Billy Jean and some more shit...

I understand that Michael Jackson has passed away.
What I don't comprehend is all the interest in his death.
Every news magazine and tabloid is all about him.
Yes, I used to enjoy some of his music.
That was pretty much it.
There are plenty of eccentric folks everywhere, so his personal antics,
they never interested me.
Many things of importance are currently going on in this big world of ours.
I just don't know where daily updates on him are that worthy
of print.
Plus, there is all this "shock" at the numerous medications
and presriptions etc.
That is not news folks.
That is what it is.
So now the witch hunt has started for the horrid doctors that prescribed
him everything and anything.
In the end, he was the one who made the choice to ingest any medications.
So to me, he was responsible and only him for taking them.
He drug-seeked and he found.
That just doesn't seem newsworthy on a daily basis.
I want to read about what is going to happen to my healthcare, the housing situation,
anything and everything except about him.
Whatever happened to rest in peace?

Another day, another dollar I hope..

I see the economy getting worse daily everytime I punch in. People are not spending $22.00 for a steak as often as they did even three months ago. They are now ordering off the lunch menu for dinner instead. They are drinking water instead of iced tea or sodas. Requesting extra plates of our complementary bread. I understand it, but at the end of the shift as I count my dollars, understanding it doesn't help when I am trying to buy groceries at Wal-Mart. I watch the young girls with babies that I work with getting excited about their housing vouchers. They are moving into their new two bedroom apartments for $44 a month. The one girl is on baby number two. She gets WIC, Food Stamps etc...What the fuck am I doing wrong in life? The most frustrating thing is these girls all move their "baby's daddy's" into these new $44 a month apartments. These men don't work. Forgive me for being rude, but it almost seems like a reward. Have unprotected sex, get free food and cheap housing. Oh yeah, and continue to live with the idiot that got you pregnant in the first place and he too, can get a cheap roof over his head. Boggles my little mind.

Anger

With the early am. sun I realized I am angry at you.
What? Did you think it would be the same here without you?
Wrong!
You were my buddy to laugh with, you got my Deliverance jokes.
Now I am living the damn movie.
Alone.
There is no one to do "The Happy Dance" with...
The dance we did when the bills were paid and we had a few extra dollars.
Baggy Pants has no one to REALLY talk to.
For some strange reason he thinks you gave better advice.
Go figure.
My mother commented that "I am morose to be around"
Well exscuse fucking me!
I am trying.
I put my makeup on everyday, my happy face and go to work.
I am learning to speak local without sounding sarcastic.
I just wish I knew why I am so angry with you at the strangest times.
Is it because you left me alone and promised never to do that?
I know you didn't do it on purpose, but it still stings.
I am trying, I swear I am, to keep attaining all of our goals.
I will fight the good fight.
I will try to laugh instead of cry.
I will NOT get a confederate flag for the front of "our" house.
Sorry toots...I draw the line there.
I am missing you today.

Strange Days

I must admit to being very lax about blogging these days as I have found three books that I have been reading from cover to cover. It's been awhile that anything has sustained my interest to keep me away from my precious computer. The first book I finished was called Glass, it's a series of books by an author who's own daughter had a horrid struggle with methamphetamine. She also wrote another book called Crank and than there are two others, the one I am reading is about 3 different people in a mental institution, two from addiction, one is a cutter. They are the most realistic books I have read in awhile. The other one I am reading now is from my friend Lou and it is called Cost. I had forgotten the pleasure of being curled up with a nice blanket and a good book. Reading has actually been helping me quite a bit with the blues of life. When I gaze in the mirror I see a 42 year old woman, now a widow, with a teenage son and a mother who is in the beginning stages of dementia. Thank God for the dog. Animals are the best healers at times. So here is to warm fuzzy blankets, good books and warm fuzzy dogs.

Sorry...

I wish everyone knew how much that one word can mean. Sorry. Sadly some people use it way too much and don't mean it. Years ago a man I loved very much got down on his knees, tears streaming down his face. I saw guilt and pain and shame. I also saw love. He uttered two words- "I'm Sorry"...I weighed 98lbs. I am 5"8. He was sobbing. He was trying to apologize for introducing me to the devil. He didn't know that I was already hard-wired to fall in love with the devil. He scooped me up and drew me a hot bath. I hadn't showered in two days. He lathered my hair and washed every nook and cranny of my body. He fed me bananas and orange juice. I couldn't walk. I was hallucinating. I was exhausted. I healed over time. When I close my eyes I still hear and feel those two words, "I'm sorry". The reason I feel them is because when they were said, they were meant.

Changing Roles

Every night around 3am. my youngest son creeps into my room and makes sure I am all the way in the bed and under the covers and sleeping well and peacefully. He proves a point that I have always believed. It's not what you say, it's what you do. Peace.

Friday Flash 55- Unconditional

You let me grow.
You let me make mistakes.
I needed help beyond what you were capable of.
You were the knight on the white horse.
I was the junky princess.
What a pair.
You saved my life, not once,
but three times.
You fought for me.
I thank you for loving me way too much.