Thursday, April 23, 2009


I'm drinking Sumatra coffee, listening to my iPod and enjoying the stillness in the house.

(Weezer, 'Beverly Hills)

I hope life isn't going to throw me many more curveballs for a couple of days. The last couple of weeks has sucked sweaty monkey ass, to be honest.

(Girl Talk, 'Bounce That')

I've lost a shitload of weight over the past month....I've been getting smaller for a while now, but the amount of weight I've lost recently has left me slightly astounded. I was wearing a size 10 jeans at the start of March that were slightly loose, but still wearable. Those jeans are now so big that I can pull them down and off with the waist still buttoned and the fly zippered. I had a pair of 9's that were snug the last time I tried them on. I wore them yesterday, and needed a belt. I'm now in a 7/8 and have lost 40lbs since Christmas. I'm being told I look great (thanks, Doc V! You made my day) by people who haven't seen me in a couple of months, and I feel like myself again.

(Kings Of Leon, 'Sex On Fire')

Urbaner was showing some of the dudes and dudettes in his class photos of me. One girl said 'Oh, she looks so YOUNG!', to which Urbie said 'Yeah, but she'll be 40 in a few weeks!'. The girl's mouth dropped open and she said '...and she's still dressing like THAT??!?'. I was wearing low rise jeans and a babydoll tee shirt in the pic and my abs are pretty visible (it's a helluva photo, I tell ya. That's why he keeps it on his phone and iPod).
I might be middle aged, but I don't see that as a good reason to stop being myself. I'm never going to conform; I want to be the 70 year old chick with pink hair and torn jeans who can still relate to society and isn't afraid to stand up for what she believes in/who she is.
Fuck conformity; it's boring....

(Heart, 'Barracuda')

Numbah Two's stay in the adolescent psych unit opened his eyes in more ways than one. He realized that, contrary to his original opinion, he is NOT the only kid in the world to feel despondent and hopeless. He also saw kids who have some serious fucking issues; kids who OD'd because their parents beat the crap out of them and used them for sexual gratification, kids who have schizophrenia and who hallucinate, kids who slashed their skin to ribbons because they have such a deep-seated dislike and even hatred for themselves and their appearance. He saw one kid "freak the fuck out" (his description) and have to be physically restrained and chemically sedated on a daily basis.
That place broke my fucking heart when I visited him and admitted him. So many young people, kids who should have optimism about their lives and have innumerable doors open for them to walk through.....but who cannot see a future without pain and who decide that the dreams that may come when we shuffle off this mortal coil are preferrable to the reality of staying here.
(The Human League, 'Fascination')
I want to be able to tell you that he came out of there a changed person, that the medication he's on now is a miracle drug and that he's happy and shiny and sweet and secure.

But, I can't. He's still got problems, and stil refers to himself as 'messed up in the head'. He does, however, know that he has a support system for every aspect of his life and that he's been given tools to help him figure out who he is and what he's about. He's working his program, and I can honestly say that I think he'll be ok. It's not going to be a straight path, and I know that....but I know that he's heading in the right direction.

(The Who, 'My Generation')

Funerals. I cannot begin to tell you how much I fucking HATE funerals.

(Bob Marley, 'Everything's Gonna Be Alright')

I prefer to do my grieving in private. I understand the need for ritual and that funerals are for the living, not for the dead, but christ on a cracker I DETEST funerals.
I especially detest funerals where the pastor giving the eulogy decides that it's more appropriate to evangelize and tell the assembled mourners that they HAVE to be born again or else they won't go to heaven when they die. That's what happened are Morris's funeral. I wanted to stand up and yell at him that this was NOT a Sunday morning and this was NOT his church and that nobody was there to hear him preach, that we were there to say goodbye to our grandpa/father/brother/friend, to sit down and shut the fuck up because nobody here fucking cared about his make-believe-fairy-in-the-sky-so-called-god who allegedly royally fucked over his own SON and turned him into a zombie....but I didn't. It was only respect for my in laws that kept me in my seat. It turns out that most everyone there had the same opinion that I did (the non born agains, at least. There is a small born again faction in the family, and unfortunately they were the ones who chose the pastor).

Pastor, fuck you. Fuck YOU, dude. You make me fucking sick.

(Kid Rock, 'Cowboy')

I had physical therapy yesterday. It fucking hurt. My shoulder has been inflammed - I can hear it squishing and crunching when I move it, and I also have bicepital tendonitis in the same shoulder. I'm afraid I'm going to rupture that tendon if I don't take care of business, which would mean another therapy was indicated.

(Sublime, 'Santeria')

She hurt me. When I got done, I couldn't raise my arm above my waist without flinching and yelping. So, before I left the building, I asked the doc about a pain medication prescription. I haven't asked for narcs in months; I really don't like to take them unless I feel like I HAVE to. Fuck, I gave myself an ulcer trying to avoid narcs...I think that's a pretty good indicator of my dislike for them.
His nurse said she'd ask him at lunchtime, get back to me in the afternoon, and we scheduled more therapy appointments for me, the first one being today.

He never called me. I called at 1800 yesterday, and there was no prescription OR message for me. So, I cancelled my appointments. They didn't like that, apparently. That's too fucking bad, I think. I'm not going to put myself through that without knowing there's some relief available.

Am I being a baby about it?

Monday, April 20, 2009

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W.H. Auden

I don't think that anyone could have asked for a better funeral than the one Morris was given today.

He had a Firefighter standing guard next to his casket before and during the service. When we walked out to get into our cars to go to the cemetery, there was a police car, the Fire Captain's official vehicle, and the ladder truck all decked out with black crepe ribbon.

The procession went past the firehouse where he spent 37 years of his life working. As we rounded the corner, I saw all the on duty guys standing at attention out front....with a single set of bunkers and a helmet in front of them. The hearse paused, and they saluted.

That sight brought on the tears I had been trying to contain all morning.

The PD had blocked off all the streets on the route so we could pass unhindered. People stopped their cars when they saw us coming; other people had come out of their homes to see the procession. Old men took off their ball caps and women placed their hands over their hearts as we passed by. Morris made quite an impression on the people of that town over the years, apparently.

At the cemetery there was a VFW honor guard and another FD honor guard. The FD rang the bell for Morris...the 3-3-5 sequence of chimes that every firefighter hates to hear because it means that they're burying one of their own.

The VFW gave him a 21-gun salute and presented his son, my father-in-law, with the folded flag. That made me cry, too. I think that every military spouse, when they see or hear that presentation, thinks and worries that one day they'll be on the receiving end because they'll be burying a husband or wife far too soon.

Before the casket was closed, I watched as my father-in-law slipped a commemeration coin my husband was presented into the pocket of Morris' FD dress uniform. I promised Urbie I'd be there when that happened, and I was. Then, I leaned in and kissed him or his forehead one last time. I know he couldn't hear me, but I told him I loved him and that I love his grandson, too. My tears fell onto his skin, and they were still there as I watched the lid of the casket close.

I fucking hate funerals, but I have to say that as funerals go, this was the classiest, most meaningful one I've ever attended.

Some say that the true measure of a man can only be judged by the amount of people at his funeral. If that is truly the case, then...well, I'll just say this: the line for the visitation yesterday went out of the funeral home and around the block, it was standing room only at the funeral service today, and the funeral procession consisted of over 40 vehicles (those were just the ones I could count when we got to the cemetary and were waiting for everyone to arrive so we could start the graveside service). I think that that says far more about my grandfather (and he was MY grandfather too. When he heard that I didn't have any grandparents, he told methat I could share him and Ethel; that they'd be my surrogates) than any words I could write here.

Rest well, Morris. Your duty is done.

In Loving Memory of Morris Frederick

14 August 1922 - 16 April 2009

He did not go gentle into that good night.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Sure fire way to piss NM off.

I am PISSED, y'all. Really, truly pissed.

I went to see Numbah Two this afternoon. He said he'd seen the psychiatrist again today, but that no mention of his discharge or treatment plan was made. I had specifically asked that I be contacted regarding not only his pharmaceutical treatment, but his diagnosis, current treatment plan and follow up care. Apart from a call yesterday morning asking my permission to start medicating him with Celexa (minimal dose), I have heard NOTHING.

So, after visiting with NT, I stopped by the nurse's station. I asked why I hadn't been contacted. 'We don't know' was the response.

'What's his diagnosis?' I asked. I got the same answer.

'What do you mean, you 'don't know'? You must have some idea; you're medicating him, and you're not medicating his symptoms....ergo, you must be medicating the disorder. 'we don't know' doesn't cut it, guys'

'We don't know. Really we don't'

'Fine, let me see his chart. I'll read it for myself'

'Can't, it's against hospital policy.'

This is where I got pissed off.

'EXCUSE ME??!! I am his parent, his legal guardian and his personal representative in the eyes of both state and federal law. I don't give a toss about your hospital policy; state and federal LAW supercedes whatever this organization says. Please, don't make me get all legal about this. I don't want to have to do that, I just want to see my child's records...I want to be an informed participant in his care.'


'Fine. You will have an official written request from me on your desk tomorrow - with the IL statutes that say you HAVE to give me his chart- and you will then legally have 30 days to give me access to his FULL medical chart from his stay here. I'm going to see those records, period. ALL of them.'

'Can't....wait, what??'

'You heard me. I'm legally entitled to see that chart. I didn't want to force the issue because I really thought that I'd be treated better than this. Clearly, I was wrong. I'll drop that letter off tomorrow, and I'm going to want someone's signature as a receipt.'

'Well, you can see the chart with the doctor or the therapist, they can guide you through it...'

'Nope, too late for that. I want that chart in full, and I'm legally entitled to it. I know more than enough to understand what's written in it, and I don't want your 'version' of what it means. You guys know what I do, I've brought patients to you before. I had hoped for a little professional courtesy, but seeing as you don't want to do that, we'll do it the legal way. I'll be back with that letter. Y'all have a nice day!'

'Wait....uhh...umm.....would you like the doc to call you?'

'I wanted that, yes, and I STILL want that. However, I'm also still going to get my eyes on my child's chart - ALL OF IT. See ya!'

So, the sure fire way to piss NM off? Tell her that she can't do something she knows she's legally entitled to do. Be alternatively obtuse and obstructive and generally disregard State and Federal laws in favor of your company policy - and do all of that with regard to the minor child she's the legal representative of.

That's how you do it.

Friday, April 17, 2009

The day after

That photo was taken last summer (when Urbaner was still rockin' his cheesy mustache, haha). There are 4 generations in that photo; my boys, their dad, their dad's dad, and their great-grandfather.

Thank you for all your comments, emails and text messages. It really helps to know that I have people who are willing to listen to me should I need to vent.

I got a call from Numbah Two today. He's doing okay; tired but settling in. He should see the doc later today and I'm expecting a call from him about medicating NT.

I spoke to the Director Of Nursing at work this morning. I'll have to fill out some paperwork in order to take a leave of absence, but I still have a job with them when I'm ready to go back. On hearing my tale of woe, she said "Good god, girl, no wonder you have an ulcer!".

Urbaner said that graduating from this school is even more important now. He's doing it for Morris, he said. I think Morris would like that. He's worried that people will be mad at him for not dropping what he's doing and coming home for the funeral. I told him that I didn't think anyone would be because it was Morris' dying wish that he stay the course, but if I heard anyone comment about it I'd shut them down pretty quick. I will, too. They didn't hear his heart break as he heard the news....I did.

The funeral is Monday, and he's having a firefighter color guard and a 21 gun salute from the VFW. It was suggested that perhaps attending the visitation on Sunday would be easier for me and the kids (the funeral is in the morning and we'll have to leave home before 5am in order to make it). I don't know how well the 'lings will handle a visitation; sitting around an open casket looking at their grandfather's corpse for 3 hours might be too much for them. So, we're going to the funeral instead. I don't care that we're going to have to leave early, we're going to be there and that's all there is to it.

I cannot verbalize how glad I am that we spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with Urbaner's family. Morris was there, you see. We got to spend a whole day with him, talking and eating and laughing. I an *so* glad that my 'lings and my husband and I have those days as our last memory of him.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

When it rains, it pours

Today has been a rough day.

This afternoon I went with my son to the adolescent psychiatric unit at a local hospital and admitted him. He's been cutting himself and says that he's had thoughts of suicide for a while now, and that he doesn't know how much longer he can control those thoughts. So, he got admitted. He'll be there for a few days, probably a week.

I know that he's been down and has had depressive episodes in the past, but I didn't know it had become this bad until yesterday. Whilst I didn't want to admit him and cried when I had to leave him there, I at least know that he's in a safe place and won't be able to harm himself tonight. If he had come home, I don't know that I would have got a lot of sleep. I'm sure he'll be medicated with a SSRI of some kind and I know he's going to have some intensive therapy, both group and individual, whilst he's there. Those are both good things, I think - whatever it takes to help him get better.

Telling my husband that his grandfather, the man who helped raise him, was dead was one of the hardest things I've had to do. I've talked to him a few times since then, and he seems to be coping well and grieving appropriately. I'm sad that he won't be able to go to the funeral, but FTS and LL and I will go in his place. Numbah Two won't be able to go - although I was told that if I talk to his psychiatrist we might be able to spring him out of there early. I'm not a big fan of that idea; I'd be taking a mentally fragile child into a highly emotional situation and I just don't think that's a good plan. So, he'll stay for the recommended amount of time and we'll work around that.

I'm going to have to call work tomorrow and let them know that I don't know when I'll be back. I want to create as stable an environment for NT as I can, and I think that working in the evenings and not being around when he gets home from school in the afternoons is a recipe for disaster. So, I'm going to ask for a leave of absence. If they give it to me, great. If not....well, they'll just have to fire me. My child and my family come before ANY job, period.

So far, I'm holding up well. I usually operate well under pressure and stress, and working for hospice means I've gained some pretty good coping mechanisms. I'm sad, yeah, but I'm okay.

I wish I could say the same for my kid.

So long, Morris

My husband's grandfather died peacefully at home this morning. He was under Hospice care, although I didn't know that. He didn't want Urbaner or I to know because he was afraid that it would affect Urbaner's performance and plans to go to Raven school. He also left strict instructions for Urbie to NOT leave school for the funeral.

I had the task of calling my husband at school to inform him. I hate doing that. I had to call his duty section and ask them to call the school and tell Urbie I needed to talk to him urgently (he's not allowed to carry his cell phone during the day and I didn't want to wait until this evening to notify him). When he called me, he was irritated and asked me what I wanted. I started out by saying "I'm so sorry, babe...." and he guessed what was up. He said he was ok, but I could hear the waver in his voice, a waver that grew stronger when I relayed Morris' wishes about NOT leaving school to attend the funeral.

As much as I hope this doesn't affect him, I can't help but think that it will. However, I'm going to try to get him to graduate for his do it in his memory. I think that's the best tribute he could ever give him.

I have lost a total of 4 people I care about in the last 10 days. That's surreal.

I'm going to go cry again now....let the grieving begin.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Personal ad advice.

I've been searching the personal ads recently for new material for my blog. What I found there (consistently) worries me. So, I've decided to dedicate an article about what NOT to do/say in your personal ad.

1. Punctuation matters. I have lost count of the number of ads I came across that didn't use ANY punctuation at all. They were one long sentence that most of the time didn't make any sense at all. Even worse than that were the folks who don't know how to use quotation marks and just throw them around willy nilly. It just makes you look dumb, guys, and that's never a good thing.

2. Spellcheck programs are your friend. Really. I am convinced that the majority of people in my area dropped out of school after 4th grade, because that's how they write. Everybody makes mistakes sometimes, but when you use 'no' instead of 'know' and say you are 'impudent' when you really mean 'impotent' something is terribly wrong (the 'impudent' guy argued with me via email that impudent means the same thing as impotent. He also threw parenthesies and quotation marks around like they were simply for decoration. Then he told me that he wanted to drink my pee. Nice.)

3. Very few women reading the ads give a rat's ass about the size of your penis, and even fewer want to see it - so please, please don't post/send photos of it.

4. Advertising for 'no strings attached' sex will get you nowhere, and it just makes it seem like you think all women are whores.

5. '30 year old white male, likes music and food' is NOT an adequate description of yourself. You gotta give a girl a little more to go on, you know?

6. Declaring undying love for your ex wife/girlfriend/baby mama will NOT get you a new girl. We typically don't share well.

7. Saying 'I just want someone who will love me' smacks of desperation - not to mention it's kinda pathetic.

8. Don't be hatin' on the fat chicks. It makes you sound superficial and shallow.

9. Be specific, but not too specific. 'I want a redheaded athiest girl with glasses' really eliminates a lot of chicks, some of whom might do well with you. Don't laugh, someone actually posted an ad saying that's what he wanted.

10. Last but by no means least, bragging about your sexual prowess is a turn-off for most of us. I don't want to know how good in bed you are right off the bat, it makes it seem like you're only after one thing - and again, most of us don't dig that.

I'm putting another dating ad article together tonight and will post it in the next couple of days. Watch this space....

Three in a week

I'm out of work until next Monday. The ulcer that I thought was healing nicely apparently wasn't healing at all. I found that out when I saw streaks of red in my vomit the other day. One trip to the doc, a GI cocktail, an increase in Nexium and a sick note was my day yesterday.

I was reading the obits today when I saw a familiar name in it. Two familiar names, actually. The deceased are patients that I've cared for almost exclusively over the past couple of weeks. Their passing comes as a bit of a shock to me; yes, they were in a nursing home but they weren't that sick and certainly not at death's door.

That's 3 patients in one week. Death showed up in the facility for one person and decided that while he was there he'd take a couple of extra people with him when he left. I don't believe in an afterlife so I can't say that these people have gone on to bigger and better things, but I am glad that they are no longer suffering.

All of their deaths saddened me, but the first one hit me particularly hard. He was one of those rare patients I formed a friendship with. I went in to see him on my days off, and he met my husband. We had more than a patient/caregiver relationship, and his passing came as a shock.

I was thinking about death last night as I lay in bed. I've been around death a lot; I've helped people die and I've been at a person's bedside as they breathed their last. I'm no stranger to the process, but it still stuns me sometimes. It's difficult for me to accept that the person I was talking to just the other day, the person who had likes and dislikes and a family and friends and children and a personality, that that person has simply ceased to exist. They're gone. Just like that. The bundle of chemical reactions that made them who they were is no more, never to be replaced.

I don't do very well at funerals, so I won't be attending any of them. I prefer to remember the person as they were when they were alive; I don't want to remember them as a cold, embalmed body with a face full of makeup lying in a casket.

This is the downside of this job. I have to get somewhat emotionally involved in order to be an effective care provider...and because of that involvement, it hurts when a patient dies.

I'm going to go cry now and get it all out.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Noodle Dawg Blog

Hullo, peoples. It is me, Noods. I haf camed to tell yew about fings in mai howse.

First of all, mai momma gots somefing called a 'job' and she is gone away a LOT. She leaves after she eats her lunch and she doesn't come back until after I go to bed. She wears these funny clothes she calls 'skrubs' and when she comes home she shore does smell inturesting. I fink that I wud liek to go to the job wif her sumtiem but I doan no if she'll let me.

Next, the Big Guy wented away AGAIN. He said he wud be back and dat he had to go to a skool. I doan understand dat; mai kids to go a skool but they come home every day. The Big Guy stays at skool at nite tiem too. I wunder if dats becuz he is bigger than mai kids....

The Tall Girl was crying the other day because both her hamstores dieded. I was sad, I liekd them hamstores. Tall Girl had a little car wif a ball in it dat she wud put the hamstore in and it wud run and me an Grace wud chase it and sniff it and play wif it. Now they are dead so I can't do that anymoar. Mai Momma was crying too becuz her mouse died. I liekd the mouse, he wuzznt as interesting as the hamstores and he was reel small but I liekd to look at him run on his spinny fing. He shore wuz kwik. Nao mai momma sez she isnt gonna get a new mouse cuz she'll never be able to replace Napoleon.

Mai momma haz a tummy ake today. She had to go to the dokter and when she camed back she sed she wuzznt going to werk until next week. I fink dats a gud fing, cuz i fink she werks too much. She is always tired when she haz to werk and me and mai sister Grace doan hardly get to see her. I'm gonna sleep on her bed tonite. The Big Guy doesn't let me when he is here, he sez 'Noods, you can't lie still. You gots to go' but mai momma doesn't say anyfing liek dat.

Ok, peoples. I'm getting sleepy. It is dark outsied and I fink its tiem for me to go get up on mai mommas bed and go to sleep. Fank ewe for listening to me.

Bie for nao,


Monday, April 13, 2009

You named your child what?!

I'm looking at baby pages and birth anouncements and I'm having trouble imagining what some of these parents were thinking when they named their babies.

First up, we have a little girl named 'Royale'. The first thing that comes to my mind is the Belgian cheeseburger a la Pulp Fiction....

Next, 'Elighcia'. I understand that it's probably pronounced 'Ell-ee-sha', but that's going to be incredibly difficult for a child (or anyone else) to spell when they get older.

'Xhandria' is an unusual name. I wonder if it's pronounced 'Zan-dree-ah' or 'Ex-an-dree-ah'?

'Kai'viaun' is next on the list. I have no idea how it's pronounced, and I wish that people would stop putting random letters and apostrophes together and saying that they're a name. They're not.

Some parents actually named their little boy 'Lucifer'. Really. What happens if he grows up and decided that fundamental christianity is the right path for him?

I have no idea where this idea for a name came from and I really don't care to know: 'Riggens', and it's a girl. What the heck!?

Last but by no means least, 'Iwoblue', and again it's a little girl. How is it pronounced, I wonder? What does it mean - if it means anything at all?

I'm thinking that my almost naming my daughter 'Nirvana' wasn't so silly afterall....

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Dating Creepiness

I think I'm addicted to Craigslist dating ads. I'm not on the market to date, but I still like to go and look to see what's going down...mainly to remind myself just how lucky I am to be in a stable, loving relationship.

For example, I could be faced with the prospect of this guy as a potential date:


Creepy. Oh so creepy. Ugh.

Next, we have this winner:

Hi this is my second relationship I have went throughand i hope number3 is the charm see i am a very honest faithful guy just because i did a few thing wrong which i think are minor she lost her trust in me but i swear that i NEVER DID ANYTHING WRONG I was truely in love with her and she is my everythingbut she dont want me anymore.Your not something i am falling back on because of loving her i have tried everything but it wont work so if you think i am worth it write me i will tell you the whole story and see if you want to love me p.s. Tamm I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

He ends this veritable sonnet with a photo of himself butchering a dead deer. Nice, huh? I wonder what made him think it would be a good idea to post a personal ad for a new girlfriend that basically consists of a proclamation of undying love for his ex and an admission of untrustworthiness. The dead deer is just gravy, IMO.

This next one is titled 'LOOKING FOR LIFE MATE' (caps his, not mine)

This is what i am looking for i thought i had it but it is gone know I am not going to lie i love he and will always love her but that is a chapter in my life that is closed know. i am looking for the one the fair book love dont mean to sound like aa sissy cause I'm not. but i want that love that my ex called new love but i never want it to go away I am not a saint but i will never cheat on my woman but each of us needsto be mads sure the others needs are meet.need help supporting the home not complaining when things happen which are not illegal butthat all will be explained if your interested I AM LOOKING FOR THE WOMAN TO WALK THRU THE PARK HOLDING HANDS AT 100 HOPE YOU KINDA UNDERSTAND WHERE I AM COMING FROM

Umm...if I could understand what you had written, I might be able to understand where you're coming from. And, whilst we're here, I don't think that professing your undying love for another woman is a big turn on for us chicks. Really.

This 'Sophisticated Love Maker' says he's 'intelligent' and 'well educated':

Really am a well educated, and highly intelligent person. Looking for an inner beauty fullfilled person, with attractive outer qualities, also. Seeking someone who's corresponding to my personality. Very well educated and could hold an intellectual conversation, other than the topic of gettin off with each other. Looking for someone whose a well rounded person, also. No decrimination against race, body type, nor age. If ur a real down to earth type of person hit me up wit your status pic n location. I'm in seek of a well rounded wonder woman. Thats young but NOT NECESSARILY N age. If your whom POSSESSES A MATURE mental phase, it's a real positive plus if physically fit, R both, but NO immaturity tolerated. I'm young but way more mature and ahead of my time. I'm an intelligent, sociable, african/native american,biracial young man. Seeking a well put together: mother R soon to be mother N the future. Have a two yr old JR so those of u with children isn't a subtraction, N any way. In search of a independent, spiritual, mature women, to get to know on a personl level. No need to dwell on the past it's a New Year so it's time for New Relations. No age preferences, but must be able to tolerate a energetic, thrill-seekin'SCORPIO, that enjoys very high intellectual conversations with me an Young Trill Sophisticated Savage.

Apparently in his world, 'well educated' means completing third grade. Seriously, can't spell basic words, can't abbreviate appropriately, and can't construct simple sentences but you want me to believe you're well educated? Puh-leeze.

I have more, but reading all of these is making me nauseated so I'm going to have to take a break. More to follow, I promise...

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Yeah, that's REAL mature.

The Slacker quit at work the other night. It's a good thing; it needed to happen. Everyone else had been carrying her weight for weeks; she was never anywhere to be found, took breaks that were WAAAY longer than they're supposed to be and was generally just lazy. The final straw for me was when she was the only person on the unit but she walked away from an emergent call light to go sit at the nurses station.

She didn't go quietly, though....and what she did to sabotage those of us who were left behind was total and utter bullshit.

She folded the incontinence pads under her patients with the absorbent side DOWN. When the incontient patients urinated/defecated, it went all over themselves and their beds, meaning that we had total bed changes and patient baths to give instead of just changing the pads and giving the person a quick clean up.

Using your elderly, frail and incontinent patients to get back at your co-workers.

That's a whole new level of immaturity.

In dire need

The first word that came to mind as I was reading the blur on that site?




I live next to some of *the* most selfish, inconsiderate people it has ever been my misfortune to come across.

First, it was the partying and noise. It started around Thanksgiving and continued until I ended up calling a patrol to respond to their home at 4am on New Year's Day.

After that, things were quiet for a week or so. Then it started again. They have a habit of going out on a Friday or Saturday night and coming home at 3 or 4 am, hollering and screaming up and down the street, waking both myself and Urbaner up.

Then the weather got warmer and their kids were out in the street. All 8 of them. And, when I say 'in the street' I mean that literally. I have lost count of the number of times I have come down the street in the car and had to come to a complete and often abrupt halt because one of their children is running in the road....with no parental supervision at all. The one time the mom WAS out there, her 3 year old ran out in front of me and I had to slam on the brakes. Instead of grabbing the kid and tanning his rear end like *I* would have done to one of mine, she just stood in the same spot and said "Focus, Jameilanichaqwan"

"Focus". Your child almost got run over, and you just stand your fat ass in the same fucking spot and tell him to focus. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

The warmer weather also heralded the return of their dog. This dog barks and *any* and *every*thing, and instead of bringing it inside when it yaps incessantly like the rest of the street does with their dogs, these ignoramuses leave it out there for hours (and I mean that literally). It starts at 7am - which is just lovely when I've worked the night before - and goes on literally all day.

Urbaner and I have tried and tried to get over their actions and behaviour, to just try to ignore it and get on with our lives. However, what happened Friday night/Saturday morning changed that: they came home with some friends and 3:45am and decided to stand outside their house, screaming and cackling and generally creating a disturbance. It was so loud it woke both of us up, and Urbaner - the guy who's more than willing to live and let live - got up, stuck his head out of the window and said "Really?!! Are you kidding me?!! It's quarter to four in the morning!! Have some goddam respect for your neighbors!!!!"

I'm done. Really. I'm starting to keep a log - I'm documenting all the times that they create problems with their kids or their dog or their partying. After a couple of weeks, I'm taking it to the housing office and to this jackass's command section and I'm going to ask them for some help. Clearly our asking them to quit isn't doing a damn bit of good, and whilst a police visit helped for a weekend they went right back to their noisy ways after a couple of days. It's not just the noise, of those kids is going to end up getting hit by a car if they don't keep an eye on them better.

I just don't understand how people can have so little consideration for those who live around them. I really don't get it...

Friday, April 3, 2009

Parental smackdown pending

I'm about to put a parental smackdown on Numbah Two.

I found out that he's been fooling around with drugs and alcohol. I know he's smoked pot, but what I didn't know until yesterday is that he's been doing Ecstacy, cold medicine, cough syrup AND he's been drinking alcohol regularly too. The E really worries me - it ALL worries me, but especially E.

His father and I have talked to him time and again about the perils of drugs and alcohol, about how kids die from it and how a criminal record can fuck up your whole life. Clearly, our words have had no effect, so I've had to come up with other ways of sending him the message that drugs are NOT cool.

So, I called the county jail today. He's getting a tour of the jail and the detox facility on Monday. He doesn't know it yet, and he won't know about it until we walk into the jail. I'm going to try to get him a tour at the morgue, too. I want him to see that right now, he has unlimited doors open to him; he can be anything he wants to be and go anywhere he wants to go....but that if he continues down the road he's currently on, he WILL get caught (or hurt or worse) and doors will begin to close. I want him to see where posession of a controlled substance will get you; I want to show him the detox facility and tell him that the people in it all started the same way he did, and now they have NOTHING. Their substance abuse has robbed them of EVERYthing they ever had, including their dignity. If needs be, I want him to see the corpse of a person who died from a overdose or from alcoholism. I want to make him understand that he is NOT invincible, and that it CAN happen to him.

With the obvious escalation of his drug use, I am, for the first time, really frightened for him. I'm scared that he'll try meth. Or smack. Or crack. I'm scared he'll get addicted, or that he'll OD. I cannot think of a worse thing for a parent to have to do than ID their child in a morgue or hospital ER after they've killed themselves with drugs and I am starting to worry that that's what it will come to for us.

Some of you might think I'm overreacting. I, however, don't. I'm pulling the big guns out because I love him and I don't want him to waste/lose his life.

Please feel free to leave any advice you might have in the comment section. I'll take all the help I can get.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

It's called 'self checkout' for a reason!!!

Here begins today's rant:

Attention patrons of the Scott AFB Commissary: the 'self checkouts', for those of you who are not familiar with the term, are checkouts where you ring up your OWN items. YOURSELF. There isn't a person there to ring them up for you.

Also, when there are multiple signs saying '15 items or less', that means if you have MORE than 15 items in your basket, you should use an attended register. 16 or 17 I can deal with, but 25? Yeah, you need to go elsewhere.

This afternoon I stood in line behind a woman who not only had WAY MORE than 15 things in her cart, she was so inept at utilizing the self checkout that she had to have an attendant ring up AND bag all of her purchases for her...whilst the line behind me got longer and longer and longer.

The thing that really pissed me off was the attendants response when I asked him about the 15 item rule: "Yeah, we don't enforce that".

If you're not going to enforce it, why fucking spend the money to have signs made up and posted in multiple places around the registers? Also, it seems to me that this commissary is slightly selective about what rules they enforce and which ones they don't: during peak shopping hours military in uniform have priority in line over other shoppers (and that's absolutely as it should be) and THAT rule is enforced. Why then, is the number of items rule ignored?

The lady who couldn't use the register walked out behind me and I was SOOOOO tempted to turn around and ask her if she understood the concept of a self-service register.....but I'd have probably thrown some cusswords in there and that would have been offensive, so Urbaner and I just walked REALLY slow so she couldn't get by.

Childish? Yeah, probably. But hellaciously satisfying.

I blame it all on the nookie.

I have a bit of pyleonephritis going on. It started out as a UTI - the 5th one in a year - and I didn't have time to go to the doctor for a UA until Tuesday. I did the pee test and within half an hour I got a call saying that I HAD to come in and be seen the next morning because I had pretty high levels. By the time I got done at work I was feverish and felt like I had hot rocks sitting where my bladder and right kidney should be.

So, I got signed out of work for 3 days, put on antibiotics to treat the current infection and given more antibiotics to use post-coitus.

It's the coitus that's the problem, see. I'm getting UTI's because I'm having sex. Lots of sex. Yeah, that's probably TMI for yall, but...oh well. Anyway, I'm doing everything I can to try to ward off UTI's: I pee afterwards and make sure I hydrate well, but it's not working. My urethra is short and bacteria get up into my bladder where they have themselves an orgy and multiply. This time I left it too long and they got bored with my bladder and went up my ureters in search of greener pastures.

Yesterday I had a 103 degree fever and felt like shite. Today, I'm afebrile and feel better - not 100%, but better than yesterday.

I also got put on Lopressor for migraine prevention. I'll let you know how that goes...