How White People Take Their Vengeance...per the Mackistani

This is so funny. The Mack is in Florida right now and he's been calling me today for assistance here and there. So, he goes to rent this car at Payless Car Rental in Orlando and immediately after, he calls me up to tell me about his adventure.

Since the Mack's English is sometimes difficult to understand, I won't go into details, except to say that he ticked off the desk agent. Apparently, she was white.

He goes, "...and she was mad at me for giving her all this trouble and extra work."

So I say to him, "Well, what did she *say*?"

"She didn't say anything. You don't understand," he says as I sense another lecture on how things work in America. He loves telling me about what he's learned in his travels. "Black people and colored people are stupid. They yell at you and curse you to your face. White people are smart. They just screw up your LIFE. That's how they take their revenge...with a smile on their face!"

"I thought you were smart girl and that you knew this!" Yeah, he often forgets his articles.

"Well, honey, I don't go around making people angry left and right."

"Oh, ok."

Time for a New Career

But what shall it be?

Watching how the Mack runs his business life has been inspiring. When he gets an idea about something, he researches it, then he evaluates it - figuring out the 'secret' of it - then if it's still a good idea, he just does it.

This is probably the first relationship where I've been extremely upfront about how I am with money and about my financial situation. Granted, that's easier when you're not lying and being dishonest left and right and you're not doing freaky, possibly illegal things with money. So I'm really glad that I've changed.

And I'm really glad I can be that honest. I'm getting on a tangent now, but this is the first time that I've thought, well, I'm just going to show who I am in all my glory or lack thereof, and if he likes it, great. If not, I'll be ok.

Anyway, the Mack has been really great about where I am financially. I don't have much debt, relatively speaking, but what I do have is past due and I'm working to get rid of it. I haven't had any real ambition for a while now, but I feel my ambitions for success returning and I have to admit that Dedee is a large reason for that.

He has had great advice for how I can get out of debt, how to negotiate with bill collectors, and how I can simplify my life and achieve my very simple goals of obtaining an education and a house.

So I've been a secretary for about five years now. Just at ABC Nuts and Bolts, that is. I've been in administrative assistant work for longer than that. And I'm pretty tired of it. I need a job where I can be creative and I can talk to people. Where I can be passionate and use my people skills to their fullest advantage.

And I am leaning toward that job being sales.

Now, I have sold Mary Kay before. But at that time, I was in my addiction, and so it didn't go very well. Read: more wreckage. I was good at it, but I had no real confidence to acquire really good customers, and my personal life was a hot steaming mess.

At this time, I have a year of abstinence. I have a plan for how to get myself out of debt. I believe that I really can achieve my goals, as long I keep them simple. I'm paying my bills, not being crazy, brushing my teeth every day, and doing laundry occasionally too. Dedee is doing ok and I have some boundaries. I think I might be finally ready to do something and actually be successful at it.

I still have a lot of questions and I'm not sure what's going to happen, but I'm going to use this time while the Mack is in Florida and after his subsequent move to Chicago to figure out what I'm going to do.

The Mack really wants me to go get an associate's degree at least. I don't see how I can do *everything* that I want to do and get that at the same time. I know it's important, but I just don't know how doable it is right at this moment. I don't really need to know right now; I just need to keep moving forward.

A Clot it is Not

So I got this ginormous hematoma from the snowboarding fun on Sunday.

Remember how I said that it looked 'fun' and that I would probably try it again?

Well, no I fucking will not. I don't care if I have to whore out my being a parent in order to avoid it (as in, 'I'm a parent and it would be irresponsible for me to risk making my child an orphan by undertaking a 'very dangerous' sport').

So far, this damn adventure has cost me $100.00 that I didn't have to begin with. $20 for the doctor's office visit to see if my tailbone was broken (Dedee just learned a new word tonight, ie, "Don't run so fast, Mommy's coccyx hurts."), then $5.00 for the vicodin, and now $75.00 for the ER visit to make sure Mommy doesn't have a clot that might float up to her heart or brain and kill her. Plus three hours of ER time, about 30 minutes of which was spent actually doing things.

So what happened today is that I have this ginormous, ugly bruise on my left shin. No biggy right? It'll heal, right? Well, I was kneeling on my chair for some reason and something flippin BURST inside that damn thing. So you know that freaked me out, and I called up my doctor. And what do you think they said, "Get thee to an emergency room, for thy may have a clot, and we do not haveth a Doppler machine to check that shit out." I was like, "Are you kidding?"

So I was messaging Lashanda Williams and I go, 'Yeah they want me to go to the ER.'

'Why?'

'I might have a clot in my leg. But I'm not going yet, because I have a lunch date and expense reports to do. I sound crazy don't I?'

'Yes.'

'Ok.'

So, I ended up going to the ER. My blood contained elevated levels of the byproducts of clots. Which, the doctor explained, could have resulted from the multiple harmless clots in my leg, or and he closed the door for this one, my 'menstrual period'. LOL. Dude practically whispered 'menstrual period' like it's a crazy alien phenomenon or a position in the kama sutra. lol.

Anyway, all that time in the ER was productive, I GUESS. I don't have a clot. Whoopee.

'Enchanted' Aftermath

So my little blossom and I went to see 'Enchanted' tonight. Great movie. Worked for kids too. Dedee loved it.

After we see movies, Dedee is always a little over-excited. One time, we were at a theater and my little 80 pound blossom collapsed the landing gear. This was after 'The Golden Compass,' which, by the way, is frickin eye candy. The police officer there thought he was going to solve this problem tout de suite. Yeah, whatever, knight in shining Kevlar. Ye have met thy match.

Anyway, he couldn't fix it. I fixed it though.

So, moving on, tonight after the movie, Dedee decided to run around the parking lot. She wasn't watching for cars very well and with my bruised tailbone, I couldn't chase her, but I did my best and we made it to the car without any broken bones.

However, little Dedee wanted to take control of the situation and didn't feel like getting in. I got in the car and tried to get her with something like five requests. No dice. She was out there taunting me. Daring me to control her. 'Hey gimp, you can't control the seven year old!!!!'

So I locked all the doors but the one that I wished her to use and proceeded to turn up the music and start dancing in my seat and looking like I was having the time of my life. LOL. Worked like a charm!

But then of course she didn't want to buckle up. One warning about the kid police was all it took.

I'm really getting good at this. Mack and I were just joking the other day about how I better heal up soon, before Dedee takes over the world and starts bombing other countries while I'm out on the corner selling flowers. He was soooo right!

Dedee, Mommy's only 31 and she ain't a gimp. I'll be healed in about five days and your reign of terror will be over, biatch!!!!

Christmas Eve 2007

Christmas Eve was frickin awesome. I will really cherish this memory forever. I have decided to start a new tagged section of my blog, called Awesome Freakin Memories. This will be the inaugural post.

I had to fight some depression on Christmas Eve as the Mackistani was gleefully planning to leave for Florida on 12/26 to play professional tennis for a little while until he's forced to find employment again. But I did manage to fight it off.

And so, I picked up my little blossom from school on Christmas Eve, and we were off to our apartment. Having arrived there, we proceeded to eat something for dinner, but I don't remember what. Dedee wasn't too off her rocker, having spent the whole day at Behave'n having her behavior corrected. :)

After dinner, it was time to find something to do besides watch TV. So, I thought, what should we do? Well, first we wrapped the snowflake ornament that Dedee painted for her *real* Mommy. I tried to teach her something about wrapping stuff. We did a good job. Dedee wrote on the gift tag. To 'Momy' from 'Dedee'. LOL. Yes, she used her new nick. hehehehehehe.

Next up, trying to pass some more time, I thought, hmm, what should we do? Well, Dedee is only seven, so she is still innocent. I love answering her questions about Santa. I have an answer for every question.

'How will Santa get into our apartment?'

• A: I will leave the patio door unlocked. The reindeer will hang out on the roof.
  

'How will Santa know where I am?'

• A: Well, you sent him a letter, right? And didn't we just see him at that party last Saturday?

I forget what else she asked. I should have started this chain of posts long ago. Because she says innocent stuff like this every day!

Anyway, so we decided to track Santa on NORAD's site. Awesome! She loved it and believed every word.

Then we tried to watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on YouTube and also Frosty the Snowman. That went well also.

Then it was time for bed and Dedee was tempted to be naughty, but I reminded her that Santa is stillllll watching. Worked like a charm. Anti-psychotics and melatonin taken, Dedee curled right up for bed. And stayed put.

It's Dedee, Bitch

So my little blossom, no, not an onion blossom, but a flower blossom....has decided most decidedly that she wishes to be called none other than Dedee. And she picked the spelling, so don't blame me.

Now I know I'm not supposed to be spiteful, I'm supposed to be a little angel, a 12 stepping, serene angel, whose serenity nobody can freak with. Gonna try and keep it G rated so that if I decide to de-privatize this blog, I won't look like a big rear opening from which waste is escaping when it's not supposed to be. :)

So anyway, I know I'm supposed to be a little 12 stepping serene angel person, but I'm not, I'm a bitch sometimes, just like anyone else. :) And so, I can't help it but get a slightly warm and fuzzy feeling in the cockles of my little black heart when my sister gets a wee bit irritated that Dedee has chosen this name, and that she was most certainly encouraged in this choice by her ex foster parents, whom my sister despises. Why she despises them, I know not, as they were an awesome family for Dedee.

Oh, probably because she has lost the biggest fight of her life, that of trying to keep her child. And her self-worth is in the shitter. Oh dang it, Compassion and Maturity, go back to your corners, no one wants your boring asses around here!

Snowboarding -- A Sport that is Not For Me

I am not very often inspired to write in my blog anymore. But an update is sometimes required to satisfy the lone reader of my blog.

Frankly, now that the custody stuff is over and the wee one's been adopted, I might just make the blog public again. Perhaps that will inspire more frequent updates, who knows?

I wrote so much better when I was depressed and bitter. The wit flowed right out of my fingertips into the blog. It was amazing.

So I have this new boyfriend. I guess he's not new anymore, since we've been together for nine months now. He is the Mackistani.

The Mackistani is athletic and he wants me to join him in his athletic adventures. I have lost weight but not enough to put on a cute little tennis outfit and run around the court yet. The Mackistani loves tennis.

So he proposes yesterday that we go for an adventure in snowboarding at a local ski area. Oh dear. Wanting to be a sporting type, I agree that it's a *great* idea and, boy, what an adventure that will make!

We suit up and program the GPS and off we go to Mt. Crescent Ski Area in loverly Crestent, Iowa.

Upon arriving, we note that it appears a little run down. We get out of the car and also note that it's notably more frigid here in loverly Crescent, IA. Personally, I was enthralled at being someplace so athletic. There's even snow machines and skiers, which I've only seen on TV! Wow!!!

We depart from the car and walk on up into the 'lodge'. Upon entering, I noted that it was more than a little stinky. This place was amazingly well run-down. The windows were gross, the carpet was worse, and the tables and chairs looked like they came from the breakroom of a greasy telemarketing operation.

The Mackistani uses me as his mouthpiece as he is convinced that his South Asian looks and bearing will probably earn him some discrimination and a bad price to boot. I go up to the desk and talk to the friendly guy there and we eventually sign up for snowboarding lessons, which take about an hour and a half. We sign waivers stating that we understand that snowboarding is a VERY DANGEROUS SPORT. Clue, anyone? After sitting for a while and eating some fries, we go downstairs to get our equipment.

I immediately notice that the ski boots guarantee that your calves will burn, because they are set at an angle and your leg is braced at that angle. I also noted that all the skiers and snowboarders are in good shape and that they have helmets and goggles on. Hmmm. However, I'm delighted that my shoe size is small enough for me to be in the world of normalcy. That is, I can rent a pair of ski boots and be ok. I was also delighted that it was easier for me to figure out the boots than the Mackistani. So there!!!

All suited up and equipped with snowboards, Mack notes that we should go out there and start getting used to our snowboards. Yeah, he's like a kid in a candy shop. I am more like a deer in the headlights. We go out and affix the deathb....I mean snowboards...to our feet. Some happy go lucky dude shows up and I go 'Are you our instructor?' 'Yep, I'll be your instructor for today!' And he starts to instruct us. Seemed like he was the instructor, right? He was INSTRUCTING. I thought he was the instructor, what would you think?

So Mr. Instructor starts INSTRUCTING us outside. First thing he tells us is to make sure that we have the right foot on the right part of the board. We can either be regular footed or goofy footed. WTF? We both discover that we are regular footed. So we have our feet affixed to these things and we slide/fall down the ramp toward the lifts. Neither of us have been on a lift before. We get up there and the lift comes up behind me so I sit down. Soon we're starting to lift off and I look down after I hear Mack screaming. One of his hands is holding onto the lift seat for dear life and his little cherubic face is looking up at me from the ground as he's being dragged!!!! I'm like, "Oh no!' and the lift stops. Mack scrambles onto the seat. We're both happy that we've survived this. Whew!

So we get up there and a sign on the shack says something about preparing to get off the lift. Oh great. Perfect! We step off the lift and prepare to go down this little slide. We both end up flopping onto the ground and soon find a way to get up. I now have a huge shiner on my left leg which is, as I write this 24 hours later, giving off heat!

Here we are at the top of the hill...two people who can barely stay on the snowboards and we're about to go down the same hill that the other skiers go down. The 'instructor' affixes the snowboard to my other foot. I end up snowboarding down the hill at an incredible speed, trying to turn, and then get turned around backward and ending up slamming onto my back with my head bouncing off the snow.

So while Mack and the 'instructor' are up there laughing at me, I'm laying on the ground staring at the sky and I have a moment to ponder this. Should I continue to try and snowboard, which, as I have previously explained, is a VERY DANGEROUS sport? Or should I quit, as I am quite clearly injured?

At this time, I realize that I am now injured and so this will be it for me.

Mack is still trying to get down the hill and trying to learn and he's making progress. That little athlete. I walk down the hill in those hellish f*cking skiboots and am so grateful to finally make it to the lodge, exhausted and seriously hurting. I get the d*mn things off and try to sit down. Luckily, my back is not so injured as to make it impossible to sit. It's just hard to get up and sit down. Movement is a challenge.

Today, the day afterward, my neck and shoulders are stiff as boards, but with the help of ibuprofen, I can move around and not suffer too much. Yay!!!

And, honestly, snowboarding looks fun. I just need to get the hang of it. I am losing weight right now and though it might not be a good idea right at this time, maybe I could snowboard when I more fit. And healed from my injuries.

My Writing Used to Be So Much Funnier

OMG it was so much funnier. Like rapier-sharp funny. What is up with that? Where did my sense of humor go? Now this blog is all just whining. WTF?

Like, there was the post about 'A Food I Shall Endeavor to Never Eat Again', which I was thinking of today because I have A TON of gas. I think Twiggy is actually surreptitiously spraying air freshener in my cube. Every so often after I let one loose, I'll catch a whiff of something that smells like frickin roses.

See, the thing is that I used to not care about this stuff or I thought it was kinda funny. No longer, friend. I'm not sure what changed, but I am kinda concerned that I may be known in the department as a gas-bag or something. :o( That would suck. Combine that with being overweight, and you get the stereotypical gross fat person stereotype thingy. Ugh, I gotta get some Gas-X. This will actually dovetail nicely with my plan to finally get my flex spending account debit card back. It's not really going my way so far, which I shall post about soon.

Then there was the post about my cube being changed so people can see me. Do you realize that that happened in August 2006 and it was changed in November or October 2007 - over a year later? That post even had a drawing.

Aw God, I have gas again. Dangit! Where the heck is all this coming from? It can't be the lentils, can it? The pokoras? Maybe the stuff that one covers the pokoras with -- the chickpea flour. Yes, I did say chickpea flour - you can indeed grind up anything and call it flour, apparently. That lady who wrote about hiding the spinach in the cookies should have talked to a PAkistani or Indian person and she'd have learned quick that you can hide good stuff anywhere if you fry it in veggie oil and add salt. Well, broccoli probably wouldn't go over too well that way.

Anyway, why on God's green earth would a parent go through a complicated, super secret recipe in order to hide spinach in the cookies? Only wussy parent have to do that. The rest of us, who are not wussies, command our children to eat their veggies and those same children will starve to death before they get ice cream prior to eating their veggies. Again, I cite the child-worshipping society that we now find ourselves living in.