The 13th Apostol

Robbers Cave Advance (because Unitarians don't like the word "Retreat")

At church this morning I made the life sucking commitment to go on the retreat next weekend. (and lil' Mer will be pushing me in my wheelchair with "Mudders" on it)

There's no way I can do this, but I'm praying for a "Miracle"...Oh, wait...I don't believe in those. How 'bout an illegal shipment of Mexican Pharmaceuticals? More realistic at this juncture.

I'm afraid that wont work either, I can't see Mer visiting me in the joint.
Not so I can take him on a "Church Advance".

We couldn't go last year because I was afraid to drive on the medication I'd just been so rudely switched to overnight. Hallucinations don't make good bed fellows with long road trips.
Year before last I was working, and before that, and before that.
So before Mer is in COLLEGE, I'd like him to experience our fellowships retreat.

Maybe I'll tie a bow on him with a note that reads: "Lost little U.U. - if found, please return to Robbers Cave asap" and kick him out at on the steps of the Sanctuary Friday afternoon...

Now, THAT just might work.

Have I mentioned I hate Doctors?
Especially ones I was engaged too...No, that ones a resentment, not hatred...the rest I just hate.

I'm out of patients, get it, patients.

Oh Christ, I've lost my sense of humor along with my bladder control.

Pro-Active Health Care is a Myth

After completely giving up on "Bill" and spending the majority of the week in the supine position, I've come to a place of frustration with the medical profession and my body even dynamite wont fix.

Limits of sporadic moments sitting at this computer, driving, being "Sybil" to Mer...it's not an acceptable way to live. Being treated like a criminal while fighting for health care is bullshit. I'm not alone.

The problem is the laws in this country, the individuals who abuse the health care system. (the true criminals don't use the health care system, they use the Internet. Duh)

We write our Legislators, join forums to support each other, trying to be pro-active in our health care. When are people living with chronic pain going to be treated with respect and not suspect?

Imagine having a "Headache" from the middle of your back all the way down both legs that doesn't ever stop. Eventually you cannot think straight, make decisions about anything past the next five minutes.
No promises to your children, because you don't want to let them down again.

Everything is calculated the best you can. Steps to the store entrance, which store, time of day you might be able to go, will you be able to get your child to school, Cub Scouts, their Dr. appointment, get the laundry done...blah, blah, blah.

You're held hostage in a body that refuses to let you go, then held hostage by the medical profession. This isn't my first stupid rodeo, I've been living this way for the last 15 years. I inherited my fathers back, and it's progressively deteriorated as I've gotten older.

I know all the tricks. Visualization techniques, deep breathing, used to do yoga, used to walk, used to do a lot of things (yeah I'm venting)
I've had acupuncture, steroid injections, seen a Chiropractor, changed my diet, lost weight and kept it off.

Does the above sound like a criminal, or someone trying to feel better?
I'm so pissed by how I was spoken to by a P.A. on Friday, I don't know how to handle it yet so I'm not doing anything.

She was condescending, shaming, humiliating, and wrong. She was also uneducated and misinformed regarding pain management. I left there in more pain from her battering than I arrived in. Does she speak to Cancer patients like this?

Chronic intractable pain is managable, but the medical profession has to communicate with their patients. All we want is free from the darkness, and that doesn't mean being doped up out of our minds.

I don't know where this woman crawled out from under, but she needs to do her homework, she needs to shut her mouth and HEAR what her patients are saying, before she passes judgment on them.

No one who has been free from the fog of being over medicated would ever want to go back. It's just as bad as the darkness of pain.

All a Physician has to do is communicate, give and take with the patient to achieve this. I've had ONE in my life. A tiny Pakistani woman who believed I knew my body better than a text book knew it. Believed in a combination of Holistic and Western healing. We worked together as a team, when she moved her practice to Arizona, I began getting passed from one resident to another.

My life has slowly decreased in quality ever since, and there's not a fucking thing I can do to stop it.

They want to start cutting on my back now. Knowing nothing about my life and the small child who's only support is ME. Brilliant! Let's dare not look at the more realistic options like COMMUNICATING WITH YOUR PATIENT to find a less invasive alternative.

I will address the treatment I received on Friday with my insurance carrier. It will not happen again. They don't pay for me to see some idiot, they pay for me to see my Primary Care Physician. Someone I thought might know his shit...if I can get care directly proportionate to my condition, and not someones "Label".

I'm tired you guys, hope is fading fast, and right around the corner is winter.
If you live with Chronic pain, you know what I'm talking about.

Think "Happy Thoughts" for Apostol...and if you do happen to have spare explosives, you know my email.

...and no, venting did not help, but thanks for letting me whine : )

Bill Gates Bitch

My Big Fat Greek Mouth, has overloaded my Big Fat Greek Ass yet once again...
"Suuuure I can handle "Web Articles", noooo problem, don't sweat it, take a load off, rest assured, easy does it" and on, and on, and on.

I cannot handle "Web Articles", something I'm almost certain Mer could do in his sleep...but no, I KNOW EVERYTHING!

The really sad part is I know people, several at First Church who, being good Unitarians, would question me ceaselessly, then invent some variable of the Internet "Equation". Convincing me it would solve world hunger and global warming at the same time.

Yet being a "Greek Gone Bad" (AKA leaving the Orthodoxy), I am physically, unable to pick up the phone and ask for that word beginning in "H". While habanera's are my favorite fruit, that's not the "H" I'm speaking of.

Dare anyone believe I do not KNOW EVERYTHING (cough), for survival of the fittest has nothing to do with what's in your bank account (thank God). Survival of the fittest is OBVIOUSLY in reference to whom is the better poker player. Duh?

The client is unfortunately a friend of mine, which in Greece would mean she would have all authority to cut off my ear if I can't get her website done by deadline.

I like my ear, I wear glasses at times quite necessary.
Driving, viewing small print, finding the bathroom at night.
My ear is a nice accoutrement to my other ear.

"Web Articles" = I am now Bill Gates Bitch.
Microsoft is like a car with five wheels...
Where is the God Ubuntu when I need him?

Match.com vs. My 3rd Broken RED Mr. Coffee Coffee Maker

 Let's just put it this way...unless you desire your inbox slammed to pieces, DO NOT give your email address to Match.com.

See my friend Jeanne, who happens to also be my Dentist and is on Faculty at O.U., recently met the man of her dreams there. Until then I was utterly convinced it was another "Take your money Net scam".

Jeanne is goo ga over this guy, the feelings are mutual and I couldn't be happier for both of them (unless of course she relocates and takes my mouth with her)...

Ah love...it makes me break out in hives. Nonetheless, I'm not getting any younger, have intentionally spent the last six years alone, going to school, raising Mer, buying a home, all the things people do as...you know, couples. If I continue at this rate, Mer will be an orphan.

One human being cannot do it all...or can they?

I have a meeting in an hour, woke up to my 3rd broken RED Mr Coffee Coffee Maker, flew out the door at 6 AM leaving a sleeping Mer in a house with 32 candles lit, began to focus about the time I pulled into the Starbuck's drive-thru, ordered two Vente quad Pumpkin Spice latte's (because I was asleep that's why), slammed one on the way home, clamored in the house to rouse Mer, was spiking his hair as he brushed his teeth, shoved a piece of toast in his mouth on the way out the door to school, came home hit the shower, made my 9 AM by the skin of my teeth, back to my office to try and get Apple Care on the phone (which I don't have the patience to wait for)
something sparkly caught my eye and it was all over...

After my meeting I'm strapping explosives to me, taking my 3rd broken RED Mr Coffee Coffee Maker back to Target with a note of my demands:

"Dear Customer Service - In adding up the amount of money put forth towards my previous Mr. Coffee purchases over the last 18 months, I have concluded a nice "Bunn" would be an adequate exchange. Given the level of duress and undue anxiety placed upon me by the choices in merchandise you offer customers.
Therefore, given my extremely unstable, painful condition, a direct result of Target and it's retail options...effective immediately this RED Mr. Coffee Coffee Maker will be exchanged for this (hold up Bunn) exceptional quality Bunn.

Sincerely,
a valued Target Customer"

See, that's so simple.
Maybe I'm not ready for a relationship. 

East Side Living is a Choice

I have to stop reading the daily...it just pisses me off.
This mornings article on East Side housing problems here brings to light the fact people don't have to stay where they are.

Literally or metaphorically.
It, like everything else in life is a choice.

I know too Ken. I lived there.
One year was all it took, living in crack infested Project housing, for me to know I had to make better choices in life.
For myself, for my son.

From The Projects to The Hood, I fought my way out.
I wrote letters, I put on my "Happy Face", I got an education.
Driving miles and miles each day, leaving Mer in state sanctioned Day Care facilities to be yelled at and tormented by anyone who could "Fill the position".

Do you know why people stay on that side of town?
Because they want to.
Crime rates are up everywhere, even where I live now, it doesn't matter.

We make choices every day, choices affecting tomorrow.
We max out our plastic and live in slavery, we hit Remington in the hopes of magical fixes to our "Problems".

If you have a problem money can fix you don't have a problem,
you have a consequence.

"Criminal Minds"

Holy Mother of Disabled American Vets, what is going ON?

In a Daily headline here urging ex-felons to vote (dig, dig, dig) I'm reminded of the gentleman I know who, due to a severe case of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, began drinking again to self medicate...the drinking lead to "Criminal Minds" (Hot young profiler in Cardigan w/ heat on hip)
One thing lead to another, and he was eventually stripped of his Social Security Disability Rights.

Rights which enable this man to function, seek adequate medical treatment, keep a roof over his head, get his meds, AND stay off the corner of 39th and I-40 as a professional sign flier, eh hem.

We want the convicted felons to vote, but we don't want our disabled vets to have appropriate care. Well...OK.

God Bless The Queen!

Hope

For the first time in many, many years I feel like medically I'm in the hands of a Pit Bull.
A Pit Bull who wont just let me wither away into nothingness again.



I went to see my beloved "Allen" the Pharmacist, another one of my Pit Bulls in waiting.
We have this "Deal" he and I (God everyone wants "Deals")

He's allowed to call me on my shit, and I'm allowed to follow him to his residence with a .380 automatic...or listen, which might be the lesser of two evils in the long run.

My Pit Bull Doc seems to think highly of the practice of medicine, as opposed to his own ego. Something I certainly can't relate to, but I hear Christian Martyrs can.

Care is a strange thing, after so many months in pain, once I got to the point of utterly giving up on anyone giving a crap about the person and not the "Diagnosis"... I found a place of strength and acceptance which allowed the choppy tides to turn.

Whether or not surgery will be a viable option with my "Life Circumstances" (barf), I still don't know. What I do know is my head is starting to clear again, and even though I'm worn out from spending so many months in pain...

I have hope again.
Who said Pit Bulls were all bad?

Once Again...Oklahoma Judicial System Proves Moronic.

In a story reported here by the Daily OK, an Attorney, one Steve Liles is now "Barred for Life" for falling in love, having a child out of wedlock while married to another woman. Actions transpiring over a 23 year period.

"Scandalous"reports of misconduct related to Mr. Liles then secretary, one Dawn Lukasik, who informed Mr. Liles years later...lo and freakin behold "Baby, you have a son from our little love fest...but sweet cheeks he's in prison now" (bat, bat, bat)

Thereby Mr. Liles and Ms. Lukasik (who had developed a nasty little meth addiction at some point) spent time, money and effort to reacquaint Mr Liles with his incarcerated son.

The rats.

At Mr. Liles disciplinary hearing last year, he stated "I was plain stupid. I wasn't thinking straight.”

He also said last year he was "regretful, remorseful and extremely sorry” for his mistakes. He said, "The issue is: Did I do things that I shouldn't have done? Absolutely.”

Mr. Liles has reimbursed the courts for false travel expenses, false expenses related to office remodeling, allegedly done by Ms. Meth, er Lukasik...of over $4,000, the dudes at the very least attempting to rectify his situation with the Bar, unlike SOME Attorneys we know.

Ms. Lukasik eventually went to prison in '05 on meth related charges after admitting she had a problem (no shit) , Mr Liles divorced his wife in 2006, and married Ms. Lukasik upon her release from prison last year.

Sooo, WHAT? I mean we have these guys here, pulling heir drunkalog and they'll get a slap on the wrist, we have Judges with sex toys under their bench (Oh yeah baby)...

and Liles is disbarred for LIFE? Oklahoma just plain ROCKS the judicial system.

June 21st vs. Sept.15th news story here on Child neglect charges...

I feel safe, don't you?

"Photo Opps" or "Why I'm Always Late For Carpool"

The Difference Between Myself and my NEWLY Pregnant Friend, as Chronicled in Email Transactions

 

On Sep 14, 2008, at 5:14 AM,

How ya feelin mama?
I sure miss you.
((love's the baby feet))

Love you,
Apostol

  "Blankety-Blank-Blank" wrote: I'm feeling good!! Get tired really easily. Haven"t been sick once. Thank you God!!! We go back this Friday for another vaginal ultrasound. I'll be 8 1/2 weeks.

How are you sweet pea? You are volunteering a lot. I miss u too.  

 

On Sep 14, 2008, at 3:16,PM

  Hell, yes...you just wait mama...
Ten years from now...Oh hell at this rate I'll be dead ten years from now...
but in case I'm not, I want you to push me in my wheel chair, the one I'm in because of repeated massive grand mals from all the fucking commitments I make to ensure the little ingrate doesn't end up like me.

They're so cute before they learn to bitch-slap your ass and say "No MOTHER, I'm doing Webelos ( plus camp outs), Chess Club, Honors Art, Honors Choir, AND Honors Strings...so suck it up"

Other than that, it's OK...really.

(Psssst "Duct tape" shhhh)

I never got sick with...uhhh, Mer, yeah, Mer, never not once.

Remodeled the entire two story, five bed house in Lakehurst during my first and second Tri, was in the process of putting a new roof on when Mer arrived.
 

Coulda been all the crank I was doing, but I think it was just a serious case of "Nesting Girls Gone Wild" (you can order a copy on Blue Light Forums)

Love you,
The guilt riddled Greek mama
Apostol

Gov's Kid to Gangsta's...What's a Mom to Do?

OK, my kids been on the phone with The "G's" kid for half an hour, and my little wolf in sheep's clothing just said "Um, Bailey...I've already wasted half an hour listening to you blah, blah, blah...I gotta go."

Oh my, etiquette aside, is he actually LISTENING to me when it comes to girls?
I'm proud, in a sort of trailer park way, Mer is standing up for himself rather than being walked all over by the femme fetales who call late at night.

Mer is as you well know, quite sheltered from the, how can I say this without sounding like a total biotch? The children whose parents forget them at school? Yeah, that's an acceptable way of putting it. The Forgetables.

This afternoon as we were preparing to watch a movie, one of the neighborhood children, a year older than Mer who is allowed to wander the streets aimlessly while his father is in the joint, showed up on our front door step in a downpour.

Soaked from head to toe, and me being the mother hen I am, decided (with the still recoverying side of my brain) letting him in the house to watch the movie with us was a GOOD idea.

Two hours later, after regaling the horrors of his fathers escapades that landed him incapacitado to Mer (who looked at me with mouth agape) the movie ended, the rain had weakened, and the child was sent on his way (after scoping the place out)

Now, I know how judgmental I sound, for he is after all a victim of circumstances beyond his control. Mer, however is not. I plan on keeping it that way no matter how badly he begs to be let out of the basement.

From my Hard-Ass Baby-Birthin' Friend Liz The Doula

Liz has polite, perfectly formed testicalia.
Liz, will not take shit from anyone...with a smile of course.
Liz, sends ME things that make me use my menopausal gray matter.
Liz, pisses people off and is OK with that fact.
Liz worked the Gustav shelter Clinic with me (a different suburb of our small city)
Liz hard balled junkies all day long (because she can and will)
Liz, stands knee-high to a dripping wet June bug, but knows her rights and others.

Liz, made me angry just now when I read the Women Against Sarah Palin blog.
Anger at self for being too into self to notice what has slipped in under my nose while I was running car pool, grocery shopping, getting Mer-boy's glasses fixed, trying to start a business, and living with chronic pain (Me, me, me, me ,me, me, meeeee)...or others, matters not.

Point is I'm LIVID with my lack of "Important Information" gathering techniques.
They suck-butt.

So take the time, whether you're a fan of "The Vagina Monolouges" or "Championship Wrestling", to read what kind of feedback Palin is getting over using what each one of us deal with on a daily basis, as candidacy worthiness, and qualifications.

My friend Lara calls Palin, "Lynn Spears" (ya know Brittany, err Brittney WTFlip ever)
How many Americans do you think believe women get equal pay in 2008?
How many Americans have ever seen a botched abortion by an East side Crack Doc?
How many Americans wonder just why it is we have a near epidemic onslaught of Autistic children in this country vs European nations?

Ladies, most of you who've read me before are fully aware of Mer-boy's special needs. Does that fact make me a candidate for VP? Does having given up my daughter for adoption make it even more so?

I am one of the unseen in this nation, as I cannot even get a "Best Buy" credit card as a homeowner, since I'm a single mother and officially, undeniably, "self"-employed, therefore a RISK. (oooooh)
Enter Mr. Wrong (cuz they all are in my life), and my credit risk would diminish to near nothing.

What I can do is vote my voice in November.
Remember the saying "There is power in numbers"?
Sweet Mother of Guadelupe don't lose your beautiful voices.

Or eyesight for that matter...

IKE

The ARC just called a ton of us in on this monster headed toward the gulf coast.

I
I will give what I can give, because that's what I do today, I give, not take.
suspect they'll have a lot of people in burn-out mode this time, trying to get volunteers may prove even more challenging.
My business cards finally came, just in time for me to pass them out to HOMELESS PEOPLE!

Shit.

Still trying to get fence work done in trade for that old fridge I paid almost $300 for two years ago...barter seems better in this economy, doesn't it?

Hey, I'm OK with the fact I'll be "The Crazy old Cat lady" (who still can't let herself love animals for fear of losing them again)

My neighbor across the street, buys houses and cars like they are nothing...I am not a rich woman, and it hurts my heart when people who have so much only want MORE, more, more, to be OK with themselves and their place on this earth.

I have friends who's families are made up of wondrous colors, and aching, overflowing love. I have friends who wont leave the house to pick up their children from school, who don't attend school functions, who don't participate in their babies lives...and sometimes, just for a split second when I'm utterly exhausted...I envy their apathetic stance.

The consequences of not loving your children are so great, I whine about raising one by myself. I am naturally a self centered human being. It's against my nature to help and love others, to give of myself. I'm the woman with the Prada bag and the sports car, being groomed to be the Attorney's wife who was never going to have children.

I'm the woman who lost her entire family by the age of 29.
I am the woman who has done everything under the sun NOT to be the mother I had.

I don't know where "Family" is...cousins, aunts, uncles...they were never around much anyway. My little brother turned out to be a joke and what does any of this have to do with IKE?

Hello World.

By Maureen Dowd

Published: August 31, 2008
PITTSBURGH

The guilty pleasure I miss most when I’m out slogging on the campaign trail is the chance to sprawl on the chaise and watch a vacuously spunky and generically sassy chick flick.

So imagine my delight, my absolute astonishment, when the hokey chick flick came out on the trail, a Cinderella story so preposterous it’s hard to
believe it’s not premiering on Lifetime. Instead of going home and watching “Miss Congeniality” with Sandra Bullock, I get to stay here and watch “Miss Congeniality” with Sarah Palin.

Sheer heaven.

It’s easy to see where this movie is going. It begins, of course, with a
cute, cool unknown from Alaska who has never even been on “Meet the Press” triumphing over a cute, cool unknowable from Hawaii who has been on “Meet the Press” a lot.

Americans, suspicious that the Obamas have benefited from affirmative action without being properly grateful, and skeptical that Michelle really likes “The Brady Bunch” and “The Dick Van Dyke Show,” reject the 47-year-old black contender as too uppity and untested.

Instead, they embrace 72-year-old John McCain and 44-year-old Sarah Palin, whose average age is 58, a mere two years older than the average age of the Obama-Biden ticket. Enthusiastic Republicans don’t see the choice of Palin as affirmative action, despite her thin résumé and gaping absence of foreign policy knowledge, because they expect Republicans to put an under qualified “babe,” as Rush Limbaugh calls her, on the ticket. They have a tradition of nominating fun, bantamweight cheerleaders from the West, like the previous Miss Congeniality types Dan Quayle and W., and then letting them learn on the job. So they crash into the globe a few times while they’re learning to drive, what’s the big deal?

Obama may have been president of The Harvard Law Review, but Palin graduated from the University of Idaho with a minor in poli-sci and worked briefly as a TV sports reporter. And she was tougher on the basketball court than the ethereal Obama, earning the nickname “Sarah Barracuda.”

The legacy of Geraldine Ferraro was supposed to be that no one would ever go on a blind date with history again. But that crazy maverick and gambler McCain does it, and conservatives and evangelicals rally around him in admiration of his refreshingly cynical choice of Sarah, an evangelical Protestant and anti-abortion crusader who became a hero when she decided to have her baby, who has Down syndrome, and when she urged schools to debate creationism as well as that stuffy old evolution thing.

Palinistas, as they are called, love Sarah’s spunky, relentlessly quirky
“Northern Exposure” story from being a Miss Alaska runner-up, and winning Miss Congeniality, to being mayor and hockey mom in Wasilla, a rural Alaskan town of 6,715, to being governor for two years to being the first woman ever to run on a national Republican ticket. (Why do men only pick women as running mates when they need a Hail Mary pass? It’s a little insulting.)

Sarah is a zealot, but she’s a fun zealot. She has a beehive and sexy shoes, and the day she’s named she goes shopping with McCain in Ohio for a cheerleader outfit for her daughter.

As she once told Vogue, she’s learned the hard way to deal with press
comments about her looks. “I wish they’d stick with the issues instead of
discussing my black go-go boots,” she said. “A reporter once asked me about it during the campaign, and I assured him I was trying to be as frumpy as I could by wearing my hair on top of my head and these schoolmarm glasses.”

This chick flick, naturally, features a wild stroke of fate, when the
two-year governor of an oversized igloo becomes commander in chief after the president-elect chokes on a pretzel on day one.

The movie ends with the former beauty queen shaking out her pinned-up hair, taking off her glasses, slipping on ruby red peep-toe platform heels that reveal a pink French-style pedicure, and facing down Vladimir Putin in an island in the Bering Strait. Putting away her breast pump, she points her rifle and informs him frostily that she has some expertise in Russia because it’s close to Alaska. “Back off, Commie dude,” she says. “I’m a much better shot than Cheney.”

Then she takes off in her seaplane and lands on the White House lawn, near the new ice fishing hole and hockey rink. The “First Dude,” as she calls the hunky Eskimo in the East Wing, waits on his snowmobile with the kids — Track (named after high school track meets), Bristol (after Bristol Bay where they did commercial fishing), Willow (after a community in Alaska), Piper (just a cool name) and Trig (Norse for “strength.”)

“The P.T.A. is great preparation for dealing with the K.G.B.,” President
Palin murmurs to Todd, as they kiss in the final scene while she changes
Trig’s diaper. “Now that Georgia’s safe, how ’bout I cook you up some
caribou hot dogs and moose stew for dinner, babe?”


Greg and Madeline Chaney

The "Haves" and The "Have Not's"

My PC did it's "Thing" again and I lost my post...someone telling me to shut my big fat Greek mouth.

It's a cool Fall morning, and I have clean-up to do at school with what's left of me, a Birthday party to take Mer to this afternoon, and the world still feels off kilter. Nothing is the same.

The ARC wanted me down at the shelter today and I had to say "No"
Which is a very difficult thing for me, as you've picked up on by now.

Half the people I talk to don't know we have a shelter here.
The other half either don't care, or can't help.

I know people with so much money, they could pay my mortgages for a year and not think twice about it. Yet their problems far outweigh those of displaced people who "Put themselves in that position to begin with"

That's what I heard three times yesterday from people I never thought would say something of that nature.

"The Haves" and "The Have Not's" Walter Benton circa 1921
I wonder which kind I'm raising in this world?

Gustav Shelter Oklahoma City Cont.

Yesterday was a CLUSTER F*%K at the Gustav shelter (of course the RNC is now taking top story across the nation)

I spent the day at what the OKC Police officers were calling "The Cattle Cate" (no shit) listening to all but two of them be bigoted ass holes. They just stood there as I held babies, threw myself in the face of angry humans and talked to them like I wanted to be talked to.

WHY did we bring these people here to be treated like garbage?
Does food, shelter, and a hard cot consist of decency toward our brothers and sisters?

I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside the shelter, one because the media was being shuffled into a conferencing area, and two because I had no time.
As I was trying to wind my way around the "cattle guards", the kids from Washington state grabbed me and there I was facing a quarter mile long, winding path of frustrated, human beings...and this is how the brilliant boys in blue were doing it.

A stack of papers attached to a clipboard were itemized by zip code.
One at a time an Evacuee would reach their place at the head of the line (after their names had already been called to board) and this little blond girl named Jessica, who spent 14 hours in a mini van to get here from Wa. St. and I would try and find their name (some registrants had listed together as families of 10, 14, one group of 43, another of 18 ESL students from Korea (welcome to America), it was pure insanity to have to tell random people their names were not on our list, and therefore they must return to the back of the line.

Meanwhile we had FIVE - SEVEN giant armed officers standing around with their thumbs up their butts behind us. Only two of which seemed to be doing anything to help. (Dale, THANK YOU!)

I ran the line three times yelling "Five buses are here, two more just pulled in, YOU ARE GOING HOME...PLEASE BE PATIENT, THANK YOU!!"

No one was telling them anything, they didn't know what was happening, you can't do that to people and expect them to stay calm, to be happy, joyous and free...how absurd.

The look on the faces all day, one after another, it changed me deeply.

I literally came home and collapsed, shivering from pain so severe I couldn't stand, couldn't get out from under the blanket. No temperature, just heart broken...heart-changed, sleeping 14 hours through.

Thank you Lara for feeding Mer-boy, I literally could not move after three days straight (on my way home the ARC called to ask if I could work Saturday also...where is EVERYONE??)

The reality that most, if not all of the Evac's had family. Family they were so afraid they wouldn't get to stay with, so afraid they'd lose if they got on different buses, so afraid, so tired, so at their wits end.

They are this nations "non-beings", they are mostly black, Hispanic, mixed, poor, disabled, female, children...and we as a country have made an executive decision to ignore everything but their basic needs for survival.

I know this song all too well...

I pray to God folks get home and somehow find these articles, somehow know it wasn't everyone in Oklahoma who "believes" the same way. Who SEES them as people who have rights, who deserve more than what they've received in the last week.

We have all conveniently forgotten Katrina, and since Gustav wasn't THAT bad... we now as a nation focus our attention to the National Republican Convention (riiiiight).

I know of two other people who have helped with the Evac's this week. TWO.
And while the local news streams out garbage about how great it is, how happy everyone is with how they've been treated at the shelter...this Photojournalist knows better, and I'm telling you the truth if you care to know.

It's not a sense of "Entitlement" that makes human beings want to be treated like human beings, it's a sense of right and wrong...and I'm so very confused by what I have seen. When it comes down to it, there's a judgment against, that cannot be denied.

I am not, nor was I ever, afraid of these people, and yet I was told repeatedly I should be...I'm still trying to figure out why?

Because they were poor?
Because they were mostly black?
Because they were "thieves"?
Because they were "rapists"?

Do they love?
Do they have families?
Do they bleed?
Do they cry?
Do they HAVE RIGHTS?

Do they, or does the Government just want us to THINK they do?

Gustav Shelter Cont.

Gee...they sure make it sound great don't they?
The problem with the mass media is it's so tainted, so yellowed, so untrue.

As of yesterday when I left, there was a balloon bounce that hadn't been blown up, some kids books thrown on a table, I never saw a basketball goal, nor board games. People weren't allowed to use the inside bathrooms STILL, being forced outside in the cold and rain.

Continuously talking with folks to let them know what was going on, because the ratio of people who knew, to people who didn't was way off kilter.

Spent an hour with one of the IT guys getting the streaming video of a New Orleans station to run from the net on the wall so people could huddle around and find out what was happening at home.

People just want to go home, and we're trying to get them there.

My Kingdom for narcotics...

Gustav Shelter Oklahoma

I spent all day yesterday down at the Lucent Building, helping out with the Red Cross.

I was literally the last to arrive at the briefing and one of the only four they grabbed to immediately take down.
For all they new I was a pedophile on the lamb from some other state...we just flew to the other side of town.

What made me sick was how the Facilitator was speaking about, and to, this group of volunteers...telling them "if they dressed up it was their fault if they got raped"

(Good thing we weren't in a courtroom huh?)

She spoke of the refugees like they were animals, like they were inhumane creatures of the night, ready to pounce and take your soul.

If a disaster hit Oklahoma, it would be Mer and I in a shelter somewhere...all any of us have is temporary, it doesn't matter as long as we're safe. Why are these people any different?

I met a kid named "Red", who only wants a basketball goal and music (Red likes music).

The MEDIA is lying...again, telling us they have computer access and televisions, when the TV is a big screen with no sound, and the gazillion computers are allocated for red cross, police, civic, etc. personnel only.

The Red Cross has a website up, but no one can access it. Most of these people don't know how to use computers.

Yesterday, I was told they were expecting 2200 additional evacuee's due to flooding.
Can we get a little human decency here?
What would YOU want if YOU were in their position?

Why hasn't our Mayor organized a bus trip to the OKC Zoo, or Frontier City?

Not one single political person has gone down to that shelter, the red cross has it organized like a cluster fuck, we were doing things by hand, PAPERWORK, that could have easily been handled by an email to Jonathan.

A small piece of software would make it so much easier, safe, and fast...but no, we had to do it their way. (Good God, people are out of money, patience and time...let's see how long we can drag this out K?)

Oh, here's the one that'll get you...
The bus trip, the one that everyones screeching about, all of those 32 buses that brought the refugees in to OKC, do you know who had to PAY for the bus trip?

THE EVACUEES! Some people spent their last dime to get their family to safety and now have no money, no way to get home.
I spent 30 minutes speaking to a group of people telling them the Governor had requested financial assistance, disaster assistance for the state of Oklahoma, and assuring them WE, as OKLAHOMAN'S would make sure they got home when it was time.

Now OKLAHOMA, I'm speaking to you.

WE had, as of 3:00 p.m. yesterday, 1879 people in the Lucent building, with the youngest being ONE WEEK OLD.
WE had 187 children under the age of 17, most under the age of 12.
They have no toys, they have nothing to do, the need OUR help.

If WE cannot organize something for these children, I'm ashamed to be an OKLAHOMAN.

Lets get "Red" her basketball goal music, because no one else is going to do it.

I want this GRAND country we live in to stand up and say "I'll help, because I'm an AMERICAN"

Where the hell is BILLY RAY when you need him, or TOBY KEITH?

WE have GUESTS in our fine state who are sleeping on cots in a warehouse, and I'm ashamed of our HOTELS, I'm ashamed we have been told they are animals.

They are human beings, the question is...
Are WE?

Formal Retraction

Formal retraction:
The PTA El Presidente is not who I thought it was.
Gulp.

Good Cop Bad Cop

I wake Mer up in an hour for school.

The big PTA kick-off is this evening, and to be completely honest...it's going to be very difficult working with the new El Presidente'.

I was a bit disheartened to hear she'd obtained the position last year knowing her personality (Congresswoman yes, PTA President NO), but thought nothing more of it until the way she spoke to myself and another parent on Friday.

Condescending, belittling, and a tad bit on the dehumanizing side (just a tad)

There are certain types of people in this world who have an inert need to exert power over others, instead of lifting them up. Types who, no matter what you do you get the sense you cannot please.

I am tempted to blow off any and all participation involving direct contact with this woman, but instead, will use my "Loon Whispering" abilities to gently confront, set boundaries, and attempt to soothe the power hungry beast within.

Or I could just hope she settles down after a few weeks...as if.

Jesus. The other parent and I just looked at each other and both agreed it was going to be a loooooooooooooooong year. Sigh.

I want to use "The Foreman Scotty Foundation Inc." to make a substantial difference in every child's life. Not walk around with a clipboard playing Good Cop/Bad Cop.

It takes a village. (One my brother doesn't live in, but I keep calling and leaving messages.)

All I know is nothing, but if you ask me I'll spend the rest of the day telling you about it.

If you can't make a difference in a child's life.
You're not worthy of my time.
So put away the clipboard, roll up your sleeves, and get ready to get dirty.

We have to pull together or we fall apart.
It takes humor, kindness, patience, love, (BIG love) tolerance, and self forgetting.

Are you in?

Sum-"Mer" Fading

The last day of Summer is fading fast.

I lay here watching people play, slide, dive...
So deeply I've missed Mer's and my summer play.
Eight months now since I've been able to move well enough to give him physical therapy.

So grateful for every day Mer-boy has had at the pool,
to stretch, swim, strengthen, keep the pain at bay.
What will happen from here I don't know. We'll make it like always.

For today, this moment, I'm thinking of Anne Morrow Lindberg and her gifts from the sea.

The End