The 13th Apostol

Houston, We Have Concrete!

It's not much, but by God I hit pay dirt...just KNOWING there's actually concrete underneath all that, that, that stuff...gives me strength to continue.

Here's some better shots of the outside, and no...this isn't all I'm going to write about.

I'm still homesick as hell, I want to touch my things, smell my things, nest for Autumn, buy pumpkins...I doubt at the rate I'm going, we'll be in by Halloween. Missing the old house, all it held in my heart.

The kids running through, the Holidays, the bickering, the mess!
This is still so hard some days, letting go. All the neighbors in the immediate vicinity of  the new place are good neighbors, but their kids are all my age for the love of Mike...

Mike. Who is this Mike guy I speak of?
No toxic fumes to blame this state of mind on.
Too bad.

Ran into that flame at HD today.
I looked like an menopausal dyke covered in black mastic.

He on the other hand, looked hot.
Sickeningly hot.

Why Yes, I Have a Vagina...Why Do You Ask?

Once again I have abandoned my writing, friends, self...all in what feels like a feeble attempt at renovating a 1947 "safe house", still stuck in the Kennedy administration.
I have hit an impasse, a point of no return, or so it seems. In over my head, running on empty, and feeling so overwhelmed with these floors I can't think straight enough to make good choices.

If I continue the way I planned, with acid staining the concrete slab hidden under the tar from Dante's hell, it could very well turn out to be the most beautiful art I've done in years.
I can't figure out how to get the tar off the slab,  I can't THINK correctly because I'm too close to the remodel emotionally.
Every person I talk to says something different, I have come to loathe the employees at HD and Lowe's...although they mean well, they are essentially idiots. (such as myself)

One contractor came saw the disaster in front of him, and failed to reply with a bid...nice guy though. Another contractor I believe may have inhaled far too many  solvents over the course of his career, but his bid was for an overlay.
A flippin overlay ON TOP of mastik...yeah right, oh and here's a grand up front...I have a vagina, therefore I have no clue what I'm doing? I have a vagina, therefore  I have less upper body strength...that's about it dude.

Today, I am renting a machine. Do not ask me what KIND of machine I am renting, because  I do not KNOW...but there must exist a machine, that can scrape this crud off concrete, while exposing the layer suitable for acid staining...there must be.

I can do this.
I CAN DO THIS!

Spinning My Wheels it Feels

At  least  Mesta Festa was a success...

That black gook was underneath the 60 year-old tiles...my only option is to buy some knee pads,  solvents similar to gases used  in Auschwitz, and find some day labor on the cheap:)...and yes, I've done all this by my damn self.

Apostol's Remodel, as Narrated by The Mer

Oh Wait...It's Getting BETTER by the Moment

Oh sweet mother of Winnie The Pooh!
What I believed to be smooth concrete slab, is in fact 50 + year old asbestos tiles.
Held in place by what appears to be black Tar from Dante's Hell...

Carpet must come out, kid can't breathe, bought carpet knife at Lowe's (where I'm sure they'll get a restraining order before these floors are done)

If I cannot stain the concrete, I cannot afford any other flooring options...especially if I have to hire a certified abatement company to come clean up the toxic dump that is now my home.

Here we go, it's gonna be one helluva ride.
Asbestos fucking tiles.

I am Officially Pretending To Own My Own Home!

Yes by golly Internet, I signed, or  rather initialed all 27 official documents this afternoon. But the gist of it is this....
If I so much as expel gas incorrectly during the next 30 years of my life on this large spinning mass of bank-owned property called  Earth, I'll be starting a Nomadic Blog called: "How-to-Effectively-Parent-Your-Gypsy-Kid-Within-the-Bounds-of-Societal-Norm.com"
I am not in denial about who actually OWNS the damn house, in fact it feels phony saying "I just bought a house" to anyone who will listen all afternoon thank you very much.
Because there's no way in hell I could have pulled this one off alone. No way. Too many people were involved in this, so many...so grateful.

Now the work/fun begins...

Why Do I Feel Like The Crack Spiders Bitch?

Timing

Happy Ramadan or What Constitutes a Dead Beat Dad?

I spent two hours post root canal digging through storage trying to find warmer clothes. No avail. My Realtor, St. David is out of pocket, or I'd go dig through the horse trailer on the other side of town.
...Fall arrived nasty-like today.

You see, it's been a shitty week, as shitty weeks go, and today was the final blow to my already stretched to the max tolerance of stupid fucking people.
Because when that Judge issued a new court order for Child Support to be increased to a whopping $238 a month in August (up from a sporadically paid $127), he very firmly said it was due on the first of September...2007

Because, and I'm going to say what I never publicly say, Al's father is the biggest loser on the face of the Earth, we have to use the illustrious Department of Human Services to collect. Yes, the very entity who played a pivotal role in the destruction of my family, now is the filtration system set in place to ensure some sort of recourse is had on my part when loser-dad fails to pay...which he will as sure as breathe.
Last Saturday the 8th of September, Loser dad assures me the full amount has been mailed in via money order (since loser-dad has no checking account) this alone angers me, knowing it will take five to seven days for the money to post on my Oklahoma Debit Card. (a way of helping us moms feel independent...and track our spending like children...er, somethin)
I asked him, I mean Loser dad, if he included a copy of the court order with his "money order", so as to insure Al would be the recipient of ALL the funds, and not just $127...in the past, when loser dad has sent in additional funds over the court ordered $127, such as, say seventy five cents...that money went to pay the state back. ANY MONEY OVER THE COURT ORDERED AMOUNT GOES DIRECTLY TO THE STATE "Yes, I did"
That's what he said people, he said "Yes, I did"...I even PUSHED the matter just a smidgen more with a follow up of "ARE YOU SURE?" going on to explain why it was so important they have documentation of the CURRENT court order, because they, like he, are MORONS.
Tick tock, each morning I check to see if his payment, the one due on September first, had posted. Tick tock, through living out of my crappy fluorescent yellow "Members Only" luggage, circa 1993 for THREE WEEKS. Tick tock, through CRUSHING my foot and nearly DYING in the emergency room because some newbie M.D. thinks a Morphine drip for a sprain is overkill, Tick tock another fucking meteor shower, no house close, dinosaurs are dropping like flies...and all, ALL I need is some crappy FUCKING CHILD SUPPORT SO I CAN SUPPORT THAT LOSERS KID...ONE...MORE...MONTH, while LIVING in a Godamned pool caBANA!!!!!   
Marc Cates (8017 Lakehurst Dr Okc 73120) was asked to track down the office where he could present the court order today and see about issuing a check that is rightfully The Mer's money. Marc Cates (8017 Lakehurst Dr Okc 73120) owing back child support DOES NOT come out of what the judge orders is appropriate financial support given Marc Cates (8017 Lakehurst Dr Okc 73120) income.
He refused to take any action without me, first, locating phone numbers, addresses, basically holding his little fucking hand.
I have a child who's hand I hold...his name is Al, not Marc Cates (8017 Lakehurst Dr Okc 73120)
Marc Cates (8017 Lakehurst Dr Okc 73120) family can and should help in this instance, if the Uncle can foot the bill for half a wii, he can help get his nephew into a home of his own...but, the case goes "If they don't have anywhere to live, if she falls on her face we can get Al"

Ya know what? I'll gladly give Al to those two idiots. If they can remember to feed him, give him his meds at the correct time, get him to his Dr.'s appts, do P.T. every day, figure out where he'll go while they're at work, plus deal with the after affects of Al being in daycare, staying up too late at night, eating junk, not having any structure or routine...I'll NEVER have to hear that threat again, but at what cost to The Mer?

In CON-clu-SION...lets just say THIS much about Marc Cates (8017 Lakehurst Dr OKC 73120) He lied and either a.) did NOT include the court order. Or b.) didn't send the full amount to begin with.

But at least today I've got $127 to support The Mer on that I didn't have....BULLSHIT, BULLSHIT, BULLSHIT! I cannot pay a f*cking mortgage like this!

On a lighter note, if there is one in my life right now, Talal, that beautiful smelling Muslim boy (he's 23, he's a boy) who lives in the "Big House" tells me it's Ramadan! So of course in support of his religious life I shall fast with him.

Not like right next to him, he's in school and stuff, but in solidarity of Ramadan. Who needs food during the day anyway, it just slows you down. If Allah is the One, at least he's not building vulgar expressions of the faith with the money he steals right out of the pockets of the poor stupid people who earn it. Y'all.

Bad week. Happy Ramadan.
This too shall pass.

 

I've Applied For a Hole in My Head Next

Murphy's Law Beta Version 1.5.11 (Release Notes)

We Close On Thursday...barring Meteors, and a Beta Version of Murphy's Law

Adopted Prayer Flags

Prayer Flags by JoanLogghe

Why Apostol is Not Losing Weight On Her "Anorexic Celebrity" Diet"

I've been STARVING my ass for over TWO weeks now...TWO WEEKS I'm eating nothing but a regular Sonic Strawberry Banana Smoothie for dinner. (And going through a 32 oz. bottle of Coffee Mate Chocolate Raspberry Creamer every TWO days) ..but that's COFFEE for Christ's sake, it doesn't even COUNT.

Let's do the math, shall we?
If the Smoothie is 440 calories, and...get this - ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT FUCKING GRAMS OF CARBOHYDRATES...and the gloriously addictive chocolate raspberry creamer is 2520 calories a bottle (I secretly drink it straight out of said container) and THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN EVER-LOVIN' CARBOHYDRATES A BOTTLE...

I've actually been consuming approximately:
2000 straight calories and (this is the one that gets me) 265.5 CARBOHYDRATES A DAY people! A DAY! Not a week, or every couple of weeks, but DAILY.

Menopause my ass, I'm an idiot. I'm actually consuming more bad units of energy, than when I started. When did I think I got so healthy I didn't have to read labels anymore? Huh? Oh yeah, healthy, that's a word that's synonymous with starvation. Crap, crap, crap, crap , CRAP what a waste of two weeks and a butt-load of money, no wonder I look nuts right now...I am.

Oh, and FYI...please no "all you have to do to lose weight is eat healthy and exercise" comments...they WILL be deleted thank you very much. This isn't about wanting to be healthy for God's sake, it's about CONTROL, of which I have none, over that which is out of control, namely my big ass life.

 

Ruby Slippers Please

I feel like I'm really and truly at a breaking point.
Like If I don't get my child home somewhere fast...I will not make it one day longer.
I miss my things, I know Al misses his things, Cooper the Hamster.
Yesterday I dropped him off at the little girls house across the street from us.
Chelsea is having a big sleepover birthday party, and The Mer, Sidney and all the kids were coming.
I dropped him off, and we stood on the porch chatting. I felt like such a stranger, standing there before what used to be my home.  Knowing it was all over, what we had there between our families, and no matter how hard we tried to tell these kids differently...

Al made friendship necklaces for himself, Cheslea and Sidney yesterday. I am so utterly broke, but bought the beads anyway. He needed them, needs them to hold on to these relationships. Left to right: Chelsea's, Sidney's and The Mer's. I'm so proud of my son...I too am impatient, edgy, on the verge of tears at any given moment, and still waiting for this increase in child support the Judge ordered by September 1st.
It's so hard to be a good mother right now, as alone and stressed out as I feel. I don't want to write about it, I want to go put my key in the lock, start a load of laundry, dinner. Home, where I can process what's happening medically with my child, where I can garnish strength from the sight of the sycamore at the kitchen window, seeing her standing after 75 years told me I could weather the baby blasts of my silly little life.
How do you go forward, when every ounce of your being says "NO!" I can see a difference already in Al, in how he relates to the friends who still live there.
So I sit here, it's still dark, knowing Mer is asleep somewhere up North where sirens don't wail in the night, where the city doesn't vibrate in circles around him.
The inner city is wearing on me too.
I left this place for the suburbs three years ago, with no desire to return to the noise. I will go to church this morning at First Unitarian. It's Family Sunday, but Al will be swimming still, so I'll borrow someone else's family. U.U.'s make exceptional  surrogates. 
I signed up for service work for the new church school year. An article on class distinction in Unitarian churches came out in this months UUWorld magazine, but it was first written as a blog post back in April on "Free and Responsible Search"
by Doug Muder...PLEASE read this, it's truly brilliant. Finally explaining what the Hell was happening here in Oklahoma...at least to me...

This is a bad shot, you can't see his face, and honestly he may not want you see his face...I haven't asked. I should, I will, because this young man, Talal is so beautiful it makes me weep. Al and Talal are flying one of those dollar tree Styrofoam airplanes guaranteed to break before your car is out of the parking lot. (Apparently we got a dud) Knowing Talal has been one of the best experiences for Al.

I wonder if Al's still too young to understand racism, bigotry, and hatred of someone simply because of their faith? And while I'm wondering this, I worry about Talal walking from campus alone, and at night.

It Could Be Worse...You Could Have A Brain Tumor

On Wednesday The Mer had an MRI, head scan only, as this was the final requirement for insurance coverage of the $10,000 a month growth hormones, for-the-love-of-Pete-period!
We arrived in decent spirits for the made-in-May-appointment at 12:15 p.m., Mer on an empty stomach from the night before, had stayed home from school per Dr's orders. No chances were taken Mer would give in to temptation and eat or drink.

There is one MRI in the state equipped to fully anesthetize children. The waiting list can be excrutiatingly long,  I'm told our four month wait was relatively quick.
The family in the waiting room when we arrived, had their daughters MRI scheduled back in February, what they were most upset about was they had been sitting in the waiting room for three (3) hours...and they were the only people there.

I can tell you right now, neither Al nor myself would last 3 hours. Hell we're hard pressed to do thirty minutes...there's a reason I don't arrive places early with my NON-MEDICATED ADHD kid.

About this time a nurse called us back, and at least we had a small room with blankets and a television...to wait three hours in. I met and fell head-over-heels for Al's anesthesiologist. Dr. W. from the U.K.. He accessed all of Mer's cardio files on O.U.'s website, talked with me in detail, and Mer so he could comprehend.
Yesterday during our appointment with his Geneticist, she told me the findings of the MRI. The scan showed something no one expected, that has nothing to do with Mer not growing. A part of his pituitary failed to "flair" during the test.

It's called Pituitary Microadenoma.

SEPTEMBER

I'm sad, and so very homesick.
The Mer has chosen to be in Strings this year, a Violin he wants.
A Violin he shall have, if it f*cking kills me.

I wish I could cry or something, anything to make it better. What the hell? When am I going to wake up and say "OK, this is NOT going to happen, the loan, so let's find a house to rent for a year and pray we do better on Landlords than we have the last two times"

It's SEPTEMBER 4th, and I'm living in a pool cabana with a 9 year old, a cat and a fUcking fish.

Even if I get approved, the seller refuses to do the repairs my inspection found necessary. Which included faulty electrical sockets, and black mold in the kitchen. He refuses to rip out the 30 year old carpet. I started by asking him to replace it back in JUNE when I made my first offer, and he declined. Then I asked for it to be removed, just leave bare concrete, which is better for The Mer than breathing in the crap from old carpet..."No."

People I'm tired, and just a little pissed off.
My kid is a wreck, so if he wants a violin by God he's gonna get a violin.