A Swift Kick & A Band-Aid

Nite Nite Kitty

Part of me is relieved today. The curse of threes is complete.

My kitty was put to sleep last night as my mom held him. He lived to be almost a full 18 years old ... and from an alley cat beginning too, literally.

My mom found him in the alley behind her office one day. The staff had gone to treat a medical emergency in the alley and she noticed him afterward. The doctor that lived across the alley said he had been hanging around lately. She took him and put him on the doctor's porch out of harms way. The little kitten was still sitting right where she left him when she went to go home.

I still remember naming him when I was only a girl. My mom brought home the tiny tabby in a cardboard box. I had just seen The Land Before Time and wanted to name him after the lost little dinosaur with no family, Little Foot. The name did always feel right for him. He was an adventurer, a survivor, curious, and full of love. He was never a stereotypical snob cat. He didn't like to be held, but he would rub on you and nuzzle with you for hours.

Always the cat that wanted to try to run outside, to find something new and interesting, he got himself and the others in a bit of trouble from time to time. They never had his spirit though - too scared to really venture out and too timid to know what to do in their new surroundings when they did.

Before the divorce, he had our German Shepard to count on when he managed to get out without us noticing. They'd be curled up sleeping together in the morning, her keeping him warm in the cold desert night. Later, he had to fend for himself when he got out. Gone missing for an entire week, he managed to do just that. No claws, in coyote country, vulnerable to birds of prey, and still he managed to come back in one piece without a scratch.

The doctors told us he should have been dead two years ago, that he would never make it once he left the hospital, but he went on living his laid back, sweet ways and proved them wrong. He had his ups and downs since then, but he had a good run of it.

I will never forget the way he would squeek to meow or the way he would reach his paw out as far as he could and tap your leg to remind you that he was there. Now I will have a plaster mold of his paw print to always remind me instead.

There’s A Hole In The World Today

A strong woman turned into a quivering voice on the other end of the phone, “He is too weak to move.”

Focused sirens intent on their task disrupted my quiet neighborhood.

She didn’t know what to do, “I always said when he lost his dignity …”

Three stretch limos rolled by.

Mom called this morning with the strength to talk about my cat, at first. Somewhere about half way through the conversation the woman in pain, the woman losing her only companion since being walked out on 8 years ago, came through. Her heart was breaking and she could not hide it any longer.

My cat will die this week. I have no choice. He will die. She will never be sure she did the right thing, no matter how he dies. The ache of self-doubt will haunt her with every piece of his life she puts away to stop the reminders of what will not be. The silence of her empty house will be enough to make her ears bleed.

I have been prepared for two years to say goodbye to him, but I am not ready for this to be his week. My mom is not ready for this to be his week. She is not ready to lose the last piece of the family she built, the family she still dreams about and will never have.

The passengers in motorcade that drove by must be feeling something of the same things. Three stretch limos and no less than five other vehicles with their hazards on followed the ominous black hearse as it drove by. Did they get to say goodbye? Did their loved one have a good life? Do they doubt themselves and what they could have done? How will they fill the hole that is left? Will they be able to mend their broken hearts?

Desperate tears seeking guidance are falling across the world today.

In moments like these, I can’t help but be convinced that empaths are real. I am covered in a heavy cloud of thoughts and emotions that are not my own. I am crying the tears my mother has put away so that she can go to work. I am aching to hug the people that drove by and tell them that I understand. I am praying for rain. I am praying for a long, heavy, downpour of rain – the kind of rain that you cannot feel until you have been soaked to the bone and a still peace has been brought to your core.

Dear God, please let the rain find those hearts that so badly need a rest. Please, let them find their peace. Please … just rain …

You'll Wish You Never Ever Met Her At All

I cannot explain what happened ... all I know is, I have no interest in any part of the island of Jamaica right now. A single night at a local restaurant and I may never eat Caribbean food again.

...It had to have been the shrimp...

Not 10 minutes outside the restaurant and I knew ... the rest of the night would be a struggle to keep from seeing dinner again.

So far, I am winning the battle ... by a hair ...

ugh

What Did You Expect From Me?

Today has accidentally become bathroom cleaning day ... and I don't mean scrubbing the toilet, bleaching the grout kind of cleaning. I've gotten the wild hair to try to empty some of the junk out of there.

I have come across make up I haven't worn in a good five years. There are tiny lotions from resorts of long ago where I told myself I'd go home and order a bottle of the fantastic stuff, but never did. There are just things I held onto when I came out to DC thinking, "I might need this." (I really must remove that sentence from my vocabulary.) I think it is safe to toss these lovelies. Are they worth donating after all these years?

When I look at some of the makeup, I can't believe I ever wore it. I have lipsticks that are nothing short of goth. I was a young, little plaything for an older man back then. He liked to have me paint my face up like some kind of alabaster, gothic china doll. I think back on that phase of my life and have more questions than answers for so many things ... but that is a discussion for another day.

If anyone has any idea on what to do with an ancient, dust covered girl-fest, let me know. Otherwise, I will enjoy the satisfaction of a quickly filling trash can.

Everything Just Fell Apart

If you thought I hated my landlord before ...

One - My oven has been out of commission for a good several weeks and there is no promise of it being fixed anytime soon. How is a domestic diva to do any baking or food making under these conditions????

Two - When I asked about the light fixure dangling by its wiring above my bed (take note that my landlord caused this damage himself) something he said was, "I was under the impression that you were ok with that." Seriously? Who thinks that?

Three - My A/C is out for the second summer in a row. The temp on the thermostat does not move, the airflow from the vents is practically nil. I went out to the storage closet where our unit is to figure out the problem today and found it was not the icebox it usually is (gotta love inefficiency, right?). I felt the duct work, most of it was chilled but a portion was freezing. I checked the filter - it had wet spots on it. Great. The A/C had frozen up and I spent the day thawing it out. See what happens when you fix things on the cheap? They break again ... soonly ...

The kicker? He's been on a business trip for the last month (with his car parked at my house ... the jackass) ... in CHINA! And he won't be back until after Labor Day. It took him two weeks to get the A/C fixed last summer when he wasn't just getting back from a business trip. Shouldn't people like this have a management company running their property?

I can honestly say I've never had such a lazy, cheap landlord. Anyone know the point at which I can start deducting money from my rent for his lack of upkeep?

Stain Removal 101

I have not quite managed to wrestle myself out of the college mentality of letting the laundry pile up until you're out of clean underwear (and trust me ... I have a lot of underwear). My stains sit unattended for days sometimes. Much the way Tammi was noting hers do. I, however, have a much cheaper laundry solution ...

1) ALWAYS treat a stain from the "wrong" side. NEVER treat the stain on the side of the clothing where you got it (generally the outside on the "right" side of the fabric). Scrubbing from the stain side just pushes the stain farther into the fibers ... this is how you end up with the stain almost gone, but not quite.

2) Use ice. No joke - plain, simple, right out of the freezer ice cubes. I have used this technique to remove blue frosting and blood from light colored clothing. I am confident that it will work on most any stain that is water soluble. You may be a little screwed on grease or oil with this technique - I haven't tried it - but there are other simple solutions for those as well. In order to treat stains with ice, use the following steps:

-- run two ice cubes from your freezer under water, just to get them wet & better prepped to melt

-- place one ice cube flat on top of the stain (on the "right" side) using the largest flat surface the piece of ice has

-- gather up the fabric surrounding the stain and trap the previously placed ice cube in a little pocket so that the "wrong" side of the stain is now exposed

-- using circular motions, "scrub" out the stain with a corner or edge of the second ice cube. The first ice cube will provide a hard flat surface for you to scrub against. The ice will melt as you scrub so use a new corner/edge when one goes dull. Just keep going until the stain is gone.

A word of caution though - good lighting is important for this stain removal technique because stains often get harder to see as they lighten and the fabric darkens from being wet.

Over the years, using a variety of techniques, I've managed to get out almost every stain I've come across - including auto grease and gum. But once you put them in the dryer, you're almost assuredly screwed.

This concludes today's lesson in stain removal. Happy laundering!

These Boots Were Made For Walkin

I'm looking to take the blog mobile ... any techies out there have recommendations on wireless networking? I need a card and a router ...

What are your thoughts on important technology/features/brand???

Credit Card Bandits

I got a voicemail from my credit card company today asking me to call them in response to a security concern. They left a number and told me which prompts to follow, and that any agent at that point could help me.

I checked my account and didn't see anything wrong. But still I was nervous.

As well I should have been. When I called, they told me that there were two charges made today that seemed out of place. One was to a grocery store, the other for some kind of needlework ...

... In BRAZIL ...

Yeah, I call those charges fully out of place. I've never been to South America, let alone Brazil.

So I'll spend the next 7 to 10 days without my Mastercard. Thank God I have a back up.

The oddest part, I can't quite bring myself to shred the gold little thing ... I've memorized the poor numbers with the black worn off ... it would be like killing one of my oldest stuffed animals. It has been such a good card to me ...

Mean Blogging Girls

Some days, other female bloggers just irk me so badly I want to quit blogging completely. The rampant immaturity and mean girl behavior is abhorrant!

You know the ones I'm talking about ... they form their little clubs and alliances and then they go after whoever they don't like that week. And for what reason? The other woman is prettier? skinnier? smarter? younger? she has more hits? It's like high school on the internet!! Do they somehow think this is geeks revenge? Or fat girl payback? The nerds have finally found a social group large enough to be their very own gang ... how cute!

Let me tell you, I was not only a geek in high school but I was also a fat girl. I got made fun of left and right. One year I was the pet joke of the entire Varsity Basketball team. It was awful being a victim, I refuse to be a participant. And I refuse to be friends with people that find it acceptable.

If you don't think its real, just go to a blogmeet. Watch how the women act. The majority of them will strut like they are the Queen Bee. The ones that don't get treated that way will be precisely the ones that blame the other women for it. The gossip will start, the readerships will shift, and some women won't get invited back again ... you guessed it, the nice ones, the fun ones, and the pretty ones. I guess these are the same women that only hang out with friends uglier than they are so they can be the best looking one of the bunch.

These women - and you know who you are - should be ashamed of themselves. Grown women acting with as much sense as their children, if that much. If you're going to hate on someone, do it for a legitimate reason. Call her out for lying on her blog or for being a bitch to one of your friends instead of this "I just don't like her" crap. Its a blog. If you don't like it, click the X and get some therapy if you can't move on.

Next time, try being comfortable with accepting yourself (and being honest on your blog ... we've seen the avatars ... not even close!) instead of trying to drag someone else down. And if you just can't make it through the day without calling someone a bitch, go stand in the mirror for a while. I'm sure you'll find someone fully deserving of your label.

Don't Worry Little Doggie ... Someday, You'll Get Sold Too

My interview today was ... unconventional, shall we say ...

It was a good chat, but very little interview. We told stories, but I found it hard to fit my sales pitch into the mix. I have no idea if a position will come out of it or not.

So I am again left feeling like grad school prepared me very little for the job market. I am able to perform like a trained monkey for 2 years - this time that skill yielded a piece of paper (that I have yet to see btw) ... fantastic.

I am a highly skilled dynamo ... on paper.

I am even more highly skilled in real life. Give me a job, I'll almost assuredly figure out how to do it and do it damn well. I'm nothing if I'm not impressive when I put my mind to something.

So what happened to make the job market feel so narrow?

Take Back Your Superpower! I Want A New One!

I hate being aware
I hate being able to "read"
I hate being able to see the psychology behind actions

There is nothing I can do to change the situations. No matter how much I scream inside, no matter how much I calmly explain what is going on, the outcome is the same. Vicious cycles of self-destruct and pain go on, unhindered ... waiting to spiral out of control.

People don't want to know they are being read. People want to believe that they are above basic behavioral psychology and complicated enough to be unexplainable.

They usually aren't.

Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances to explain behavior that are not outwardly visible, but for the most part ... people are people. They are motivated by generally similar and basic things, they make decisions in fairly simple and repeatable ways. Unfortunately, the drive for certain needs yields a retardation of the normal processes and people develop "issues" they again don't want to admit exist.

I want so desperately to put people behind my eyes, to save them from themselves, to hold their hand in a new direction ... but I can't.

Despite my own shortcomings and flaws, there are some things you just know you are right about. This is mine.

I want a new thing to be right about. This superpower sucks!

County Scholars

I got a jury questionnaire last week. UGH.

I filled it out today, signed it, folded it back up, filled in my return address on the envelope, put the questionnaire inside ... and it doesn't fit.

The morons down at the county pre-folded my questionnaire so that it is too tall to fit in the envelope.

Get with the program here people!!

One of The Most Reproduced Photographs

The man who captured fantastic iconic patriotism, determination, and pride that will live on for ages is gone.

Joe Rosenthal, the photographer who shot the Iwo Jima Flag-raising, dies at 94.

The Iwo Jima statue in Arlington, Virginia has always been one of my favorite. It has touched and inspired me in ways not much else ever could.

No matter how many times I visit the statue or look at a picture taken from Mr. Rosenthal's photo, in my mind's eye, that chance photograph represents everything America stands for. My heart feels the struggle, the teamwork, the survival, the courage, and the duty that those men, symbols for many more, carried with them. And I am proud.

Just When I Think I'm Invincible ...

The screen as gotten a pretty blurry today. I've reached some kind of threshold, I guess ... the tears just won't stop falling on this subject. I have a good job at a very people friendly company with good bosses practically being handed to me ... the catch? A commute of 2 hours, minimum ... each way. For the normal person, 30 minutes. So it is probably time to "confess" ...

As strong and accomplished as I may be ... as confident and capable as I have proven myself ... I am paralyzed in life. I have been for about a decade now. I try my best to keep it a secret from people for as long as I possibly can, but what was once fear has become a phobia.

I will not drive. I have never had a driver's license.

I have watched it take away my youthful adventures in high school, limit my college experiences, ruin relationships, hinder friendships, complicate family gatherings, destroy job opportunities, remove all hope of real independence, and leave me fairly isolated in the world.

But still, I will not drive.

People tell me that when it is inconvenient enough, the need to drive will supersede the fear causing me to avoid it. Or others say, when I am ready, it will happen. Talk like that just makes the pain worse. It is terribly inconvenient and how helpless am I to become before I am "ready" ??

But crying doesn't earn a license.

I have taken driving lessons, driven a neon, a jeep, a mini-van, a truck, and an SUV ... sometimes illegally without anyone else in the vehicle. I can physically perform the task - so long as the panic doesn't take hold.

And yet, I will not drive.

I can look myself in the mirror and know it is irrational. There is no cause, there is no reason ... My fears took hold long before I was in an accident or I lost my grandmother to the drunk driver. But even when I wasn't the driver and no one was seriously hurt, I was crying enough and my heart was racing so badly after the one accident that they had to put me on a monitor in the ambulance. I felt so stupid.

I end up feeling too crazy to drive.

When people find out I don't drive, I am embarrassed. When special arrangements have to be made on my behalf, I am humiliated. When people ask about it, I try to make the answer as brief as possible and change the subject; if I don't, I break down in tears.

I only avoid driving more.

It may not seem like it has the ability to control my life, but it does ... in every aspect, even the most basic ones. I cannot buy soda at the grocery store alone if I plan to buy much of anything else - I have to carry it home. I cannot go to multiple stores at a time because I do not have a vehicle to put my purchases in as I go along. I cannot buy ingredients my local store doesn't carry, unless someone else wants to take me. It limits where I can live, where I can work, places I can go, events I can attend, travel plans, etc.

I see the restrictions. I feel the pain. I wear the shame.

But how do you conquer a phobia that has gained such a firm grasp?

Girl Fest Continues

As promised ...

The haircare products (much fewer of these):

The infamous lotions ...

And finally, by AWTM's request, the body wash/exfolliants/random skin care products:

If only you people knew how small my bathroom really was, you'd be AMAZED that I fit all this crap in there. And that's not even touching the contacts, make up, hair accessories, or nail products.

You Make Me Feel Out Of My Element

Some days, I wonder how it got so girly in here ...

I have 13 bottles of shampoo

(only 11 are pictured because I forgot about the other 2)

I have 15 bottles of conditioner

And I'm the only one using them. No roommates to share with or anything like that.

Can anyone beat those numbers?

Next up, more hair care products ... and lotions ...

Pretty Princess ... By The Numbers

Thanks to T1G, my personality by numerology:

There are 22 letters in your name.
Those 22 letters total to 94
There are 8 vowels and 14 consonants in your name.

Your number is: 4

The characteristics of #4 are: A foundation, order, service, struggle against limits, steady growth.

The expression or destiny for #4:
Order, service, and management are the cornerstones of the number 4 Expression. Your destiny is to express wonderful organization skills with your ever practical, down-to-earth approach. You are the kind of person who is always willing to work those long, hard hours to push a project through to completion. A patience with detail allows you to become expert in fields such as building, engineering, and all forms of craftsmanship. Your abilities to write and teach may lean toward the more technical and detailed. In the arts, music will likely be your choice. Artistic talents may also appear in such fields as horiculture and floral arrangement, as well. Many skilled physicians and especially surgeons have the 4 Expression.

The positive attitudes of the 4 Expression yield responsibility; you are one who no doubt, fulfills obligations, and is highly systematic and orderly. You are serious and sincere, honest and faithful. It is your role to help and you are required to do a good job at everything you undertake.

If there is too much 4 energies present in your makeup, you may express some of the negative attitudes of the number 4. The obligations that you face may tend to create frustration and feelings of limitation or restriction. You may sometimes find yourself nursing negative attitudes in this regard and these can keep you in a rather low mood. Avoid becoming too rigid, stubborn, dogmatic, and fixed in your opinions. You may have a tendency to develop and hold very strong likes and dislikes, and some of these may border on the classification of prejudice. The negative side of 4 often produces dominant and bossy individuals who use disciplinarian to an excess. These tendencies must be avoided. Finally, like nearly all with 4 Expression, you must keep your eye on the big picture and not get overly wrapped up in detail and routine.

Your Soul Urge number is: 5

A Soul Urge number of 5 means:
The 5 soul urge or motivation would like to follow a life of freedom, excitement, adventure and unexpected happening. The idea of travel and freedom to roam intrigues you. You are very much the adventurer at heart. Not particularly concerned about your future or about getting ahead, you can seem superficial and unmotivated.

In a positive sense, the energies of the number 5 make you very adaptable and versatile. You have a natural resourcefulness and enthusiasm that may mark you as a progressive with a good mind and active imagination. You seem to have a natural inclination to be a pace-setter. You are attracted to the unusual and the fast paced.

You may be overly restless and impatient at times. You may dislike the routine work that you are engaged in, and tend to jump from activity to activity, without ever finishing anything. You may have difficulty with responsibility. You don't want to be tied down to a relationship, and it may be hard to commit to one person.

Your Inner Dream number is: 8

An Inner Dream number of 8 means:
You dream of success in the business or political world, of power and control of large material endeavors. You crave authority and recognition of executive skills. Your secret self may have very strong desire to become an entrepreneur.

Who Snuck the Pr0n In??

I got an email not too long ago from a local blogger letting me know that one of my "Good Reads" had directed him to a she-male pr0n site. When I linked it, it was a housewife telling of her tales with cooking and legos. My how times change when you're not paying attention.

Today, I click another of the links and found myself looking at a girl in many (some bizzare) nude poses. Another of my links changed while I wasn't looking.

I think its time to clean up the blogroll a little ....

Toe-Blogging

I think it is the not working that has me in such a funk. Too much time, not enough order. Sure, there are chores to be done, projects to be completed ... but there are no deadlines, no structure, no pressing need.

It has left me in need of a pedicure.

Who wouldn't feel better with cute toes like these?

Now to find a shop that can replicate my floral San Diego cuteness...

Update: My sock-less cohort in up to a little monkey business of her own

When The Stars Go Blue

I just don't want to blog.

I'm in a bloggy funk.

I just don't want to read.

I'm a bloggy grump.

Allow Me To Preach To The Choir

Need I say more?
Thank you John Mayer.

I wish I'd had his CD back during my conversation with the lady falling from paradise ... it might have been effective ...

You Are So Beautifully Out Of Place

RSM got me to thinking about that pain that comes from within - those ones we all try our best to overcome, kick dirt on, or ignore - you know the ones ... self-doubt, insecurity, fear of not finding a place to belong ...

There are periods in my life where I feel like I'll never stop facing them. And there are points in my life where I let them dampen my experiences. But then there are also moments where I realize how I have held myself back with these pains and I try to be more aware.

Since moving out East, I've gotten a lot of the "you're not from here, are you?" from locals and transplants from long ago. Sometimes it makes me just a tad bit paranoid, thinking everyone thinks I don't belong.

On my bad days, I get down about it ... I let myself think I am the problem. I sit and wonder if I am just a freak that can't connect.

On my good days, I think to myself Hell no, I'm not from here. Thank God! But the place might not be half bad if people with manners and the ability to care lived here instead of people like you. And then to calm the bitterness, I think of someone else saying to me, "My, you are so beautifully out of place."

I don't think the pains will ever go away, for anyone. Somehow, I think they are the evil check on an out of control ego and arrogance run wild. The pains are normal. I think it is the ones that don't feel the pain that are the ones with the problem. Maybe they are naive, or emotionally insincere, or just plain stupid ... but they just aren't normal in my book.

But when it is an especially doubt-filled day where the pain seems to be the only thing you can feel, don't forget to sing to yourself these wonderful words:

Every Vote Counts

To anyone that lives in Platte County, MO ...

I implore you to vote in your local elections today.

Please

You Just Took A Fall From Paradise

How is it that they very same people that tell you they don't watch the news are the same people that want to tell you what's wrong with the world?

I tried my best to be non-confrontational with this woman, but I deserve a medal for doing it ... this woman was fiercely persistant in her absolute ignorance.

She told me all about how oil companies should be doing business and conducting themselves in a more environmentally manner, but has no idea where U.S. oil is imported from and drives an SUV (because it was cheap).

She stood firmly against Bush and the war in Iraq, using her father's negative experience returning home from Vietnam as her reasoning, but has not sought out a single positive story or made an effort to help a service member returning home.

She advocated coalition action in the world, and then asked what the U.N. was all about.

She railed on the corruption and incompetance of politicians, but couldn't name a single one that represented her.

She informed me on everything she felt was wrong with schools today, but didn't know what school system she lived in.

I tell you what lady, if ignorance is bliss ... you just took a fall from paradise.

Letting The Days Go By

My trip up to the bizzare state of Penn went really well. I say bizzare because they don't seem to have heard of so many seemingly normal and useful things ... such as, radio ... toilet seat covers ... or water balloons. WTF? Personally, I blame the Dutch.

The drive was much shorter than anticipated, both coming and going. That didn't stop me from getting antsy, achey, and overall stir crazy (as my CD collection rather blows and someone has failed to send their XM receiver down to me) but still ... better to feel that way for as little time as possible.

Here are pics of the men I went all that way to see:

Little Man T (4 m/o)

Big Man D, the birthday boy (2 y/o) **

It was a good time with the extended family. No drama. No death. Lots of laughs. Children playing. Plenty of food I had no business eating (and it was YUMMY!). I just may adopt them as my more immediate family for a while.

**Yes, that is a mohawk he's sportin in the pic ... or as he calls it a "ho-hawk." It was even dyed blue the day I arrived.

I May Not Need One, But I'm Off To Meet One

That's right, I may not need a man but I'm off to meet one anyway ... sort of.

I'll be gone all weekend celebrating my little cousin's second birthday and meeting his little brother for the first time.

Ya'll be good now, ya hear?

I Don't Need A Man

Or at least that's what the Pussycat Dolls are chanting these days. Not that they are the only ones, they just happened to be the ones I was listening to when this post popped into my head.

I get the idea behind these songs, women are strong. We can do things for ourselves and be happy with our own accomplishments. Honestly, I didn't need a song to remind me of that.

But I still think they are wrong...

I do need a man ... not because he said so or anyone else told me I to, but because I said so. Why's that, you ask? Because I can have my own job, make my own money, buy my own things, make the majority of my own repairs on things, or not get taken for a ride by the mechanic and never once think that if I were with a man that things would be any different. My identity does not lie in some popularly trumped up feminist notion of independence.

I may not need a man, per se, but I am definitely not part of the feminist cadre that claims my world should function equally as well without one. The world I want for myself, my future, is one with a partner - a man. If that means I need a man, and that is just socially uncool, so be it. I will happily be branded an outcast.

If you ask me, these lyrics are breeding bitches, not strong women. Not to mention rationalizing the immaturity that they live in by telling them it is ok to bail and jump in bed with his best friend for a few weeks when he doesn't fall to every whim.

Today Is Where Your Book Begins

I couldn't tell you what made me pick up the phone today - as opposed to tomorrow, yesterday, or last week - but I finally did.

I called my local USO.

The director is on vacation so I'll have to wait a bit before getting my feet wet as a volunteer, but it is about time I spent my days doing something more useful.

And last week, I got someone who thought he didn't belong to join the local VFW post and see that he could be part of something that helps so many.

There are so many things I could have done or ways I could have helped in the past, but dwelling on them won't help me or anyone else. Instead, I will build a future I want to be a part of starting from each day I am given.

I will make a difference, one day at a time, one encounter at a time.
I will be the change I hope to see in the world.
I am a volunteer.

I Can't Take This Mediocrity

First of all, I accept full responsibility for not being better at setting the money aside that I knew would eventually come due, but ...

I'm about to kick my landlord in the shins

He sent an email today asking me to pony up $3079.14. Not the pair of us that live here, me. Oh, but I can do half now and the rest in 3 monthly payments. HA! I don't think so. Has this guy gone certifiably insane?

Let me reiterate here dude: A failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part. Got it?

For the more than a year - yes I said YEAR ... as in a full 12 flips of the calendar pages and then some - he has failed to bill us for utilities. Utilities which I think are too high, might I add. But lack of upkeep has a way of doing that to your heating and cooling bills. So now that he's gotten around to sending me an email, I'm supposed to pay utilities for July 05 through May 06.

And how long will I have to wait to be billed for the other two summer months that have gone by but you were too lazy to include? Apparently another year at this rate.

On top of that, he's trying to get August rent from me from a year ago. I wrote the check, he lost the check. So now you want me to pay double rent for August of this year to make up for your mistake? I'm not the one that lost the check, sounds like it should be when it is convenient for me to replace the check since you created the inconvenience.

This guy thinks I need to be jumping right on paying him but where was he when my fan needed to be fixed? Too busy, its still broken more than 6 months later. Where was he when we started getting water damage from the heavy rains? Who knows, he didn't answer his email. Where is he on fixing the leaking doors and windows? To cheap, I'm sure. And the rotting seal around the kitchen sink? He'll let it fall through the counter before he does a thing, no doubt.

Once money gets involved, people just suck. UGH