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A Depressing Post:(:(:(:(:(:(
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Nov 21, 2009 1:11 am
Mood: sick,
88 Views
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It's 3:28 in the morning and here I am..awake yet AGAIN. There is so much on my mind, so much going on..and I can't say that any of it is good. The sclerma(eyewall infection)is back..alot worse than last November when it started. So..I'm back on the very high doses of predisone..feeling their awful effect once again. I wonder if I will lose what's left of my hair? The docs insist that there is an immune system thing going wrong inside of me, but so far the tests show nothing. Back to the long drives to Dartmouth Hitchcock in West Lebanon, N.H. and the day long visits, as I am seeing a rheumatologist there as well. And of course the predisone is the worst thing I could be on with my full blown diabetes.
The property is still not settled, I need to get a lawyer..which I can't afford. In the meantime the town has raised the property taxes and told me they stay that way until HIS name is off the property. I'm behind on the taxes now, and doubt I will ever catch up.
I'm..'not myself' these days..I cry often, am unable to sleep very much, have this 'racking cough' from the predisone, and frankly..my two beloved cats are all that keep me going..I have to for them..they need me.
D, the man from New York that I met here on FF, still visits twice a month, he has helped me out alot..I would be on the street by now if not for him. He wants us to move to New York..
but I can't..I love him..but I'm not IN love with him. He really has been a GENUINE FRIEND to me. The 'girls' and him are okay with each other, but it isn't the same as when there 'daddy' was here with them.
I'm so lost and lonely..I can't seem to get past HIS betrayal. I alternate between missing him/loving him..and anger/hating what he did. My God! I TRUSTED him so much I quit~claimed my property to him! What does that say about ME?! I don't know a sociopath when I see one I guess.
But you know..what REALLY REALLY hurts the most is not his 'throwing me(us)away'..it is his 'throwing Brigit and Brandi away'..HIS cats he had since kittens before I even came into the picture. I will NEVER EVER come to terms with that.
I realize now that he never loved me OR 'the girls,' he merely stayed with us until he found a new 'victim.'
I stopped looking for HIM when I got a phone call from the police telling me I was not to e mail or google his neighbor(even though she said she would be glad to help). The policeman says.."I guess she just changed her mind." Then WHY did she say she'd help me if I sent her his photo and information?!
I needed to write this, get it out..it's fine if noone reads it.
Take care everyone.
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My Prayer..
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Sep 21, 2009 7:21 pm
752 Views
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dear sweet Jesus
help me i pray
as i drag out of bed
to another lonely day
no 'real life' friends to speak of
on this journey called life
no family to turn to
to help share my strife
i'm sad and i'm lonely
feeling so lost
struggling to hold on
at any cost
there's two little 'girls'
who need me so much
lord please give me strength
i need your sweet touch
lift all my burdens
along with my cares
i just need a break here
please show me you hear
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amazingrace54
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F-R-E-E-D-O-M!!!!
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Sep 10, 2009 11:23 pm
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F-R-E-E-D-O-M!!!! I got in my new(used) 1991 Toyota Corolla today(well..a few hours ago it was)and drove myself to Burlington to spend the day running some errands. Some of you know that I have been without 'wheels' since D. left in December. The sky was the prettiest blue, the sun was shining, and I had a country station(what else?)on..a singing to my hearts content. The song playing happened to be an oldie..Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie..some of you
old timers here might remember that one *wink* Not exactly country
but nice all the same. I hit up all my favorite spots after my errands, and my timing was good. I was able to get the most soft, luxurious, turkish robe(soft pink flowers on a white background)for $3.75, a set of 4 palest blush colored wine glasses for $4.00,
some NEW underwear for .50 cents each, a small handmade pillow that says..'Grandmas are just antique little girls.' It made me chuckle, so now it's setting on my new(used)brass bed. Albeit, little things..inexpensive for sure..but things that I needed, some for the body..and some for the soul. It truly is nice to be a part of society again..I have never taken things for granted, but I have this stronger, more keen, appreciation now..for each second I am granted to partake of this wonderful thing called life.
Ready? Sing along with me.."Bye~bye Miss American Pie" haha!
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Man vs. Squirrel! Pt. 2 of 2
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Sep 9, 2009 2:51 am
967 Views
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About this time, the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle(maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death): and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet.
As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face, I
am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out(since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment): so her front end started to drop.
Now, picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now, the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally, I got the upper hand. I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked-sort of.
Spectacularly sort of..so to speak.
Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with yourwindows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly, a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder, roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel
grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams.
They weren't mine.
I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded
to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy street corner. I would have returned to 'fess up'(and to get my glove back), I really would have. Really. Except for two things.
First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming a shotgun at his own police car.
So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it," anyway.
That was one thing. The other?
Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car, but it was all his.
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood.
I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves and a whole lot of band-aids.
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Man vs. Squirrel! Pt. 1 of 2
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Sep 9, 2009 2:02 am
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I never dreamed that slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect..
I was on Brice Street-a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.
It was a squirrel and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it--it was that close! I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle; but a squirrel should pose no danger to me.
I barely had time to brace for the impact. animal lovers never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes.
His mouth opened; and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt!
I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular.
He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.
Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.
And losing...
I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag the tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.
It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!
Somehow, he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump, and on amazing impact; he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and rather distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all.
His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand(the throttle hand)on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result.
Torque.
This is what the Valkyrie is made for; and she is very, very good at it.
The engine roared, and the front wheel left the pavement.
The squirrel screamed in anger.
I screamed in--well, I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death..
To be continued..
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'BOUGHT..'
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Sep 2, 2009 1:17 am
775 Views
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she wonders how her life became 'THIS'
mouth frozen in losses grimace
eyes that are devoid of expression
heart that no longer cares whether it beats
tears that never seem to stop falling
painful realization drowning her in agony
loneliness beyond comprehension
stress is taking its toll
she wiles her days away
seeped in agonizing memories
and what ifs...
beating herself down mentally
over and over..again and again
'BOUGHT..'
for the price of holding loneliness at bay
the 'luxury' of lifes most basic necessities
merely 'creature comforts'
realizing she's not actually so very different
than those that 'prostitute' themselves
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amazingrace54
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Summers Last Blush
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Aug 30, 2009 3:54 pm
663 Views
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summer is having its last blush
rosey skies at dusk hinting
at tomorrows promise of
sun~kissed skies, soft luminous clouds
and gentle caressing breeze
there is an energy in the air
unseen yet palpable
shadows changing as the earth turns
ever so slightly on its continuous journey
nights becoming cooler
daylight losing ground to darkness
'a purpose to every season'
perhaps just being alive
to experience all of this magnificence
is purpose enough..
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amazingrace54
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Washing Is Greener Than Wiping
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Aug 26, 2009 11:44 am
621 Views
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Deep down, we have always known that wiping our rears with dry paper is ineffective; a classic survey showed that half of toilet~paper users spend their days with 'fecal contamination' in their underpants. And yet we continue to mock the bidet, the Frenchest of innovations, as froufrou, risqu'e, de trop. But while personal hygiene is one thing, the future of the planet is another. The average person uses 57 sheets of toilet paper a day;collectively we burn through 36.5 BILLION rolls each year. Tossing all the toilet~paper would save 15 MILLION TREES, 17.3 TERAWATTS OF ELECTRICITY, and more than 473 BILLION GALLONS OF WATER ANNUALLY; the environmental impact on bidets is minimal in comparison. No wonder the Japanese bidet behemoth Toto is gearing up for a massive sales push. When it's hip to be green, ditching the Charmin could actually make a difference. And not only in our(dirty)drawers.
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August 24&31, 2009 issue of Newsweek
written by Andrew Romano
note; I changed the wording so as not to put the focus on any one country in particular.
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So Baaad...
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Aug 25, 2009 11:23 am
688 Views
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Bob Hill and his new wife Betty were vacationing in Europe, as it
happens, near Transylvania. They were driving in a rental car along a rather deserted highway..It was late and raining very hard. Bob could hardly see the road in front of the car. Suddenly the car skids out of control. Bob attempts to control the car, but to no avail. The car swerves and smashes into a tree.
Moments later, Bob shakes his head to clear the fog. Dazed, he looks over at the passenger seat and sees his wife unconscious, with her head bleeding! Despite the rain and unfamiliar countryside, Bob knows he has to get her medical assistance.
Bob carefully picks his wife up and begins trudging down the road.
After a short while, he sees a light. He heads toward the light,
which is coming from a large, old castle. He approaches the door and knocks.
A minute passes. A small, hunched man opens the door. Bob immediately blurts, "Hello, my name is Bob Hill, and this is my wife Betty. We've been in a terrible accident, and my wife has been seriously hurt. Can I please use your phone?
"I'm sorry, replied the hunchback, but we don't have a phone. My master is a doctor, come in and I will get him!" Bob brings his wife in.
An older man comes down the stairs. "I'm afraid my assistant may have misled you. I am not a medical doctor; I am a scientist. However, it is many miles to the nearest clinic, and I have had basic medical training. I will see what I can do. Igor, bring them down to the laboratory."
With that, Igor picks up Betty and carries her downstairs, with Bob following closely. Igor places Betty on a table in the lab. Bob collapses from exhaustion and his own unrealized injuries, so Igor places Bob on an adjoining table.
After a brief examination, Igor's master looks worried, "Things are serious, Igor. Prepare a transfusion." Igor and his master work feverishly, but to no avail. Bob and Betty are no more.
The Hills' deaths upset Igor's master greatly. Wearily, he climbs the steps to his conservatory, which houses his grand piano. For it is here that he has always found solace. He begins to play, and a stirring, almost haunting melody fills the house.
Meanwhile, Igor is still in the lab tidying up. His eyes catch movement, and he notices the fingers on Betty's hand twitch, keeping time to the haunting piano music..stunned, he watches as Bob's arm begins to rise, marking the beat! He is further amazed as Betty and Bob both sit up straight!
Unable to contain himself, he dashes up the stairs to the conservatory.
He bursts in and shouts to his master;
"Master, Master!..The Hills are alive with the sound of music!"
So Baaad~I warned you!
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OMG!
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Aug 25, 2009 2:35 am
637 Views
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Brigit woke me up this morning(4:30 a.m.)chewing on a plastic bag that I had washed and was air~drying. There's something about her and plastic, though I have never been able to find out WHY. I was dreaming about piles and piles and piles of mens shirts, washed, but needing to be ironed. The pile was way up in the air! I'm just real thankful that I didn't have to be the one to iron them all..or..DID I?!  ha!ha!ha!
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