Sacramento Days.....

It is one of those days where, if I was a normal human being, I would be living in a normal area and working at a normal job. Instead, I am a writer, in a bar writing, while watching Venus & Serena Williams beat some kids up on the tennis court, drinking a Margarita (very heavy on the tequila).

Yay!


Tomorrow, I am supposed check into the hospital for test to see why my intestines are bleeding high up & why I can't seem to eat anything, but still manage to live. Maybe, I just have good genes and a strong desire to live or I just don't feel like dealing with the healthy habits of every Oprah induced health expert out there. Too many rules makes life very boring.

I suppose there are those who wish such wonders happen to them as often as possible. I can name at least three relatives who would call Barbara Walters for an exclusive on the View with such news.

I prefer to drink my occasion in tequila and then maybe on to a good whiskey. Hopefully, I won't to end up taking my Housewife legal drugs.
Those are the pills doctors tend to give every housewife who complains enough about any pain they feel they currently have, including certain husbands who tend to get on their nerves. I currently am pretty happy with my Honey, so my problem is more actual pain than head trips. Housewife drugs usually consist of various pain pills and anti-depressants that are supposed to keep one happy.
For me its a legal way to get over the painful hump for a day or two, then back to the same Grand Rapids excitement as always. Hooray.... ?

As for what's been happening, lately.

We went to Sacramento a couple of weeks ago for a weekend. We weren't going to go, but the ghost in the house insisted that it was necessary to go check on Bob's mother.

Thank God we followed through and found her health to be in question. Now we have to plan on going back every few months for a weekend or week to check on her. Not sure we will actually be welcome back (apparently we are a little demanding of other people time and associations). But, whatever. As long as we know we are doing what needs to be done in order for any relative to have a decent death day celebration.

I don't understand why they call funerals celebrations, what are we celebrating? Unless, we are truly happy not to have to deal with the dead person ever again. Something to ponder while I drink my second Margarita.

Anywho, while in Sacramento, it was the same thing as the last time I was there, four years ago. It was still hot with dry heat, my childhood home still was 50 degrees hotter inside than out. My parents were still sitting in the same spot I last left them in, talking about the same thing. My other siblings were still complaining that the house they grew up in was too far for them to drive the 5-10 miles to visit, so I didn't really see any of them.

I wonder if the house moved a couple of inches over the years and they find it to find now.

Luckily, we were welcomed at my one of Favorite niece's house and had a good time hanging with her family. But I did have one sibling meet us at our favorite ice cream spot, Guther's, to introduce us to her new man.

Another called and had us over for dinner along with some odd couple he found from somewhere.

Both visits was fun and interesting.










The most surprising was the wedding of my sister-in-law and the hanging with my Honey's family. They mostly have decided that after nearly 30 years of our lives together, that I am acceptable to be called "Bobby's wife". It is always amazing that I am not anything near what they supposed me to be. I am still not clear what I did, other than spoil their plans for Bobby life and marry him after we had two children together. Maybe, they thught he would grow up to be someone else, with someone else and have kids with someone else.


But life never turns out the way we want it. It seems sometimes God has a funny side. So I got the man I love and his only kids. They got two grandsons who are productive adults with good souls and spirits that they have no idea who they are. They got a sometime brother who maintains his distance more than in miles but also mentally. I almost feel sorry for them.

There are some people I have known for years I had to cut off and allow them to have their drama by themselves. I had stuck by them for years through their ups & downs, but I will not allow them to treat me as if they were my bitch or I was their bitch. I got that lesson from Sister PeeWee South with her I-don't-shit-from-anyone lifestyle.  So I had another "pseudo-lesbian break-up", which I am very proud of because this one wasn't very public.

The best part of the whole weekend was the wedding. Not because my sister-in-law married some man nobody knows, but because we got to hang with Bob's cousins and our many friends we haven't seen in a few years.












Sometimes, its not really blood relatives you need to see, but friends that are family from years of learning and growing together. The ones that don't judge or care that you might be tore-back, they love you anyway. That to me is what family is.








So out loud, I say Thanks again to the Mitchell Family!
They rocked our experience in Sacramento again and serve us the best breakfast! We love them!

Until next time, readers. Peace & long life.




















- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Grand Rapids..

The Happenings That Ain't

I have been concentrating on everything else but writing lately. I've been more concerned with my weight, what I am eating or not eating, what my husband is doing or not doing and running or not running. I have made two small quilts (one that I sent to my 5 year old niece), three reusable bags for my youngest son to carry his comic books, finishing my beaded curtain (which is currently an art piece in my apartment), baking bread, making jam,
yogurt and hummus.


When I decide that I ran out of things to do I distract myself with marathon television series that I believe will help me be a better writer. I really believe shows like Scandal, The West Wing, The Borgia's, Breaking Bad and Alfred Hitchcock Presents will help my writing improve. The only problem with this thought is that I have not written anything outside of grocery and cleaning list.

Plus I have taken myself out as a 608er (Re: Ani DiFranco Educated Guess) I am tired of the same craziness that happens on a daily basis and yet no one seems to do anything about it except complain that it is happening. So to catch everyone up here is the latest 608er news:

The old people have moved in any and everyone who decided that they are tired of paying to live. Although they don't have to pay rent, groceries, gas or lights and get the privilege of having their every personal need taking care of (toilet paper, deodorant, bar & laundry soap, etc) they don't see the need to help clean the house. It's not a huge house and the old people only use 4 rooms, all downstairs. But to get one of those trifling people to actually dust, vacuum or wash dishes is too much like actual work. God forbid they lower themselves to actually do anything to get their hands dirty.

Madam Morbid is dying of some unknown disease but doesn't have anyone helping her with her last days. I am not sure what or how long she has, just that she was given a deadline (no pun intended) that is sooner rather than later. My parents think we should all drop what we are doing to come and make peace with her, but most of us are thinking long and hard about the make-up part seeing as we have all swung that tree too many times before. I wonder if we don't will we who still expect to live for another 50 or so years be judged as assholes or are we assholes because our mother raised us to be assholes?

Our Sister of Perpetual Pity is planning a big wedding to some unknown guy with no real background. We know nothing about him just what she says about him. Now least anyone of should care about this but she is still our sister and we only hope she chooses wisely this time. But sometime she not the sharpest knife in the drawer and that dullness could lead to her being used for things she didn't see coming. Just saying.

Sister Rona News Reporter broke her leg, Sister PeeWee South visited and left in a hurry with a wealth of stories to share. Sister Search has moved yet again and thinking about moving again.
Meanwhile, a favorite niece heart laid her out and scared us all for about month, another moved to San Jose. Some relatives aren't doing anything except discovering sex, drugs and welfare. While others are struggling to become something more than the same things that most of us are. Some relatives are just trifling and bothersome.

New babies were born or are on there way and our family is growing so fast that I am sure my sons don't know some of their first cousins let alone the second or third. Sad really when you think about it. We have so much in common with our brothers and sisters and yet our children are strangers to each other.

It might be a good idea to have another reunion with all of us, but this time get all the original 608ers there with all the spouses, grandkids, great-grands and so on. Even the dogs, cats, fish, horse, snakes & birds should attend.

The point is there is a lot going on in everybody lives and its time, especially with Madam Morbid given a deadline, to check back in with everyone, reconnect and remember what ties up together. The very fact that we survived the craziness of 608 and lived to tell about it.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Grand Rapids

March is marching on!

It been a weird kind of month. 

I must explain. It has been a kind of month that needed a break in between. Sort of a breath. Too many eye-opening moments and too many crazy bullshitting happening. With snow piling up all around in late March. My birthday telling me I'm am older again (48 is kind of big deal)! 

Then dealing with some bothersome folks that are scared of growth and getting old. I wonder if there would be a time when some of them would actually understand that their childhood doesn't have to define who they are now. 

It kind of started like this: 

My parents celebrated 54 years together in February. Although I am not sure of all the details, I know that it is a momentous moment to have been with the same person for 5 decades. I am going 3 decades with my honey, and I wonder where the time was spent. But of course, there has to be someone in the family who insist on killing good vibes and motivation. We have Madame Morbid running off in the mouth with such denseness that it spoil all good rainbows that day. Instead of celebrating all those years of them staying together, the one thing that makes us all family, she chosen to be negative. But what can one expect from someone who lives in the past and is negative about the future?

Then there are the people who are scared of growing old. Those bitter, dense and sad people who hold on to childhood as if it defines who they are now. I wish that they would put down the reality TV show they are mimicking and actually appreciate what they have.  It serves no purpose or gains nothing. "For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul? - Mark 8:36

Of course it doesn't help that my mother insists that my father isn't worth the salt he pours on his food. Therefore, she has been having dreams of leaving him. The best news is that she insists that she is moving with Sister PeeWee South. That cracks me up because its the least likely pair of people living together. I have no idea why she thinks this would work, but I know its a relief for me. I am no longer have to worry about her or state of being. As long as Sister PeeWee South doesn't try to die first. 

My mother is also in a state of un-repair. But not in health. For 80, I believe she might outlive most of us. But her finances are so jacked up right now. For the life of me I cannot understand why she only has $5.00. It is the middle of March and she gets $800+ every month from my father's retirement. She pays no bills, just buys grocery's. Mind you that's a lot of grocery's for two people if that is where all the money went. Of course there are always extra around who don't contribute to the household. And still others who take from her as if she a Swiss bank. But still there should be something left over other than $5.00. 

That brought her undo stress and she is wearing a heart monitor. Yay! That keeps track of her heart for a month and then we can see when she is stressed and determine what the stressor is. Although she almost had a heart attack one morning when she got a beep on the machine telling her to call 911. Instead of calling, she sat in her chair, crying, until Our Lady of Perpetual Pity showed up and called the monitor’s system nurse. It turned out she was pressing the emergency button on the machine most of the night and they were worried the machine was broke. I suspect she was stressed from those intimate times when the beggars and do-nothings come around and bring all their crazy world with them. 

Every time those do-nothing fart its a momentous occasion that is either celebrated or cause for concern. Either way an ambulance will be involved to return them to the farm (fake hospital that no one really heard of or seen them in). At which time they cry wolf and expect my parents to pay them for living. This is, again, some sort of reality TV they have tuned into they heads. Believing they are entitled to all that my parents worked for and all that my parents receive. I wonder what these same do nothings will do when 608 is no longer there. What happens when my parents don’t wake up from their afternoon nap? They will have to figure it out, like the rest of us and move on. They will no longer have anyone to “help” them grow the f&^K up and get out do their own ish. 

But then I am a dreamer. I always hope that in the future that the sun will shine after every storm and everyone can grow up and be decent humans. Actually help the old people. But I have a feeling that will be a sad day, cause it will only happen when my folks are covered for the last time.... sigh. 

Kenny's Day

Twenty-five years ago today, my older brother, Kenny, died. I am still grieving. I never thought I would miss someone like this. Not even a brother. But then again I never thought any one of us would actually die. Even during the funeral I was in disbelief. As if someone would wake me up and tell me to get on with life. But no one ever did. So every year on February 4th, I consider all that I've done with my life in the days since he died. I think mostly about my sons, the one he was Godfather and the one he never met but knew was coming. 

I always find myself on this day, doing busy work as to not think about him. It would be easy to just sit and reflect on those good days with him around but the memories are all replayed over and over like an old movie that you know all the words to. I don't want anyone to see that I am still grieving for this brother when I have 4 others still living. But they all fall short of what Kenny was. 

Maybe it's easy to romanticize someone when they are gone. I know some of siblings have taken his memory to new heights making damn near Jesus. But I don't see him as that. I saw him as one of us. One of us that been the trenches of 608 and survived to see adulthood.

Not all of us made it. There are a few who only are half alive and mostly living on lies they put in their own heads. I choose to just live and change my position in life by making it better. Getting out of the way of the 608ers and their quest to own everything they never worked for. Allowing them to lay claim to their nothingness. 

The Logan's grandmother had this saying: Your mother only raises housewives and whores. I was trained to be a housewife. I am the damn good one too. Although I always wish i was a bit of whore sometimes just for kicks. 

I chose to just be the crazy poet I am and the Mom by boys need me to be. I chose to be Bob's wife and very good one at that.  In that small way, I believe, I honor Kenny's life and gives me room to understand what my lot in life is. 

Still I miss my Big Brother today. Hopefully he is looking down and smiling saying, "Well done little sister...."

Broken Glass Everywhere...

The Ghetto Moves Into the Neighborhood.

It would seem that someone has decided to destructively help themselves to some of my father’s collection of stuff on the 608 grounds. My father has a habit of collecting things; wood, nails, bolts and T-birds; that most would call junk. His collections sit everywhere and anywhere he finds a empty space, much to my mother’s chagrin. We all believe he might be a hoarder. He believes he is “fixing” up the old house to his specifications. Mostly its a never ending saga of my father’s fantasy of living in luxury. He is creative but never has the gumption to actually follow through. So it is hard for anyone, let alone my father to determine if anything was stolen. 

A couple of weeks ago someone broke into my mother's Lincoln. The Lincoln is largely driven by my father now that my mother has stopped driving. We are all happy that she gave up the driving. It is not that she could not drive but was indeed the scariest on our block who wasn't drunk. But now that she is 80, her driving days are over and the Lincoln sits until my father has some odd need to drive the Lincoln to Home Depot for nails and bolts to attach to his latest project involving wood or T-Birds. 

Anyway, someone broke into the Lincoln sitting in the driveway next to my parents bedroom window which is far up the driveway, almost in the backdoor. Whoever did this dastardly deed was bold enough not to be afraid of getting caught or worried enough about anyone inside hearing. They must of known my parents habits. I say this because they broke into the car while my mother was in her REM sleep and my father was sleeping on the couch, I mean, watching television.  

My siblings and I all know that it adds up to one person, our favorite drug addict, the Crackhead Preacher. Although my parents will deny that he is the likely culprit, we all know it was him or one of his crackhead friends. He would be the only person who would know my parents habits and be that bold. But my parents always try to see the good in everyone until they messed up so horribly they could not deny their satanist ways. When that happens you will likely be on Mom's shit list until she causally forgets when you buy her off, I mean, make it up to her. Then and only then will you be forgiven and as long as Mom is happy then so is Pop. 

So in the mist of this sudden constant break-ins at the house, my father's solution is to put in a security system involving camera's and monitors. Mind you, they are 74 and 80 and technically incapable of using their computer efficiently.  

My mother insists that she needs a iPad. Why? Because she wants to video chat to her 5 year old granddaughter who is moving nearby in a week.  She had 11 children, 30 something grandchildren and 20 or more great-grandchildren and 1 great-great child. Some of us are far enough away to require an all day trip on plane to get to Sacramento and we don't call often. But she isn't interested in talking to any one else. Just the five year old. 

Not that I blame her, that five year old is entertaining. But so is another five year old. He just has a very southern accent and he is more hip-hop and rap than other five year olds. He is very entertaining. But Mom just wants to talk to the one. 

We all know really she wants the iPad cause someone (Our Sister of Perpetual Pity is my guesstimate) wants an iPad and the only way to get one is put the idea in my Mom's head. My Mom will convince one of us to get it for her and she will play with it for a two maybe three weeks before O.S.P.P.  will get a hold of it.  

We are all sure that after three weeks my parents will forget about the security system and never check it or turn it on and move on to the next gadget that my father has to get his hands on. The security system will end up in the attic where all the other gadgets my father cherished processions go when their uselessness becomes apparent. We will find those toys one odd day while looking for our past and stumble on his treasures wondering what in the world they would do with such things. 

I'm back!

It was a helluva in 2012 and I am glad that it is over. I truly believe that things happen for a reason, but 2012 was a doozy in terms of life and my energy towards everything was low. Therefore, my creativeness was low and un-productive as was anything else in my world. I stopped caring about me and my imagination went the way of the gooney bird. So instead of complaining about 2012, I will list the seven lessons I've learned instead. I believe this is a good way to re-start my blog and commit to my writing habit. Plus the only thing i wrote during 2012 was list....

1. Working from home does not mean I'm not busy. I would always give my all to those who needed me at any given time. No matter if I had something else going on or wanted/planned on doing something just for me. Whether going to school to further my education or simply taking a bath, I would stop if someone needed a my attention for any little thing. It didn't matter if they were my child, a relative I barely liked or good friend. I would stop myself from doing whatever it was to focus on them. Giving my all. Looking back I see that most of that was a waste of time and I received nothing for all those missed opportunities. I would pass up many chances to do what  I intended to do, to help others complete their goals. I remember now that no one appreciates me more than me. Although I am not in any way disappointed about who I am now, I just think I should have spent more time being selfish instead of driving folks to the grocery store. 
2. My health is important. I used to make sure everyone around me was healthy. I would hook up herbal teas and scrubs for the ill and itchy, but never would explain how exhausted I was. I was always afraid that if I complained that somehow I would be considered a hypochondriac like certain folks in my family.  I was never afraid of doctors, I just felt that I could take care of the clumsy, tired and aches I had myself or push through enough to make it through the day without no one being the wiser. I realize now that was really selfish of me. My family only got a part of me because I didn't want them to worry, which, of course, caused them more worry than necessary. Now that the kids are grown and we moved far enough away from immediate family, I had enough time to really see that I need to take care of myself. Completely. No leaving out the details to various medical personal or lying to myself. Hell, sometimes I do need help and hell yes, I need medication to help me through the day. But so the hell what? I feel much better and I am, happily, taking care of me.
3. Ain't No Need to Tell Everybody Everything. Despite to what I said above and this blog, I have no plans to tell my medical or too intimate details of my world to anyone. I have always been very private and see no reason to tell everyone about myself now. Especially medical things. I don't enjoy talking about my medical situations. It is a self-serving sympathetic attitude that leads to the belief that one might be sicker than the medical personal says you are. You will not see much about my illness, any hospital stay or surgery I might of had. That being said, I do tell those I am closest to about some of my medical conditions and I would call you if i feel you need to know. If I didn't call you, you are not in my circle of need to know, therefore you cannot act like you know about me or my illness. The lesson I learned last year with being severely ill is that some people will try to compete with your illness and make theirs so devastating that yours become insignificant. But in reality what I had going on was definitely life changing for me and my love ones and I would not belittle that with advertisement on the Internet.
4. Plans change. I never thought Bob and I would be living in the Midwest. I never really thought we would leave Sacramento. I really thought I would live a marginal life with nothing really going on except boring Sacramento with family on every block. Then Seattle came along and I nearly lost my mind. I love that city. It stole my heart within a year and I can't believe we left it. But I find myself loving the quiet, stillness of Grand Rapids. Who knew this was what we needed. routines that don't really change, no hustle and bustling around. Just a few deer to look out for and some snow in winter. Its been a very slow and quiet three years and I've grown to love it. I'm too far for folks to drop by or stay too long and since most of my friends are on west coast time, no one calls after 8pm unless its important (somebody better had died). Although, we didn't plan on Seattle let alone Grand Rapids, both were the best things to happen to us. I would not change a thing about moving.
5. My advise isn't always needed.  When my sons were younger they were in our house following our rules, mostly. When we said "mow the lawn" that meant they have to move off the couch and mow the lawn. It wasn't hard unless the grass was extra long or the lawn mower was old (which was more often than not). But they were expected to pull their weight around the house and "mow the lawn". Now they both have been out of household for awhile now and I can no longer expect them to mow the lawn. My ideals and expectations for them have not changed nor have my "you-better-do-as-I-say"isms. But I can no longer parent them by sheer force. Only by suggestions and only when I am aware of their situations. Which is barely now. They share more stuff with each other than they ever will with us. Somehow, we are the blame for this situation as they grew up with the "you only have one brother" rule we grilled into their heads. It seems to have back-fired on us as they tell us only as much as they think we should know and hold each other's secrets fiercely. Damn it. I suppose that is good because brothers should be close. But still, I believe I have some knowledge that I need to impart if only they would ask. Or I am completely disillusioned and confused and therefore my advise is unwanted. 
6. My Parents right (sometimes). My mother has a way of saying shit to you so that when you walk away it bitch-slaps you like a heart-attack and you lose all sense of what happened. My father is the great lecturer. These lectures can last a very long time and one has to decipher his southern accent to understand that he unhappy about something you did. Then come the scriptures that correlate with the offense that you committed. As a child, I preferred the whooping. It didn't last as long and you were usually sent upstairs untethered by their tyranny. As an 47 year old adult, I still prefer the whooping. But every once in a while my parents will impart some wisdom they accumulated and pass it on to me almost cordially. Sometimes it takes a day or two for it to sink in, but when it does I always have to stop and say "Damn. Mom was right".
7. I love my man. This may not be a revelation to anyone who knows us. But for me to admit it out loud online is huge for me. I've always kept my relationship with Bob quiet for whatever reason. What I mean is that, one knows we are together and we are affectionate in public but never overly. I just always thought it was unnecessary because I always assumed that he knew. But after being so sick these pass seven months and watching him pray over me, I realize that I would be lost without him. He has become my anchor and my life. I have fallen for this dude hard and he is it for me. I am truly grateful and appreciative of him and honored to be his wife. He is everything God intended for me and that is more than I ever wanted for myself. I love my man and that in-itself is rather good.   

Happenings

So last week, my niece, MoHiggins, came to visit us in Michigan. We were thrilled to have family come and see us and to show off our little town. After picking up some famous Chicago dogs at Portillos, we zoomed home and began our week.

Downtown Grand Rapids is only a minute big with fascinating buildings. Reminds me of Old Sacramento but with more sizable and useable buildings.

We planned on walking through it but it was late. Instead we just started the tours over the course of the week. We showed her Lake Michigan. Where we learned that we actually like the lake in the fall. It was a beautiful but cool day. We forgot blanket and a picnic basket but still it was fun.

The next day we headed to Meijer's Garden and chased chipmunks and odd birds while looking at different sculptures. We walked trails, climbed tree houses, played in log cabins, lied to koi fish and got lost in a maze. But it was fun! We didn't get to see the whole thing as it is huge and would take 2 days to all of it, but totally worth our time. 

After hanging out until the early morning hours we made our way to Saugatuck, Mi to check out the yachts, chase black squirrels and shop in eclectic shops. We managed to stop at a bar & grill and get lamb sliders. Yum!

Between all the running around, walking trails, music exchange and movie watching the week ended too fast and we were back in Chicago saying our goodbyes. I had forgotten how much i miss normal people to talk to and realize I need to get back to West Coast. Maybe I just need to create some sort of village here. Maybe I should just work at moving back harder.