Sunday, June 29, 2014

It's Time for a Review...

****This is a sponsored review, I did receive a full size sample of the product along with coupons to try more, I was compensated by the products but have not been monetarily compensated to write this blog, nor did the compensation alter my opinion in any way.  The opinions are strictly my own and are in no way a reflection of the site my blog is hosted by, or the site that provided the sample Smiley36.com*****

Snuggle Scent Boosters

Snuggle Scent Boosters are my new best friends.  They are the most amazing little bundles of joy that I am desperately in love with.  Offering full disclosure, I've only used the lavender joy variety of them, so I'm not sure if I'd love the other ones quite as much, but these babies are the best thing since fabric softener sheets. 



I'm not big on liquid fabric softener mainly because it always seems to leave a spot of greasy residue on my clothes somewhere, so for the most part, I really do use sheets or none at all.  Sometimes, I go all easy greeny and put some acv (apple cider vinegar) in my little dispenser.  But for the most part, I just use sheets.  Doesn't do much for scenting the laundry really, so I always had stale smelling towels within a day and clothes too.  I don't like the way closet clothes smell!  So I usually use a ton of "febreeze" that I make homemade on them to make my clothes smell less like that.

No more with these little gems.  You just throw one in the bottom before you put your clothes in, the package says two, but I never have done that because I'm cheap and don't want to waste them.  What I did discover is that I can make one of my home made "febreeze" concoctions with them.  Here is what I do:

1 packet of snuggle scent booster cut open in a large bowl with a spout to pour
two tablespoons baking soda
one tablespoon rubbing alcohol
warm water to fill the bottles you are using (makes two full bottles)\

Mix the top three ingredients together with enough warm water to dissolve everything. Slowly add water to it to make sure there is no gritty stuff at the bottom.  Pour into two spray bottles and top off with the rest of your warm water.  Mix up to make sure everything has been dissolved.  Use just as you would regular "febreeze" but test a small area first to make sure it doesn't discolor your fabrics, I haven't tried this on all kinds of fabric.
Enjoy the lovely scent of fresh laundry around your home!!!
And don't forget to toss those little babies in each and every load guys...everyone deserves towels that smell that awesome!

Once again, this is a sponsored blog!

****This is a sponsored review, I did receive a full size sample of the product along with coupons to try more, I was compensated by the products but have not been monetarily compensated to write this blog, nor did the compensation alter my opinion in any way.  The opinions are strictly my own and are in no way a reflection of the site my blog is hosted by, or the site that provided the sample Smiley36.com*****


Until next time folks....
J

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Eavesdropping and a MAJOR Confession...

The confession will be something some of you already know, so don't get too excited yet, but it is pretty major for me to tell the people that don't.  I'll get to that in a bit.  First, the eavesdropping part of the title.

I have a fondness for doing it myself, and I'm aware it's really rude.  I know that when I do it, the things that I hear about myself, I can't take too hard because the people saying them are not meaning for me to hear and that is why they are saying them to someone else and not to me.  Sometimes, I still take it pretty hard, but I try really hard not to.  That being said, we have a little issue with it here at Casa de Crazy.  Here, we have an over zealous eavesdropper that will listen to any and all conversation being had and will get vindictive and angry at people for having private conversations never meant for their ears.  I bet you can guess who I am talking about.  You would be right.  My mommy.  Goddess love her, she just can't help herself I guess.



It's pretty bad when you can't talk to anyone about anything at all without having to worry about what will be overheard right?  But it's just the way it is.  People ask me what's wrong with her that she does some of these things, and I have to answer honestly with this.  Nothing.  Not a damn thing.  She has no mental or medical condition that makes her act like a child, or do the things she does.  In fact, for the bulk of my memory she has been a very self centered person who just did whatever she wanted and thought about the consequences later on.  It made for a rough growing up, especially after she married someone that really was crazy.  

So back to the eavesdropping part, k?  Let me tell you some of the weirdness.  The  tv in her room stays at it's lowest volume so she can hear what goes on in the upstairs.  She stands in the shadows in the hallway downstairs and listens to my husband and I talk in our bedroom ALL THE TIME, and will even creep halfway up the stairs to listen to us if she thinks she can get back down them quick enough to not get caught.  The way the vents are set up in our house there is an intake vent in the downstairs hallway that she can stand by and hear damn near everything upstairs, and it's located right next to the bathroom, so she can sit in there with the door cracked and listen away.  And she does.  Daily.  All. Day. Long. Every. Single. Day. Of. My. Fucking. Life.  Every little thing she hears, if it's about her or not, she is sure it's about her and she gets herself all butthurt about it and acts like someone just slapped her in the face.  If you hear something bad about yourself while eavesdropping on someone's private conversation, it's your own damn fault as far as I'm concerned.  You shouldn't get all upset and go to your room and cry when you hear people say they are irritated with you for doing exactly what you're doing rght then.  Also, it's fucking creepy to not be able to have any damn privacy at all.  If we did have any semblance of a sex life she'd listen to that too, and well, gross.  It's a tiny little part of why I never really worked here to begin with.  I've only tried to work here a few times even though she does indeed know what my job is and spends money like we're millionaires.  She also listens to phone conversations.  Why you'd want to listen to your 20 year old granddaughter have phone sex I have no idea, but again, fucking creepy.  I have no idea how to handle it except to come here and complain because everyone here is so fed up with it, we have given up trying to be quiet about what we say.



On a side note, we did find the kittens.  Or rather, they just got old enough to come out of the hiding spot their mom had them in and start exploring the house.  They are all just fine, but I'm damn near certain my mom had known all along right where they were and has actually been giving them cow's milk which is horrible for them.  So, we're back to just not buying milk again, or buying it in small, single serve containers for the little boys and keeping it up here in the mini fridge.

Now on to the confession part of the blog.  Many years ago I was in a car accident.  I was driving a 1986 Mercury Lynx station wagon.  At a stop light one day while I was on my lunch break from work, an elderly couple slammed into the back of my car in their mini van.  They had been shopping at the Eastgate Mall in Cincinnati Ohio, and the man thought the light turned green when it had not yet.  I found all this out later, because at the time, they took off, it was a "hit and run" accident.  There was no obvious damage to my car, but it moved my stopped vehicle almost 12 full feet forward while I was at a dead stop and I had my food on the brake.  When they slammed into the back of my car, I slammed my mouth onto the steering wheel and also whiplashed my neck.  That was actually the beginning of my bone spurs there, but from what I've been told, I would have developed them anyway, just later on and probably to a lesser degree.  

I went back to work not realizing I was hurt and finished out my day.  I had a desk job at the time and since my best friend worked with me, she was able to just look at me and tell something was off, so we ended up going to the ER after work and discovered two things.  The first one was that I'd hurt my neck pretty bad, and the second was that the man that was driving the vehicle that hit me and took off had been injured as well and had gone to the same hospital.  Not only was he not telling the doctor there the truth about who was driving (he was telling them he was the passenger), he was telling them it was the other driver's fault.  This was in the days before traffic cams, but there were skid marks that were later measured by the police and the width of my tires was thinner than theirs so they really could tell that THEY hit ME, not the other way around.

Anyway, to move on with the story, I was at the time in quite a bit of pain due to the neck injury and in fact, it to this day causes me a great deal of pain because it never healed right and it grew the bone spurs on it and the discs between the vertebrae are essentially nonexistent but they are in several other places of my spine as well so I'm told I would've had an issue there regardless.  On to the confession part though, when I was hit, I basically bit the steering wheel.  I cracked all of my front teeth, upper and lower under the gum line, and since I already needed some (a lot) of dental work, it got bad pretty quick.  I did have dental insurance, but I maxed out my benefits in just a few visits and not much was done to fix my teeth.  In a short amount of time, I started to look like a crack head.  I got treated like one too.  Most people assumed that my teeth were like that because of drugs.  They weren't, but people didn't care to ask, they just assumed and so that's how it was.

When I moved back, my friends and family were shocked to see what condition my mouth was in (I think they were surprised that I hadn't gotten fat living in the midwest also, but I hadn't).  It was several years before I was able to start having any work done, and by that point, they all needed to be pulled.  I've never been able to have root canal's anyway, they've always come out, the bars that they put in the hold the roots together reject.  So that was not an option, the only option was to pull them all and have full upper and lower dentures made.  That is my confession.  I have no teeth.  I haven't had any for almost 13 years now.  When I had my set made, they were made cheaply (even though I didn't pay for them out of pocket, the cheapest set possible is what I've got because the state paid for them due to me being on state medical for disabled people, which I've been on for almost the entire time I've been back in California).  I have never learned to eat with them in.  I've never learned to wear them consistently.  In fact, I only wear them when I'm going to go out or when people I don't know very well are going to see me.  Of course I wear them to work, because they fill in my face and who wants to fantasize about someone toothless, right?   Why am I telling you all this now?  Because the state took away dental care for many years and I was not able to have them relined or fixed or looked at or have the aveoloplasty I was originally supposed to have done to make them fit right.  The state just reinstated their dental program in a limited fashion, and decided that people on Medi-Cal are now allowed to go to the dentist!  Yay for us poor folks!  I've always felt like dental coverage shouldn't have to be a luxury for people, but sadly, in our country it is.  Some third world countries take better care of their people's mouths than we do here.

So I got to make an appointment to have my teeth fixed and the appointment was for this morning.  I was led to believe that they were going to do a simple hard reline and they'd just fix the pink part to make them fit right.  I got myself all excited, thinking this was it, I'd learn to eat with them, and start wearing them all the time and that the bone loss I'm suffering would stop and all that happens when you have dentures and hardly ever wear them wouldn't keep happening to me.  As it so often happens, I was wrong.  I got to my appointment and waited forever.  Keep in mind, I'd been told if I got there by a certain time, I'd get them back relined by this evening.  I got there by the right time, but while I was in the waiting area, I watched the courier that picks up the appliances come and go and I'm thinking well shit, there goes my chance to get my teeth back today!   I get called back, and the first thing they do is tell me I need x-rays.  WHY the fuck does someone with no teeth need an x-ray?  I'm pretty sure it's just to get more money, because wtf are they going to see except my damn jawbone?  So they tell me I need them but I have to take all the piercings out of my face and ears.  So that's 8 earrings, one of which is pretty new and still healing and shouldn't be taken out at all.  An eyebrow ring, a nose ring, and my lip ring which is also not quite healed up yet.  That alone took me another 10 minutes or so to get them all out and in the baggie and I had to apologize because, honestly, if I'd known I'd have taken most of them out or put retainers or bioplastics in.  Then the dentist comes in, looks at me for all of 30 seconds, asks me how old my plates are and tells me that they're just going to apply to get me new teeth anyway because not only are mine really too old to risk a reline, the bottoms are cut too short on the acrylic to reline anyway!  That's going to take another probably six months before I get good teeth.  I'll have to go through all the gagging impressions and the wax molds and all that shit, that's something like 6 to 8 visits over 6 or 8 weeks.  I'm pretty disappointed about it really.  I thought I'd have teeth I could eat with by my birthday.  Now I'm nervous to go through it all again and all the adjustments again.  The impressions are the hardest part for me because they DO gag me really bad and I've gotten made fun of by dental assistants for it before, I'm worried I will again.  I know I should be grateful I get them at all, and I truly am, I'm just disappointed it'll take so long.  But this time, I hope that they'll fit really well and I'll learn how to wear them the 18 hours a day most people with dentures wear theirs.

So that is my confession.  I hope that the few people that didn't already know about this that will after they read this won't be grossed out by me now.  I hope that it doesn't make them think less of me, but really, if they didn't already, I don't see how this would.  But this explains a great deal why some medical professionals treat me so shitty huh?  See me without my teeth in and at this age?  They think I'm a meth addict or a crack addict or something.  Then they see I'm a pain management patient on my chart and it makes it 1,000 times worse.  When I feel like shit, the last thing I want to do is put my teeth in, because they hurt to wear and I already hurt or I wouldn't be there.  And with all of that, I'm going to close for today because, well, it's a long blog and I'm tired now LOL.  Look forward to some product review posts coming up soon because I've got several lined up and I was blessed to try out some really cool stuff.  Thanks for reading me through, I know this was a long one!

Until next time...
J


Wednesday, June 11, 2014

What's in a Post? "Still I Rise"...




















Still I Rise


You may write me down in history 

With your bitter, twisted lies, 
You may tread me in the very dirt 
But still, like dust, I'll rise. 

Does my sassiness upset you? 
Why are you beset with gloom? 
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells 
Pumping in my living room. 

Just like moons and like suns, 
With the certainty of tides, 
Just like hopes springing high, 
Still I'll rise. 

Did you want to see me broken? 
Bowed head and lowered eyes? 
Shoulders falling down like teardrops. 
Weakened by my soulful cries. 

Does my haughtiness offend you? 
Don't you take it awful hard 
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines 
Diggin' in my own back yard. 

You may shoot me with your words, 
You may cut me with your eyes, 
You may kill me with your hatefulness, 
But still, like air, I'll rise. 

Does my sexiness upset you? 
Does it come as a surprise 
That I dance like I've got diamonds 
At the meeting of my thighs? 

Out of the huts of history's shame 
I rise 
Up from a past that's rooted in pain 
I rise 
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, 
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. 
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear 
I rise 
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear 
I rise 
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, 
I am the dream and the hope of the slave. 
I rise 
I rise 
I rise.

Maya Angelou



This has some meaning to me today. After my keeping up with the joneses post, and the post just before it, I guess the few people that did talk to me are no longer. I'm guessing, they think those posts were directed at them, and where they could have asked if I meant them (it was aimed at no one specifically really, just a whole set of circumstances) now I'm just not worth talking to at all.  Or communicating in any fashion at all, be it personal or social media (which is usually what I get anyway, and that is just fine with me).


This is my life. And people wonder why I don't even bother to try to make more friends when these are the kind I've already got right? I'm not even worth picking up a phone and typing a message to anymore. It's no wonder I'm lonely.  Is it because of the choices I make? The information I choose to share here? I'm not sure. I know people read here, I average some 500 to 1,000 readers a month so I know SOMEONE out there is reading these. Maybe those of you that do read and actually know me could take a few minutes to let me know that you haven't forgotten I exist. I'm sorry I'm a needy paranoid person. You kind of get stuck with an all or none deal with me.  Im flawed, I'm broken, and I still need my friends, even if by some misunderstood reason, you perceived an offense I did not mean. You had nothing to do but to ask...


Until next time...
J

Monday, June 9, 2014

The Ku & The Jones's

There's this app that writes haiku esque type poetry.  I write there a fair amount when I'm feeling poetic.  I'm actually a decent poet, I've had a couple of things published in compilation book, but I never make a big deal out of it because, well, in my life, when you tell people that they either ask you to prove it right then and there (which is ok, I can, but it's rude and makes me feel like everyone just assumes I lie about things like that) or they have to one up me and tell me something that they've done that's even more cool or wow worthy and I'm not all about that shit.  

http://kuapp.me/h/318747

The whole world isn't about playing "keeping up with the joneses".  If you don't know the term, it's a game people play where they have to make sure that if you have something, they have it one step better.  Or one step worse depending on the situation.  Funny how an app that I write random poetry on led me here huh?  It seems like everyone I know is like that.  About literally everything.  Good and bad.  If I have something good happen, someone I know has to have something ten times better.  If I am sick, then someone I know has to be 100 times more sick and knocking on death's door.  Just to prove that they have it better or worse.  Why do people do this to each other?  I've not known EVERYONE in the world to be this way, just a certain set of people that are now just about the only people I have to deal with on the reg.  From the people I live with to the few people I don't live with and just have contact with regularly.  I don't get the game.  I'm the poorest person I know.  But I haven't always been.  There's been times in my life that I had a little extra to share and I did with the people I've asked for help from.  Most of them don't have a penny to spare for me, while doing home redecorations and going antiquing on the weekends.  But when I was the one that had a little more, I helped them out no problem.  Sometimes to the dtrement of my family, unfortunately.  So this just confuses me to no end.  What makes people feel the need to compete with me over anything at all?  I am not a competionworthy kind of human being and the coolest things I've done in my life are my kids.  In this breeder society, a fuckton of people have done that and  hell of a lot of them are better at it than me.  So maybe, people could go keep up with those Jones's instead of me.  If i'm not making sense to you, it's ok, I;m just venting again because people are weird and I'm really feeling sad that so many people would feel like making me feel even worse about my fucked up life would be fun for them.  HOW could that possibly make anyone feel better knowing how already fucked up my life is.  But I guess if that's what floats your boat, more power to ya, can't make my life any worse.

http://kuapp.me/h/302410

On that I'm going to go get some henna ready because it's about that time for my daughter and I, I'm going to leave you with a few of my Ku poems, and...

http://kuapp.me/h/207045

Until next time....

Monday, June 2, 2014

The Case of the Missing Kittens and Other Random Things...

First, I'm a beggar, and I'm going to ask everyone two things.  First, please go like the Facebook page for my blog here, chances are good you haven't because I've only got 25 likes on there so far.  You can find that here: Facebook Page.  Also, what would everyone think if I did one of those indiegogo or kickstarter or another one of those donation deals to help me get a car or the one I already have fixed?  Obviously, I wouldn't EXPECT people to donate, because lets face it, most people have hard financial times, but I NEED A CAR REALLY BAD and I'm running out of time and options.  My health is declining and my children and I could really use transportation for me to get to doctors appointments and Memphis needs his teeth fixed before it affects his permanent teeth and I can't accomplish this without transportation.  So comment, email, whatever.  I might just set one up and see if anyone is willing to help me out because, frankly, I don't know how else I'm ever going to get my car fixed or get a new one.

Ok, so the title.  I'm going to explain that right off the bat (or cat, haha, I'm so punny).  As my constant readers know, we have a lot of pets.  Too many.  I know this, but I have a serious lack of transportation and I can never manage to get a reliable ride to go places and I'm just not comfortable asking someone I don't know all that well to cart me and my animals all over the valley to get my shit done.   So I guess until I get my own vehicle I'm gonna have to be a little more careful about keeping the underwear on the female animals.

So my mom's cat had a litter of kittens.  She's a weird cat, she's Jynx's sister.  I thought this cat was a boy for a couple months because I didn't really check out the tidbits and that's what the person we'd gotten them from told me.  We discovered that she was indeed a she and she went from being not so nice to being much nicer, so I think she was upset we were calling her a boy.  Yes, I know that's not likely to have been the case, but let me have my little fantasies, will  ya?  So she's a she and she went in heat and wouldn't you know it, my mom's OTHER cat who is not fixed wither (of course) got her pregnant.  I don't even know when she got pregnant, but doing the math it had to have been around St Patrick's day.  She had the babies under the foot of my mom's bed and my mom said she didn't even know the cat had had them.  I think she was full of shit, but who am I to say.  When she showed up one morning skinny, I figured it out pretty damn fast and I'm on drugs and not all there, and my mom says she had "no idea"? Okay...yeah.  Moving on, once my mom discovered where they were, she wouldn't leave them alone.  At all.  So the cat tried at first to move them upstairs with us, but my mom caught her and wouldn't let her, so she moved them somewhere else in her room.  She swears up and down she has no idea where they are and says she thinks they're dead in there.  We can't find them.  My husband has looked, my sons have looked, my daughter has looked, even I took a flashlight and looked.  In the mounds and mounds of clothes and CRAP my mom has shoved in her room, we can't find them anywhere in there.  I'm almost 100% sure they're not dead because the cat has obvious evidence of feeding them, and disappears for hours on end, but no one can seem to find the missing kittens.  They'll be old enough to be running around the house in another week or two so my mom won't be able to hide them any more after that.  And I think Jynx might be pregnant now too.  Yay me.

Now I'm going to move on to the bitchfest section of my blog.  I always have one right?  Because I have no real life people to talk to that are local that I can bitch to all the time and I need to get it out somewhere, this is where I turn.  Evidently I amuse a few folks with my ramblings because some of you keep coming back to read my tails of woe, so thank you for that.  And thank you for allowing me to HAVE somewhere to go to get the shit out!

Here at Casa De Crazy, there is a food issue.  We consistently run out of it.  I'm feeding a zillion fucking people here it feels like.  I had to "borrow" money again this month to feed people because there is a little food goblin that makes things mysteriously disappear ALL THE TIME.  It's like the toilet paper.  I think she may eat that too.  It doesn't matter what we buy, it's gone so fast I can't keep up.  We had to get a mini fridge a while back (thanks to the same person that keeps feeding me, he keeps filling the fridge up too!) to keep some of the perishables upstairs because we just can't leave them downstairs for my mom to have access to.  If we leave anything dairy downstairs, she feeds it to the cats.  My beloved Spazzy cat died due to this.  She was more lactose intolerant than most cats, and believe me when I say most cats ARE lactose intolerant, and my mother refused to stop giving her milk and half &half and cream.  It killed her.  I'm really glad I already had Jynx and that Jynx doesn't like my mom all that much or losing my Spazzy would've broken my heart a little more than it did.  Anyway, it's pretty much anything though.  We can't keep the little boys lunchables down there, or they disappear, she can eat a whole jar of peanut butter in a couple days.  She's eaten almost an entire 10 pound bag of potatoes in less than a week.  No she isn't as big as a house, but there's a reason for this.  She has a stoma.  A colostomy bag.  So she has an incomplete digestive tract.  She eats so much and so often, nothing digests and to put it unpleasantly, it all just gets moved through whole without her absorbing any of the calories or shall I say many of the calories.  But she does steadily gain weight until she does stupid shit like take all her meds really fast and go into withdrawal and get sick for a week and not eat and then she'll drop a chunk of weight and it'll start the cycle again.  I love my mom, but she is driving my family apart.  My marriage has gotten a million times worse.  My kids constantly fight with not only each other, but with me.  And I am everyone's "safe zone".  I'm the one they come to when they are angry and need someone to yell at.  So if anyone needs to vent, they come and pick a fight with me, knowing that I'm not going to retaliate and hold a grudge.

I'm wound up so tight it's scary.  I can feel myself coming apart at the seams and I'm not sure what to do or how to handle it at all.  To go along with that, I just have no idea what to do about the money situation or the car situation or the house situation or pretty much any situation at all.  I'm tired of people that don't consider how their actions make other people feel.  I'm tired of living in a world where people flaunt what they have and make fun of people who don't have as much.  I'm tired of family that says they'll help you and then every time you ask them to they more often then not don't.  I'm tired of being treated like I'm stupid because I'm broke.  I'm tired of people that have a little more than I do not remembering the days that I was the one with a little more and how much I helped them when they needed it.  I'm tired of not being able to fucking GO ANYWHERE AT ALL without having to beg someone to take me there, and then most of the time they cancel on me.  I'm tired.  I'm sick.  And I feel like no one cares.  I have one friend.  And that one friend is so far away from me that it's like being on another planet sometimes.  And I feel like the friendship is far from equal because I'm constantly needing something.  Needing money to feed my kids, needing to vent about something, needing him to pay a bill for me so a utility doesn't get shut off, needing SOMETHING and I take and I take and I take, and I don't have anything to give.  You know why?  Because in my day to day life, everyone around me takes and takes and takes from me and doesn't give me anything back.  Or what little they do give back doesn't begin to fill the void they've left in me from all the taking.  I guess that's a great way to explain it, I am one big void.  I'm like a black hole.  Anything anyone gives into me and my family won't come back because it gets sucked into oblivion.  It's the most awful kind of void.  And it is my life.  I don't know how to crawl out of this void or creep out of this black hole.  So the black hole has become my black whole.  I has become who I am, but I hope it's not who I will always be.

Until next time...
J