The 13th Apostol

How The World Works Best

It's the final day of NaBloPoMo, and someone's going to win a pair of Happy Feet very soon!

Me, I'm waiting with baited breath to hear the words "You can come see the floors now"
My friend Jerry said he went by to check on the house the other day...that's what Jerry does, as an ex Marine, biker-kinda friend...he checks on your house.

Jerry, who's never much for elated emotional outbursts exclaimed, and I quote "The floors look AWESOME!"

We are going to have a "Floor warming party" sometime after the first of the year. Have my Design Team, call the local media...no wait, lets get the house done first THEN call the local media...do a segment on green building, PermaCrete, Impressive Restorations, the house old man Warr Acres built...I can see it now, The Gazette, Price Tower Arts Center out of Tulsa...

Breathe...just breathe.

The house, The Ware Family, it's all coming together as it should be.
Steph commented yesterday "How did you find Impressive Restorations anyway?"
Honestly, I can't remember. I want to say Craigslist.
All I know is the stars were aligned, but most importantly I was willing to let go of the process, trusting others to heal my home.

So many homeowners cannot do this, and I couldn't for a long time...recall?
It took being beaten down by inexperience and vulnerability, leading me to a place of willingness and open-mindedness.

I learned a few things working along side my dad for some years.
He put me to work early on proof reading his copy. To the day dad died he spelled cat with a "K", but the man was an incredible writer. I'll never forget the day he finally bought a new typewriter with spell check on it, you'd have thought they had just placed a man directly on the moon....

My father's Ad Agency could have been huge. The man could have made a fortune capitalizing on his name, taking advantage of the naive business owner, hustling here, hustling there...typical Ad Exec hooey.

My father's Ad Agency however, was not huge.
In fact some months we struggled to keep the lights on...why?
Because dad was out there helping people, just like always. Showing business owners how to stretch their ad dollars, and where they were getting ripped off by corporate vacuums.

Some of the small businesses my dad helped get started, are now extremely successful companies. Dad would spend hours on end with owners, not charging them a dime (this drove my mother crazy) because he believed in them with all his heart.

If you are sick of hearing about Impressive Restorations and The Ware Family, then I suggest you read another blog. Impressive Restorations is worth my money, my time, my praise, and as soon as I get my office up and running again, my dedication to help them become all they want and more.

This is how the world works best, if you don't know this by now it's high-time you experience it.

Pop Quiz Plus Pop Art

How many contractors update you daily via email of their progress on your home?
How many contractors work through holidays to ensure your family gets into your home as soon as possible?
How many contractors work late into the night to achieve the same?
How many contractors meet and greet your neighbors, giving tours to the nosy (concerned) ones?

In an email after midnight yesterday from Stephanie Ware, Co-Owner of  Impressive Restorations of OKC/Dallas, she wrote:

Couple more peeks. And some updates.

"We have the living room finished, but for the clear seal coat. Which we plan to do tomorrow.
The Mer's room is close. Dan needs to pull all the tape and he's waiting for a particular product to be shipped from PermaCrete to finish. We hope to get delivery before the weekend, but this time of year they wouldn't promise anything.   
Still 2/3rds of a remaining room, and also the hallway to go. The designs are on the floor, just waiting to PermaCrete and seal coat.
We got a lot accomplished today, tired, but happy."

More tomorrow....
Steph

At this point, due to the integrity, dedication, consistency, and over all decency of this company...they could throw cow poop on my floor, slap a coat of sealer on it, and I'd love it.

Anyone who's had the nightmare of dealing with contractors knows what I'm saying. Not to mention, trusting people with your home when you cannot be there daily to oversee the work.



Before I reach for my soap box again, let me say one thing about Impressive Restorations...I am, and you will be also, quite inexplicably impressed.

And AGAIN...

Sneek Peak

Here's what everyone's been waiting for...a sneak peek of the floors, Impressive Restorations Kandinsky-ish interpretation!

I must say I have no clue where in my home these images are! The Mer has a few ideas, but nothing for sure...

The Team is having so much fun with this project, it makes my heart happy, happy, happy.

To know so much love has gone into our home. Restructuring, resurfacing and finally redesigning the floors, makes me love the final product sight unseen.

After viewing these images late last night, I had trouble falling asleep, I was so excited.

It's really happening, and it's just stunning.

This is What a Greek Woman In Her Prime Looks Like.

More "Impressive" Each Day

My Impressive Restorations Design Team informed me via email, they have one room completed minus the clear coat! The others are in progress, as the "Kandisky-ish" design is taking a painfully slow time to tape off.

These people are dedicated y'all.

You have no idea how hard it was yesterday not to go peek in the windows...achingly hard. The Mer and I were near the house on an errand, but both agreed to wait and see the finished product.

I love the fact we are all on the same page, testing the limits of Perma Crete, pushing the product to see just what can be achieved artistically, while at the same time dealing with some pretty big structural issues my poor floor has.

They have sealed cracks in key areas, making the home overall more tight and warm.
These are things no other product but the Perma Crete line could do.

Daniel, their design specialist, has taken charge of The Mer's room. I saw a sketch he did one day last week. I'm not sure how old Daniel is, or when he started on his artistic path, and I've said it before, but this guy is talented.

I hope to help Impressive Restorations succeed as the number one Perma Crete installation company in OKC/Dallas within the next 12 months. When I believe in a product I stick my neck out there. When I believe in the people behind the product, the sky's the limit.

Perma Crete can do for people, what NO OTHER product can. I'm all about green building, all about saving our communities, our neighborhoods, our schools...this product solves a multitude of structural problems. Perma Crete and Impressive Restorations qualified, licensed, installers, is the only combination that could restore and beautify my 60 year-old home.

If the combo can do THAT, imagine what it can do for your basement, the kids play room, the guest house, your broken up driveway, the hazardous walkway in front of your office, that privacy wall you want to build to muffle the next door neighbors NINE kids...it's CRAZY what you can do with this stuff.

Any imaginable color, any imaginable design...the only limits are in your mind.
I LOVE THIS CRAP!
Stuff, I LOVE this STUFF.

Soap Box up.    

43rd Birthday Dinner For a Later in Life Mama

Last night, after two days hawking non-stop, on my feet, taking care of a sick child while I was home, then back again to hawk some more...the children, mine and the daughter-child who lives in "The Big House", were scurrying about, being many kinds of secretive in their comings and goings.

My presence was requested, via telephone, by the mother of the daughter-child, for dinner at 8:00 in "The Big House". Of course I declined, being many kinds of tired...I was then informed my presence was expected, for dinner at 8:00 in "The Big House".

"Oh" I replied, to the mother of the daughter-child. The daughter-child, busily scheming, sneaking, and planning BIG THINGS, hand-in-hand with The Mer. "Then I shall be there at 8:00 sharp - with, as they say very little anymore, bells on."

My first clue that something was not quite right in the world last evening, was the Cabana door bursting open, not an unusual event in and of it's self, yet this bursting forth, brought with it not only leaves a plenty from the menopausal dogwood, but two impish children bearing gifts of freshly folded laundry, warm and toasty from the basement.

The dumb-struck look upon my dually spectacled face, I'm sure was a sight. For the imps grinned wide-ish grins exclaiming "What?!" again and again in unison. Then as if directing like a Greek Yia Yia, told me "STAY HERE UNTIL WE COME AND GET YOU!"

I dared not move an inch, Yia Yia's pack wooden spoons and wield them like shrikens at any given moment. Except for mine, she packed a Derringer.

Moments passed, then multi-moments, and just as I was deeply engrossed in an article on Japanese Micro-Homes, tsubomi's in particular...the whirl wind that is the children I love, came cold and excitedly through the Cabana door - demanding my eyes, all six of them be closed tight.

Holding their hands (and peeking now and then at my feet for safety) We made our way to "The Big House" . There was blue grass on the stereo, I could sense the darkness like a pool of thick black cool water.

Still holding impish hands, I was directed to "NOW!"

What "Now" beheld was my surrogate family, circling a table set for royalty. There was impish hand scribed place cards, candles lit, antique silver ware to eat the fresh Autumn vegetables in the homemade chicken soup...mostly, there were two angels, one holding my right hand, one holding my left.

When I opened my gift from The Mer, I was reminded my baby has not lost his vision, his ability to see the glorious in the mundane, to find, through this sense that which cannot be found/seen by so many. I was reminded my child loves me regardless of where we're living, because we are family.

 

 

Happy Birthday To Me...I'm A Mom-ee!

Don Your Combat Boots, Tis Black Friday

It's 4:00 a.m.
I wont be late for work this year.
I must be crazy, it's 23 degrees inside the cabana.

Who needs a flippin shower?

Blessings Can Be Hard To See Without Bi-Focals

The coldest morning so far this year, very THANKful The Mer spent the night at his buddy Indigo's house, back in the old neighborhood.
I suppose that really means your baby is growing up, when they stay over at a friends on Thanksgiving Eve. Thanksgiving Eve only exists in the world of codependent, overbearing mothers. It's not really an "Eve" as "Eve's" go. And I'm stopping to find my rhinestone studded Jimmy Crystal Readers...if I'm going to get old, I'm going in style, thank you very much.

Today is slightly hard. Feeling, since I'm sure The Mer is warm and toasty with a REAL family, that I am a complete failure as a mother. (yes, again) That no matter how hard I work there will be no way to get "Home" by Christmas. How I had first promised by Halloween and Trick or Treating in the old neighborhood, then "I promise by Thanksgiving honey, for sure by then"...now it's Christmas...and I see...

No way to get stuff moved in, organized to livability, a tree set up and decorated, by myself. That's who he depends on...me, and I can only do so much alone, not having allowed too many people in since losing Athena. Most definitely not a "Him", and "Him's" (or the equivalent there of) are who one depends on to do so much "Her's" cannot do alone.

This post is going down hill fast. It's a combination of the holidays, my birthday on Saturday, and this silly little thing called: In-the-eyes-of-my-big-fat-scattered-Greek-family-I-have-failed-at-everything-period.

And yet, the Abundance in our lives is beyond measure, the strength my child possesses, his resiliency during the last 90 days of Gypsydom, his shining hope things will get better, all remind me our situation is temporary. However The Mer has his mom, reminding him so, and so, and so...while I on the other hand, occasionally and briefly...run flat out of steam.

This is merely an occasional, brief, steamless, moment.  I know far better than to set deadlines and expectations. I will be let down, the world doesn't spin this way.

We have been blessed by the presence of an AMAZING family in our lives, who coincidently, and becoming more of a side note the more I get to know them, are Perma Crete installers, technicians, and artist's.

Meeting Jorge and Stephanie's son Daniel yesterday, and seeing this kids artwork - blew my mind. This family, these people, work as a team right down to design work. Their married daughter Diana became excited about the project, and is now on board.

I have given Impressive Restorations (aka The Ware Family) carte blanc on my floor. I have done this for multiple reasons, some of which I'll mention, some are of a more personal nature. The degree to which, were I to divulge publicly, might warrant an emergency psychiatric detention order by a Judge on Holiday. Judges do not like to be bothered on Holiday, in order to detain wacky Greek women with sparkly bi-focals who live in pool house's. They just don't.

So here are the sane reasons I've given Impressive Restorations carte blanc on my floors:

They are as excited as I am about getting to do something artistic as opposed to mainstream.

They...I afraid that's all I can share at the moment. Enjoy the pictures, and have a Happy Turkey Day!

   

Spitzen On The Floor

The Impressive Restoration's Design Team is working on a final design for the floor.
In an email from Steph last night, she mentioned a Kandinsky print I'd never, in all my "worldly travels", come across. It's called Spitzen In Boden.

I'm meeting with them sometime today to see the final draft. I can't tell you how excited I am about this! This family is even working on Thanksgiving. This is just about unheard of in the contractor world. The ginormous hole is patched, and the skim coat goes on today.

Unfortunately, the drywall kid has disappeared into the mist without finishing the job. I had to ask him to wait so they could start on the floors, because he didn't finish when he was supposed to. He became miffed and huffy, exclaiming "What am I supposed to do?" Well, gee...maybe finish on time? Leave your drama at home? I made the mistake of giving him a draw (I know) to pay his help...then I didn't hear from him for three days. In the end, this is going to be the most expensive remodel in the history of THE WORLD.

Maybe not THE WORLD. I'm so relieved to have The Ware Family taking care of my floors...you really have no idea.

I also found out this morning, Stephanie can do hand texturing. Just look at these pictures. She's VERY good. I have a feeling this is all going to work out just fine.

All The Mer is asking for from Santa, is ONE new game, and a gaming chair...aliens have abducted my kid. (this is one perk of not having cable in the Cabana) All the little guy wants is "Our new home pretty by Christmas mom. Mom, can Santa's Elves do THAT?"

Shit. It almost makes me wish we'd had cable.
It's what I'm shooting for Mer, with every hour on my feet buddy.

Full Circle

I don't have time to do justice to this post, but the urge to write while it's fresh in my mind overwhelms me.

I don't write about my dad often on this site, for mainly one reason...I'm a little out there, somewhat controversial, sporadically foul mouthed, and consistently wrong.
I am however, my fathers kid, he raised me to be exactly who I am...my own person.

As Foreman Scotty, dad touched the lives of countless Oklahoma children, during an era when child abuse of course existed, but wasn't nearly as prevalent. Mothers were mainly home with their children not in the workforce, keeping a close eye on the comings and goings of their children. Neighbors new each other, stayed connected through church, civic events, etc. It was perhaps the last generation in which this type of family existed and flourished.

We call them the Boomers, they grew up and made the biggest impact on our society ever, both socially, and technologically. They made the last BIG difference before apathy consumed, the "what about me?" crowd came in, and somehow, somewhere the family fell apart.

Yesterday I had the enormous pleasure of meeting a man who sprung up out of this era, a man who like so many other kids, grew up watching my dad's show, and taking something away from the lessons he tried to teach.

Randy, a fellow writer, found me through a search for Foreman Scotty some time back, and has been following the blog. Through a series of nothing less than divinely lead events, Randy ended up standing in front of me yesterday at my kiosk, with a long list of special order items...and the name tag he wore as a small child on The Foreman Scotty Show, some 40 plus years ago, tucked in his pocket.

As I said, I don't have time to do justice to this post, but let me sum it up with an except from an email I received from Randy this morning:

"I'm just a grown up guy that used to be a one eyed self conscious kid from Elk City Oklahoma that was made to feel normal and accepted by your dad.

Me on the other hand..... I got to meet Foreman Scotty's daughter....now that.... that is cool.

Seriously, it was great to meet you and be able to attach a real person with words on a page. I'll be reading because you write the way you talk... Real.

Thanks for sharing your dad with all of us."
      Randy

I feel the same way Randy, and you are so very welcome.

What I'm suspecting here, is dad not only helped my brother and I to become our own people, but many more. At least one for certain, and his name is Randy Warren.

Black Friday, Lime Green Christmas Tree, Hot Pink Ornaments

Gearing up for Black Friday, being told by Mall Management I can't display my lime green 2ft. tall lighted tree (w/hot pink ornaments)...WTF???

Ok, so all's fair in retail wars, but there seems to be some disgruntled Kiosk operators on down the ways from me...apparently, the belief system is in place, and holding firm, that there is a limited amount of abundance in the Universe. (at least the Penn Square Mall Universe)

If a customer spends money with ME...they wont spend money with THEM. Rather limiting don't you think? With gas prices twice of what they were one year ago, with families losing their homes all across the country, the air is thick, the economy is in limbo, waiting to see what happens on Friday.

I can tell you what will happen on Friday...the same thing that's happened every other Black Friday since Black Friday's started...people will get up at the crack of dawn, half asleep from triptophan induced coma's the day before, load the kiddies up in their enormous gas guzzlers, drive to the dark mall parking lots and SPEND LIKE IT'S THEIR LAST DAY ON EARTH...getting farther and farther in debt.

American's WILL NOT wake up Friday morning and say "Ya know what? I better not get any more in debt, my life is unmanageable as it is...think I'll stay home and miss those sales."

We are a consumerist society, weened on the media, and if the media tells us to spend, by God we spend...hence BLACK FRIDAY.

I'm the ONLY one out there among my immediate peers, NOT worried "They will come"...call it age, call it experience, please don't call it wisdom, Christ knows I have none of that...living in a Cabana, but what I do have is faith. Faith in the greed and gluttony of my fellow American's. God bless their little I-can't-live-without-this-THING hearts...they will come, and in DROVES. To buy up all the THINGS to make them happy once and for all.

Once and for all.

Ahead of The Pack...My "Design Team"

Jorge, Steph, and Daniel got started on the prep work last night, after a long day of what sounds like, dealing with assholes (I feel ya girl) and STILL made it over to my place...only to be up this morning for a drive South of the border for a Dallas gig.

I feel like an episode of Extreme Makeover Home Edition, when I refer to my "Design Team", but they are seriously EXCITED about my Kleedinsky Floor. They didn't laugh at me, say "What do you mean?", ask for me to be "More specific"...NO, Steph and Daniel are actually concerned about needing to tone down their design ideas prior to showing them to me.

"No, no, no!" I wrote, "Show them to me FIRST, then if we need to we can tone them down!"

I forget we live in one of the most uptight, creatively oppressed cities in the Midwest. Yes we've come a long ways over the last ten or fifteen years, but on the average, we're still light years behind cities such as Chicago, Dallas or hell even Cleveland for that matter.

To know the Impressive Restorations design team, not only CAN do something that isn't mainstream, but WANTS to...puts them out there ahead of the pack by a mile!

Kleedinsky on My Floor...

We are trying to make decisions on the floor, colors and design.
The Mer is determined to have a red floor some how, and I'm at quite the disadvantage to dissuade him.
Searching through old images we saved from months past, we found one that may be to both our liking, a Kandinsky-ish design. I'm waiting to hear back from the Impressive Restoration design team, to see if it's even possible. Something tells me it might be.

"Um hello Stephanie, hi yeah this is Apostol...um can you do a Kandinsky on my floor? Oh, no wait...maybe a Klee, yeah let's do a Klee!...better yet, a combination of the two...a Kleedinsky!"

Times like these, I wish I were normal y'all.

The design Stephanie came up with sounds exactly like what I was going for to begin with, uncanny she literally read my mind...going with a larger travertine tile, with smaller lapis colored squares at every other corner...WHICH I LOVE!
I had to go and complicate things, didn't I?
I want Stephanie's HONEST opinion on both these different looks, then I'm going to go with whichever one she thinks with make the house look more unique.

Stephanie has Mystikos, which is the Greek word for "Seeing with the eyes closed"

If we try and make the house look civilized, it will lose it's appeal, it's most certainly not civilized. Imagine me, living in a civilized home...I bought an orphan house that no one wanted, the poor little thing. I just hope it doesn't crumble to the ground before we can go in and rebuild her.

I'm so excited about Perma Crete, I should become their national spokesperson, it's sick. If people only knew this stuff could literally save their homes at a fraction of the cost of other materials...their would be no urban blights.

Every where I look, there are buildings, entryways, steps, stairs, and especially in this wet/cold climate where our winters can beat us silly...why aren't people using this stuff? Because, like myself, no one knows about it.

The friends who's Cabana were staying in, own this gigantic, nearly one hundred-year-old Spanish Mission, entirely stucco...it's in need of repair all over the place. (God I hope they don't read this) From the pool to the driveway, to the actual buildings on the grounds. No one knows how to do stucco around these parts, not to mention the cost.

Hellooo? They're going to throw me out of the Cabana for emailing Perma Crete info every damn day:) ...I can't help it, this stuff can heal anything, as long as the people doing it are certified Perma Crete installers. That's the trick, making sure it's not "Bob's Sorta-Like Perma Crete"...not good.

Unlike traditional acid staining, with Perma Crete, you know exactly what your getting color wise, but be careful before you click on this next link...I got a migraine trying to decide on a color.

I'll shut up now.

Damn Hell Penn Square Mall Bathroom (Lower Level)

I love the tile work in this bathroom...

Impressed by Impressive Restorations

All I have to say is angels ARE real, and they own a company called Impressive Restorations.

Jorge, his wife Stephanie, and their son Daniel are authorized Perma Crete installers, and yesterday started the arduous task of fixing and beautifying my sad little home - literally from the ground up!

I can't wait to post the before and after photos, and hope Jorge will take shots along the way...these people really have no idea how much their honest, kind, non-vulture approach toward me has been appreciated.

My house is the poster child for Perma Crete, and if the floors turn out as well as I think they will, my future plans are to restore the house to it's adobe style via Perma Crete.

Jorge and Stephanie came over to the house on Sunday, just the nicest folks you'd ever meet. Jorge even took the time out to try and advice the guys attempting to patch some of the concrete in the house, educating them as to the ways concrete tends to behave.

These people aren't just installers, they KNOW their trade, have vision and the guts to speak the truth to a customer (me), letting me know before hand the down side to Perma Creting the floors.

Jorge actually looked underneath the house and found my duct work uninsulated, warning me ahead of time how cold the floors could be, and giving me some other options. I still chose to go with the Perma Crete, knowing this technique will solve the floor problems once and for all...this kind of business doesn't happen every day people.

I am utterly, and profoundly grateful for this family, and the pride they take in their craft. UTTERLY.

Boostin' at "The Navy" Part 2

One thing I failed to mention in yesterdays post, was that I had the item in my hand as I went through check out and exchanged the jeans, waited for the clerk to scan three different cards trying, without success, to pull up my previous purchase.
The stop gaps, the sales associate, along with any type of alarm upon exit, completely failed.

So my friend was all "They'll just write it off on their insurance, what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is me, and my conscience."
"When did THAT happen?"
"Shut up"
"No seriously, if they called you a shoplifter on the phone, what makes you think they won't call the cops on you if you go in to pay for it?"
"Call the cops, for WANTING to pay for something, get real"
"You need to write a nasty letter, and mail it with the tag, and a money order...ANONYMOUSLY"
"I don't WANT to be anonymous, I want them to see my face and know how mad I am"
"OK, but I'm not bailing you out"
"Whatever."
"Yeah, whatever"

Boostin' at "The Navy"

So I went to Old Navy last night to exchange some jeans that no longer fit (too big...score!) and walked out without paying for an item in my hands. (exhaustion)

I was Cabana before I saw the item laying on the seat next to me, and realizing what had happened I immediately called the store in an attempt to rectify the situation.

"Thank you for calling Old Navy"
"Um, yes, I was just in there and I, um, I walked out without paying for an item. I won't be able to get back in there for at least two days, so I was wondering if I could just give you my credit card number and pay for it over the phone?" (I'm an idiot)
"You mean you just walked out?"
"Well, yes."
"That's weird"
"No, that's exhaustion from working 60 retail hours a week. I can give you my drivers license number, whatever info you need"
"Let me get my MOD"
"Yes, get your MOD"
(long hold)
"Old Navy, how may I help you?"
(Same story repeated)
"Ma'am, I don't think we can wait two days, you might come in and shoplift something else."
(Yes she did)
"Excuse me?" (indignant as hell)
"Let me get the store Manager"
"Yes, get the store Manager" (How many Managers ARE there?)

After holding for an additional three or four minutes, I hung the effin phone up.
Now at this point I'm so pissed I'm thinking, screw them, I'm not paying for SHIT! Then I recall KARMA, and even though true Karma doesn't effect one in this lifetime, I just cannot risk it at this point, not living in a CABANA. Not to mention, STEALING IS WRONG. I'll lose sleep, never wear the item...it will suck all the way around. Been there, done all THAT.

I decided I will return to the Old Navy I "Shoplifted" from, request to speak with WHOMEVER is the highest in command, and taking them aside, inform them of the incident, the phone conversation, pay for the item WITH CASH, and as much as it saddens me to do so, will be making my future Old Navy purchases (which are many with a small child) at a different store.

The little snot-nosed brats.
I feel better now...
Not really.

Wishful Looking

I don't have pictures, but I'll go by the house today...the trees at MY house are amazing.
Wish I were looking out the window at them right now...soon.

PROOF!

To all you readers who doubt my prowess, clout and agility...

Where is My Man...and Where is MY Damn Coach Bag?

I put slippers on the crippled girls feet, the blind lady's feet, the fat mans feet...
I don't care about all these look-a-like women walking the Mall, all look-a-likes, all empty and mean.
I don't care about the Prada perfume, the Abercrombie sweater, the boy with his hand down the girls pants in line at Dippin Dots...I am oblivious to the sounds creeping in around me.
I do not care.
I care about the smile on the womans face, so deformed I read her left eye, just to be sure it was a smile...the young woman with dwarfism and her parents in a back brace, unable to reach the pink and white slipper she liked...the stroked out woman in a wheel chair, who's husband wanted to put her in size small O.U. Sooners, we worked together to get the mediums on her feet, only to be informed by a grunt and a hair-widths nod they were not to her liking...the boy who's mother threatened to cut his head "Plum off" if he didn't put the Celtics back on the rack...the Russian teenager, who with the aid of her interpretor, bought a pair of blue and white to match the "Tulsa" pajama bottoms she was wearing, and walked away with her dirty sneakers in the Happy Feet bag...The chemo patient. The diabetic. The frail, well-read lady with Morton's Neuropathy...

This is why I do it, day in and day out, two years in a row. I do it for humanity, for the lives touched, by some invisible jolt of spirit running through and through. Passing from me to them, then on to the next unknown life, infected with human kindness.

It's so easy to forget human kindness, compassion, love and acceptance of our fellow human being. In a crazy world, a crazy time we live in...it's good to let strangers give you comfort.

Women of Strength

This is my friend Lisa. We have known each other since I was 12 years old and she was 9. We used to live across the street from each other...for 10 years our parents lived across the street from each other.

She was there the day my mother committed suicide, watched them take her out of the house for me, telling me when it was over and I could look again. I was there the day the back alley "Doctor's" treatment went bad, forcing her to tell her mom and saving her life...

As friends go, she has been my oldest and best. If I had ever gotten married, she would have been my maid of honor.

Lisa is one of those strong women I write about.

Clearing Up The Wreakage From Our Past...One Letter At A Time

I'm here...is anyone out there?
Ok, so a girl in the Kiosk next to mine has a friend...her best friend from "The Day" a guy named Matt, who she used to do really illegal things with.
Now they have "real jobs" and are trying to do the right thing.
Lucky for me Matt's "real Job" involves construction work, and when he found out I was going to help her out by writing a character letter on her, to "The Evil Empire" so she could continue to get quality day care without having to involve her current asshole employer...he said he would do my drywall work for $600.

Now there are some other construction guys who have won my heart, but I want to hire them when I have the money to pay them well, like after the first of the year.

I just need to get moved into my house, regardless of the condition. It's almost Thanksgiving, THANKS-FREAKIN-GIVING...I have been here with The Mer in CABANA (latin for HOME) since August the 24th...it's time people.

I paid my first mortgage payment yesterday, making the house feel more than ever like my own. I want to go home.

Here's a picture of me on break, being orally fixated.

Yes, Mer is much better. Now he sounds like a sick cat...speaking of sick cats, when Satan came home from his nearly two week long absence,  his voice was gone. As in the poor damn cat can no longer meow.

He just opens his mouth and sort of hisses. Sad. A meowless cat.

Day Two Down

My baby sounds like a goose.

The Crud Striketh

Sick kid...this is my post...hey, it's a post.

Interviewed by Stable Stef

Stef came over to "The House" Sunday, and shot a video for her class at Rose State.
Her Instructor Skip, and I go way back, way back to the days of Mobile Video Production Company in Edmond Oklahoma.

Stef couldn't have come at a worse emotional time, as I had just previously had one of my screaming fits inside "The House" where I told it I hated it's effing guts.
Shaken, I allowed myself to be interviewed by the calm and stable Stef. (I wanted to crawl out of my skin during which)
I wasn't even thinking or I would have taken pictures of Stef...taking pictures. Being in "The House" is almost like being in a house that's burned, or been destroyed by a tornado, it's upsetting, even to hard assed me.

The possible good news is, one of the many emails to contractors I sent out Sunday morning was replied to Sunday night. The guy came by late last night and checked it out.

He says he'll have a bid for me by tomorrow. 

Wow, what a great post this was.

Here's a picture of The Mer and me, instead...

We really need our space huh?

Generation Gap

We have been Cabana (latin for "home") for 2.3 minutes.
It is 5:53 p.m.
I am running on empty. A "hybrids" version of empty. I am unable to formulate coherent sentences, having forgotten what cottage cheese was called, I simply asked The Mer if he wanted...uh...umm -
Perplexed at first, then seeing an opportunity for what it was, replied "'Super Mario Galaxy ' for my Wii?" -
"Some of the bumpy white stuff you like...what's it called?"
"Umm, "Guitar Hero 3?"

Conversation 15minutes later between The Mer and I as I'm nuking chicken nuggets, feeding Satan, cleaning a stuck, Extreme Sour Watermelon Warhead from the floor of the galley, and making my ritual grande cup of OCD Joe (5 packets of Splenda, one packet of Sweet-N-Low, half & half, and sugar free Hazelnut Coffee Mate creamer...shaken, not stirred)

The Mer - "How do you get a wife?"

What's left of me - "huh?"

The Mer - How do you get a wife?

What's left of me - "Well...after you've been dating a woman for a while, say 15 or 20 years, and you've decided that this is THE woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, you buy her a gigantic diamond ring. The bigger the diamond the better, then you get down on one knee, take her hand in yours, look her in the eye and tell her...well, tell her whatever you want to tell her, but something like... I said LIKE Mer, something like "I love you, want to spend the rest of our lives together, there's no one else in this world for me but you, blah, blah, blah...will you marry me?" then pull the ring out and hand it to her in the box...very important not to try and put it on her finger yet, not until she accepts your proposal.
Does that answer your question, why...how did you think you got a wife?"

The Mer - "I just thought you got one on the computer."

Get The Hell Away From My Kiosk

I haven't had any time to really enjoy NaBloPoMo yet, as I've been busy getting the store up and running two weeks earlier than last year.
We have a different location this year, and just like a good alcoholic, I'm LOSIN IT over the change! WHY? WHY, did they have to MOVE us????
I don't care if it was a "Sweet deal" I think I'm starting to understand WHY it was such a sweet deal on booth space.
Normal booth space this time of year runs (for a 14x14 slab of marble) around $7,500 a month...a MONTH. That's TWO months we're here. You do the math, I suck, thank Allah the cash register is pre-programmed.

So they give us this "Sweet Deal" on this new location...let me explain so far what this new location has caused people on a slammed Saturday to do...not much.
We are right at the mouth of an wing, exiting off the main hooplah (that's my word for "where all the shit happens" fountains, escalators, crazy purse lady, etc)

So by the time they start down a wing to look, key word LOOK for where they want to go, they are LOOKING right past us. Not to mention how Mr. Feet himself set up the kiosk...not going there, but if I was, well, all the EMPTY SHELVES IN THE FRONT OF THE STORE MIGHT BE A BAD SIGN.

Let go, let go and let...someone other than you worry about the efin store. Shit man, even Crazy Purse Lady made over $800 in sales yesterday. Breathe, breathe, pray, breathe, FUCK!

Grand Opening of OKC Happy Feet

This is me at the grand opening of the Oklahoma City location of Happy Feet yesterday. See how happy I am? You can't see my feet, but they too are happy.

Yesterday, Mr. Feet himself was there helping me stock and get set for today...pray for my Bi-Polar ass. After your through prayin, come buy some Happy Damn Feet!

The ONE and The MANY

One year ago, something started as a fluke.
It was fun, chaotic, and RANDOM.
This year some things have occurred, or so I've heard, I try and stay out of the back biting as much as possible. But people are actually pissed off that things aren't CHAOTIC AND RANDOM...they actually want organization.
An organized NaBloPoMo?
I guess I'm what shall from this point on be known as "Old School NaBloPoMo", back when there wasn't any cute nick names like "Nabby", "NaBlo", or "BloMe"
Ok I like the last one, but it at least stays in tune with what NaBloPoMo is about, this was something that started as a JOKE! As an IDEA, A THOUGHT in ONE WOMAN'S head...That's all.
We, the people (don't make me sing) of the Blogosphere sustained it.

Now people are being "Blacklisted" and shit.
How are you "Blacklisted" from something that's public domain?

I made some friends last year during NaBloPoMo (spell it out, it's part of the commitment) people who have stood by me when the meteors hurling my way could wipe out a small Midwestern township of Mormons. People who were all I had during dark days of "How will I feed The Mer AND keep the electricity on"
Friends, and I don't use that word loosely on my blog, nor do I have tons of link, or comments in the double digits, but friends who have sent words of wisdom and inspiration when I needed it most, when I knew my single ass couldn't face that cold bed alone one more night with the weight of parenting and the world outside weighing down on me, FRIENDS made through this crazy chaotic RANDOM thing that happened last November, that suddenly became what each and every one of us desperately needed to connect.
How long did the old Randomizer stay up? I don't know for sure, but I can confirm last JUNE I had someone comment on a post, who'd gotten my site from the Randomizer.
That, pretty much just rocks.

So yesterday I went to the participant list on Blogrolling, and what did I find?
Someone, and I don't know who, but someone found it necessary to remove my site name from the list. Why? And has anyone else had this happen to them is my question?
Because as "Old School NaBloPoMo" participants, anyone who did this deal last year knows it wasn't about ONE PERSON...it was about US, THEM and WE.
It was about RANDOM CHAOS, and what can happen when all minds are in tune to the same goal. It was about COMMENTING on new sites, getting out of your comfort zone.
It was not about CONTROL, BLACKLISTING, or ONE PERSON, one dog, one gold-freakin-fish...one didn't even fit into the equation...last year.

I hope any new people this year will know this about NaBloPoMo, the implementation of one womans idea, and the ensuing mass hysteria that followed had an enormous impact on the blogosphere. In a nutshell, it was very fucking cool to participate.

But when people start getting hurt intentionally because (and I'm not talking about myself here) they aren't one of the "Uber Cool" bloggers, don't have as much writing skill as maybe the next, or happen to knit even (love ya Chelsea) then the fun is gone and it's painfully clear it's become about the ONE and not the MANY.

You can only comment on someones blog for so long before you get tired of them not replying to you. How much energy does it take to type a smile [:)] a wink [;)] or a :B)( I don't know what that one is, I was trying to make a lady with boobies.

The fear factor. The needy ones will consume your life.
If your worried about that, I'd say your already consumed with your life.

It's too bad this post will only be up for one day.