December 27, 2023

 SO it's been a few days since I last posted.  I didn't forget, I just wasn't interested in sitting at my computer...

Ive lost count of how any days off Facebook It's been but I still don't miss it and I'm kinda wondering if I'm even going to go back.  It just seems like a big bother.  I'm neither happier or sadder... I just am.

Now onto news.  

Christmas happened.  You know that song that goes Beas greens potatoes tomatoes etc?  Yeh, that was my house. we had:

• Baked Turkey
• Baked Chicken
• Grilled/baked ribs
• Ham
• Sweet potato pie
• apple pie
• Collard greens
• baked potatoes
• mashed potatoes
• caramel cakeYellow cake (mine)
• cornbread
• rolls

I honestly feel like I'm leaving something out but we had a lot... and very little left over.  You know how Jonny Depp keeps asking why the rums gone in POC?  That was me..... Why's the food gone?  But we had a lot of people over.  And three people got to go plates.  Auntie pat came.  It was a great night.  We had a lot of fun.  And the next day, the sky fell down.

No like.. literally.  We got over five inches of rain.  Belmont is STILL under a flood warning because their sewer system sucks.  Its been a whole day of not rain and the water in the river that separates Belmont from Charlotte that was dangerously low is touching the bottom of the damn bridge.  There's a dip in the road near Sam Wilson Road on Wilkinson and that shit was a lake.  Im not even kidding.  There's a whole ass pipe that supposed to drain all that water from this very recognized dip into like this valley but did it do its job?  Nope.  At some point it did because the road drained but I think that's because someone came and did it manually.

I feel sorry for the homeless because dude, every single place that the cops normally don't bother them was ad partially still is under water or so wet it's marshland.

I wish I was kidding.

Side note, I'm watching Frozen for like the nine hundredth time... Did no one notice that they just left Kristoff and Sven at the lake?  Like uhm... sirs... you bought a kid with you and said child was not with you when you got home.... maybe start a search...?

Anyway.  In other news, my mother was right again.  And I hate it.

So the heat has been slowly diminishing in my car for like three months.  Maybe more. At first it wasn't a big deal because I live in North Carolina.  It's like perpetually warm.  If you can get past the winter months first thing in the morning, it's pretty much hot by noon.  So yeah it was a concern but not a big one.  Then it was only hot when I was going 85 mph down the highway, and the these last two or three weeks, I have had nothing but cold air.  Not even warm enough to do Lyft, so I've been doing door dash.  At least the only person catching pneumonia in my car is me.

We're up here googling like we know what the fuck we're looking at and come up with like four things it could be.  And we figured it was the midrange price wise thing and we were prepared to get car shield and all that and put my car in for servicing.  I got hoodies and padded leggings for Christmas so that I could keep working and not catch my death of cold.  Then out of nowhere, not only do I not have heat, this fucker wants to randomly start overheating.  Not all the time and really for like two minutes every four days.  And Mommy, again OUT OF NOWHERE says, go get a ting of coolant and put in your car.  The first day, I ignored her, the next day I fobbed her off, the third time she mentioned it, I flat out lied that I went and got it and put it in.  Tonight, this damn hunk of wheels and bolts does the bing bing bing overheating song and I'm like, I'm right here at Walmart, let me get this damn coolant.

Y'all, my coolant reservoir was so damn dry that shit had COBWEBS.  I quite literally heard my car go AHHHHH when I filled the reservoir.

And then I turned the car on and do you know that raggedy piece of wheels nuts and bolts had fucking heat???  Like, I'm sitting here in padded leggings, a long sleeve shirt and an extra plush hoodie burning the fuck up because now my car wants to work like a functioning car and I'm like oh no you didn't.

SO then I had to fess up to my mom.  She's like I'm gonna beat you.

Fun fact. I don't have to outrun my mom anymore... I just have to go two feet farther than her oxygen hose and she just put the short one back on because the long one was getting tangled.  So I basically just have to get past the living room and Im home free unless she chucks that one, gets to the laundry room, and puts THAT oxygen on.  If she can do that, I'm screwed unless I can get around her and get back to the other side of the house.  I figure it, I can do that, after getting down to my end of the house and getting back to her end, she'll give up.

I'm evil.

Oh!  I almost forgot the most important part. WE GOT A PUPPY!!!!!

I was doing door dash and I got an order for the PetsMart right down from the house and I was like I really don't wanna do a dash in gastonia but it was nine bucks so I took it.  I get there and the worker lady is outside holding this whining ball of black fur with the most adorable eyes you've ever seen and I'm like can I just hold him.  She says yes but before she can actually hand him over, little man jumps out of her arms and into mine like Pikachu, I choose you! Licks ensued.  

His name is Vishous Rhage But we call him Rhage.  He's named after my two favorite Brothers from the Black Dagger Brotherhood.  Petsmart says he's a pitta lab mix but the way he howls id say he has some husky in him.  But get this.  Someone dumped him in the bushes.  That's how he came to be at petsmart. I hope they burn in hell.  This little guy is on'y about 5-6 weeks and he's as big now as Luna was when she was six months old.  He's gonna be a big dog.

HE's not even my dog.  I wanted him to be my dog but he's Livy's dog.  All the animals in the world belong to Livy.  It's fine.  It's totally fine.

Okay well, that's all my news.  And I'm tired so I'm gonna call it a night.

Night loves!!

December 17, 2023

 I didn't do jack shit today.

I mean, I did my nails and watched Wonder Woman.  Did a load of laundry then made pancakes and bacon for dinner.

Took a shit.

That literally sums up my day.

Oh! I watched the first season of the First Wives Club on Netflix.  Love me some Jill Scott.  Have since she whacked that uppity shit in the back of the head with the bottle in Why did I get married. Michelle Banteau is kinda funny too. She hosts the Circle on Netflix and she was the MC in that survival of the thickest I watched last ... well I was gonna say last week but that was like four days ago.

Shit.

The baby turns 22 in a day. 

Yes.  Yes 22 is still playing relentlessly in my head.

The middle minion is on the train. At this precise moment, she's in Greensboro NC.  112 miles away.  I briefly toyed with staying up to go get her from the train station but that'll be at three am. I love my child but I need Amtrak to do better. I took that very same train down to Charlotte from NJ 26... oh god old moment... years ago and I remember damn well that that train got in at a reasonable hour but now 26...oh god damn I feel old... years later that bitch wanna roll in like a WYD booty call at three am... DO  BETTER. AMTRAK!

I'm doing pretty good at remembering to do this every night.  

Why does Netflix pretend like that twatwaffle Meghan Markle is the reason Suits was popular??  Ugh... I can't stand her and Cuntmilla. Now watch me finally be able to move to England and be one of her loyal subjects. Snort.

My head hurts.  I'm about to fall in to bed and give my pillow some head.

Snort... like I remember how to give head.  It's been way too long.

I think I need therapy y'all.  I'm cracking up. Well not that's not true I was cracked years ago. Now I'm broken and laughing at my own bad jokes.

Snort!

Groan.  Help me

Also I think my keyboard is dying. Poop.

Okay, I'm really signing off now.  Night!

December 16, 2023

 Is this Day three of Facecrack?  I've kinda lost count.  I don't wake up and it's the first thing I check.  One person outside from the six I've told has noticed.  They texted me and asked if I'd blocked them.  I don't block anyone.  Well, that's not entirely true but you have to do a lot for me to click that button.

Had a very interesting Lyft night.

Also had my first contract violation with them but it was taken off pretty quickly.  I went to go pick up a Lyft ride in Gastonia and the older lady, her son, Daughter, and grandson get in the car.  Now, my screen says I'm picking them up taking them just outside of McAdenville and taking them home.  Before I can even question how asinine that sounds to me, the older woman says to one of the younger adults that they're going to have to wake up the grandson because he's going to miss the lights.  Big honking screeching sound in my heads.  Wait a minute.... Your stop is the McAdenville lights???  And she says yes.  With a dead ass straight face this ditzy ass white woman looks me in the eye and tells me that they've books a Lyft to go through McAdenville to see the lights.  I told her no and that I was cancelling the ride.  Now the young man, (I'm assuming was her son in law because the girl looked a bit ike her and had the same clueless why is this lady mad face as her mother.) looks like he wants to say "see, I told you this was a shitty idea."  and he starts to get back out holding the still thankfully sleeping little boy.  Mom is angry.  Why won't I take them to see the lights?

Now if it had been a Monday thru Thursday I would probably have not had as big a deal with this run but Saturday night at 7 pm, the line just to get into McAdenville is about a one to two hour wait.  Then you can't really get through it speedily because the normal 25 mph speed limit is kinda reduced to like 2 because people want to see everything.  So picking them up at 7, we might have gotten into the lights around 8 maybe 8:30 gotten through them by 8:45-9:15 and then back to the house.  So looking at a minimum of about two hours with this family in my car.

For $13.09.  Oh no, you don't need to go back and read that again.  The whole trip would have paid me $13.09.  See when you add a stop to a Lyft, I'm supposed to get there, wait up to 5 minutes and then continue on.  If this had been a normal Lyft that whole trip might have taken 20 minutes but nooooooo they want to catch a Lyft to see the lights.  Not a Lyft to get out and walk the lights and call a Lyft on the other side, not they wanted me to take them through the lights.  No. No.  Nah.  Hell no.

She called Lyft and complained.  But I beat her to the punch because the moment I drove off I was on the phone with customer service and they guy was like why did you cancel the stop was approximately five or somewhat miles from the start and destination.  While he's talking to me, her complaint comes through.  She emailed it in.  She told them I flat out refused to take them anywhere.  I don't think she gave a reason just that I refused.  So now, I'm explaining to the operator and the very best thing I can tell him is of he had google he'd understand.  But I did tell him that they didn't want an actual stop stop, she wanted her "stop" to be going through this three miles town at two freaking miles per hour.  Now I don't know if he googled it or what but he put me on hold and came back less than two minutes later and said not to worry about it, they were going to handle this and it wouldn't affect me.

Also, not sure if I mentioned it last night, but my heat is busted in my car so Mommy bought me a little dashboard heater.  It was working really well, and then it wasn't.  I thought I blew a fuse because the whole cigarette outlet is toast now.  I stopped by Auto Zone today and pulled the "Im a woman and only know that car go zoom" face and he went in and got the fuse only to show me that it wasn't blown.  So now I have a way bigger problem.  Yay.

I really need my night meds to kick in.  Toodles for the night, I'm going to lay down.

December 15, 2023

 Day 2 without Facebook.

You'd think since I preface every blog with my days off Facebook count that I care but I'm finding that I don't really care for the book of Faces.  And with that comes this odd calm of not seeing people deliriously happy and at the Christmas parties no one ever invites me to.

Sometimes I wonder if I should have a Christmas party but then I don't think I should.  I go all Donna Reed when I'm in charge of entertaining.  It's pretty for you, but so not pretty for me.  For me, it involves a lot of very spastic movements.  Maybe a lot of yelling and a few tears... 

I went lifting today.  I like Lyfting way more than Dashing.  I don't have to do anything except drive.  True I get the odd stinky person but that's why they make glade air freshener oil.  I just have to remember that one pump will do it.  Two is pushing it and three I have to put down all the windows.  I will not be lifting at Christmas though.  Oh hell no.  I did that at Thanksgiving and oh my lord the airport was a nightmare straight out of M Night Shamalan. People were actually getting out of cabs and walking to the entrance.  If they'd have staying in the cabs a lot of traffic might have been managed but then Charlotte drivers don't know how to queue correctly.  They never have.  

I am going to DD around Christmas and probably Christmas Eve because they have been giving super huge tips and I just ordered my Catering bag so hopefully I'll get orders that make the bending and lifting and climbing of stairs worth it again.  I probably never should have ventured into Lyft.  I would never know how much more I like it.  But I guess that's life.  Always finding new ways to live it.

Had a ride all the way from Albermarle road up by Lawyers road all the way to Stanley today.  An hour and a half in the car with this guy that was a tire mechanic and smelled like it.  Not a bad smell, per se just not a smell I would volunteer to smell for that long.

I don't really have much to say tonight.  I'm actually rather tired.  Ive already turned on the heated blanket that keeps my bed nice and sweltering.   It should be toasty hot by now.

So goodnight.  Sleep tight!

Day 1 without Facebook.

 Well blogland, I deactivated my Facebook last night.

Admittedly I did it in the midst of the beginning of my seasonal breakdown and I was crying and as I always do, I just wanted to run away.  I think deactivating Facebook is the adult version of running away.

The problem is, Facebook or rather, Meta owns so damn much that it's next to impossible to log into stuff once you shut down your account.  Like every turn leads to reactivating the bitch so you can't really run away.

I get sucked into this black hole every yearend I'm never able to fully pull myself to the edge until after the Valentines Candy is sold out and all the lovely doves shit is over.

For the 16th yearn a row, when the clock strikes midnight into the new year I will be alone.  Nearly everyone I now will have someone to kiss and I will not.  For God knows how many years in a row, I will have no-one that thinks of me on Valentines day.  No one to send me a card or kiss my cheek and tell me they love me.  

Because no one loves me.

I have to sit here in my room every night and watch people meet that special someone, brag about how happy they are, post pictures of them together, get engaged and eventually married and they play all this out on  Facebook for everyone to see and then either don't get that some of their friends look at that stuff (because we can't avoid it) and want to go cop squat in traffic. It's not that I don't want them to be happy.  I really love that they're happy.  Just want to be that happy.  Just once in my life.  

I was married but I was never happy.  Randy didn't want to be married and he made me feel every bit of his anger at being married.  Every single day.  I was never happy in my marriage and neither was he.  Th difference is that he went out and he found Gabi and they are happy. He's finally happy and I'm still sitting here in the fall out shelter that's become my life.

Do you know that I haven't been invited to a holiday party in years.  Every year I see people post pictures of their parties and I might lie them or comment that it looks like they had fun and they inevitably come back and say "You should come next year!"  I would freaking love to come but I only find out you had a party the day after.   Stop telling me I should come next year if you never tell me when the fucking party is!  That just tells me that you don't want me there in the first fucking place.  I have never once been invited to a Halloween party, a Friendsgiving, or a Christmas party. Not even a New Years party.

I'm 44 years old and I have never once been see to a holiday party. Not even a 4th of July party.  I had a birthday party thrown for me once but it wasn't really a party for me.  I mean only two people talked to me the whole night.  At my party.  That felt great.

I finished Survival of the Thickest on Netflix yesterday.Good show but it made me realize that I'm simply not fat enough.  You can have love if you are a twig. And you can find love if you are big as a Macy's day parade float. But if you are only mildly big, you don't get love.  You get backaches and headaches and wanting to crawl into traffic on a major highway blindfolded.

And don't try to lose the weight  so you can be a skinny mini because being big and beautiful is so in right now.  It's hot.  For years we lived with the barbie thin models and now, the big girls are taking over. But not the little big girl, just the big big girls.  They're the only ones that are beautiful enough to be happy in their skin.

I swear if I were more religious, I would join a silent convent.  Never speak to anyone ever again.  Won't have to worry about parties.  Won't care about being left out.

What a crock.

Sixteen years I've been feeling like this.  My marriage sucked warm donkey balls in the desert sun but I would have rather been miserable WITH a husband than miserable knowing I failed at marriage.  Just like my parents.

I thin that's what it comes down to honestly.  All my life I've wanted to be someones loving wife.  I'm not lying when I tell you that I really had no other when I grow up goals besides being married and growing old with him.  No princess, not anything remotely feasible.  I only ever wanted to be the someone that he came home to night. I only really ever wanted to be the someone that kissed him as he left for work and kept the house.

Which is odd because I kinda suck at housekeeping.  Well not not really I don't, I just have no one that I will ever bring back to mine so why clean it up.

When I think of all the boys I had crushes on in my life I feel like I didn't even know who the girl that liked them was.  And some of those guys are just straight assholes.

Like Ben Brody. That little fuckface with the gimpy thumb.  I was in love with him his senior year and he ignored the ever loving fuck out of me.  I saw him after I was grown and married.  Randy and I were at Atlantic City and I introduced him and do you know that that that maggoty fat fuck had the nerve to look at Randy with pity like "Oh man you married her? I feel for you man."  I had a crush on Chuck Egan.  He like some skinny brunette.  BE he's still good peeps.  There was Jason Ambrose.  No idea where he is now.  Don't really care.  Jason Sadwidth.  I think that was his name.  I know it was Jason.  I really liked him but I was just the goofy friend to him.  The girl with the Swiss rolls that would always share.

Don't boys know that if a chubby black girl shares her Swiss rolls with you, that means she pretty much loves you? I mean come on, we don't come up off of chocolate for just anyone??  Liked a guy named Mered Parnes.  Also Santo Perrotto.  They can both rot in a hell of my choosing. Both of them.  Both of them took big strides to embarrass me to show me just how revolting I was to them.

And then there was the great Donald.  He knew I liked him.  HE even threw me a bone and we slept together but I had a mini mental breakdown because things in my life were going just a lot haywire and he dropped me so damn fast I got whiplash.  It's taken me years say outloud that I dislike him.  I haven't gotten past dislike. Im stuck there.  But I dislike Donald because he used me and let me hang there like stinking rag just waiting for him to have time for me again.

I need to go to bed.  It's a quarter after one... 

And I'm all alone and I need you now.

Sorry my subconscious would have sung that song all night in my dream if I hadn't finished it.

Blog you later.

Can the rain please stop now???

So we are four days into January and the rain has literally stopped raining for maybe half a day total.  And this is ongoing from 2018.  Like over 100 inches of rain has fallen in the last thirty days and I'm pretty sure if mother nature was trying to drown the eastern part of the country, she's succeeding brilliantly.

I didn't blog yesterday because nothing really significant happened.  I lost a client because she needs a CNA and I don't have that.  But I didn't get fired, they just removed me from the case with a pending status of if they were even going to keep the case.  I feel bad though.  Her son was nice and if he would just gdo the lifting, I would happily do the washing and the grooming and dressing.   And I hate getting up at the crack of dawn and I hate going to bed early so that I can be human in those early hours but i didn't mind going to her.BUt she's completely immobile on one side so she needs a more experienced person and I'm okay with that.

Then I inevitably ended up back at the hut a few times last night because if it can go wrong with the GM is away it will go wrong.  But whatever.  Then i came home and had some tequila rose.  Not a lot but enough that I didn't want to get on Blogger and more than likely whine about what a loser I feel like because I'm still Single.

This year is about being social.  I'm going to hang out with friends, I'm going to make new friends and expand my circle.  I am not going to sit home and watch Hulu and Netflix all night .

I am also not going to make the mistake I made on the second.  I'm not going to talk about the one that got away or rather, the one that never was.  One of the things I got to thinking about last night was I feel like I'm in love with him but in the past five years he hasn't said hello to me, he hasn't wished me a happy birthday, although I do every year, and the only times he's  If I'm going to be in love with him, fine.  That's something I'm going to hold deep inside of me until someone that actually cares for me comes along and burns his name from my heart, but I'm not going to lower myself to wishing and hoping that one day he rides up on a white horse and holds out his hand for me.

Tomorrow I go see Mrs. H and then I'm off to the Hut of Pizza.  I actually like being back at the penitentiary.  unlike Prosperity there's never any time to just chill and deal with BS.  You deal with it on your feet.

Well in the essence of keeping my post short and to the point, I'm off for the night. 

Till tomorrow or the day after.

Happy New Year, I guess...

So I'm not making a resolution or anything (because if you know me, making a resolution is the quickest way to get me to stop doing something) But I'm trying this out to see if I can see how much I change over the course of a year.

I thought about actually writing it down in a book but then, I thought, nah...

So Jan1...

I officially took off the fake wedding ring.  I took it off and set it on the shelf and I think it about it often.  Like at least once every few hours I look at or feel my ring finger where it was for over two years.

At first I was wearing it because it made the men at the Hut stop flirting with me.  Like armor I guess.  Whatever, it worked and the old fugly guys that batted their geriatric eyes at me stopped. 

In a way I feel like it was armor to protect myself from looking at other guys too.

I'm going to say it.  I have been in love with a friend of a friend for almost 8 years.  He's on my Facebook and I think maybe he considers me a friend but I don't really think so.  He doesn't say hello.  He stopped acknowledging any Facebook post I put on his wall years ago and for the last four years, not even a Happy Birthday.  I can't say I'm any better.  I stopped posting on his wall and trying to talk to him because it honestly broke my heart when he didn't respond so I just stopped.  But I didn't fall out of love with him.  I don't even KNOW him.  He never gave me the chance to but for some reason I'm in love with him.

I deny up and down and every possible way that I'm in love... that I've ever even known what love it.  I didn't love my ex husband.  I honored my vows to him but I never actually loved him.  I don't know anything but basics about this guy and if he asked me to I would...

Well I would at least give him a try.  Maybe we wouldn't get along together and maybe we would but a try would be nice.

Whatever. 

Like I said I took off the ring.  I have laid down the armor.  Whether or not he gives me a chance.  I am open for someone to come take a try at me.

Jan 2.


Worked today at the hut.  Still felt for my ring but it's absence didn't bother me as much today as yesterday when the separation was brand new.

I still don;'t know how to flirt or show a man I'm interested in.  So i went back to Tinder.  I was super liked by a guy and I liked him back.  If he responds and says hello maybe we can see in person if we have anything really in common.

I wish I had more to report on today but I can't muster anything, and I have to get to bed.  i have to be up at 6:30 in the morning for my morning client.

I'm tired.  I've fixed my work schedule so that i don't have any days off and it's starting to wear me down.  Like I'm going to crack soon and it's not going to be one of those duct tape and super glue fixes.

Ah well...

A new day starts in 10 minutes and 11 seconds.  Let's see what Jan 3 brings...

Just when you'd thought I'd gone away...

I'm back!!!

Hehe, At&t and I had a serious fight.  They won but I didn't go down quietly.

So when we went to Europe for the week, most of the bills in both of our households were paid all but At&t really and when the subject came up, we were... well... in Europe and it was the last thing on anyone's mind.  So we got back and commenced to paying them but we were a month behind so every month they made my net stupidly slow and threatened to shut me off.  Two weeks ago, they cut me off but said click here to pay now.  So I clocked.  Cost my mom sixty seven dollars.  Three days ago they shut me off again.  Unlike the last time, however they wouldn't let me go ANYWHERE on the web... except Facebook.  Last time I could click past the pay now and they let me check my mail, go play a game, do all sorts of things.  This time they basically said Haha Fuck you.  I could see my mail but I couldn't click on any of them.  That's like going to the candy store and seeing all the delicious stuff in the window and finding the door locked.  I could go all over Facebook but no links would work and if I ventured out of Facebook land, I got a pretty little orange message telling me that I was a bad girl and now I was being punished.

Screw you AT&T!!  That's all I have to say on that.

So I've been playing the sims 3.  Like non stop.  Matter of fact as soon as I finish this, I'm going back to it because well... It's the freaking sims 3.  I should be decompressing from work because OMG today was one of those days where I just wanted to take a gas can and a handful of matches and torch sports.

To be fair, I generally want to do this every Saturday so today wasn't much different except that I was doing it on about one and a half hours of sleep.

We got Popeyes last night.  I don't know if it was that or what but at about three o'clock this morning, anything and everything that wasn't an organ and therefore attached to me in some way decided to vacate my body through any way possible.  I've already said too much so I won't say anymore except that it was both sad and comical.  The last time that happened to me was when I mixed heavy cream with milk in my meatloaf years ago.  And before that when I was pregnant with my son and decided to eat fried shrimp and white rice.  Neither of which he liked.

So I was not a happy camper this morning but thanks to a conversation between A and BF yesterday I was pretty clear on what I could text/call A about this morning and feeling like a truck ran me over, backed up and rolled over me about six more times was was not on that list.

I don't have much else in the way of blogging tonight.  I really want to get back to my game.

I'm not addicted, I can quit anytime I want to.  I just have no desire to.  It has nothing to do with the fact that I don't actually see people anymore, just sims...

Blog ya tomorrow!!  Stay Frosty!!

Nope, not tonight

So I spent most of the morning at work today thinking about a blog that I really wanted to do but sometime in the last 12 hours my body told my brain to just forget it.  Wasn't happening tonight.  Which means I'll go to sleep and it will be forgotten about.

I have a migraine and I'm dead tired so I will leave you with this thought:

Sometimes the people you grow up with are not the ones from your youth.  You grow at different times.  You hurt the ones you claim to love.  Sometimes the hurt is gotten past and sometimes it takes growing up to realize just how much some people have hurt you.

There are some people from my past that have hurt me in more ways than I care to count.  And it took me becoming an adult to realize that the hurt that I internalized for years made me the person I am today.  I have never told them how much they hurt me nor do I ever plan to because telling them how much they hurt me won't erase the hurt.  It will only make them hurt as well and then both of us are hurt.

The world is not eye for an eye.  Just walk away.

Ruffling feathers

Tonight, apparently, that's what I have done.

So a Yeshiva group wanted to build a college for the furthering of Jewish studies in my old hometown and they were denied.  I knew nothing about it until it became a huge issue and the posts that I saw on it were boarder line propaganda for bigotry and hatred.  At least three articles interviewed people that called the group "Those people."  and constantly said that they didn't want "those people" in their town.  They wouldn't be able to send their children to the parks because "those people" would always be there.  Property values would plummet because of "those people"

Ocean sin't known for being very open minded.  To anything.

Growing up black there was hell.  Teachers assumed that I wasn't worth taking the time on.  A lady that was once my period 5a teacher and who I believe is now actually the principal of my old high school, once called me a liar when doing the family tree project.  We were to study our backgrounds and build some stupid cube of who our ancestors were.  Parts of family come from France and some Indian tribes.  She threw out my research and made me put Africa on my cube.  She assumed that because I was black I was naturally descended from slaves and therefore the only country on my family tree should be Africa.  Did I tell my friends?  No.  I cried in the bathroom and then went home and told my mother who fought against her for me.  My first day in OTIS a white male student looked me in the eye then turned to his friend and said "Great, they let another nigger in."  I went to the bathroom and cried.  I went home and told my mom I was not going back.  She informed me that I was going back.  Hell my own guidance counselor sat me in her office and told me that I I didn't have much going for me and that pretty much the only thing I had going for me was that I was thankfully well spoken.  That Ocean had tried to give me all the breaks they could give to someone like me.

That was when I stopped letting my mother fight my battles.  I can't for the life of me remember the womans name because I blocked out a lot of my high school years but I remember walking out of the meeting and ignoring all summons' back to her office for a year.  I spent most of senior year hanging out in the band room.

Mrs. Olsen, the choir teacher was one of the most bigoted people in OTHS.  Her audition to get in chorus was to sing happy birthday, which I did in soprano.  I was placed in Soprano section.  But anytime I tried out for a soprano solo, I was told I wasn't good enough.  Yet I go to college and I'm told that I have a beautiful voice and whoever tried to tear me down by telling me I didn't obviously wasn't looking out for anyone except themselves.

Don't get me wrong, I made friends there.  Some of them I still call my friends.  Some of them I talk to regularly while others I simply get to watch their lives now through their pictures.  It happens.  It's life.

I don't go back there much.  When I happen to be in NJ, which hasn't happened in almost three years, I don't go into Ocean.  I meet my friends at the mall in Eatontown.  Not sure if any of my friends really ever noticed that I don't go to Ocean.  It took me being an adult and seeing racism outside of Ocean to realize that I grew up with an extreme dose of it.  In some way, however, it's made me who I am today and that's both good and bad.

To date of any of my friends that I met when I left Ocean, I am the most unoffendable person I know.  You seriously have to go to extreme lengths before I get offended and that in itself is a good and bad thing.

I don't talk about Ocean very much.  I don't think the place deserves much of my thoughts and even fewer of my words.  It's Ocean.  It's a place where not much changes ever and the people go to great lengths to keep it that way, regardless of who they hurt.

I will probably lose friends over this and the article I shared on Facebook.  That's fine because the people that know me; actually know me will understand where I am coming from with my opinion.  The ones that think I am speaking out of my ass never really knew me in the first place.

Cigarettes and death

First off, on the subject of me missing last night's blog, Shut up.

Second I have come to a very stunning conclusion.  Cigarettes do not cause death as the Surgeon General has decided.  No, on the contrary, cigarette's save lives.  They save lives.  Lots of them.

Now I'm not much of a smoker; asthma prevents me from really testing my limits because I seriously don't want another lecture from another doctor on how I should give up altogether to breathe better.  Trust me when I tell you that many many MANY people are alive today because I was able to take a puff a cig.

I started in high school.  Here and there, it depended on who I was hanging out with.  Most of my friends were on the straight and narrow and the thought of a cigarette... ew!  Like even! But every now and then I might snatch a few minutes with someone that used a bathroom pass to sit in the stairways and puff close to the door.  Okay, Heather.  I smoked with Heather.  One or two others after she left Ocean but pretty sure that's where it started.

And in a world where I often felt like the token black in the room, cigarettes helped A LOT.  No one was going to die in high school.  But a lot of people were spared the ever hurtful  barrage of venom dripping tirades whirling through my head.

College was very little different.  Band people smoked.  College kids smoked.  Black college kids smoked black and milds.  Don't ask me what's in one because I really don't  want to lie to you.  More than a few times Mr. Grey was spared the poison in my head because I was able to find a cigarette.  Randy hated it.  And while he was giving me sex I stopped because let's face it.  Replace anger with orgasms and who needs nicotine?? Seriously.  I will take nicotine after orgasms but truthfully it's been so long since the orgasm that I'll stick with the nicotine.  Now when he went away to join the ever expanding cast of Dumbasses in a tin can a.k.a the Navy, (Ever witnessed a cult that had matching uniforms and a health plan?  Their mascot is an old man with a serious what not to wear problem.) I once again picked up my lovely little white friend but I also picked up his much larger brother, the bottle.  Yes I drank in high school, hell I drank in middle school and as far back as one year old.  I lived in Germany.  They MAKE beer for children.  But in college the pain of what I thought was my very first real boyfriend (turns out he was a not very friendly fuck friend) going away to make a man out of himself (It didn't work) was  significantly  less if I had a cup of very bad liquid in one hand and a 'cancer' stick in the other.  Also, after the summer before my ill fated sophomore year, the pain of realizing that I had passed on a possibly very good,  albeit very short, man in favor of Randy was dulled considerably with this method.  

And then I got pregnant.  And I'm not stupid, I know you don't smoke when you're pregnant.  You don't  smoke, you don't drink.   Also I had to move back home with my mother who had no idea that I did either and I worked at Value City.  It was not one of those really happy pregnancies.  I was angry.  Angry at Randy for knocking me up.  Angry at myself for letting it happen, angry at my mom because she never let me forget for one day that my life was more or less over, angry at the job that put an angry little cuss like me in charge of customer service simply because my mom could do it.  I was further angry at Randy's mother who's wedding toast THE NIGHT OF MY 'WEDDING' TO RANDY was, "Well, I guess I gotta keep you now."  As in she legally couldn't get rid of me.  Angry that I was once again in New fucking Jersey.  Angry that I didn't follow through on the very nice church that offered to get me into community college, set me up with housing, and find me a job with the only codicils being that I continued my  education, I continued going to church, and I keep my child.  (hindsight is a real bitch!)  All because I listened when they told me that we don't have unwed mothers in my family and that I needed to fix my mistake and marry him even though when he asked and I accepted WHEN I WAS NOT PREGNANT, he  reneged saying he only proposed because he was missing me.

Hi!  You were looking for one of the royal princesses of the fair land of Dumbass???  Right here.

After I had the boy, I could barely wait to get a cigarette in my hot little fingers again, but I didn't count on one thing.  We lived with a bunch of nosy assholes.  No one said a word in Dahlgren about it because I took long walks.  Long ones.  The corner store sold loose cigarettes and I discovered that if I went to take the trash out and hit there, by the time I circled back around to our apartment, I was done.  If I bought a coke at the same time you could neither smell or taste it on me, not that Randy didn much tasting.  When we moved to Newport News, we had his godfather living with us.  I was told it was to help me out with the baby but first off the man was so damn dirty he washed his underwear in the sink where I washed food and dishes WHEN WE HAD A WASHING MACHINE. When he got a piece of money he went and got beer and he turned violent but lest I say something to anyone about the fact that this grown man used to hit me when he got intoxicated.  Oh no, then he turned the story and said that he didn't hit me, he just knocked my cigarette out of my hand and I took it too personally.

Besides mothers and father all over the world, who has ever been able to knock that precious cigarette out of someone's hand and live to tell the story?  Exactly, my point.  If Rich had knocked the cig out of my hand he'd've been dead.  The truth, he was right there with me on the stoop smoking.  But he was family and I was just the wife so who do you think Randy believed??  He got off and I got yelled at by the mighty mighty husband for smoking and he knew how to get me because he claimed I was a bad mother for doing it.  "What kind of mother smokes??"

Uhm... yours.  Marijuana to be exact.  Several times a day.  While small children were in the house.

So I stopped smoking.  We started fighting and I started eating.  And somehow he we okay with this.  He'd go out to sea, his house would be taken care of, his godfather would be fed, the people living in our house were fed, he would come home, we'd have sex, we'd get in a massive fight, I would eat, he would leave for another deployment and the whole shebang would start all over again.

Somewhere in there we had two more kids, I moved back in with my mom, we moved to a different part of Virginia and I pretended for all who wanted to watch the show that shit was okay.  I was married, I had my kids, I was happy.

I spent YEARS wanting a cigarette.

Moved to California where he could further exert his manliness and make everyone think that we had one of those awesome marriages.  Serena was the only one that understood me at first because her marriage was shit.  We stood on our respective back porches passing cigarettes and coke.  Well she gave me a cigarette, we each had a coke, and passed the vodka back and forth.

Then she went away.  But it was okay because I got Carrie!  Yea for Carrie!  If my life was dysfunctional it was totally okay because she could top mine any given day, she drank, she smoked, she didn't much care if I snagged her cigarette once in awhile and we drank and best of all... our husbands shared a love of things electronic.  It was great!  They babysat each other like all the time.  Leaving us to be mom and women.

But like all good things in life, the navy said we must move back to Dahlgren.  

But again, life looked at me and said, "It's okay, I took you from the land of love and the people who understood you and brought you to hell, but I'm giving you Patty and Chelly."  And cats.  Lots of cats.

But marriage was just one thing I couldn't stand any longer so I had to leave the land of boozy Fridays and Phase 10.

And return to New Fucking Jersey.

I smoke, I drank and I did it alone.  I did have a bitof fun.  There were friends in there but I never really let any of them know that pretty much every night after I put my kids to bed, I cried.  Cried hard.  Because my life was shit.

I made the choice to move to NC.  i was going to start over in the country.  But Mom moved down here with me and my pipe dream of moving to the country that wasn't exactly the country because there would be a city and a Patty nearby turned into living in the city.  Or the burbs at least.

I just want to wiggle my toes in grass.  I just want to sit on a hill and watch the sun go down.  Or come up, I'm flexible.

Most importantly I wanted to find a guy that wanted to do the same.

"I'm moving to Raleigh."  Four words.  From the ex.  Life... void.
"I'm moving to New Mexico." Five words. From the ex.  Life reinstated.
"So what should we do today?" Six words.  From the mother.  Life voided.
"I'm moving back to North Carolina.  To Charlotte." Eight words.  From the ex.  Life null void and reassigned.

Countless gallons of alcohol and countless cigarettes later we are arrive at today.

No man.  No grass between my tootsies.  The man that lives near the grass my tootsies long for, doesn't want me. My tootsies never see the light of day because they stay crammed in my work shoes.  My boss's boss, doesn't appreciate me at all.  My boss, yes, her boss, not at all.

I just want my grass.

Until I get my grass however, I keep a pack of cigarettes in my car.  And when the stupid people come at me, or my mom, or my ex, I smoke.  And I don't cuss them out, or threaten them.

So Smoking doesn't kill.  Smoking saves lives.  On the regular.

The  surgeon General has probably never had a stressful day in their lives.

So I have this addiction....

To pretty underwear.

There's this saying that if you get a girl home and things get hot and heavy and you get her clothes off... if her bra and her panties match, you weren't the one to decide that you were going to have sex that night.

At this point in my quest to be the owner of all the pretty underwear and bras, I look like I  decided  to have sex every night of the week.  Like, if a guy got me down to my  skivvies  I would hope that he wouldn't think that was an automatic indication that I'm cool with going all the way.  You know like we are making out and the shirt come off cool and then he somehow gets in my pants (I really have no clue how this comes about because the last time I was at that point my brain was jumping up and down shouting "Yippie!" that absolutely NO thought was happening.  No observing of the course of events just feeling.) and he  sees  that the rug matches the curtains (Yes, I KNOW that is not the actual meaning for that) and figures "Oh hey well it's been decided.  We're getting laid!"

It started innocently enough.  I was transitioning out of sports bras and trying to find something girly.   I wear a uniform at work that makes me look like everyone else (at least that's the point they tell me cause I damn sure don't look like anyone else) so I wanted to look pretty under it.  And OMG!  Thanks the the lovely sales at Lane Bryant and the Avenue and those very evil people giving me an ever increasing line of credit, my collection has quickly become an obsession.  Counting the bra I am currently wearing... I have 25. (Not nearly enough in my opinion.) and so many pairs of undies that the collection has officially rolled over into TWO dresser drawers.

And I don't want help with this obsession.  My mom took over my \Avenue card which honestly is okay by me because I don't much like their bras.  I really only use the Avenue for pretty underwear and my jeans when I decide I need a new pair once a year.  But oh boy!  My Lane Bryant!!  Love love LOVE!!!

I guess the most awesome thing about this is, I don't do it for anyone but myself.  I don't actually care if a boy sees me in my matching skivvies.  They're to make me feel pretty.  Not for him to notice.

Sigh.  Have the big girls awards ceremony tonight.  Hope she wins!  Toodles.  May or may not see you later.  Either way, my blog for the day is official!  

Hairspray... as desecrated by the students of my daughter's middle school.

So I asked for tonight off because Olivia was in a school play... err. musical.. uhm... yeah

I didn't have high hopes because it's a middle schoo production and Charlotte middle schools pretend on a regular basis that they're broke as a joke.

But man, I didn't expect it to be THAT bad.

The girl who played Tracy Turnblad.  She was an okay singer. BUt I have the STRONG STRONG feeling that she got the part because she was well... a big girl.

Most of the cast didn't come close to knowing their lines.  Mind you Tracy was 90% more on point than anyone else who had more than five lines.  For that she gets mad props.

They seemed to mix the old movie, with the new movie, with the broadway play and the result was something that made a DIEHARD Hairspray fanatic like me want to cry.

Of course my baby was awesome.  Yes.  Yes I did just become that mom for a second.

It was bad y'all.

When Olivia came home early in the year saying that they were doing Hairspray, I was like well there are only like four roles she can play, Motormouth Mama Maybelle, LIttle Inez, or one of the dreamettes or whatever those girls were called.  There was the off but likely chance that she could also be random black dancer #2.  Olivia asked me why were those the only roles she could play and I looked at my child like I didn't give birth to and raise her.  Liek she was high and lost her mind.

Uhm, I replied... Because you're black...

To which she asked what that had to do with anything.

To those of you that have not for some reason unknown to anyone but God not seen any version of Hairspray, let me break it down to you.  It's a play/musical about race relations in the 60's in Baltimore.  As in Black and whites and segregation. So being that my child is black and she most definitely is black... there were only four or so roles she could play.

Now imagine my shock when she came home and said she'd gotten the part of Prudy Pingleton.

Let's recap shall we??

<---- 1988="" in="" p="" prudy="">
Prudy in 2007--->















What about this says "Let's give this role to a little black girl"??

I will tell you exactly what says that.  My child goes to a school where whites are the minority.  Blacks had primarily ALL of the roles both black and white.  Those that weren't black were Latino or in the case of Penny Pingleton (technically my daughter's daughter) Asian.

The only white child in the ENTIRE musical was in the chorus.

The Chorus.  As in couldn't get a role in a musical that was about blacks and whites in the 60's.

But I went.  And I clapped.  I grimaced, I talked smack about it, but I supported the babies.  With all my heart.  They did their best but next year see if I don't try to volunteer to help out and see if next years play isn't way better if I can.  No more of this practicing one day a week BS.  Nah sweetie we will practice from september to June twice a week and when we go on the stage will be more than a riser and people will talk about how decent it was if not even good.

I guess what I'm saying is no matter how bad it might be always go out and support the babies.  They mean well.  They really do and at the end of the day when they stand up to take their bow and see you clapping because unlike their damn daddy who couldn't even request tonight off work or their Stepmother who'd rather take your brother and go to a function at Elevation freaking wanna be a church but it's really a tv viewing every Sunday instead of supporting the "Stepdaughter that they love so much" you were there and they will love you just a little more for it.

Support the babies man.  Just support them.

Goodnight bloggers!  Love you!

Blog January 5, 2016

So yeah,  remember when I said the would be some ridiculously short blogs? This is one of them.  I'm so tired that my hair hurts and it has nothing to do with the fact that I tried to hot comb my hair tonight and might have singed a little off.

So blog blog blog blog.

Goodnight.

Yawn....

So... uhm...

Four days into the new year and I've already fallen down on my resolution....  That is actually a new high for me.  I usually stick with something for at least a week before I default back to my normal.

But to be fair, Mystery Case Files came out with a new game.

A NEW GAME!!!

I can tell by the crickets that you aren't as excited about that as I am.

Or was last night.

The shit is hard.

So the girls got back home last night.  I asked R to have them back to my house by seven so that they could do their chores and shower and go to bed on time.  Wanna know what time he bought them back?  A quarter to nine.  Bedtime is at nine.  They didn't get to bed until after ten.  Guess who had cranky kids this morning?

So I asked R to take Kay to her dentist appointment.  She was getting the last three or four of her twelve cavity horrorfest drilled.  He said to get her there and he would be there no later than 8:10 to sit in the waiting room for her and take her on to school since I needed to be at work by like 830 across town.  At 8:35 he called and asked if I could leave his number with the people at the desk because he was stuck in traffic.  Smile Starters doesn't work that way.  A parent must be in the lobby at all times in case they need you.  So no I couldn't leave his number and go.  Plus all her stuff was there.  He finally shows up at ten minutes to nine.  By now, I'm cold (the waiting room at smile starters is ALWAYS cold.  Even in the summer, it's friggin winter in there.  In the winter I swear I'm going to be frozen to my seat.)  So he gets there and I figure I'm already late so why try to face what is going to be a very long day without coffee?  Coffee is essential for making Dette calm enough not to cuss out the stupid customer, slap the rude ones and strangle chatty coworkers. So yeah added the extra five minutes on because hell in for a penny in for a pound, you know?  I was already going to spend the day playing catch up.  I always do when I get there late (Which is why I get there as early as possible... meaning anytime after five am because DD doesn't open till 5)  Get to work.  Have 40 minutes to sheet out and open the store.  I got this.  I'm super Dette.  No really I am because dammit I did it.

But then I looked over at the oven area and saw the mountain of Deep dish pans.  It is a general rule that if there are more than 12 pans you make deep dish dough.  Fill the pans and put the rest on trays to be sheeted later.

By the time I finished making all the balls (Shut up) I needed for the pans I had enough dough left for Lauren to make a junior pizza.

32 pans.  32 doggone pans.  Had to do that first and not concentrate on anything else because if you take your attention from Deep dish procedures for even a minute, that minute turns into ten and those ten turn into an hour and before you know it, you have lost an entire batch of deep dish dough because that crap rises so stupidly fast that you have about enough time to oil the pans before you have to start sheeting. So that took me until like one thirty and then stupid me started on her regular dough not looking at the time.  Because at 2 pm, I'm supposed to drop everything and do evening sheet outs. (I don't get to see the front of the store much when I open...)  Didn't finish that batc of dough until almost three so got started on the sheet outs while helping J do the Planet fitness order.

Aside:  Planet fitness orders over 130 dollars worth of pizza from us on the first monday of each month.  I have no problem with this.  Well I kinda do.  My moral compas kinda points due north most of the time so I don't see why a GYM orders PIZZA.  I actually asked a lady that works there once.  She was honest, I will give her that, but her explanation was that people eat the pizza and feel so guilty that they hop on the machines and work out.

Fucking brilliant.  Devious as hell, but fucking brilliant.

Shorter segway, I didn't get back to the rest of my dough until after five when the closing shift leader got there.  This is not an uncommon occurrence in Howies these days.  In fact I wasn't in trouble for it but it annoyed the piss out of me because I generally have my dough done before the evening sheet outs.  I get this single mindedness thing going and dough just gets done.  Today however, my brain was like, "Nope, don't talk to me, you didn't finish your cup of coffee, I'm not playing fair today, go fuck yourself."

I promised I would get A through rush.  Rush seemed to rush right on past Howie's tonight because by a quarter to seven it was so slow I think the clock was moving backwards.  I ran.  Ran far and fast.

So right now Charlotte is in the brink of a cold snap.  And by snap I mean a beefy jock wound up a towel and snapp our naked asses in the locker room.  It's so damn cold it hurts!!!  I usually love winter.  It's the one time I really don't have to take my allergy meds and two inhalers because everything is dying.  There's no damn dust.  This week, I have had to use my rescue inhaler because the air is so cold that when I get it into my lungs it's so cold it burns.

No shit... today the snot froze in my nose.  I am not kidding.  I stood outside to talk to my mom for about ten minutes.  The snot froze in my nose.  And when I went to blow it, not realizing that it was frozen and not just crusty (I have a snotty nose it's winter, if that's all I get I;m okay with this) it broke and tore skin from the inside of my nose.  Causing a nosebleed.  Once again my brain said, "You didn't finish your coffee, this is what you deserve."

So I am going to bed.  Early for me but there you have it.  My nose is still bleeding.  My feet hurt and this morning I discovered that if I take off my shoes while sheeting out the morning pizzas, I can't see the top of the sheeter because I'm just that short.  Yeah...

Goodnight.   I'm going to cuddle under my blankies!

Why did I resolute to do this every night again??

Oh yeah, new year new me... wait.  Nope that's not it.  There was a reason.  I know I had one.  It might have been with my butthurt feelings thinking that one day I'll look back and say that I was wise or something...

Knowing me, I'll look back and think.. "Was I drunk?"

Tonight, the answer would be yes.  I'm not even going to lie.

My intention tonight was to come home and tear into the bucket of hot wings I got from Wal-Mart and have a milkshake so that my mouth wouldn't be burning.  But I put a little too much Kahlua in my shake (Is there really such a thing as too much) and four wings in and I was full.  Throw them bad boys back in the fridge.  I wish I could say that I'll try again another night but my girls come back tomorrow so all leftovers are fair game.  We live on a "Eat it or lose it" kinda vibe.

Sorta like the Hunger Games, except I'm usually the first tribute to starve to death....

I had a direction I was going in tonight.

No I didn't.  I thought I did but I don't.

So yeah.  Jan, 2nd blog.

Weight: Not even looking
Money: If I could spend the money I draw, I'd be rich
Sanity: Uhm... what?
Chicken Wings this year: 8
Hours worked this year: 16/7 of 44
Hours slept this year: 8
Dates this year: Zilch