Cancer, Anxiety and Some Harassing, Stalking Neighbors

At what point in the history of this great country had it become okay for people to think that they can control their neighbors yards in order to please themselves?

As if I haven't had enough stress and anxiety with the blow of breast cancer, the loss of my left breast, the frustration of ill-filling clothes, the anxiety and never ending thought of a recurrence, my mother disowning me and telling me that my cancer was God's punishment, marriage to a widower with three young children, I now have...

Pond piranha.

Our lovely neighbor, bless her heart, who resides across the pond from us has taking a liking to harassing us.  All of this because she finds our BACK yard unsightly.

About 2 or 3 years ago, at the height of my cancer stress, some "concerned" neighbor felt the need to contact the Town and report us as having had a nuisance in front yard, about 15 feet from the road.  It was a large trunk of the remains of a deceased, very old Willow tree.  Fine.  God forbid we have a dead tree in our yard next to the pond.  We spent the day with it chained to the truck cutting it and pulling it out.

Interestingly enough, we replaced the tree with another willow tree which has since died.

Then, the following spring, we let the kids take the kayak into the pond taking turns.  Next think I know, I looked out the back window to find a police officer speaking with my husband.  Again, a nice neighbor of ours called the police to report that they were "concerned" (yes, that was the word used) about children in a boat, in the pond (a two foot deep pond) without life vests on.  Seriously?  Even the officer looked at us like it was one of the nuttiest calls he has had to respond.  Officer informed us that there wasn't anything he could do about it, as there was nothing illegal going on.

In the meantime, a portion of our pond wall grew tired and began collapsing.  Estimates my husband received ranged from anything from $10,000 - $40,000.  Money which we do not have for repairs or replacement.

My dear husband took it upon himself to salvage as much as he could of the wall and that portion of our yard by layering stones to keep the yard from washing out.

Apparently, our lovely, bless her heart, female across the pond was totally unhappy with this.  As my husband worked in knee deep sludge laying out stones, she felt the need to begin taking pictures.  Hubby took a break, we sat in our yard enjoying a beer, when the paparazzi pushed her way closer and began taking pictures of us as we sat peacefully in our yard.  When we realized she was photographing us, we smiled and waved to her.

Whoa!!  She went ballistic.  She yelled profanities at us, shot us the middle finger, and stormed off.  Apparently, what was being done did not meet her approval.  It was something she just couldn't handle looking at.  They contacted the HOA, who has no control over it.  There is no requirement to have a retaining wall.  Said HOA contacted the Town to report a "structure" violation.  This also went no where as two people from the Town felt this was not their concern so long as the wall was not a hazard and not impeding drainage.

Ok.  So, we figured, done deal.

Not.  It was reported again to the HOA, who amusingly enough, reported the neighbor by name and address in the neighborhood newsletter and that he was requesting help from the HOA with a neighbor's unsightly yard.  (um, BACK YARD).

Approximately two weeks later, said female neighbor was witnessed in the yard of a neighbor behind us, shooting her camera at us, our home, the back of our garage (which by the way she is unable to see from her home) as well as other photos.

A week after that, we receive, probably the most unprofessional letter from an attorney notifying us of the pain his client is experiencing from the sight of our yard.  My goodness, the photos enclosed were taken with a zoom lens.  Now, really, does she spend the day viewing our yard through magnified lenses?

Most amusing to me was the "complaint" about our shrubs against our screened porch.  My guess is that this annoys her and limits her ability to view our activities on our porch with her binoculars and telephoto lens.

I'm not cutting this down, nor am I trimming it.  It is in our BACK yard, against the back of our porch providing shade and privacy.

I just don't know how much of this I can take before having a nervous breakdown.  I feel that my privacy has been violated.  I no longer open my shades in the kitchen for fear that I am being watched.  I can no longer enjoy my back yard on a nice sunny day without the stress and fear that she will step out and begin screaming and yelling at me and taking pictures.  After all, if she will drive around the block and enter another neighbors yard to take pictures of things she can't even see from her yard.... how far will she take this?

More pills.

How much can a stressed out breast cancer patient take from an abusive neighbor?

BTW, here is the "unsightly" yard with the stones removed and a couple of asparagus ferns for, well, I don't know, just because I love asparagus ferns and I think they look good draping over the wall.

Ambien food festival

I thought it might be a good night, turning in early.  Took my shower, dried my hair.  Took the usual nightly meds.  I did just what the package advised.  I took my Ambien on an empty stomach.

I dont recall it stating that I was to keep an empty stomach afterwards .  So, after several trips to fridge for an early midnight snack, I managed to consume at least 3 maybe four cheese sticks,  3 or 4 pepperoni stix and two chocolate covered graham crackers.  I still have a glass of cold milk next to my bed.  I think the food cravings have subsided some.  Now I just need to settle in and patiently wait for more acid reflux to make a mark on me tonight.

Peace and Justice

Useless piece of crap gets indicted for two murders

On a night that I should be rejoicing, I find myself with anger. Anger that Lisa Pate and likely Mickey Shunick died at the hands of another. How many more?

I should be celebrating that this useless piece of crap male has been indicted for the murder of these two young women.

I'm not.

I find myself unable to wish that he burn in hell. Unable to rejoice at someone receiving a death penalty. Yet, I don't want life in prison for him.

None of these "options" seem to be right.

None of these "options" will bring back these two women or any of the thousands of women in this country who were murdered.

It would be fair, I think, to douse him with jet fuel, light him on fire, and extinguish the fire just before the useless piece of crap croaks so that he really suffers inflict on him the same amount of fear and pain he put his victims through.

To be fair would be to make him suffer the same pain and anguish he inflicted on the families and friends of his victims.

But then I would be assuming someone like that is actually human.

RIP
Lisa Pate
Charlotte Murray Pace
Gina Wilson
Pam Kinamore
Randi Merrier
Geralyn Desoto
Carrie Lynn Yoder
Trineisha Dene Colomb

FIND MICKEY NOW!

Midnight Munchies with my buddy, Ambien

Well, crap. Here I am awake at 2:00 in the morning typing like sissy fingers on the iPad. This typing screen is a crock of shit. Anyway, I've taken my usual nightly load of Ambien and one Lorazapam to get me kick started in that thing called sleep, slumber, whatever. I've noticed lately, and I call it the power of suggestion, that I'm now developing Munchies after my nightly cocktail. I have only become aware of it after another "survivor" told me she got hungry every time she popped an Ambien. Out of bed and swerving through the house like Bill Murray driving a golf cart in a foreign country with a dozen or so occupants, I come crashing into the kitchen filling up a glass of dark chocolate baking chips and a glass full of lemon-limeade. With a straw of course because I just brushed my teeth. So, I've been all caught up in the Shunick case, practically glued to the laptop, cellphone, and that glorified iPhone, also known as an iPad. I'm not invested in the case. I don't think i know her family and friends. I do suspect that I have worked for people who know her family from kids attending the same schools and a few people I know in the horse show/riding who's kids rode with her. I know where her family lives, because I know half a dozen people who either live in the same neighborhood or within walking distance. But I have a stronge interest in the case. I lived in Lafayette for all of my life. I only left from there about 4 or 5 years ago. But I was there during the Derrick Todd Lee murders. It seemed a bit chaotic, not knowing if he were black or white. Profilers generally label serial killers as white males. But DTL was not white. We weren't sure (or at the very least, I WASN'T SURE,) who or what to be aware of. I could associate myself with something of these women whom he victimized so brutally. But the one who most left a hole in my heart was Trineisha Dene Colomb. A young woman taken right from the grave of her mother who had not long passed away. This brutal beast, for a lack of better words, added insult to injury to her father, Sterling Colomb. Wounded by the lost of his wife and now only to have his daugher taken by this SOB. My heart is with Mr. Sterling tonight. May he be in peace. My hope is for closure for the Shunick family.

A Special Note to My Husband

The Breast Burka

I couldn't help but rejoice at this article, yet at the same time feel her pain.  Having gone through a mastectomy and a failed reconstruction, I know that feeling of trying to wear certain clothes.  Even a simple sports bra digs into me.  Swimsuits have been a challenge.

http://www.abcactionnews.com/dpp/news/national/female-cancer-survivor-jodi-jaecks-can-swim-topless-in-seattle-public-pool

How true it is that had she walked into the public pool as a man, no one would have questioned her.

Why should she, or anyone else in her situation, have to hide herself?

We live in a society where breasts are everywhere.  Cleavage.  Women hardly cover themselves up in public.  Even in the house of God there are young and middle age women baring as much skin as they can legally get away with.

Why on earth should this woman be required to cover up?

Worriers in Pink

Anxiety and depression seem to go hand in hand these days.  They're like two hyper active little girls holding hands running through a field of weeds.  Taking turns pulling the other down.

I had been doing pretty well lately.  At least with the anxiety.  That all fell apart yesterday afternoon after scrolling through my Facebook news feed.  Curiosity got me.  A high school friend posted well wishes on one of her friends photo.  I recognized the brace she had on and knew it had to be cancer related.  And, as usual, one click led to another and I learned that this lady had been previously diagnosed with breast cancer and that it had metastasized into her spine.

But it didn't all fall apart until a few hours later as I sat in church with my family.  All the burdens of life just rushed at me.  Sunday afternoon.  Father's Day.

I haven't seen my dad in maybe almost 20 years.  "No, not now. Not in church.  Don't start crying now after 20 years of not seeing him.  Just think, pizza.  Yeah, that's it.  Pizza, with extra cheese and lots of green olives."

And then, of course, I couldn't think of my dad without thinking of my mother who disowned me more than 2 years ago and told me that my cancer was God's punishment.  No, not anger.  Guilt, sadness, anxiety, "Thou shalt honor thy mother and thy father".  Crap.

And then the anxiety and the worry lead me to even more anxiety and worry.  Will all of this greif cause me another cancer?  Will the worry of another cancer drive me right into another?

I think of Ford's Warriors in Pink, a local foundation called Warriors 4 Warriors, and all kinds of other things about being a warrior because I've "survived" breast cancer.  I'm not a warrior.

I am a worrier.

A worrier in pink hell.

Welcome to My Garden

So, you say you've been eye-balling that cute little Lilly Pulitzer dress?  The one that mocks you every time you walk into the department store?  You know, the one that screams out, boobies!?

Oh, you haven't?  Um, me neither.

But anyway, who says you have to sacrifice the clothes you like just because you have one breast?  I didn't.  It wasn't the lack of a breast that stopped me from buying it.  Even though the temptation remains to go back and whip out the charge card, I just don't think I can do it.  Not for $188.  Add on top of that another $88 for the shrug or whatever that piece of knit fabric is called.  It's tempting.  If for nothing else but for the shock value of it.  It's just too bad I didn't come across it before the Komen Survivor's Tea last month.

If I weren't so damn lazy I'd make foobs with flowers.  Not out of a flower-printed fabric, but a foob that would work like that styrofoam base florists use in arrangements.  And I'd make some nice soft fabric flowers that could be arranged properly in the empty cup.  No, make that the empty flower pot sitting on my chest.

Pink

Pink ribbons may annoy the crap out of me, but what annoys me more are neighbors who expect yards to look like perfection. Those retired old farts with a ton of time on their hands. Free time to ride around reporting their neighbors whose yards just arent pretty. Makes me wonder how they feel about imperfect people with missing limbs and missing breasts. I hate the association of pink with breast cancer. It's a fun color. So, I think I will cheer up the cranky neighbors with a splash or two of pink. Pink lawn furniture. Pink flamingo (just one, maybe two). Heck, I may even cover the trampoline in pink. Pink garage? Hhhmmmmm. I wonder if I can paint the pond wall pink. Cancer. I really love the way it brings out the asshole in me.:p

Walmart - What a Pain in the Ass

Has anyone heard Walmart use the phrase "falling prices" lately?  Me either.

In fact, the local Walmart stores seem to be more full of shit than falling prices.  Nearly every visit has resulted in being overcharged on an item.

Last week, they had a display of Coke in their main aisle with a sign advertising it for $6.48.  Around the corner closer to the soda aisle, the same Coke was displayed as $5.98.  I checked the bar codes.

I could go on and on and on and on about their inconsistency in pricing.  It's gotten to the point that I've begun taking pictures of some of the things in my cart and the shelf price before I get to the register.  I know it's anal, but I know something wont ring up correctly.  It happened with the citronella candles, the bottle of car wash detergent, the package of ginger ale, the box of Valentine candy.

Two days ago, I purchased two packages of girls underwear.  Both the same size.  They rang up for $8.47 each.  Today I went in to return the unopened packages and purchase different ones.  I ended up buying one package in the same size as the first trip and one package of a different size.  All in all, they were the same brand, same style, etc.  Today, those packages were each $8.97.  A 50 cent increase within two days.  Okay, maybe I got them in the middle of a price change.  Prices change, I know.

Maybe, I should just give up shopping at Walmart for Lent.

Dude, seriously??

Can't blog right now. Too busy laughing.

http://www.katc.com/news/three-arrested-in-intracoastal-seafood-check-cashing-scheme/

Reaching Into the Unknown

Kid #3 "I cleaned my room and did my laundry. Can I go play outside?"

Me "Is your room perfectly clean? Did you put away your laundry properly?"

Kid #3 "mmmmmm hhhhmmmm"

Me "Ok, you may play outside."

They've been caught before playing the clean the room game... shoving their shit under the bed, the dresser, the nightstand. Shoving their clothes in the costume box, the doll box, etc.

Why should today be any different?

As kid #3 sat quietly, coloring at the dinner table, I quietly slipped up the stairs with a large plastic grocery bag in hand, ready for action.

Out from the black hole of crap (a.k.a. the space under the dresser) came a school shirt, a school sweater, a variety of socks, a new pair of funky flip flops just received for her birthday, about half a role of toilet tissue spread about (unused, thank God), two scarves, a hat, two purses, candy wrappers, a notepad, a pair of dress shoes and tons of small pieces of paper with doodles and chicken scratch. Enough to overfill the bag.

The space under the bedside table revealed a handfull of books and more crap.

Dare I venture into the closet? Tucked under a rod of clothes was a basket of cat toys. THE cat toys. Note the curiosity of the cat in the picture.

Wait, what's that smell? Citrus air freshener? One could only hope. But no. It was a decomposing orange.

Week's Past

The last two three weeks have been, well, hard to put down into words.

First, there was the Komen/Planned Parenthood fiasco.

Then, the deaths of fellow cancer bloggers.

A surprise overnight anniversary trip planned by my husband. (I don't deal well with surprise trips)

And the death of Whitney Houston.

The death of Rachel, aka, The Cancer Culture Chronicles, left me a bit numb. I never knew Rachel personally. But she left an impression.

It was Rachel who, after I emailed her about her blog, invited me into the social networking for breast cancer on Twitter.

For some, that may not be a big deal. For me, it was big. I was the kid in school who pretty much got left out of things. I was the wallflower, the last to be selected for dodge ball because I wasn't part of the "in" crowd.

Many of the women blogging about breast cancer are very knowledgable. They spend time researching and educating themselves on the issues.

I just fart around. I'm a "Dear Diary" blogger. I come here for a place to express myself, to bitch about everyday events, kids, husband, moronic drivers, assholes.

Many times, I find I have a difficult time expressing myself. This time is no different. To put it simply, I will miss Rachel.

Krap

So much time wasted trying to put down my thoughts and opinions on this weeks fiasco.

I've managed to narrow it down to a few words.

This Moment Brought to You

What my husband thinks I look like when I'm on Ambien:

How I feel when I'm on Ambien:

What's in Your Keyboard?

After eating a lunch consisting of an egg and potatoes O'Brien, I decided to catch up on reading some blogs. I had just finished typing a comment and hit the publish button on  http://mrssudz.blogspot.com/ when the internet locked up. So, instead of losing my religion and turning the plate glass window in the kitchen into a mess of shattered glass, I grabbed the vacuum and began cleaning my keyboard.

Is it obvious that I have cats?

Off The Mantle - A School Geography Bee

I'm almost at a loss for words. I know teachers are only human and that they make mistakes too. But, I think this went beyond one teacher's mistake.

My stepson participated in his school's Geography Bee last week. The contest came down between two kids, my stepson and another boy. The event apparently exceeded the time allotted for it, so the match off was held Wednesday. I did not attend but my husband did and here is what happened...


"The second to last question asked was: "What is the name of the area of the earth between the crust and the core?"

Son's answer was "mantle"
Other's answer was "lithosphere"

The initial determination was that lithosphere was wrong. My assumption is that the judges had the answers written down on a question sheet and made this initial determination. However... someone decided to intervene, and declare that the lithosphere is also a correct answer.

This was a mistake. The lithosphere is a wrong answer.

Per the National geographic website:

The lithosphere is the solid, outer part of the Earth. The Earth consists of three main layers: the core, or the inner layer; the mantle, in the middle; and the crust, which includes the continents and ocean floor. The lithosphere, which is about 100 kilometers (60 miles) deep in most places, includes the brittle upper portion of the mantle and the crust.

Because the question was asked as what is the region between the crust and the core, lithosphere can not be correct. The lithosphere is the outermost sphere of the planet. It consists of the crust and the little sliver of mantle that interfaces with the crust. Using the word "between" would exclude the region being used to define a boundary."

Son stated to his father afterwards, that he knew he was right and the other boy was wrong, and so husband decided to go check for himself. Husband also thinks that is why he missed the next question, because he was still working through his head the possibilities of the last question.

"He has resigned himself to submit to the decision of the judges... However I also feel there must be a way to remedy all of this properly, via the guidelines set forth by National Geographic."

After my husband contacted the school about this, I was a bit stunned to see the response received from the school. They told my husband that they attempted to get in touch with the National Geography Bee people but did not hear back from them. Therefore, they were going to let the decision of the judges rule.

This is a school. A Catholic school. Their job is to teach and to, hopefully, teach correctly. In my opinion, someone was basically saying that the question had two correct answers. If that were the case, then, wouldn't the judges have had both as the correct answer on their sheets of questions? And if so, would have told the boys that they were both correct as opposed to that one was wrong? Why did someone have to step in and "intervene".

It just smells too fishy for me.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

8:05 a.m.

Finally had a good nights sleep. I've been battling some kind of seasonal viral funk since last Wednesday night. Congestion, coughing, nose blowing crap.

Unfortunately, I was awake at about 4:45 this morning. After about a half hour awake in bed, I decided to fill the tub with hot water, grab my bowl of cereal and cup of coffee and have breakfast in the tub.

What else have I done so far now that it's three hours later?

I've changed clothes, pulled our clothes from the dryer and moved a kids laundry over from the washer to the dryer. Dumped our clothes on the bed (which I actually made for a change) and folded about half of the load. It's nice to have lots of underwear now that I've cleared off some of the dresser. It had become a pile-up of numerous things. Camera, binoculars, hats, scarves, dust, and lots of clean underwear that somehow got buried under it all.

Kids and hubby are off to school and work.

I fed the goose a slice of bread and after watching that special someone toss two plastic cups and a beer bottle from his vehicle into the yard, I decided I'd do some clean up in the rain. No wonder the kids just leave all their trash in the yard instead of throwing it away in a trash can. Darn good thing none of them are serial killers. Yet.

Today I will be spending about 4 hours doing volunteer work. Also known as standing around creeping out the patients.

I have also finally figured out what a good idea it would be to bookmark my own blog, making it easier for me to find. Go figure.

8:14 a.m.

Trimmed cat #1 again while she was drinking from the bathtub. Clipped a few pieces off of #2 just to piss him off for being nosey and antagonizing #1.

8:30 p.m.

Twelve hours and 16 minutes later, I feel like this morning was two days ago.

I spent my scheduled volunteer time doing a few things that were more than just standing around. Although I worked more taking the stairs from the 7th floor of the parking garage.

Now, what else did I do today? Oh yeah, after my shift, I went to the nearest Harbor Freight. I bought a small desktop magnifier and one with a light to wear on my head. Then I headed off for one of my favorite "thrift" shops. It just happened to be on the long way home. Of course I bought a bunch of crap.

Came home and found hubby on the phone with me.

Ate dinner.

Ate dessert.

Didn't get a damn thing done around the house again. Unless you count the small load of laundry from this morning, which is still scattered across the bed.

Oh, and I almost forgot... I lusted after a purple handbag.

Resolutions and Accountability

Looking back, I have to say that I have rarely made resolutions. Why bother? I doubt I would have kept any of them.

Driving around on New Year's day I saw tons of people walking. My guess is that they resolved to exercise this year. I wonder how many have stuck with it ten days later?

I did decide that I would try two things this year.

1. Change my purse every Sunday
2. Keep track of what I do on a daily basis

I think I've said it before in one of my posts that I have a bazillion purses. I'm a purse whore. Drop me in the middle of a store and I will gravitate right towards them. I'd love for a therapist to explain to me the obsession I have with purses. Maybe it goes back to childhood. When my mother would hide her purchases in the trunk of her car and wait until dad went to bed to bring them in. Uh oh. I think I just became my own therapist. Moving on...

As of yesterday, I have begun to keep track of what I have done during the day. I need to see how much time and money I'm wasting, so what better way? It can definitely be a rude awakening. I've kept a food diary before and it was disgusting to look back at the day and see all of the crap I ate. It started out as a record keeping of sorts on my sodium intake. My blood pressure had been creeping up and I didn't want to depend on medication to keep it down. The most vivid of meals I can recall was a lunch of hot dogs and chips. And I'm sure a Coke or two. By the time I tallied it up that one lunch amounted to about 1,700 calories. I don't even remember the sodium total. Probably too appalled to even have gotten that far in my records. A day's worth of calories all in one meal.

So, let's see. Sunday I changed purses for the first time in a couple of months. It's always kind of fun to change out handbags. I never completely clean them out. There's always a handful of coins, half a dozen receipts. One time I found about a dozen or more lipsticks and lip balms all in one purse. Now that I no longer wear lipstick I've noticed my lips aren't as chapped as they used to be. These days I only carry around a tube of Burt's Bees.

Tonight I will be bringing my spiral bound calendar and notebook to bed with me. Just as I did last night, I will be reviewing and writing down my activities from the day as well as looking over the "To Do" list to see what I didn't do.

Happy New Year

And a great big welcome to the creepiness of the beginning to the end of the Mayan calendar.

I try to not follow those kind of news items. Why bother? More than likely, nothing will happen. But if it does, what the hell am I gonna do about it? As if it's suppose to scare me? Seriously. I can't figure out their calendar. Nor do I want to. Daylight savings time is confusing enough.

So, 2011 in over and done with. For the most part. Come April, we will be looking back at 2011 for deductions and anything else to help reduce our taxes when our returns come due on April 15th.

If there are any resolutions that I would like to work with this year, it would be organization. We still haven't filed out 2010 tax returns. That drives me nuts. For all of my adult life, I have had my returns prepared and mailed out long before the April 15th deadline. Thankfully, we are due a refund. But that doesn't make me feel that much better about being so late.

I'd like to resolve this year to just not give a shit. That doesn't mean I'm not going to help someone who has dropped groceries or hold a door open for another. I think it means that I'm going to work on moving slower. To the beat of my own drummer, not someone else's. If I'm ready to head out the door when the others aren't and it causing some or all of us to be late, well to hell with it. I'm not going to worry about being late. I'm not going to worry if one forgets something for school or karate. And I'm not going to stress down the highway pushing the speedlimit in order to make it there on time. If we're late. Too bad.

I'd like to resolve to be more creative. To think creatively and to actual create and put those ideas to work.

I'd like to resolve to mow the lawn if i'm tired of looking at a yard that needs attention.

I'd like to resolve to find friends. Whether it be virtual friends through blogs, forums etc., or friends in real life. I need to step out of my shell and get out more. I'd really like to find some special friend in real life. That partner in crime type person who is willing to step out of her or his shell and help me with some ideas. Yeah, I think I need a gay male friend. They are usually good for those things.

I'm sure I could sit here and find a million things I need to resolve. But some take priority.

Right now, I'd like to thank those of you who follow my posts and post responses to them. Heck, I'd like to thank anyone who drops in on this and reads something.

Thank you to those who have offered me advice. Thank you to those who laughed because they found my post funny. Life is so full of sadness. I much prefer to find humor in as many things as I can... even in death and cancer. I won't let either of those take away my humor and my smartass sarcastic self.


May you all have a peaceful and blessed new year. And if not, then may you find so much humor and laughter in it that you pee in your damn pants!