Friday, December 13, 2002

Brown Cowboy BootsFriday, December 13, 2002

Brown Cowboy Boots

A long time ago, when I was a small, small girl. I think about 4 or 5. (It was before we moved to Washington) My step-father William took my siblings and I too a western ware store. It was in the JC Penney shopping center, in Santa Maria. He took us through the rows of boots and found some that fit us.


He ended up buying me brown cowboy boots and my brother a black pair. He also bought us cowboy hats. I remember we would shine those boots next to my dad as he would shine his. I had a little tin of brown shine, and my brother had black. We would use little brushes and this special cloth. I don't remember what happened to them.

Wednesday, December 11, 2002

Wednesday, December 11, 2002

Cutie Pies

I cut my sons hair today. Both of them. I did pretty good I think. They had been running around with hair in their eyes and I knew it was time to cut it. I put them in their high chair and wrapped a towel around their neck. Then I just trimmed anything that was hanging around their eyes and ears and nape. *super mommy*


*smiles*

Saturday, November 30, 2002

Saturday, November 30, 2002

OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! OuCHIE oooh, eeek BLICK BLasted

Its 4:45 am and my brilliant ass thought she could pop into the shower and pop out, and then prepare breakfast for the hoard. (husband, husband's brother, his two kids, and our two kids) I started shaving my legs and thought if I press down a little harder I won't have to go back over again. All is fine, and I do my shin and I proceed to take off a whole strip of skin. I feel a slight sting and I look down and my leg is covered in blood. When I calmed down enough to check it out, I had a three inch, red oozy strip of no-skin.


It hurts. *frowns* Not an auspicious start to this day.

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

Financial Planning

Its funny how when one is starving, all one's thoughts are consumed by food. Its amazing how when one finally obtains food, it looses its appeal. Every day that I didn't have something to eat, I would think of all the things I would make if I just had a piece of chicken, or if I just had a box of noodles. We were living on rice and water. Then my husband got paid and I was able to buy food and pay off some bills. So much relief, now I am just not hungry. I guess my stomach has shrunk a bit.


This time I set aside 60 dollars. That 60 dollars will be used if we run out of milk, diapers, food, or something important. Next check, I want it to be 120 dollars, and so on, so that we can grow a savings account and never have to go hungry again. Its not fair to my children. I made deals with my credit card companies and made payments. I should have my debt removed in 5 years. Now I am looking to the future. My two sons are going to want to go to college, and they will need cars, and then a retirement fund for my husband and I. I am looking into investment information. Its kind of fun. *smiles*


This is what I have figured out so far. I don't want to go into the stock market as I am not aware of the current trends, and its foolish to put everything in something so volitile. I will start with a simple savings account. As soon as I have $1000. I will open a CD account. Certificate of Deposit. I will place it in there for 5 years. Currently, the apy (annual percent yield) is 5.03% at the bank I am using. ( I will search around for better ones, later.) I will keep money in the regular savings account for emergencies, and holidays, etc. After 5 years of continually investing in the CD, I will close it and open a money market account, hopefully with $10,000. I have only studied my options for about two weeks, but I feel that once I start investing, I should go for mutual funds. A mutual fund is an account with many stock in the portfolio. At any one time, the individual stock may be going up or down, but since there is so much variety in the portfolio, the idea is that the majority of the stock will be going up, therebye yielding more money.


All the money makes the IRS (Internal Revenue Service: the guys and gals that make sure us American working folks pay our taxes and all that good stuff) hounds circle, so I plan to open IRA (Individual Retirement Accounts) and EIRA (Educational IRA) for my husband, me, and my children. It lets me have mutual funds and savings in the IRA and EIRA's, all tax free. They stay tax free until its time to take out the money.


So, I have an idea in my head of what I am going to do. All I have to do is save that first $1000.

Thursday, November 21, 2002

Requesting One Muse ...Thursday, November 21, 2002

Sitting at my desk, I sift my thoughts through a sieve. My mind is sometimes paralyzed by the whiteness of a computer screen and the space to be filled. I feel and see life, emotion, and history happening everyday and I am scared that my talent falls short of expressing it. I read what others write, and I read books and I doubt myself. I doubt my ability. This is the last thing I have. My writing is the last facet of my personality that is still mine and not marked or intruded upon by outside forces.

I had found my best friend the moment I learned to read. I craved books more than I craved food. More than I craved for sunlight, or for running amongst other children. While some parents were trying to get their children to stop watching television, my mother was forcing me to watch television so I would stop reading. She even went as far as to hide books from me as punishment. Fictional characters were my friends, my beau's, my arch enemies, my travel agents, and my lovers. And I wanted to give to the world, everything that books gave to me. I wanted to be able to set to paper a masterpiece that would make someone cry, and make them have a change of perspective. Now, I think that I am just dreaming.


How to organize the jumble of words that vibrate in my head?


There is so much beauty in the written word, and such a large expanse and room for growth. Words can paint pictures and create moods and destroy souls. It has been my greatest pleasure to create stories and poetry. It has also been my greatest defeat. I fear not finding the right word or the right sentence to express what I feel. I have always wanted this, and yet, it seems like I have done everything to make it not happen. Every story I have started gets set aside and eventually discarded, and my poetry needs revision, and I let them fade away on paper, untouched. I see other people writing and I think, 'how do they do it? How can they sit and get it all out?'


What does this all lead to? I feel like my mind is rotting and that I am vegetating. I don't desire to write like I once did.


Requesting one muse. Even if its the runtiest muse in all musedom.

Tuesday, November 12, 2002

Bushisms - Tuesday, November 12, 2002

After a meeting with French diplomats, George W,. Bush was asked about the problems with the French economy, and replied, "The problem with the French is that they don't have any word for entrepreneur in their language." The New Yorker

*hangs head in shame*


If you don't know whats wrong with that paragraph, and why its so embarrassing, then send me an e-mail and I will berate you for free.

Thursday, September 19, 2002

Thursday, September 19, 2002

I went to the interview today. It was very disappointing. The interviewer, Melany, had a major crisis, and she needed things done...TODAY. (her words) So she was on the phone the first ten minutes I was there. I kept smiling and successfully stopped myself from fidgeting. I tried to appear oblivious to her rather...strong telephone conversations. When she got off the phone she introduced herself, and I introduced myself. I started the handshake, and I think she liked that. We walked to her office, and within one second the phone was ringing and she was having arguments and stressing out. I smiled sympathetically and another 5-10 minutes passed. She finally got off the phone and said, 'this is how things are around here.' She gave me a brief description of the job, and asked if I could work the hours they wanted. I said I could and that was all. I expected more, but she got right back on the phone. She told me they would call me back for a second interview if I was one of the people they liked. I don't hold much hope in that. How could she have liked me if she was so preoccupied?

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

Jobs & Rugrats - Wednesday, September 18, 2002

It feels like I am starting my first day of school again. My clothes are all neatly laid out for tomorrow. There are butterflies in my stomach, and I sorely want my interviewers to like me. It all depends on me, and that pressure has always been hard to take. I want to give a good impression. I will try to be friendly, yet professional. If I can just get my mind and body to cooperate. I am having images of myself saying something stupid, or being unable to speak. *shakes head*

Now that the being employed full-time is in the picture again, I am saddened. These past few weeks with my children have been wonderful. They have bonded with me in a way that I hadn't felt in months. When I would go to work every day, I would see their affection for their caregiver, and feel envy and longing for their complete love and adoration. I hated leaving them, but now that I know them even more and have seen all the new things that they have learned, leaving them now will be like tearing off a limb.

My youngest son Eleazar was the most indifferent of my two boys. He was so close to my mother that he would turn to her for his needs. So if he were hungry, he would seek her out, if he was sleepy, he would look for her arms. It cut so deep when he turned away from me. But now he runs to me, and even gives me little kisses. He has learned to give me a high-five like my eldest son, Micael. I can't help crying now. It hurts so much.

Seeing them interact together was amazing as well. Amidst my worrying about their sibling rivalry, my little boys had become best friends. They chase each other, mimic each others voices, and they can't take a nap or go to sleep without the other. They have even started making plans. My eldest son grabs a box or his potty and helps my youngest son look out the window. Its like watching an episode of the Rug Rats. *smiles* As I laid them in bed tonight, and they snuggled close together, my heart filled with such a beautiful love. I may call them brats sometimes, even boogers, but they are as vital to me as breath.


*sigh*


So tomorrow I go and present myself to my prospective employers. It will be bittersweet if I get the job.



---Later that day ----



YAY! WOOP! I got an interview.

I called all the temp agencies where I had given my resume and application and asked them if they had any updates. They had just sent in my resume to a location that wanted someone full time from 11am-7pm. They took ten minutes to call the agency back and they want me to interview tomorrow. WOOP! I am so happy. Wish me luck, pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeee. I need this job.

Friday, July 19, 2002

Friday, July 19, 2002

I am walking in superspeed and my mind is going in slow motion. My mother called me from Oakland this morning, before I went to work, and said that they found a cyst in her stomach. They saw it on an ultrasound machine, and then through a camera they inserted in her stomach. They will have to preform a biopsy on it to determine if it is a tumor, and if it is malignant, or benign. I am not feeling much of anything but numbness. I can't get scared because it might just be a benign tumor/cyst thingie that can be removed and thats that. Or it can be cancer. She has been feeling very sick, so the probability that this is a malignant tumor is a possibility and this chance of it being cancer has made me go into a weird state. I can think, and laugh, and smile, and all the things I usually do, but just below the surface is the fear for my mother. I have thought about it more than a hundred times today.

For all the pain, and neglect, and aching my mother has put me through, I love her dearly. So much. When I talk to her, I get upset easily because she always seem to be against me, and she still puts me down. Yet, for all her faults I see a wonderful woman, who never let her children go hungry, who worked in the fields to make ends meet, who jumped into dumpsters to collect cans so that we could have clothes for school. I am proud of the person she is and was.

I can't imagine life without her. If she did have cancer, I know she wouldn't die right away, she might even make it through it..but I think of the pain that the cure causes. I have never been around people with cancer, but from what I have read and seen about it, the means in which they treat it are very painful. I don't want her to go through that. All I can do is pray, and hope that the God I am not sure exists helps her.

Thursday, July 18, 2002

Child Abuse - Thursday, July 18, 2002

I was reading the latest TIME magazine and there was an article about a little boy who had been beaten while in the child protective services care in Florida. It had a lot of political crap about how this was affecting Jeb Bush and his re-election hopes. But the important issue was reforming the social services in Florida so that children don't slip through the cracks as they had on previous occasions.

They were supposed to be monitoring him due to child abuse allegations, but they didn't. His case worker was scheduled to be checking on him, but on the days that she did go, he was never there, and on days she *supposedly went*, she lied and fibbed on the paperwork. Well, on a day she had supposedly went, and *saw* that he was happy and smiling, a man who was watching him beat him to death (just because the little boy infant had soiled himself) and then wrapped up his body and threw him in a ditch.

There was reported abuse before, but because this social worker never saw the boy, it was all unsubstantiated. If she had only done her job, that beautiful little boy would still be alive. It makes me sick how adults fail children this way.

I held my sons a little longer last night.