Teen Suicide....another one

Today my friend told me one of her friends son's committed suicide.  He was just a teenager.  Full of life and promise, this young man was.  He is no more.  Like blowing out a candle.  He hung himself without a word or gesture.  He is simply gone.  

You hear about things like this all the time.  A young person takes their life for some reason or another that seems so senseless to most of us.  I have read and heard about these tragedies and I cry every time and always ask why.  

What is it that makes a person want to take their own life?  I am sure to that person there are many reasons that make the ending of their life and the pain they are in justified.  

I was always taught that to end your life is a sin against our Heavenly Father and a one way ticket to eternal damnation.  I suppose for me, to take my life would not be worth outer darkness, spirit prison or hell.  Trading human pain for eternal pain.  I would not see the trade off.

 Like Mounds or Almond Joy both decent candy bars and relatively the same.  One has nuts and both have coconut that get caught in your teeth.  A bother to be sure.  Maybe not a good comparison but one worth thinking about especially, when thinking about eternal damnation, do I want to live through this horrible situation here on earth and learn from it and go on to other things and be a better human or do I want to be dammed for all eternity?  Tough question for sure....cough. 

Some people do not believe in a hell per say.  I do.  Maybe, after a long time of teaching and deep meditation there would be a way back to the grace of Heavenly Father.  I am not sure.  I do not make up the rules and am definitely am not in charge of forgiveness.  I just know that I am in charge of forgiving those who trespass against me (cough, I must have something in my throat).  I also need to forgive myself.  I mess up a lot.  

I suppose, when you are a teen and you cannot get your brain to reason like an adult or grasp a reality where the future is not like the here and now, it is highly probable that good decisions are a favorable outcome.  I know, some adults have problems with this as well.  Maybe the pain is so overwhelming or the problem so enormous that impossible is the only answer and death is the sweet release from the darkness that consumes them.  I don't know.  I can only guess by looking from the outside. 

I know as a Mother that when my Daughter experiences distress I want to talk to her and find out what is really going in that head of hers.  I will pick her brain until she is so tired of talking to me that she is willing to spill her soul and then we can figure out what the real issue is.  Then again sometimes I just want to pretend everything is just fine and live in a Mothers LA LA land were everything is perfect.  I am sure all Mothers like to go there from time to time.  I would live there, if coming back from there wasn't so jarring and uncomfortable.  

I did talk to my friend about this kid who took his own life and we talked about our own childhoods.  I know that now I am hyper vigilant about how my Daughter "Feels" and her "Needs".  It is hard for me.  My Parents were not that into my "Feelings".  I don't think any Parents were in our generation.  Maybe a little at the end of the 1970's and early 1980's but then I became an adult and I was off on my own adventure.  It was just weird to be all into that.  

I mean I guess we were into it on paper but not really because I don't remember really caring how I felt.  I just knew I didn't want to disappoint my Parents and being perfect and successful was part of that.  I did the best I could.  Any pain I had was well hidden from them.  I know because I asked my Mom years later, if she knew how messed up I was about a few things, she had no clue.  She was busy with her own thing.  As long as I was alive and not dead, all was good.  

So, this kid, he was doing well.  On paper he was just fine.  His Mom had no reason to expect that inside he was a very unhappy young man.  Then one day, he just could not take it anymore.  He takes his life.  No note, nothing on his computer, no breakup, no Facebook bullying, nothing.  He is just gone.  

How could she have known?  He left no clue.  He "Seemed" happy.  He was functioning and doing just fine.  I guess we are all doing just fine until we are not just fine anymore.  Then we either stand up or fall down.  We either let someone help us back up or we do get back up ourselves or we take ourselves out.

My Daughter would say that it was his choice to take himself out.  She would say that he chose this and we should honor his choice.  She would say that even, if we do not believe in his choice that his life is not our life.  That this choice is between him and God.  I have to say I do agree with her.  However, I choose to be sad and believe him to be a coward to not stand up and face life.   I choose to grieve with his Mother, even though I do not know her.  

If my Daughter would choose to take her own life, I would be very angry at her and at myself for raising a coward.  I do not honor cowards.  I do honor a persons choices but a coward makes me angry.  Life is a gift.  Even, if at this very moment it sucks, it is still the best gift any of us have ever been given.  

Perhaps, instead of death we might want to face life and enjoy all of it even the bad days or horrible days.  Every event can turn into something amazing.  I guess that is just me.  I like to put frosting on everything.  

For instance, I hate that I have the metabolism of a turtle.  I used to have the most beautiful body.  Now, my body is not beautiful.  To loose all the weight I have gained since High School, I would have to eat 1000 calories a day for three years and work out for two hours a day.  Then I would need intensive plastic surgery...every where and a crap load of laser treatment.  I also will never have my amazing smile back.  The right side of my mouth slightly droops.  

I could really be sad about this.  I could cry and wail.  However, I ate all that crappy food.  I sat around and was lazy.  Yes, part of it was not my fault but I had a big hand in it. I am what I am.  I can only do what I can do.  I will grow where I am planted and find joy in what I have.  I will be as healthy as I can be and be a glowing from the inside out beautiful person or at least try.  

If I could tell any young person one thing before they take the final steps before taking their lives, it would be to enjoy the process.  Each step is its own joy and reward.  Every person you meet is a colorful creation of our creator and worthy of love and kindness just as you are.  Love yourself just like you love your family and friends.  Love others like you love yourself.  Be kind.  Forgive everyone and yourself.  Patience is so important.  Take your time.  Be who you want to be and not what others want you to be.  Love God the way you want to love God.  Every day is a gift.  Some days are wrapped in black and some days have a tiara on them.  It is OK to be sad.  It is OK to be angry.  It is perfectly acceptable to love who you want to love.  Try not to take peoples hearts out with dull spoons.  Read a lot of books.  Take naps.  A sense of humor is paramount.  Temperance is learned.  

I suppose that is all I would say.  I would hope these words would give them pause before they stepped into the darkness.  Then again...maybe not a teen is a teen after all.  

Reach out my friends to our young people and love them.  Our world is so hard and the future is so uncertain for our youth.  They are living in a time like no other people have lived before, yet they are living in a time that is filled with craziness and violence that I have only read about.  

If you get a chance, maybe say a prayer for this young mans mother.  That she will find peace and that this young man will find peace were ever he is.  

Fat Bottom Girls on my walk that make me think to much..who knew

I was thinking about something today.  I guess I think about a lot of things every day.  Today, I was walking my dog, Pookie.  We have been walking a more and more.  

This is my thought process.  I was walking Pookie past the park, I was walking as fast as my curvalishish body would move me.  Then all the sudden, two extremely large women and their two round children were in front of me.  

I live by a park and Sundays are Baseball days.  I think they had been watching the Pony League games and were walking towards their car.  I saw them leaving the park and walked faster.  They went diagonal. I increased my speed to get in front of them.  They blocked my path and just my luck I was behind them.  

These girls were two of me or three of me each.  Big girls to be sure.  They were wearing yoga pants and bedazzled shirts with breast popping out.  Hair piled up and very nicely done too.  Makeup on and sharpie eyebrows (what is this a sharpie eyebrow invasion?) They wear dangling earrings that make disco balls dim.  These girls are way into glitz and glam.  Oh, yes..... and wearing platform flip flops.

I on the other hand had on yoga pants on but underneath I had work out shorts that went to my knees that held me all in (extra strong Lycra).  I also, had a long t-shirt on and an even longer hoodie on to cover my bottom and front.  Rule of thumb when a larger person, cover all offending areas and make sure nothing jiggles.  Hair up in a high pony tail.  No makeup and sunglasses to cover that fact.  My goal with this was to not scare small children or adults with weak stomachs on my walk. Appropriate shoes, dog on her leash (no doggy stroller today), ear phones in (my friend told me this was a good way to have people not speak to me).   

There I was staring at these two women's bottoms and I actually felt skinny.  I wondered, if they had their own orbits.  Feeling thin does not happen very often with me.  My mind went to things like.  I wonder how many calories they have to consume to keep their size?  What size yoga pants do they wear?  How do they get their hair so high?  I wish I had confidence like them.  To be able to love yourself and prance around like that at that size.  

Then I started to think that most women consider themselves hideous at even one pound over weight.  Most Men won't even look at a women, if she is not what he thinks is ideal or pleasing to his visual senses.  

My Daughter is overweight and she loves the body she is in and has no problem with her weight or what others think of her.  This amazes me.  She even gets mad at me because of my self esteem issues.  She gives me lectures about loving myself as is.  How ever did I manage to raise her like that I will never know.  

Bah!  Then I started to think about the first time my Husband and I went to Vegas.  He planned everything, like usual, and we went to the Tropicana.  We entered our room and the room had a mirror on the ceiling.  I was mortified.  

First of all, I thought what the hell was he thinking?  What kind of girl did he think he was bringing to Vegas?  Not the kind of girl that would frolic naked under bright florescent lights naked with a mirror over my mead during adult play time.  Oh...No.  I draw the line there.  

I look at him with this look on my face.  Like I am going to kill him and then feed his body parts to the rats later.  He looks like he is going to melt into a puddle right then and there.  

He looks at me with a pleading look.  He says, I promise you this wasn't like this before.  He swears that he didn't book the room with a mirror on the ceiling.  He says, We can get another room, right?  I take a deep breath and turn off the room lights and lay down on the bed and look up.  I can't see the mirror.  I tell him as long as the lights stay off during fun and games, we are good.  He is relieved.  

Not that I am opposed to a mirror over the bed.  Heck, if I weighed 120 pounds, had no stretch marks, had perfect toned muscles and gravity defying non-sagging breasts, I would say sure lets go for it.  However, I am completely human and I have had a child.  I also, have been taught to be ashamed of my body to such a degree that I could never enjoy myself with the lights on and a mirror over the bed during happy, joy time.  I mean what women in her right mind could?  Unless, she was crazy or perfect.  

As all these thoughts are swirling in my head the large yoga pants girls stop and I literally slam right into them and then I almost fall into the only hole in the sidewalk.  I am so graceful.  I say I am sorry a million times.  They look at me like I am snorting crack and shake their heads at the crazy lady with the little white dog.  

I shake it off and go my merry way.  I need to concentrate on anything other than mirrors on the ceiling and fat bottom girls, so I zoom as fast as I can walking as fast and far from the glam queens as I go down the street.  

Then I actually turn my music on and turn it up.  Metallica blasts in my ears and my anxiety goes way down.  Thank goodness I shake all these thoughts and can finish my walk in record time and get my heart rate up to a decent rate.  

I tell myself to stop thinking.  Set goals like watch TV on a regular basis.  Watch reality shows and shop at Walmart.  Yes, all these are achievable goals.  I can do this.  Yes, I can.  Be like everyone else.  Normal people don't think about stuff like you do.  

I start to say a mantra....stop thinking...stop thinking...nope not working...I am thinking again.  Nope...there is no way I am ever gonna watch regular TV or a reality show.  Sorry....just gotta be me.  

Lord Help us all!!! Teri is on a diet

I have decided that I want to loose weight.  Not because I want a rocking hot body so I can make the boys all crazy.  Bah!  No, not that, I just want to be healthier.  Looking better would be nice too.  

Anyway, after the brain tumor, I started to loose weight.  Just a pound here then a pound there and pretty soon I was thirty pounds or so thinner.  I wasn't even trying.  Things were kinda different.  I wasn't as hungry as I used to be.  I hated candy and sweet stuff and I just could not eat as much food.  All good as far as I can see.  

Then, things started to be so much clearer in the thinking department.  I could remember stuff again.  Not perfect but way better than how I was before.  

I used to have two toes on my left foot that had this totally gross fungus on the nails.  I had even taken prescription medication to get rid of this affliction.  I went to a reputable salon and had regular pedicures.  I saw a podiatrist.  I painted that toe fungus stuff on them.  I was even thinking of having the nails taken off.  They made me shiver with self loathing and disgust.  Then after the surgery, they healed.  I was really happy but I found it kinda weird.  You know, poof gone right after one missing brain tumor.  

I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia before I was diagnosed with the brain tumor.  I know I have talked about that before.  Also, I am just a bag of health fun....right?  However, I am going to talk about it again.  This was about six months before the brain tumor diagnosis.  I was feeling so very sick and everything hurt.  I kept getting headaches and I was so tired.  My BFF made me see a Nurse Practitioner who specialized in Fibromyalgia.  She assessed me and then sent me for labs.  Her Diagnosis was Fibromyalgia.  She did send me to a Reheumatologist for conformation and then to my Primary Physician.  

I was given a prescription for Ultram and muscle relaxers.  I was told to exercise, stretch and get plenty of rest.  I was also told not to do anything stressful or be in stressful situations.  Now, that was funny.  My life was nothing but stressful.  I was a Union Officer and an OR Nurse.  Holy Crap!!! My life was painted with stress.  

I have been without a brain tumor for five months now and with my Doctors permission, I am not taking any pain medications at all.  I decided I just did not want to live my life popping pain pills anymore.  OK, I was only taking one or two a day but I felt that was way to many.  In fact, I want to stop taking Motrin and the muscle relaxers.  I have found this spice that simply rules for pain relief.  My Doctor approved me taking it.  I wrote about it a while ago.  It is called Turmeric.

I keep reading about all these fibromyalgia people who live their lives in wheelchairs or some kind.  They pop Norco's or whatever every six hours and sleep 12 hours a day.  I just can't be that person.  I won't be that person.  I hope I won't be that person.  Please, God, don't let me become that person.  

Anyway, after a lot of thought, I decided I wanted to loose the rest of the 80 pounds I gained.  I have 55 pounds to loose.  Loosing 55 pounds won't make me skinny.  I will be pleasantly curvy at that weight and I am pretty sure that that is a good weight to maintain without a lot of effort on my part.  

Today is my fifth day on the diet.  So far, I find that dinner time is my worst time.  I really seem to want over do it then.  Other than that, I have been relatively much better than I have been dieting in a long time.  Usually, I am kinda insane and I can't even make it to dinner let alone one week.  

This self control thing over how I eat is a new thing I have not had in a long time.  I used to be able to just set my mind on something and that was that.  I would do it.  Then slowly I could not do that anymore.  It was like I had something in my head preventing me from being me.  HA! HA!  Oh, Wait, I did.  

I find all this interesting because the Physicians I have been working with tell me that the brain tumor would not have caused any malfunction that they could detect.  That there would have been a test that they could do or run that would show them or prove that something was wrong.  Other than I had a tumor and it would need to come out eventually.  That it could or could not start my hormones to act up or not.  

Until this happened to me, I would have agreed with them.  Now, I know better.  In a really odd way, I am glad it all happened to me.  I have a new perspective and in the long run, I have myself back.  My word of wisdom to anyone who cares to know, is listen to that still small voice that tells you something is wrong.  That voice is right 100% of the time.  Unless it is telling you to do really bad things or wear ugly clothes and sharpie eyebrows.  Just saying.  

I have hope were I had no hope before.  I have my brain back and now, my health is coming back.  I have this teeny tiny hope that after all these years of struggle with my weight I can do it this time and win this battle.  

Who knows, I am only a week in and there are many weeks to go and a lot of pounds to loose.  I will blog about it from time to time and bore the pants off of you.  I can promise you that.  

A Trip to El Pollo Loco with no chicken

As this blog thing becomes more of a daily or regular occurrence at our house, my Husband is becoming more and more involved.  At first, he wanted nothing to do with this blog.  In fact, he was a blog shunner.  Then he would be sitting on the other end of the couch and ask me what I was blogging about today?  I would look at him askance and mumble something or another and leave it at that.  

Fast forward two and a half months later and now I find myself reading him my blogs before I can finish them.  Good thing because I need a proofreader.  STAT!!  He is especially interested in the blogs about him.  

Anyway, I was reading him my blog about needing to learn Spanish.  He became very angry.  He began talking about how ridiculous racism was in any form.  He then asked me, if I remembered an incident from a few years ago.  I had almost completely forgotten.  Then he said he thought I should write about it and ask all of you what you thought.  

So, here goes.  This actually happened to me about five or six years ago.  

We wanted El Pollo Loco.  I love chicken and sometimes I just don't want to cook.  Throw me in Housewife jail.  Please.  

So, I went to fetch some chicken.  Thinking that the drive through line would be the fastest and most efficient way to purchase some chicken and tortillas.  I slipped into line with everyone else.   The line was long.  I could hear the people ordering chicken before me at the little order box.  Everyone was ordering in a mix of Spanish and English.  It was all really loud. Crazy loud.  

I get up to the box and I order Chicken in English only. The Lady says, We have no Chicken.  I thought perhaps I had done something wrong and was in a Jerry Seinfeld episode and the Soup Nazi was replaced by the Chicken Lady.  She was denying me Chicken.  "No Chicken for You!!"  She was apparently out of all chicken except burritos.  OK?  I ordered burritos.  I was so sad.  

I heard the people behind me order chicken in a mixture of Spanish and English.  The Chicken Lady took the Order.  WTF?  I thought maybe she misunderstood me.  Then I think, what is so hard to misunderstand about chicken?

I get to the window, and see that all the people in the restaurant are getting chicken.  They are all speaking very loudly and not in English.  I tell the lady that I heard her take the car behind me order for chicken and I say look all those people are getting chicken.  I wave at the people inside.  Why can't I have chicken like everyone else?  She smiles and says there is no chicken here.  We are out of chicken.  

I ask to speak to the Manager.  The Manager comes to me and I explain the situation.  I tell him everything.  He looks at the Chicken Lady and he then gives me a box of Chicken. It was a miracle.  Chicken from heaven   He gives me the Chicken for free.  I pay for the burritos and am still in shock.  

I come home with a sad sack of chicken burritos and a box of miracle chicken that appeared from thin air.  I tell my family about what has happened.  My Husband becomes insane with anger.  I end up calling El Pollo Loco and tell them what happened.  They listen and send me a ten dollar gift certificate for my next order with them and they suggest I go to another location.   Oh, yes...that fixes everything.  I hope you can see me roll my eyes.  

I didn't go to El Pollo Loco for a very long time.  I think we have not gone there twice since then and not to that particular store.  

I understand that many races hate white people and are possibly justified from past actions.  However, I am not personally responsible for any crimes against any people of any color or culture that I am aware of.  Yet, I find that simply because I am not dark brown or deep ebony brown I am being hated simply because I am not.  I find this so strange and odd since those people who cry most against racism are now the ones to initiate it.  My mind boggles at how we are ever going to get past this and just be one people working and loving each other for the betterment of all people and our planet.  Will this ever end?

I probably put that memory away into my forget file.  I sometimes do that, when traumatized with horrible situations that are incomprehensible.  I call it my Scarlet O'Hara gift.  It is useful on occasion and I suggest everyone develop it from time to time.  

However, I think it was a very sad story.  I am tired of stories like these.  I really am.  My Husband is right to have me share this story even though I really didn't want to remember it.  

Do you think the Chicken Lady heard my voice and on purpose decided to single me out and deny me chicken just because of what she thought my race was based on by my voice or do you think she was telling me the truth?  

Do you think this is a case of reverse racism or not?  Tell me what you think?  Has this ever happened to you?

What is it about the you speak no Spanish you get no job thing?

Something has been on my mind lately.  Actually, I have really pissed off about it.  Let me say that it just gets my panties in a twist.  

I want to get a clinic job.  After the brain tumor, I thought or think it might be prudent to slow down some.  I start to look on the job list at work and bid for jobs in the clinic.  

All of them are listed as Bilingual preferred.  OK, I speak some Spanish.  Actually I speak awesome medical Spanish.  However, at my job you have to take a test and be certified to be able to speak any Spanish at all.  In fact, you can be terminated for speaking any Spanish to any patient, if you are not certified. Not even directionals, like move here or sit down.  Things like that.  

I am a terrible conversational Spanish speaker.  I am unable to speak to you about the weather or books.  I can only speak medial Spanish for the specialty for which I am involved with and I learn as I go.  My grammar is horrible.  I do the best I can.  I am sure with practice and some immersion, I would be fluent.  However, I am not allowed this opportunity.  

Anyway, I have some seniority with my position after almost 15 years at this current Hospital, but clinic jobs are highly prized and sought after.  Now, any RN who speaks Spanish is able to bid over anyone with seniority to win the position.  As a highly skilled OR Nurse with an in-depth background in Labor and Delivery my skills are "tight" but because I do not speak Spanish, I am bid out of job after job.  

I called Nurse Recruitment and asked what I needed to do.  She told me to learn Spanish and become fluent or I would never get a job other than something with technical skills.  I argued with her that the clinic needs RN's who have critical thinking skills and technical skills as well as excellent communication skills in the language of America which is English.  Just because someone speaks Spanish is no reason to hire them over someone who is more qualified and someone who has more seniority.  I said that is basically another form of racism.  She did not say anything to my remark.  What can you say.  I am right.  

She didn't actually say this but this was my take away.  To friggin bad, this is what the company wants and this is what we are going to do and we don't care what the right thing is in the long run this is what works right now.  I was highly frustrated.  

So, in order for me to obtain a clinic job with the company I work for, I need to become fluent in Spanish.  I did call my Union Representative, she was no help. I did not expect her to be.  I had worked with her for four years, when I was an Officer.  Some things are always a constant like Unions.  I guess I get to learn Spanish, If I really want that clinic job. Begins to grumble and mutter to herself.  

So, here I sit, looking for ways to learn Spanish without actually having to attend a class or spending to much money.  You know, I am going to learn Spanish and become an awesome sauce Spanish speaker.  I think what I am going to do is just have my friends at work speak Spanish to me and have me answer them until I just get it right.  Practice, Practice, Practice.  Anyway, it is a start.  

I don't understand not learning the language of the country that you have immigrated to.  I really don't.  I don't understand a country not insisting on it's people having a common language and written word.  We all come from other places and we all had to learn and assimilate.  Why?  Because we wanted to be here and we gave up stuff so we could be free.  We came here to become Americans for opportunities and a chance that our first countries did not give us.  

It is what it is for now.  However, I do not think insisting Americans learn another language to obtain employment is even on the scale of right or slightly fair.  Your basically forcing those English only people to learn Spanish or move away to English speaking areas.  Then you have segregated neighborhoods again and we start all over again with more racism in another form.  

I think the right answer is to have a common written and spoken language.  Maybe we should vote on it as a country.  I would say English since that is what we have been speaking since the pilgrim days but we probably should vote.  

Then whatever the vote decides give so many years to make is so, and that is it, we speak and write in whatever language that we voted in.  

Another thing, the most qualified person should get the job or even the most senior.  Sometimes the most senior person shouldn't get the job because they truly suck.    Not the one who can speak a certain language or what color they are.  I think it is time we take a stand and do the right thing.  

I know that when I go to the Doctors office, I have this LVN (Licensed Vocation Nurse.  They attend a program for 8 months and can work in a clinic or on a medical or surgical floor in a hospital under the direction or supervision of an RN or a Physician.  They cannot assess a patient, teach or work independently. They hold no degree.  They only hold a certificate and have a limited license) He can hardly speak English.  He attempts to give me instructions and I make him repeat and repeat and I correct his grammar until he can give me instructions that I can understand.  I know, I can be mean.  I think he hates me.  I probably am going to hell for this behavior.  I just can't help myself.  I tell myself don't do it....your being bad.  Then I do it every time because he pisses me off every time.  

He needs to be able to give me proper instructions in my first language and he needs to speak it correctly just like he does to his Spanish speaking patients.   If he says he is bilingual than he needs to be bilingual.  Besides, I know what he going to tell me anyway, I really don't need the instructions but it is fun to make him work for it.  He does not know I am an RN.  I am just making a point.  

So, I suppose it is the way of things in California and probably not like this in most of the country.  I need to either learn Spanish and just go with it or leave California.  Because if I don't, I am not going to not have a job.  I need to work because I need to eat and I need a place to live.  So, learning Spanish it is.  Sigh.  

What do you think?  Is it right to hire people who speak Spanish over qualifications or seniority?  

Quirky Husbands

I have been with my Husband since 2001.  We met at a Grocery Store, Gad of all places.  I have never known anyone like him.  He has to be the most old fashioned, straight laced, stiff necked, uptight and proper person I have ever met.  

I was trying to explain him to my friends the other day.  He takes a lot of explaining.  We were all giggling about our Husbands and their quirky ways.   I confessed that it took two years before I had seen my Husband completely naked.  Sure, I had seen bits and pieces here and there but never the whole thing all at once.  I was pleasantly surprised when I finally able to see him in his all together.  

He was simply not raised to be "Free to be you and me".  My friends were all shocked that it took two years to see him naked.  I replied that I couldn't just toss him on the bed and take his clothes off without his consent.  He is stronger than me.  If the man wanted to be seen naked piece by piece, then so be it.  I on the other hand let him adore me in any dress or partial dress that would catch his fancy.  Yes, I just  used the word....fancy.  

I guess I was feeling like spilling my guts, I also told them that I had never seen my Husband urinate (go Pee Pee). Nope, not once, in almost nine years of marriage and five years of dating have I have seen him pee.  I on the other hand, I  leave the door open and simply do not care.  I don't see the point.  We are married for Pete's sake.  I mean, I have walked in on him and he has totally flipped out.  Before I can even get a grip on what I am looking at, I slam the door shut and run away.  He can be really scary.  

My Friends thought this was hilarious.  They had no idea how a married couple could not have shared something as basic as the activity of urination.  I shrug at them.  I have no explanation except that my Husband is just not that kind of man.  He is private and just likes things the way he likes them.  Good thing I go with the flow, because any other woman would just go crazy trying to deal with the Husband I have.  

So, being me, I gave them one more tidbit.  My Husband, will not let me jump in the shower with him.  I have tried telling him we will save water, that our marriage will be more intimate and we will grow closer.  The man built me a ginormous bathroom with a jacuzzi bathtub in it for us to soak in.  He has been in it five times with me.  Each time he complains it is too hot and lasts no longer than 15 minutes.  Definitely not into group bathing my guy.  

Apparently, most of my friends husbands bath with them on a regular basis.  They think we are weird. I guess we are.  Yet, I feel happy, even though we don't do what other married couples do.  My Husband says he is happy.  I asked him the other day, if I could watch him "go"?  He looked at me,  as if I had grown an extra head.  He pretended to be all mad at me.  He grumbled a little bit and then I caught him smile just the tiniest bit.  Maybe there is hope for us yet.  

OK, we move slow, my Husband and I.  We might be an odd couple.  He tamed this old hippie girl and I helped him loosen up just a little bit.  It works.  

Church or not to Church That is the Question?

This past Sunday I had a friend who was very upset about missing Church. She posted on Facebook at around three in the morning that she was very anxious and wide awake.  She said that she was so worried about missing Church that there was no way that she could attend her weekly meetings without any sleep. She ended up missing Church.  

There is a back story to my friend.  My friend is very ill and she is declining.  She has many health issues and the worst one is Fibromyalgia.  Basically she lives in a motorized wheelchair and can only walk a few feet from say a chair to a bathroom in a familiar surroundings.  

I don't know, if you know anything about Fibro or not, but it is one of those misunderstood afflictions that even Health Professionals mock.  I used to mock it until I was diagnosed with it.  I simply could not believe that people who seem perfectly healthy could be in such physical pain.  It is true, they can be in horrendous amounts of pain and look perfectly normal.  

For me, I refuse to take narcotics for pain relief and only would take the least.  Being something called Ultram.  This is a common analgesic used in Europe that can be purchased over the counter (I believe this to be true).  Any way, I did some research on Ultram and found out that it is highly addictive and with my Doctors approval decided not to take it anymore.  I was only taking one at night.  However, I would rather not be addicted to anything.  I take a spice now and Motrin for pain and a lot of analgesic pain cream.  Along with some other things for my brain that I might never be able to not take.  Sigh.  

Anyway, my Friend takes a lot of narcotics for her pain relief along with a cocktail of other medications for different diagnosis's.  She can hardly walk.  She falls out of bed at night because she is rolling around in pain.  I suggested a bed rail.  You know like for a toddler but for an adult.  I pictured her rail was the color purple, her favorite color, decorated  with glitter.  She ignored my suggested.  I don't think she liked it (snicker).  Hey, what are friends for, but to be snarky and poke fun at each other.  

I could not get my Friend out of my head.  She was so unhappy and feeling as if she failed Heavenly Father with her sketchy Church attendance. I kept thinking about what the bible says about our bodies.  How they are just temporary shells.  Well, it does not say that exactly but that is how I understand the words to mean.  

The Bible also talks about our bodies being temples.  I met this one lady who once said that she would never have a tattoo or body piercings because God said no tattoos or body piercings and that she honored her body for the Lord.  Yet, she had tattooed eyebrows (they were sharpies brows, lol), tattooed eyeliner, tattooed lips and double pierced ears.  Interesting?

Perhaps what Heavenly Father means, by a temple is to keep your body as clean as humanly possibly, be modest, try and be free of disease, eat healthy...etc.  There is a long list.  Maybe, I might be stretching it here but moderation in all things, do the best you can with what you have and improve as you go.  


She posted on Facebook that she failed for not going to church.  I posted back (this is much longer because I can be longer here) that she did not fail.  That our bodies are just shells and that our souls are eternal.  That I thought that Heavenly Father really did not care one red cent, if anyone stepped foot in a Church Building or not.  That there are people who are being held captive in non Christian lands out there that cannot attend Church, People who are not allowed to worship God at all, People who because of their circumstances cannot attend Church.  

I posted that she needed to worship were she stood.  To simply let God enter her soul and let it be.  To just be.  I wanted to tell her that loving God and letting God love you does not happen in a Church building. That going to Church is a privilege not a right nor an obligation that is even necessary since God is everywhere, since God is in your eternal soul and not in a Church building.  God does not take attendance.  People take attendance.  

I mean, it is not like once you get to Paradise there is going to be someone with a clipboard and that person is going to say, Oh. There you went to Church 70 times in your lifetime and missed 700 times.  You now get to go to sit in this dark room for 1000 years and think about what you have done.  You say, but I have prayed every day and loved the Lord with all my heart.  I have done good my whole life and lived a life for Heavenly Father.  I have given him credit and been obedient except attend Church.  I have loved my family and been a good Father and Husband.  I have given to my Community and been honest in my dealings.  I have worked hard.  The man with the clipboard says, Sorry, to the dark room with you.  You skipped Church. 

The next man comes up.  He went to Church every Sunday and attended all Church Meetings for his whole life but his heart is dark and his soul bitter.  He was a horrible husband and a mean father.  He cheated in business and lied.  The man with the clipboard says,  Oh. You, get to enter Paradise because you attended Church and all your meetings.  The man sticks his tongue out at the man in the dark room. Skipping into Paradise and singing past the clipboard guy.  

I don't think so.  I believe and I think that God knows your heart.  He knows what you have done.  If you confess and are truly sorry or not.  He is God after all.  He knows everything.  God is our Father and wants us to be happy and be the best we can be.  He is like any parent.  He might be disappointed or sad by what we do but as long as we do our best and improve as we go, he will keep clapping and cheering for us like any dad as the worst player on the soccer team gets to play for five minutes and the score is 50 to 0 and our team has 50 points.  

If my Daughter were sick and could not attend Church, I would tell her to stay home and give her the same advice that I gave to my friend.  I would love her no matter what.  As long as my Daughter loved me and even, if she did not love me.  Get it?  God loves us no matter what.  

I would tell my friend, if she chose to listen, to forgive herself for not attending Church and just let the Love of God be part of her every day life.  To not worry about anything at all because in the end it really doe not matter anyway.  Our bodies are so temporary and in the eternal time line not even a blink of notice.  Before you know it, it will all be over anyway.  

I would encourage my friend to be kind to herself because obviously she chose her body and her condition in the preexistence to teach herself and her family something.  What that is only she and her family knows.  Try and relax and remember then go for the ride.  Who knows it can be fun. 

Besides, Sundays can be fun days, if you want them to me.   I have had a really amazing spiritual journey in my life.  I have had the opportunity to pray and learn about so many different faiths.  I consider myself blessed.  

I suppose that is why I am so completely "a no matter what kind of person".  I have learned that people have to do what they have to do and we do not live their lives when it comes to matters of spiritual matters.  

Other things I have a different point of view and get my panties in a twist over but in matters of how you love God, I have no real opinion other than just love God and do your best to love others as you love yourself.  

I really would love to go to Paradise someday.  I don't care, if I end up sweeping the sidewalks there or polishing the fruit on the tree of life.  I am sure whatever the lowest job is there that will be mine.  I simply want to be there.  However, in my heart of hearts I cannot be a bigot.  I cannot be a racist (to me different things), I cannot say one religion is bad or good, (I am having a bit of trouble with Islam these days, I wish I wasn't but I am), I will not judge a persons choice of who they love or marry (sorry not my call, I will love everyone like I love myself), I will love everyone no matter what because that is what God said to do and besides I feel better loving people than hating them.  At least I try to.  

I love my friend.  I worry over her almost daily. I pray for her nightly.  She has moved far away and instead of seeing her all the time, I see her yearly.  I am glad that there is Facebook and I can see what is going on in her life and I feel as though we are part of each others lives like before.  Almost the same, Almost.  

What do you think of Church?  I wonder what others think in our modern age.  Most people I know do not attend Church or even think of God at all.  I am curious.  

Middle aged women gets hit on at the Car wash

I was doing my thing today.  Sundays seem to be my busy day.  They always have.  When my Husband I and I were active in Church they were more than busy, Sunday was Super Sunday.  Now,  Sunday is make it happen day.  

My Husband works every weekend day and I have weekends off.  I use my weekends as work days around the house days.  I used to be much more productive than I am now but I do what I can and keep pushing myself to do more.  I would love to be the dynamo I used to be but being better than what I was last weekend is always something to strive for.  Right? 

Today, was really interesting.  I cleaned the refrigerator.   That was really fun.  Yes, for me cleaning and organizing a refrigerator is fun.  I threw away almost everything in it and scrubbed the thing from inside out and top to bottom. I basically sanitized the thing and then polished it.  It is now a sparkling effigy daring anyone to put a fingerprint on it.  As if anyone in their right mind would ever be so stupid as to put their fingerprints on my fridge?  They must have a death wish, if they do.  I know I have some real issues.  Heck, I like clean stuff.  Things could always be worse.  Just saying.  

Then, I decided I was hungry.  That never really happens anymore, so I ate some Lucky Charms in soy milk.  I know that sounds really gross but it is good.  You need to jump on this wagon.  I only do it when I need to eat.  How do I put this?  All young women have a monthly cycle.  Middle Age women have them sometimes.  So, sometimes I have this weird desire to eat a lot of food and I am in a strange mood.  Today is that day.  

So, then I decided I need to get my car washed.  I had tried calling this guy who usually comes to our house and washes our cars.  He isn't the most reliable guy in the world.  I ended up at the car wash.  I take Pookie, our little white dog.  My Husband is not thrilled that I am out in our neighborhood.  Every time I go out these days something happens.  

Guess what?  Something happened. I need to get my floor mats washed and a sprinkler went all crazy and sprinkled on the side of my car.  Note to self.  Tell Husband to fix sprinkler on driveway.  Anyway, I end up getting the car waxed and stuff.  So, I am going to be there for about an hour.  Yuk!!!  I take Pookie and sit outside.  I sit by myself on a bench as far away from anyone as I can get.  Pookie is on my lap and I am reading my E-book.  

This man comes up to me and sits down.  There are plenty of places every where to sit.  He begins to talk to me.  He starts to talk to me about his divorce, his daughter and his dog.  I try so hard to ignore him but my manners kick in and I put my book down and turn to him smiling and listening.  I pet Pookie with my left hand letting the light hit my big fat diamond.  I make sure the light hits it so it can sparkle in the sunlight across his face.  The man, who is so very nice and so earnest, keeps talking.  I smile and keep petting Pookie.  I make little noises of comment.  Making sure my face matches my noises of comment.  

Finally, the man stops and I say, things like, my Husband and I.   Then I say stuff like, If He would die I would never date and smile politely at him.  He keeps going.  I keep thinking maybe he just needs to talk.  I am so very approachable, so round ,so soft, so middle aged.  Maybe I am like talking to his sister or something.  That has to be it.  Right?  What is it about me?  Sigh.

The car dude yells at the man to come fetch his car.  I am relieved.  No awkward asking for phone numbers or anything.  I wave.  He waves.  That is it.  Thank God.  

I guess I can't stay cooped up in our house forever and stuff just happens no matter what.  At least I have blog fodder and maybe you guys are entertained from time to time.  I just do wonder what is it about me?  I really don't know.  

Anyway, whatever it is, I just need to roll with and enjoy the ride.  Why not?  

Reality Shows or Mythology? Which way do you swing?

I went to the Doctor the other day.  Lets just say I have been going to the Doctor a lot these days.   Not as much as last year but more than I would have normally gone any other year.  I am tired of going to the Doctor.  

Anyway, I did what I had to do and was standing in line to get a new prescription.  I am really tired of getting prescriptions.  Unfortunately, I had to get this new batch of whatever the Doctor insisted I take this time.  However, I struck a deal with her.  I am now taking two less prescriptions, if I started to take this one.  Kinda a two for one deal.  My goal and she agrees is to keep decreasing all my prescriptions to only one maybe two by the end of the year.  

Oh...back to the standing in line thing.  I was standing there behind two older ladies.  I noticed both of them had bed head.  I mean hair standing straight up all messy like.  Sorta like they both just rolled out of their bath robes, didn't bother to look in a mirror, bathe, brush their hair or teeth kinda look.  Both of them leaning on canes and wearing some hard core polyester disasters.  One in blue triangles and one in black polka dots.  My head began to wonder, if I too would be them someday.  I had to shake that thought away.  I shivered it out of my brain and I looked up to see a plastic Thor on the counter.  

Well, that is different I thought to myself.  You really do not see a plastic Thor doll on Pharmacy counter very often.  It wasn't for sale, I noted.  It was rather beat up.   How very interesting, I thought as I pondered this odd doll in an unusual location.  

I came up to the counter and handed the Pharmacy Tech my papers.  She typed in my numbers and confirmed that indeed I was me and what my drugs were going to be.  This is when I asked about the Thor doll.  I asked, Is this a Thor doll?  She said, I don't know?  This thing has been here for three years.  We keep moving it around the Pharmacy.  I said, well it has a name.  His name is Thor.  He is from Icelandic Mythology.  His Father is Odin.  He has a Magical Hammer.  You know him, right?  She shook her head.  Nope, she said.  I never heard of him.  I blinked in astonishment.  What? I said.  Well, what about Marvel Comic Books or the Avengers...perhaps the latest movies named Thor?  She shook her head again and said, No.  She said she never heard of any such thing and it was an ugly doll.  She then said that no one in the whole Pharmacy knew who this doll was.  I found that hard to believe.  

This is when I turned to the person in the next line and asked, do you know who Thor is?  The person shook her head and said no.  I looked to the next person in the line and he shook his head no.  At this point, I just had to go sit down and wait for my prescription.  I was mystified as to how people could actually not know who this ancient person of myth was.  I simply could not remember a time in my life of not knowing his story or his legend.  

The next day I was out and about, I was very busy and I had basically forgotten about the incident.  Until I met someone who introduced himself as Ariel.  He said hello, my name is Ariel.  You know like the Mermaid.  This young man was in his early thirties.  I looked at him and I said, I think your Mother would have been to old to have been taken away by a Disney movie at the time of your birth.  Ariel is the name of an Archangel.  Also, Ariel is a character in one of Shakespeare's plays...a Faerie I think.   He was all smiles.  Really?  He said.  I said, yes.  Google it.  He told me I was the first person he had ever met that did not associate his name with the Disney Mermaid.  

Again, puzzled.  I thought how could he not know that?  Who would name their male child after a Mermaid in a Disney Movie?  He was born before the movie even came out so that would be impossible.  Who would name their child something with such meaning and not give them the meaning of that name?  Once again I found myself thinking to much.  My head began to hurt.  

I went to work the day after that.  I just knew that my work colleges would know who Thor was.  I was  completely disappointed.  Most of them knew him from the Marvel Comics or Movies.  Not one of them could tell me who his Father was or what mythology he came from.  Not one of my work colleagues knew who Ariel was.  I did ask one particular Surgeon, who is very smart, he knew who Thor was and who is Father was.  He also knew that Ariel's name came up in Shakespeare but he did not know about him being an Angel.  I was so sad.  

I had to call my Daughter on my way home from work.  I told her about my little adventure and asked her, if she knew about Thor.  She laughed at me and said there was not a moment that she did not.  That she knew about all the Seraphim's and the Archangel's, Ariel being one of them.   She also said that the reason she knew of these things was because of me.  That she was well read and highly educated because of me.  

What?  I said.  She said that we had no TV and that we read, all the time.  That I insisted she know all there was to know about everything.  Oh, I said.  I am sorry?  She laughed at me again.  She said Thank you.  I said, your welcome?  I thanked her for knowing these things and that she restored my faith in people once again.  That I was not a freak for knowing what most have forgotten.  

I suppose that we are in the modern world and silly stories of Gods and Goddess or Shakespeare might be a waste of my brain space.  Then again so can a reality show.  I guess that is the beauty of being human and living in America.  We have the right to choose what we fill our minds with.  I like that.  What do you think?

Road Trips can be fun...Maybe

A few years ago it was time for my Daughter to leave home and attend University.  I was sad and happy at the same time.  All my insane Mothering had come to fruition.  She was accepted to the University of her choice and had a scholarship.  Praise the Heavens My Daughter was going to college.  My Mother had helped me save for her college and my current Husband and I had saved and saved.  We were ready.  She was ready.  She was going to start her freshman year as a Sophomore.  Everyone was beyond thrilled.  

Anyway, the day came for me to drive her far far away.  Now, my Daughter is creepy smart.  Not just normal smart, but she makes you feel uncomfortable she is so smart.  She speaks Chinese.  She was the only blonde taking Chinese in her high school.  She read at three and knew the value of X at five.  I stopped being able to help her with her homework, when she was eight.  There have been a few (OK, there are a lot) of people in my life that can think past me.  My Daughter and my current Husband are one of those few, both of these peeps are my most favorite people to exchange ideas with and have lengthy conversations about anything with.  They actually have read more than one book in their lives and have a vocabulary of more than 100 words.  Refreshing to say the least.  

Anyway, Just for some back story and a little explanation, after I was married for the second time, the topic of religion came up and all the sudden there was this shift in how we worshiped God in our house.  Since the how to worship God was never important to me, I went with the flow.  I have always taken the book of Ruth very seriously, so like whatever, convert on.  We found ourselves Mormons.  I liked it and so did my Daughter.  Just to be clear.  I honestly do not think that God cares about were you worship him or how you worship him.  I just think he likes that you do.  I say, keep to the big ten (Ten Commandments) and your good.  Love everyone like you love yourself and let no evil into your soul and home.  Just my simple take on it.  Then, what do I know?   I am a woman, no Priesthood holder, no Prophet and nobody of any consequence in this world.  We kinda changed that after my Daughter came out of the closet but that is for other blogs.  

My Daughter received a scholarship to BYU of Idaho and that is where she went to University. Oh, I said that.  Sorry.   My BFF and I drove her there.  One of the funnest rode trips of all time.  

First thing that happened is that I had a brand new car.  A very shiny sleek gold sedan that loved my lead foot.  This car was all fancy with every bell and whistle.  I had just received the new plates.  I still was unsure as to how to actually use it. We stopped in Vegas to buy my Daughter a few electronics.   We got out of the car at Best Buy, and locked the car.  Ok, I thought we locked the car.  It kept beeping at me.  I thought I turned it off.  I mean, It stopped beeping. However, I left it running, in a Vegas Best Buy parking lot.   I know, so stupid.   Apparently, you can leave your car locked and running.  Good to know right?Apparently, my roots are not brown, they are blonde.

On the way out of Vegas,  I was driving a sedate speed of about 90 miles an hour.  Totally surprised and shock, I was stopped by a Policeman.  Right before that, my BFF said, When I was taking my Son to School in Texas, I was pulled over for speeding.  Five seconds later, I was pulled over for speeding.  My Daughter, My BFF and I started laughing so hard that by the time the Policeman came to my window, he had this look on his face of utter bafflement.  He asked what was going on.  We could hardly get out why we were laughing so hard.  Once he heard the story, he laughed along with us.  We explained where we were going and he said that most of his stops were from speeding Mormons on their way to Utah or to Idaho.  We all laughed harder.  He ended up giving me the less of all tickets.  He told me that my ticket could have cost almost $300.00 and up but it was $90.00.  When I told my Husband, He just laughed.  Apparently Mom's with lead feet are funny.  To be honest I was afraid to tell my Husband I had received a ticket.  I thought it would be one of those "I love Lucy" Moments.  Apparently he just found my ticket amusing.  

We get to BYU Idaho.  We are unloading a boat load of stuff out of the car into my Daughters dorm room.  She can't wait until we are gone.  Putting groceries away, picking out which bathroom cabinet will be hers, putting her clothes away.  Then one out of her four roommates gets there.  Typical Mormon family of ten or so come tromping into the dorm room.  I introduce myself and my BFF to the roommates Father.  I am all smiles and so is my BFF.  The Father of my Daughters roommate asks where we are from?  I tell him that we are from LA?  He screws up his face like he has smelled something bad.  He tells me that they are from Orem.  His wife comes into the room and he says in a tone that can only mean that we are rat shit.  He says that his Daughters roommate is from LA.  He says this to his Wife in a really loud voice.  I think he wanted everyone in the Dorm building to hear that there were evil LA people in the building and to protect yourself from the influence of Satan.  I can't help it.  I wait until he goes into the bedroom, I look at my BFF and burst out laughing.  It was kinda fun being the bad guy.  

After a bit, we give hugs and kisses and I reluctantly leave my only Daughter to a new chapter in her life. Everything I had dreamed of for her was coming to fruition.  I prayed that she would be happy and do her best.  Unfortunately, college was not my Daughters dream.  Her future is yet to be told.  She has other dreams than college.  Some people do.  Life is like that.  Not everyone can do the same thing.  How boring would that be?  

Anyway, on our way out of Idaho me and my BFF, stopped at a gas station.  They have gas station attendants out in Idaho.  I know right?  How cool is that?  This allowed me and my BFF to go into the gas station store.  The Gas Station Clerks were so nice to us.  They asked us what we were doing there?  I said without thinking, that we meaning me and my BFF had dropped "our" Daughter" off at BYU Idaho.  All the while waving my arm at my BFF and me.  She is nodding and smiling the whole time.  Holy Crap on a Stick!!!

I realize what I just said and did.  I want to smack my forehead with my hand.  I am deep in Mormon country Idaho.  I am next to BYU.  Now, this regular Mormon country and not the Fundamentalist area of the country or at least I don't think it is.  Polygamy is not part of the modern LDS Church.  In fact being a Polygamist can get you excommunicated really fast.  Polygamy is part of the Fundamental Church and is outlawed in America.  Anyway, I realized what I just said I and tried to unsay it but it was to late.   The people at the gas station thought that me and my BFF were sister wives and that we were dropping off "our" daughter off at University.  Oh Lord, I felt giggles start to sneak out of me like bubbles from a bubble machine.  Leaving was my only alternative.  

 My BFF and I got back in the car.  Took a minute or two and we and laughed our selves silly.  We laughed for about three hundred miles.  I would have never thought that I would have been mistaken for a polygamist.  I was not wearing a pastel dress and my hair was not done up like June Cash.  Nope, not ever, not once, not in a million years would I ever thought that I would have been mistaken for a Sister wife let alone with my BFF.  Yet, that day I was.  Well, for clerks at the gas station I was a Polygamist.  Sigh.

It really was a fun trip.  There were other little things that happened that could only happen to me.  I think I am a magnet for the strange and bizarre.  I know I am.  However, would not trade it for anything.  Just to much fun to get off the ride at this point.    

Things that make me want to throw rocks

I woke up feeling like I needed to rant.  So, being a new blogger I thought well, hells bells, I have a darn blog.  I can rant.  I will proceed to rant on.  Here goes.  

I think I am tired of people who are just so wrapped up in their own pity parties.  That they need to get their heads out of their bottoms and see the light day.  Let us say that I know many people or have friends who tell me about people and their stories make me nuts.  

Take story number one.  There is this women who followed a man around the country not because she loved him but because she knew he would give her the best genetics for future children.  Now this man never wanted children.  This man was very open about this fact to this women and he told her he had a horrible upbringing and he did not want children ever or at least until he was established and well into his thirties.  They struck an accord and the agreed upon contraception was "The Pill".  Now, my take on this whole thing would have been for the man to get a vasectomy.  It does take two people to make a baby.  I know about this couple from a friend of mine, she lives out on the East coast.  I did get to meet the "man" once.  He was at a party here a few years ago.  I liked him, he was very interesting and his story was captivating.  

The woman convinced the man that they were in love and they married.  She stopped taking her pills without his knowledge and she became pregnant.  The man accepted the fact that they were a family and told the women that he wanted her to stay at home and be a mother and wife.  Heck, I would have loved to have had that chance.  However, the women didn't like that.  She wanted to get a job.  From what I understand, she is not very smart.  Actually, sorta stupid, she can't even add or subtract very well without using her fingers.  Really, I am not making this up.  However, she did get a job and ended up screwing every male at her work place then all her husbands acquaintances.  

Finally, she moved away from her husband and took the child.  When she could not make it on her own, she called her husband and he came to her because he is a responsible person and he loved his child.  They had make up sex and made another baby.  Yes, he was that stupid.  Turns out she wasn't so dumb after all.  She divorced him and for 21 years he paid child support.  An enormous amount of child support.  They also agreed that he would only see his children, if they wanted to see him.  Guess what?  They never want to see him.  He loves his children and misses them but he didn't want them to be running back and forth in between homes and he thought his children should be with their mother.  So, he figured he would just play the bad guy and that is who he is to his children.  

During that time, she was on welfare because she had no real education or skills to speak of to support herself.  He also had to pay the welfare system back for every dime she used.  She used a lot of the taxpayers funds.  Her children received free breakfasts and free lunches at school.  Free daycare even though she did not have a job.  Food stamps.  Discounted housing and utilities because this women could not hold a job because of her low skill level.  Also, she is a very contrary person and seems to get fired very easily.  

I do not know what will happen to her once there is no child support.  I suppose she will have to actually get a job and support herself.  Maybe she will just live with her children and make them support her.  Who knows?  

People like her make me want to throw things.  I feel like she took advantage of the system and her Husband.  She also lowered the standard of living for her children and she did some really slutty things with young children in the house.  All these things not good and not right.  She could have raised her children at home and been with them the whole time.  What a privilege she could have had.  She tossed it away to be a whore and live on welfare.  I don't get it.  I really don't.  Please someone explain to me, why?

Story two is kinda sad.  There is a Woman who was sexually abused as a child by several of her adult male relatives.  As she has grew up, she has become a very large women.  I would say around 400 pounds easy.  I think it is her protective layer.   She has some deep psychological issues.  She has two distinct personalities.  One day she is one person and the other day she is someone completely different.  She is very manipulative and a good liar.  

How do I know this story?  Good question, I have known this person for a very long time.  She is a friend from high school.  She does not live in California any more.  She gave me permission to talk about her in my blog.  She wants her story to be a cautionary tale.  

Lets call her Karin.  Karin does not know how to pick men at all.  I have told her that her ability to pick men is broken.  She picks the worst guys.  It is like, if there is an axe murderer, child molester, dog killer, wife abuser and cat poker that will be the guy she falls for.  She pretends to be all religious and talks the God talk then finds the most non God kinda guy.  She brings this guy home and has sex with him.  

She then says that this guy rapes her.  Every guy she has ever been with "Rapes her".  I think it was because she was molested as a child that she says that.  I am no shrink but that is what my gut says.  I don't know, ask a professional.  I would like to know for sure about that one.  I have tried to research this question, but find no real answer that I can understand.  

Anyway, She has made three babies this way.  Every time she gets pregnant, I want to go through the phone and choke her.   First of all, she has all these health issues.  She has a bad back, she has Fibromyalgia, diabetes, asthma and the list goes on.  Then she gets pregnant and she can't hardly move let alone take care of her other children.  She always finds a way to get a judge to have the fathers out of her children's lives.  Probably a good thing, since the men she picks are so friggin creepy.  

Depending on what personality for the day, one day she is reasonable and you think there is a plan.  The next day, the Beast has come and the plan is gone. I stopped trying to help her at all.  I just listen to her and pray her children live.  She is one of the most scary Mom's I have ever known.  Worst thing is that she knows she is scary and hopes that her children do not come out to damaged.  At least she is aware of it.  I always joke with her to make sure to let the children out of the closet from time to time.  At least I hope it is a joke.  

She is also on the complete welfare package.  She gets everything.  I think the only thing she does not get is a car and gas for the car.  I think they even give her a phone.  Or at least she has enough money from the government to buy a phone and cable with Internet.    

I hope she does not get to mad at me for saying this but I don't think she should have become a Mom at all.  I mean just because you can breed does not mean you should.  Seems to me you should really think about bringing a child into the world before you do it.  Simple things like do I have a home to live in, food to eat, a job, health insurance and am I sane.  Little things like that.  Then there are the not so little things like,  am I a legal citizen of this country,  am I a criminal, am I free of drugs, is my body healthy and do I have a partner to assist me in this endeavor.  I don't know....just little thought before becoming inseminated or inseminating someone.  Just saying.  

I suppose I thought about it to much before I became a parent.  I knew I would have to work and the person I was married to at the time, was not a reliable partner for me.  So, one child was about all I knew I could handle on my own.  I am sure, if I was married to my current Husband at the time, I could have had ten kids and there would have been no problems.  I could have had one every ten months.  We would have made sure things worked out.  We chose not to have any children of our own because between us we have three.  It would have been irresponsible to do bring another into all our lives at that time.  We married late in life.  Even though we wanted to make a baby together.  We chose to be responsible and not give into our selfish desires.  We chose to do the right thing for all of us not just the two of us.  

I have so many stories of people who make me crazy.  I would really like to spend some time on people who don't.  Yet, those stories are so few and short and not very interesting.  

Dreadful tax day

Tomorrow is April 15th and it is Tax day.  I read once, that only 48% of Americans actually pay taxes.  I wonder, if that is really true.  I keep thinking about that percentage.  That must mean that the working Americans are really working hard and the ones who pay the taxes are paying for the ones who don't.  So, the ones who earn money in some capacity have to account for it in some fashion and then the ones who make over a certain amount have to pay at the end year even though they have been paying all year long.  Right?

OK.  Let me get this straight.  I work and get taxed.  I take no deductions.  There is a list on my check that is very long from several Government Offices that take their share.  A certain percentage for every dollar I make.  I did the math once.  Basically I work a week and a half for free every month.  Then, for every purchase I make I am taxed.  For the home I live in, I pay property tax.  You see the trend.  It just goes on and on.  More math, another week of my life working for free for more taxes.  So basically, every month I work two and half weeks for free just to pay for all the taxes in my life.  Now, I only did the math in my head, I never sat down with pen and paper or calculated it out for real.  I have not been that brave.  So, that leaves me one and a half weeks of pay for everything I need  in my life.  That isn't much, when you think about it.   I think, if I did the math right, that cuts my hourly wage in half or a little less than half.  

Back to the topic.  Then out of the 100% of Americans who work only 48% of them end up paying taxes to the Federal and State or other agencies.  So only 48% of us keep America going.  What do the rest of 52% do?  Also, what about the 100% of the non Working Americans and the Non Americans who are here who do not pay taxes at all?  That seems to me that there are a lot of people not pulling their full weight.  Then again, I could have read a bogus article with incorrect numbers.  Once again, I wanted to find out the real number but I was kinda scared it was lower than 48%.  So, I chickened out.  

Then I got to thinking about all the services and freebies we as Americans give out.  I am talking about a lot of Welfare to a lot of folks.  Most or, if I am not mistaken, do not pay any taxes.  Many of these folks are not Americans or not even legal citizens.  Right?  Yet, we keep giving and giving.  Makes my head hurt a little.  I am all for charity.  I love helping people.  I just don't see how that is sustainable.  How can 48% maintain 52% forever?  

If the 52% has children, they teach their children that the 48% will always provide.  These children see by example that they never really have to do anything and they usually don't.  I have an acquaintance who has several children.  My "Friend" lives her live as a taker and a hypochondriac.  She expects everyone to cater to her every whim and believes herself to be justified in receiving all the government welfare that she does.  Her children grew up this way and not one of them holds a job.  They all have "disabilities" and live off the Government in one form or another.  I wonder what her grandchildren will end up like?  So far, the apples do not fall far from the tree in this family.  Makes me kinda sad.  I wonder what potentials are lost in this way of life.  What abilities squandered to live a live of mediocrity?  I suppose we will never know. 

Then take a look at the 48%.  These folks have very small families because they simply cannot afford to have more than one or two children.  Some families do have more than two.  They are amazing budgeters.  I need to sit at their feet and learn.  It is absolutely almost impossible to pay for 52% of the population and procreate more than once or twice.  Just saying.  I know as part of this group, I feel so responsible for everything and every one.  Like every thing is my personal fault.  That makes no sense. Yet, when I talk to my peers, the feelings are mutual.  I wonder why that is?  I know that there will be no Government handouts for my children or me.  That I will have to pay for everything I do and earn my way 100%, as well as my children.  That it is expected of me to give my time and my money as well as my taxes to others for the benefit of all.  There was never a question.  Simply the way it is.  I have really not expected the Government to "do anything".   I wonder why they mismanage or why they are so idiotic.  Then again I vote.  

Back to taxes.  As my Husband makes out the big check for our taxes and he talks about us being poor, I kinda snicker.  We are not poor.  We have a roof over our head.  We have food to eat.  We have a little dog named Pookie that is like our child.  We both have good jobs.  We both have the most amazing and beautiful children on the planet.  Yes, I am biased.  We both belong to a really cool church.  We might not be very active in our church, OK we never go to church anymore.  That does not diminish our love of Heavenly Father and our faith.  Not even a little.  We have our health.  Well, mostly.  I am kinda straddle the fence but I work hard to be as healthy as possible.  We both have the most interesting extended families imaginable.  Gotta love that.  I haven't even begun to use them for blog fodder.  Trust me that will be fun.  We have a great marriage.  It took work and it still takes work but it is worth it.  The blessings we have just keep on keeping on.  Besides my idea of poor and his idea of poor are two different things.  

Do I like taxes?  No.  I think that our tax system is insane.  I do not think we can possibly continue on this course of action and be prosperous.  I am just a simple Nurse with limited knowledge and even I can see how ridiculous our system is.  I think we need a flat tax of 24% across the board.  2% to be taken out each month with a percentage taken out per state determined as to the state population per month.  Everyone who physically can work works.  Even if it is watching children, cleaning houses or doing laundry( something...anything).  Everyone contributes and pays into the system.  Unless you are friggin crazy, have no arms and legs or are dying you contribute something.  Unless you are a citizen or becoming a citizen and are here legally you do not get any benefits from our country.  Just because you are born here does not make you a citizen.  Only if your parents are citizens, makes you a citizen.  Education through college is free as well as all dental/vision/health care.  We all pay into it we all get basic health care.  You can also buy supplemental insurance.for better care.  You can also buy private education.  You can home school.  The constitution is followed without question.  

It could work.  It sure would free up a lot of money for commerce.  Our economy would boom.  Companies would not have to insure their employees anymore and they could come back to America. America could be the place to make things again.  Education would be here again.  Americans would be the place where the smart folk came from again.  People wold have money to burn.  We would build things again.  We could start to dream again instead of dreading tax day we could be the leaders and dreamers again.  Then what do I know? I am just a middle aged woman with a small education and a little tiny life and an even smaller blog.