Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

All Mixed Up Inside

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The news is mixed, at best. As in all ranges from pretty bad to okay and back to moderately hellish.

New roommate/caregiver is Raul. He's a 28-year-old full blooded SoCal Mexican who currently looks more Indian than is understandable. Apparently even an Indian friend of his says he's definitely capable of pulling a Punjabi girl should he so desire.

It feels weird to have everything moving ahead so dang quickly. He's a man on a mission and I hope that nothing messes up the alliance he and I hope to build together.

My ex is really messing me about and I am severely stressed by his lack of communication and his obvious advantage taking that only a lawyer or advocate could protect me from.

And, yes, several friends did say I should get a lawyer but with no money and what with the three day turn-around signing time and the fact he had my rent and food and medication to hold over me and filing in TX against our original CA tentative agreement…well, it all adds up to I was backed into a corner and had no choice. None.

It would have been nice if an advocate on a white charger had ridden up to protect me. But none did. So my ex took me to the cleaners and continues to do so. Half his income? Ha! Medical expenses? Not a cent! The car he wanted and picked out? Now I'm paying for it and the insurance. Never mind I don't have the money to pay my medical expenses. Nope. He just keeps pushing me harder and harder.

This self-righteous schmuck who makes over six figures a year is giving me less than a third and, let me reiterate, that's with him not paying a penny toward my medical expenses.

Gah!!!

Enough. I'm crying from pain anyway. The picture is from me playing with shadows, sunlight, and vectors on the back porch a few days ago.

Going to be growing herbs, small fruit trees, and potatoes, among other things. Raul is an experienced city gardener. I'm suicidal from the stress but Raul's plans are great. At least when they aren't frightening the heck out of me. He has a lot he wants to do. We're even discussing what sort of space and where we will want to have it when we move out. Long range plans coupled with good care helps. As do my sweetlings.

From Nobody To Many Bodies

So in the insanity of having to have to ask friends for help walking the dogs for their long walk of the day, which I'm grateful for the people who are helping and are offering to help, things have definitely added to my Addison's AND my Fibromyalgia flaring up big time. Ouch, mother fucker, ouch! (sing that last sentence if you get the riff joke.)

Looking for a new roommate/caregiver has gone from zero candidates to three deserving of which two need a home sorted ASAP. And this evening brought another worthwhile candidate...I should take it down tomorrow if this keeps up.

Yes, it's a barter situation, and with their rent and utilities covered by me, I should get decent part time care in exchange. So why did somebody send me an absolutely nuts abusive email last night? Basically accused me of taking advantage etc. Nuts, I tell you! I just reported the troll's email. That's a new feature on Craigslist that is a great addition, by the way.

But of the three I've already interviewed (one's in SoCal so we spoke for an hour or so using FaceTime) the one with less urgent housing needs seems the most like a great match as a roommate and possible business partner. He's the most committed to our having a real home and his latest email really hit the nail on the head as to what I'm hoping to find in my next roommate/caregiver.

As I always say, the caregiving is the easy part to find - it's the roommate part that is difficult to get sorted.

So, if all goes as planned, hopefully I'll have an answer by Monday evening as to whom will be my next William - or, if I'm lucky, a mix of the best tween him and Erica.

There's a 60 year old retiree who's from Belize and stays partially at his ex-wife's house around the corner and partially in his van. There's a 32 year old Queen's bred and born who hopes to teach English around the world in nine months at the latest. And there's a 28 year old web designer, first generation from Mexico, who seems like a fantastic match. Both of the younger ones are lacto-ovo vegetarians, love animals, and techno savvy.

And an even younger female wrote to me tonight, a very nicely descriptive and detailed email deserving an appropriate response.

Tomorrow I may have the SoCal guy staying overnight (in the second bedroom) to see the area, hang out with me and the pets to see how we all mesh, and basically talking with me about ideas he has and thinks I can contribute to.

And then I also have an OKCupid non-date (aka platonic for whatever reason fits the various platonic non-dates I have) with a gentleman who has a primary and I think a secondary (that would be my reason for him being platonic only) tomorrow evening that I'm looking forward to. We have much in common and we've been writing back and forth for some time so I'm glad we finally seem to be able to synch our schedules.

And I'm in severe pain (8.5) so I'm off to eat something other than the organic avocado drenched in organic lemon juice, picked by Shana and squeezed by me. I've a plantain sitting in sugar-lemon water for sautéing later, some left over ravioli from "Project Open Hand", and maybe two slices of garlic toast. So far today I've had a yogurt and two small cinnamon rolls that I burnt the bottoms of because I forgot to spray the baking pan. Sigh. A lot for me!

To sum up: I've had a lot of stress, but out of nowhere I've found several people who might work as good roommates and caregivers. I'm sick and hurting, but if my friends continue to assist me I can not rush into my choice. That has only led to trouble. I'm grateful my friends are helping me. Walking my dogs, handling my errands, checking in to make sure I'm okay. It all helps and makes my life a little less overwhelming.

Sunny Days & Quiet Nights

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Watching my cheaply purchased used copy of "Mary Poppins" 40th anniversary copy, which has much better reviews than the 45th. The popups are interesting, as is the commentary.

I've tried to not stress too much about Shana's leaving tomorrow and the lack of a replacement caregiver. Originally I gave her two weeks. She asked if less was okay based on a job offer she received in Los Angeles. I said yes. She then asked if I could give her more time. So when she told me yesterday (Wednesday) that she wanted to leave today (Thursday), a person can imagine my shock and fear. She then told me about Clarence (or "Big C") and we invited him over. I expected to see him more today as she is leaving very early tomorrow (Friday), but I've not seen either.

The pets have all been very affectionate and I've tried to sort myself out for the what if situation of having Shana leave and Big C not here. I'm scared as walking the dogs? Can't really do it. I guess I can use my cane to get to my car and get the wheelchair out and have them drag me around?

The pictures are from me hanging out on the back porch as the sun was going down. Of course Ein and Femme Pois joined me. They hear the screen door and Ein's immediately running with FP at her heels. Really adorable.

Shana just came in to let me know Clarence bailed on tonight. She's packing her car and cleaning up tonight so she can get in her car and take off as soon as she gets up. She told me she thinks I need to put an ad up after all. So my stress levels kicked my Addison's into gear. Hopefully this will not lead to me heading back into the hospital.

On that note, if anybody reading this knows a person who would like a part-time job in exchange for their rent and utilities and some food, loves animals and doesn't mind no meat, chicken or fish in the house (whatever they want outside of course is fine) due to my illness unable to handle it and my cookware/dishware being essentially kosher - I could use the introduction. The biggest chore is walking the dogs, feeding 'em, taking me to doctors...actually the link to the ad will be up soon.

I'm lucky my sweetlings love me so much because I'm about ready to give up. Seriously. Fighting my depression from this, my financial status after my medical bills, and my Addison's teaming up against my health with the Fibromyalgia and Myoclonus is not easy...so I'll find something to eat and watch "Mary Poppins."

The Lessons Never End

I woke up not feeling too bad, did a few basic chores like opening boxes, putting things away, breaking boxes down, & the like, only to have a terrible attack.

The hot sweat pouring down even in my close to negligible dress (long, yes, but light materials for wearing over swimwear) isn't the worrisome part. No, the dizziness and close to vomiting from just the little bit is the thing that makes me have to remember I need help for even the smallest of chores.

Laundry? Nope. Even hanging extra bits out to get sun dried? Nope. I can do maybe a section of it but that means I need an hour break before I even think of opening the boxes. What if I sit down? Nope. Still too much.

The lights for my aquarium arrived! Surely taking the dead bulbs out to put the brand new ones in? Nope. Need at least half an hour between each action. Take out old bulbs, put new ones in - but only after waiting half an hour after retrieving them, and so forth.

Laying on my back with my legs elevated on my imitation hospital bed styrofoam pad and my head raised a bit by the different shaped but similar styrofoam I'm still pouring sweat and fighting against the nausea. Zofran trying to intercede on my behalf against the tummy's attack.

Ein just climbed the pet stairs to either protect me, be protected by me, or get in between me and the large fan. Doesn't matter. There's enough fan for both of us and if there was truly anything worth hiding from Femme Pois would be barking her tiny little head off. Dog and cat food arrive from Amazon tomorrow. Flea spray that's not a bomb and has very good reviews arrived today. Another extensive wait in between opening and studying and using must take place.

Same with the light bulb and vent filter for the car. I checked and they both came up when I typed in my model and year. To get rid of that nasty mildew smell and see if the light going out isn't the dreadful electric issue as mentioned when searching lights and my model and year in google. Bad news that I'm unsure of how to handle and in my married days could have told my ex and he could have figured out the next step. Being this sick and on so many medications I don't know how to handle any of the next steps in my world.

After 15 minutes of dealing with my landlord's billing errors I managed to get through all the problems. On the plus side (?) it turns out that my ex is still in the lease. Why and how I don't know. But the woman helping me sort through the slight mess of their new billing system told me that he still is. I wonder if they mean to bill him for the amounts I can't afford. It would be easily justified. But who knows?

3:15pm and I'm uncertain as to my future, never mind my present and my past. The pain has me firmly in hand and I'm struggling to keep myself from drowning in it. Three pennies and three candies and my homemade red and black ring all combined with a chant to hopefully open paths closed or blocked. Odd for an avowed atheist, but the worse things get, the more helpless I feel, the more ill etc., the more things I feel it can't hurt to try.

My dreams and/or nightmares have anxiety bases - dreaming that I finally found the shoes promised to a male friend. It's amazing to me how many people I've met with my ex's shoe size, or with mine. As though each of us has the most common. Before my steroid ballooning (as Gilda Radner phrases it at one point in her autobiography written during her losing fight with cancer) my dress size was 8-10 directly off the rack. Even my wedding gown didn't need any tailoring. It fit perfectly right off the rack.

My largest fear is what will I do about my medications and such once October rolls around and I'll no longer have any insurance. It's just hovering over me. The lack of home help but the very basic and my inability to cope right now has me beyond afraid. And that gets me angry with myself.

Pointless, really. I need to rest more now as I've evidently gone past my capabilities. I'm still sweating while just laying here and that's a bad sign. Hot enough to needlessly struggle, resting and recuperating are my guide words. Okay. Up to get a fresh fruit and back to bed to eat it.

Quickly, Quickly, This Is The Way We End It All...

Tonight was a night of doing things I shouldn't but at least the pain's earned and not just given.

• Made a fresh batch of rice in the cooker

• Baked my mini-Banana Rum Bread (Iced a few w/pre-made cream cheese icing)

• Clipped the deadly claws of Lolita, Princess of Goth (sans assistance)

• Heated dinner and shared 50/50

• Filled pain killer weekly container

• Gave Shana my pain prescription for pharmacy delivery

There's a few more that I'd meant to mention but can't recall. These might not seem like much, especially as they're all low impact, but for people with my conditions this pile of independent movements are my way of trying to not let the sickness have its way all the time. And even something as simple as remembering to give the prescription for drop off was a good thing.

Organic and locally grown veggies and fruit are in a large box sitting on the stairs. I'd love to go through them now but if I make any noise at all it's my bloody and painful death occurring, nobody else's. But I still want to know what I got in this first time shipment.

And I am listening to something very reminiscent of my serious GOA Trance and progressive house blending of the mid-90s. How bizarre.

It reminds me of things and places and people that have left such strong imprints upon and within me.

And with that, night-night. :-)

11pm & in love with Solitude. Perhaps.

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These are from last night, Femme Pois elongated, Zweite Ein's stuffed animal body swirled, and my mouth and nose kaleidoscoped.

Shana said tonight my face is really very red for some reason. Worrisome but nothing to do for it. Except continue resting. Keep an eye on it and my other medication reactions, I guess.

To say I'm incredibly depressed would be a massive understatement. The pain's bad enough to just keep me laying in bed with FP and Ein both pressed up against my leg. Without them I'd want to jump. Well, not jump, but perhaps over indulge in my medicines?

I'm stuck in a bad space. The clock said 11pm and now the time has gotten to 12:15am and tears are sort of streaming down my face from the pain and the knowledge I can't keep going on like this.

Huge migraine and utter sadness. Getting close to 1am. The lack of loving contact hits me at such times. Even the love of my sweetlings isn't helping me get through this. What this? 1:15am and Netflix has nothing to distract me from the pain and the fear that never ceasing pain is past, present, future-perfect.

Ein and Femme Pois cuddle and lay in places that protect me when it comes right down to it. Butts against one another and heads facing out so as to defend me.

Sometimes it feels as though my neck is in somebody's hands and it hurts to breathe and with the migraine and the steroid fat on my neck feels like it has a firm hold.

Spoke with Shana about things a little bit. She may end up staying and helping me out until she moves to Los Angeles.

Do I want to find help through Craigslist? No. Will I? Most likely. And on that note I'm off to play a few games before I manage to get sleep. Ouch to my pain. Ouch.

You Do What You Can But Cthulhu Will Never Care...You Will Still Die

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I'm in physical pain.

Also in emotional pain.

There is something to be said for forthrightness and attempts at full honesty.

But there's also something to be said for just caring enough to not get hurt.

If somebody you spent time with admitted that they came over to hang out and get laid then didn't understand how that might hurt your feelings since the hanging out and burgeoning friendship is still extremely fragile.

There's so many things to write about. The love of a good friend helps when I'm in dire straits. The fact that I gave Shana two weeks and we have so much in common that we recognize it's about scheduling more than anything else. Definitely a case of windows open vs closed or toothpaste tube squishing middle vs the end killing a good relationship in every other way. What else? I don't know what to do.

Not about where to live or even how to live when I am so beyond broke and unsure of how to find a blend of characteristics that I've met and mixed well with, minus the psychosis, selfishness, and plain old creepy behaviors I've met and just couldn't fit at all with.

Craigslist again?!? Problems I might have held with Will, but I just can't see that for the most part that we didn't get along. I mean to say that the problems for the most part were very far outweighed by the healthy home we had for the most part. Do I really want to subject myself to the, I hate to state, hell of going through the overwhelming agony with these "applicants?" The scammers, the devoutly religious, the positively definitely drama bringers, and the desperate who don't really think they need to earn their rent, and those who severely over think their times worth.

Ugh to the nth degree.

The pictures are of Chris (playing "The Lego Star Wars"), Femme Pois, Ein, Precious Petal behind Chris, me, and me. Created using an iPad2 and one of the camera apps.

Too much to think about.

You Do What You Can But Cthulhu Will Never Care...You Will Still Die

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I'm in physical pain.

Also in emotional pain.

There is something to be said for forthrightness and attempts at full honesty.

But there's also something to be said for just caring enough to not get hurt.

If somebody you spent time with admitted that they came over to hang out and get laid then didn't understand how that might hurt your feelings since the hanging out and burgeoning friendship is still extremely fragile.

There's so many things to write about. The love of a good friend helps when I'm in dire straits. The fact that I gave Shana two weeks and we have so much in common that we recognize it's about scheduling more than anything else. Definitely a case of windows open vs closed or toothpaste tube squishing middle vs the end killing a good relationship in every other way. What else? I don't know what to do.

Not about where to live or even how to live when I am so beyond broke and unsure of how to find a blend of characteristics that I've met and mixed well with, minus the psychosis, selfishness, and plain old creepy behaviors I've met and just couldn't fit at all with.

Craigslist again?!? Problems I might have held with Will, but I just can't see that for the most part that we didn't get along. I mean to say that the problems for the most part were very far outweighed by the healthy home we had for the most part. Do I really want to subject myself to the, I hate to state, hell of going through the overwhelming agony with these "applicants?" The scammers, the devoutly religious, the positively definitely drama bringers, and the desperate who don't really think they need to earn their rent, and those who severely over think their times worth.

Ugh to the nth degree.

The pictures are of Chris (playing "The Lego Star Wars"), Femme Pois, Ein, Precious Petal behind Chris, me, and me. Created using an iPad2 and one of the camera apps.

Too much to think about.

Everybody Must Get Stoned

I'm not at this moment listening to Bob Dylan. In fact a person might never come across me listening to him. My Mom and Step-Dad loved listening to him, the Grateful Dead, and other rampant hippie shit I detest to this day. However Fleetwood Mac, Frank Zappa, and various others made up for those detested by me.

So I'm quoting the song, not exclaiming a bizarre hippie belief.

But I'm undergoing the starting tremors of a full blown panic attack with migraine, tears, terror, dismay, and an overwhelming terror at the state of my life.

If my pets are barometers for the need I have for protection, I'm in serious need. Ein sleeps next to me on the bed constantly ever since Shana moved in. Maybe she'd come up during fireworks or storms, but now she's not only on the bed, but she sleeps with her head near mine and her body pressed up against me. Completely new and disconcerting, though appreciated, behavior of protecting me.

She's apparently found an annoying fly and she keeps whipping her head around, yet I've seen and heard naught so far.

You know what? I could use a hug. A big comforting one. More than one, actually. Lots and lots of hugs. Chris has started giving me really good hugs. Daniel needs to get cracking on the visiting front, as does Erica. Maybe Chris, Carl, and I could all attend The Vortex Room's Anniversary shindig tomorrow evening. I think the three of us make the best travel crew for the SF jaunt.

My friend Chip is FINALLY visiting mid-October. There will be many amazing hugs shared that week.

But for this moment I'm undergoing serious panic attack buildup. A neurotic roommate who believes in the occult and admits to knowing people who practice dark or black magic against others and who has a grudge against you can cause stress not because you necessarily believe in it - but the ramifications of practicing such arts against somebody aren't enough to stop certain folks from doing what they can to hurt a trusting and unaware person at perceived slights, oft times magnified in response so if a person believes in it and has it done toward somebody that means they're really throwing a lot of hatred your way since they're effectively saying "Screw the consequences - I don't care if it hits me in the ass I'm that full of hatred toward my 'victim'" etc. etc.

I'm lucky enough that my Ein is between me and the world at almost all times. This is, as I mentioned earlier, strange behavior from Ein. I'm grateful however for the love I feel from Ein and Femme Pois.

The cats are in the living room, chilling by themselves. Shana's been in her room most of the time since she woke up. I wish things could have worked out but as Chris reiterated several times last night it's best to look at it as merely a conflict of personalities and a person with an adrenal insufficiency probably shouldn't be looking after the same, even if worse, because it's hard to maintain and our schedules clashed big time.

I really like Chris. His company is refreshing. Talking to him reminds me of talking to Andrew or Carl. And he's trying to be a good friend because he's a truly good person underneath all his on top persona.

The back porch is beckoning evilly for me to put on one of my sun hats, grab some ice water, put on my prescription sunglasses, and go out and read for a bit on my recliner in the sun. Ooh - a reason to use some of my sunscreen even!

Hugs and visitors very direly desired. I'm worth the effort of a visit, I promise!

And even with my skeptic beliefs I'm holding tight to my anti evil eye from Chip and asking any white light types to go ahead and protect me please? Reiki, 93, Pagan, Faerie (the good kind) - you know who you are. If I could there's a daily Groupon for a $100 tattoo for $50 and I have three ready to go if I could swing the funds.

Ah well. My armor is the love of my sweetlings and my friends. It takes a lot to hate your way through the likes of that positivity!

I'm so weird sometimes.

Two Weeks, or Less

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Chris came over "again" last night. Like Melissa offered before Diane's fatal leap, he's offering to help me out by walking the dogs, running shopping errands, and basically (as he phrased it) help pull up any slack. Between him, Melissa, delivered organic fruits and veggies next Monday, Safeway delivery if necessary, and Shana continuing her job until she leaves I'm not as bad off as I could be.

I did have to borrow money this week in order to make it from now until the 15th. Pet food, cat litter, medications, my food, etc. cause the borrowed funds to be gone before the check even gets here. But it will help me take care of my responsibilities. Apparently low in the priorities of others.

Furious at Shawn for dropping close to everything with me, including his cat who I love but am allergic to. I've written him multiple