Dec 4, 2009

The dawn of day

What a difference sleep makes.
Either that or I need Lithium.
I must not write when I come home from work.
I am still in SuperBitch mode.
Sitting here with my cup of coffee
in my robe that has too many holes
I become me again.
Why is the early am.
the best part of the day?
Yes, plus I have yet to encounter anyone to fuck up my day.
God Bless the early am.

Something to ponder.

The depth and strength of a human character are defined by its moral reserves. People reveal themselves completely only when they are thrown out of the customary conditions of their life, for only then do they have to fall back on their reserves. Leon Trotsky

I came upon this quote and it made me think. When you or I are put in a strange situation, you do reveal yourself. I see it everyday in our "new" society. I worked with a woman the other day who was in tears and begged the owner to stay because she hadn't made enough money to buy dinner for her family. Her tears were very real. I am starting to get angry. Are you getting angry? What the fuck has happened to our country? I am a survivor. Some people aren't. Whatever it takes I will do to make sure I don't sink on this ship. A guest told me tonight that there are two types of people, Bitches and Victims. Sadly I am seeing that mentality grow. I don't like it. I am one of those silly girls who still believes in humanity. I am starting to feel alone in my beliefs. How about you?

Dec 3, 2009

Another day, another dollar...blah blah blah

Don't have to go to work til 5pm today, yay..Talked to the one manager yesterday about the Mayor of our city. She got found guilty. $600 worth of gift cards. He brought up a good point. How much it cost the city (taxpayers) to prosecute her. Way more than $600. His point was that there is so much more corruption in our city that the money wasn't well spent. They could have just made her resign and save us a bunch of money. He is probably right. The natives of my city are restless. The McDonalds across the street got robbed yesterday morning. Than on my way to work I stopped at RiteAid to put minutes on my phone. They were all winded from running after a shoplifter. People are getting brazen. No fear of consequences. The owner of my restaurant I believe is from Persia. He told me if you get caught stealing there you get your hand cut off. He also said their crime rate is pretty much nil. A customer overheard our discussion. He thinks that the values our grandparents and before had a set of values that have eroded over the years. People don't want to work anymore. My brother in law has worked only 5 months since his release from prison. He has been collecting unemployment for over a year now. $1200 a month. Yet I go to work every day. I have never collected unemployment. I was raised thankfully with a work ethic. Even in my addiction days I still went to work. The only help I get is food stamps, which without I would not be able to pay my astronomical rent. This city is getting colder and meaner as everyday goes by. I miss my old Baltimore. We were hard working folks. We were civilized. Santa stands in front of Wal-Mart ringing his bell and his bucket is almost empty. People don't have it anymore. We used to donate to the food bank every month. I can't afford it now. My friend collects coats every winter. I give old clothes to the shelters. I don't know how else to help. People are hungry, cold and homeless. Alot of them are mental health patients. They need help beyond a coat and a meal, but it does help put a bandaid on their aches for a day. I am starting to wonder if we have let things get too far gone in this country of ours. Is the damage repairable?

Dec 1, 2009

Me and you

It used to be me and you.
You were the steadying hand,
always present on my lower back.
Your hand is gone.
My boat is rocking.
I am adrift.
No anchor.
This world is very frightening without you.
When I met you, you said,
"These arms are here for you, no matter what, to hold you"
When you were dying,
your arms rubbed my back and told me I was going to be ok.
I believe you are finally at peace.
I'm not.
Thank you for loving me.

Nov 29, 2009


Just wanted to let everyone know that I had to enable the word verification do-hicky for comments as in the last week I have been recieving quite a bit of spam type comments. So I know it's a pain in the butt, I just went with that option because those comments are incredibly annoying. Work is over with now for two days. Time for bed..Have a blessed night.

Meet my aunt..

I do have a real writer in the family. Her name is Catherine Hamm. She writes the travel column for the LA Times. This article I am posting is the true story of her honeymoon to my uncle. I am so proud. My uncle is very special and dear to me, and he was a widower for many years, until he met and married my Aunt Cat. So you readers are specail to me, and I would like you to meet the real writer in my family...Here she is-

A different journey than bride bargained for
After a Hawaiian rental goes awry, The Times travel editor tracks the agent and her alleged many lives.
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A Texas man said Amanda J. George gave him this photo, showing her with Robert Downey Jr., left, Woody Harrelson and Keanu Reeves on the set of the film "A Scanner Darkly." He said she told him she was a screenwriter.

By Catharine Hamm
November 26, 2009

Text Size

I knew her only as Amanda, and the more I learned about her life, the more surreal it seemed.

Part of it read like a fairy tale: A smart, pretty girl flees her Alaska home, meets a Scottish aristocrat and falls in love. They marry, move into a manor house and have three children.

But that was only one of the lives she'd led.

Her incarnations were varied: Hollywood screenwriter. Concierge to the stars. Rental agent for exclusive Hawaiian vacation homes.

Acquaintances say she had butter-smooth charm and uncanny powers of persuasion. But her most valuable asset may have been the anonymity of the Internet, at least until an electronic forum enabled those who had crossed paths with her to trade information.

One of her alleged victims, a bride intent on her own fairy-tale wedding, spent a year following leads and piecing together Amanda's past.

I was that bride, but in the end, I took no pleasure when she landed behind bars.

Mine was a later-in-life attachment, with none of the trappings of royalty. Carl and I met at a Christmas party in 2003, and a romance developed, slowly but steadily. We continued to live apart until a health scare prompted us to take the plunge. We set a May 2008 wedding date and asked a wedding planner to find a venue close to my childhood home on Oahu.

About three weeks before the big day, plans for the place we had chosen fell through, and the planner asked the caterer for help. The caterer's assistant surfed the Web and found an ideal setting.

When I saw pictures of Kailua Palm House on Oahu, I immediately fell in love. Coleman Wiggins was listed as the rental agency, and the agent's name was Amanda.

In e-mails and phone conversations, Amanda told us that, because time was short, I would have to wire the money to the homeowner's bank account in Tyler, Texas. I sent the funds -- $2,750 for a two-day rental, plus a $2,000 cleaning deposit.

A few days later, I e-mailed Amanda to ask for the address of the house and a signed copy of the rental agreement.

"Of course," came the reply.

Then silence. Our wedding planner e-mailed Amanda but got no response.

By May 4, 12 days before the wedding, I was getting queasy. The planner called Amanda, who said she was in a taxicab in New York and her cellphone was about to go dead. She said she would call back.


On May 9, the planner sent an e-mail threatening legal action. The planner and the caterer got Amanda on the phone. She hung up on them.

Four days before the wedding, we found another venue, and I put the bill on my credit card, despite a 2% premium. If I had done that earlier, I would have been protected by the Fair Credit Billing Act and wouldn't have lost my money.

On our wedding day, the humiliation of having been ripped off hung over Carl and me. I wondered how I could have been such a fool. As travel editor at the Los Angeles Times, I constantly counsel readers to keep their wits and wallets about them. I had failed to follow my own advice.

After our short honeymoon, I contacted the Honolulu Police Department, the Internet Crime Complaint Center and Southside Bank in Tyler, which turned my case over to the Smith County Sheriff's Department.

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