*~BlOgGiN' wHiTe TrAsH~*

Journal entry, originally written;

Sunday, May 18, 2008
A Few Things… (brief FrankenArm update, etc)

Just a few things from this Month so far.
May 17th was 3 Months since my arm was broken. Its doing good. Won’t ever be 100%, but hopefully will get to at least 75. I love saying ‘My plates ache!’ just because it sounds so ridiculous. That and it’s true. And I just like whining.
The inside scar is 5 & 1/4 inches. Still very bright red, raised and very obvious. I think I’m getting a little self conscious about it. The outside one is thinner, going silver, not so dark, and 3 & 3/4th inches long. Yes, I do put Vitamin E oil on it. The bone actually buckled up near my elbow when the break(s) happened and that’s healing up pretty good. It used to be really swollen & painful, couldn’t put any weight on my elbow but it’s behaving now.

Mother’s Day was on the 13th last year, and it was also the day my Dad had his stroke. So both Mother’s Day last week and then the 13th were both weird days for me. The 30th will be one year since he died. Luckily my Mom was in England with her Family for three weeks, so she spent Mother’s Day there, and was actually on the flight back on the 13th. But she too, of course, remembered both days.
It’s very surreal still. Doesn’t feel like a year. Then again, it still doesn’t feel right that he’s gone.
Which reminds me, I wish ppl would stop talking to me about ‘God’. I have a problem with the fact that my Mother has lost her best friend and whole world and been left alone. Anywho, I’d better get off that subject (makes me angry).

Yes, I am extremely jealous I didn’t go to England with her. I haven’t been since I was 14. But I’ll get back there one day.

The 27th (of May) is another sad anniversary; 2 years since my Brother-in-law was shot multiple times and killed by police officers. I am dealing with that better this year. I have to get over some fierce anger and resentment and let some stuff go that will never be settled to my satisfaction.

Good stuff this Month is D*’s Birthday (5 years old!) was the 16th. He’s going to be out here on the 27/28th for 2 weeks.
Anywho, Darlin’ N*’s Birthday is the 31st. The year she was born the date fell on Memorial Day. She’ll be 4. She’s a wild little pony! She reminds me so much of C*, (my youngest daughter) the whole attitude thing. All I can say is I’m staying on her GOOD side!

And today, I actually left the house to go somewhere not a store or appointment. My Son-in-law insisted I go with them my oldest daughter and him) on a walk, so me, him, S*, Toby, C*, N*& T* (last 2 are my granddaughters) all did the small hike up a trail in East Layton to a spot by the little river. My face got some sun, my bad, I forgot sun block, now my normally red face anyway got even redder. I’m glad make up foundation was invented. I realized I am very out of shape (duh!). I also realized Toby is a strong swimmer!  Now, remember, he’s only 8 pounds at this time, half Chihuahuah half Mini Pin and the water is just crazy wild & rushing (Spring runoff in Northern Utah/Wasatch Mtn. range).

M* was standing ten feet or so away from where me & Toby were sitting on the low little bridge getting my feet splashed by the water rushing underneath, M* tossed a big rock in which made a huge splash and smacked against another rock, this sudden, loud noise scared the tar outta Toby and before I knew it, he had sproinged off into the rushing water! I’m screaming, C*is screaming, S*is screaming & M*s running towards the edge to try & rescue Toby (I couldn’t have gotten up fast enough, I’d have went right off the bridge too!) But luckily Toby had leaped in closer to the edge and a calmer spot, so after going under twice & almost getting swept away, he scrambled to shore. I think all our screaming and flailing about scared him more than his swim did. He dried off completely by the time we got back to the car, he only got tired once so I carried him for a while. I know when he wants to be picked up because he stops, stands sideways and looks up at me with his head kind of tilted.  I think he’s waiting for me to say ‘You want Mommy to pick you up?’ because I always do, then he turns himself so all I have to do is bend over & scoop him up & not even need to fumble him around to pick him up right. He’s not stupid, that’s fo sho.

Anywho, he’s been wore out all day and so have I. Only crazy white kids like mine would want to go hiking around in the middle of the day on the hottest day of the year so far.
And yes, I did whine all the way up, because I like to whine. It amuses me and that’s all that matters.

Originally written/posted;

Monday, May 26, 2008

I know what Memorial Day is. I know what it means. If anyone I knew were buried anywhere near me that’s where I’d be, and yes, I’ve been paying respects to Family/Friends and all those in the Military past & Present in My own way…
But it does suck being alone on Memorial Day when other Families are together barbecuing, picnicking, camping or even just making taco’s (yes, I’ve been craving taco’s for days now!) and watching the Monsterquest marathon on the History channel.
I’m really getting tired of pretending everything is okay.
I’ve been doing that since I was 5 I think.
So if I start going in another direction with things, please, feel free to stop reading. I know whiners irritate the shit outta me, so why shouldn’t I expect others to have the same aversions?
Now I know why kids join Gangs.
I know what I miss and loved most about being a tweeker…
And what one of the appealing qualities of The Mob is…
Family.
In all those 3 examples’ fucked up, twisted, wrong, misguided loyalties and convictions; I do envy their devotion to Family. Biological and self formed.

Speaking of Family; My Brother-in-law was killed 2 years ago tomorrow, the 27th.
Rest In Peace.
In some ways, you’re better off than some of us.

Being alone sucks. Being lonely is even worse.
Not, I’m not after pity. It is what it is, my life has turned out how it has. I’m exactly where I need to be for whatever reason I need to be here.
And my Daughters have turned out the way they have for whatever reason they needed to.

My kids don’t even read my blogs; I could write all kinds of stuff about them if I wanted to. I didn’t want to embarrass them in any way; not meaning talking shit on them, just stuff like declaring my White Trashed-ness, lol, that annoys the crap out of my youngest who likes to pretend I’m/we’re not who/what I am… She can do that. I can’t. I don’t want to.
I always wanted to be an actress…when I was a kid my Mom said I acted like cameras were following me around (I was kind of dramatic) they’re not (unless I’m having an exceptionally paranoid day) but just to make everyone else happy I have been acting.
I want my Oscar now.
This isn’t supposed to make all that much sense to y’all. It makes sense to me and its therapeutic blogging this somehow. So feel free to ignore. Sometimes this is more like online diary entries. But if you really like reading these mind vomits, that’s okay too.

~L

Originally written/posted;
Saturday, July 26, 2008

Now, don’t get me wrong, my Dad wasn’t an ‘evil’ cat hater. He and my Mother owned a big Male Siamese mix ‘Brandy’ when I was little. He passed away from distemper and my Mother said she thinks Dad was very hurt by Brandy’s passing and hardened himself to cats. We had only dogs after that, until I had to move back home after a separation in ‘98. I brought with me my then 6 year old Daughter and ‘her’ one year old cat, Flower. My Daughter named her because she said she was ‘as soft and beautiful as a flower’, not after the Disney/Bambi skunk.
I had owned Flower’s parents (they went to live w/ my In-laws, who already had cats as my Dad put his foot down about me bringing all the cats to his home, he only allowed Flower to come along because she was my Daughter’s (C*) cat and he ADORED her (even up until his death when C* was almost 15, he referred to her as ‘The Baby’!) so of course SHE could keep her beloved kitty with her!
Dad tolerated Flower. She’s a very good cat, but of course, a cat. He swore about having to replace a couple of screens she’d plucked, he swore at her for sleeping in the towel cabinet, he swore when she’d be meandering underfoot always in his path. And he behaved as if an electric eel landed in his lap if she dared to jump in his.
We lived there 3 years. Slowly, he began to warm to her. He gave her a nickname, ‘Yo-yo cat’ and was amused when she’d go on her cat freak-outs, running all over and launching off furniture. The first time she did it, he was convinced she’s gone rabid or something, I explained, no, cat’s just get a wild hair every now & then tearing around like they’re being chased by invisible clowns, it’s normal. He wasn’t convinced.
By the time we left my Parent’s home, I would catch him talking to her, smiling at her and even, daring to touch her! He even began including her in his tidbit handout sessions in which he would pull off little bits of whatever meat he was eating (he always ate dinner in the living room, on his TV tray) and hand out tidbits to his dogs, my two dogs, and Flower.
Fast forward to Mother’s Day, 2007.
My Dad had a massive brain stem stroke and was in the hospital in a coma.
My Parent’s now lived in Cortez, Colorado and I’m in Northern Utah still, so I got a cat sitter (I had 2 at the time, now I have 3, thanks a lot, C*) and away we went.
We spent 4 days talking to my Dad about everything we could think of, including reminding him of familiar stuff like the Grandkids’ names, the Great Grandbabies names, his dogs and my cats, etc. I’d tell him funny stories about them. And I told him Yo-yo cat would come sit on him and ‘drop’ her fur balls all over (she doesn’t shed, she drops fur balls!) if he didn’t get well.

He passed away on May 30th, 2007. 3 days later I had to come back to Utah again. Because of circumstances, we weren’t going to have his Funeral until June 8th.
June 3rd, I’m here in Utah and I wake up to Flower consuming yet again, another plastic bag! I have no clue what’s up with this silly cat, but her whole life she’s had a thing with chewing on plastic, esp shopping bags and even Styrofoam! So here she was again, chowing down on a blue bag that goes over newspapers delivered in bad weather, now that I think about it, these bags are thicker than just grocery bag types.  I chased her away from it and threw it out, as I looked at it, I noticed she’d gotten quite a bit off…but she’d been ‘chewing plastic’ for 10 years and I never gave it a second thought.
The next morning, it was obvious Flower was ill.
She went downhill from there. Not eating, not drinking, and vomiting little bits of the blue plastic bag up. We gave her water thru a children’s medicine dropper and hoped she’d vomit up all of the plastic over time, as that’s what her Veterinarian and I were certain the problem was.
The Vet had told us there really wasn’t much he could do…
The next day she was worse. She laid in the bathroom barley breathing or moving. By that night, we knew she was going to die. She looked so scraggly and matted, her eyes blank, her breathing shallow, and she had the unmistakable smell of death. I called my oldest Daughter to come over and say her goodbyes, because in the Morning, we would have no choice but to take her in and have her put to sleep, we couldn’t let her suffer any longer and the next Morning we would be leaving to my Dad’s Funeral. It was almost too much to handle. We all took turns sitting and laying in the bathroom next to her. We kept the lights out; she was visibly uncomfortable with them on. We kept giving her the water, tempting her with bits of steak & chicken…talking to her, singing to her, gently stroking her. Even my Grandchildren knew something was wrong. They were so quiet while over here, and would crawl into the bathroom on hands & knees, then lie on their bellies, slide up to her and talk so softly and sweetly to her.
The death smell almost became overwhelming. The night was long, sleepless, tear filled and horrible. I fell asleep 3 feet from Flower, I laid down in the hallway, facing her still in the bathroom. This was around 4am.
As I fell asleep, I was thinking of so much, her, my Dad, my Mom… and I was sad we’d be losing 2 loved one’s at once. It wasn’t right, for C* to lose her Granddad and her cat in the same week. Then I thought to myself, and maybe it was even a prayer, even though I don’t pray anymore; ‘Dad, please take care of Yo-yo cat when she joins you on the other side, so we know she’s okay, and you’ll have some company too.’
I fell asleep imagining my Dad finally sitting and accepting Flower on his lap and petting her.
Now, remember, my Dad just adores C*. I KNOW he would do anything for her. I have 2 daughters and my parents love them both, but it’s just how it happened that my oldest, is very close to her Paternal side and since I was so young when I had her, they had a big hand in helping me raise her, she spent probably more than half of her time with them, until going to live with them permanently at 7. I spent almost my entire pregnancy with C* and after she was born, living with my parents, so they were very involved with C*’s childhood and had much more of a chance to bond with her in a way they unfortunately hadn’t with S*.
Bottom line; My Father would do ANYTHING for C*.
And he did.
I remember dreaming about him. Nothing unusual about that considering the circumstances (I didn’t remember him saying anything until I had gotten to Cortez and was relating the story to my Mom).
When I woke up in the hallway, I was sure Flower would be gone. If not, I would begin waking everyone up and we’d drive to the vet and sitting with Flower on our laps as she left us. Then we would come home and pack the car. I had even arranged for Flowers burial, on the quarter acre between my Husband’s (we were separated again, but stayed friends) Parent’s and Sister’s homes, where countless pets over 3 decades have been laid to rest, including Flower’s Father (Abra) and just recently, Mother (Poof). That would be the last thing we did before leaving to my dad’s funeral.
I opened my eyes and looked into the bathroom.
The towel where Flower had been laying was empty! My first thought was ’she’s died and her entire body’s been taken up!’ I don’t know why I thought this, its hysterical now, like she was some kind of Saint that was drawn up to Heaven in a chorus of Angels. Second thought was that she’d obviously, crawled off to an even darker, more private place for her final moments. I began getting myself up off the floor to search her body out before I woke the girls up and maybe wrap her in a soft blankie. Then I heard a crunch-crunch noise. Blight, my other cat, was eating in the kitchen. I wondered what she thought. If she understood. As I was walking into the kitchen to greet my Blight, I was met by a surreal image…it wasn’t Blight, it was Flower! I shrieked! She had eaten the chicken and tuna we’d been trying to tempt her with and had now leaped up on the cats little food table and was chowing down on dry food! She looked fabulous! No matted, scrawny coat, no deathly smell, no pale gum’s, no foam around her nose and mouth!!! At my shriek, everyone came running and gasped in disbelief and relief! Flower simply swallowed, turned to us and meowed! From that moment on, it was as if nothing had ever been wrong with her!
I don’t know why, but out of my mouth came the words ”Thank You, Dad!” C* looked at me and said ”That’s exactly what I was thinking! Granddad doesn’t want my ‘big, poofy old cat’ with him yet!”
As for what I remember him saying after I’d gotten back to Cortez, it was something like ‘I told you that cat was a Yo-yo, eating plastic!’ in a teasing tone. But I KNEW it meant he was going to make sure she was alright.
She’ll be 12 in April, very full of life, still having her freak-out attacks, still trying to chew on plastic…she’s almost a full time job, but she’s worth it.

~L

Originally written/posted;
Friday, June 01, 2007

My Father passed away May 30th at 8:26 am Wednesday Morning, in Cortez, Colorado (Four Corners region). I’ve just gotten back into Utah (it’s only a 6 1/2 hour drive, one way) and I’ll be headed back out again next Wednesday or for his service on Friday in Cortez. I didn’t want to leave my Mom but have things to take care of here, again, of course, and she has members of Dad’s family close by, plus her Sister (the only sibling she has) will be flying over from England soon.
Dad is no longer in pain, and has no more worries. As for the rest of us, we go on.
Now if my wonderful little Probe will hold out for me a while longer! That poor little car, she needs a bath something awful, and the usual routine maint. Not to mention a good, thorough radiator flush! And I’ve learned my lesson about procrastinating (and being thrifty) not getting the A/C charged! That’s 1st on my list B4 I hit the highway next week!
Thanx for everyone’s kind words and thoughts & prayers, no matter what we all believe, the intent is all that matters, and all prayers are heard. So thank you.

Originally written/posted;
Thursday, May 24th 2007

Just checking in to let some of you know what’s up since I haven’t been replying to messages or comments for a while, or even been online much at all. I had been taking a little vacation from here (*my old blog on another site) for a few weeks, nothing serious, just needed to sort some stuff out in my head & catch up on the outside world a bit.  Then on Mother’s Day I called my Mother and got no answer. Unusual for my parents; yes, they are homebodies and border on anti-social, still they could have been off fishing or been forced to show up at some family thing.
My parent’s lived out here almost my whole life, my dad was Air Force and we were stationed here still when he retired, so we just ended up staying here.
He is from Colorado, the Four Corners/Durango area, and finally three years ago, having both retired, moved on down (or up) to Cortez.
The next day, again, no answer, so I started hunting down my aunts phone numbers, and since I had moved last year, and also wiped my hard drive I couldn’t find any of their numbers, so I called information, got only one number (how dare my relatives have unlisted numbers!) and of course it was for the one Aunt I knew would probably be out and about, so when I got their answering machine, I left a message that I was getting paranoid and tell my mom to call me…
My daughter always trusts her instincts more than I do, I over analyze and try to eliminate everything else before I act on mine, she persisted I needed to get a hold of someone, so I started calling the hospitals and finally the Cortez police. The officer said he got requests to drop by and check on people all the time, no problem, and he’d get back to me soon. 20 minutes later he calls me from the hospital (I’d called the wrong one) and put my mom on the phone, my dad (who is 71) had a brainstem stroke on Mother’s Day and was in a coma. He’d had a series of smaller strokes in the days leading up to this one, but they weren’t aware they were strokes, he had been tired and weak and even fell down a few times so he’d been in for tests at the end of that week and were going for the results Monday. He had gone to bed Sunday afternoon, feeling tired, and around 3 my mom had tried to wake him up and he was unresponsive, so she called the ambulance.    Mom had only just called my Aunts a few hours before I managed to get a hold of her. She was of course, in shock and all, I’m sure. They’ve been married 48 years and together for 50 years. They met when my dad was stationed in England, they dated for the two years he was there, got married in mom’s hometown in the 600 year old church she was baptized in, etc. etc. and she’s been here ever since.
She later said she couldn’t bring herself to call anyone right off because then she would have to admit to herself this was really happening.
Me and my youngest spent half the day scrambling to pull our stuff together, throw it in the car, do a car guts check so it would actually make it to Cortez and back, arrange for a house/cat & fish sitter, (who happened to be my most wonderful friend, Tony) grab our travelin’ supplies and finally hit the road which wasn’t until just after 8pm.
My oldest daughter, her Fiancé and my oldest granddaughter decided to follow us out, but ended up leaving a couple of hours after I did. She’s expecting grand baby #3, and has been having some complications off & on, so we weren’t comfortable with her traveling and under the emotional circumstances… but she’s like me, she’d pick up her own severed head and stumble around till she got where she wanted to go while dragging along a rabid crocodile chomping on her leg.

We got into Cortez at 3:30 am and drove strait to the hospital.
He had developed pneumonia the day before, but was doing pretty well, and had actually started responding to voices and trying to open his eyes.
All the details aside, we did what we could down there, came back Monday night as he was seeming to have stabilized and I felt okay heading home to get things here squared away enough to be comfortable with leaving for a longer period.
As we expected, things don’t look good and have deteriorated, so I’m on my way back to Cortez tomorrow morning. On my own this time. The girls have said their ‘I love you’s’ to their Grandad, spent their time with him and were able to say goodbye. They need to attend to life here for now.

I’ll be driving on the triple 6 highway once again, they can rename it 491 all they want, I’ll always call it the triple 6. I’ve been up and down that road all my life, half my dad’s relatives live in that area of Colorado & NM. I’ve been on it day, night, rain & shine, snow, even stopped for an emergency pee break on it. I always knew it wasn’t just another highway, I’d heard and read about the history, I knew all the stories about reported supernatural experiences & what not, and of course I knew what the number itself is supposed to represent… This last trip I didn’t need to drive the older, original part, actually considered the active, ‘haunted’ stretch, which would be from Cortez to Gallup, NM. I’m going to make a point of seeing/driving that part maybe next Summer. It’s my thing.
I have no idea how long I’ll be down there, and I won’t have too much access to the internet. My kingdom for a laptop and traveling internet!
Well, the only positive is its Spring and I don’t have to drive over Soldiers Summit in another blizzard… that was scarier than anything hwy 666 could throw at me!

Originally written/posted;
Friday, June 20, 2008

I hate everybody and I’m never leaving the house again.
So there.
I mean, aside from having to take Toby out. In the dark.

I have had a shitty week, plain & simple. It’s not one of those fucked up weeks, just shitty. The kind where you’re just plagued by little dumb things like dumping your purse on the floor of the car, whacking your gimpy arm (or as the girls call it; my ’strong arm’. If you’ve seen Scary Movie 2, you’ll know what I’m talking about) on door frames, your hair never going right, driving all the way to Sunset in the freakin’ heat w/ no a/c just for Chinese, thinking you’re cool because you made it before they closed and some snobby soccer mom in front of you, knowing your behind them, loudly orders the remainder of the eggrolls AND potstickers!
So this is how the week started…I was walking Toby, and I had gotten brave, I went a different route and at an earlier time of day. So I’m walking past a house w/ a huge backyard that spills out into an extra side yard, there are several 4 to 6 year olds swinging & meandering about and one of them catches sight of me going by w/ Toby and I hear him say; ‘Look, A Fat Old Lady Walking Her Little Dog.’ Then one of the other kids mimics what the first just said and by the time I get past the house, a few of them have repeated it in monotone, you know how little kids are, I mean, if they meant to be snot heads, they’d have said it louder and in a sing-song, but the kid was just making an observation. I was shocked & embarrassed for about 2.5 seconds, then I realized, I always get defensive too quick, they were young kids, that’s what kids do, they were making an obviously correct observation and ya, someone my age would look ‘old’ to a five year old.
I came home & told Cajun about it, got it off my chest and put it in context, but it kind of defined my week from there on out, stuff kept happening that just hurt my fat old feelings and caused me to ponder my purpose on the planet more vividly than usual.
I’m rarely happy. I have those brief moments of happiness, but not significant lengths of time where I’m content and just living my life.
So we decided I need a change. If you remember last year, I went through a hair dying fiasco, I think most of it was because it was during my Father’s illness and passing away, and I could control all the bizarre shit I was doing with my hair when everything else was out of control. I ended up cutting a foot of it off, cuz I’d fried it. I’ve let it grow out, but everything that grew out was still fried.
So I went & had it cut. I mean cut. I haven’t had my hair this short since I was like, ten. It was the year Grease came out in theaters, I know that much. It’s short, but I like it, I swear I feel 5 pounds lighter! In all, they cut off about ten inches.
So go on a diet and lose weight you say..? I’m working on it. And that’s a story I don’t have the energy to go into right now. Just when I think I’ve gotten to the source of the problem, and start heading in the right direction, I de-rail myself.
So in conclusion, I’m sticking with my familiar route and early evening walk time which is just before it’s too dark to see, that’s all I need, trip & fall in a ditch & end up re-breaking my arm and being trampled by a field of mommy & baby cows.
I was proud of myself for getting out of the house in the first place & walking everyday. I’ve been skipping days this week, I guess the kid thing bugged me more than it should have. So I’m trying to talk myself into getting back on track. Maybe I should think about getting a tread mill.

~AFOLWHLD

I have been a member of one of the popular social sites for a few years and thought I would be content with my blog there. It seems I have not only outgrown it, but desire some degree of anonymity that is impossible on a site I’ve filled with high school friends, in-laws, ex in-laws, cousins and children. These posts are still part of what I’m trying to express of myself in a broader blog experience. Some of it is also background info I’m honestly too lazy to re-write, and don’t see a good reason to if it’s there already and I can slap it on up here easily.

That’s the short answer.