My unsolicited opinion on just about everything

Dear "Debra Jennings" AKA dj20956@gmail.com

2012-01-25T13:27:00.001-08:00

Being unemployed is horribly boring. I applied for about a zillion jobs since having mine stolen from me (she says with out a hint of bitterness), but to no avail. I'm either not qualified or over-qualified. Not qualified I can understand, but OVER-qualified? What if I WANT to work at McDonalds? Okay, I'm kidding, McDonald's didn't say I was over-qualified.

Subway did.

Sigh. The worst part is, I'm only half kidding.

So anyhow, looking for a job sucks, especially when you can't find one. So imagine my surprise when I received an e-mail from someone (who I thought was from my church) looking for a personal assistant. If I hadn't been volunteering with some of the ladies from the church just yesterday [where I mentioned I was looking for a job] I probably would have recognized this for what it was (scam!) but being out of work for so long has addle-patted my brain. Improved my vocabulary* perhaps, but seriously weakening my thinking muscles.

Before I post the exchange of e-mails between me and whoever this crappy scam artist is, I want to take a minute to say that it really stinks that there are people like this. People who are lazy. People who are selfish. People who are so...torpid. People who have become so content with their sedentary lifestyles that they would rather invest what little energy they can still manage to muster on taking advantage of people. All that time wasted on something so worthless, so pointless. It's terrible! How does this person (man, woman, circus monkey, whatever) sleep at night? What is even the point of this? I'm guessing it's to get people's information to sell to telemarketers, but that's just a theory. All I know is that if an internet stranger asks you for it, take Nancy Reagan's advice and just say no.

Sigh. Big, loud, irritated sigh. Anyway, here's what happened:

From: Debra Jennings <dj20956@gmail.com>
To: clevergirl17@sbcglobal.net
Sent: Wed, January 25, 2012 12:14:31 PM
Subject: Job Offer !!!

Would you like to work as a Personal Assistant? Please let me know ASAP. Thanks,

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Wed, Jan 25, 2012 at 8:51 AM, Lindsey Keefauver <clevergirl17@sbcglobal.net> wrote:

I've been unemployed for far too long and would welcome the chance to get back to the working world. Who would I be working for?

-----------------------------------------------------------

From: Debra Jennings
To: Lindsey Keefauver
Sent: Wed, January 25, 2012 12:52:22 PM
Subject: Re: Job Offer !!!

Dear Applicant,

I'm looking for someone that can be trusted, someone with good working skills. I'm a lawyer by profession and I have been pretty successful in a handful of ventures I get involved in. I most very often get my hands occupied so it is imperative for me to have a worthy assistant who can monitor and keep me up to date with my activities. This position is home-based and flexible, working with me is basically about instructions and following them. My only fear is that I may come at you impromptu sometimes so I need someone who can be able to meet up with my irregular timings.

As my personal assistant, your activities among others will include:
*Create and modify documents using Microsoft Office
*Running personal errands, supervisions and monitoring.
*Scheduling programs, flights and keeping me up to date with them.
*Acting as an alternative telephone correspondence while I'm away.
*Making regular contacts and drop-offs on my behalf.
*Handling and monitoring some of my financial activities..
*Basic wage is $1,600 a month.

QUALIFICATION REQUIREMENTS:
*Must be honest, reliable & dependable
*Excellent verbal & written communication skills
*Must have strong problem solving skills
*Must be organized & extremely detail oriented
*A willingness to do whatever needs to be done is a must

I'm sure you'll understand I tend to have a very busy schedule at this point as I am presently in England for a summit. I will be back in Six Weeks time. Please note that this position is not office based for now because of my frequent travels and tight schedules. It is a part-time, work from home basis and the flexibility means that there will be busier weeks than others. So it is a little difficult judging the exact number of hours you'll be doing per week. If you can manage your time properly, this job may even give you some extra funds while you do something else on the side. As I have said, I'd want us to get a head start with things as soon as possible. I do have a pile up of work and a number of unattended chores which you can immediately assist me with. I hope we can meet up with the workload eventually. Permit me to use the coming week to test your efficiency and diligence towards all this, also to work out your time schedule and fit it to mine. I really need to find the perfect person for this job and I am confident you can take up the challenges. On the long run we should have a relatively sound working relationship between us.

I'm online most of the time as I am hard of hearing so I prefer we contact each other through emails but if there is need for me to call, I will be glad to do that. I am glad you are willing to work with me and I promise to be a good boss. I have been checking my files and what I would want you to do for me is to run some errands out to some of the Charity home which I do every month. The payment will be in form of Certified check and it will be sent over to you from one of my agents and I have some list to email you once you received the funds.

PLEASE FILL THE APPLICATION FORM BELOW:

Full Name:
Address:
City:
State:
Zip Code:
Work Phone #(s):
Home Phone #(s):
Cell Phone #(s):
Email:
Age:
Occupation:

Once I have received your application form, I will get back to you with the task for the week ahead. Please understand that you will also be paid ($400 a week) as well as its important for me to make the necessary steps before I get back from my business trip. I hope i am clear with that?

POSITION/AVAILABILITY:

Position Applied For_________________

How often do you check your email:______________
Specify the hours that you will be available if my schedule doesn't work with the hours i requested

Days/Hours You will be available:
Monday____
Tuesday____
Wednesday____
Thursday____
Friday____
Saturday____
Sunday____

Hours Available: from_______ to______

What date are you available to start work?________________

Please get back to me ASAP.

Thanks,
---------------------------------------------------------------

On Wed, Jan 25, 2012 at 10:51 AM, Lindsey Keefauver <clevergirl17@sbcglobal.net> wrote:
So I'm just dying to know-does anyone actually fall for this garbage?? FYI, the grammar is off (i.e. "I have some list to email you","most very often get my hands occupied" ,"I may come at you impromptu sometimes", "run some errands out to some of the Charity home" ), your punctuation is sloppy at the bottom (i.e. no apostrophe in "its", lack of capitalization, and phrasing the following statement as a question: "I hope i am clear with that?") and the thing about "and I promise to be a good boss" is laughable. Where are you from, Mars? People don't speak like that, especially not lawyers in positions of perceived authority

You ought to be ashamed of yourself, trying to scam people! Sheesh! The world is full of hardworking people, and lazy morons like you drag the rest of us down! Now, if you will excuse me, I am an honest, hardworking person who is actually looking for a REAL job, not some sloth-minded indolent LOSER whose only "job" is trying to fleece unsuspecting people out of their information.

What's that? I'm crazy? This is, in fact, a REAL job offer from a REAL person? A thousand apologies, m'lady.

Tell you what, "Debra"; why don't you go ahead and send me one of your cards. Surely a lawyer such as yourself would have business cards, right? Since you're a real person and all. So send me a card. Or something on your company's letter head. Or your office phone number. Or the link to your company's website (the company that remains suspiciously nameless). Or a link to your facebook/myspace/linkedin page, something, ANYTHING to prove me wrong, and I'll eat my hilarious words.

Until then, I hope you get what's coming to you. Preferably in the form of an eighteen wheeler. :-)

Happy Wednesday!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So that was *my* Wednesday afternoon. Coming up tomorrow: Thursday!

*How can being unemployed improve your vocabulary? Try taking a daily pilgrimage to your local library...I average eight books (and no jobs) a week.

GEICO car insurance-Giving Everybody Incredibly Crazy Overdrafts

2011-08-08T13:55:00.000-07:00

If I had known that GEICO stood for Government Insurance Employees Company, I would NEVER have signed on with them. Government workers are the worst-and I should know since I used to be one. Of course at my job, I didn't just tell people whatever they wanted to hear to get them off the phone and make them someone else's problem for someone else's day. But hey, that's just me. Anyhow, this is the [some, if not all, content edited for entertainment purposes] letter that I'm sending to GEICO, my NEW insurance company, my bank, and various websites where people like to complain about things (like this one!)

Dear GEICO:

First of all, I would like to thank you for mailing my new insurance cards to my old address, especially since you had been sending the bills and promotional fliers to the correct address this whole time. You knew where to take the money from, but not where to send the documents to. O.....K. But hey, at least by sending them to the wrong address, you gave my crazy ex a reason to contact me-that's always fun! And then when I called to remind you of the change in address, I was told that because I had moved to a different location, my insurance was going up thirty dollars a month-that's an increase of three hundred and sixty dollars a year! Keep in mind I only moved six miles away-that works out to sixty dollars a mile! It's not like I moved to the Bronx in the NYC!

Once I found out that my rate would be increasing, I wanted to know WHEN I would have to start making these additional payments, and when I mentioned that I may have to cancel my policy, I was told that as long as I cancelled before the date that the funds were scheduled to be deducted from my bank (I foolishly enrolled in their EFT program-there's a mistake I'll never make again), that I would not have to pay the increase for that month (which means paying no increase at ALL because July would have been the first month that it would have cost me more). So I called GEICO on July 16th and informed them that I had found a new insurance company and wanted to cancel my insurance and any future payments.

Imagine my surprise when three days later, on July 19th, that greedy little gecko bastard helped himself to TWO HUNDRED AND ONE of my hard earned dollars! My normal monthly payment is for $130, so god only knows why they stuffed an extra seventy in their greedy little pockets. I didn't find out they had taken the money until I got two overdraft notices from my bank (One for GEICO's illegally-gotten gains, and one for my new insurance company's payment-sorry guys!!). Those two overdraft fees cost me fifty two dollars. So now, I'm out two hundred and fifty three dollars and I call GEICO to tell them that they need to pay these overdraft fees since the only reason those two checks bounced was because they took money that they weren't authorized to take! I'm unemployed and I live check to check. I don't have an extra two hundred dollars just lying around in my bank account. Heck, I don't have an extra two dollars in there. I only wish I were exaggerating.

I explained this to the person I spoke with and she pretty much said, sorry, not our problem. I was told I would get my EFT payment back ("All of it?" I asked. "The whole $201" she assured me.) but they do not refund bank fees-that's their policy. Also, they will send me my money back, but that check wouldn't be mailed until the first of August-and keep in mind that this was July 22nd or 23rd, so the first was still a long time to wait for two hundred dollars. Especially considering that said check didn't actually arrive until the sixth. So imagine my surprise when I open my mail to discover a refund check in the amount of $166.80. What the H? Where's the rest of my money?

When I spoke with someone in customer service (for the THIRD time-all just to cancel my insurance!) he informed me that the money they kept (STOLE) was to cover the increase for the month of July-the very same increase I was told I wouldn't have to pay! And even if that was for the increase like they're claiming, the bill they sent me said the balance was $43.68, and that plus the $166.80 is $210. They didn't get $210. They got $201. The difference was $43 not $34. Some people may think I'm foolish for pointing out to the useless GEICO people that they should have kept MORE of my money, but I was just pointing out that their math, logic, and underhanded thieving tactics are, at best, skewed and nonsensical.

So the guy I spoke with today pretty much said "sorry, there's nothing I can (i.e. will) do for you, have a nice today, bye". I decided I was tired of taking to the call-bank phone-jockey's and their ability to do absolutely nothing; I asked to speak to a supervisor. "No problem" the guy said, then he put me on hold for a quick second while he transferred me over to a higher-up person. Then the same non-supervising-can't-do-anything-to-help-you guy got back on the line and said that all the supervisors were currently handling other calls, and he said he would take my name and number and someone would be contacting me within the next two hours. It has now been four, and seeing as how it's 5:30 pm (after normal business hours) I would wager to guess that no one is going to be calling me tonight. Or tomorrow for that matter.

The lack of customer service I have experienced while being a GEICO customer is absolutely appalling. Not only have I cancelled my own insurance, but from here on out, I will be sure to tell everyone that I know who has a car, house, boat, motorcycle, scooter, expensive roller skates, or anything else that you could possibly insure, that to insure with GEICO will cause nothing but headaches (and an empty bank account). I have already informed my bank** not to authorize any further withdrawal's from your company, and they will be in contact with you regarding the fifty two dollars in overdraft fees that were a direct result of your companies egregious error.

And lastly, I will be contacting the better business bureau regarding your policy of keeping funds to which you are not entitled and your failure to notify me in writing of the change in my policy (I was told over the phone that I would get a letter further explaining the rate increase, and despite having my correct address, said letter was never received. I'm still waiting for an explanation as to why moving six miles away caused my rates to increase so drastically). As of this writing, my sister has decided to terminate her insurance policy with GEICO, and my boyfriend has opted to cancel his motorcycle insurance; after hearing what I have to say, it's only a matter of time before others follow suit.

On a more cheerful note, thank you Mercury for being so wonderful! You know with Mercury Insurance, I don't just get whoever happens to answer the phone at some big nameless, faceless call center. I talk to an agent who actually knows who I am. When I was with GEICO, they people on the other end of the phone would just tell me whatever I wanted to hear in order to get me off the phone, and cancelling my policy was a nightmare! I'm so glad I finally found a company that works for me, not against me (and the fact that they saved me hundreds of dollars makes it all that much better). I always thought that those "real" quotes from "real" customers were all made up by some stuffy guy in a suite, but now I completely understand why people feel compelled to write in and say "Your company is AMAZING". Going from GEICO to Mercury is like going from a Walkman to an Ipad. Once you see how good it can be, you won't settle for anything less.

Sincerely,

Lindsey K.

**********************************************

So here's today's Dear Abby question*

Dear Abby,
A relative who shall remain nameless (we're very close), recently confided in another relative that she felt left out because I had yet to invite her to my home for lunch. Well Abby, this relative tells me I'm fat! Between asking "are you REALLY going to eat ALL of that" to asking other guests at my house if I looked bigger to them, it really makes me uncomfortable. She even wanted me to ask my doctor if I should go on a diet. He said that at 5ft 6in and 136 lbs**, I fell perfectly within the normal range on the BMI scale. I know I'm not fat, but I still don't want to hear it all the time, especially not if I'm inviting someone to my house to eat. How can I convey to her that I would love to spend more time with her if she would just ease up on me a little bit?

-Sincerely, Healthily Hungry

*by which I mean MY question for Dear Abby, not the one in the paper. For the record, I wouldn't actually send this question to Dear Abby-I already wrote to her once about someone calling me fat and how I didn't like it, and that got printed in the paper. I wouldn't want to take up another column with the same question. I'm actually writing in with another, much more important question that I sent in which I will happily print if and when my letter should get chosen. Can you only get advice once? Seems kind of mean. I've had a lot of important things happen in my life, a lot of opportunities to ask others for their opinion. I hope I haven't used my own and only chance at asking Dear Abby a question on something as pedantic as my weight.

**in combats boots. Hey, I'm a girl. I can't be expected not to clarify something like that-combat boots are heavy! Next time I'll remember to wear flip-flops. :-)

I didn't LOSE it, it was TAKEN! Big difference.

2011-03-02T10:07:00.000-08:00

So yesterday I went to a really awesome high school, and coming from someone who attended five high schools in three years, that's really saying something. This particular school focus more on independent learning, so the schedule is looser and allows you to pursue subjects that you're actually interested in. A novel concept, right? Right. So anyhow, some of the students are working on a documentary about women's health and health insurance issues and a friend of mine volunteered me and my great big mouth to be interviewed. It was great; I talked until the camera battery died.

Somehow in the midst of this documentary, the question "Why did you lose your job" came up and I was actually (momentarily) at a loss for words. Why did I lose my job...that's a good question. I'd been a state worker for five years with almost four years at the Department [in need] of Corrections. I did my work, got along with my co-workers, and tried not to abuse the system too much. Did I take an extra twenty minutes at lunch sometimes? Of course. Did I surf the internet and read "Dear Abby" when I had nothing to do. Totally. Did I make personal calls from my work phone. Occasionally (and sometimes loudly). Did I take the long way back to my desk so I could stop and have a chat with a work buddy? Absolutely. But I was certainly better then my "supervisor" Linda "J is for Jerk" Jennings. I didn't fall asleep at my desk and get drool on my chair. I didn't order my anti-depressants online at work and leave the receipt in the printer so people would feel sorry for me. I didn't try and pressure my sub-ordinates into buying ridiculously expensive kitchen ware from my "home business" [i.e. lonely middle-aged women trying to sell overpriced candle holders out of a catalog for a two dollar commission]. I didn't show up for work forty five minutes late only to leave ten minutes later with ANOTHER tardy employee to go buy donuts on what turned into an hour long shopping expedition. I didn't leave early to get my nails done. I didn't answer co-workers questions with a sing-song "O-tay!" every time they asked me something. I didn't leave my disgusting diet hot dog in the fridge for months while complaining every day how fat I am and can never lose weight. I didn't "forget to set my alarm" TWICE in a one month period and stroll in to the office an hour late. I didn't allow employees to show up to work drunk, on numerous occasions without taking any sort of disciplinary action [an situation that she was officially reprimanded for]. And of course, I didn't tell an employee that getting a e-mail from some random co-worker talking about her breast size was not inappropriate because the guy who sent it is gay. How is it that the same guy who sent me an e-mail telling me "now your trainings can come off and you can get it on" can then be put in the position of being my supervisor, and then FIRE me?? Claiming I didn't call into my supervisor when a.) my supervisor on vacation and b.) I DID call in [and showed them the phone records to prove it]! Seriously, how is that okay? Bunch of no good, lousy jerks. I really didn't intended for this blog to turn into a rant about how ridiculous all of my former co-workers are. I mean, I could easily go on for HOURS about those people. Gerri Vilhaur, the loud mouth woman who reeks of cigarettes and desperation. Jorge Leon, the stalker who's losing his hair. Paula Jones, the emotional train wreck. Kandie Smith and her fourteen pounds of eyeliner. Kenneth Ray Martin, hiding behind his sexual orientation to justify his inappropriate behavior. And of course, Linda J. Jennings. I suppose I've said enough about her but honestly, she came out to the meeting [that was SUPPOSED to be a Coleman hearing], took time off from working just to watch me get fired. She didn't say a word, just stroked her chins nervously and heaved herself towards the door the second the meeting adjourned. I hope she's ashamed of herself. I hope they're all ashamed of themselves, though something tells me they're not even the slightest bit contrite. And they treated me terribly. Firing me on Christmas Eve! Filing restraining orders! Trying to ban me from the building! Trying to shut down my ridiculously hilarious blog! Idiots. Oh, and now I have to get someone to actually talk to me, not just ignore my e-mails and phone calls. I'm going to go back to school to become a licensed drug and alcohol counselor and as such I *may* wish to work within the prison system at some point. Since the bitter old hag club banded together to prevent me from working for the department [in need] of corrections, I need to have that lifted. I'm pretty sure what they did wasn't entirely legal [of course, neither was my supposed "Coleman hearing" and that didn't stop them from firing me] and should therefore be rather easy to rectify-you know, once someone actually *responds*. And if they don't get back to me fast enough, I'll just take my pretty little self right down to the building.And why not?

After all, it's not like I was ever ordered to stay away. :-)

Hi-di-ly-ho, neighbor-ino!

2011-02-07T08:13:00.000-08:00

Ha. Blogger's spell-check did *not* like that title.

We're moving! We're getting a house, an awesome house, a BIG house-a house that we haven't actually seen the inside of yet. It's not as crazy as it sounds, I swear. My grandparents own some property and they had to evict the tenants who live next door to them. So guess where we're moving! Yup, right next door to my grandparents! Crazy, no? And the current tenants aren't moving out until the twentieth, so we can't see the inside of the house until they move out. I've been in that house before, a long, long time ago, probably right before these people moved in-and they've lived there for eight years. The floor plan is the same as my grandparents, only without the additions and one less bathroom. But it's super big! Three bedrooms, kitchen AND dining room, living room with a fire place, kitchen with a DISHWASHER, a service porch (with washer dryer hookups-and possibly with a dryer!), our own garage, three car driveway, and a nice big backyard (with a secret path that leads straight to my grandparents). I'm very excited. And it may sound unwise to move next door to my grandparents, we're not really going to be *that* close. The house we're moving into is on the corner lot, facing away from my grandparents house-our address isn't even going to put us on the same street. They live on 55th street and we're moving to 36th ave. We're about as far away as you could be and still be next door. It's awesome. And I'm going to save so much money on food! I can go next door to make myself a sandwich every day! And I already told my grandma that until we get our own washer and dryer, I'll be bringing my dirty laundry to their place. She seemed pretty excited about it. ;-)

This move is happening fast. Twenty two days-maybe a little less. My grandparents said we could start moving our stuff in as soon as the people there now get all their stuff out so once they're out, we're in! I've never had a house with someone. I've never had a garage or a lawn or any of those awesome house related things. And my old elementary school is only a block away-think they need some Lindsey related help? I think they do! I would love to do anything there-work in the office, help in the classroom, yard duty, cafeteria help, you name it, I'll do it. Speaking of doing things, I'm afraid I'm going to have to wrap this up. I've got a *ton* of stuff I have to do. I'm having a yard sale at my mother's this Saturday (one day only!) in order to de-clutter before the move and to raise money for the deposit (Five hundred dollars by March 1st...I can totally do that!). My mom's helped me find some pretty awesome things to sell. She uncovered some appliances and video game systems, two things that people like to find in their bargain hunting. I've got some books and movies that I need to rid myself of and I've got some cute clothes that I don't wear enough to justify keeping. Plus I'm going to sell delicious baked goods too-that's usually a good way to raise some dollars. Who doesn't love a freshly baked cupcake? (Or a nice cup of coffee and a donut, which is what I plan to sell in the AM, because who wants a cupcake at eight o'clock in the morning? Besides me, I mean. Heh.)

So wish me luck with my adventures, and fingers crossed that the skies stay clear this Saturday. No one likes to eat cookies in the rain.

Dear Sacramento 420 Evaluations,

2011-01-19T14:25:00.001-08:00

I had hoped to be able to leave a review on your actual website but it looks as though this just goes straight to whoever is in charge of moderating your comments. That's fine. Since I can't post my review to you directly, I'll be posting it on other Sacramento cannabis club review websites because I think it's very important that everyone knows just how terrible you are.

I needed to obtain a copy of my prescription and when I called your office to inquire about receiving a replacement, I was first told that your office doesn't keep any records or paperwork of any kind on any patient (which is perhaps the most irresponsible and ridiculous thing I've ever heard of-if it's even true. How in the *world* does a doctors office not keep any sort of records on their patients? That doesn't make any sense.) Then I was told that since my doctor no longer works there (which is odd because your office has been open barely four months and you've already lost your head of staff) I would need to come in and see another doctor which would cost me sixty dollars-that's the same price as other *good* offices charge as a license renewal fee! I'm happy to pay a reasonable fee for a copy of my paperwork (ten dollars is the going rate for places who actually know how to retain their customers) but forty dollars is completely unreasonable. The woman who I spoke with on the phone was incredibly rude. She said I was "irritating" her, she said my lost paperwork was "not her problem", she told me to stop "screaming and yelling" and said she would talk to me "when I could calm down and have a conversation like a grown up". What did I do to unleash this barrage of ridiculousness? You tell me! I asked why I would have to come in and see another doctor and pay another forty dollars when I had already paid your office their full fee-plus the extra twenty dollars for a photo ID (with blurry photo and my doctor's name misspelled) [a charge that neither your laminated business cards nor website mention anywhere] and when I told her that she was being the worst customer service representative that I've ever had to deal with, I asked for her name and she refused to tell it to me. Twice. Then she hung up on me.

I've filed a complaint with the better business bureau. I'm telling all the shops that I frequent about the terrible experience I had with your office. I've also been sure to remove and dispose of your business cards since they still list Dr. Poirier as running your office and as we all know, he no longer works there. So really, I'm doing you a favor by disposing of your outdated material. You're welcome.

I recommend you use this as a learning experience and start training your employees properly. When a customer is asking a question, be quiet and listen. You can't answer the question if you don't hear what it is. You never tell a customer they're "irritating" you, you never tell them to "act like a grown up" and you certainly never hang up on them.

Luckily, medical marijuana laws are becoming more lax to the extent that there are many more places these days where someone can obtain a license from a wider variety of providers. I made the mistake of selecting your office because you were inexpensive and man, I sure did get what I paid for. I will be going to a more expensive, but legitimate, office to obtain a renewal. As for your so called "business", in between your revolving door of doctors, shady pricing practices, non-existent record keeping and appallingly bad customer service, I can only hope that you will go out of business as quickly as you deserve.

Have a nice day.

But now where will my mail go?

2011-01-06T10:04:00.001-08:00

Well, this was originally going to be a blog about the ridiculous experience I had trying to get my medication refilled at the doctors office, but I'm afraid that story will have to wait.

I called my mom this morning-and that's where the problem started. Now, let me pre-empt this rant by saying that my mom is awesome. She really is. She's the best mom ever and Sister and I would be totally screwed without her. We'd be living on the streets wearing burlap sacks! Okay, maybe the burlap sacks part isn't true but the living on the streets part totally would be. Mom is great. She's fantastic I love her top death, I really do. That being said...

She opened my mail! MY mail! Addressed to ME! And it was regarding something that I hadn't told her about (nothing serious but still). It was about something that wasn't any of her business. And like I told her, if I had wanted to tell her about it, I would have. She thinks that because I let her open my mail from EDD (but those are just checks!) she can just start ripping into envelopes! Sheesh! That's a federal offense, lady! You can't just go tearing into people's business like that! I should have listened to my Sister, she said that having my mail go to mom's house was a bad idea-she knew this would happen! Did everyone catch that?

I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO MY SISTER!!!

Oh, she is going to *love* that. She'll want that on my tombstone. Actually, that would be kind of a funny tombstone. I like grave markers with limericks or funny sayings. Dead is dead, but at least you're still making people laugh. I'm not so sure I want to be buried when I die. I'm terrified of being buried alive so unless one of my surviving relatives wants to spring for one of those coffins with the motion detectors (I didn't make that up, it's totally a real thing), I'd just as soon stay above the surface. Do they do taxidermy for humans? I wouldn't mind being stuffed (I almost typed "I wouldn't mind being mounted." Heh.) I'm not that big-I wouldn't take up that much space. Though according to the scale at the doctor's office, I've gained ten pounds since Christmas. Woo! Go food! I *heart* food. Food is wonderful. I have been eating SO MUCH FOOD lately. I'm eating an uncrustable right now and it is *delicious*. I would feel bad about all the eating, but I've been so sickly for so long that for awhile, my appetite was practically non existent. I couldn't eat in the morning, I couldn't eat more then a few bites at a time without feeling sick, I couldn't have caffeine, I couldn't eat anything spicy, and I just wasn't ever really all that hungry. Food just didn't taste as good. In fact, one of the medications I was taking left a weird metallic taste in my mouth, like I had been chewing on a fork. Not pleasant. But food is good again! And even with the ten pound weight gain (to which my boyfriend reminded me that when I got weighed on Christmas, I had been throwing up [dehydrated] and was only wearing a hospital gown whereas when I got weighed yesterday, I was fully outfitted in sneaker boots, jeans, a hoodie, and my TENS machine. That might account for a few pounds) I'm still only tipping the scales at 125. And my clothes still fit. I refuse to feel bad about eating. If I start putting on more weight and I can't squeeze into my jean leggings (NOT jeggings. Jeggings is NOT a word, it's an abomination of the english language.) anymore, then I'll start worrying about it.

But back to my original story. Allow me to give a few pointers to those of you who may be thinking about opening and reading someone else's mail.

Rule Number One: Don't.

Rule Number Two: Don't confess! If you MUST commit a federal offense level of NOSINESS, do so with the understanding that you cannot then confide in the one who's trust you have now violated.

Rule Number Three: Cover your tracks! Don't just rip into the letter-steam it open over a kettle or a nice pot of boiling water. And make sure to seal it back up. A little glue stick will do the trick, but not too much! Just a dab 'll do ya!

Can you tell that I've opened other people's mail before? Because I totally have. Of course, I was much younger and didn't confess so much as cover my tracks. That's the difference. I guess that's one of the few things I get from my dad-brown hair, brown eyes, and a knack for trickery. It's like I told my mom-it's not even so much the fact that she read my mail that bothers me. It's that she read it and then *interrogated* me about it. Not cool!

Oh my God!! I saw the ex-fiance yesterday! I can't believe I almost forgot to mention that! My fella and I were picking up my prescription from my old neighborhood (I guess the ex didn't move? I don't know how he's paying the rent, but that's his problem, not mine) and we caught glimpse of a sweatpant and sandal clad figure making his way across the parking lot. He didn't see us, which is good. I had a crabby day yesterday and was really not in the mood for any sort of unpleasant interaction. No thank you. Pass! Moving on...

My mom doesn't like my blog (not because of this entry or anything, she just doesn't like me having it up on the inter-webs. So I did make a few changes, in honor of my moms (even if she drives me crazy sometimes, she's one of the best people I know). I took my last name down, took down my location, and I'm going to stop using people's names (though I'll be totally honest-I'm sure I'll forget sometimes. But I'll try!) But I will not be silenced! I have too much to say! It's not like I'm punching babies or blowing up kittens, it's a freakin' blog. Chillax yo.

My super awesome boyfriend got me some super awesome presents! Besides the Lady bug farm and butterfly habitat, he also got a space heater for the bathroom (it gets so cold in there!) AND a *beautiful* penguin shaped humidifier! Steam comes out of his beak! I love them not just because they're so cool, but also because they're things for the apartment-and that makes me feel welcome. That's a good feeling.

It's so hideous outside today. All gray and rainy, mud and leaves everywhere. Bleah. Not my favorite kind of driving weather, but what are you gonna do, right? Right. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go get my mail. And eat some pie.

Have a delicious day everyone!

Department (in need) of Corrections

2010-12-29T11:56:00.000-08:00

It took me way too long to come up with that title and it's not even that funny. I think I used up all my good writing in the e-mail below.

As everybody knows, last year I lost my job and when I took to my blog to complain about it, my former co-workers got their collective panties in a bunch and tried to take me to court to shut down my blog. Look how well that worked out!! So I lost my job and that really sucked. It sucked because I was basically fired for being out on disability, which is weird because I could have *sworn* there were laws against that. Anyhow, it pissed me off, but I had moved on for the most part. Until I started reading up on what my old department was up to. You know what they're working on these days? Accountability. Their new thing is that they want to hold employees, and executives (cough cough Kenneth Ray Martin) especially, responsible for their actions. Actions like, say...improperly terminating an employee. And yet when I tried to make people care about how screwed up my termination process was, no one cared. Hypocrites. No wonder the department has such an awful reputation. Managers sleep at their desks all day and the girl who crashes the mail van while high (twice!!) doesn't even get fired. Well, I sent this letter to some higher up people this time. Maybe one of them will care and if not, well, at least I reminded them that I'm still here-and I'm still annoyed.

***********************************************************

From: Lindsey Keefauver clevergirl17@sbcglobal.net
Date: December 24, 2010 1:36:21 PM PST
To: Nameless HR Representative
Subject: Employee Termination Procedures

CDCR Human Resources,

I am a former CDCR Employee who was terminated while out on disability. My employer did not follow proper procedures regarding the termination process. Specifically, my former supervisor who issued my initial termination letter was the same person who made the "Coleman hearing" decision. This person was NOT in attendance at the meeting in question.

According to state regulations, the termination letter is not to be issued by the same person who decides the outcome of the hearing. It is also my understanding that the person who makes the hearing decision is required to be in attendance at the hearing.

I am now in recovery from my disability and am in a position to deal with the situation that occurred. I would like to know why proper procedures were not followed and ideally, I would like somebody to be held accountable for my improper termination. You can reach me by phone at the number listed below and I will be happy to provide additional information, including the name of the supervisors who were responsible for the error in question.

Thank you in advance for your assistance in this important matter and have a happy holiday.

L. Keefauver
clevergirl17@sbcglobal.net
(916) 247-0208

********************************************************

--- On Mon, 12/27/10, Nameless HR Representative wrote:

From: Nameless HR Representative
Subject:
To: "clevergirl17@sbcglobal.net"
Date: Monday, December 27, 2010, 5:16 PM

Hello Lindsey, I am the HR Director for California Prison Health Care Services, not CDCR HR which has responsibility for the Division of Correctional Health Care Services where it appears you were employed in the Northern Regional Office under Kenneth Martin. However, since you contacted me, I conducted some research and found that dept. records reflect that you were AWOL separated December 14, 2009 and subsequently (at the Feb. 10, 2010 DPA hearing, where you were present) entered into a settlement agreement whereby CDCR agreed to rescind the AWOL separation and in turn you agreed to resign effective Dec. 1, 2009. That hearing was the venue available to you to raise any procedural, or other concerns you may have had regarding your termination, not a year after you entered into a formal, legal settlement agreement to voluntarily resign. Due to that agreement, you now have permissive reinstatement rights to State service which allows to to apply for vacant positions in the classification or within transfer range of the classification from which you resigned. I don't know whether or not your agreement included a provision that you not reapply with the Dept of Corrections as I don't have access to your personnel file but if it did, I recommend you take a look at the State Personnel Board website to see what vacancies exist in other depts that interest you. If you would still like to speak to someone in CDCR HR, I recommend my CDCR counterpart, Judy Gelein. I wish you the best in your quest to reinstate if that's what you choose to do. Take care.

**********************************************

From: Lindsey Keefauver Date: December 29, 2010 12:14:37 PM PST
To: Executive Staff
Subject: Employee Termination Procedures and Accountability

To whom it may concern: I am a former CDCR employee and I was wrongfully terminated directly because Kenneth Ray Martin and Linda J. Jennings failed to follow proper state protocol and procedure regarding the employee termination process. They have yet to be held accountable for their mistakes and misconduct.

When I was terminated from my position, Kenneth Ray Martin sent the original letter notifying me that I was going to be considered AWOL. Kenneth Ray Martin also issued the decision letter after what was supposed to be a Coleman hearing. According to DPA guidelines, the decision maker is required to be an "impartial and disinterested" party, and someone not involved in the original decision to AWOL the employee in question. Because of this, the entire termination procedure could possible be considered null and void. It should also be noted that I established via phone records that I had in fact contacted my employer during the time I was supposedly AWOL, and as such the termination process should not have gone forward from that point.

Not only was I unjustly terminated from my position, I was subsequently harassed by former co-workers as they took me to court multiple times in failed attempts to shut down my personal website where I expressed my extreme annoyance at being unfairly terminated. Several CDCR employees (Jorge Leon, Gerri Villhaur, Paula Jones, Kandie Smith, and Julie Rollins) appeared at multiple court hearings, on state time, claiming to be representing the department, however, they were unable to provide any documentation to that effect and it would appear that they were merely there in yet another attempt to harass me. This not only wasted my time, and made my recovery that much more difficult, but it cost the state thousands of dollars in court costs and man hours.

I'm not looking for a job-I'm aware that I may reinstate to state service at any time. What I want is for these and all employees to be held accountable for their mistakes. Repeated attempts to resolve this issue have been unsuccessful and incredibly frustrating especially given what I have been reading in the paper regarding CDCR's desire to improve their accountability regarding policies and procedures. My direct supervisor, Linda J. Jennings, has been written up numerous times for her inability to supervise her employees effectively and yet she was never required to attend any sort of training, training that could very well have prevented this very issue. Kenneth Ray Martin sent me a sexually tinged, inappropriate e-mail prior to becoming my supervisor, but my numerous complaints to my superiors about my discomfort in working with him went unheeded. I was unfairly terminated, a case that I feel I have proved many times over, and I want someone to be held responsible for their mistakes.

I recently read an article regarding the departments desire to hold executives accountable for their actions. This is a perfect example of why CDCR has a reputation for having such low employee moral and why the department has trouble retaining good, quality employees. The failure to follow policies and procedures with regards to employee termination is abhorrent and it is my hope that the department would want to rectify such a grievous error.

Thank you in advance for your assistance. Happy Holidays and have a wonderful New Year.

-L. Keefauver
e-mail: clevergirl17@sbcglobal.net
cell: 916-247-0208
pager: 916-207-3321
alt. e-mail: vrryclevergirl@gmail.com
blog: http://24yearsexperience.blogspot.com/

******************************************************

And away we go! The last message was sent to some of the higher ups in the, including the guy who's been writing articles about holding people accountable. Time to put your money where your mouth is-though not really. Money's really dirty. :-)

mERry christmas

2010-12-27T13:51:00.000-08:00

Those aren't random capitalization's, it's my way of trying to be clever and say I spent my Christmas in the ER. So lame!! I made it to Christmas breakfast over at my grandparents (even though I didn't actually eat any food) but by ten thirty I was feeling pretty terrible. I wanted to go to out with Danny to his moms place, but I felt beyond awful and told him to go without me. I was hoping to get some sleep and feel better, but all of a sudden I started puking my guts out. Then I got the chills/sweats. It was raining out side and I was wearing shorts and a tank top, standing by the open window and I was burning up! My skin was all sweaty and clammy and I got dizzy every time I tried to get to my feet. It was pretty bad. I wanted to drive my self to the ER, but I was really in no position to be driving and so I called an ambulance. now I don't know if the hospital staff were all just in better moods because it was Christmas, but I got treated much faster then I normally do. And man, they sure as heck were pumping me full of drugs! It used to be that they would give me 25 micro gram shots of fentnyl every hour, but now they give me 100 micro gram shots ever half hour. Apparently all those drugs made me *very* chatty. Not coherently so of course, but chatty nonetheless. I felt awful about getting sick on Christmas, and not for me. I felt bad that everyone had to worry about me on a day that we should all just be relaxing and enjoying each others company. Sigh. Well, there is some good news in all this. I don't know if I mentioned this already, but the endometriosis that I've been suffering from these past few years seems to have abated. That's the good news. The bad news is that The cysts on my ovaries are getting bigger and I'm getting more of them. So endometriosis = better, Polycystic Ovarian Cysts = worse. Okay, now for some more good news-the doctor in the ER prescribed me a new medication to help with my PCOS. While it's too early for me to make any sort of conclusive opinion as to whether or not this medication works, I will say that last night, I was not only able to sleep through the night, but when I woke up in the morning, I actually felt fine. Yay!! To me, being able to sleep for more then five hours at a time and then wake up and not feel like I'm going to throw up, that's amazing. I'm going to remain tentatively optimistic about this and hopefully, I'll finally get back to normal* one of these days.

Lindsey out!

*Heh. Yeah, right.

At least I think it's funny

2010-12-09T14:03:00.000-08:00

If you were ever engaged to me at anytime, you should probably just not read this blog. Ever*. There just won't be anything you like here!

So earlier today, I posted a blog about how I was super annoyed at my ex for ignoring my texts and voice mails. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not recanting anything and I stand by everything I said-I always do. But it is worth noting that I just called Jason again and he *did* answer. We had a brief conversation, he said he didn't get my voicemail, and we made tentative plans to meet next week for lunch. I'm glad we were able to speak civilly and I truly hope that we can meet and hash things out like adults. I'm really not interested in harboring any ill will to anyone. Well, maybe Haley but only because she's a fucking lunatic. And her little dog too! (That was intended as a jab for her girlfriend-if she still has one.)

Oh yeah! I think I might have run into Haley at the store the other day! I was shopping with my hunky boyfriend and a random chick complimented me on my knee high converse knock offs. Of course, I wasn't wearing my glasses, but the other person with her looked just like big fat Haley! Only bigger! And fatter! Even my boyfriend (who has never actually seen her) thought it was her, based on how I've described her. I wandered around the store trying to find her again, but they were already gone-and fleeing the store is *exactly* what Haley would do if she saw me. Ha. Well, whoever it was, at least they liked my shoes. :-)

*I don't care when they call me names on their facebook page(s). Why do I give a shit what anyone else's loser friends think about me? "Oh no, the people I don't like don't like me! The horror!" If you don't like it, don't read it. Though I do think my 2nd ex fiance is still reading this. I find it to be a very big coincidence that he avoided my calls and texts this whole time, then suddenly, two hours after I update my blog to say he's a weenie for not calling me back, then he answers? He knew it was me, I didn't block my phone number this time. Well, whatever I'm just glad he answered the phone. Maybe next week I can finally give him that closure he's been looking for. And maybe he'll give me back my bongs. Here's hoping!

Happy Thanksgiving! Now, who wants a drink?

2010-12-09T09:49:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my boyfriend and I went to Costco to load up on delicious foods. Having a membership to a store that only sells food in mass quantities may seem a bit odd seeing as how we're a two person household, but he and I are really on the same page as far as foods we like to eat, and I will happily eat the same thing every single day for a month. So anyhow, I'm walking through Costco, eating my delicious one dollar soft serve, when my stomach starts to hurt. Not a super big deal, I have endometriosis so stomach pain is something that I have to deal with on a daily basis. If I'm at home and I get cramps, I use a heating pad. When I'm out and about, I try to stay on my feet and keep moving. Even though it's hard for me to stand up straight, the walking is good for me. Keeps my blood flowing. But like I said, it's hard for me to stand up straight, so being in a grocery store environment is helpful because I can lean on a shopping cart and shift some of my weight into a more comfortable position. So I'm walking down the frozen foods aisle, pushing my cart, when I come to a road block. There's a group of like three people standing around a food sample area, and some selfish person had left their cart full of stuff sitting at an forty five degree angle, blocking people from going down the aisle without having to move their stupid heavy cart out of the way. Rude much? This chick was nowhere near her food and I was not pleased about having to shove her stupid cart out of my way. What kind of person shoves their cart at an angle, in front of a area handing out food samples, and wanders a hundred feet away? So I was looking for the person who thinks they rule the world, and it turns out it some plain looking kinda fat girl. So I just kind of rolled my eyes and made a vague "People are so incredibly annoying sometimes" comment in her general direction. My fella comes back just in time to hear the tail end of my complaint and we go about our business.

So for those of you who may not know, I wear glasses-or at least I'm supposed to. I don't like how I look in spectacles, so I tend to just squint my way through life. And that's exactly what I was doing when I saw someone in a cute white coat (people who can wear white always impress me. For me, white coat=falling in the mud). Turns out the girl in the cute coat is also the rude girl with the cart. So I told her "I do like your jacket" and she looked at me like I had just told her her I was storing her mother's decapitated remains in my basement. I don't even have a basement! Heh. I don't think I would even want a basement. That's where people always store the creepiest parts of their lives. Plus I'm claustrophobic and I don't like not being able to see the outside. But the girl at Costco looked at me like I was insane. Geez lady, just because you had a moment of rudeness and left your stuff in everybody's way doesn't mean I'm going to throw a cup of acid on you or anything. Just don't do it again, ya? It's not so serious that I don't like your coat. :-)

Have I mentioned that my 2nd ex-fiance is acting weird**? He texted me on Thanksgiving to wish me a happy holiday. I replied with the same. He told me about the food he made and said "It's almost a complete Thanksgiving." Bleah! He's talking about me there, that's what would make his Thanksgiving complete. Yuck. Ick. Whatever. Moving on. I told him that my Thanksgiving was fine, but that I missed the kids (which I really do, especially on holidays). I also mentioned that my grandma was in the hospital and he freaked the fuck out!! He was all "What? Seriosly [his typo, not mine], you SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME." He wanted to send flowers, he said he would bring the kids over, he was talking about calling her at like ten o'clock at night, talked about wanting to go to the hospital even though I kept saying that she had already been discharged and was at home, but it was like he just didn't hear me. It was bizarre. Don't get me wrong, my Grandma is incredibly awesome and I love her to death, but Jason never seemed to have any particularly strong relationship with her, at least not that I was aware of. But he did send her flowers. I never saw them, but I heard they looked very expensive. And I guess there was a card from him and the kids, which really pissed me off. He knows how much my grandparents loved those kids and if he wants the kids to spend time with them or continue to be a part of their lives, then that's great. If he wants to bring the kids around my grandparents and not around me, that's fine. I would totally respect that. But that's not what he's doing. He's not letting the kids be a part of their lives, he's just reminding them that they once were. He's not interested in continuing a relationship with me or anyone from my family. I don't know what he's trying to prove by spending a bunch of money on flowers, but if it was an attempt to impress me it was wasted, because I never even saw them.

So then a few days later, he texts me again and says he'd like to get together for lunch one day. I texted him back that I'd been feeling a little under the weather and that I would text him when I was feeling better. A few days later I texted him again to see if he wanted to meet the following day for lunch. I never heard from him. I tried to call his cell phone, but it had been shut off. I called him on William's phone (that's the phone he's been using this whole time to text me, either because something happened to his old phone, or because he figured out that I had been blocking his old number) but there was no answer. I called his work phone (blocking my phone number) but apparently his work doesn't give a shit if he hangs up on people since every time I call his work phone and it shows up to him as a blocked number, he just picks up the receiver and then hangs it up. Then he lets the next call go to voice mail. He has no way of knowing if it's actually me calling, lots of other people call from blocked numbers and he apparently won't answer the phone for any of them. Weenie. I'm going to call him right now as a matter of fact. Let's see what happens:

Oh my god, he is being such a ridiculous child! He did the exact same thing, just hung right up on me. He's a thirty three year old man and he's scared to answer his phone. Now that he's sobered up, he doesn't want to talk to me. I even left him a voicemail on his work phone. Maybe I should just leave him a voicemail everyday. He's the one who said he wanted to get together, so why wouldn't I keep calling, right? He WANTS me to contact him. He's HOPING to hear from me. Every. Single. Day. Heh. It's a pity really, because I found something of his mixed in with my stuff and I'm sure he would want to have back. It's not something he can replace-they don't even make them anymore and no store would even carry anything remotely like it. I don't know if he even realized it was missing because he doesn't use it, but he always said that it meant a lot to him. Well, know I have it and if he wants it back he's going to have to stop being such a wuss and answer the phone. I don't think he realizes that sooner or later, he will have to communicate with me. He thinks I "took everything" when I moved out, but the truth is, *he* owes *me* money. A lot of money. But that's another story for another time.

**drunk.

Mmmm....turkey blog

2010-11-25T08:42:00.000-08:00

I realized two things today.

One, stores are already trying to cram Christmas down my throat and I haven't even't updated this thing with a November blog.

Two, it's Thanksgiving and my last and therefore most viewable blog is somewhat bitchy. In a hilarious way of course, but bitchy nonetheless.

So in honor of thanksgiving, here's to:

My awesome grandma and equally awesome grandpa, my fantastic mommers, my sister and partner in crime, my wonderfully hilarious and uber-hunky boyfriend, my great friends who understand my lack of contact does not mean a lack of love, and all of the other people who I promise to dedicate later blogs too. Sorry, but I promised that uber sexy boyfriend I mentioned earlier that I'd only be five minutes on his computer, and despite the rumors I at least *try* to stick to my word.

P.S. Okay, it was seven minutes. I got distracted by E True Hollywood Story. And a happy Thanksgiving to all!!

But what rhymes with "Lindsey"?

2010-10-22T08:50:00.000-07:00

So my drunken ex used to date (or want to date) this wanna-be pretty, kinda on the chunky side blonde girl. We'll call her Thrice (for the number of times she's been treated for STD's. Heh. It's even funnier when you're in on the joke and know that her name actually *rhymes* with thrice). According to Drinky McDrinks-a-lot, she was a right bitch. I don't remember a lot of specifics about his complaints, because I tended to tune them out-he bitched about her quite a bit, especially in the beginning. A guy with a psycho ex wife who talks shit about a girl he didn't really even *date*? Well, you can see what attracted me to him, right? I swear, he was funny in the beginning [he's reading this right now, and clinging to that semi-compliment like a cyber life line. "She thought I was funny!"*sob*] Anyhow, he made a big stink about how she treated him like crap and strung him along, and was, according to him anyway, kind of a whore. Well, I guess time (and copious amounts of liquor) makes fools of us all. He went from telling me stories of bitchiness, to blocking her on myspace, to drunk dialing her at two am, to friending her on facebook! How hilarious is that?! Talk about the opposite of moving on, he's actually going *backwards*! Ha! I wonder if she knows all the shit he used to talk about her. Something in my big sexy brain tells me that like with most areas of her life, that is a subject she remains woefully ignorant on. Hey, not my problem. My source of amusement sure, but not my problem. He's a jerk, she's a jerk, why wouldn't they be friends again? Maybe she looks thin through the beer goggles. ;-) Okay, okay, I'm done. I don't even know the girl, it's possible that she's actually really nice now. Not likely, but possible. Shame about the STD's though. Okay, now I'm REALLY done. Besides, I'm just kidding. I kid! I don't hang with that kind of crowd, and like I said, I don't even know the girl. It's just a shame she's so easy to make fun of*. Speaking of easy to make fun of...

Want to hear my new theory? According to my latest Bathroom Reader, and in 23 editions Bathroom Reader's have yet to steer me wrong, the most common birthday is October 5th, placing the date of conception at New Year's Eve. My crazy ex and his crazy ex had three kids, born September 21, October 4, and October 9. The dates of their birthdays leads me to believe that Sir Drinks-a-lot and the lesbionic missus were only doing it once a year, most likely because she/he/it made it their New Years Resolution to be a better wife (i.e. straight girl who bangs their husband every now and again). You want to know the best part about this theory? I told my mom and she said it *wasn't* mean. She said it makes sense to her! And I'm not saying anything cruel, and I'm not presenting that as the gospel truth. I'm just saying, that based on the facts (birthdays), that scenario makes a certain degree of sense. And it does! Mean would be me saying that she switched teams because he wasn't bringing a big enough bat to the plate, but I would *never* say something like that! That would be like saying any guy who not only STAYS with his wife after she gets caught screwing around with other girls, but goes on to have another child with them, only to get cheated on AGAIN and unceremoniously kicked to the curb for a two hundred pound linebacker lesbian is going to have some *serious* sexual inadequacy issues. And as much as I hate to resort to using other people's words, my second ex-fiancé didn't just have issues, he had a subscription. No joke. Why he thinks he doesn't need therapy is beyond me.

You know what bothered-and continues to bother-me? I'm going to get serious (as serious as I get anyway) for a second here. Don't worry, it won't last long. I tried explaining this MANY time to the ex, and he either. a.) didn't get it b.) wasn't listening c.) didn't care d.) all of the above! Here's one of my relationship rules, one of the unbreakable rules like being able to trust the other person-you know, the other rule he broke (more on that in a second). You don't do things for someone just so you can throw it in their face later. You should do nice things because you *want* to do nice things. You should do things for other people because seeing them happy should make *you* happy too. That, to me, is part of what makes a good person a good person. Life doesn't come with a scorecard, there's no tally of good deeds, you're not accumulating points. Doing things for others is supposed to be selfless, right? Do you pull a guy from a burning car because you're hoping for a cash reward? Do you donate money to charity for the sole purpose of telling people how charitable you are? Dear God, I did SO MUCH for my ex and I'm not just talking about the huge things I blog about (court stuff, kid stuff, etc), just day to day routine things. I'm not going to sit here at list things "I did this, he did that, blah blah blah" because unlike some people, I'm not keeping list. I baked lava cakes because I *wanted* to, not so that I could use it later as an example of everything I do for them. I spent two hours waiting in line at the Spaghetti Factory, just so that I could throw a surprise 30th birthday party, complete with decorations and an awesome (and expensive!) gift, for my ex's birthday. And for my birthday? He couldn't even be bothered to frost my cake! My friend Jen did it-and rather beautifully might I add. But I didn't say anything about all the work that I put every year not just into birthdays, but to Christmas, Father's day, anniversary's, thanksgiving, Halloween, valentines day, everything! I did those things because I wanted to. I waited in line, at Wal-mart, on Christmas eve so that I could buy the kids an x-box. An x-box that was a gift from their mother's parents! Why was I the one spending an hour and a half in freakin' Wal-mart, like I didn't have anything better to do? As far as the kids know, I had nothing to do with the procuring of their X-box. Why would I? It came from their grandparents, right? Lindsey certainly didn't go out of her way to make sure that the kids had a relationship with their maternal grandparents, that's FAR too selfless of an act, right? Right. Making sure Haley's parent's were getting cards and stuff from the kids? Writing thank you notes? Sending pictures of them opening presents on Christmas day? You can't possibly think that any of those things were Jason's idea. Did any of those things happen *before* I came into the picture? Did he even HAVE his kids before I came into the picture?? He acts like since he stayed with me while I was sick, I should somehow be indebted to him or something. Like I've never done anything for him. He would never, NEVER have gotten custody of those kids without me, even he knows that. He was on a fast track to nowhere when we got together, he lived in a two bedroom hovel with a caveman roommate. He was lucky to see his kids once a month-he didn't even have a car! I didn't help him because I wanted him to feel like he owed me, I did it because I felt like it was the right thing to do. Whether or not it *was* still remains to be seen, though at this point I'm not entirely sure I'll ever really know. What I *do* know, is that I never EVER, not even at the very end, I never threw any of those things in his face. And every single time we ever fought he would act as if I owed it to him to stay, no matter what he did, no matter what he said, no matter how many times he lied, his staying with me while I was sick was so incredibly saintly of him that I OWED it to him to stay. Not only that, but he told me, on SEVERAL occasions "No one else will ever want to be with you because you're so sick." Nice, huh? What a guy! Who wouldn't want to stay with that, am I right ladies?

Well that turned into a long story! I'm not entirely sure how that happened. I don't even think I ever got around to making my original point, but I really need to be napping, not typing. I haven't been feeling that awesome and I MUST feel better by tomorrow; I'm going on the eagerly anticipated church retreat. Ironically it was last years retreat that made me realize that the only reason I was still living in that toxic house was because of the kids. But hey, that's another story for another time.

*Reason number #12,729 why Lindsey is going to Hell.

Fantastical!

2010-10-15T16:24:00.000-07:00

A little tip; if you're trying to dig up information about someone on the net, look and see if they use consistent screen names for their accounts. Kids today with their facespace and the mybook (ha!), these sites all require some sort of user names, and lots of people (self included) use the same name for everything. For example, I use clevergirl17. So occasionally I google myself to see if anything interesting pops up, and today I decided to google my user name. Imagine my surprise (and hysterical delight!) to find that some pro lifer (I assume that's their view) has stumbled into my blogosphere! Back when I still had a job (and the motivation to do such things) I created a little website called mybodymychoice.org. I thought it was a neat name, I wanted to snap it up, so I played around with the site for awhile, but life got in the way and honestly, I had kind of forgotten about it. There it sat, lonely and neglected until someone got their right wing panties in a bunch and decided to register on some website, thoughts.com, as well, me! Well, kind of. She used my user name, my precious user name! Then she posts something random about an Australian study. I have absolutely no idea what to make of this. Thoughts? Anyone? Should I be insulted? She (or he I suppose) starts of with "They're fabricated of course" What's fabricated? My facts? The studies I quoted? Which facts are wrong? Which stories are untrue? You're not giving me much to work with!! Beyond that, it's possible that statistics have changed since the website was last updated. I don't know how long it's been since I've updated the website, but it's been awhile. Probably over a year. It's been so long, you can't even get there by using mybodymychoice.org, because I stopped paying for the domain name. I'm not saying my information is *wrong*, but it's possible it's outdated. But this mysterious name stealing stranger isn't exactly telling me what they want fixed. And of course, I *did* use American studies, so using a study from the land down under is [of course] going to produce different statistics. Silly little bumble bee! What foolish words you say!

Anyone who gets worked up enough use my screenname (thief!!) is probably the kind of person who turns to web stalking which means they may have stumbled across this very blog, skimming for abortion articles. So I hereby invite this mysterious stranger to please leave me comment!! I'm dying to know what the h-e-double hockey sticks you're talking about, so by all means, stalk away. :-)

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http://www.thoughts.com/clevergirl17/profile

clevergirl17: They're fabricated of course. I can't speak for America (this is an Austrailian study), but if anyone's interested in some real facts, try this:

"The World Health Organisation states that even if couples use contraception correctly 100 per cent of the time, there would be six million unplanned pregnancies each year.

Cait Calcutt, coordinator of Queensland-based unplanned pregnancy counselling service, said the research showed women were not using abortion as a form of contraception, as many people believed.

"When unplanned pregnancy does occur it is vital that women have access to the support necessary for them to make a real choice - everything from paid maternity leave to safe and legal abortion services," Ms Calcutt said."

http://skemono.blogspot.com/2008/01/honestly-how-does-abortion-as-birth.html

And courtesy of http://www.guttmacher.org/pubs/fb_induced_abortion.html I found the following:

Fifty-four percent of women [not twenty percent as the above poster erroneously claimed] who have abortions had used a contraceptive method (usually the condom or the pill) during the month they became pregnant. Among those women, 76% of pill users and 49% of condom users report having used their method inconsistently, while 13% of pill users and 14% of condom users report correct use.[9]

Each year, about two percent of women aged 15-44 have an abortion; 47% of them have had at least one previous abortion [not four or more].[3]

Please try and get your facts right.

www.mybodymychoice.org

posted 2010-09-29 in my body my choice WTF

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P.S. Seriously, how did this person even find my website? They apparently just left this comment just a few days ago, and I can't even find it myself!! I not only want your comments my foreign friend, I need your help locating my site!

Not last, not least (not yet)

2010-08-27T10:01:00.000-07:00

Who am I kidding blogger, I could never leave you! I may have to merge you to another blog, but for now, we're still the best of friends. That and I feel like I'm not quite done with this outlet yet. Things still feel unfinished; I need a better way to wrap this up. Video feed maybe? I bought a webcam from Toys R Us for fourteen dollars, but for some crazy reason, my professional piece of camera equipment had no sound. Who would have thought there'd be a problem with a fourteen dollar camera? Weird. Anyway, I know this was supposed to be a blog about what happened when I went to get my stuff from the townhome, but suffice to say, it was not a pleasant experience. Jason was drunk (shocking, I know) and wouldn't let me in to the house to get my stuff. Not even with a police escort. He made things so much more incredibly difficult then they had to be. AND I SAW HIM COME DOWNSTAIRS NAKED AND CARRYING A BEER BOTTLE!! God, how I wish I was making that up. Bleah! My mind was (and is!) in serious need of an acid bath. Anyway, let's move on to anything else, shall we? So I wasn't able to get my stuff. And, AND Jason told my sister that he broke her bongs because I slept with Troy (my sister's ex-boyfriend, and now friend, who owns the best tattoo shop in Sacramento). First of all, I would NEVER sleep with ANY of my sister's ex-anythings!! Let me just be very clear on how icky that is-downright incestuous in my opinion. Jason, the moron, claims that he saw proof in the form of texts on my phone (which raises the question of why is he going through my phone in the first place?) to Troy that we had slept together. That's crap! Granted I talk to Troy the same way all girls talk to him. For example, I sent him a text the other day that read: "Hey muscles, you busy? I was hoping to stop by the shop and see you for a second. :-)" Oh my god, I practically said I wasn't wearing any underwear! Can you believe that...I dared call him muscles! That means we're sleeping together, you know. Dear god, that's what ALL the girls call him. He's my friend! I wanted to know if he was working so I could stop by and say hi, since when is that a crime? And if Jason thought Troy and I were sleeping together, why would he (Jason) go get a tattoo from Troy after reading these supposed cheating texts? Now he has a constant daily reminder of Troy inked onto his chest and forearm. Good call there, buddy. That makes a lot of sense. Anyway, what does that have to do with my sisters awesome bongs! She's going to take Jason to court too...he sent her texts admitting that he broke her things, because that's just the kind of moron he is. And I really thought that having a police escort would make him let me in, but no. So as I'm sure you can tell by now, the story of what happened when I went to get my stuff is a loooong story indeed, one I SWEAR will be my next entry (unless something else comes up...and I need to write about my (almost) auditions for American Idol!!). But in the meantime...

These little gems are from the deranged mind of Jason’s sister. I finally told my mother about the whole Brooke saying she was a little old to have a boyfriend thing; she was flattered, if not somewhat confused as to whether or not that was supposed to be an insult. But for the record, Miguel‘s not her boyfriend! He‘s her friend and he and his dad kick serious ass for coming over and helping me move my stuff. They did all the heavy lifting and not only did they load everything up, the unloaded everything at my mom‘s place. Very helpful. Pond Scum (ha! I accidentally typed Pond Cum the first time, and I think that seeing as how she‘s squeezed out four kids in the last five years [thereby rendering her body completely and totally unattractive to any and all of man kind], that any sort of sexual insinuation is more then appropriate.) is just being ridiculous. So now, I have to admit, I got the idea of sending the same text over and over again from my sister-did you know that some phones have built in features that automatically send a message to a person every time the message you? I mean, my phone doesn’t *actually* do that, but what’s the difference between that and just sending the person who’s bothering you the same message over and over again? No difference if you ask me (not that anyone ever does). But I thought it was pretty hilarious! So sorry that you have to keep reading my one message over and over again, but if it’s annoying to you, imagine how annoying it was to her! It’s the same thing I did to Jason-why would I ever invest any time into text messaging? That’s like the lowest form of communication, the only thing worse is Twitter. But that’s another rant for another time. I’ve got a voicemail from her too of course, crazy people like her can never stop themselves from doing such stupid things, and once I figure out how to upload sound to this thing then I can post not just her silly little ranting, but Jason’s drunken vocal meanderings as well. But for now, you’ll have to amuse yourself reading some more crazy texts. I’m amused to think of all the time and energy she put into text messaging when all I did was hit send over and over again while she foamed at the mouth. I should have called her “Rabies”. Rhymes with babies and we all know how much she loves to pop those little government funded bundles of joy out of her va-jay-jay. Seriously though, last I heard she was unemployed, toking up while her girls are taking a swim in the tub. She berates me for smoking pot, but I’m not the one who’s father had to grab her by the hair and throw her into the swimming pool because she came home fucked up with an attitude. Besides, pot is legal in California man, so fuck you AND your newest baby daddy-wait I‘ve seen you both and ew. Never mind. Go fuck yourSELVES-no one else wants the job. As long as I have a prescription, you don’t need to worry your once pretty and now ravaged beyond repair little head about it, mmkay? Super. Yeesh. She’s just like Jason-he knew I smoked pot and never had a problem with it until we broke up and then all of a sudden, I was a useless pothead who sat around smoking all day. Please. Try to come up with another insult, I beg of you, because that one’s getting old. Almost as old as Jason. Cheap shot! [But it’s still true]. Anyway, that’s enough from me, enjoy the text messages below and as long as your name isn’t Jason, Brooke, or Pond Scum, have a nice day. :-)

P.S. For the record, she will never so much as lay a finger on me. Like I said in my last blog, she never came down here to see Haley, and she’ll never come down here to see me. Kind of a shame really, you all know how much I would LOVE to pepper spray someone in the face and if that somebody could be Jason’s sister, that would be just all kinds of awesome. As far as I’m concerned, if she ever gets within spraying reach, I’m taking her down. First with the pepper spray, then with a swift kick in the ribs. I’ve been going through a phase of wearing combat boots, so if she does come down (yeah right) I hope she does it soon. It’s been too long since I’ve made a bitch bleed…and I can’t think of a more deserving recipient.

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Wednesday, July 7, 8:36pm
From: 951-296-41**

Since you’re too chicken shit to answer your phone, here’s another text for your white trash ass. Fuck you for locking my nephew out of HIS house and taking his stuff. I guess it’s too hard to stay away from your true roots huh? Too bad for him? To bad for you bitch. So go be a whore, smoke so much weed that your pathetic ass can’t find and keep a job & be a loser like your fckn mom. Hey yeah you should make money off of opening your legs, it suits you. Hopefully those doctors keep giving up on you because you’re nothing but a fckn crybaby who just wants more drugs & hopefully you’ll eventually just waste away. Happy days to you Lindsey and you should be grateful that you’re up there and away from me.

Wednesday, July 7, 8:38 pm
From: 916-247-****
We’re sorry, but this user has enabled their bitch blocker and as such, your pathetic little quasi-threat text messages have been deleted. Have a nice day! :-)

Wednesday, July 7, 8:53pm
From: 951-296-41**

Oh and you’re a Christian? What would God say about this? I sure hope you feel good about what you did to William. But you’re too much of a pussy to stand up to someone your own age huh? So you, your little boyfriend, your sorry ass mother and her boyfriend (hey how old is your mom? A little old to have a boyfriend don’t you think?) can go fuck yourselves. Lol that’s why no doctor’s can help, there’s not medical explanation for you. So keep poppin those pills bitch, God willing it’ll be one too many one dayand you’ll be nothing but a bad memory. :-)

Wednesday, July 7, 8:53pm
From: 916-247-****

We’re sorry, but this user has enabled their bitch blocker and as such, your pathetic little quasi-threat text messages have been deleted. Have a nice day! :-)

Wednesday, July 7, 8:57pm
From: 951-296-41**

Lmao, grow some tits, skank. Step up…haha I guess it east when you’re ALL the way up there. Lol but…don’t think I’ll never make a trip up to Sac town. So sweet dreams.

Wednesday, July 7, 8:57pm
From: 916-247-****

We’re sorry, but this user has enabled their bitch blocker and as such, your pathetic little quasi-threat text messages have been deleted. Have a nice day! :-)

All I want are my penguin mugs! He doesn't even like penguins!

2010-08-01T10:42:00.000-07:00

The blinking cursor is mocking me and my inability to write funny things. Or anything really. I should be updating my blog, but what’s the point anymore? Now that I actually have an audience, a steady stream of people who I know for certain read my blog on a regular basis, I hate it. I can’t talk about the things I want to talk about, or say any of the things I want to say, because now everyone’s watching. But here’s what I can say:

Jason is an alcoholic who is not dealing with his alcoholism. He did many unpleasant things during the course of our four year relationship, including calling other girls while drunk in an attempt to initiate phone sex. Ew. He also had somewhat of a porn problem as my friend Jen noticed him surfing adult websites on his phone when we all went to the roller rink for Michael Jackson’s birthday party (and my sister got robbed of winning the costume contest-she had a baby doll with a blanket over it’s head, and she dangled him in front of her-just like Michael Jackson did with his [real] baby!). There were other porn related incidents, but I’ll spare you all the mental pictures-god knows my brain will never come clean. He was emotionally abusive and whenever we would get into an argument, he would tell me that no one else would ever want to be with me because I was so sick from my endometriosis, and that I was lucky he stayed with me for so long-and did I know that everyone thought he should just leave me because I was so sick all the time. That was nice to hear. However, I will withhold the worst of it from becoming available on my blog, because despite what Jason and his family are so determined to believe, I am not without my limits, and I do not wish to see him lose his kids. At least for now, he’s still a better parent then Haley. Of course, that’s like saying a chimpanzee would be better then a monkey-it’s really just picking the best of what you’ve got when there’s really no good option. It’s a lose lose sort of thing, and quite frankly, neither of them deserve to parent those children-if you can call what they do parenting. I call it pathetic.

Jason’s sister, who I’ve been mentally referring to as “pond scum” (because her name is Brooke), is laughably ridiculous. For your entertainment, I have transcribed her texts in entirety and will be posting them in my next, and final, (single tear!) blog. I will also be posting the messages I’ve gotten from Jason, so if he’s reading this, and I know he is, he’s probably getting rather nervous. And rightly so. Anyway, Jason’s sister is hilarious. I mean, I know she’s not trying to be (and that makes it all even funnier), but her um, “insults” are just so random and bizarre. My favorite is when she says my mom is “a little old to have a boyfriend”. What the fuck? How is that supposed to be insulting to me? Are we playing a round of “Who’s got the worst ‘Yo Mama’ jokes?” It’s not really even an insult to my mother! And besides that, and least MY mother didn’t get cheated on by her husband. Too bad the brookester can’t say the same thing about her own mother-now THAT’S how you insult someone’s mama. Yo mama! Sad I had to pull that out really, I always liked Jason’s parents. But if Miss Brookey wants to talk shit about my mom, well then there you go. Jason's parents are good people, though upon reflection, I’m concerned for their parenting skills-or rather their lack thereof. I mean, just look at how their children behave!! Nice people don’t always make nice parents. Sad but true. They really should make you take some sort of test before you’re allowed to breed. For instance, Jason’s sister has four kids (I knew all that birthing had destroyed her body, I didn’t realize it had wrecked her mind too. Pity.) and I think she should bear the responsibility for something that she’s *actually* capable of taking care of. Perhaps a nice fern. Or pet rock. 6iiiigtti. Heh. Sorry. Our kitten climbed on the keyboard while I was doing laundry. I’m going to leave it in. I think he was trying to tell Pond Scum to kiss his furry butt, but you know kittens these days-they’re terrible spellers. Anyway, that’s probably enough about Jason’s sister. Oh wait, one last thing!! When I post her text messages on my next visit to the blogosphere, you will note that she makes comments regarding me making money by opening my legs. Um, hello! You read my blog, idiot! Did all the big scary words confuse you? I SAID I thought making a porn could be fun, so turning around and telling me I’d be good at it? Ooh, that really smarts. You sure got me there. Besides, you know you’d totally watch it-you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. Look at you now, sitting here pouring over every single word I say about you. I’m in your head now sweetie, and there ain’t nothing you can do about it. Sigh. She’s just so silly. Talking about kicking my ass…weird that she’d threaten the 115 pound girl who just had surgery, not the hideous she-man creature that her brother is STILL married too, you know, the one who’s pumped up on all the testosterone s/he buys over the internet, and the one who ACTUALLY screwed Jason over. I broke up with Jason because he’s an alcoholic who wouldn’t get himself the help he needed. Haley/Daniel/Whatever took the kids, kicked Jason out of the house, nailed Jason for THOUSANDS of dollars worth of child support (and who do you think paid the bills when all his money was going to Child Support Services. Yeah. Me.), called him a rapist, and tried to turn his own kids against him. I’m not even scratching the surface of her crazy, as anyone who reads this blog knows. All I did was move out and take my tv and wii with me. I even left my fucking dog, just so I wouldn’t have to separate the kids from another animal they’d become attached to (like their mother/father/future reason for therapy does all the damn time.) How awful of me!! But yeah Brooke, by all means, come up and kick MY ass, because I screwed your brother. Screw you, honey. You threaten me via stupid text messages, but I don’t see you threatening Haley and her loser bitch girlfriend. Don’t let my small stature fool you sweet cheeks, I’ll pepper spray you right in your fucking face if you so much as come within arms reach of me. As far as I’m concerned, you threatened me over text messages, and should you ever come near me, I’ll assume it’s because you’re a crazy psychopath who’s jealous of my pretty face and stellar, stretch mark free body, and I will take you down in a heartbeat. Don’t believe me? Like I really give a shit. You’ll never come down here anyway, you’re all talk and your stupid little words amuse me. HALEY PUNCHED JASON IN THE FUCKING FACE AND BROOKE DIDN’T DO SHIT!! As far as I know, there were no texts, no e-mails, NOTHING! Sure Scum of the Pond probably took the internet and bitched her cold dead heart out, but I don’t recall her coming down here to do shit to Haley-’cause she didn’t! She did NOTHING! What’s wrong Brooke? Scared that she-man can kick your so-cal white trash ass? Worried that you’ll get tag teamed between her and her imitation girl friend? Heh. This should set off another round of angry texts-all of which will be ignored of course. She can go bitch me out on Jason’s face book and look tough to all her virtual friends. Maybe they’ll threaten to kick my ass too! She seems like the kind of chick who likes to involve people in things that are none of their business-gee, wonder how I got that impression. Jason made pathetic phone calls to my mother and grandparents too, so clearly the drama and idiocy gene run rampant in their family. Sigh. Anyway, suffice to say Brooke is a sad, sad women. And there is something I have been wanting to tell her, ever since the first day I met her, but I couldn’t think of a polite way to say it. Now that she’s shown she doesn’t speak the language of manners, I can just come right out and say it: Stop shaving off your fucking eyebrows! Why do girls insist on fucking up their faces like that? What is the point of shaving them if you just draw the right back on afterwards-and dear god, are you even in the same ROOM as a mirror when you pencil them on? Maybe she has premature arthritis or something, because she can never get them symmetrical. Anyway, on that note, it’s been nice knowing you Brooke-now do us all a favor and stop reproducing. I’ll send you a nice ant farm instead. Perhaps a nice goldfish. Then you can surround yourself with things of superior mental capacity and perhaps you‘ll learn via osmosis-and I’ll bet you five bucks she has to look that word up. ;-)

Haley. Daniel. Katerina. Princess Consuela Banana Hammock. Whatever the fuck you’re calling yourself these days, it’s not important. What is important is that you focus on your kids, and stop getting in relationships with people who you then allow to steamroll over your life. I don’t even know why I’m bothering to say anything at all, it’s not like you would listen to me, but you really should. Despite all of the horrible and crazy things that you’ve done, you never seem to do these things alone. There’s always someone in the background egging you on. Not that that in any way excuses your behavior, it’s merely a key to understanding why you continue to make the same poor choices over and over again. You don’t really have a personality, you simply absorb the behaviors of those around you. Someday you will realize how badly you have tarnished the lives of those you promised to protect, but knowing you, it will already be too late. Oh, and what is with you always getting together with people who have no job? Doesn’t that strike you as a little odd? Admittedly, I have no job at the moment, but I still bring in an income. And I do MORE then my share of house work, especially if I’m not working. I don’t palm chores off on the kids, and I certainly don’t make them clean up after parties that they weren’t invited to. And seriously, that whole not letting them be a part of the wedding reception party that you had with you’re herd of like minded fools was cruel. It’s no wonder the kids don’t feel welcome around you-they’re not. You care more about your relationships with your insignificant others then you care about your relationship with your own children. And that’s sad. It’s sad because you have such wonderful kids, and you’re wasting the life that you could be giving them. But by all means, don’t listen to me; but when you find yourself dying alone in a cockroach infected, government paid for nursing home for the mentally unbalanced, at least I can say I tried to warn you.

Kate. There’s really not a whole lot to say that hasn’t been said already. You suck at life. I mean really, that’s what it all boils down to. You have no job, no family, no friends, no money, nothing of your own except a woman who calls herself a man and who is still married to another man. However, you should consider yourself lucky to have even that. A girl with your looks and intelligence should be grateful to have anything more then a cardboard box, and if I were you, I would start scouting dumpsters trying to find myself a nice refrigerator box because the person you’re currently playing house with has cheated on every single other person it’s ever been with. What makes you think you’re special? Because s/he says s/he loves you? Don’t you think that’s what s/he said to the others, too? Did s/he swear you were different, you were better, you were everything s/he had ever wanted and s/he would never leave you? Yeah, that’s original. Newsflash hon-you will be replaced. It’s only a matter of time. So tick tock m’dear, enjoy the surroundings while you can. And rest assured, I will be first in line to douse you with a volcano full of boiling lava as you burn in hell (my version of heaven is very understanding of the whole concept of revenge). Give my regards to Satan, would you?

Well that’s enough for now. I’ve got to go pick up the remainder of my things at the town home, which is a huge issue in itself-and worthy of the devotion of an entire blog. Next time. For now, I just really wanted to post this before I have to meet Jason at 3:30, because he’s crazy and obsessed-and our former friend Dennis said I was stalking him (Jason, not Dennis). Shut up, freak! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Jason’s an alcoholic dude, they lie. They make up crazy shit to make themselves look better and they will lie right to you fucking face. But go ahead and side with the drunk, with the guy who gets so drunk he can’t make his kids dinner, or who takes off for three days leaving me to take care of William, or gets drunks and calls his ex girlfriends for phone sex, or blows money on porn doubling our cable bill. Not to mention the fact that he owes me over eight grand!! And that he stole my ring and my money! By all means, go be his friend, because if that’s the kind of person you want to have as a friend, I don’t want you anywhere near me.

Until next time ladies and gentlemen. Hopefully this whole civil standby will be well, civil. Fingers crossed!

Well, I tried

2010-07-29T10:25:00.000-07:00

So, I actually typed this all up a few weeks ago, after some real crazy shit went down. I'm not in the mood to get into the whole story, suffice to say although Jason was eager to come help me move out of the place I shared with Arty (finace number one for those of you unaware of the history) , he was not so happy when my new guy came to do the same and help me move out of "his" [Jason's] place. The following is a complete transcription of texts that Jason sent to me. I never respond to his texts with texts, I'm a grown up and I communicate with my words and my speaking voice. A novel concept, I know. Plus, I don't have unlimited text messages and every time he would send me something, his rants would count against my texting plan!! I asked him a ZILLION TIMES to stop texting me and talk like an adult, but alas, it didn't work. Shocking, right? Anyhow, enjoy the ramblings. Oh! And wander on over to Jason's facebook if you want to read his version of events. I'm just kidding, you know he doesn't say anything worth reading. It's just random blatherings where he and his facebook friends talk about what a bitch I am AND where he confesses to drinking three shots of vodka-and then getting behind the wheel! Yes, he is in fact, that stupid. My next blog will get in to that, I promise, it's already written and everything.

You know, I wasn't going to post this, at least not right away, but when I called him at work just now (blocking my phone number so he couldn't avoid me) the first and only thing I said was "Are you going to hang up on me?" I heard a "Yes." and a click. Then I called the apartment complex about getting the last of my stuff (Jason changed the locks-totally illegal since I'm still on the lease!) and I told them I'd be bringing the police on Saturday to get my stuff. They said fine. Then fine. I'll come with the cops, that's not a waste of tax dollars or anything. Seriously, it would take me two seconds to get my things, I know exactly where they are, Jason's just being a jerk, so much of a jerk that now I have to involve the cops. He is such an incredible prick. I hope he enjoys letting the world (and his husband-what he IS still married and she SAYS she a dude-what do YOU call that?) read his words. There will however, be no more. Not becasue he sobered up, I blocked his phone numbers. And his crazy sisters too! I'll post her stuff in another blog as it was also quite hilarious.

Friday July 2nd, 9:18am
From: 916-833-98**

Hope your appt goes well in Palo Alto today.

Friday July 2nd, 10:37am
From: 916-833-98**

Hope your appointment in Palo Altos goes well. Hope you had a good time.

Friday July 2nd, 10:51am
From: 916-833-98**

Fine. I won’t text you anymore. Ever. It’s over. Nevermind

Friday July 2nd, 10:53am
From: 916-247-****

You drunken fuck…where are the kids?!?! They don’t go back to their mothers house until tonight and I swear to god I will send the police to get them from you.

Friday July 2nd, 10:57am
From 916-833-98**

You’re crazy. Just because I was heartbroken over you doesn’t mean I was ever drunk. Not now, not ever. I saw how that damaged and destroyed our relationship.

Friday July 2nd, 10:59am
From: 916-247-****

Where. Are. The. Kids. Tell me now or I’ll send the cops to get you and my grandma to get the kids.

Friday July 2nd, 11:11am
From: 916-247-****

I gave you ten minutes, and you didn’t answer me so now I’m calling the cops. Try and sober up before they get there and stop being such a selfish prick.

Friday July 2nd, 11:18am
From: 916-833-98**

Oh, dear god. I wasn’t drunk. William was sick and I missed you…you were my partner. But not anymore.

Friday July 2nd, 11:31am
From 916-833-98**

Whatever. The kids and I stayed up late last night watching Star Trek. So we slept late. Whatever.

Friday July 2nd, 12:03pm
From: 916-833-98**

Thanks for calling the cops. They came and went in about two minutes. Whatever. Thanks for the concern.

Friday July 2nd, 12:05pm
From: 916-247-****

I’m not concerned for YOU, I’m concerned for the kids. Maybe you should think about them the next time you feel like crawling into a bottle. Selfish personified.

Friday July 2nd, 12:09 pm
From 916-833-98**

Screw you. I didn’t crawl into a bottle. But whatever. Not gonna talk to you anymore. Goodbye.

Friday July 2nd, 4:05pm
From: 916-247-****

For the record, the officer could SMELL the alcohol on you. I saved the voicemail just in case you don’t believe me. Don’t bother texting me your lies anymore.

Friday July 2nd, 4:20pm
From 916-833-98**

Well, that’s impossible because I’ve just been sitting here watching Star Trek with the kids and drinking cider. They were here for about two minutes, so whatever. But I’m done trying to convince you that what I’m doing is right anymore. I know that I am, and it no longer matters what you think. Y I read your blog the other day. You wanted me to get to a place where I’ve accepted that were over? We’re over. I’m tired of being there for you and taking care or you when you cry and picking the bits of hot dog out of the sink after you throw up and trying to be good to you while all the while you’re going out and sleeping with random guys. I wouldn’t take you back at this point no matter what. I’m not drinking, and I haven’t had a drink since March. I’m taking care of my kids instead, But even if I was, it’s none of your business anymore. Go be with your boyfriend and let me move on with my life.

Friday July 2nd, 4:23pm
From: 916-247-****

Stop texting me you drunken fuck. Wouldn’t take me back, huh? I don’t remember that being an option for you. Get yourself together and stop fucking texting me!

Friday July 2nd, 4:32pm
From: 916-833-98**

You texted me, bitch. Think whatever you want because I’m done worrying about what you think. I’m sober now for ME, not you. I’m just trying to have a nice SOBER afternoon with my kids. And no, I wouldn’t take you back. Not anymore. Now stop texting ME.

Friday July 2nd, 4:37pm
From: 916-247-****

Whatever. Have your drunken last word. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have sex with my SOBER boyfriend. No more faked orgasms for me! ;) Enjoy your bag of porn my friend ’cause you aren’t going to be experiencing that for *quite* some time. And don’t call me a bitch, you lush. Enjoy your booze and loneliness pity party. Loser.

Friday July 2nd, 4:44pm
From: 916-833-98**

Enjoy. I wouldn’t touch you again anyway. Oh, and that bag of porn? Throwing it out. That’s why it’s in a bag. Going to move on and find someone who will actually appreciate the good things I do for them. Oh, and for the record? I AM sober, no matter what you or anyone else says. Just ask the kids.

Friday July 2nd, 4:47pm
From: 916-247-****

We’re sorry, this user has activated their drunken text filter. Please try your message again when you reach the point of sobriety. Have a nice day!

Friday July 2nd, 4:47pm
From: 916-833-98**

Oh, and I know you weren’t faking it, just in case you thought that little dig got to me. I was the best you ever had. Now I’ll go be good to someone else instead. Have fun.

Friday July 2nd, 4:48pm
From: 916-247-****

We’re sorry, this user has activated their drunken text filter. Please try your message again when you reach the point of sobriety. Have a nice day!

Friday July 2nd, 4:49pm
From: 916-833-98**

Lol. Whatever. Not going to argue with you anymore. Got better things to do. Goodbye.

Friday July 2nd, 4:49pm
From: 916-247-****

We’re sorry, this user has activated their drunken text filter. Please try your message again when you reach the point of sobriety. Have a nice day!

*******************************************************************************

Saturday, July 3rd, 8:37pm
From: 916-833-98**

The boys and I will leave tomorrow around 6:00pm, and we won’t be back until 9 or 10. Feel free to come by and collect your things if you want.

*******************************************************************************

Wednesday, July 7, 1:59pm
From: 916-833-98**

I didn’t touch any of your stuff. Nothing at all. Whatever you’re looking for is where you left it.

Wednesday July 7, 2:10pm
From: 916-833-98**

You’re crazy. I haven’t touched any of your stuff. Why would you leave $300 laying around and not come back for a week, anyway? And I have no idea where your ring is--I haven’t seen it in months. You’re going to find this stuff somewhere and feel really stupid. But in the meantime, I think you just want to pick a fight and I’m not participating. You stuff is wherever you left it last week. Now stop calling me.

Wednesday, July 7th, 8:58pm
From: 916-833-98**

You’ve made William feel guiltier then I’ve ever seen him. And betrayed. How could you do that to him? He won’t stop crying. He keeps saying that he thought you loved him. Damn you for doing this to him. I can only imagine how Ben and James are going to feel. Damn you.

Wednesday July 7th, 10:23pm
From: 916-833-98**

You may have put in your 30 days’ notice, but you never put in rent for July.

Wednesday July 7th, 10:33pm
From: 916-833-98**

Lindsey…

Wednesday July 7th, 10:40pm
From: 916-833-98**

Lindsey

Wednesday July 7th, 11:15pm
From: 916-833-98**

Lindsey…I want you…

******************************************************************************

Thursday, July 8th, 5:54am
From: 916-833-98**

I have been up most of the night trying to comfort William. He’s ready to call the cops on you on sight. What is wrong with you? He keeps saying that he loved you like a mother, but now he hates you. How could you do this to him?

Thursday, July 8th, 9:52am
From: 916-833-98**

Whatever, Lindsey. The point, not that you care, was that I was up all night with William, who was crying and felt violated. I want you? I want the Lindsey I used to know. Who wouldn’t hurt my kids. So does he, and so will Ben and James. You locked him out of his own house. How do you think he feels?

Thursday, July 8th, 9:59am
From: 916-247-****

You’re a crazy drunken fool with your own twisted perception of reality. Stop texting me. You are now officially the kind of parent you promised you’d never be.

Thursday, July 8th, 10:01am
From: 916-833-98**

Wow. It’s amazing how you can shift responsibility in your mind for locking William out of the house by blaming him. Y’know, the 12 year old. But whatever. I guess that’s what you’re about now. Goodbye.

Thursday, July 8th, 10:03am
From: 916-247-****

You’re a crazy drunken fool with your own twisted perception of reality. Stop texting me. You are now officially the kind of parent you promised you’d never be.

Thursday July 8th, 10:12am
From: 916-833-98**

Say whatever you want to say. You tool stuff that you said you wouldn’t, THAT YOU SAID TO WILLIAM YOU WOULDN’T, and then you locked him out of the house so you wouldn’t have to talk to him about it. So FUCK YOU. He cried all night because he thought you were his mother. But of course, you didn’t have to deal with that--you weren’t here, so I stayed up with him all night. Screw you. You don’t seem to understand that you took things from the kids, too, not just from me. I can only imagine how Ben and James are going to feel when they get here on Friday. Not that you care. You’re not the person I fell in love with 4 years ago.

Thursday July 8th, 10:26am
From: 916-833-98**

Nobody is making William call, by the way. I even tried to discourage him. He’s pissed off all by himself and wants to talk to you. Deal with that.

Thursday July 8th, 10:40am
From: 916-247-****

Well you can both talk to me all you want when I get there. If William is mad, I’m more then happy to talk to him in person. I’m more then happy to talk to both of you, since you obviously won’t speak to me, you just want to call my mom and grandparents. How very brave of you.

*******************************************************************

Tuesday July 13th, 4:36am
From: 916-833-98**

Lindsey, you are, AND ARE absolutely beautiful and stunning. Just want you to know.

*******************************************************************

Wednesday July 14th, 9:49pm
From: 916-833-98**

Lindsey, you have made such a huge impact on my life. I will never forget you. And I’m so sorry. Goodbye.

********************************************************************

Thursday July 15th, 12:33am
From: 916-833-98**

Why? I understand why you wanted ro hurt me. I’ve been less then perfect. But why did you hurt my kids? I don’t understand. They thought of you as their mother…

Thursday July 15th, 2:55am
From: 916-833-98**

Goddamit, while you were staying here, I tried not to take advantage of you any number of times. I wanted to be considerate of your feelings, always. I shouldn’t have. However you take that meaning, I shouldn’t have. I hate being a good guy sometimes.

Thursday July 15th, 3:07am
From: 916-833-98**

Hey. Just wanted to check on you. I imagine you are sleeping well…hope everything is all good, I guess.

************************************************************************

Saturday July 17th, 8:43am
From: 916-833-98**

Can’t hardly stand the thought…

Saturday July 17th, 3:44pm
From: 916-247-****

Open the door. The police are on their way.

**************************************************************************

Monday July 19th, 2:35am
From: 916-833-98**

[No message]

***************************************************************************

Tuesday July 20th, 3:25am
From: 019-833-98**

Very late. Cannot sleep. Not that it matters. Why were you here are Saturday? What was the point? Totally don’t get it. Just leave me alone.

FACEBOOK MESSAGES:

Jason Fritz July 17 at 11:53pm Report
How did we get here?
When I used know you sooooo weeeellllll?

I don't get it.
Sent via Facebook Mobile

Jason Fritz July 18 at 12:26am Report
Want you, like we have been for the last several years. Want to . . . I guess this my last chance . . . I hope you remember me fondly . . . like I will you . . .
Sent via Facebook Mobile

I'm not dead

2010-06-23T11:11:00.000-07:00

Except on the inside. :-)

I found this entry lurking in the shadows of my computer, and it actually went on a little longer then what I'm posting, but I'll save the rest for another day. Of course, who knows how long I'll have internet for! As it is, I'm poaching illegally. But at least I get to use the word poach and that's always fun. Anyhow, enjoy! Next time I'll tell you about the "trying to be nice" text messages I got from Jason's sister (who's probably reading this right now-get a life! Don't you have kids to watch or something? Oh, I'm sorry. I should "try and be nice" to you, huh?. Let me just say: If you have to "try" to be nice about something, that means you're planning on being a bitch. Don't try to double-talk me, little missy! I know your game! Oh, she's gonna hate this. It's really a shame-I always liked Jason's sister. She's named after water, for one thing, and she reminds me of me-a kind of "fuck you mother fucker" broad. And hey, she's doing what she thinks is right-she's just wrong is all. But I would do the same thing in her shoes-though I prefer voicemails to text messages. Threat texts are for chicks with no balls. Hmm. Maybe we're not as alike as I thought. (That whole segment is me trying to get under her skin by the way-and for her to admit she reads my blog-go on, admit it! You know you do!!) Anyway, enjoy the post. God only knows (and even he's not sure) when I'll be back.

*******************************************

I just finished reading a really great book (a memoir if you want to get technical) called Dry by Augusten Burroughs (he’s the guy who wrote Running with Scissors). I must say, I heart this book and not just because I got it for two dollars at the thrift store-though that certainly adds to it’s awesomeness. You know, by looking at the guys picture on the back (close cropped hair under a baseball hat, wire rim glasses, non-descript hooded sweatshirt) you wouldn’t think that, by the young age of twenty five!-he was a alcoholic, crack addicted, gay superstar advertising executive. I love when people surprise you like that. That’s one of the reasons I’m thinking about doing a porn. No, really! Why is that so bad? Why is there such a stigma attached to having sex on camera? I’m certainly not going to give that whole “Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian did it” reasoning because I despise those vapid twits (I’m not entirely sure where that vaguely british sounding insult came from, but I’m going to go with it), but I really don’t see why shooting a porno has to be a bad thing. Hey, I’m not saying I’m going to go out and be Jenna Jameson or anything (not that there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just not into the whole implant thing-I like my boobs just fine, thank you very much) but god knows I’ve had sex with worse guys for free. That sounds terrible doesn’t it? But it’s true! The way I see it, I’m currently young and hot (as long as I don’t think about it too much, I do an *excellent* imitation of a pretty girl-it fools everyone!) and broke. And facing fifteen thousand dollars worth of non-insurance covered surgery, though my grandparents are covering the cost and I don’t think they’d be too wild about the idea of me shooting a porn to pay them back. But that’s not why I’m thinking about it. I mean yes, I am broke, but I’m also curious and non-judgmental. A fun combination if I do say so myself. I don’t have a problem with the world seeing me naked, or seeing me have sex. People watch porn-so what? I like porn, and quite frankly I would rather see real people (okay, not REAL people persay, because most people nowadays are ugly, fat, or a combination of the two-not exactly qualities I’m looking for in my fantasy porn people) having realistic sex-no inner tubes-in realistic places. No postman seducing German beer wenches in the Sahara desert. That almost never happens. Especially in front of a full camera, sound, and lighting crew. But you’d best believe I’m going to require those things for my porn! Hey, if I’m going to be naked for the world, I want to look good doing it. Nothing extreme, but what better time to spring for the French tipped manicure? (Eh, who am I kidding. I’m cheap. I buy my stick on nails from the little girl’s make-up department. They smell like strawberries!) Okay, so maybe I won’t be laying out cash for a manicure, but I’ll use the good body wash I’ve been saving for a special occasion. Well, maybe not-see to me, nudity isn’t that special. I was born in the wrong country I think. I need to take a trip to Sweden. They’re much more relaxed about the whole nudity thing. Nudity is only sexual if it’s in a sexual context. Two nude guys in a room together doesn’t mean anything other then that they’re both hot-heh, that could be taken one of two ways I guess. J

But back to my porn. When I was eighteen or nineteen, I hooked up with my next door neighbor Deric. Yeah. That’s how he spelled it. I remember because he had it tattooed on his arm. (So he wouldn’t forget; I’m pretty sure I made that joke already in a earlier blog-he’s the guy who threw trash in my car and took my cds. Jerk.) Anyway, my mom was out of town one night and he came over to watch tv (aka have sex, but pretend you’re at least going to attempt to pay attention to something else) and brought a couple of beers. I had like half of one (I hate beer, almost as much as I hate girls who drink of their own free will, then hook up with a dude, then blame the guy for “taking advantage” of them when they’re drunk. Please. Don’t want to get drunk? Don’t drink! Stupid.) and we ended up having sex-though I hesitate to call it that. I remember nothing about his capabilities other then that they were non-existent. The whole eight minutes I was thinking about this episode of the Simpsons, the one where Homer buys a snow plow and films a commercial with the jingle “Call Mr. Plow, that’s my name, that name again is Mr. Plow.” I just kept humming that song in my head, and no, the ironically fruedian nature of my singing about being plowed while being, well, plowed, is not lost on me. And for the sake of honesty, I probably shouldn’t claim our encounter was only eight minutes. This was like six or seven years ago and it’s not like I had a stop watch, so my numbers are probably a little off. It was probably more like six minutes. Heh. Anyway, the point is, I slept with Deric, and he was terrible and I barely remember it, and yet for the rest of my life, I have to include that moronic snow plow in my official list of people I’ve slept with. What a waste! I want to add someone (something!) awesome! I have very few regrets in life, but one of them includes not sleeping with this guy Alex in my junior year of high school. My boyfriend and I had broken up (we ended up getting back together later) and Alex, this guy who sat behind me said something, I can’t for the life of me remember what it was, but the basic text was that he was a virgin who would REALLY like to get laid. By me. If I was so inclined, of course. I mean, he didn’t say “I’m a virgin and I really want to have sex with anything that will bend over” but he might as well have. I thought about it (he was kinda cute and I did sorta have a thing for him) but ultimately declined, therefore missing my one and only chance at being somebody’s first sexual partner. Had I but known!! That’s one thing I don’t think I’m ever going to get to be, the de-virginator. The older you get, the slimmer chances of you encountering a guy who’s never been laid. But I suppose that my first sexual experience wasn’t that memorable (other then that we had sipped some champagne and toked a little pot which made everything awesomely fuzzy and warm), so who am I to think that had I chosen to be Alex’s first, that he would really remember it ten years later.

I’m sure there are people at work who read this, and not just the people I insult. I have enough friends left in that building to know when people are talking about me, and despite the court order ordering Ken, Linda, Gerri, and Paula to shut their pie holes, rumors persist. What can you do. And besides, what do I care? How sad for you if you have nothing left to discuss but me. Whatever. The only thing I admittedly don’t like is people thinking that I’m mean (who me?) for no reason. The being mean thing isn’t a problem, people always think that, probably because it’s true, but mean and unwarranted? No. That rumor I do not like. Actually, I’m not even sure that’s what people think (hey, I know what they’re saying but I’m not a freakin’ mind reader) but for the record (and as most three year olds will agree) they started it! Paula, my supposed friend, actually went on my “I guess we’re not friend’s after all” list when she didn’t return a message I left for her in November (a full month before there was even talk of me being AWOL). This wasn’t a “hey what’s up, give me a call message” this was a “you said I could call you if I needed to talk and I need to talk” message. I won’t get into the specifics (ask Paula, I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it-court order be damned) but suffice to say it apparently wasn’t important enough to call me back. So fine. We’re not friends. Whatever. But even if you’re not my friend, it’s a pretty fucked up thing to do to not tell a person that they’re about to lose their job. I never liked my boss, Linda, but I sure as hell would have called her if she was going to lose her job! I have a soul for chrissakes! Especially considering it was right before Christmas-and they know I have three kids! Even if I didn’t, what kind of people do that? Especially after I showed how I *had* called in to work just like I was supposed to (AWOL my mother-bleepin’ eye!) and brought in a note from my doctor, explaining why I couldn‘t go back to work. And I got freakin’ appendicitis right in the middle of all this AWOL stuff, which was just fantastic because being AWOL canceled out my health insurance. That was fun, dealing with endometriosis, appendicitis, no job, and no insurance all at the same time. And this was before I lost my fiance, kids, and place to live. And now I’ve straightened out the insurance thing (though it does continue to be somewhat of a pain in the ass, the important thing is that I have insurance), have a roof over my head**, I get to hang out with the kids, my appendix is out, and I’m at T-minus ten days to having my surgery to burn the hell out of my endometriosis riddled insides. And scraping cysts off of my ovaries, which also makes for a nice mental picture, especially if you imagine it being done with an ice cream scoop.

They all managed to convince themselves that I was faking my illness so I could skip work and hang around doing god only knows what.

****************************************

They probably assume I sit around blogging all day. You know, I think I'm going to go hang out at the farmers market next week. Pretty much everyone from work goes there and I think it's high time everyone saw my lovely face again. I'll bet they missed me.

Ooh, science-y

2010-05-27T19:52:00.000-07:00

Here is a list of the procedures I had done on Tuesday that left me with these four beautiful new incisions on my body. My favorite is the ovarian drilling. Makes me feel like there's little guys in bright yellow hard hats, just drilling away in there. Anyway, read on and feel better about your own health. :-)

Laparoscopy, Hysteroscopy (NOT to be confused with a hysterectomy), Treament of Endometriosis, Cystoscopy, Sigmoidoscopy, Endometrial Biopsy, Ovarian Cystectomy, Ovarian drilling, and a Chromotubation. They also found some fibroids when they were poking around down there and those were removed too. Fun stuff, huh? Makes me kind of with I hadn't skipped sixth period biology every single day of high school. Of course my boyfriend at the time (the same boyfriend who ignored me when I tried to send him a message on facebook! More on that another time, that's a story in itself) had no sixth period and we took the same bus, so I would usually cut class so we could go back to his place and have sex (and on that note, hi grandma!). Meh. Somehow I don't think biology would have prepared me for any of this. Who even remembers high school nowadays? My sister's reunion is coming up (and she'd better stick to her word and take me!) which means it's been ten years since Edgar Allan Poe (or however you spell it. Look, like I just said, I cut class all the time, so pardon me for not knowing how to spell the name of some dead poet who was obsessed with birds. Anyway...) seemed important.

Speaking of important, one of my favorite shows this started, and while this hotel has just about everything, sadly, it lacks in DVR capabilities, ergo, see ya!!

YOU'RE a fall risk!

2010-05-26T18:45:00.000-07:00

The last time I had laproscopic surgery, I woke up and was super dizzy from the anesthetic. They had me try to stand up, but that just made it worse, and I ended up almost wiping out on the recovery room floor (some recovery, right?). So the one of the nurses cam back with a huge yellow bracelet that said in all Caps "SERIOUS FALL RISK". I'm sure it had something to do with the crazy amount of drugs I had been doped up on, but at the time I thought it was hilarious. They should make me wear one of those bracelets every day. I am ALWAYS a fall risk, and a huge one at that. One day, many years ago (I was like...nineteen? Something around there) I went to the Barnes and Noble at Arden Fail mall. It was raining, and the roads sidewalks were slippery. Very Slippery. However, the sidewalks slip factor was NOTHING compared to the slick tile floor awaiting me inside the mall. I bit it hard. Went sliding down my stomach for a good two feet and shit from my purse went everywhere. This is not to be confused with the time that I had to carry a huge stack of papers to a very important meeting, and I somehow ended up FALLING OUT OF MY SHOES and I dropped papers everywhere. It was a memo snowstorm-and just as fun as it sounds to clean up! I think I get this klutziness thing from my sister. Years ago, she fell off of third base (which is what, like a quarter inch off of the ground?) and ended up fracturing her ankle. Her softball career was never the same. It must run in the family.

So I still don't have internet access, that why my updates are so sporadic yet again. And I just got out of the hospital! I'm currently recovering in Palo Alto (where they DO have internet access, unlike us lowly sacramento-ians)and should return to town on Friday, with four more beautiful scars inching their way way to my crotch. Lovely mental picture, I know. And on that note....

I'll be back tomorrow once the haldol/fentanly cocktail wears off. :)

Do you need a license to diagnose stupidity?

2010-04-25T16:41:00.000-07:00

Even though my instinct is to sit here and scream for a few minutes "FUCKING HEALTHCARE SYSTEM AND IT'S PIECES OF SHIT "DOCTORS" AND "NURSES" THEY GET QUOTATION MARKS BECAUSE THEY ARE MORONS!! I HOPE THEY FALL INTO GIANT VATS OF BOILING HUMAN BLOOD!"

Okay, I'm better now. Let me back up.

For the past few weeks (maybe a month or so) I've been using the Fentnyl patch to alleviate my endometriosis symptoms and it's been working quite well. But I need to wear more then one at a time to get to the dosage my doctor had prescribed, and these dang old patches had a tendency to fall off before they were ready (each patch is supposed to be worn for three days). So I called my doctor and left him a message, saying I was having a had time keeping the patches on-especially in the shower (I like mine hot at steamy, like liquid zoloft) and they would slide around if I exercised. Plus, they left little red bumpy patches all over my arms. I tried putting them in different places, my back, my neck, my legs, my arms, no one spot seemed any better then another. So my doctor calls me back and says, "Don't worry about it, we can talk about switching you to the pill (per my request) so don't stress." Man, I was super glad to hear it because I had already lost like four of the freakin' things but until that little light bulb in my brain kicked on and said "Use first aid bandages, you stupid fuck!", I was just folding and flushing them (that's what the box said to do, and I didn't want my sisters dumb cat making herself high of my patches). So I taped the last of them down. Monday comes around, the doctor doesn't call me back. Tuesday morning-same thing. I call at like 11:30 on Tuesday and leave another message for my doctor, and a message for the medication refill nurse. The medication refill nurse returns my call on Wednesday and refers me to call my doctor. I call again on Wednesday and this time I make an appointment to see the next available doctor. In my appoinment request, I make sure to tell the receptionist to include in her notes that I will need a refill of Fentnyl. She says no problem, but that she can't book me to see my regular doctor until May, so I'll need to see someone else. I say fine. I see this doctor-who clearly did not look at any part of my chart beyond my name, because the first thing she says (after I tell her that I'm here for a refill on my Fentnyl) is "What is it that you even have? We don't prescribe those sorts of medications unless you have a chronic pain condition. This is a serious medication. These aren't for like, headaches or things like that" Are you serious? Did you even read my name, because name and diagnosis would be the two most important pieces of knowledge to arm yourself with if you trying to pass yourself off like a doctor. The she says to me, "Well, I'm not comfortable with that explanation (the "explanation" being that I have endometriosis and poly-cystic ovarian syndrome, two conditions that even when independent can cause chronic pain) , so what I'm going to do here is write you a prescription for vicoden." Wow. Again, had she actually OPENED my chart, she would have seen that I have been prescribed Vicoden many, many times over the course of my illness and it has never worked. Neither has percocet. Neither has morphine. Neither has dilaudid. Neither has tramadol. They're are a million things that my doctor has tried to prescribe me and if you had OPENED MY CHART, you would have seen that. So then she had to go out to the hallway and have a little whispery conversation with my main doctor about how she didn't feel comfortable prescribing some of my size (um, thanks?) such a strong opiate. This resulted in her writing me a prescription for three days worth of the batch (that's what I sounded like that day. I had a cold), and scheduled my an appointment the following Monday at 8:00 am with my regular doctor.

So as much as I would like to end this story with, "I went in on Monday and got my meds, no problem" but unfortunately I must have drowned a bus full of blind nuns and their seeing eye dogs in a past life, because luck was just not with me this week.I got my meds, sure. Dropped the prescription off nice and early Monday morning. I got a call On Tuesday saying that my insurance would no longer cover the Fentnyl patch? Say what? So I go down to talk to the pharmacist and she is super helpful-I've noticed that about the Walgreens staff by my house. The staff is really friendly-she gives me the number to my insurance folks and I flex my dialing fingers. After spending a ridiculously long time trying to figure out what department I need to speak to, I end up getting into this horrible round about conversation with one of their customer service reps. She told me that after the 24th of April, they would no longer pay to refill my patch. You're kidding, right? I've only been on it for a few weeks, it's the only thing that's proven to be effective, and you're telling me you will no longer pay for it? That's crap! And as it turns out, the girls was just dumb. She was trying to say that they wouldn't do any early refills before the 24th. Maybe she's dyslexic and the words in front of her computer her scared. Heh.

Man, this is a long story! Seems like that should have been it, huh? I wish! I told the pharmacist that everything had been straightened out with regards to my meds being covered. They said fine, no problem, she even checked to make sure they had it in stock-which they did. "Yay!" It gets quotation marks because I actually said it out loud. Well, that yay was misleading! She asked when I'd like to pick it up, and I said I needed it by Friday. I told her to call me if there were any more problems with the insurance because they've been giving me grief about all kinds of things. She said not to worry about it, she'd call if there were any problems. Thursday morning rolls around and I realize I haven't heard from the Pharmacy that my prescription is ready. I check my voice mail (which despite having a new phone, still is not working for some reason) and realize I do in fact have a voice mail from the pharmacy, left on Thursday evening. I was about to hop in the shower, and just as I get out (another show of how great they are-they somehow knew to wait until I was out of the shower before calling! Coincidence or not, it's still neat. And whenever I call them back, the know me by name. And "Keefauver" ain't exactly an easy one to spell.So I get a phone call from the Pharmacy saying 1. They actually DON'T have it in stock(That's when they dropped five points) and 2. I need a new prescription because the instructions written by my doctor say to cut the patch in half, and you can't do that without screwing with the way the medicine enters your body. So that's awesome news! My patch RAN OUT on Friday, and the next closest walgreens at florin and 24 wouldn't have any in until saturday. Basically, I was screwed. And indeed (since I am of COURSE on my period for a time like this) I ended up getting sick on Saturday afternoon. And my friend and I went to lunch in the beautiful shininess we called Saturday, but instead of ending with a movie, it ended with me going to the ER*. :(

So this is where the real complaining comes in. That was really just laying the ground floor to bitch about people who get paid far to much money for being so ignorant. Through my pain induced tears, the nurse without a soul (ha, the first time I spelled that "sole". Her shoes were kind of atrocious, but lets be honest here- hospital shoes aren't made for fashion. Guys get it way easier in that aspect, anyway.) asked me to point to where it hurt. I told her behind my bellybutton, same place as always. It feels like someone has covered my uterus and abdomen with burning hot coals, and they're being jabbed with devil sticks, being twisted over lava. Pleasant thought, I know. Hey, try living it. Anyway, as I was answering her, a huge wave of plain blindsided me and just totally kicked my ass. I doubled over, and I guess I must have fucked up the blood pressure she was trying to take. She ripped the cuff off and started yelling at me! She got right in my face and said "You need to stop this! Right now! This is ridiculous! Endometriosis does not cause people to be in pain!" Wow. I mean, WoWoW! What the hell is this crazy broad talking about? Just because you've never heard of something, doesn't mean it doesn't exist! Have you ever read a book, hey, even an article-an internet article! about this? Spell it. Go on. Spell. It. Then, because even though I have an appointment with a REAL doctor (my specialist in Palo Alto, you know, the guy who was in Time magazine for developing laproscopic surgery) with paperwork that specifically says, "patient suffers from endometriosis", that was not good enough for the doctors who don't believe that endometriosis causes pain. So instead of simply giving me the medication my doctor prescribed (Fentnyl), they proceed to spend almost four hours giving me medications, that had they looked at my chart, they would have seen that things like dilaudid, and tormadol, and ativan, and benydryl don't alleviate my symptoms. Oh, and they were all laughing at me (Just like in Carrie..."They're all gonna laugh at you!") because they gave me tons of IM drugs and they didn't so much as make a dent. I swear, even though I'm a stick bug, I have a ridiculously high tolerance. I wonder if that has anything to do with my dad being a drug addict. It must, right? Bleah. I hate to think that I developed anything from that guy. My sister was telling him about how I was in the hospital, and in interrupted her to ask her to hand him his cigarettes. Classy guy, right? I can't remember the last time the man sent me so much as a birthday card. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even have my address-thank goodness. But anyway, they all laughed at me! The nurse to my left (I wasn't wearing my glasses and I was crying) was talking to the nurse on my right saying "It's too bad we can't get the anesthesiologist down for people like this...it sure would save us some trouble, huh? Bam! Out like a light!" So I said (not as loudly as I usually say things-MY VOLUME IS NATURALLY HIGH, but they could hear me "I can hear you, you know", I said. The nurse on my right didn't even look at my "No, no, sweetheart, we're talking about someone else from earlier. Nobody's talking about you. Shhh, shhhhh now." And then she looked at the other nurse and they both laughed. So that's just great. "Don't talk to me like I can't fucking hear you. And don't fucking LAUGH AT ME". Grawr! I'm not an idiot, idiot! I'm so sick of people thinking that 1. endometriosis is a made up disease [so it doesn't hurt] 2. I just want drugs or 3. I made up the disease endometriosis because I want drugs. Well, I can only hope they'll get there's in the end. I don't wish anyone to be in physical pain or anything, but wouldn't it suck if like...bees nested in their chimney. Or they went color blind. Ooh, or if someone started writing a "mean" blog about them! Sorry, I couldn't think of a better way to sneak in Kenneth, Gerri, and Linda, but there you have it.

So I'm back at home now, having been officially diagnosed with abdominal pain-cause unknown.The question is, do you need any sort of license to diagnose stupidity? However, they did manage to get an IV in place in only one try-pretty impressive. Of course my veins are seriously blown now, so the go in through my neck. But at least they've started listening when I say my veins are blown! Normally they would poke around for a good two hours, looking for the veins that do not exist. Now that they're started listening to me, it's very "wham, bam, thank you ma"am".

Ah, silly me. I thought I wouldn't be able to end this ranting blog on a classy note. :)

*Luckily I was with a very nice friend who got me in the back of an ambulance. Man, I sure do feel bad for bugging his neighbors with that whole ambulance arrival. But as much as I hate getting the sympathy thing, how can you really be mad at the girl who gets sick? I'm sorry, I really am. But that's like living next door to a little girl in a wheel chair who has to get up a steep driveway. Are you telling me you wouldn't help her? I saw this little old lady just the other day, and she was going against the crosswalk light! She had on dark glasses and it was kinda busy, but I screeched over and hoped out and got her safely across the street. Other people were honking at first. What the fuck? How is that helping? It's not her fault!! She can't see very well! What if this was YOUR mama huh? Would you want people driving by her all crazy, honking and yelling shit, screaming out the windows for her to mover her all? No! So shut your goddam face, get out of your truck and help her. And you'd best get your ass to the hallmark store and buy your mama one of them six dollar cards. And some flowers. Dang.

Most productive 4/20 ever

2010-04-20T16:35:00.000-07:00

And........exhale. :-)

For the record, I'm the one who just completed my twenty minute daily pole workout. And I'm the reason we had a huge poster of a topless woman hanging above our bed. And I'm the one who kept the Strip-a-robics DVD next to All Dogs Go To Heaven. To a lot of people, that would make me the one with the problem. To the rest, it would just make me even more awesome. The point is, if you're going to try to label someone a perv, you could at least get your facts straight. I'm still unsure why, in this day and age, there are still people out there who take issue with porn, but Haley and Kate are exceptionally unattractive-maybe ugly people have a different take on porn. I really wouldn't know. I was going to stretch this into a joke about how in the ugly club they're handed a paper bag to put over their head during initiation, but I've got to go rent a storage unit, so unfortunately, I just don't have time to beat this particular joke to death. Maybe next time.

Sigh. I don't want to rent a storage unit. I don't want to pack up my shit. I don't want to move out of the beautiful town home where I've lived for the past two years. I don't want to leave my animals. I don't want to leave anyone. I don't want to do any of this, but I don't really have a choice. I can either leave now, or leave in ten years when I realize we're still having the same problems and fighting about the same damn things. I don't want to do that either. For the past six months, ever since the incident with the church retreat, I've been having these recurring dreams that I'm traveling. By kayak, by foot, by water slide, in every dream I'm on the move, trying to get away from something that I can't see. I'm no psychologist or anything, but that seems to me, even my subconscious is telling me to move on. But sometimes, especially on days like this, when I wake up to an in-box full of text messages from my second ex-fiance, I just want to go back to my old house, walk up my old stairs, crawl back into my old bed, and say "forget it, none of this really happened". But that's Jason's method of moving on, not mine. If it were up to him (and it clearly isn't) we would just pretend that nothing happened, and that no awful things were said, and we'd both just pretend nothing ever happened. Silly me for allowing him to get away with that even once, right? Totally my fault, and mark my words, it won't happen again.

There are a lot of things that happened through out the course of our relationship that won't be happening again (like the whole having sex with Jason thing). Which is really a shame! It's ironic that his wife thought she was a lesbian (hey, she's not a lesbian anymore, is she? No. Then it's not rude for me to use past tense phrasing. So there.) because he gave the best oral sex ever. Seriously, I wish you could have your last guy train your new guy in things like that because he was amazing. Not enough guys posses that skill in my opinion, though contrary to most girls, I've never come across (heh. I said "come") a guy who didn't want to head below the equator. Maybe that's just my good fortune, but I like to think it's thanks to my beautiful vagina (alright, who blushed?). Whatever the reason, I'll have to watch myself, because my combination of loving sex and Jason's kick ass pussy licking skills* could very easily lead to me falling back in bed (though not back into a relationship) with him, and I don't want to do that to him or to me.

That's why I had to hook up with another guy (or guys, rather) so quick. It makes it easier to move on emotionally when you've already moved on physically, or at least that's been my personal experience. And I've done this whole moving on thing before, but it doesn't usually involve me moving in with my sister. AT least I'm not moving somewhere by myself!! I have issues with being alone, and hey, I'm the first one to bring it up. I'm totally open about it and I acknowledge that as a shortcoming of mine, but I don't necessarily see it as a problem. I don't like to be alone. So what? Why does everybody tell me that I have to live on my own to get over that? I don't want to live on my own! Noises scare me! I get bored. I talk to myself. I watch too much TV. I become a hermit and don't leave the house. I don't want to do those things! I don't mind being by myself per say, and a lot of the time I like it. I like to blast my music and clean naked and read trashy romance novels without anyone watching, but when it comes to bed time, the whole sleeping alone thing really freaks me out. I don't need someone in the same bed, or the same room, but I need to know that someone else is also sleeping in the house. But you know, I was fine being alone when I had my dog. Lucky. That was both his name and my attitude towards having him. But I couldn't take him away from the kids. Haley and Kate have gotten rid of tons of the kids pets with only minimal and nonsensical explanations (for example-the turtle at their mom's house ran away) and I'm not going to take any more pets away from them. But I loved my dog, and I miss him (and my cats, but there's just something different about a dog). He doesn't miss me as much anymore though. He's getting used to me not being there, which I guess is good because I don't want him to be sad all the time, but I miss going to see him and having him be so excited to see me. Of course, the way I miss the dog doesn't even begin to compare to how I miss the kids, but I don't want to talk about that. This keyboard isn't water proof.

On a completely different note, is so strange to think that there are people out there (and this isn't me being egotistical, this is being confirmed by the finally working blogger counter) who are checking my blog so much to the point that only an hour or so after I post a new entry, I've had a handful (like six) of hits. Weird! I wonder what people think, since I know that the majority of people (with one super cool exception that I will expand on later in another entry) who read this hate me to some degree or another (by the way, I'm being nice and using hate instead of jealous, but I think a quick glance in even a fun house mirror would clear things up on that one) so I wonder how they make themselves feel better after reading this. Candy bars? Manicures? Leaving work early because of stress? HA! Oh my gosh, that would be too funny. I hope they do try and pull that crap. And why not? That place hasn't changed a friggin' bit since I've been gone. People show up and leave whenever they damn well please and no one gives a fuck. Surprise surprise. I"m actually going to take this opportunity to do something with my life and I can't wait for them to read all about it.

*The question is, how will Haley and Kate share this entry with the kids? My blog has a disclaimer for a reason, you fuck-wits. This blog is SO not appropriate for kids, and yet you insist on reading my entries to them. You're only making yourselves look bad, you must realize that on some level. And if not, well, I hope you enjoyed reading to everyone about my beautiful vagina. :-)

Happy Holiday!

2010-04-20T10:26:00.001-07:00

I remember when I worked at the Secretary of State's office a few years back and they had a munchie potluck to celebrate four twenty. People brought chips, and brownies, and someone brought meatballs, there was a meat and cheese tray, and someone brought...coleslaw. Seriously. Coleslaw? Maybe it's just me, but that is terrible stoner food! Isn't it made from like cabbage and mayonnaise? Bleah. Double bleah! They best part was that I spent that whole day totally high. What? It was four twenty! If not then, when? Anyway, moving on from me and my smokes...

As much as I hate to tell the same story over and over again, sometimes, when you're dealing with people who are that special kind of stupid, you have to cover the same ground multiple times before they can follow the trail. But hey, I'm used to dealing with small children and goldfish so I'm used to the short attention span and the tendency to over eat (heh) so here we go.

Haley and Kate are such stalkers! They're giving our oldest kid some bullshit about "Watch out for your dad." and "Lindsey's saying mean things about your dad on the internet." Let's cover the second thing first-what mean things have I said exactly? That he likes to watch porn-so do I! So what? Like I said, I don't have a problem with porn (and neither does he, and neither does any other normal human being with a healthy sex drive) so what's the problem? I just don't like getting hassled about taking money out of a joint account when I notice a charge on the cable bill for porn. How exactly is that your business-and what the eff does that have to do with the kids? Are we going to go perusing through your financial's next? Should we see what charges YOU'VE been racking up lately? And to tell William "Watch out for your dad"-there's nothing to watch out for! Jason and I broke up and that *obviously* tends to leave people a little peeved (oh, that's right-I forgot you're only familiar with emotions you've looked up on the internet-and peeved *is* a mighty big word for one such as yourself). Our disagreements are kept far from the kids-why would we start fighting in front of them now? I know that's what YOU do every time you slip back into dirty-lying-big fat cheater mode, but news flash-it wasn't that dramatic for us. Our reason for separating has never made it to this website and it never will. I have (and will continue to) write about any disagreements we may have, but just like my opinions of him at the moment are not so flattering, you'll both recall* that my opinions of the both of you have NEVER been flattering. So if you're saying you trust my opinions of others, then what *exactly* does that say about the two of you, hmm? Haley, are you admitting that you're a no good cheater who lies to her children (not to mention herself) on a daily basis? Kate, do I hear you confessing to being a fowl mouthed freeloading four eyes [note: I swear that wasn't alliterative on purpose, but it is kinda funny] ? You can't say "Oh, well her opinion of us is completely wrong, but her opinion of HIM is spot on." Sorry toots, it doesn't work that way. Besides, I looked back through my blogs just the other day and I don't see anything bad being said about Jason other then that I was mad at him and once when we were fighting I poured a drink on his head. Hilarious, sure, but not against the law or endangering anyone. Sheesh. If it makes you feel any better, I can pour a drink on your head the next time I see you. In fact, for you, I'm happy to waste *two* drinks. Let me know. :-)

*God, it's getting *really* annoying to have to keep addressing things to Kate and Haley!! Jason and I aren't together anymore. You two are now officially stalking his ex-fiance's sex blog-that's what this is morphing into! Why do you want to read about my sex life? Really? I mean, I know I'm hot, and if you weren't such hideously unattractive and moronic human beings, maybe you'd have a chance and finding somebody who had say...my eyes. That'd be about as good as you could do. They're obsessiveness is freaky, right? I'm sure they scan through all my pictures and think, "damn, I wish I/he/she (ha!) looked half as good." They're probably thinking of me the whoooooole time-and if they're not yet, they fact that they would continue to come back to a blog which has slowly but surely transitioned to a semi-regular updates of my sexcapades, shows that they have an interest in another girl's sex life-why else if not for my hotness, right? I mean that, and of course, my big sexy brain. I'm keeping my hair long so I can take some tasteful (i.e. cleverly concealed) nudie shots while I'm still young and somewhat attractive and I'll take something I can put up here, juuuust so I can continue to get in their heads. Heh. This is probably freaking everybody the hell out, huh! I too shudder (and projectile vomit) at the thought of bumping uglies with either of the Jenny Craiger's, but this is the only way to ensure that I get into their heads enough to eff with their next round of find the salami (no, really-it's salami. That's all her HMO would pay for). Thanks to me, they'll be thinking of...me! And who wouldn't? (She said modestly) I have this theory that every time someone else is thinking of you during sex, and you're not the one they're actually having sex with at the moment, that it makes you that much more kick ass in bed. Either that or I just like making up theories. It's hard to say really. :-)

P.S. I almost made it through a whole blog entry without mentioning Kenneth, Linda, or Gerri! Amazing! And I didn't even say anything about how I know people in the building are talking about me-and how that's just fan-freaking-tastic-no really! I don't mean that sarcastically. But you should set them all straight-remember, I am allowed in the building. In fact, I was there on Thursday. You know, everyone's moved around so much it's hard to remember where exactly my sister sits. Gosh, I hope I don't accidentally wander into any of your cubicles looking for her. Now wouldn't that be awkward.

I'm in love!

2010-04-07T21:28:00.000-07:00

With my new phone. Simmer people, I'm not that dumb! No boyfriends, remember? But I got an AWESOME new phone and it came straight to my sister's door-for free (and in less then twenty four hours)!! It's pretty and red and slides out-plus it has nifty graphics. Oh!! And if your hear o song on the radio that you like, you hold the phone up to listen and it will tell you the name of the song and artist!! Cool, huh? It's a Samsung FreeForm (good thing the box is still sitting right next to me, otherwise I wouldn't have remembered).

Mmm. Jen-nay just came over and fed sister and I the most delicious dinner. Lasagna, Garlic bread, Caesar (I apparently do not know how to spell that word-go figure) salad, and a delicious brownie cookie thing for dessert. Yum. Oh, and I scheduled my surgery today-they were full for April, but I'm going in on May 3rd. Cross your fingers, eyes, toes, legs, and arms for me-and then sneeze. Then you'll be stuck that way. :-)

That was fast*

2010-04-07T17:52:00.000-07:00

*That's what she said. My sister is going to make William a shirt that says that. It's only the funniest joke EVER to a twelve year old boy-and it works for everything! Funny joke, right? You know what's not funny though-Jason telling me he doesn't want me to come over and see the kids because he's mad that I took money out of the bank without asking/telling him first.

I guess I'm not really that surprised. I mean, my sister did warn me. It's not like I didn't see it coming, but still. Telling me I'm no longer invited to come see the kids because I took a hundred and ten bucks out of our account? That's low man. It's not like I was buying crack or BOOZE or anything. I needed gas, money for the doctor, and groceries. I don't need to justify what I'm spending my money on to anyone, least of all a guy who was more then happy to spread our cash around the liquor store-and on renting porn.** Not that there's anything wrong with watching porn, not at all-I heart me some porn sometimes, but don't bitch at me that we're broke when we've apparently got enough cash for you to cough up to see some boobs. Boobs that aren't even as nice as mine! What can I say-I've got a nice rack. But that's not the point! The point is, I'm tired of carrying our finances. Jason and I are locked into our lease until June 1st. That means he's got two months two figure out how he's going to pay for his portion of the bills. Apparently there's a problem with his child support. Sorry, but that's YOUR problem, not mine. I've got my own problems buddy, and I don't have time to help someone who can't be bothered to help themselves.

Rarg. He's so frustrating sometimes. He just can't get his shit together! It took him over a month just to figure out how to get a car-and I still don't think he has one. He and I were together almost four years and he's STILL not divorced. He and his (still wife!) have been separated for like six years! Six years and he's no closer to being divorced now then he was the day we met. Fan-freaking-tastic. It's sad when *I'm* the most motivated one in the relationship. Motivation is not my middle name. I'm thinking about changing my middle name actually. No really! I've really put some thought into this. I'm not even going to change my middle name entirely, I just need to change one letter. Instead of being Lindsey Ann Keefauver, I want to be Lindsey And Keefauver. That's what it sounds like I'm saying anyway, it sounds like I'm a law firm doesn't it? Thank you for calling Lindsey And Keefauver: For all your big mouth law defending needs! If we lose, you pay double. Good slogan, no? But really, I'm serious about the changing my name thing. As soon as I get an extra three hundred dollars or whatever it costs to file for a name change these days, I'm changing my letter. That's all it is really. It's not even a name change-it's just one little letter! One tiny little insignificant letter. It's not like I'm changing my name to Aquanetta (though that was a close second).

**You know, upon reflection, there were a lot of signs for things that I never really put together until later. When we moved from the apartments in Arden to the apartments in the Pocket area, my bottle of Smirnoff was gone-it was a full, new bottle and Jason was VERY quick to reassure me that he had dropped the old bottle and broken it-and that he would replace it, no problem. There were movies that had been rented after I after I had gone to sleep, late at night when he was supposed to work the next day. There was the day I came home from running errands in the middle of the afternoon and found him in our bedroom, hanging out with his laptop in one hand and his d**k in the other (woah Lindsey! Settle down there!) and I thought, "Whateve (no R), we all need to give ourselves a hand every now and again. In fact, let me help you out baby." [Seriously, that's what I do when I find my guy jerking off in the middle of the afternoon. I strip and climb on top. That's just how awesome of a chick I am sometimes.] Okay, okay, I'm reining it in now, I swear. Too private? I don't think so. It's not like I'm making shit up and there's nothing wrong with masturbation-I promise, it doesn't make the angels cry. Not that much anyway. And you can use their tears as lubricant. ;-)

So hopefully this will all be WAY to much information for everyone and you'll all go blind. Masturbation will do that too, you know. And make your hair fall out. And it will give your mother cancer. And kill puppies. And orphans. And you touching yourself caused global warming. In fact, your masturbating is what caused the earthquake in Haiti, and when the apocalypse comes in 2012 like Hollywood promises is will, that will be your fault too.

Pervert.

Third time is NOT the charm

2010-04-06T09:07:00.000-07:00

What could be better then having to live down the street from your ex-fiance? I know! Living down the street from TWO of your ex-fiance's! Yup, that's right. I've been engaged twice, collected three rings (don't ask), and been married never...and now I'm living right around the corner from everyone who's asked me to marry them. Guys really need to stop doing that-both the asking me to marry them thing and the living around the corner thing. I will apparently agree to marry anyone who asks-gotta work on that, I know. Well, I'm not dating anyone at the moment, and I'm thinking that I should take a little break from the whole boyfriend thing-of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to be joining a nunnery or anything. Just because I'm not interested in having a boyfriend, doesn't mean I'm going to sit around and wait for my hymen to regrow. What can I say, I'm a fan of sex. I know, I know, guys hate that, right? What could be worse then hooking up with a twenty five year old chick who's not interested in a relationship, doesn't ever want to get married, and can't have kids? I mean, guys my age are all about marriage and babies. [There really needs to be an eye rolling emoticon]. At least I'm back to guys my age-kind of. I had a brief hook up in Palo Alto with a nineteen year old. Man, did that take me back! He was nineteen and going to college on a baseball scholarship...and that's pretty much all I knew about him. That and that his name was...uh...um...Mitchell, or Mitchum, or something like that. Hey, I said I wasn't interested in a boyfriend! Quite frankly, I didn't care about his life-he was cute and I wanted to make out with him. Once I confirmed that he was over eighteen, I wasn't interested in learning anything else.

A lot of people are going to think this is a real bitch move, me talking about hooking up with other guys on an internet forum where my ex-fiance could read about it. But what do I do instead? Pretend nothing's happening? Jason and I have been separated for over a month now and given the way that he and I got together, it shouldn't surprise him to hear that I've moved on. And I *have* moved on. But let me reiterate-NO boyfriends. Boyfriends are too much work. A boyfriend is more work then a fiance if you think about it. When you're engaged, you can let your guard down a little-take off your eyeliner, you know? But with a boyfriend, you're still at that stage where you want to brush your teeth before they wake up; have him think that you're always that nice and minty fresh. :-)

Jason's parents are in town. As I'm typing this, they're sitting a few blocks away, in the house formerly known as mine. I feel like I should see them, I want to see them, but what am I supposed to say? Sorry your son's a lousy drunk? Who wants to hear that? But they're leaving tomorrow, so if I'm going to see them, today's the day. They're such nice people and I feel badly for them. I know they wished they lived closer to Jason and the kids (or vice versa) so I'm glad they were able to come down-even if I didn't get to see them. Hmm. Upon reflection, they may like me a little less if they discover the whole "I've moved on to having sex with other guys" thing. Ah, well. Self-censorship? I'm afraid I just can't do that. And besides, I doubt Jason's parents read this-his sister (who I will also miss-and who just had a baby!!) might, but probably not his parents.

This entry is very scattered, I know. I'm trying not to go back and edit anything out, even if it reads a little choppily. I'm trying to get out a lot of words, I can't be too concerned about their placement.

I drank last night!! I almost feel like that deserves it's own journal entry, it's that rare of an occurrence. I had delicious hot sake-I drank my entire half of the bottle. Man, I sure do wish I could drink to the point of getting drunk, or smoke to the point of getting high, but there isn't enough booze or ganja in the world to turn my brain off. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but I'm feeling rather optimistic today, so let's go with good. Good? Good.

God, stupid blogger is all fucked up. Their counter thing is such a piece of crap! My number of profile views have always been screwed up. At first it would keep count by tens (like 120, 170, 210...) then it started updating the number of views once a week instead of every day, then it started counting by hundreds (500, 600, 700), then it added random numbers once a week (812, 830, 844), and now it's actually subtracting views! I went from 1504 back down to 1500. Apparently people are deleting me from their brain. Whatever. I am curious as to how many people have actually read this thing [I was trying to think of a nicer term for "garbage". Nice self esteem, right?] but it's not that big of a deal. I don't have a job or a place to live and I just got out of the hospital. I can't be bothered to care that much about a blog. Heh. That reminds me of the losers I used to work with. I seriously cannot do a blog entry without mentioning that. Really, I can't. I tried, and I failed-like Kenneth! Ha! And Linda!! Double ha!! They have no one to blame but themselves (and maybe Gerri); if not for them dragging me to court, I would have so been over it by now. I have the attention span of a dyslexic flea and am easily distracted by shiny objects. Ooh, tinfoil!

I'm sleepy. Good sleepy. I've been up since like six and I didn't sleep much, but when I did sleep, I slept well. I need to spend the night at my friend's house more often actually-their bed was VERY comfortable. Not that I'm complaining about my sister's couch or anything. :-)

As a parting story, I think my new medication is tweaking my brain. I'm on the Fentyl patch (don't quote me on the spelling, I'm too hungry to go look it up) and it makes me a little antsy. Or maybe that's just because I've had a lot on my mind and it coincides with my starting this medication. I do enjoy blaming things-just ask my ex-fiance's. Hey, you won't even have to go far to find them. :-)

sniff.....ahh.....

2010-03-26T14:59:00.000-07:00

Ahh, the sweet, sweet smell of victory. It smells kinda like skittles. Or candy corn. Something sweet and sugary-two of my favorite things. You want to know another one of my favorite things? WINNING! Man, I sure do love to win, especially when I get to do my "I told you so" dance. It's a pretty good dance if I do say so myself. In fact, here's a picture:

Actually, that's a picture of me table dancing in Palo Alto, but it does bear remarkable similarities to my victory dance.

Man, if I had listened to that lawyer, I wouldn't be allowed to go to the K street mall! How tragic is that? Now not only can I go to the mall, but I cannot WAIT to come and meet my sister for lunch. Hmm, I wonder if they'll try and have security escort me out. That would be kind of awesome. I'm pretty sure they can't kick me out of the building though because the department shares building space with the bank and they have no authority to kick me out of the bank. They have no authority to kick me out of anywhere, that's why they lost! Their case wasn't even dismissed, it was DENIED. That means they didn't even get a chance to present their case because as far as the court was concerned, they didn't have one. HA! And they had more then one lawyer on this crack team of theirs. I'm so amused by this whole thing, really. I love that I got into people's heads like this. I'm like an earwig that burrows into your brain.

I can't believe my lawyer wanted me to settle for staying fifty feet away from those pathetic losers. I never even went back anyway, I only showed up once to pick up my stuff (and a Merry Christmas to all) and they act like I'm running around with kerosene and a match, trying to burn the place down. You know what, I think I'm going to name them all again, just because I can!! I am the winner, and that is what winners get to do-rub the losers' faces in it.

Well hello there, Gerri! Top of the morning to you, Linda! Howdy, Ken! You know I would never forget you-that would be like forgetting Paula! Hi guys! Aren't you glad you all decided to drag this restraining order nonsense out for as long as humanely possible, only to LOSE like the losers you are? How much time and money did you spend on all of this by the way? Wouldn't it have been nice to spend that time with your family instead? Or reading a book? Seems silly to waste all that time on ridiculous self-inflated court room drama. Personally, I would have liked to have used that time to take a cruise around the world. Or you know-getting better or something. I've had like six surgeries in two years-that's an average of one surgery every four months. And that doesn't count the infections (I swear, every time the cut me open, the doctor must sneeze on me or something) like the stupid bellybutton wound I have that's *finally* starting to fade. Not that it prevents me from wearing a bikini or anything-nothing could stop me from that! I was having a slight bathing suit conundrum the other day actually.

I have this really nice brown Guess bathing suit. It's super cute, with pink strinks and little rhinestones on the butt. It's really flattering, but really small. Not as in too small, just as in, there's not a whole lot of fabric. But man does it look good. I bought it at the Macy's in the downtown plaza almost four years ago. I had absolutely no need for a bathing suit, but one day I decided I wanted to go bikini shopping and I wanted to bring a friend.

A friend named Jason.

I was engaged at the time (is it just me, or am I always engaged?) to a guy named Arty. We'd been together for almost three years, and we were having some problems. One of the problems was that I was at the mall, shopping for bikini's with another guy. And I tried on a LOT of bikini's. Each time I would come out and do a little spin, or tug at the top and lean over making sure my body was in prime viewing position. I was flirting, what can I say? I don't know how many more years of being 5ft 6, and 115 pounds, with a solid C-cup bra size, I have before my face gets eaten by a mountain goat or something. It could happen! So I flaunt it while I've got it and man, was I working hard to flaunt it. Anyway, when I tried on this Guess bikini, it looked pretty good. I walked out of the dressing room and Jason's jaw hit the floor. No, really! There aren't many times in life where I've been like "Damn, I look good." and this was one of those times. And damn. I looked good. "Is it too small?" I asked. "Too huh?" he said. "Too small!" I laughed, "Is it too small?" "No," he said slowly "it's not too small at all. You look amazing." And in this tiny brown Guess suit, I felt pretty amazing. And that's what changed our relationship from being friends, to being more then that. It's not like I moved in the next day or anything, but still, there was an obvious shift in the air and it was because of this pretty little swimsuit. So when I pulled out my box of swimsuits the other day before we went out of town, I put that one back in. I don't know, maybe I just need to get it wet or something. Rinse the memories out of it. I'll try that next time. I ended up borrowing a blue and brown two piece from my sister-and I looked good enough to get hit on by the nineteen year old college baseball player who was chillin' in the hot tub. Christ, I don't even remember what nineteen feels like-and I never went to college. Plus it's nice to know that my surgical scars aren't so hideous as to stop guys from hitting on me. I didn't think they would be really, they're not that bad. I'm sure if I actually did something about them, they would fade away faster. But who cares? It's been ten years and I haven't done anything about my face, so I'm certainly not going to lose any sleep over my bellybutton.

Oh, and let me just give a big "thank you" to my sister. Should the police (or anyone) need to go through my computer they will find HUNDREDS of pictures of high definition cum shots. Yup, it's just not a cum shot if it's not in HD!! She had a good reason for defiling my computer though-she really needed to photo shop jizz on to some bitch's face. Some fat faced loser skank former friend of a friend (still with me?) is being a real whore bucket and what better way to make a slut look sluttier then by covering her in porn juice? But really, this chick was sleeping with her best friends boyfriend-IN HER BEST FRIENDS BED!! Are you kidding me? Dude, that's some serious fucked up shit right there. Something about the idea of sleeping with someone who slept with a friend of mine is kind of weird.

Ooh, new story time! I did actually sleep with one guy that a friend ended up sleeping with too. When I went down to visit my friend Rellers in Santa Cruz, there was a dude in her dorm that had seen a picture of me and thought I was cute, so I told her to introduce us. After the "hi, nice to meet you" stuff, we spent the rest of the night hooking up in his dorm room. He was a'ight I guess, but the thing I remember most is that the next morning he started working on this shirt he was making. Nothing wrong with making a shirt, lots of guys are designers, right? Okay, but see he was making a CHAIN METAL shirt out of like paperclips or something. He was one of those "goth-lite" guys and in the bright light of the morning, that can be *really* unattractive. I can't date a guy who wears a shirt made of paperclips!! I can't and I won't! So we hooked up (and he's always the one I forget about when I'm counting the people I had sex with-that's how unremarkable it was) and I went back to Sacramento. So a while after this, I want to say a few months later, Reller's calls me to tell me that she's got feelings for this guy and she wanted to know if it would bother me if she went out with him. No skin off my nose, I gave my blessing, but he turned out to be a major league asshole (holy shit, I think I just quoted George Bush!! My brain needs an acid bath!!). When he was dating my wonderful, awesome, gorgeous friend, he was hold up in his dorm room, hooking up with some fingernail chewing wack job. And he didn't even have the balls to come to the door when Rellers knocked! He just pretended he wasn't in there-hello, she can HEAR you, stupid! So she called me and asked what she should do and I said "well, give me his phone number and I'LL call him" So she gave me his number and I called-and he actually answered! Oh my god, I was SO PISSED. You should have heard me-in fact, I wish I had made a recording because I was just that goddamn good. I said "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but if you think I won't drive my ass down there and come introduce your face to the wall, you are one sorely mistaken fuck-head. Obviously you're not very good at reading women or you would have noticed that anytime I wanted *good* sex, I had to take matters into my own hands, but for some reason, my friend is attracted to losers with small dicks." I went on like that for a while-and he didn't hang up on me, which I thought was awesome. I told him if he did hang up on me, I would come right down, so I scared him away from doing that. Maybe he thought I would "do violence" too!! Ha! So yes, I've slept with the same guy as a friend of mine, and it was kind of funny to talk about it later and compare notes-yes girls do that. Sorry guys, but I promise you that at *least* one of your significant other's girlfriends knows exactly how big your penis is. Girls talk, man! We talk a LOT. I talk more then most, which is really saying something, I know. So yes, Rellers and I had more then one discussion about Will and his tiny, tiny* penis.

Speaking of tiny penis' (now there's a great segway-hi mom!), what happens when you have the opposite problem? I'm using the IUD for birth control these days, it's a little T-shaped device that gets implanted in your uterus and lasts for about five years. With the exception of the day that it was put in (it gave me really bad cramps) it hasn't given me any real problems. Except that you can apparently feel it while you're having sex with me! I mean, *I* can't feel it, but I'm not usually digging around up there, you know? So I asked my doctor about it, and surprise surprise, he's never heard of that-helpful, right? So he says that since it's only been in for about six months, it may take a little longer for it to adhere itself to my body, and until then, well...there's really not anything he can do other then to try removing it and putting it in a little higher. Unnecessary surgery? I'll pass, thanks. Plus, he can't guarantee that it will actually work. I mean, hey-I'll let guys know what I'm using for birth control ("An I 2 what?") and hope that no one gets bloody. Ew! Not a pleasant mental picture. Hmm, I wonder if I could use this to my advantage, perhaps as weaponry of some sort. "Barnum and Baily's Three Ring Extravaganza is proud to present...The Girl with the Steel-Pronged Vagina!". I could sell tickets...no pictures please! Heh. You know, I was just talking about my vagina the other day in the women's room. And no, that's not unusual for me, so don't ask. Some mother let her seven year old kid use the ladies room. Her seven year old MALE kid. Come on lady, are you freaking kidding me? I'm not saying you should let your kids wander away to god knows where, but this kid was at LEAST in the second grade. Way old enough to pee by himself. Stand outside the door of the men's room and wait if you're that worried about it. Or, here's a novel idea, take him to the family bathrooms! The Macy's had one-she was practically there! So this kid is running around playing in the sinks, touching all the soap dispensers, basically just being bratty, and I turn to my sister and say "Oh my God, I hate it when mothers let their kids run around the bathroom-especially boys who are old enough to use the BOYS room. You know what that makes me want to do sister? Talk about sex. And how much I like to let me boyfriend stick his dick in my vag. Oh, and did I mention I blew like ten guys the other night? One right after the other, you know how I do. It was a great night. Best 69 ever." And so on a so forth. My goal was to make this kid say something along the lines of "Mommy, when can I stick my dick in a girls vag?" or "How to you blow a man, mama?" I know, I know, I'm terrible, scarred the kid for life, blah, blah, blah. Next time take your kid to the men's room lady! This here is female speak!

*Okay, so it's not even the tiny penis that's a bad thing. It was his lack of ability to use it well. Another dude I hooked up with (*cough cough* Deric!) had a similar but different problem-he didn't HAVE a huge dick, he just WAS a huge dick. Heh. I wasn't really going anywhere with that story, I just wanted to say that. And now I have. :-)

She's alive!!

2010-03-24T14:39:00.000-07:00

Well, kinda anyway. I juts got out of the hospital AGAIN, the second time this month. Not only do I have endometriosis, I *also* have pelvic inflammatory diesease and BOTH of my ovaries are polycystic. Isn't that just fan-fucking-tastic. My reproductive organs are all shot to crap and yet I'm insanely fertile. Sigh. SIGH.

So that's my excuse for this two week leave of abscence. Last Thursday my mother and sister took me down to Palo ALto to meet with Dr. Nezhat, one of the best most amazing surgeons in his field. He helped pioneer laproscopic surgery and he'll be doing my next (and hopefully last) surgery for me in a few weeks here. I'm not excited about the surgery part, but the whole getting better thing does totally appeal to me. :-)

In other news, Jason and I have separated. I can't remember if I went over that already and I'm using my mothers computer (which is very old and very very slow) so I don't want to slow it down even more by going to re-read any of my other entries. I'm treading a kind of fine line with this whole thing actually. I'm torn in between using this blog for what I've always used it for-venting and free speech stuff-and using my blog to hurt people (shocking as this may sound) has never been my intent. But that's not really fair to me, is it? It's my blog and if I want to talk about dumping a watermelon malt cooler over the head of my now ex-fiance, I should be able to say whatever I damn well please. Heh. I do have a tendency to say whatever I want and I think I would be doing myself a disservice to start censoring my opinions now. That's just not who I am, man!

What else, what else...oh, Paula agreed to drop the restraining order and I agreed not to threaten her (keep doing what I've been doing? No sweat!). However, she is the only one who has wised up so far. The rest of the deluded bunch still seems to think that my saying I don't like them (them being Gerri, Ken, and Linda-hi guys!! Miss me?) will resort in some sort of stay away order. The State attorney keeps trying to barter down the distance they want me to stay away by. First it was like two hundred and fifty feet. Then two hundred. Then a hundred. Then fifty. How about I stay an arm's length away, hmm? How about that? Take it or leave it, either way it's my final offer. No way am I going to agree to staying away from that building! It's right across the street from the mall and my sister still freakin' works there! What if I want to come met her for lunch or something? Stupid ex-coworkers. I can't believe they're still wasting my time with this crap. Don't they have lives? Hobbies? Maybe a nice plant to water or something?

I think my painkillers are messing with my train of thought-or I guess it might have something to do with the fact that in the past three days, all I've had to eat is a couple of bites of sushi. Stupid scrambled non-functioning brain. Whatever the reason, it sure is annoying and it's making it very difficult for my sentences to come across as coherently as I would like. Okay, I guess my brain can't be that fucked up if I'm still using words like coherently.

You like pigs!

2010-03-11T16:55:00.000-08:00

In case you didn't already know, penguins are my favorite animal ever (even though they're birds and all other birds hate me). This penguin looks so neat! And tall. I'm into tall lately...

I wish you could pet penguins. They probably wouldn't like it though, most birds aren't big fans of being touched and I can't imagine that a wild penguin (is that right? Wild penguin? I can't imagine such a thing!) would want you anywhere near it's feathers. You know, the one and only time I ever seriously considered taking up knitting (for about thirty seconds) was when there was a big oil spill and the clean-up crew noticed that all the penguins had been covered in oil! Being penguins, they didn't realize that the oil was bad for them, so they would try to chew it off, then get sick from the toxic stuff. So the people in charge decided that the only thing they could do would be to knit tiny sweaters for the penguins! It would stop them from chewing and their feathers would eventually start molting (ew) and fall out, then they could go about their little penguin lives, all nice and snug in their sweaters. There was a pattern on the internet for you to follow and they encouraged bright colors and festive patterns! Still not enough to motivate me to knit though, even though a few of my friends do it and I'm sure they'd love to teach me. What I really would have loved is to have been one of the volunteers who got to put the sweaters on the penguins! That would have been awesome. How do you get that job? Do you have to be some sort of marine biologist or scientist or zoologist? That seems like a lot of education for dressing animals in tiny clothes. I wonder if you have to get shots before you interact with the penguins. Probably not. I think I'm thinking of the jungle. Anyway, here's my favorite picture of the day:

He's so rare! So rare that there isn't even any research about him because he's like one in a million. This guy was just hanging out in Antarctica, surrounded by a bunch of run of the mill penguins. I wonder if he feels a sense of superiority. He should! He's the best penguin I've ever seen-and I've seen a lot of penguins.

Speaking of penguins, our friend Marshall came by yesterday and told me this great story about these penguins that were watching this plane fly overhead. Every time it would go by, all the penguins would turn their heads in unison and follow it with their eyes. Finally, when the plane flew down a little *too* close, all the penguins leaned so far back that they fell on their backs!! Every single one of them ended up flat on the ground, staring at sky and looking for a plane. I would have loved to have seen that, but Marshall told the story so well that I felt like I was there. Plus, he also brought me a stuffed penguin, which I named Marshall, and which the kitty loves. I put him up on the table and sister's cat flipped out. She's been carrying him around all day. She keeps him next to her pig. Pigs, coincidentally, are my sisters favorite animal. If you ever want to get her anything with an animal on it, get her a nice pig. She's got pig stuffed animals, pig posters, pig figures, a pig calendar, and nice pink blocks that spell out "pig" in big letters. She wouldn't have all those things if she didn't love pigs. Got that? Sister=pig lover. Heh. She's probably not going to like that. :-)

That's all folks!

2010-03-10T17:59:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm not writing anything very long, but I *am* writing at least. I promised to write on Wednesday and I never break a promise to myself (HA! The first time I typed I never make a promise to myself). Sister just burned me an awesome cd which is great because I'm going to be living out of my car for the next few days. I'm not sleeping there or anything, but I'm definitely on the move.

And with that...

Let the countdown begin

2010-03-08T12:18:00.000-08:00

The bad news: I ended up being confined within the walls of the hospital these last three days.
The good news: My sister got me an appointment with a specialist in Palo Alto! Very exciting. I'm scheduled to be seen on March 19th. Mom, sister and I will be taking a, well I was going to say road trip, but that implies that the traveling part will be more amusing then it actually is. We're taking a journey down towards the south. Yeah, journey sounds better. So Palo Alto here I come!

Ugh, the last stay in the hospital was not exactly fun. It's official: All of the veins in my hands AND feet are completely blown out. Now when they have to give me an IV, which is *always* because I get super puke-y, that lovely visual combined with the fact that I weigh all of one hundred and ten pounds makes be get really dehydrated, really fast. As yet another example of why I love out health care system, when I was chillin' in the back of the ambulance, I started to feel like I was going to hurl. I told the ambulance dude sitting there that I thought I was going to be sick. He looked at me and went back to writing. Um, hello? Did you not hear me just say I'm about to puke? What the hell is wrong with you!! So then, of course, I puke and THEN he's all "Oh great, well here's a basin. Try not to thrown up on the floor again." What a douche! I wish I had puked right on his shoes but I was too out of it to aim that well. Then right when we got to the hospital, I started feeling really queasy again. Keep in mind that I haven't eaten anything for like four days. A few popsicles here and there, some tea, but nothing that could even come close to being described as substantial. So there's not exactly a lot left in my system for me to puke up in the first place! So I felt terrible and I started gagging and the same nice guy who reprimanded me for puking in the wrong spot, then told me to stop making my self sick. Huh?? What the hell are you talking about?? You just watch me puke all over the back of your ambulance. What kind of magic trick is that? Then I started coughing and spat out a hand full of blood-which was really just another slight of hand trick of mine. Induced vomiting and fake blood. That's me. I just really love going to hospitals and getting poked and prodded for a few hours. Plus I think the gowns are really sexy and there's no place I'd rather pee then in a cup. Sigh.

But anyhow, we're making a break for Palo Alto. My fingers are crossed!

It's like a blog, only with a v

2010-03-03T17:02:00.000-08:00

By the way, this totally counts as my Wednesday blog. :-)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OqGJq2K41KM

Special thanks to the Department of Corrections for paying the fourteen hundred and twenty dollar tab racked up by my former co-workers in an effort to shut down my blog. Good to know that there is plenty of money to waste on these things considering that the State of California is in enormous debt!! Man, am I ever faithful in our government right now. Such a shining example of all the hard work that department does, right? Two managers AND two attorneys spent the good part of three days working on this and I can practically guarantee that the wrote and printed their responses on State time (and dime-and now they've ruined rhyming for me!! Thanks a lot!)

This bitch rocks.

2010-03-02T13:18:00.000-08:00

For the record, this [see previous entry] (Smart people would be able to link my last blog entry with the word this, and the word this would be blue and underlined, and when you clicked on it, it would take you right to the entry. See, I know WHAT to do, I just have no idea how to ACTUALLY do it. But my intent is there. I should really take a class or read a book or something. Too bad I hate computers.) is how you have a disagreement. That last entry is missing it's final update, the one where Amanda sends me a friend request on facebook and a message about how cool it is that people can disagree and just be open to voicing opinions and whatnot. Two sides, two stories, two opinions, but NO restraining orders (Hear that Paula?*). Amanda is totally cool. However, being the technological failure that I am, I lost the message in cyber space. Whoops!! My bad! Anyway, Amanda is cool in my book. And my book is short. It's more like a list. Actually, it's more like a post-it. One of those little ones. :-)

*If Paula hadn't filed her restraining order, I would so have moved on to other things by now. As you can see (and she should have known!!) I am easily distracted. However, I don't care how dead this horse is, I MUST BEAT IT!! Beat it with sticks!! Beat it more!! (Oh my god, if *this* surfaces as a threat, my eyeballs will explode. I will melt. My brain will commit suicide and start quoting "Dukes of Hazard". Seriously, if you can't play with speech, and drop a good idiom every now and then, what good is that whole Constitution thing?? When a lawyer costs five hundred bucks an hour, free speech isn't so "free" after all.)

Wednesdays will be the day I blog, every week, for the next year (today's mini entry is a boredom motivated bonus). I figure if I actually write that down, I'm holding myself accountable for actually doing it. Besides, it's not like I'm so busy doing anything else at the moment.

Ciao!

Oh yeah? Well YOUR sister has fake tits!

2010-02-27T15:26:00.000-08:00

But you don't see me talking about that, now do you? ;-)

This is about food. Let's all focus, shall we?

Amanda Renae Biotechnology has led to many different strands of marijuana and is being used to make medical marijuana more potent. Canada is really into biotechnology and what it can do for pot. Should we stop that because biotechnology is bad?

6 hours ago · Comment · · View feedback (12)Hide feedback (12)

Robin Shofner

Why is biotechnology bad?

5 hours ago

Bobby Clack

you cant fight science. just go with it

5 hours ago

Amanda Renae

I don't think biotechnology is bad. That's kinda the point of this post. It's nice to hear both sides to an issue before making a decision...

5 hours ago

Robin Shofner

Agreed. I think that biotechnology can be absolutely amazing. But, there comes a point when something in me says "we shouldn't be screwing with nature like this.". For me that point comes when we attempt to make changes to humans for convenience or preference rather than for the sake of health.

5 hours ago

Candace Keefauver

Biotechnology is terrible all around. I only smoke organic medical grade marijuana and I recommend you do the same :)

3 hours ago ·

Candace Keefauver

Also when my medicine has been altered with biotechnology it contains a clearly written label explaining that it's genetically modified...
Currently foods that are made using GMO's are not labeled. As of March 3rd the USDA is not and will not be required to tell you if you are eating genetically modified foods.
Don't you want to know what you're eating?? I know you love high fructose corn syrup so maybe this concept doesn't bother you ;)

2 hours ago ·

Amanda Renae

No. It doesn't. Of all the horrible chemicals, radiation, and lifestyles humas have had for centuries, and yet we continue on. It's hilarious. Seriously, no matter what, EVERYTHING is bad for you. Whatever. Humans smoked and drank while preggers for hundreds of years and we continued on. In the middle ages people lived with their livestock and were surrounded by animal and human feces, yet we continued on. Before there were any government regulations on ANY food, food estblishments, and/or farming and we survived. Farmers used to use DDT and thousands of farmers and farm workers were exposed to it daily and we survived.
Shocking.
I don't buy organic foods because they're too damned expensive, nor was I raised on organic foods and I grew up eating meat from animals fed with growth horomones.
I'm a healthy, cancer free human.
OMG! It can't be!!
There are much bigger issues to be delt with rather than something that has an overall little effect on humans overall. There's actually not even enough scientific research that states whether or not biotechnology is bad for you. I'm sure years from now they'll say it is and so is coffee and so is TV and so is talking on a cell phone.
BLAH BLAH BLAH.
I personally hope I die before I reach an age of shitting myself in an Old Folks' Home.

2 hours ago

Candace Keefauver

"There are much bigger issues to be delt with rather than something that has an overall little effect on humans overall."
How can OUR FOOD SUPPLY have little effect on humans overall!?!
You know who ends up shitting themselves in an old folks home, right? The old SICK people. If you don't eventually start to pay attention to what you eat you will end up old and sick. I can practically guarantee it.

You're not even 30. I will bet dollars to delicious calorie filled donuts that you and your smoker of a husband will indeed have a future filled with doctor visits if you don't eventually start to consider what you're putting into your bodies.
All that weight you want to lose, where do you think it comes from?

The bottom line is that food is already so unhealthy that 2/3rds of americans are fat asses. We clearly need more healthy food choices.

Science says that organic food is healthier and most americans want to at least try and eat healthier. Companies like Monsanto make seeds that are so aggressive organic crops cannot survive near them. Which means organic farmers are losing their farms. Less organic farms means organic prices go up while the prices of GMO's drop.

So americans eat the modified food because it's cheaper. Just like we eat McDonalds because it's cheaper than farm raised home-cooked hamburger.

So you eat your McDonalds and I'll eat my over-priced organic farm raised turkey burgers and we'll see who ends up shitting themselves in the Old Folks home first. Deal?

about an hour ago ·

Amanda Renae

American's are fat asses because we eat too much high calorie, processed foods.
If I eat fat free cottage cheese from regular, hormone fed cows, ate lean regular, hormone fed chicken, and ate fruits and veggies grown with biotechnology, I'LL LOSE WEIGHT!
Whether your meat and produce are organic or not have NOTHING to do with if you'll get fat!
That's retarded!
How about this, I'll eat regular food (ie hormone meat and non-organic produce) and still be healthy while you and your sister eat up all that organic propaganda BS and you can tell me more about all the hospital vists your obviously unhealthy sister has to keep making....
Deal?
= )

about an hour ago

Amanda Renae

Biotechnology doesn't cause disease, bad breeding does...
It's in your genes. That's how thousands of people can smoke and live a long life with no cancer and some who never smoke get it. It's how some people can be exposed to asbestis and not get cancer and some do.
It's also how some people are more genetically inclined to be overweight and yet others are not and eat nothing but shit.
Jesus Christ. The answers are so simple. Just take a look at the history of the human race...

about an hour ago

Amanda Renae

American's have been eating this 'bad, horrible' food for years and years and years and years. It's amazing that our populations are at all time highs...
Maybe you should concentrate on something really unhealthy like processed foods because CLEARLY our livestock and produce is not a big, life threatening issue.

56 minutes ago

Candace Keefauver

You think smoking doesn't cause cancer, genetics do?! I literally cannot argue with that. Because it's insane.

I don't know why you would want to drag my "obviously unhealthy" sister into your bizarre ideas that unhealthy food doesn't make you unhealthy.
But ever since she has gone on an ALL ORGANIC DIET her symptoms have improved. No more processed foods or chemicals in her diet have improved her endometriosis substantially.

When food is refined is loses is nutritional value. Quaker Oats are missing the healthy benefits they are meant to have because they're rolled flat and processed so you can make them in 90seconds.

The history of the human race is that we have progressively gotten fatter as unhealthy foods become cheaper and cheaper and therefore the norm.

"Humans smoked and drank while preggers for hundreds of years and we continued on"

Good luck to your offspring. How fortunate for you that you don't suffer from severe endometriosis and YOU can have kids. Maybe if you had to suffer even a tenth of the pain my Sister has you would be a little more open minded about what you put in your body.

Humans have evolved throughout history. We know living in shit is bad, we know drinking and smoking while pregnant is bad. We know so much. Google this knowledge and evolve with us, won't you?

30 minutes ago ·

*******************************************************

LINDSEY Keefauver

Um, do I know you? For the record, I (Lindsey) would appreciate it if you kept my name out of your mouth. However, now that you've brought me into it, I'm happy to engage. :-)

It saddens me to think that you know so little about how what we put into our bodies can affect us, especially as it pertains to pregnancy. As someone who would love to be able to have kids, it's always a kick in the teeth to hear about a woman who has been so ill-advised as to think that drinking and smoking would have no affect on her unborn child. If and when you do decide to have kids, please look up fetal alcohol syndrome, and talk to your doctor about what smoking can do to you and your potential kid.

Beyond that, even if you're not knocked up, the food we put in to our bodies does make a big difference. Since I've changed the way I eat, I have seen a change in how I feel-I'm like proof or something! In the future, if you're going to reference me, it would probably help if you actually knew what you were talking about, huh? ;-)

If you wish to enjoy your Big Mac, then by all means, have at it. Personally, I'd rather spend more time preparing my organic chicken and less time in the Emergency Room.

If you wish to continue our discussion, feel free to visit me at my website: www.24yearsexperience.blogspot.com. As you will see, people just love to talk about me for some reason and I always enjoy a healthy debate-sometimes there's even a judge!! :-D

******************************************************
Well, at least I'm not talking about Paula. :-)

Restrain this!!

2010-02-24T22:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Paula*,

Thank you for your interest in my blog. Unfortunately (for you that is) saying that you don't like someone is NOT AGAINST THE LAW! Even though you may not like my opinion, that does not give you grounds to file a restraining order against me [a restraining order that was, of course, DENIED]!! For christsake lady, get over yourself! So I don't like you-big fat stinkin' deal! Have you never had someone *not* like you before? [Actually, I know for a fact that she hates hates HATES when people don't like her-she's always been an emotional wreck and she is beyond sensitive]. How exactly is my saying that you are "on my list" justify your claims that I have made threats that placed your husband and two kids in "imminent danger"? I'm sure widdle-bitty-kevi-poo can take care of himself just fine [she once sent a picture of him sitting in a giant chair, looking like a teeny little munchkin man, and entitled the e-mail "Widdle-bitty-kevi-poo". I swear to god, she really did. And she sent it to like everyone! There's ground for divorce right there. Public demasculinization.] I do not believe for one second that you really felt you were in any kind of danger. In the paperwork that YOU submitted for this ridiculous piece of garbage, you CLEARLY show that you were up at six o'clock in the morning on a furlough Friday, obsessively reading my blog. Even though you had the whole day off (and were already awake), and knew that you wouldn't be able to file papers over the weekend, you waited to file papers until that next Tuesday. AND (as yet another kick in the teeth) you took the whole morning off of work to go to the courthouse and file this nonsense! PLUS you went into my employee file, which you had NO RIGHT TO DO and got my PRIVATE home address so you could get started on wasting the nice judge's time.

So thanks again Paula, for giving me yet another thing to deal with when I am supposed to be getting better and (also thanks in part to you) looking for a job. In case you didn't notice, on the part of the restraining order where you requested that the fees be waived, they've denied your request for a fee waiver and initialed that you WILL be responsible for paying those fees. In my written declaration you will see that I'm requesting that the court uphold it's decision and require you to pay the full filing fee in an effort to discourage you from making these kinds of meaningless filings in the future. The fee for filing a restraining is three hundred and twenty dollars. Did you catch that? THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY DOLLARS!! You should pay every cent!! Have you never heard of fucking free speech? The first amendment? You know, those wonderful little values of ours that let me call a spade a spade (and a bitch a bitch). So fuck this shit motherfucker! And while you're at it, you can @$#*!% yourself! That's right, I can swear in symbols too! Maybe I'll swear at you in pig latin you at-fay oser-lay! Maybe I'll say bad things about you backwards: ttub stnahpele na ekil llems uoy. You can't seriously think that this will turn out well for you. You don't even know how to do this stuff! Maybe you've forgotten, but you used to ask me to help you write these things-and for good reason. Not everyone has a knack for translating thoughts into paper and people (like you) have terrible grammar nowadays. When you weren't surfing the net or having one of your many nervous breakdowns, you were asking for my help. [Except for note taking-my shorthand is non-existent and my handwriting sucks so she could kick my ass at taking notes for boring pointless meetings. Yay.]

While you're surfing the net, you should try watching the news. Janice Dickenson is all over the place talking about how you could land a place on Tyra Banks' forehead, and how Tyra's a huge fatty [sound familiar?] and how Janice originally thought she was a man. At least I'm not calling you a man, Paula!! And you sure were supportive of my big mouth when it was being directed at others, but now that you're on the receiving end you're finding you don't like it quite so much. Well that's just too damn bad! It's not like I'm just making up reasons to not like you. My reasoning is very simple. BEFORE things started getting ugly, BEFORE I realized you guys were going to screw me no matter what, BEFORE all that stuff happened, I called you THREE TIMES and said that I was freaking out, I didn't know what the heck was going on-I asked you to call me back-please!-to let me know what was going on. It's a good thing I wasn't holding my breath because I'd have been dead ten times over by now. You couldn't be bothered to just pick up the phone and call me. Or text me, or e-mail me, you had all of that info (apparently you had my address too!) and you never even bothered to try to tell me what was up. I don't expect you to quit your job because Ken and Linda are being jerks, or even to stand up and stay that they were being shady, but why would you not do anything at all-not even call me back? We were supposed to be friends-and I sure as hell would have called you! If you really don't think you did anything wrong, then fine. I'm certainly not going to talk myself blue in the face trying to make you see the error of your ways, however just the fact that you tried to take a subtle dig at my parenting skills by saying that you don't "burden [your] children with workplace issues/conflicts", shows that I'm right. If you didn't do anything wrong, and I'm just a friend at work who lost her job, through no fault of yours, then why would you not tell your kids? Where's the conflict? What's the problem? I'll tell you what the problem is. The problem is that you are a big fat jerk, and if I were as big of a jerk as you were, I wouldn't go bragging to my kids about it either. I don't have anything to hide from my kids because I didn't do anything wrong. I lost my job because I'm too sick to come back to work. I tried to call in sick but my lazy good for nothing (yet just smart enough to not attempt to file a ridiculous restraining order on me) space wasting supervisor was on vacation and I couldn't reach her, so I called my return to work coordinator. I brought in a letter from her, confirming our conversation, and phone records to show I called in (plus, how would I have known Linda was on vacation if I hadn't called in? Are you saying she wasn't on vacation? Come on, let's not add "lying" to the growing list of reasons why you're on my evil scary list.)

I don't like you and I you're just going to have to get used to it. If you're uncomfortable going to the kids school because you might see me, then by all means, stay at home. I promise no one will miss you!! And just to show yet another example of what a huge weenie you are (I'll admit it your honor-I *did* compare her to a hot dog. A ballpark frank to be precise.), I have seen you twice now at the school, just since the time you claimed I was "harassing" you, and did I approach you? Did I get violent and confrontational? Did you even SEE me?? No! You totally did not-you didn't even know I was there!! You have to grow up and get a thicker skin. If it would make you feel better, you can tell the world how I'm starting to resemble to female Edward James Olmos (or you may insert your own crater face joke here if you wish). You can say whatever you want and I promise not to get mad-unless you start lying about me and my awesomeness of course. Lies are not free speech. But otherwise, have at it! I'll never even know because I'm not a crazy obsessive psycho freak who gets up at six o'clock in the morning on my day off to start googling my ex-coworkers on the off chance that they're saying something mean about me. Get a life, lady! Bake a pie or something. Maybe paint a nice watercolor. Anything would be more productive then obsessing over my blog. Seriously, I am not even that cool for you to be worried about me and my big mouth. Worry about your own self.

And a good day to YOU sir.

Lindsey Keefauver

Blogger Extraordinaire

*She was probably hoping that I was going to let this whole thing drop, seeing as how I got this oh so special delivery on Sunday afternoon (after church-just another example of my horrible attitude. I'm such a heathen, right?) and I haven't been online to fire back yet. But I was ready on Sunday! I've spent these past few days trying to figure out how the heck to upload video from my webcam and I have yet to be successful. I've shot some good video but I can't get it up here!! Sigh. Anyway, since I can't get that going I guess I'll have to stick to good old fashioned blogging (for now, anyways). But this is really motivating me! I'm going to wrap this up and get back to my attempts at vlogging. My first video is called "Paula Jones-Peter's complete social security number, home address, and mothers maiden name". Stay tuned!!

Now how do I turn it OFF?

2010-02-17T08:45:00.000-08:00

You know, it's hard to update my blog when I can't get my computer to turn on. Yup, that's what's been silencing me this week, my complete ineptitude at technology. Not only do I stink at computers (I can barely check my e-mail), but now I can't even get them to turn on!! Sigh. Thank goodness for Jason, the technological genius. It turns out the outlet I was plugging my computer into didn't work. Who'd a thunk it? Not me, that's for sure! But I'm up and running again which is especially fantastic because the people I used to work with found my blog! How great is that?? Now everyone gets to read about their weight problems on the internet. Here's the thing about me: I do not have sympathy for overweight people. I know Kevin Smith is all up and arms about getting thrown off of Southwest airlines for being a fatty fatty two by four, but let's be realistic here! Had Kevin Smith been permitted to board and take his seat, would he have been squashing the person who had to pay for the privilege of sitting next to him? If the answer is yes (and I think it is) then he needed to get off (there's a "fat people getting off joke" waiting to happen-ew). Sorry, but don't be so huge! And then Kevin Smith (who, for the record, I like) went on to say that "this is America...build bigger fucking seats!" Um, excuse me? Being fat isn't a health epidemic, it's a preventable problem. Stop eating, and you'll fit in the seats just fine. I certainly shouldn't have to be crammed into the seat next to you, bumping elbows with your sweaty rolls of fat. We shouldn't be accommodating people's obesity, that's sick. You know what else goes hand in hand with being fat-diabetes. We accommodate the fat by giving them sugar free cookies on their flight-provided they're allowed to board, of course. Isn't that enough?? Sheesh. This is usually the point in my rant where people start thinking "Well, easy for her to say this stuff, she's skinny and probably never had to diet a day in her life." Well let me tell you right now, that's a load of shit. For almost two months now, I have been on my super hardcore, no gluten, no sugar, no dairy diet and I can honestly say that dieting is a breeze. Sorry Linda, Paula, Gerri, all you lazy good for nothing wastes of space, you can add "effortlessly thin" to the growing list of reasons why you despise me. Changing the way I eat was necessary for my health-no food is so delicious that it's worth being in the hospital. That makes it easy. Besides, a lot of healthy foods are the most delicious anyway. Frozen pineapple? Yum!! Gluten free chicken tacos? Tasty! It's all good man. No sweat. So let's all put the donuts down and back away slowly...

People nowadays are HUGE! Enormous! Just look at all the Two Ton Tessie's I used to work with! Linda is at that weight where you can tell it's becoming a struggle for her to stand up. You know, where you really have to think about what you should do when you're up because it'll take you a while to motivate yourself enough to heave your massive bulk up and out of your chair. Someone was telling me the other day that making fun of people and their weight is like taking a cheap shot. You know what else is a cheap shot? Firing someone on Christmas Eve. There's a real low blow. So suck it fatties-you go to hell! Besides, anyone is more then welcome to take as many shots at me as they like. I'll even get them started-I'm a pockmarked pepperoni pizza face! It's true, the beauty you see is simply smoke and mirrors. I had really terrible skin growing up and sadly, it never did get totally better. My bottom teeth are also crooked, and I have a really frizzy patch of hair growing out of the left side of my head. Oh! And one of my boobs is slightly bigger then the other one. And my hands are the size of a five year old's. And my toes! My toenails grow really funny and square. And I am FOREVER cracking my jaw. That always makes a really pretty sound. Probably easiest to make fun of my face though, that's the money shot. Of course, there's one important difference between me and the middle aged losers I used to work with. I don't give a fuck! I *especially* don't give a fuck when it comes to them. Why would I care what a bunch of fat losers think of me? In fact, I WANT some people to hate me. For example, when you google my name (like the people at my old work obviously did in order to stumble into my blogosphere) I come up on a pro-life website, courtesy of one Gingi Edmonds. Anyone remember her? She's the psycho path who insisted that Obama had killer baby farms. She also said some nonsense about Planned Parenthood protecting rapists. She and I had words (well, I had words, she had letters arranged into simplistic patterns) and like the rest, she eventually came to her senses and decided to leave the crusading to the big girls. I think I had a point when I started this diatribe...oh yeah! My point is, there are certain people that you don't want to have like you. If some pro-life freak show hates me, then I'm obviously doing something right. I want the pro-lifers to hate me, I want to homophobics to fear me, and I want the fat to despise me! The last one is easy, all fat women hate skinny girls, thus Linda's deep rooted hatred for me. She really has some issues with me. It's freaky how much energy she focuses on disliking me (kinda like all the time I spend talking about how much of a porker she is). Of course she has a job so one would think she has better things to do. Not me! You know what I have to do today? This! I'm doing it right now! Besides, I think I may have figured out where some of that hate comes from. She's pissed that I'm such an awesome mom. See, Linda had her kids taken away from her and raised by her ex husband and his new wife. I've been through the court system many times over and a women getting her kids taken away? You have to be a serious fuck up for that to happen. Maybe her husband left her for someone who could still see her feet. Or someone who was capable of doing more then staring at a computer screen all day, surfing the net for candy bar coupons. And how can you call yourself a mother when you don't raise your own kids? Can you even call them your kids if another woman is doing your job and raising them for you? That's no mother, in my opinion. That's a good old fashioned egg donor. I think that's part of the reason she was such a bitch; I'm a great stepmom with kids who love me and she's...Linda. But really, I'm sure her kids love her, even if they don't think of her as mom. They are always asking her for money...money and love are the same, right? For Linda's sake, I sure hope so. :-)

Okay, this blog has become a little centered around Linda and believe it or not, that's not was I was going for. Actually, I think I need to focus on calling out Gerri Vilhaur, she's a lawyer (or so she claims) so it would be extra hilarious to watch her foam at the mouth when I start getting on her. Free speech is great isn't it? I can call her a big mouthed cunt-bucket and there's nothing she can do about it! Cunt-bucket, isn't that hilarious? I'm afraid I can't take credit for that lovely piece of imagery-I got it from the novel Push. It's got a nice ring to it, don't you think? Like skank-ball. Or bitch mouth. That's a classic. So take your pick-or select all three! My goal is to call Gerri something so ridiculous that she would look even more moronic then usual if she complained. Gerri is a big smelly butt-faced miscreant. That's right, I called you a butt-faced miscreant, you butt-faced miscreant! Ha! I'm gonna buy you a pipe, just so you can shove that in and smoke it! Heh. It is endlessly amusing to me that nobody has anything better to do then sit around and read all the mean things I'm saying about them. How do I know for certain that my old work crew has found me here in cyberspace? Well, last Wednesday when I posted the first blog about me losing my job, my profile had about 870 hits. When I checked on Thursday morning, that number had gone up to 950!! Eighty hits in one night? That can't be a coincidence-there was definitely someone looking at my blog obsessively, and it must have been someone I was writing about. Why else would anyone care so much about what I have to say? I mean, *I* think I'm kind of awesome, but for some reason it's taking the rest of the world a little while to catch on.

Alright I'm signing out now; time to update my OTHER website. Just something else for those losers from Corrections to stare at obsessively.

P.S. Kenneth Ray Martin, you got off easy this time because you're not as tempted by calorie-laden breakfast pizza as the rest of your crack team. You're still an arrogant, narcissistic, overpaid, pompous, incompetent asshole, but to your credit, you are not a fatty.

Yet.

YOU'RE fired!!

2010-02-10T16:23:00.000-08:00

Oh wait, I'm fired. Right, right.

I got fired*!! Can you believe that? They ignored my phone records showing that I called in sick, disregarded my doctor's note extending my leave of absence and threw out all my nicely packaged evidence. And there were a million phone numbers that had to be blacked out on my phone records-that's two hours of my life I'll never get back. And for nothing! There was no way I could have won and I SWEAR I'm not just saying that because I lost; one of the conditions of winning would be me proving that I'm "ready, willing, and able to return to work." However, my doctor hasn't released me to full time duty and even though they had my request for reasonable accommodation, they never made any *actual* plans to accommodate me, therefore I would have to work my full forty hours a week or else I "fail to establish my willingness to return to work". It's such crap; they basically fired me for being sick-isn't there some sort of law against that? Jeez. Though technically I wasn't fired for being absent, I "resigned" for "personal reasons". Sounds better, sort of (I guess). Not really! I still can't believe those bastards fired me-I really can't. I mean, who the fuck do they think they are?? Do they really think I'm going to take this shit from them? Hell to the naw. I may not work there anymore, but they certainly haven't seen the last of me. This is completely unacceptable and will not be tolerated. The following people are officially on my list:

Kenneth Ray Martin
Linda J. Jennings
Gerri Vilhaur
Paula Jones-Peter

You are all going down, you hear me??!! Mwahahahaha!!! I am unstoppable! I mean seriously what are they going to do, fire me? Heh. Thanks to them, I've got nothing but time on my hands! Free time and access to the internet; that's a dangerous combination of things for me to have-especially when I'm pissed off. And I am PISSED OFF!

Argh. Admittedly, this gives me an opportunity that not many people get. I've been working for the state for five years and I always figured that's just what I'd do until I retired. Well now, I can do something else. Maybe I'll go into the field of law (thanks Rellers!), or maybe I'll get my teaching license. Ooh, or I could join the circus! Yeah, that's what I'll do-think of all the free peanuts!! Okay, so maybe not the circus (I don't like peanuts anyway), but I can do something. Maybe I'll become a Drug and Alcohol counselor; I've toyed with that idea in the past. Of course, I can no longer work for the department of corrections EVER IN MY WHOLE LIFE so I would need to rehabilitate people elsewhere. Fine by me-if they don't want me, I'm certainly not going to shove myself down their collective throats. I am awesome and there are tons of places that would be lucky to get me (she said modestly). So there! Take your stupid crappy job and shove it!!

God, stupid fat Linda was there, waiting in the reception area. She of COURSE did not have the guts to go to the ACTUAL hearing-she just didn't have any real work to do so she came to sit at reception for an hour and a half. Though in all fairness, just the fact that she's still able to walk unassisted is remarkable, given that she's borderline obese. She is! If she went to a doctor, they would tell her the same thing-eat a salad, fatty! There's a group for that on myspace; it's called eat a salad, fatty [I would know-it's my group]! I have no sympathy for fat people-sorry Paula, that includes you to. And Kandie Smith, we can put her on the list too. Pretty much everyone except for my sister goes on that list. Corrections is full of fatties-it's because no one has an real work to do so they stand around eating, like cows. Ha! Cows! Anyway, Linda was SUCH A WEENIE!! Trying to avoid me is so high school-of course many people would say the same about this here blog. :-)

I don't care what anyone else says. This is my blog, for me. I write for me, not for anyone else. The reason I keep this blog is because I have something to say and my handwriting is terrible. This is mine, for me, and I could give a flying fuck about who else sees it. Now that we've cleared that up...

My former boss, Kenneth Ray Martin sent me a sexually suggestive e-mail [down at the bottom-I'm no liar!]!! Apparently it was okay for him to send it because he's gay. Did you know that being gay made you exempt from the law? Apparently sexual orientation can be used for justifying inappropriate behavior. Who knew? So since it's not a big deal for him to send that message, then I guess it wouldn't be a big deal for me to pass out copies to the rest of the department, right? I'm sure HIS boss will be totally fine with him sexually harassing his employees, because he's gay and I'm a girl. I guess that makes it okay, doesn't it. Except it's not okay and it never will be! I don't care if you're gay, straight, or both on Tuesdays, you do not get to talk about my boobs!! Yes, they're very nice, but that's not for you to comment on, you perv! Super-perv! In fact, I'm going to post your name again KENNETH RAY MARTIN, and hopefully when people google you KENNETH RAY MARTIN, they will see what a pervy-perv you are. And there's nothing you can do about it KENNETH RAY MARTIN because it's YOUR e-mail-you sent it! Bet you're regretting that now, huh? Happy birthday indeed. :-)

Now, if you all will excuse me, I need to find a job.

*On the not so sucky side, the judge told me several times that I had done an excellent job presenting myself and that she has seen many people in her courtroom that are older than I am and not half as well prepared. And I totally cited a case from memory-apparently that was rather impressive. So the judge thought I did a great job. Wonderful! That and a nickel will get me a cup of coffee. (That saying really needs to be updated to reflect the current economy. Coffee is freaking three dollars a cup now.)

Oh and for the record, KENNETH RAY MARTIN was convicted of conspiracy to distribute methamphetamine and possession with intent to distribute. I'm just saying.

************************************************

From: Martin, Kenneth
Sent: Friday, October 31, 2008 11:48 AM
To: Keefauver, Lindsey
Subject: HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRLLLLLLLLL

Now your trainings can come off and you can get it on……

Kenneth Ray Martin

Health Care Manager (A)

Deuel Vocational Instititution

Tracy, CA 95378

PO BOX 400

Office: 209-830-3882

Blackberry: 916-799-5946

*****************************

Boo!

2010-02-09T10:26:00.000-08:00

Stupid blogger, messing with my posts... why is my latest entry posting at January 30 instead of now? Sigh. Well, for anyone who's interested, there is now a new journal entry for January 30.

Between a hot dog and a tall guy*

2010-02-05T11:40:00.000-08:00

Mmmm.....hotdogs.....

I used to like the idea of going down to LA and getting my sing on with the thousands of other folks who want to be idolized. One of the best times I've ever had was when Sister and I took a road trip to LA so she could try out for America's Next Top Model. (Man, those people were idiots. My sister looks just like Uma Thurman-she's practically her doppelganger!)But even though she didn't make it, we had a blast. We stayed in a youth hostel, went to the beach, got some tattoos, it was great! But seeing how many people are crammed into those stadiums makes me change my mind-the idea of being in a crowd that big with all those people makes me dizzy. I HATE when people touch me (especially people I don't know), so the thought of rubbing elbows with the masses does not appeal to me. Plus, it's not just one audition-you have to sing for a whole bunch of producers before they let you anywhere near the judges. And, if they do decide to let you in to the real audition room, you have to hang around for a few days and come back. That's why the judge's are wearing different outfits sometimes during judging. Plus, you have to practically sign your life away. Before American Idol Season 1, I looked up the audition requirements and the one thing that really detered me was having to consent to them being able to use my image, name, likeness, EVERYTHING and I would have no say, nor would I be compensated in anyway. So that's what stopped me then. What stops me now are those huge crowds I mentioned. Plus, just think for a minute and imagine what the traffic would be like to get into the stadium with thirteen thousand other people. There's an unpleasant thought. But I suppose it doesn't really matter now. This is Simon's last year judging and they lost all their credibility as a legitimate singing show the second the hired Ellen Degeneres as a judge. Refresh my memory; what was her cd called? Surely she has vast musical knowledge, you know like...Avril Lavigne! Now there's another respectable artist. Sigh. Oh! And guess who is rumored to be replacing Simon Cowell....drum roll please...Howard Stern. That's right; HOWARD STERN!! Can you believe that crap! I wouldn't touch Howard Stern with a ten foot pole if I was wearing a bio-hazard suit. I don't know how his wife can look at that man naked and not projectile vomit. There is absolutely nothing about that man that I like. He gets paid A hundred million dollars a year for getting college girls drunk and convincing them to take off their tops and wrestle in a pool of mustard (okay, so maybe they didn't do that exactly, but I refuse to look up anything about Howard Stern. If I ever get arrested and the take my laptop, I don't want anyone to think I ever wanted to know anything about him. Same with Rachel Ray.) And Howard Stern's wife was pretty! (Of course.) How can women do that? Like the girls that sleep with Hugh Heffner. The man is in his eighties and the girls he hangs around with are young enough to be not just his granddaughters, but his GREAT-granddaughters. Creepy!! He's banging some 18 year old twins nowadays-yick. God, what if those were your daughters. Would you tell people? I would-people will find out anyways, you might as well pretend you're proud of it. Okay, maybe not *proud* but at least okay with it. And really, is it that bad? While I do NOT like the sleeping with an old man thing, the taking nudie pictures thing isn't that big of a deal. It's not like you're having sex with guys or even letting them touch you. Personally, I wouldn't release nude pictures because I fear photo shop-once people have your image, they can do anything they want to it. Before you know it, I'm a three hundred pound cross-eyed blind girl! But if other chicks want to pose for Playbot, then that's their business. At least they're working-California's unemployment rate is about twelve percent right now. Maybe that's why more people then ever tried out for American Idol his year. Everyone's unemployed and they want to become famous superstars. Well, I hate to break it to everyone, but American Idol as we knew it is no more. It has been perverted beyond the point of recognition and we can only him that with his ultimate departure, Simon Cowell will do for the X-Factor, what he had done with American Idol. God speed Mr. Cowell; God speed.

P.S. Take Ryan with you!!

*The producers like to stagger the talent with the talent-less. So sometimes you'll see a little cluster of really great singers going in one after the other, then you'll see a group of obvious losers-the guy in the chicken suit, the girl dressed like the Statue of Liberty, a guy who doesn't speak English, and so on and so forth. What would you do if you found yourself amongst a group of losers? You look to your right and see a guy in a bikini. You look to your left and find yourself face to face with Larry Pratt (with his pants on the ground). Sigh. You might as well just leave-I guarantee if you stick around, you will NOT like how you look on tv later. It won't be pretty. Of course, going after someone who's too good could also be disastrous. I would hate to have been the one to walk in after Kelly Clarkson! There's a nightmarish thought...how the hell do you compare to that?? (Did you know that top she was wearing was actually a pair of her old jeans that she ripped up and sewed back together?)

Working hard (or hardly working)?

2010-02-03T10:02:00.001-08:00

This blog could be a lot longer but I'm doing about fifty thousand things at once right now. Now, as most of you all ready know, I was rather unceremoniously fired from my state job just this last Christmas Eve. I've worked for the state for FIVE YEARS and this is what I get? Cast aside on Christmas Eve-Scrooge's, the lot of 'em! Anyway, I'm appealing their moronic decision (obviously) and in my preparations I'm familiarizing myself with some previous cases that have come before DPA (that's the Department of Personnel Administration for those not familiar with the acronym). I had to read through like a dozen before I even found a guy who won and oh my god! I thought MY work people were evil, but this guy's supervisor fired him knowing that his mom had just DIED(!), his 98 year old dad was in the hospital and he (the employee) had MALARIA (did I mention he was halfway across the world in Nigeria and he was an hour and a half away from the nearest phone??!!!). Here, read on:

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The appellant was on approved leave from August 4 through August 27. He was scheduled to return to work on August 28.

Appellant went to Igero, Nigeria during his leave. Igero is a village of 8,000 to 10,000 people. It does not have reliable cell phone communication, telephones, or fax machines. The appellant did not have access to a telephone or a fax machine in Igero. To use a telephone or a fax machine, the appellant had to travel approximately 1.5 hours to Ado, Nigeria, the nearest community with potential communication abilities. There is a small hospital in Igero that consists of approximately 12 rooms. The hospital does not have a fax machine. Although Nigeria was the appellant’s childhood home, he had not been there for approximately 14 years.

Just before appellant’s vacation was scheduled to begin, his mother died. Appellant adjusted his original vacation request and traveled to Igero to attend his mother’s three day funeral. Shortly after his mother’s funeral, his 98-year-old father was admitted to the Igero hospital. Appellant’s father was diagnosed as having congestive heart failure. Appellant’s father was discharged from the hospital after four days. On August 21, the father’s doctor gave the appellant an “Excused Duty Certificate.” The Certificate excused him from work for two weeks, until September 4. The doctor recommended appellant spend time with his father. Appellant viewed his father’s prognosis as uncertain and on a “day-to-day” basis. The appellant intended to assume the care of his father while he was in Igero.

Appellant began feeling sick on August 21. He was worse on August 22 and went to the doctor. The doctor gave him some medication and told him to rest. Appellant did not rest on August 23. He felt worse. He returned to the doctor on August 24. By this time he was vomiting, weak, had a rash, and blister(s). The doctor diagnosed him with malaria. Appellant was bedridden on August 24, 25, and 26.

Appellant was originally scheduled to leave Igero to return to California on August 26. On or about August 25 he realized he would not be able to return on August 26. On August 25, his brother traveled to Ado to call the airlines for an alternative flight. The next available flight was on September 6.

Appellant was driven to Ado on Sunday, August 27. He called his supervisor on Monday, August 28, the day he was supposed to return from vacation. According to the appellant, he reported he was ill, his father had been hospitalized, and the soonest he could leave Nigeria was September 6. According to the supervisor, the appellant only reported his father was ill and did not mention his own medical condition. Also according to the supervisor, the appellant reported he would be at work on September 6.

During the August 28 conversation, the supervisor told the appellant he needed to fax in medical verification of his need to be absent and he also needed to bring copies of the medical documentation when he returned to work. The supervisor told the appellant if he did not fax in the documentation, he would be considered AWOL (absent without leave). It was undisputed the appellant told his supervisor during the August 28 conversation that he may have difficulty faxing her the information because communications were unreliable. The supervisor told the appellant it was very important that he fax the information and said something to the effect that he should “try to fax them in.”

Appellant returned to Igero on August 28 and went to the doctor to obtain the medical information required by his supervisor. The doctor told the appellant he would send someone to Ado to fax the medical information to the supervisor. Appellant did not communicate with his supervisor after August 28.

Appellant went back to the doctor on September 4. He had recuperated from his illness and was discharged from subsequent care. Appellant asked his doctor if the fax had been sent. The doctor indicated he had sent someone to Ado to fax the documentation but he was unsure if it “went through.”

Respondent did not receive faxed medical information covering appellant’s absence beginning August 28. Respondent mailed appellant’s notice of automatic resignation on September 7.

Appellant departed Nigeria on September 6 and arrived in California in the evening on September 7. Appellant reported to work on September 8. He brought the medical documentation of his illness and that of his father as requested by his supervisor. He also brought documentation of his travel dates.

A second supervisor who had not previously communicated with the appellant about his absence, told the appellant he was to go home. Appellant attempted to show his documentation to the second supervisor, but she had been instructed to send the appellant home and therefore she did not want to review the documentation.

*************************************

Don't worry, the story ends well-he gets his job back. But he doesn't get back pay, so he still got screwed. Can you believe those people?? I was thinking about saying something nice about my bosses not being THAT bad, but I still want them to burn in hell so they'll need to look elsewhere for their redemption. Sorry folks, we're fresh out of forgiveness here. Can I interest you in some nice juicy insults? We've got plenty of those!

And on the flip side of the poor Nigerian dude, we have this guy-I've purple-ized my favorite portions for your reading pleasure:

**********************************

II - CAUSE FOR APPEAL

Appellant contended he had a valid reason for being absent, a valid reason for not obtaining leave, and that he was ready, able and willing to return to work. Appellant further contended that he was confused and hampered by the fact English was his second language.

III - REASON FOR BEING ABSENT

Appellant testified there were a variety of reasons he was absent from work from April 11 through April 27.

Appellant lived with his mother. He had an argument with his mother on April 10. She threw him out of the house and he was homeless for some unspecified portion of time between April 10 through April 27. He intermittently slept in his car and stayed with a cousin and with his sister. He testified he was unable to work because he was looking for a place to live.

Appellant’s father died on December 13, 2004. [Ed. note-This was in 2006] He testified he was still recovering from this loss. Appellant is a member of the Hindu religion. He went to the temple for assistance in resolving his family issues and to help him reconcile with the death of his father. He violated one of his religious beliefs that dictates he could not eat beef. He was required to spend two days cleansing himself. He argued he could not work because he was seeking spiritual help to resolve his family issues and to pray for forgiveness of his violation.

Appellant felt he was “overloaded” with work in April 2006. He testified he “lost his focus” during that period and had no interest in working with people who were “part of his job.” [Ed. note-Who does?]

Appellant also testified he did not go back to work because he had been instructed to bring a doctor’s note excusing his absence and he did not have such a note.

IV - REASON FOR NOT OBTAINING LEAVE

Appellant provided a variety of reasons for not obtaining leave.

He argued he thought he had been granted leave. Appellant was supervised by three different supervisors under a program that was referred to as “cooperative supervision”. He could call any one of three supervisors to report his absence or request leave.

Appellant called a supervisor on April 10 to report he would not be at work because he was having back pain and to report he had gone to a chiropractor. The appellant was instructed to bring a note from the chiropractor when he returned to work.

Appellant called the same supervisor on April 11 at approximately 9:30 a.m. He reported he had been kicked out of his mother’s house and had slept in his car, but that he would attempt to come into the office later. The supervisor advised the appellant to call back to inform her whether or not he was coming to work. Appellant did not call back and did not report to work.

Appellant did not report to work or call to report his absence on April 12 or 13.

On April 14, the appellant called the same supervisor he had spoken to on April 10 and 11 to see if there was a check for him. There was no discussion with this supervisor of why appellant had not called to report his absence or why he had not reported to work.

According to the appellant, he went into the office on April 14 or 15 to pick up a check. He explained his homeless situation to a second supervisor and told her he needed “two or three days off.” According to the appellant, the supervisor said “okay.”

The appellant did not report to work and he did not call to report his absences at any time between April 17 and April 28. He did call on April 18 to again inquire about a check. He was informed by a supervisor other than the one he believed had approved his leave on April 14 or 15, that because he had not called in or provided any further explanation for his absences, an action was pending for his separation from State service.

Respondent mailed its notice of automatic resignation to appellant on or about April 28.

Appellant testified he understood his supervisor’s “ok” during the August 14 or 15 conversation to mean he was on an indefinite leave and did not have to call in or return to work until his supervisor called him to tell him he had to return. He believed this conversation shifted the responsibility for ensuring he came to work to his supervisor.

Appellant alternatively testified he knew he could not comply with DMV’s policy to obtain leave so he stopped reporting his absence. He testified DMV’s policy required an employee who had been absent for three (3) days to provide a doctor’s note. Appellant did not go to the doctor during the relevant period so he did not have the required doctor’s note substantiating his absence.

Appellant also testified he quit attempting to comply with any requirements to obtain leave because he had been notified he was being automatically resigned.

Appellant also argued he was confused about his situation, the types of leave available to him, and the requirements to obtain leave because English was his second language.

V - READY, ABLE AND WILLING

Appellant testified he is ready, able, and willing to return to work. He testified his family situation is more stable, and he has a place to live and a car. He also testified he was more motivated to perform his job now because he needs the money.

PURSUANT TO THE FOREGOING FINDINGS OF FACT THE ALJ MAKES THE FOLLOWING DETERMINATION OF ISSUES:

Government Code section 19996.2 provides an automatically separated employee with the right to file an appeal for reinstatement with the DPA. Section 19996.2 also provides:

“Reinstatement may be granted only if the employee makes a satisfactory explanation to the department [DPA] as to the cause of his or her absence and his or her failure to obtain leave therefor, and the department finds that he or she is ready, able, and willing to resume the discharge of the duties of his or her position or, if not, that he or she has obtained the consent of his or her appointing power to a leave of absence to commence upon reinstatement.”

Pursuant to Coleman v. Department of Personnel Administration (1991) 52 Cal.3d 1102, the Court held that an employee terminated under the automatic resignation provision of Section 19996.2, has a right to a hearing to examine whether he had a valid excuse for being absent, whether he had a valid reason for not obtaining leave and whether he is ready, able, and willing to return to work. DPA is not charged with examining whether the appointing power acted properly with regards to the actual termination. Further, appellant has the burden of proof in these matters and must prove by a preponderance of the evidence that he had a valid excuse for his absence and failure to obtain leave and that he is currently able to return to work.

Appellant failed to provide a valid reason for being absent. There was no evidence appellant was homeless from April 11 through April 28 and needed this entire period to find a place to live. There was no evidence he was medically unable to work during this period. There was no evidence his presence was required at the temple for the 8 hours he would have spent at work from April 11 through April 28. Appellant chose not to come to work during the period of April 11 through April 28.

Appellant failed to prove by a preponderance of the evidence he had a valid reason for not obtaining leave. His argument he was granted leave based on an April 14 or 15 conversation with a supervisor was unsubstantiated. Appellant’s testimony regarding his discussion with a supervisor who allegedly approved leave for two or three days was unclear and imprecise. He could not recall what day he spoke with the supervisor; it was unclear if the supervisor allegedly granted leave for two days or three days; and it was unclear if the leave that was allegedly approved was for days the appellant had already been absent or for additional days of absence. There was no indication the appellant sought clarification of the supervisor’s remarks. The supervisor was not called to testify.

Appellant’s belief that the generalized conversation he allegedly had with the supervisor regarding “two or three days off” meant that he was forever relieved of his responsibility to report his absences or report to work until his supervisor contacted him was unreasonable and incredible. The appellant knew he was not exempt from all attendance requirements. He knew he was expected to bring a doctor’s note to substantiate his absence. Appellant voluntarily chose not to go to the doctor to obtain the required documentation. He chose not to obtain permission to be absent.

Appellant’s argument that he quit taking steps to obtain leave because he had been notified he was separated from service is without merit. Appellant was not notified he was being automatically resigned until after April 28, well after his last contact with respondent on April 18. Moreover, the appellant also testified he didn’t call to report his absence because at one point he had no interest in returning to DMV.

Appellant’s argument that he was hampered in his ability to obtain leave because English is his second language is also without merit. Appellant worked for respondent for over six years. During this time, he understood English well enough to be a productive employee who earned many accolades and satisfactory job performance appraisals in 2005. He also demonstrated he understood the attendance requirements well enough to improve his attendance in the past.

Appellant failed to prove he had a valid reason for not obtaining leave.

Because the appellant failed to prove he had a valid reason for being absent and a valid reason for not obtaining leave, it is unnecessary to determine if he is ready, able, and willing to return to work.

WHEREFORE IT IS DETERMINED

that the appeal for reinstatement after automatic resignation from the position of Service Assistant (DMV Operations) effective May 15, 2006, is denied.

****************************************

Can you believe that guy?? He worked there for SIX YEARS and then pretended he couldn't speak English. Are you kidding me? That's like the episode of Cops where some skinny gringa got pinched by one of the boys in blue and when they searched her, the found a crack pipe (and crack!) in her pocket. You know what she said? "These aren't my pants." Really? That's your whole argument? That's what's going to keep you out of jail, claiming that you're wearing someone else's pants? Even if they weren't your pants (liar!) you're still responisble for what's in the pockets! I'm sorry, did you not notice the TEN INCH CRACK PIPE JABBING YOU IN THE THIGH?? Okay, it wasn't ten inches, but it was big-and she was carrying a lot of crack!! That reminds me of a great episode I once saw of the People's Court. I don't remember the exact circumstances, but there was this scrawny little weasel man lying through his teeth about owing his ex-girlfriend money. She had a signed I.O.U. from him. "That's not my signature" he says. So the judge compares it to his driver's license signature-they match. The girl gives the judge e-mails from him. "That's not my e-mail address" he says. So the judge looks through papers he filed and sure enough, he's using the same e-mail address. Finally, the crue de ta (however the hell you spell that-what am I, French?) was when the girl played a voice mail that he had left her. "That's not my voice" he says. Dude! You're kidding, right? You are SUCH a liar!! That's your signature, that's your e-mail, and that is SO your voice! Rye? Rye you rye? Ryer!

Aw! My doggie is barking in his sleep!! Gotta go!

Some jokes just write themselves

2010-01-30T17:37:00.000-08:00

I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!! Unlike Jason's psycho ex, I don't just make shit up-I find the truth and spread it like Britney on a pole at her high school reunion.

Below you will find the groups that Jason's crazy wife's girlfriend (whew!) is a member of (sellantra is her screen name. Side note: If you're ever trying to dig up dirt on someone, google their user name in addition to their real name. Most people use the same username for everything [mine is clevergirl17] and you can find out some great stuff that way). I knew she had weight issues (I'm not blind), but fifty pounds?? That is some major weight dropping! If I lost fifty pounds, I'd die. I would literally drop dead. I would weigh seventy one pounds! For those of you who need to take your shoes off to count to twenty *cough, cough* I currently tip the scales at one hundred and twenty one pounds-with my combat boots on of course :-)

So as I was writing this, I had a wonderfully genius idea!! Since Mr. Mom is always bitching about my wonderful website, I'm thinking it's time to shift the focus of my annoyance elsewhere!! What's she gonna do, complain that I'm being mean to her girlfriend now? Fine, tell the world! I'll tell them for you! Besides, K-Squared is the biggest wuss I've ever seen. She doesn't have the balls to even LOOK at me, let alone open her fat mouth. I can't believe that she thinks she can treat the kids like shit and not have anyone call her on it. Oh yeah, screaming at a bunch of kids sure does make you a big man, huh? Judging by the peach fuzz on your chiny chin chin (not to mention the lovely "unkempt and shaggy" she's going for with her brows; you know, they sell tweezers at the dollar store now) the contest for which one of you is the dude sure is a close shave. Get it? Shave. As in "you need to". Heh.

Oh happy day, this is going to be so much fun. I can't believe that the creature from the black hearted lagoon thinks that *this* is me being mean to her. Oh sweetie, you don't know what mean is! This is just me being bored! This is my relaxation! This is me amusing myself with my own wit-and who doesn't like that?! Believe me, if I'm being mean to you (I almost typed when I'm being mean to you), you'll know. Always fun to direct my hatred at such an easy target!! I don't really hate you because to hate you I'd have to care in some way about your existence and (unfortunately for you) I don't. But it sure is funny to get you foaming at the mouth! But hey, same rules apply to you that applied to Pinocchio (I could make two jokes here; one is about her huge nose full of lies, the other is about her wanting to be a real boy. Take your pick). You shut your mouth to my kids, I shut my mouth on calling you out as a fatty. But since you haven't taken me up on my offer (silly girl!) please enjoy my mocking of you and your fatty fat fatness. Fatty. McFatterson. Mayor of Fatville. Population: You and a chocolate cream pie. I'm going to keep this up until you stop calling my kids "fucking bastards" and there's nothing you can do to stop me. So enjoy reading about your weight struggle on my blog-and just so you know, I'm thisclose with the folks at the local grocery store and they will TOTALLY tell me how many ding-dongs you buy.

And for the record, if I needed to lose fifty pounds, I'd be depressed, too.

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Exchange diet tips, get and give support by talking about weight related problems and successes.

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Emotional Eaters Support Group.

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You'll find tasty and low calorie recipes here!!!

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Leash your bitch, bitch!

2010-01-30T13:51:00.000-08:00

So the other day my sister and I were walking to the shop when we came across a very cute dog. I can't remember her name, but it was something cute. Gretchen maybe? Sophie? Anyway, whatever her name was, she looked like a nice dog. We asked the guy if we could pet her and he said go ahead-so we gave her a pet. She liked it! Her tail was wagging, she was grinning, she was having a great time! So I knelt down and gave her face a pet and all of a sudden BARK! She tried to bite my face! If my reflexes hadn't been so good I'd be the modern day Tycho Brahe-I'm thinking diamonds though. Copper doesn't suit my skin tone But fate was with me and I managed to save my nose-but it was a close call! The guy was really apologetic; I think he thought I would try to get his money or have his dog locked up or something. But he was apologetic and the dog seemed to think we were playing because her tail was wagging and she wanted me to keep petting her. But still! It's scary when an animal comes at your face like that! I don't care what the animal is, I do not want anything anywhere near my face. ::shudder::

Today we took the kids to the park to meet their mom* and Jason and I took a trip to the library. As we're coming out about twenty minutes later, I see a girl in a ratty hoodie and (her leftover from 1999 fit and flare) jeans playing fetch with her dog. Her dog who is not on a leash. Was he a nice looking dog? He sure was! He looked like a really good boy. But so did the dog who went for my jugular! And the real kicker is that there's an off leash dog park just two blocks from the park. You have to drive right past the off leash park to even get to this park! I hate people who think that the rules don't apply to them. Speaking of people who think the rules don't apply to them...

The most hilarious thing happened last night! There has been this huge truck parked directly under a "No Parking" sign for weeks. It would park there every single night! It annoyed the heck out of all of us-especially me of course. I wanted to leave them a note giving them a chance to move their car (a very snottily written note of course-come on, it's me we're talking about here) before I started calling the tow company on them, but Jason talked me out of it. So I called the non-emergency police line a few times and reported him, but the cops never came and no one ever towed is car-so it annoyed me but not enough to be dealing with it every freaking day. So I was actually going to let it be-and then the most amazing thing happened! A cop was driving down our street, saw the truck, and immediately called for a tow! Yay! Best of all, we got front row seats! This guy was such an idiot. The cop pointed to this GIANT sign that says "No Parking" and says "Sir, you parked three feet away from a no stopping sign." "So what?!" the guy says. That's his whole argument! So what! Nice comeback dude! You sure told him! And this guys was continuing to argue with the cop even after his car had already been towed!! Give it up, man. Your car is gone...looooooong gone. You're going to get your ass thrown in jail if you don't shut up!

Okay, so back to my original story. This chick had her dog running around the park and I don't like that-so I told her so. "Is this an off leash dog park?" I say. "Funny, I'm pretty sure dogs are supposed to be on leashes here." She tried to act like she didn't hear me so I was like "Whatever, pretend you're not listening. God, teenage skanks are so annoying!" THEN she looked at me. Heh. But I'd said my piece. I'm done! If you got something to say, then go ahead and say it! No? Nothing? Yeah, didn't think so. Idiot. (I said that piece with my contemptuously curled lip and wide mocking eyes).

So I was originally wondering how I was going to end this post and to be honest, I couldn't think of anything. My creative juices must be leaking or something. Sigh. But then I had a burst of inspiration! I have a few quick points that I need to address with Mr. Mom (why did it take me so long to come up with that?):

First of all, you are hilarious! A freaking riot, that's what you are! Please please PLEASE go into court and argue that I made S3 sick. Tell the judge how the fuck I managed to give my endrometriosis to a five year old boy!! Did he have a burst ovarian cyst too? Did the rupturing of my appendix set off some sort of chain reaction amongst the children? You are so far beyond ridiculous. You're redonkulous! (ridiculous meets donkey) Are you sure you're not mentally handicapped? I mean seriously, you should take a test or something.

Second, and in all seriousness, I resent the implication that I lost my job and no longer have the ability to bring in money. Just because I *temporarily* lost my state job doesn't mean I'm not working. Besides, we don't need money now-we needed it back in May when I was too sick to work at all and the State basically told me to get bent-no benefits for me (and I could have lost my health insurance and been really REALLY screwed.) So no sweetheart, nobody wants your money. Jason had the opportunity to file for child support twice in the last month-the court practically shoved papers in his pocket and he witnessed a serious increase in the jaw to tile ratio when he politely declined. And you know why he hasn't asked for a modification? BECAUSE WE DON'T WANT IT!! We want the kids, not the cash. Not everyone's mind works like yours. And we do not need any help from you or your jobless girlfriend. Not only am I making money again, but my grandparents and mother are fantastic people and they help us out. Some of us have normal relationships with our parents, you know? So there. No freeloading here-that's a reflection, not a window. I'm really kind of sensitive about the whole ridiculous notion that I'm some kind of sponge, actually. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a freeloader. I earn my money-and it only took me a week to find another source of income! Sure, volunteering for medical experiments and cage dancing aren't ideal, but work is work. And for the record, they're going to let me move from the cage to the floor any day now. If I learn to dance better in heels they'll even let me on the pole! So whatever losers, don't be jealous of those who get money for being nekkid. Just because nobody wants to see yours doesn't mean you should hate on the rest of us. Besides, your fat girlfriend is unemployed and I guarantee you she couldn't raise a dollar on the street if she gave it away. People would pay her to keep her clothes on. In fact, just talking about the possibility of her ever being unclothed anywhere ever, it kind of makes me want to throw up a little. I fear for my keyboard so let's switch gears, shall we?

You are such sad loser freaks. The only reason you even know I lost my job is because you're obsessed with me and you can't stop reading about me and my wonderful life.

Sucks to be you.

Shame on me!

2010-01-15T16:12:00.000-08:00

For being so damn lazy-sorry! Yes, I know the other entry is hard to read, but computers aren't really my forte (did you know it's actually pronounced "fort"?) and I don't care about those losers enough to retype their moronic ramblings.

See, you're not so special after all. :-)

Sweet!

2010-01-14T12:09:00.001-08:00

Man, I love when I find something and I'm not even looking for it. Look at what I found saved into my e-mail drafts! I'm so glad I kept an electronic copy so that I can post it everywhere! You are SUCH a hypocrite, you psycho freak! This is Kristy's blog entry (Kristy being the last loser she dated) about what terrible people Jason and I are. What awful atrocities did we commit? Just the usual-wanting to see the kids. Going to their school for book fairs and such. Moving closer to them so we could get them more. Taking them to church. You know, the usual stuff you burn in hell for. :-)

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Friday, April 27, 2007

Unhappiness and assholes
Current mood: angry

I am so angry right now. I think I feel most angry when I feel I have no control. I feel angry when I am being judged over my ability to be a good parent. I feel angry when I give my power away by being consumed by stupid shit. The kids' Dad and his girlfriend are truly f'in a'holes. When you look in the dictionary under unstable, flippant, arrogant, narcissitic, manipulative, intimidating, lying bastards, there is a huge section attributed just to them. Their attempt to prove to be better parents than us is clouding their judgement on what is best for the kids. I hate that every time thing`s cool down, I tell myself that it will be okay. I tell myself not to worry about it, not to let it ruin my day. Yet when every weekend comes, it all starts over. I get caught in the whirlwind of the drama. I get caught up in whatever they do to get under my skin. I wish I could just learn to laugh. I wish I could learn to ignore it, or to not even care. Most of all, the good part in my heart, just wishes I could make it all better. I wish that there could be peace between us, and no negativity. I just feel like everytime we try, we end up getting f'd in the ass. They take advantage of our vulnerability. I hate it. Sometimes, I just wish they would die. I know that sounds bad. It's just that I feel like they are purposely trying to ruin our lives. They move down the street. They show up at every possible event we would attend. I can't even go to the grocery store without them being there. They are doing things to obviously screw us over. The thing they don't think about is that the children are apart of this life that we have. It also screws them over. It also ruins their lives. It also stresses them out. I hate that I can't protect them. I hate that the only way to stop it is to move far far away. Rip my kids up out of their home. Away from their school, their friends, their church. All just to escape those a'holes. It's not fair. I hate it. I know it's a strong word, but I HATE them. I wish things were different. Sometimes I just want to run. Sometimes I just want to cry. Sometimes I just feel like I can't do this anymore. I feel there is no way out.

10:26 PM

7 Comments

6 Kudos

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Ally

Hey kristy!

Im sorry to hear all that if u ever need sometime to talk to , or help with the kids let me know. i hope things gett better for you and the kids.

Ally

Posted by Ally on Friday, April 27, 2007 - 11:33 PM
[Reply to this]

Kristy

That sounds awesome...I am just not tall enough...;)

Posted by Kristy on Friday, April 27, 2007 - 11:36 PM
[Reply to this]

jordan maji

jordan majesta

You and Haley are great moms, I dont know how you juggle your kids, work, school, and lives. I only wish the men in their lives could be as cool as you two are to your children. You put them ahead of yourselves even in situations that it may seem easier to just walk away or give into your own desires. The kids are growing to be wonderful young people. It is one thing if their fathers want to be a positive part of their lives...its another if they just use the kids to upset you. Kids are not toys to be played with and used...and I know you both know that. Hopefully eventually he will grow up too and realise the kids come first. Biggest Hugs to you...and all the kids. He will get his in the end...dont worry...the world has a way of sending things in the right direction.
~maji

Posted by jordan maji on Saturday, April 28, 2007 - 1:40 AM
[Reply to this]

~Karen

Guuuurrrrllllll, quit trippin! You know that murder is ALWAYS an option, then BAM you got your power back!!!!!!! LMAO

(Sticks and stones will their break bones, but guns and knives will stop 'em in their tracks! I made that up, pretty good for a grandma, huh? LMAO)

Love you! XOXOXOXOXOXO

Posted by ~Karen on Saturday, April 28, 2007 - 5:22 AM
[Reply to this]

~Karen

What the heck is all that codish looking stuff??? I dunno about all dat!

Posted by ~Karen on Saturday, April 28, 2007 - 5:23 AM
[Reply to this]

DawnDawn

Kristy

I know it is easier said than done but try not to let them under your skin.... You are a wonderful mom... And so is haley..... I know that there are just people that you cant ignore but this is one of those people that you have to try to ignore.... you cant let him depress or discourage you

Dawn

Posted by DawnDawn on Saturday, April 28, 2007 - 10:21 PM
[Reply to this]

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*****************************************************************

So there you have it-here's her ex's e-mail from three years ago and she's doing the exact same thing that Haley is now complaining about me doing. Only my blog is actually funny and well-punctuated. That's one of the many differences between me and Fatty McFat Fat. (One of the other differences is my ability to back up without beeping.) :-)

P.S. Karen is Kristy's mom-breeder of the devil spawn. For the record Karen, I would really appreciate if you could just take a second and go fuck yourself-'cause ain't nobody else gonna do it for you!

Heh.

She's baaaaaaaack!

2010-01-12T17:19:00.001-08:00

And just in time.

Good lord, if I tried to give an update on everything now, I would be here for hours. Not that that would be a bad thing, but I'm at my sister's so time is somewhat limited so let's focus on the most hilarious, shall we?

After coming to the house a half an hour early to demand the children and call Jason a dick, his lunatic of an ex-wife ripped his glasses off his face and threw them in a bush. Did you catch that? She called him a "dick", ripped his glasses off his face and threw them into the bushes. IN FRONT OF THE CHILDREN !!!! And her haggard, smelly, short bus riding, freak show reject of a (soon to be ex-)girlfriend stood out in front of my house (MY HOUSE!) and started screaming like a banshee-and then this bitch tried to say that Jason put his hands on Haley! Yeah, right! His face was cut up (I've got pics forthcoming) and she's screaming like a lunatic and he's the crazy one. If he's so crazy, please tell me how SHE ended up in cuffs, chillin' in the back of a cop car. How was your prison stay by the way? Nice? I'm sure the people were really friendly-it must have been nice for you to be among your people like that. There's nothing freaks love more then other freaks.

And then she has the nerve to go into court this morning (about the restraining order that Jason had to take out against her) and attempt to say that what she did was okay because I'm "mean" to her. That's right ladies and gentlemen
I AM GOD! Who'da thunk it? I have so much control over her life that she is still obsessed with my opinion about her...even though nobody has blogged about anything, let alone her pathetic little life, in over six months!! It doesn't even come up if you google her!! She's out of her mother fucking mind! Why do you even give a fuck about what I think of you?? Why in God's name are you letting me get in your head like this? You're obsessed! Freaking obsessed-I'm like your crack or something! For christsakes lady, get a life! Move on, get a hobby, and shut the hell up! You and your girlfriend are certifiable nutjobs and it is just so, so pathetic. Just suck it up, loser. You're a loser-you lose! You're never going to be as smart, or as funny, or as pretty, or as skinny, or as just plain awesome as me, but so what? Why are you letting me control (and ruin!) your life? Don't you see how sad that is? You're going to waste your whole life caring about what I think of you two and that's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. You certainly didn't hear me getting all pissy when your psychotic ex girlfriend asking her myspace "friends" to off us for her. You two said all kinds of shit-but whatever! You're a douche-why would I give a flying fuck what some douche thinks of me?

Move. On. For God's sake, move on. Jesus.

Oh AND she was all pissy because someone apparently called her work and told them she was arrested for domestic violence...ha! I almost choked when I heard because that is some funny shit. Man I would LOVE to be able to take credit for that but I'm afraid that was the brilliant inspiration of another. My admiration's. If you send me an e-mail I promise total anonymity. :-)

Sigh. Well, my ride's about to be here. I'll be back, using my sisters Internet, to blog another day. Wait until you hear about how I got fired on Christmas Eve. Or how it took two doctors over two and a half hours to get an IV in me-and even then they wanted to slice me open and put in a central line!

So I'm off to do godly things...

Godly things....yeah I have no idea what the hell that would entail.

Yeah, maybe I'll just go watch some TV. Lindsey out! :-)

Out and sick

2009-06-19T00:52:00.000-07:00

Don't forget about me fellow bloggers! I have no Internet and I've been in and out of the Emergency Room. I have some good stories, and I *promise* to come back to tell you about them.

Eventually.

Sick and tired

2009-06-01T09:19:00.000-07:00

Of being sick and tired. So let's talk about something else, shall we?

Work annoys me and my boss drives me crazy. Not exactly new territory, I know but it's (she's!) still driving me fucking crazy. I filled out my complaint paperwork and I have an interview scheduled for the 22nd of June. This work environment is just absolutely ridiculous. Everyone follows different rules, on different days, depending on who happens to be here or not. I can't get accommodated to go to my doctor's appointments (two hours in a day that I would be *more* then happy to make up) but my co-worker can stroll in thirty minutes late and leave twenty minutes later to buy donuts. Now, I like donuts, but why do I get reprimanded for even *asking* if I can get time off but my co-workers are allowed to come and go as they please? Smells like discrimination to me-my boss has even been asking around to see if I'm filing a complaint against her, so she knows somethings up (and point in fact, she's not even supposed to be asking people things like that. It's so beyond inappropriate).

But I'm back and feeling (somewhat) better. I'll be back more to update later, I just hate looking at my blog and realizing I haven't written anything in over a week. Makes me feel lazy. :-)

Blog on YOUR face

2009-05-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

I think my sister did an *excellent* job summarizing our escapades, and therefore I won't bore you with the same story twice. Check her out and enjoy!

http://candyheartsyou.blogspot.com/2009/05/loving-on-hate-truck.html

P.S. I'm the one on the left. :-)

Isn't it nice to see me again?

2009-05-18T09:46:00.000-07:00

Come on, you know you missed me. :-)

Kristy Bickell: A moral cretin, a cesspool of wasted existence and a complete cow. There, I think that about covers it. I mean, I could elaborate to include her acid washed mom jeans, her slightly squished little piggy nose, her complete and utter lack of putting any effort whatsoever in to her appearance, I mean the list is endless really. But in the interest of time, I'll try and keep the inults to a minimum. Anyhow, we ran into Kristy Bickell (ED's former live-in partner; she's the one who willingly had an affair with a married woman with three kids. Her morals, as you can see, are very high) and her Kristy Bickell self (I'm repeating her name for a reason-think this blog will show up if you google her? Now that would be hilarious) at the kids school carnival; no big, I figured we would see her there-her kids do go to the same school after all (sort of-her oldest son can often be seen about nine blocks away from the school headed in the opposite direction, at about 7:45 in the morning-that's a mere fifteen minutes before school starts, so I'm pretty sure he doesn't *actually* show up for class every day. In other words, her parenting skills rival that of ED's.) and I'm not going to start any drama in front of the kids. Why would I start any drama you ask? Well, let me give you the run down on what Big Bertha has done to me and mine:

Swerved at me in a parking lot (with the kids crying in the back seat, nonetheless. However, according to her and ED, the kids weren't crying because Kristy tried to run me over, they were crying because I waved good bye to them. Try and wrap your head around that one folks-it was two years ago now and it still doesn't make a damn bit of sense to me.)

Threw food at my door (such a waste of delicious Mallomars-ED doesn't know what those are by the way. She's never even heard of them. Don't believe me? I've got a voicemail that proves me right-wanna hear? I'm working on it, so don't worry.)

Left numerous nasty voice mails on T's cell-telling him to kiss her ass, he's nothing more then a sperm donor, she's twice the parent he'll ever be (though given her size, I think she's actually right about that one. Heh.) blah blah blah

Assisted ED in writing, and then vandalizing my car with, a vile and fabricated letter outlining T's supposed atrocities.

Called me a bitch in front of the kids, at their school Christmas play (And a happy holidays to you too, mother fucker!)

CALLED THE POLICE on T and his dad (the man who took ED into his (lovely) home when she was pregnant, the ungrateful bitch) when they arrived to pick up the kids for their Christmas visitation.

Wrote a blog in which her mother (the no good skank who dares to use her big fat mouth to spread nasty lies about my mother and her supposed "drug addiction") left "joking" comment about killing Jason and I. Ha ha, murder-good one. Hey Ms. Bickell, I can see where your daughter gets her crazy from. Way to set a good example-and I notice you taught her your eating habits too (now THAT's funny-take note Bickell's, maybe you'll learn a little something).

So anyway, I'm obviously not a big Kristy person, nor will she be joining my fan club any time soon. I even took out a temporary restraining order when she tried to run me over with her minivan. (Cool set of wheels by the way. There's nothing sexier then a tub of lard crammed behind the wheel of a soccer mom van. Lookin' gooooood.) So considering all the crap she's pulled, she's lucky I don't talk shit about her every goddamn time I see her lumbering through the door of the day care center (fee fi fo fum, hide the donuts-here she comes!!) but the kids are there and unlike her and her potty mouth, I try to show some respect in font of the kids; I guess that's just a thing I have. It's that whole "setting a good example thing"-she should really try it sometime. So it's not often that I get the chance to fuck with her big fat head. But at the kid's carnival, I was presented with a golden opportunity that I just couldn't resist...

T comes up to me and pulls out his wallet. "Don't turn around" he says "but I'll give you twenty bucks to go over and play the bean bag toss. Guess who's running it". So my big brown eyes perked up and I said "No way! Kristy?? Sweet, I'm totally there." I snatched the twenty out of his hand and sauntered on over (and no, the kids were NOT there. They were happily occupied with my mother, eating cotton candy and snow cones and the like). So I've got my cash in hand, and I go to wait in line-there are a few pig tailed cuties in front of me, waiting to see what they'll win, and I'm nothing if not patient, so I don't mind the wait-especially since as soon as she saw me, she started in with the facial tics. I'm not one to make fun of those with physical disabilities, but I will say, I am endlessly amused by this woman who was all big talk over the phone, or in papers or whatever, twitching her mad facial twitch at the merest sight of me. What happened big talker? Nothing left to say? Well, I got shit to say-and I always will. So Fatty McFatFat asks "Are you going to play?" "Nope." I said with a smile, standing there with my money out, awaiting my turn. See, you didn't have to play to win a prize-and I didn't want to play anyway. I just wanted this awesome Wind in the Willows DVD set and for five bucks, you could pick any prize you wanted. So I had no desire to toss bean bags; I just wanted to get a DVD and annoy the crap out of the bitch. Successful on both counts if I do say so myself. :-)

I get up to the front of the line and she's like "Are you going to play?" "Nope", I said "I just want to pick my prize for five dollars. Besides, there's really no point in me playing-I always win anyway." Heh. Then the tic-ing started as she tried desperately to count out my change before her eyeballs twitched right out of her head. It took her more then the two seconds it should have taken to get me my change (hello, I handed you a twenty and it costs five dollars. Do you need to take off your shoes to get you through this one? Fat and stupid-there's an attractive combination.) so I said "It's fifteen dollars" "I know!" she snapped "I know how to count!". And I just looked at her with a smile, she looked at me with her one non-twitching eye, I picked up my DVD, gave her a final once over with a little laugh at the end (you know, where you look someone up and down and then when you get back up to their face, look 'em dead in the eye and give a little smirk/laugh. If you do it right, it can make even Heidi Klum think that she looks like a fat tub of lard). It greatly amused me, and I can honestly say that every time I get on that bitch's nerves, it feels like the karma in the world is finally leveling back out.

Now, I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression here. I'm certainly not sitting around, planning when I might run into Kristy, or Kate (whoopsies! Guess I'm off my leash again) or Haley (I'm thinking of making that my new code name for ED. What do you think, T?), but if presented with an opportunity to confront their black little hearts with the kids not around, I take it in a heart beat. Why shouldn't I? As far as I'm concerned, I'm still being a hell of a lot nicer then they deserve.

Bitches.

Have a happy! :-)

Oh yeah!

2009-05-14T21:09:00.000-07:00

You know, I meant to blog about this awhile ago, back when ED and her mental monkey brained self tried to file a ridiculous "harassment in the workplace" complaint against me for writing this fantastic bl0g 'o mine. :-)

But anyway, one of the fantabulous things about blogger.com is that you can change the time and day of when your blog was posted, so whenever I write it, I can post the time and day to be different. Why? Because I'm not an idiot and even though I don't access this thing from work any more (much) sometimes I'll post a blog that I've written during my breaks at say...4:53. What am I doing at 4:53? Nothing. Who has stuff to do that late in the day? I'm done by then man, I'm ready to get out. Besides, everyone in my office leaves at like four o'clock anyway, so I rarely have shit to do. So I change the time and dates to random things, usually times when I was in a meeting or something along those lines. I'm pretty sure that no one at work is googling me to read my blog, and if they are, well then I hope you all are enjoying the show. :-)

So what time should I post this today...

Not everything sucks.

2009-05-14T08:47:00.000-07:00

Even though sometimes it seems like it does. :-)

I tend to write a lot when I'm frustrated, or annoyed, or feeling bitchy, or having a bad day, or feeling bored, but I realized I never seem to chat about the stuff I like. So here you go.

Some things I've been pleased with lately:

The new Schick Razor. It's freakin' genius. It's a regular razor on one side, and an electric bikini razor on the other. Now, I do have one minor complaint-the regular razor did not work so well for me. However, I'm not ready to write this off as a deal breaker because I have this thing (some people might call it an obsession) about my legs being really, really super smooth and I can't settle for anything less then Schick's disposables. It's like scraping off your top layer of skin-fantastic! But the bikini razor is absolutely fabulous. It's totally water proof (of course) and easy to operate-plus with the coupon I used, it was only like eight dollars. An excellent deal in today's economy.

AT&T U-Verse. I wrote their head CEO dude a complaint about an unpleasant interaction I had with one their customer service representatives (me? in a confrontation? but that's unpossible!) and not only did he get back to me in less then twenty four hours, but he assured me he would be investigating the matter further and get into touch with me once he gets more information. Woo! Finally, someone responds in a polite and helpful way when someone lodges a complaint. A rare occurrence nowadays.

The new Black Eyed Peas song. What's happenin' Will. i. am.??!! You guys are totally rockin my socks. You're pumpin' the beats and fergi ferg sounds uber-fergilicious. Rest assured, you will have me shelling out the cash for your newest musical get-down. Keep it up.

Smart & Final. They have the world's most delicious cereals. They're off brands but you wouldn't know it to taste them-and I am ridiculously picky about that sort of thing. But instead of shelling out four fifty for a little box of Coco puffs, for a mere two fifty you can get a giant and delicious bag of Coco Crunchies. Or Marshmallow Stars. Or Tasteeo's. All delicious, all cheap-two of my favorite things.

100 Calorie Hershey Snacksters. Just as yummy as the sound and only 100 calories. Tiny chocolate chip cookies, little chocolate chips, and toasty little cereal puffs. De-lish.

So let this serve as a reminder to us all. Yeah, sometimes the world sucks. People cut you off in traffic, and people ride their bikes in the middle of the road. Some people try to scam money from you over the Internet. Some people are just conniving, manipulating pieces of garbage. Some people would accuse a person of being a rapist just so they don't have to pay child support.

Yeah. Some people suck. But so what? You get cut off? Give 'em the finger and move along. Bike rider in the road? Honk at just the right moment and you'll scare the shit out of them. Internet phishing? Don't be an idiot. Conniving and manipulating idiots? Ignore them. That last one though, I don't know what to do about that other then to tell the lying piece of shit that would say such a thing just to screw over a guy who had done nothing but be there for her and the kids, tell the douche bag to go fuck themselves. Tell them to get their fat ass out of your face and kiss off. Remind them that you are not to be fucked with and that should they dare to start shit with you, you will not sit by and do nothing.

It worked for me. :-)

One last thought: If you want to dish it out, then you'd best learn how to take it in.

YO momma!

2009-05-13T10:26:00.000-07:00

You know ED, I was thinking about all the shit you talked about my mother (and that subsequent conversation that left you quaking in your man shoes) and I realized that I have something to say about your mother too. I don't have any reason to file court papers, so why don't you go ahead and pass this message along yourself.

[kids] Nana,

I wanted to thank you again for sending the boys an X-box for Christmas. I have pictures that I've been meaning to send you (since you and [kids] Tata weren't able to be there to see the kids open their present, I tried to capture the magic with our digital camera. T and I just can't find the software for his camera so we haven't been able to get any pictures off of it) and we'll try to get them to you soon. We're planning on taking the kids down to see T's parents this summer, and we'll make sure that you get some time to visit with them while we're there. And remember, whenever you want to talk to the kids, you're always welcome to call them any time.

Thanks again,

Lindsey

**************************************************

And no, that's not a bunch of bullshit. ED and her using her big fat mouth to spread a bunch of ridiculous rumour about me and my family has absolutely nothing to do with the kids and their relationship with their Nana and Tata. They've been nothing but nice and they love the kids, so why on earth would I have a problem with them. I'm an adult (aren't we all-you'd better be otherwise you shouldn't be reading this blog-hello, adult content warning!) and whatever issues ED may have with me (and vice versa) are a completely separate issue.

But before you and your um, "wife" start thinking that this means I'll start relenting on getting my goddamn apology, you're out of you're frackin' skulls.

See you in court-and I'll give you a dollar if you have the balls to bring a leash. ;-)

Do real men wear dresses?

2009-05-11T14:16:00.000-07:00

ED, you really pissed me off yesterday with your little "keep your girlfriend on a leash" comment. Admittedly, my knickers were a bit twisted and that's not a feeling that I *particularly* enjoy. However, as we all know, your IQ rivals that of your shoe size, and as such, it isn't exactly rocket science to top your pathetic insults with one better. You know what speaks a million words?

Pictures.

HA! Nice dress-very manly. See, this is a perfect example of why you shouldn't put your picture on the Internet. Not only do pictures have a tendency to fall into the wrong hands (like mine), but they have a strange way of coming back to haunt you...

You know what's weird? I've made no secret of the fact that I don't believe ED is transgendered so much as she's confused and in dire need of attention and here she is, just a year or two ago (I saved this pic under "Blackmail-JustInCase" not because I was planning on using it for blackmail purposes, but I always like to keep a few unexpected missiles in my back pocket if you know what I mean) rocking a flowered house dress (and lookin' gooooood!). The *real* transgendered folks I know always say that they knew from a young age that they were born in the wrong body-a claim that ED has never made-shocking considering what a liar she is. She's such a faker. I'm straight! I'm gay! I'm straight again! I'm gay again! I'm transgendered! What the fuck is she going to be next year, a donkey? (I just wanted to compare her to an animal that would leave the door open for jokes about what an ass she is. Get it? Donkey, ass-even if that pun didn't amuse you, it sure amused the heck out of me.) It's completely ridiculous and if you ask me, her behavior is downright offensive. What's going to happen when she decides a few years down the road that she's not really a man anymore and goes back to being a chick? What are the kids going to have to call her then, the psycho formerly known as mom-dad? Sheesh. Poor kids. I mean, my dad wasn't exactly a prize-and, quick story here, neither was ED's dad. Unlike her, however, I didn't get stuck in adolescence and don't throw myself pity parties just because my dad wasn't around. Cry me a fucking river why don't you. That is just one of those things that really pisses me off, when people whine about how unloved they are because mommy and daddy got a divorce.

I was watching an episode of intervention the other day and this guy was a homeless, alcoholic, crack addict. And who did he blame for his wasted life? His parents. For getting divorced. Twenty years ago. Oh. My. God. What are you, twelve? So your parents got divorced, big whoop. Mine did too and you don't see me whining about it. And before you jump to any conclusions, my parents divorce and my subsequent relationship with my father wasn't exactly the kind of thing that gives you the warm fuzzies. My father was in and out of jail, he stole checks, tried to burn his brother's business to the ground, used his twelve year old daughter (that would be me) as a pawn to convince his ex-wife to put up money for his bail (money which still has yet to be repaid to her), and just as a last example to show you what kind of stand up guy he was, one day when he was supposed to be watching my sister and me (and shut up because that's totally grammatically correct) he OD'd and my five year old sister had to call 911 when he passed out on our bed. Good times, right? So I have some experience in dealing with crappy parents; I'm just not sitting around whining about it all the goddamn time. Poor, poor you, ED. Daddy left you and now you're all alone. So sad. Here's the thing toots-sometimes parents suck. Sometimes they're selfish, sometimes they're mean, or sometimes they're crazy whack jobs who get together with a revolving door of psychotic partners and decide to completely ignore their own children because they're just completely wrapped up in their own meaningless little lives...

Sound familiar?

Lindsey out!

Lindsey: Unleashed

2009-05-11T11:31:00.000-07:00

On Mon, May 11, 2009 at 9:21 AM, T wrote:

This is to follow-up on the events of yesterday, May 10, during the scheduled custody exchange. As you know, custody for the Mother's Day holiday (as outlined in the Court's explicit orders) ended at 6PM yesterday. Thank you for bringing the kids to my house at approximately 6:30PM. In the future, we need to be sure that we're both aware of the court-ordered schedule when it comes to holidays.

However, Kate's involvement in yesterday's events was COMPLETELY inappropriate. I called your mobile phone yesterday when I arrived to pick up the kids and found that you had already moved out of your apartment (with no notification of a move-out date, no less). It was COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE for Kate to attempt to dictate to me that I may only pick up the kids at school the next day, particularly when she was DEAD WRONG about the custody order and DIDN'T KNOW WHAT SHE WAS TAKING ABOUT. As we have REPEATEDLY established, issues concerning the kids (custody issues in particular) are for YOU AND I to resolve between ourselves. Kate repeatedly insisted that you were asleep and unavailable, and it was only after I became insistent that she finally agreed to put you on the phone. The entire incident bore remarkable similarities to my previous dealings with Kristy, and that kind of custodial interference WILL NOT BE TOLERATED AGAIN. These disagreements should be handled directly between you and I, and should involve no one else. Hopefully, we can avoid these situations in the future.

From: ED
Subject: Re: Events of Sunday, May 10
To: T
Date: Monday, May 11, 2009, 10:06 AM

I resolved the situation quickly and reasonably.

I found your e-mail, sporadically punctuated with capital letters, laughable considering your partner verbally attacked me at court and blocked my path before you had to pull her aside. Kate answering my phone while I was asleep and promptly putting me on the phone is not even in the same ball park as that inappropriate show of immaturity. I caution you to keep your partner and a shorter leash before you threaten me.

From: T
Subject: Re: Events of Sunday, May 10
To: ED
Date: Monday, May 11, 2009, 10:34 AM

You're mixing apples and oranges (to put it civilly), and you know it. Lindsey has a legitimate grievance over you CALLING HER MOTHER A DRUG ADDICT, which is a specific issue with you and has nothing to do with the kids. She stays out of any issues involving the kids, which Kate needs to do as well. If Kate has any issue with me personally, any issue that does not involve the kids, she is more than welcome to address it with me directly. However, since I refrain from calling her or her family names or making baseless accusations, there should be no issue. The fact that you continue to refuse to see the distinction between those issues is, in itself, laughable. YOU took a direct shot at Lindsey's family, in court papers no less, and for some reason expect her to just let it go. She is neither my servant nor my pet, so no "leash" is necessary. That issue is entirely between you and Lindsey, but I will say that you shouldn't take shots at a person's family if you can't handle a little lecture from a woman in high heels
with cops standing ten feet away.

However, when it comes to issues regarding the kids, Lindsey has the good sense to leave the issue to you and I. Kate needs to do the same. Laugh all you want, but the judge has already weighed in repeatedly on the issue of you involving other people in discussions regarding the kids. I shouldn't have to deal with her trying to tell me when I can and cannot pick up the kids UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, and if you are unclear on the issue, I can ask the judge to remind you YET AGAIN of that which he has repeatedly told you in the past. At this point, this is just a reminder. We already have a few issues that we need to address in front of the judge in the near future. Don't add to the list, and keep your leash for use on your own partner.

*****************************************

Hey ED, while I'm unleashed, let me take this opportunity to share some good news with you. T and I decided we would wait until you had already moved to let you in on a little secret.

You just moved into my neighborhood. :-)

My mother is less then mile away. So are my grandparents. My next door neighbor is the checker at the local grocery store. My grandparents friends own a few of the shops in the area, and many members of my church congregation live just down the road from you. My grandfather even owns a few houses just a couple of blocks away-so you'll probably see him around. They know alllllll about you and your crazy ass girlfriend. I've told them a lot.

I've told everyone everything.

So welcome to the neighborhood ED! And in the spirit of welcoming you and Crazy Kate (oh, I'm sorry-sometimes when I'm off my leash I get a little forgetful and those pseudonyms just leak right out of my brain) to the neighborhood, in loo of a housewarming present, I decided to get you something you could *really* use. Some advice.

If you want to throw around the name calling, then let's get this party started. Got something to say? You're all tough talk over the e-mail but anyone who hides behind their eleven year old son and hightails it for the car the second they see my face is nothing but a big-talking pussy. Pardon my french of course. Do I scare you ED? It sure sounds like I do. Were you scared of big, bad me? I know at least one of your girlfriends is scared of me-instead of having her answer the phone when T calls (since your lazy ass was still asleep at six o'clock), why don't you let her talk to me? It seems as though I'm the one the two of you really have an issue with, so if you have something to say, then say it to my face-ya'll are well aware by now that I say everything I have to say, directly to your big ugly mugs every time I'm presented with the opportunity. I'm going to take this golden opportunity to taunt you a little bit since I know that the both of you are too scared to say anything to me in person. I'm not scared of you swill suckers. Why the fuck would I be? Should I be scared of ED, the testosterone shooting, acne riddled, low life, sorry excuse for a donor of genetic material, or should I be more worried about Crazy Kate (whoops, there I go again-quick, get the leash!!), the ear plugging, body rocking, mental mess who can't be bothered to drag her frizzy headed fat ass out of bed before ten am? Do either of these people sound particularly threatening to anyone? I know it sure as hell doesn't strike the fear of god into me.

So I propose this: ED, you and Kate (damn that leash!) seem to have a lot to say about me-so let's talk. Let's have it all out-I would LOVE to hear your pathetic attempts at self-justification for calling my mother a drug addict (speaking of which, she'll be picking up the kids from your house time to time-since she lives down the street and all. Unless, of course, you can PROVE your slanderous, defamatory comments, which as we all know, you can't). And I want my ten dollars back too, you waste of space. You want to dance, bitches? Then let's dance. Let's chat it up, shall we? Name the place, name the time, and I'll be there.

Will you?

P.S. Welcome to the neighborhood. :-)

Dear Brandon,

2009-05-08T08:15:00.001-07:00

This is Lindsey. Candace's little sister, remember? I just heard what happened and since I kind of believe in (or at least hope for) that whole "life after death" and "being in a better place" stuff, I wanted to say something to you that I wish I had said earlier.

I'm sorry that you never got to experience the world in a way that made you happy. I'm sorry that no one realized how sad and hurt and alone you were. I'm sorry that I didn't realize how much you meant to my sister, or even how much you meant to me until you were gone. I'm sorry that you didn't have anyone there to hold you hand when you made that jump-no one there to stop you and hug you. You had so many people Brandon, people that you probably never thought of, like me, or my mom, people who would have helped you, would have been there for you. I listened to my sister talk about you and I know you were having a hard time, but I guess we never realized just how bad things had gotten.

We've all been there, I think. I know I have. I know what it feels like to be sad, and alone, and depressed, and confused, and hurt, and scared, and all of those terrible emotions that we have to go through-I know what that's like, and it's horrible. We fall into a endless tunnel of darkness sometimes and we feel like we'll never see the light again, that maybe the lights not there after all and the world will never be anything but blackness. What I don't understand is what you must have been feeling and thinking when you left your phone, your wallet, your sweatshirt, your stuff, your life, stuffed into a ball, crammed in a backpack, and left in the corner of that bridge. I don't know how you walked to the edge of that bridge and took that leap. In a perfect world you would have walked down to that bridge and waited, and thought, and thought, and thought, and just stopped for a second and then you would have realized what and who you were leaving behind. A mother who never stopped loving you. A father who can't speak your name without giving into his tears. A little brother who though the world of you, the whole world. Friends who just saw you and thought you were doing okay. We all cared so much Brandon and I'm so sorry that we weren't able to make you realize that when you were still here.

I'm sorry I won't get to know you better. I'm sorry I'll never have that chance. I just saw you Brandon. I just saw your mom, and talked to your dad. We all thought, hoped, we had more time with you but now it's too late and there's nothing we can do.

I'm sorry Brandon. I really, truly am.

Must be nice to live in such a deluded world

2009-04-30T11:16:00.000-07:00

Guess who's buying a house! That's right ladies and gentlemen, even though ED has creditors calling her day and night, even though she bitches and moans about not having enough money, even though she can't be bothered to pay her court ordered child support, she has somehow gotten it in to her little pin head that this is a *great* time to buy a house.

Now do you see why I refer to her as a Mensa reject? :-)

But really ED, what the fuck are you going to do when something breaks (which it inevitably will), or needs repairs (ditto), or new carpets (ditto again-and I'm sure those bunnies will wreck the shit-no pun intended-out of your carpets)? It's not like you're rolling in the dough (based on your own pathetic laments) and that lazy girlfriend of yours has yet to find a job-even one of the minimum wage variety. So let's see: we've got two adults, one with terrible credit and one with no job, and between the two of them, they still don't have the mental capacity to realize that this is a bad, bad idea. But hey, it's your funeral. I'll be the first one to laugh when the bank forecloses on you-and the first one to blog about how you're even more pathetic than I thought.

So enjoy your house, ladies. Enjoy it alllllllll you want because someday, probably someday in the very near future, the walls are (literally) going to come crashing down around you-just like they always do.

Have a fantastic day-and watch out for black mold. :-)

Ooh, baby I love your ways

2009-04-29T13:49:00.000-07:00

Every day. :-)

So yesterday was somewhat of a disappointment. I had an interview bail out on me at the last minute ("Sorry, we're sure you're great, but we decided to hire from within. Have a nice day!" Screw you, you jerks.), I heard back from the job that I REALLY wanted that I went on two interviews for. They called and checked my references even but I guess at the last minute it came down between me and someone else and they opted for...someone else. But the women was really nice about it and I got the impression that they really did like me, but for whatever reason, I wasn't the better fit. Ah, well. Such is life. But still, those things in combination (and happening within like twenty minutes of each other) kind of bummed me out.

Suffice to say I wasn't exactly walking on sunshine.

Until that evening.

******************************************************

What could be better then having someone who loves you enough to recognize when you're having a bad day; someone who loves you enough to buy you flowers, candy, a Betty and Veronica comic, and a card telling you how much they love you. Isn't that we're all looking for, someone who loves us-and someone who we love. Someone who we love enough to make them breakfast in bed, or to surprise them with a Star Trek novel. Maybe you don't like Betty and Veronica; maybe a Star Trek isn't exactly your thing. But love, man. Love is *everybody's* thing. We all want it, and few of us are lucky to find it, to really find the one who makes us realize what love is.

******************************************************

Okay, that's enough of that. I love you babe, but even I'm about to throw up. Thank you for the flowers darlin'. I owe you a strip tease. ;-)

XXXXXXOOOOOOOO

-L

A toast...

2009-04-27T13:56:00.000-07:00

To those of us who never made it past the first twenty four years.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martha_Mansfield

I know he was kidding...

2009-04-24T08:41:00.000-07:00

But I totally agree. :-)

*********************************************

PatThePI wrote on 04/24/2009 08:39:35 AM:
It's time the birds took some of the responsibility here ! I think it's high time we took some action against the irresponsible and dangerous actions of the birds. They fail to conform to any reasonable rules of the airways and fly with reckless disregard for anyone or anything in the sky. We need to seek federal injunctions prohibiting these negligent birds from flying in restricted air space and file suits against them to recover damages for all the death and destruction they have caused !

*********************************************

For further explanation, read this:

http://www.sacbee.com/latest/story/1807015.html

Happy Friday you flying motherf*ckers!

My unsolicited opinion on just about everything

Dear "Debra Jennings" AKA dj20956@gmail.com

GEICO car insurance-Giving Everybody Incredibly Crazy Overdrafts

I didn't LOSE it, it was TAKEN! Big difference.

Hi-di-ly-ho, neighbor-ino!

Dear Sacramento 420 Evaluations,

But now where will my mail go?

Department (in need) of Corrections

mERry christmas

At least *I* think it's funny

Happy Thanksgiving! Now, who wants a drink?

Mmmm....turkey blog

But what rhymes with "Lindsey"?

Fantastical!

Not last, not least (not yet)

All I want are my penguin mugs! He doesn't even like penguins!

Well, I tried

I'm not dead

Ooh, science-y

YOU'RE a fall risk!

Do you need a license to diagnose stupidity?

Most productive 4/20 ever

Happy Holiday!

I'm in love!

That was fast*

Third time is NOT the charm

*sniff*.....ahh.....

She's alive!!

You like pigs!

That's all folks!

Let the countdown begin

It's like a blog, only with a v

This bitch rocks.

Oh yeah? Well YOUR sister has fake tits!

Amanda Renae Biotechnology has led to many different strands of marijuana and is being used to make medical marijuana more potent. Canada is really into biotechnology and what it can do for pot. Should we stop that because biotechnology is bad?

Restrain this!!

Now how do I turn it OFF?

YOU'RE fired!!

Boo!

Between a hot dog and a tall guy*

Working hard (or hardly working)?

II - CAUSE FOR APPEAL

III - REASON FOR BEING ABSENT

IV - REASON FOR NOT OBTAINING LEAVE

V - READY, ABLE AND WILLING

PURSUANT TO THE FOREGOING FINDINGS OF FACT THE ALJ MAKES THE FOLLOWING DETERMINATION OF ISSUES:

WHEREFORE IT IS DETERMINED

Some jokes just write themselves

sellantra's Groups

Leash your bitch, bitch!

Shame on me!

Sweet!

She's baaaaaaaack!

Out and sick

Sick and tired

Blog on YOUR face

Isn't it nice to see me again?

Oh yeah!

Not everything sucks.

YO momma!

Do real men wear dresses?

Lindsey: Unleashed

Dear Brandon,

Must be nice to live in such a deluded world

Ooh, baby I love your ways

A toast...

I know he was kidding...

At least I think it's funny

sniff.....ahh.....