10 Things About Me

I have one blog friend here, and it seems that in some ways he has the advantage..or do I? I can read his archives, but I am new here, no real history to speak of. So, for you, my bloggy buddy, I will tell some of my deepest, darkest, secrets.

1. I used to work in the morgue, as an assistant. I loved the work, but could NOT handle the maggots and the smells.

2. My two best friends have been my friends for 29 and 24 years. They know more about me than my own family, and I love them more than most of `real`family.

3. I am estranged from most of my family members. There are various reasons, but the end result is the same for all of them. They are out of my life.

4. I am an expert shop lifter.

True.

When I was a homeless teen, I made food money by stealing. I have never robbed anyone, or mugged anyone. I just stole from big box stores to make some cash.

5. I miss some of my estranged family. Sad, but true.

6. I wish that I didn't.

7. I dated identical twins. They were not completely identical.

8. My mother abandoned me when I was three. I was raised by my Dad.

9. I have some Canadian celebs in my family. (Nothing like Paris, or Madonna, but any self respecting Canadian would know of them). It doesn't get me better tables at restaurants or free stuff.

10. I know more about cults and ritualistic abuse then your average person.

Ok, ok, some of these things are known by my friends, and a couple are deep, dark, secrets.

Stay tuned for more.........

Ranty Rant

My husband's fucktard of a nephew is in trouble again.

Last summer-ish, he was arrested, along with two or three other young offenders, in a stolen vehicle, with weapons, booze and stolen goods. The Fucktard, who was driving, tried to run a cop over. (Did you read about this?)
He was already on probation, but I have no idea for what.

I really thought that he was gonna serve some time. Hubby and I argued about it, b/c I felt that he should do some sort of time. He has gotten away with everything his whole life. He dropped out of school at 16 and neither of his parents cared. He sat around playing video games and getting stoned.

The Fucktard goes to court, and is given.....drum roll please.....more probation. He is supposed to work full time, keep his curfew and of course, he is not allowed to associate with known criminals.

Of course, Fucktard works about two days, rips off his employer (also Hubby's) and is seen or heard from again. Hubby is thrilled about this, b/c Fucktard is USELESS. He cries, moans and complains the whole day. The worst part? Fucktard's father wants Hubby and his work partner to pay Fucktard out of their paychecks. WTF?

The next we hear, Fucktard rips off a bunch of drug dealers for about a grand. I dunno, stole the weed, I think.

Guess what happens? Fucktards parents call MY HUBBY and want HIM to do something! They want him (us) to deal with the dealers b/c FT is gonna get fucked up by the not so nice men that sell drugs.

Hubby suggests getting FT to own up to what he did and work something out with the dealers to pay back the money. I mean, what, are we supposed to pay them back? Hubby is supposed to beat a bunch of people up? Hubby is 38 and would serve at least two years. They know this, they still think that it is up to Hubby to smooth things out.

Fast forward a few weeks. The Nice Drug Dealers find Fucktard and beat the living shit outta him.

Flash forward again.

Hubby and I run into Fucktard's mom and little bro's in the grocery store. Now, this woman is the ex girlfriend of Hubby's bro. She talks trash about the whole family and treats all of the family like crap. Of course, she has a need now, so Hubby is her best friend. She is all smiles, chewing her gum with her dirty ass lips smacking like a cow munching its cud. She tells Hubby,

Oh, Tom, did you hear? I was gonna enlist your help?

It seems that she wants my Hubby to go beat up the drug dealers b/c of what happened to her baby boy.

HOLY FUCK!

I am sooo gd tired of people knocking on our door asking us to clean up their messes. Hubby has been doing it since he was a kid. He is the youngest and he is expected to be at the beck and call of all of his siblings.

Last month, we almost killed the guy that his sister shacks up with now and again, b/c he stabbed Hubby's nephew with a screwdriver. This is a different sibling, different nephew. I could have killed this guy. I could have. I came sooo close to doing something irreversible and moronic because I was so caught up in all of it.

I am done. I am out.

These little pukes need to fend for themselves. If it were up to me, I would have delivered that little asshole to the drug dealers myself.

Molly

My beautiful, incredible, amazing, stubborn daughter is 13 years old. She was diagnosed with type one diabetes when she was just three years old. It was one of the worst days of my life and I can only recall it in bits and pieces. The parts that I do remember, I remember vividly, in colour.
I was still with my ex then (Husband number two, not one of my great loves) and he was, as he still is, useless as hell. He offered very little support, and I felt as though I was on my own.
I still feel that way, mostly because I am. I am estranged from most of my family,and the ones that truly matter are in a different province, and in the case of my sister, a whole other country.
Molly has had her ups and downs with this horrific disease. Her blood sugar has never really ever been under control, no matter what we did.
Of course, now she is a teenager, and it has only gotten worse. She spent her entire Christmas holidays in the hospital last year, and had two other one week stays.....It has been a struggle.
Recently, she underwent a 24 hr urine test. The test will tell us if she has permanent kidney damage.
I am beside myself....She has no idea how her life will change if we get bad news next week. None at all.
I do, and that is what scares the shit outta me.

The Pirate Movie: First Love

First love...I have been thinking alot about my first love.

I was 13 when The Pirate Movie came to theatres. I saw Raiders Of The Lost Ark instead and caught The Pirate Movie on the movie channel. I watched it until I knew most of the dialouge and all of the song lyrics by heart. (Sadly, this is still true. I can sing the songs word for word and I talk along with the movie).

Christopher Atkins was my idea of a perfect first love. I waited and prayed for my first love.

He came along 3 years and a new province later. I spent many lonely months on my mothers front steps, waiting for fate to intervene and help my 1 st love find me.

He finally did, in the local mall. His name was Blaine and when I fell, I fell hard.

We were off and on for a year, until I decided to 'visit' my home province of Ontario. I promised Blaine that I would be back, that I could never leave him.

That was 1987. I have lived here ever since. I carved out a new life - or, rather, refurbished my old one - and moved on alone.

It has been many years since I have seen him. He is a grandfather now and has been with his wife for 18 years. I remember the day that he told me that he loved her. He said that she was the first person that he didn't compare to me, and that when he was with her, he only thought of her - not me. I was going to tell him that same day that I was leaving my husband and wanted to know if we could try again.

I never told him and he went on to marry a wonderful woman.

I still think of him. How can I not? So many of my memories are centered around him, around us. The time that we spent together were some of the happiest of my entire life.

Here's to you, Blaine, my first love.

I have been thinking a lot about mental illness and the way that we are treated...those of us that are mentally ill - in the media and in society in general.
I am bi polar. I am not going to blow up a house, rob a bank, steal your garbage cans or break into your house to have a shower. Oh yes, these are all portrayals of the mentally ill on tv.
I am a mother, and I do not work outside of the home.
Does this make me a bad mother? I am not sure.....I do have mood swings, I do stay in bed for hours - maybe even days at a time.
I do not, however, take illegal drugs and sleep with every man that I meet. In fact, I can count on three hands all of the men that I have ever been with. All of them. I even know all of their names, first and last. This is a far different reality from the one that we are faced with in the media.
I wish that people could see the real me.
Better yet, I wish that people cared that there IS a real me, and I am not a caricature of a an actress that is wailing away on the small screen about the plight of the crazies.