Still here!!! Been super busy. I still read everyone’s blog, though.
Everybody has one. That one special person that they shared something unique with. Something fiery, something insane, something passionate, something ...love.
That's the one person you can never turn back from. You come into each other's lives at an unexpected time. You connect on a level that surprises you. And when you fall ...you fall so hard.
Then come the moments where the fire between you two becomes all-consuming.
I dedicate this post to iamnotshe - this blog entry is what made the inner me perk up and say – dude wtf?
It was her words of fire that lit me alive. Her words of “oh HELL no” in a post about her strength from her mothers passing. In some way your mom had a hand in this. Know how special you are Mel.
After the collapse of the company, the head on collision, my collapsed finances, my relationships in danger, my failing health, my parents facing foreclosure, my facing poverty after a life reserved for the privileged- depression was winning – fast. I did what crazy people do most. Stopped the meds. More out of force than anything. Not working, $-150.00 in the bank and no insurance- where was I supposed to get $300 for Wellbutrin? I was on assistance for food, for Christ’s sake. I can’t worry about sanity. I don’t have kids so I don’t get shit in the form of government help. Unemployment not available to a business owner. Sure I had 20 guys on my payroll at $70,000 a week, shoving money into the economy, but since I was an owner, nope- no benefits.
Luckily – got my meds. I found some for $35 at www.planetdrugsdirect.com- a legit pharmacy in Canada- my bestie Bob helped me out. Bought them for me and – here the Phoenix goes again.
I knew I was going to be ok. But my aging father whose life was just snatched and shredded by the taxing authority – with our retirement funds seized along with all liquid assets- everything was gone. You can’t start with nothing. I mean NOTHING. He called all the time asking for money. I do not have extra right now. But deny the man who 10 years ago never blinked about hiring a pit bull attorney, the same one who constantly kept Dallas Cowboy’s bad boy, Michael Irvin, out of jail – my father had no problem paying over $25,000 – CASH UP FRONT- to set my ass on a straight path after drugs took every decent bone I had in my body, replacing human emotion with hatred, lies and fear. I would be dead or on death row at the rate I was going. You don’t carry two pistols and stay high on coke without something happening and someone ending up dead. My father saved my life. And I fought like hell. I liked that life. I wanted to bail out and make more money, going right back into the scene. But I was facing 30 years federal – kingpin bad ass “Catch Me If You Can” shit is what I was into – big time. And I got caught. BAD.
Now that man who saved me – needs me.
I can’t just say NO- “you have to fix it yourself” like I am being told – by people who never have even gotten a speeding ticket. Sometimes we do not know HOW. He is lost. He needs someone to teach him to walk again. He is broken.
I am looking in a mirror.
So I prayed. Prayed like crazy. Prayed and even scolded God- “You told me you would be there- time to show yourself and make things bettter. I am your child and this fucking hurts- I don’t know what to do- I have helped myself all I can. I need you.”
The heavens parted that night.
I had no idea.
But the angels were summoned.
Weeks later: At work- get a text. “call me now – things are bad”
I call my dad. On the brink of foreclosure, my mother crying loudly in the background- they only owe $8000 on a 30 year mortgage- they can’t pay it because of the collapse of the business. And yes, his bad choices. His ignoring warnings. By his own hand. Choosing a fate akin to the Titanic’s captain, down he went with the ship.
my choosing to stay there during this, knowing the end was coming- I also chose the role of the captain. And sank we did into frozen waters, dreams – hopes – all future we ever dreamed of- home as I knew it was at the shop- laughs, tears, breakups, I always went there. Even if my dad wasn’t there – his energy was. It calmed me even if I had to wait until Monday to see him. I almost felt like I was with him just sitting in his office. All of that – gone forever - dead. Ripped from our weak hands, auctioned off- replaced. Forcibly removed. A 30 year business built with bare hands now changed to a fractured dream with seized notices still on the doors – dead in the palm of his soul. How do you move on – when giving up is all you have the strength or courage to do? And where the fuck was God. He’s an atheist. I need God’s help badly here as we have a resistant one here. God? Anyone? Hello?
I just stopped…and physically nodded. HOW people can choose not to believe on God is beyond me. Not judging, just puzzled.
Weeks before- April 2, my new job started. Secret angels in flight – I had no idea.
A new job with praise and honor and a chance to show off how fucking smart I am in the face of audits, labor analysts and IRS agents. Correcting CPAs with masters degrees when I haven’t taken ONE financial course in my life. Bob is my only mentor – and a damn good one, but I have had NO FORMAL training. And I am the one saving my boss $100K+ on his taxes. I love that shit. I was happy again.
And a new freak blessing – made by God, Jesus C, Buddha, Ghandi, Oprah – hell, I dunno – but it is divine in origin. A chance for my father through this company to rise again. The owner heard the story as I cried in the bathroom unsuccessfully begging someone who lives in a $600,000 USD house we have known for 20 years to help me help my dad. For three days, my boss was at unrest- until he approached me and said “I can’t watch this happen. Why don’t I try this business of yours? Get your dad in here- see what $10K will do and start a partnership?”
I have nothing else to type. I am still in shock.
Yes- it’s time. Fuck this shit – fuck that captain bullshit. This is not who I am -God made me in his image and He is NOT a pussy. Get back up and show the fucking world who it wrongly chose to screw with. The ship went down, but screw that old piece of junk. I learned what I needed and need a BIGGER ONE.
Depression: hope you had fun for five months. Diva is back, so badassery is back. Fucking Chuck Norris is in this bitch. Rise Again Phoenix – RISE.
PLEASE vote on this. I have a shot with this one.
Dude – whatever – be offended, I could care less, more – whatever that phrase is that means to bugger off.
So is this. I did not even hear about it.
Man. I love dissension. I really do. And I get a kick out of verbal idiot sourced slurred racism. Not like hate crime bullshit – not cool, why kill anyone, eh? I am just talking crap you mutter at people in traffic without thinking. Just off color comments that get some people so freaked out. People get so twisted. I am half Italian – half Polish. Growing up I did not know how many people in my family it took to change a light bulb (Well, fucker, we use aromatherapy candles and LED lighting so suck it) Along with being accused (rightfully) of being stupid with a bad temper. “Sure, you’ll gut me like a fish, but not remember why.” Whatever.
See? Racism is so STUPID it tickles me. And when people start pointing to racism in the comments of the blog this came from – again – the crux of this blog: accountability. Dude – the guy was not having people attack him because of his race – people attacked him because he was a belligerent dick. I could give a fuck what color you are – if you suck, you suck. If you don’t suck, you’re cool. And if you happen to be a different color, hell – tell me some jokes you know about white people. No one ever tells us.
Ahaahahaha googled some – hehehe
What’s white and fourteen inches long? Absolutely nothing!
What do you call 300 white men chasing a black man? The PGA tour.
How long does it take for a white women to take a crap??? 9 months
What’s the flattest surface to iron your jeans on? A white girl’s ass!
What do you call a White man with a sheep under each arm? A Pimp.
Why shouldnt white people go swimming? Because crackers get soggy when wet.
Again, I am Italian. We hate everyone.
I just read a post in a blog about cosmetic surgery – I love looking at botched procedures. I know, I’m weird, but if you follow this blog you know that.
There was a post about a local doctor, of which I know personally. Is he a good doctor? He cured my crap when I went to him. Does he (or rather, did he) prescribe ANYTHING you wanted when you asked? Yup. Did I take advantage of that – um – YEAH- was in full addiction mode at the time. But I have not gone to him in YEARS. I have watched his clinics pop up everywhere. His business is booming – good for him, well – I really don’t care one way or the other.
But he recently hit the news with a scandal from him performing plastic surgery when he should not have.
OK- see this pisses me off.
These stories of these POOR victims – vain and cheap, rather- who unknowingly trusted a general practitioner do perform MAJOR plastic surgery on them. Now they are crying to the press because they are deformed or whatever. Dude- REALLY? Did you see this sign in his office?
No. You didn’t.
How about this?
NO. YOU DIDN’T. WHY???? HE IS NOT A PLASTIC SURGEON.
Then WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU GO TO HIM????????
Now boo hoo, deformed people want to get settlements and sue everyone and get pity and puke. Whatever. You know what makes me SICK is that there are kids with TRUE abnormalities: port wine stains, seriously disfigured teeth, cleft palates, alopecia- all that – who don’t have parents with insurance that cover helping them. These are all NON voluntary physical abnormalities that shape these children into victims on the school yard and cause them pain and humiliation on a daily basis. And these fat bitches want money out of a doctor because they are stupid, cheap and can’t do research.
Makes me want to move planets again. I am telling you – I just can NOT successfully coexist with these hand out, pity wanting, entitled, ignorant, lazy asses on this planet anymore.
I- by no means- was blessed with no wrinkles and a model figure. Hypothyroidism shifts my weight 50 pounds every other year and Botox is my best damn friend. OH and where do I go to get a SHOT? Where I have researched does the best job. RejuvaMed Spa. Shout out: http://www.rejuvemedspa.com/index.html
No. Their team is comprised of all gynecologists and other non aesthetic based medical professionals.
I am NOT saying they do not do impeccable work. At all. I even had a consult scheduled until my friend MADE me cancel after reaming me with these exact same words and warnings of non plastic surgeons slicing up patients and hoping for the best. (Thank you, Karel.)
I am saying that I will ONLY go to a CERTIFIED PLASTIC SURGEON for major work. Period. I think that it is MY duty as a consumer to weigh risks and assess such in choosing plastic surgery. When there is a complication, can ANY burden be placed on me? If so, then tough – I’m deformed and I should have known better. However, if I go to Southlake Plastic Surgery you better be damn right that mad surgeon can slice me up like a turkey. Going from dentistry – to oral maxillofacial surgery – to major surgeries of the head and neck – then to plastic surgery- do your magic, doctor. Whatever you say, goes, Edward Scissorhands.
And if HE screws up – you sue the living shit out of him. The difference – YOU weighed out the risk. You eliminated your accountability by choosing him based on intellect and reason instead of being cheap. He has been backed up by boards and awards and accreditation that share the liability with him by certifying him.
Or you can just go to a pain management clinic with $20 and a fat ass. Then you can become a millionaire by suing a guy YOU chose because he was cheap.
I WISH I could be on that jury. OH HOW I WISH.
Maybe he needs it:
Back from the dead – after I tried SO many times to get this old part of my past out of my present tense – a part of me I bury over and over again. Like a zombie, it rises – it’s only mission – to show me what a jerk I am. *Great*
Flashes of Christmas past come filled with scenes of a ruthless bully, filled with hatred – spewing the most evil, personally malicious psychological torment toward poor unsuspecting girls that NEVER did ANYTHING to me. None of them. They actually were all nice girls. One of whom I was insanely jealous of. But they didn’t have a nice high school experience. I am sure they faked illness to avoid being humiliated and laughed at and physically and emotionally abused.
I even secretly, semi-anonymously, tormented one of US- the “pretty and we know it”, quick witted and silver tongued untouchable types. Just to show the others in the group that they should never screw with me.
What? Was I in the mafia – trying to become a made man? What the hell was wrong with me? *ugh*
I hate that I did those things.
And I did it to anyone who either was a threat or looked like they would not fight back – all the way up until I was 25, 26 years old. What in the heck was I thinking? Meanie.
Researching some things for Janis Joplin for a remix I am doing – I found this blog posting.
It made me feel like crap at first. Then, as pastors know how to do, I was ok with myself by the end. Somewhat.
Just takes me back to my old stand by for a soapbox convo- accountability. It’s this resurrection of negative images and past indiscretions that I think keeps us sober. If I didn’t have razor sharp images in my head of how my life was when I was all coked up, I would be right back in that dope party scene. Right back in that dabbling of evil, tiptoeing next to the Devil while he sleeps to steal his wallet and give him a wedgie. So I guess this is a good thing. Reminds me to be nice. It is incredibly easy for me to be mean and insulting. I guess when your childhood was such that you were scared to death of acne and being an OUNCE overweight – at EIGHT YEARS OLD – it was probably a conditioned thing. But that doesn’t mean I cannot be ACCOUNTABLE now and change that behavior.
And in doing so is surrender. My hardest part of recovery. As mean as I am capable of being to others, I am triple that insulting to myself. It’s like I hold these skins of the disgusting, evil, lecherous sub-human I became on substances and carry them around with me. Flipping through them in disgust wondering why I deserve any happiness whatsoever.
I think that is the hardest part of recovery. The guilt of what we were in active addictions. I just celebrated eight years off that crap and I still can’t even come CLOSE to forgiving myself. I wish I knew how. Especially when I read about how tortured of a soul Janis Joplin was – and that was from people LIKE ME. How in the world do you say “Tra-la-la – I have changed – yay! Erase. “
Yuk. Stupid self analysis. Meh.
Oh, I hope the blog poster doesn’t come here. I *think* he is a pastor. Nice. My foul mouth will have that poor man offended and wondering why the devil reads his blog.
“Just dock the boat sailor girl?” as my dad says. Oy.
Since I always find the humor in things – and have a knack for being offensive.
When life sucks: Phucket
And shut up already; I know that the “ph” diphthong in Thai transliteration does not become an “f” sound for illiterate Westerners like me.
But I am not Thai; I am American – that entitles me to think I can do whatever I want. So, I can pronounce ph, gh, sh – whatever – as an “F” if I want.
Phuck ewe fonic pholx.
Finally some damn comic relief. I was wandering around that admin part of my blog, having really no idea why I should care about most of this stuff. Then I happened upon something pretty amusing. So amusing an actual LOL came out.
There is a part of the management section that lets you see what search engine words led people to your blog.
You people are FREAK SHOWS. Aaaaahahaha.
Now don’t even say you don’t or have never done this. At one time or another, you have googled some pretty effed up stuff. If you looked in my history at different times, you would have had me arrested on the spot. I go through my phases, wanting to know about midget internal organ arrangement versus conjoined twins: do they orgasm at the same time? Oh stop – you know you have wondered that, too. And like dogs and cats – do they get off? Not wanting to see it – just wondering if they get enjoyment at all out of it. Do pigs really have a corkscrew penis like that chain letter says they do? Does ammonia really render a blood sample at a crime scene useless? How many alleles does an albino have? Do they burn in a really hot shower or under a heat lamp at McDonald’s? Do you get callouses on your butt when you are in a wheelchair? How do you pee if you have half a body, walking around on your hands like those circus people in the 30s and 40s??? Is that pic of Brain Peppers, the midget dude sex offender- is that real? And if so, why can’t they treat the swelling of his eyelids- I mean dude – help a guy out. His life CLEARLY sucks. Unless he is a sex offender – then , whatever.
Email chain letters and coffee pot/water cooler jokes along with my obsession with The First 48 and The New Detectives over the years have filled my head with facts (and not so facts) that I sometimes test and see what the truth really is.
And it makes me look:
Side note: Looking closer, I see a something signifying a movement of which I am very supportive.
Does this bitch realize she is fucking with Anonymous? Um – just stop now. You will NOT win against Anonymous.
Again, I digress, blah blah.
That is a SMALL sampling of how batshit crazy I am. Curious actually. And frank about it. I don’t get this whole “you shouldn’t ask that” mentality. Ask, hell. It’s better than staring or looking away wondering. Have some respect and clobber morbid curiosity with brazen lack of tact.
But I KNOW what brought YOU here. Well YOU there - not YOU – the normal ones I talk to all the time on here. I am talking about YOU wayward one who has needs for strange fornication and a penchant for white shoes.
My faults – go for it. Dude – did you REALLY spend $5K a week on coke? Are you really that much of a spoiled brat? Do you have any idea how many people you bullied in the past are jumping for joy you are going through so much shit? Why do you lose and gain 50 pounds every two years? Answers: Yes, Yes, 100% of them and their friends (and their relatives,) and finally, it is called hypothyroidism, dick.
Not hard. But you people – hiding behind your search engines- you have no idea I see what led you to me. And it has NOTHING to do with me. Emo sex. Skater banging. What the hell is wrong with you? Hahhahaa!! I need to register my blog on YouPorn or BoysFood, apparently. (The men on here are thinking OH MY GOD HOW DOES SHE KNOW THOSE SITES? Hehe. Come on boys; we all know those sites. We are the generation that types with one hand. Yes, I said it.)
But, except for me fessing up, you never would have known I have such a polluted, near criminally curious mind for the macabre.
YOU who types these things:
Search Terms for 7 days ending 2012-03-05 (Summarized)
Search terms are words or phrases users find you with when they search.
|ok what the fuck||4|
|avril lavine t shirts||1|
|ladys of contry&western fucking||1|
|love what the fuck||1|
|emo skater chick||1|
|alliterations for bully||1|
|blog love life and aliterations||1|
|lorie and dorie conjoined twins||1|
|bitch slap suck||1|
|sex with conjoined twins||1|
|skater girl bitch||1|
|spina bifida woman||1|
|how to fuck a girl at first time||1|
|good girls in keds||1|
|emo skate girl||1|
|alliterations for planets||1|