhere else. And being confused and believing things about yourself that well, reality says is not true. Yet, for you the unlucky psychotic, its true and real and there is not convincing otherwise.
What causes this I don't know, except brain chemicals I was born with and stress really does a doozy on it. I do know I usually have a policy of no horror movies none of it, because they are all potential fodder for the possible someday psychotic mill.
I wonder if anyone cares about this. I wonder if I wrote a book about such things if it would sell. On one hand you think, hell no, don't put your personal crap out there like that. On the other hand, my pittance of disability check is a little hard to swallow as a lifetime thing and when you write a book to sell, to publish the goal is the New York Times List and Oprah! Money is needed to live and I need something to do and focus on but I don't want to exploit my own frickin self! Hah!
I also wonder at the normie ability to comprehend. I think when my mentally ill friends and I say normie and bitch about him, we're thinking that they don't want to understand. It's really an emotional response in your gut to put yourself in another's place and care. I guess if a person has empathy, anything's possible.
Well, anyway, I do feel better because writing and having a head clear enough for it means I'm still on planet Earth with most of the folks. And that is where I truly prefer to be.
Thursday, June 8, 2006
It's much brighter tonight in reality, with clouds moving across it. It is beautiful because it shines down on me, and I am alive to see it.
It is quiet, except for the (decided louder) hum of neighbor's air conditioner, and ours, and I look down the back of the suburban houses with a light or two in their windows.
I made a pot roast tonight, my first ever. As I put the top on the crock pot I asked God to bless it, I hope it turns out good. I think it should rock! because I braised the enourmous chunk o meat and made beautiful gravy. Before that I cut carrots, potatoes and celery with a knife given to me for my wedding, used for the first time. It's going for 10 hours, which considering the meat is over 3 lbs. I *think* that's a good time for it.
What a homey thing, to make a creation like this. What a blissful place to be, in this house, my childhood home, soon to be part in my name. Who would have known after the terror and instability of being psychotic 11 years ago that life could get this good? Always believing the bottom could drop out, I know that establishing a foundation is key to just being able to live normal. Thank God, our Heavenly Father, who keeps pulling me more and more in that direction.
Wednesday, June 7, 2006
How wrong it would be if after two months of whining and fear if I did not share today's big decision with all.
Your prayers worked, my friends, a miracle HAS occurred: Tart's debt to Social Security is ERASED.
I will allow that to sink in, as it took a bit of time for me, as well.
I am so thankful and I have to note that I am having a resurgence of my personality again. I am hopeful, I have dreams and believe again that they can come true.
I've shared with reality friends, had my steak dinner and life really is going to go on. Thank you dear blog friends, I hope you haven't given up on me, I plan to be 'back' again. The pressure was so dreadful, I think I was in a state of perpetual fear, well as you well know. I hope you will forgive me for this time that I really kept to myself. I love you all.
So, are ya wondering how this could come to be? Mrs. EyeFlutter, who is quite the character in real life, and even has a bawdy sense of humour looked at the pittance (her word) of income that I have made, back then, even now and forevermore perhaps, and felt the original decision was deeply in question. So she asked me if I had expenses at that time, transportation, medicine that kind of thing, and I said yes of course, I was on medication the whole time and there were certainly transportation costs. So she quietly kept tapping at her computer, not saying anything and we're all wondering what the hell was going on. Then Husband, who could see her flatscreen said, "She's taking those costs out of each month."
I don't think this registered with Mom and I and we kept sitting there. I was despondent because I had tried showing Mrs. EyeFlutter everything that I had amassed as ammunition and I tried my most eloquent speeches only to have her cut me off and say, "Your disability is not in question." I almost wanted to say, "But, but.." but I stopped and shed a few tears in pure frustration. I think Mrs. EyeFlutter was enjoying this because she should have been in Drama not government work, because when my Mom finally said something "What is she doing?" Mrs. EyeFlutter said to me, "Well, I think your husband has gotten it."
She was inserting those monthly costs into the computer system to literally make the overpayment melt away! God bless Mrs. EyeFlutter! She has that sense of humour I told you about and she said, "Well, I AM God!" And even stood up to share this with her co-workers, (I'm not making this up!) because I think she honestly wanted to share our joy with everyone (I'm thinking this done NOT in fact, happen every day). Interestingly, there were no co-workers to be found in the adjacent cubicles. Hmph!
Well, regardless if she's the True Diety or not, she had lifted an enourmous load off me. I think she liked that we were humble, that I brought my Mother, who in fact SAID things that had no bearing on SS rules and all, but she was passionate, and I'm sure Mrs. EyeFlutter liked that. And I brought my ball and chain and he's so practical, even-keeled and clear headed (you know, everything I'm not. :) that that must have made some impact.
It also may have helped considerably that the guy Mrs. EyeFlutter had before me, owed a $50,000 or more overpayment and was trying to convince her that he was still disabled after making $150,000 last year. We must have looked like poor humble folk, when the most I might have made was $11,000. I did tell her that regardless of all that, and this is after she melted the issue away, we knew all along that we weren't going to backdown with my $20,000 situation and were going to take it all the way to the judicial level. She gave me the power to the people sign. No kidding!!
Tuesday, June 6, 2006
With today specifically being a day of ridiculous (060606)fascination, I post my most beautiful picture (that I have been saving) and the sentiment that it carries for me.
"May the Holy Spirit guide you, and be with you." I guess I pray it for myself.
I am tired and overwhelmed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I was shocked actually by how pretty I look. I have 'special' makeup that I bought off TV and it does a great job!
But back to being tired, woke up around the time all you Moms do, but that is
early for the Tart. So I attribute some of being out of it to that.
Overwhelmed because I tried practicing what the hell to say tomorrow and I don't know if I always look this much of a mental nut, but its not working. I could write the emotional moments of a screenplay, the crisis epitome moment to make a person cry, better than I can deal with this, I see that right now.
I am a living, breathing bottle of worry. I know why I haven't commented on your sites or enjoyed anything for the past two months. I subconciously and consciously worry about tomorrow, and the reality is they probably won't let it be over. I have so much anger now bottled that UT said she feels sorry for this woman, as she knows I have so much pent up anger. How stupid that they have kept it going like this, that it even took 4 years for them to tell me they want to keep on going with it. It is draining. I'm not trained at this, and I am not prepared for this despite trying to be so.
I now live to be a burden on society and whatever else, for the best revenge for me may be simply be living. If I can get a book deal a couple years down the road I hope to hear about some slit wrists at my local SS on CNN, I can tell you that. Life's no fun if I can't see how this eventually all turns out, so believe me, I wouldn't kill myself. I have always thought that behaviour a bit below myself, I mean don't actual normies feel that way as well?
Monday, June 5, 2006
Still time for Harry Carry or lotsa cigarettes smoked, Still No Cancer? or Why the Gov't is Pissed I refuse all the above and yet doth Live on.
Disappointment two: After manipulating the system, I finally got UT to call me, since she swore on her outgoing voicemail that she was out today, I immediately called the supervisor (11 years wading in bullshit allows me to know who that is by name) and explained my sad tale and that since my therapist is part-time I was sure she would not be in on Tuesday either and I would like to have some things out of my record, namely from 1996-1999, and I wondered if she could procure that for me. She was pleasant as usual and said she would call me back. Twenty minutes later, wouldn't you know it, UT was calling me!!! (Manipulation is all a part of the fight in this case. I love winning the little battles at this point.) My God that woman is more evasive than the lawyer, in terms of telling me that the record would not help (aren't you dying to know what's in there?), that she would be glad to write a letter but she can't use the word disability because County's term for that word and SS's is not the same. I'm thinking, "I don't give a crap if they coincide I want to use it the way me, her and the County think of it, but she was wily. I even got a, I only have 5 minutes here, Tart, so if you think of something in the next hour give me a call.
No record, as in no knowledge of what the hell is in store for me, and no record, UT won't give me what is mine, my 11 year long County record. Lazy f'n bastards. I wonder what would happen if it was their $20,000. Seriously.
Pity not, the Tart because I don't want to portray boo-hoo, I'd much rather kick ass, and I still am not sure what keeps me going sometimes. Being the beastly emotional creature that I am, I am left to try to analyze my emotions. I ask myself, "What do I feel?" or "What several emotions are happening?" I am amazed that the person with the mental health issues is being forced to defend herself, remember things from 10 years ago and be coherent and with no knowledge of what I'm really defending myself from, I believe Jimmy Stewart (Mr. Smith) would have some serious difficulties with this too. But I do have a force coming, Husband and my Mom. I think its safest to let them speak the most if I can get the evil eye off me and let them speak, for I have nothing but bile and anger over this whole thing. Husband's mom, (but not coming to this thing, oky?) get this, not only worked for SS but in the very same office, with the very same people. She knows Mrs. EyeFlutter! I can't recall it all, but she says under no circumstances give in and start talking how much money they can have. She also says this will probably haunt me until I actually start receiving retirement SS and this galls me so much. Seeing how long it takes them to process basic information one must ask themselves, "Are THEY mental midgets?" I am so angry that it overcomes fear (at least so far), because I just want to ask them if THIS is going to take another 10 years to process, and would they like me to help dislodge the thumb out of their their asshole?
So you see, I'm pretty consumed by this right now. Totally to be expected. Ever since I got the most recent letter in April it has all been building up to this. I have satisfaction in that I have not sat on my bottom and have tried to do something about it. I hate that I am given nothing to go on by the gov't, no scrap or clue on what the hell I can do to help myself. I hate this situation precisely because it seems to be pitting my intelligence, my main asset, against the illness and all of its legal blah blah, um not such an asset. By working I had hoped to beat the beast of my illness and the gov't legally begrudges me the chance it took me to discern that its not possible, at least not in the kind of world that exists in their minds. I'm not trying to wax poetic, I'm saying it like it is. What price working while disabled (yet with clear mind)? Apparently about 20,000.
Pray hard, Blogworld, 10 a.m. EST Wednesday, June 7. Don't let our government rape yet another innocent civilian. Mwanh!!
Saturday, June 3, 2006
What made me more than anything want to post recipes was taking pictures of them as I do them and it just seemed so fun. I think everyone can relate to disasters, whether having cheese blops from your nacho dip or a sink full of dishes that you can't deal with at that moment. I like to think that if you share those things, you make others feel better and know that we don't have to be so dang perfect all the time. At least, that is why I tried doing it. The kitchen's much better now, so if I ever post one of that it's only because I like to share miracles too.
I have a couple more recipes with pics if you want to see them, just let me know.
Why start a new blog of them when I can put them here, and my hobbies seem to change so I think I'm not ready for that. On a personal note, I think many things for me are in limbo until after the SS thing. I've have one continuous cold, icky something for weeks and I think I'm like our cat, its stress.
By the way, the gourgeous booger is Healthy!!! Unbelievably, every test has come back that he is fine. Moreover, you can see it in the way he acts: he's not so lethargic and he participates in his duties: eat, drink and poop! as well as walking around and being demanding! Yay!
Let's hope other aspects here at the Jungle go as well. Husband's coming with me to the Inquisition so if I lose it, perhaps he can pick up the ball. Love to all,
I considered after everything if I should have melted less than the entire box of Velveeta but I recall my friend making the whole thing, so I recommend the same.
Fabulous Movie Watchin' Cheese Dip Recipe
1 entire large box of Velveeta process cheese (let yourself go, you're watchin' a movie!)
1 can of Hormel chili, no beans
1 bottle of salsa (Chi-chi's mild is good)
2 cans of corn
Melt that whole Velveeta chunk o' cheese in a large Corningware container (or a microwavable bowl of good size that will be able to handle all of these ingredients) in the microwave. It is helpful to cut it into smaller chunks, keeping it all together in the bowl for better melting. You can put it in for 10 minutes but stop it every 2 minutes or so and KEEP STIRRING (this is the key in not creating your own documentable disaster!). Continue to check and stir your cheese until it smoothes and takes on a 'nacho look' (meaning melted cheese), now add the chili, the entire can, again stirring every 2 to 3 minutes. It's really starting to look like nacho dip after 5-10 minutes or so, be sure to look and check consistency. Add salsa, microwave and stir every couple of minutes like above, and finally the corn. You don't want to forget the corn because well its important to the darn recipe okay! Not the same without it!
And that's it folks! You have enough dip to couple with tortilla chips for the whole family or if it's just for you, refrigerate after use. I was able to dip for three different home movie dates!
My first "Documented Disaster!"
What it looks like as I added the corn
Nobody's perfect! And this had nothing to do with my nacho dip! Doesn't that make you feel better?