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Taking Suggestions

My well has run dry, folks. I am out of ideas about what to write here. Life is Good, no major crisis, so don’t worry on that account. I’m just having trouble with Writer’s Block, I think.

What would you like me to write about?

 
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Posted by on February 9, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

Another Anniversary

Sigh. Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of The Kid moving in with me. I smiled and wished him “Happy Anniversary!” Last night and he just gave a grunt. I know he’s not happy about the situation, but no one is going to come knocking on the door offering him wads of money for simply breathing, so he better get out there and find something before I do something drastic.

Mom and I were talking about The Kid the other night and agreed this situation is very much like my childhood – dad lived in his own little world (although not as shut off as The Kid) doing his hobbies, out in his room or shed, while Mom worked two jobs to make ends meet. You see, my dad couldn’t work just any job – he needed to be “inspired” and “fulfilled” and ordinary jobs just wouldn’t cut it for him.

I remember being angry about the situation as a teen – Mom would leave early for her day job and arrive home as my sister and I were coming home from school, then she would leave again for a night job several days a week. It would have been different if dad had done all the housework and been a real house-husband, but my sis and I did the chores while he did…nothing much.

He was also a passive-aggressive asshole who used the silent treatment constantly as punishment. My memories are a bit blurred, honestly, but I’m sure his personality influenced my attitude towards men in general and husbands in particular. Thank all that’s holy he and Mom are divorced – I don’t think I could speak to him without giving him an earful about what an asshole he was and I don’t even care who might hear me.

Wow. This is going off the rails.

I got a job as soon as the ink was dry on my work permit and I’ve worked at something constantly ever since. I resent supporting an able-bodied man who refuses to do whatever is necessary to support his family. Granted, The Kid doesn’t have any people to be responsible for, but he could collect enough cans and bottles each month to pay his cell phone bill at least!

He’s lazy, sloppy, and irresponsible. He was not raised this way and has never known his grandpa, yet here we are. His father didn’t work much, but he didn’t know him, either. Those two men are the only men in his family tree that did not work to support their families – a perfect Nature vs. Nurture argument, if one is so inclined, and I am :-)

Anyway. I’m angry. I’m disappointed. I’m irritated by his constant presence in My Space. Towanda was supposed to be a Penis Free Zone. I was never going to smell someone else’s feet or cooking smells or B.O. While I still have ultimate control over the things that matter, I have no privacy or freedom. Sure, having a built-in dog-sitter is nice, but I can live without that just fine.

I ran an idea past Mom and I think she liked it: When the weather changes, The Kid will go to Grandma’s house to turn over her yard. She has Big Plans for some changes and they need a strong back and a shovel, both of which The Kid has – he was trained to use a shovel at a young age (WTF hasn’t he taken a job digging ditches or something, then? Oh, wait! That’s not “fulfilling” work!) so he will have lots of time to contemplate his next move while he moves dirt. Mom hates to paint, so that should be added to her list of things for him to do – inside and out, whatever she needs done. He also cleans but needs to be supervised so he doesn’t cut corners. I want her to use him like a rented mule! I just don’t have enough physical labor to keep him busy and exhausted.

Next, I think he should go stay with my sister for a week or two and deep clean and paint her house – she and her husband both work long hours and just don’t have time to do as much as they would like to. He’s a pretty great cook, so dinners should be included in his chores – they deserve to be able to relax in the evening.

My hope is that he would see the value in working and some of the work ethic of his family might rub off onto him and spur him into making a move towards an independent life. Sis lives in Portland, so he’d be back near his old turf where he might have better luck finding a job.

I dunno. I do know I’ve had enough. I can’t seem to motivate him and everyone says it would be cruel to just put him out on the street while the weather is so bad, so there he sits, on my couch, breathing my air, sucking the life right out of me.

I am SO DONE with this Mom Gig!

What would YOU do?

 
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Posted by on February 4, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

I almost forgot…

…and that is a wonderful thing!

Today marks three years narc-free! In some ways it’s been the best year of my adult life, in some ways not so good, but I’m still here, still kicking ass and taking names. Thank you all for continuing to read my little stories.

While I had hoped to have my life more settled in some ways, having The Kid living with me has put a serious crimp in my plans because I don’t trust him not to do something stupid. He hasn’t had a relapse in awhile, but he still refuses to attend any AA meetings or seek counseling in any form. He spends his evenings on my couch* looking at his phone, typing away (this brings back unpleasant memories for me!) and giving minimal answers to my questions unless I get really annoying and start pestering him.

He does not have a job or, as far as I can tell, any prospects, either. I am slowly losing my shit. Short of going out and finding him a job myself, I don’t know what to do. I may get angry again when the weather gets warmer and just kick him out into the street because his apathy is unacceptable. He does not seem depressed, just inert.

On a “good” note, I’ve taken to calling him Juan the Houseboy because he has become fairly consistent with chores. I clean my bedroom, but he takes care of pretty much everything else, which is nice, but not worth having his brooding presence on my couch 24/7. Kinda thought the new nickname would shame him, but he seems confused more than anything. Sigh. Awana says he’s the Dysfunctional Man I can’t seem to escape for long. That hurt a little, but she’s totally right.

In other news, I have reached the State of Meh regarding the narc. The Boy is long gone – prison for the next 20 years, likely** – I know how to pick ’em! Work is good. My creative energy is returning after being on hold to deal with The Kid’s crisis. I’ve joined the local Arts Guild and have put some of my creations in their Store where I work one shift a week and do a bunch of online stuff for them.

One thing I didn’t think would happen is that I’ve been sharing my story with people. I’m fascinated with their reaction and the floodgates my story sometimes opens about their own life. I’ve met a few very interesting people through the Guild and some online connections and find myself eager to write again. Maybe edit my book, maybe start a new one. Inspiration is around every corner and I want to throw it back like a Margarita on a hot day.

One thing that has become abundantly clear is that I do not belong in this Small Town. The people who interest me are from Away or live in much more liberal cities, causing me to start to wonder about relocating to get a little more Culture into my life. I refuse to do anything while The Kid is living with me, however – I am not gonna be that Mama who says, “My son still lives with me. He’s 45…” even if I have to put him out on his ass. Mama needs some Alone Time! Mama needs to be around Grown-Ups! Mama may just do something desperate…

Anyway. Sabu is still a Bad Dog. The cat is still an asshole. The Other Boss is retiring at the end of the year, signaling the end of an era – he’s been like a Guardian Angel for me where work is concerned and I’ll miss the extra income. Everything changes but everything stays the same.

Melissa from the court case that should never have happened contacted me a few weeks ago. She’d just gotten out of rehab and has moved in with long-time family friends and is doing well. She wanted to thank me for testifying on her behalf and we became friends on FB. Her posts show her in good health, taking it day by day. I wish her all the luck in the world and hope her life becomes all she wants it to be.

I do find myself with one regret this year – that I shared this blog with some people I know IRL. That’s a terrible thing to say, but I have censored posts and not posted some parts of my struggle just to avoid conflict in my Real Life and I don’t like that one bit. I started out here anon and back when my anger was hot as a thousand fiery suns I wanted to shout from the rooftops and didn’t care who knew, but it’s caused some problems I never expected and now I feel like I have to mind my words and it’s killing my Blog Mojo. I’ve done what I always do in this situation – started another blog. Or maybe three. I’m becoming fractured again in some ways, but I need to write it all out or lose my mind, and I can’t do that here.

* I was talking with one of the gals at work about dogs being on the couch and another co-worker suggested a “scat mat” and I found myself wondering aloud if it would work on people…Go ahead and think it – I’m a terrible person. I won’t hold it against you :-)

** No, being with me and landing in prison are not connected!

 
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Posted by on January 20, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

How to deal with the neighborhood drug dealer

A few months ago I posted a little bit about Drug Dealing Dave (DDD from here on out) and my frustration that Management at the Park refused to do anything about his obvious trafficking.

I may have mentioned in previous posts that Noreen, half of the “management team” at the park – that’s a story for another day – has Meth Face. Her teeth are broken and she has the look of a long-time meth user but she’s never appeared high in my presence and I never asked, feeling that if she was in recovery she might not want to talk about it.

She and her husband became fast friends with DDD right off the bat. I pointed out the Tweaker Parades back when the weather was warm and got only a lukewarm response out of Noreen. I pointed out the car traffic going back to DDD’s trailer and complained about his coming and going at all hours of the night, waking me up.

“He drives a taxi,” was Noreen’s reply.

Uh…I don’t think so. Not in his jacked-up mini-truck with the loud muffler and ridiculous big tires. Not in a million years. And anyway, what kind of taxi driver leaves at 0200 and returns at 0210? Suuuuuuurrrrrreeeeee….I was not buying that line at all.

After my complaint about the noise of DDD’s truck, his nighttime trips became more quiet, but didn’t stop, so I knew I had to do something more drastic. An online search led me to print out a bunch of “suspicious activity” reports which I handed out to the Mrs. Kravitz’ in the park. Conveniently, they live right near DDD and are retired. I instructed them to write down everything they saw, including license plate numbers, and when the sheet was full, to call the Sheriff out. The Sheriff was asked again and again why they didn’t make an arrest, but it seems there wasn’t enough evidence. They knew all about DDD but for whatever reason they did nothing – that pisses me off.

It wasn’t long before the Sheriff was a regular presence in the park. Park Rules state that if the police are called to your “unit” three times, you’re out, no more chances. That rule was bent for DDD and he changed his tactics. The traffic changed from cars to young people with backpacks – they would come in with a pack on, stop at DDD’s and leave with a different backpack.

Now, you could argue that maybe he’s just a friendly guy who the local kids like, right? Nuh-uh! There is no earthly reason for teenagers to be dropping by a single man’s trailer for a few minutes and then leaving. Unless they’re engaged in some sort of illicit activity, but Noreen would not be convinced. Okie-dokie, then!

The Mrs. Kravitz’ continued their work and I waited for something to happen. I would have participated more actively, but I work and couldn’t see DDD’s trailer from mine.

And then one day Noreen was out walking with the owner of the park. He’s 94 and doesn’t get out much, but on that day he was feeling good. Mrs. Kravitz #1 stopped him and Noreen on their walk and asked what was going to be done about the drug dealer. He, of course, knew nothing about it. Noreen tried to drag him away, but Mrs. Kravitz #1 would not be deterred. She’s lived in the Park for 15 years and always been upfront with everyone (to the point of being a bitch, but sometimes it gets things done) so he knew she wasn’t making shit up.

“Give him a 24-hour notice! Now!” he commanded, and just like that DDD was forced to move. He’s now in a little park near where I work, so I see him on occasion. He’s parked right next to another former park member, Kyle, who DDD got kicked out on trumped up complaints. Funny they’re neighbors again :-)

Noreen is avoiding me now. Won’t let me get close enough to look into her eyes. I suspect she and her husband were customers of DDD and really liked having a supply so close at hand. Meth is a big problem in my little town, as are opiates, or so I hear. I’m fed up with it! The only way to get it out of our neighborhoods is if we stand together and insist they move on. If they can’t be prosecuted, it’s the next best thing since there’s no Open Season on them…

 

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Thanks for the referral!

Shoutout to GladysKravitz on the Babycenter Community who posted a link to this here little blog about narcissists and what it can take to get away from them. If you’ve arrived here from there, here’s a link for you to start with. Remember that the entries are in reverse chronological order…

Thank you for the booming stats, Gladys :-)

Meanwhile, there’s a lot going on here, no time to write, it’s all good, no worries, anniversary coming up (I know!) blog post soon-ish.

Oh, and Hook, thanks for reading and reminding me I need to get some updates here! :-)

 
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Posted by on January 11, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

Multiple Updates

Crazy Dog Lady and the court case that shouldn’t have happened:

Three days before Mom and I were to appear in court, the DA’s assistant finally called and scheduled a time for me to talk to the DA and ask if Mom and I wanted a hotel room so we didn’t have to drive home after testifying on Friday the 13th. Of course we accepted (they would pay.) She didn’t call at the appointed hour, so I called her. Obviously she hadn’t read the statement I gave to the police or she would not have subpoenaed me.

After a short chat she decided the prosecution would not be calling me, they would not pay for a hotel room (although I could “stay with mom” if I wanted to) and she rang off. I immediately called the defense attorney to clarify what I needed to do – the basic plan was not altered. I got some more details about the case and was in a bit of a fury before I even left town.

What it comes down to is this: Holly (the woman on foot) accused Melissa (the woman in the car) of many horrible things, including firing a gun at her. At the time of Melissa’s arrest, the police did not do a GSR test! OMFG! Wouldn’t you think if someone is accused of firing a gun at someone inside a very small house, the authorities would perform a Gunshot Residue Test? That shit is harder to get rid of than glitter, so a GSR test would at least have proven there was no gun and maybe put Holly’s accusations in a new light, but no, Melissa was arrested and held in the County Jail for four months until she could be brought to trial under Measure 14 Laws, which come with very long mandatory sentences – Melissa was looking at 20 years in prison if convicted.

I’ll admit I was stunned by the whole thing. I hadn’t known Melissa was in jail, nor what the charges were. I’m baffled that three trained law enforcement officials couldn’t see that Holly was making shit up. I mean, her rambling story, changing timeline (at one point she said she ran out of the house in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt, but recanted when it was revealed that the officers each wore a video camera and she was clearly dressed in jeans, lace-up boots and sleeveless shirt and not a bit disheveled) obvious meth trip, weird gestures, I mean, she was plainly high and acting on a stage in her own world. You’d think trained officers would have taken that into consideration, right?

The prosecution took forever to get a jury seated and then dragged out the testimony so that Mom and CDL testified after lunch on Friday. CDL went into the courtroom, said her piece and then left. Mom then went inside while I waited on the bench outside the courtroom (no witnesses were allowed inside until after they’d testified.) The DA was not at all happy to see me there when she came out to get Mom and neither was Holly, who came out accompanied by a rather large, authoritative woman who held her by the elbow. Holly’s eyes met mine and I tried to convey with my glare that Melissa was not going down for this bullshit if it was in my power to stop it. She paled visibly and hurried on by.

Because of the poor time management on the part of the prosecution, I would need to return to Newport (two hours one way, remember) to testify the following Tuesday. No idea about time, so I promised to be in Newport by 0900, on standby until it was my turn.

So I did some shopping and watched the weather steadily deteriorate the longer I was in town. A storm was on the way and the wind was blowing the rain sideways by the time I was called to testify at 3:30.

I told the court what I saw, but was not allowed to do more than answer the questions put to me, with the DA jumping up and objecting every time I said I knew what a tweeker looks and acts like. Not even my personal experience with meth addicts was allowed.

I stayed after my testimony to hear what else was said and was quite surprised. Not only did the police NOT do a GSR test, there were two other people in the house who testified that there was no gunshot and that Melissa had in fact never owned a gun to their knowledge. It’s a pretty close-packed neighborhood and none of the neighbors heard a gunshot.

Melissa took the stand and was also limited in regards to what she was allowed to say. Turns out she and Holly had been together for 15 years, Melissa earning the money and Holly disappearing for weeks at a time doing drug-related god-knows-what and then crawling back to Melissa, who always took her back. Sigh. It’s classic, really, so common as to be a cliche. They’d been forced to move every 6 months or so because of similar incidents, traveling from California to Newport over the space of a few years.

The whole incident was sparked by Melissa breaking off the relationship and asking for Holly’s house keys. Melissa writes code for HP, which is the only thing that surprised me.

I asked the defense attorney to let me know what happened and I headed home on the most nightmarish drive I’ve had yet this year – very high winds, heavy rain, lots of debris on the road and everyone wanted to drive 65 mph on a road that’s best suited to 45 on a nice, sunny day. I hate that drive with a passion that I can’t even describe.

The next week CDL sends me an email:

 I wonder what the outcome of the trial will be. I’m sorry the whole thing was such a drag for you and took up so much of your time.

She knew I was furious with her – she couldn’t even identify Melissa in the courtroom! AND she’d tried to hijack me when I came over the first time and make me do computer work for her and I said no, repeatedly, until Mom and I got out of there.

I responded with:

Melissa was acquitted of all but a couple of misdemeanor charges. She spent four months in jail and lost her rental house because of Holly’s bullshit. She will not be compensated in any way, not even an apology. She can (and should, in my opinion) sue in civil court for wrongful imprisonment, but I don’t know if she will.

Holly will face no charges for perjury, false accusations or theft, which is unfortunate because she went back to Melissa’s house on 5 or 6 occasions (there were witnesses and they testified in court) and stole Melissa’s TVs, work computer and various personal items – to sell for drugs, no doubt. Nor will she face charges for stealing Melissa’s car and taking it out to the woods and trashing it because there isn’t sufficient evidence, only her trademark Squirt bottle in the back – obviously she’d been in the car as she and Melissa had been a couple for 15 years, so that argument won’t wash.

There was no gun. There were no marks on Holly. There were two other people in the house when the “attack” happened, and they saw and heard nothing. It was all made up by Holly because Melissa broke up with her.

It was a waste of time, but only because charges were brought in the first place. If I hadn’t testified, Melissa was looking at a possible 20 year prison term. We all should be terrified to know that a tweeker can make false accusations and have an innocent person put in jail for MONTHS based on no physical evidence at all. Our great justice system at work. Not!

I’m very pissed off about this and we probably shouldn’t talk about it again.

The next morning she sends this:

Sounds like you need to get away from it all. How about coming out to just relax this weekend? If not then, let me know what will work for you.

What the fuck? I had told her I was not making that drive again until Spring, that I have a million things to do, a huge project at work (which I’m currently working at very hard, obviously) and there is no way in hell I’m coming over there to “relax,” but she is just not getting the message. I told her no, as nicely as I could, teeth gritted with every keystroke, and that should bloody well have been that.

But no! This arrived in my inbox on Wednesday, along with requests to update some stuff online for her:

Hope you can find a weekend or anytime to come here and rest for a few…

I just don’t know what I have to say to make her leave me the fuck alone. I know, I know, I set myself up for this when I agreed to trade dog treats for computer work, but we agreed in the beginning that I would get her set up and she would take over as she learned to Do Stuff and I would no longer be needed except for occasional questions, so it’s all my fault, but shit. When I can’t help her she calls the Newport library and has them do Google searches for her and advise her on the best way to do things. She even makes appointments to drive up there and sit with someone in the library to fill out forms and such. Unbelievable!

And now I’m outta time, so the rest of the story will have to wait…

Hope you all had a great Turkey Day!

 
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Posted by on November 30, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

Irritating Weekend

I don’t know how much more I can take. Crazy Dog Lady has been pressuring me to come over and solve her computer problems since the last time I was there, back in July. I finally set a date and told her this would be the last trip until after Winter because I am not driving that route in the pouring down rain or snow. Of course, I have to go back in a few weeks for my Court Appearance (provided the case goes to court, that is) but the weekend was supposed to get her all sorted and moving forward again. Sigh.

I really have too many things on my plate right now to justify taking time off to drive two hours (one way) but I know she has no other way to get things ironed out and I try to be a Good Person and not gripe about it too much, but this time very nearly ended with me driving home, never to speak to CDL again.

You see, when I got there she had company. Nevermind that I was “scheduled” to be there and stay in her cottage and we’d had plans for a couple of weeks. She’d double-booked! Okay, fine, it was her niece and she had to leave in a couple of hours anyway. CDL is easily distracted and I had planned to be out of there by noon on Sunday – if we wasted time “visiting” the computer stuff would not get done and I would get progressively more irritated the longer she forced me to stay.

Fine. CDL insisted we take Donna for a walk in the woods since she’s from California and evidently they don’t have woods there? Srsly? I hate hiking. Sabu is not a well behaved dog, and now we’re gonna turn her and her pals loose in the woods? Sure. That couldn’t go wrong….

I changed shoes and we piled into two cars (Sabu can’t ride in CDL’s car and she won’t let any other dogs ride in hers so every time I’m over there we have to drive separately which is a total PITA) and off we went. CDL drives like a maniac but I followed and we made it. Then it’s downhill, uphill, more downhill to the creek and throwing sticks for the dogs to chase. Sabu doesn’t chase sticks. At all. Sabu wallows in the creek and races up and down the trail until she can’t move because she is now an Old Lady Dog. It went better than I thought it would as far as Sabu was concerned but by the time we’d hiked back to the cars I was panting and sore and ready for a nap. No one had mentioned hiking so I hadn’t brought proper shoes and let me tell you, tall muck boots are not made for hiking in the woods!

Then we had to have lunch. Meh. It wasn’t great and there wasn’t a spot in the shade to park my car, making me anxious for Sabu but it was a cool day.

Donna left after lunch and CDL insisted we take the dogs to run on the beach because Sunday’s weather forecast called for rain & wind. Sigh. Okay, fine. We went to the beach but Sabu was pretty much done at that point. CDLs dogs were fairly well behaved but I was not enjoying the gale-force winds whipping sand into my eyes one bit.

We got back to the house and CDL asked me if I wanted to go outside and sit in the sun. Wha….??? I told her it was way to windy for that. Well, she knows a place where we can sit in the sun out of the wind…Uh…no.

And then she nearly slayed me.

“We need to get started on the computer stuff, don’t you think? It’s already after 3:00 and I’m not gonna stay up until 2 AM like you do….” I said.

“I don’t need any computer stuff done,” she replied. “I thought you should come over and relax. Have a vacation!”

She was taken aback at the sight of my eyes bugging out of my head.

“Relax?!?!?!?” I stammered. “I don’t have time to relax! I have four hundred things that need to be done before Winter sets in For Real and relaxing is not one of them!”

I was furious. I tried to recover and not sound like a total bitch, but I had so many other ways to spend my time. Gaaaahhhhhhh!!!

I did my best to be cheerful and get some stuff done, but it was not fun. At all.

While we were chatting at the computer, trying to get some files copied onto a thumb drive, she mentioned that she had someone else “helping” her with the online stuff and couldn’t find her phone number and would I look through the emails so we could call her Sunday morning at 9:30? Uh-huh. CDL doesn’t get up that early, but whatever.

I looked through the emails and discovered that CDL had been emailing with this woman from Arkansas for almost three weeks and that she’d sent all her passwords to her! WTF?!? I reserved judgement until the phone call, which happened late, as CDL was not up when she said she would be and in fact I had to wake her up to make the call. Sigh. I was most unhappy at that point and the rain was falling down sideways already and I was not looking forward to the drive home.

Anyway, turns out this woman has no clue about anything internet related and could not make sense of CDL’s password email. I was suspicious of her going in and she only confirmed my reservations the more we all talked – she was on speaker, of course, so no translations would be necessary.

I was rather gruff with her and refused to give her unlimited access to CDL’s website or Facebook account and I know CDL was put off by that, but I explained later that she doesn’t know this woman, and based on what I heard this woman has no clue what she’s doing. AND CDL is paying her $10 an hour! In fact, she’s already sent her $60, because, “she doesn’t know me, so I had to prove I’m willing to pay her – you wouldn’t work for free, would you?”

Right. I said, “No employer in the world gives people money BEFORE they’ve done any work, and no one in their right mind just hands over the keys to their online life to a perfect stranger!”

Gaaaahhhhhhh!!!

I know some people would praise CDL for being so trusting, but this will end badly, mark my words…

The drive home was every bit as nasty as I thought it would be and I was relieved to get home at last.

The Kid is eager to redeem himself and was sober when I arrived. I’d set him to painting Towanda’s interior and he’s doing a good job. Not as quick as I’d like but I’m not paying him, so it’s fine. The change of color is refreshing and the insulating stuff added to the paint should make Winter a little bit more bearable.

It is SOOOOO Monday!

 
 
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