On Wisconsin…On Wisconsin…

Ever have a miserable day? Ever feel like you just cant get a grip and you need to talk to someone who knows you and understands you, and wont judge you, and will listen no matter what you have to say? You can feel anything you need to, and can talk it out, or say nothing at all…well…just a simple thank you…you made my day so much better…made me feel better than therapy…medications…being curled up and alone…and all you did was pick up the phone and make one simple phone call. Dealt with my annoying Wisconsin Badgers Ring tone, and let me talk it out for a few minutes and I feel so much better, so thanks for your friendship, and making things easier, and what am I saying you didn’t need a thank you didn’t expect one, but you got it anyway…so deal…we don’t do the “Suzie Sunshine Shit” LOL…you get the drift…
Angie

Kiss My Claus…

Okay people here we go again…Christmas gone postal! Along with digital “claymation” and $300 gifts…we now have Palm Centro screwing with the little mojo this Grinch has for Christmas.

Everyone knows I am not the biggest on Christmas, however, these new Palm commercials are killing even me…they SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF EVEN ME…why in “Whoville they would say Palm’s small heart has shrunk to a new low this seasons holiday!”




Santa…The REAL SANTA would never sell his reindeer…this imposter is disgracing the very essence and spirit of the season.

Whether you believe in the Christian benevolence of the season…or you celebrate and don’t quite know the reason…you have to agree…Palm Centro’s “Claus” kills every GOOD Reason for this season.

Enjoy the videos…hope they don’t make you throw up on your PC, however maybe, just maybe, knowing you are not the only one who knows how ridiculous they are will tickle you with glee.

Angie.

Same Ole...Same Ole...

There is no use in trying to explain how I am feeling today. Yesterday’s blog pretty much sums that up. I wish I had some sorted agenda to rant about, some corrupt government scandal to occupy my time, but…I don’t. I am just sort of floating around in my head and wondering what the hell happened to me recently, and how am I going to fix it. I always tape this prayer to my phones, and clipboards, pens, etc,

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, The strength to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference; That I may have some Peace and happiness in this life, and sublime peace and happiness with you in eternity. Amen.”

But today, yesterday, the day before…I don’t know friends, fellow readers, bloggers united on the front of expression, I don’t know, so I pour my thoughts onto the virtual page via my virtual pen, hoping the well does not run dry. It is a crappy time of year to be feeling this discontentment with myself, with the world around me. And now science is trying to tell us that Christ was born in June, who cares. Christmas is so commercial, does it really matter any way…

Oh wow…an epiphany…lighting has just struck my brain…I told Erika that I was going to blog about those damned CLAUS commercials and I AM…I’M BACK PEOPLE I FEEL A RAMPAGE…

Two blogs in one day…oh this next blog is for you Corky!
Angie

“I Make A Difference”

You ever notice how there are some people who always seem to be flirting with danger? They cannot seem to function unless “their life is in a constant mode of crisis”? I am not one of those people.
The government was kind enough to give us something called FMLA after a father could not care for his cancer riddled daughter, however, all good graces are not indefinite.
I received my formal termination letter from my company today.
I want to make a few things very clear here…set the record very straight and clear…
I love my company. I cannot imagine working for another company, and before this debacle, I was even going to work in Texas for my company. I love the reps that work for us. I love the job. I love the work. I love the customers.
When I say I love the work, you have to understand. I love the industry. The Credit Card banking industry; I have been doing it for over five years. I can get into a credit card terminals head and fix anything wrong with it’s psyche, calm the merchant, and figure out how to make them laugh all in the same five minute call. I worked with everything from the ancient terminals to the newest and most advanced. Telco to wireless, touch screen to paperless, terminals that hold fifty transactions to terminals that hold five merchants and thousands of transactions; I Love The Job.
I enjoy my work, and I enjoy teaching it. I enjoy helping merchants. It seemed a natural fit for me to go into Quality Assurance. I get to do everything. I get to teach, learn, help, grow, encourage, develop, train, work with, guide not only the reps, but also the merchants and our leadership teams to help everyone build the best possible situation for everyone.
I have the privilege of helping the business grow. Helping my company grow. And in return…they have given me so much more.
That letter…that letter…it is so damn cold outside today, and the post box was ice cold as well. It is funny how paper feels heavier when it is so cold. Weighted, bricked into your fingertips, glued to the shaking hand that can’t break the seal, dreading the parchment inside.
We all know we have a path in life. Whether we believe it is laid out, predestined, or we make our own way, in our own time, the path, some times, the path is just so hard to get past.
Steamy breathy gasps, and the final collapse, the worn worked couch grunts under your broken spirit.
What’s left to do? Dry fingertips, winter hands, paper skin, older than my years, push the stone out of the way, open the door, shut the window, slam the flue, I already know what the fine laser ink across the heavy weight linen page says…
Per our conversation…My heart is now broken…My soul will now hurt…My dream feels shattered…I feel…
Nothing.

Angie
PS And Today The Force Lies In This Video...A

Why Have Turkey For Thanksgiving…When You Can Have Ham!!!

Introducing Davis Everyone! He is One of Teresa and Kyle Ray’s boys…and he sure is a camera ham! Hope everyone enjoys these pictures of him… I know I sure did… there is nothing like a friends adorable kids to brighten your day and give you a huge smile!
Angie

CAUTION!!! This Blog Is Considered BIOHAZARDOUS MATERIAL!!!

I am sure many of you have not had a chance to read yesterdays blog, that’s okay, I have a new rant and rave that is going to probably bore you just as much. Go Figure.

I got word today that that the wonderful people at Helpless Financial have denied my claim for my disability benefits again. Ms. X would not even give me the information when I requested it on Tuesday. Today is Friday, and I got the Information From Ms. D at my work. Or what used to be my work.

It amazes me that a person who wants to work, and can not is unable to get help, yet people who do not want to work, and know how to run around the system can get food, housing, and utility assistance. However because I spent my life working I have no idea how the hell the systems can be worked to my advantage. So I get fucked, my fiancé is fucked, and we are left wondering how to pay for our $450 a month apartment.

Curious isn’t it? Strange, that I paid into my disability fund, and now I cant use it; cannot get the money back. It is no wonder how sick and disabled people end up destitute and even end up homeless and lost.

Now where do we go? What’s next? Well we keep fighting the good fight.

And the first rule of fighting Helpless Financial; don’t talk about Fighting Helpless Financial.

Angie

WARNING!!! This Blog May Also Be Used To Treat Other Conditions As Determined By Your Doctor

It is amazing to me that society holds “Journaling” so dear to its heart. I have recently been sucked into the weekly ritual of watching Grey’s Anatomy (Those of you who are guilty of this perpetration of brain washing know who you are and have been forced to fish and play video games already heehee). Now in this show they show in season one a “journal” of video surgeries, and in season five, they show a box full of actual “journals” from before one of the characters parents lost their mind to Alzheimer’s.

It’s been shown in books and movies “The Notebook” and “Reign Of Fire”. So “Journaling” is used for everything from serious to action to comedy.

Now, as you loyal patrons of my ramblings know, Doc P is my shrink, and she says to me, “maybe we should try journaling” I looked at her and said, “What do you mean we? You mean I should try journaling right? I mean really you are not going to journal your life and share with me, you want me to write and give my daily life to you spilled out on paper, hell I might as well write an autobiography and try to sell it and make money on it then.” The looks I get from her from time to time are priceless; I wish I could tape them and post them here for you all to see.

Thus, I informed Doc P, I have been blogging, and that should suffice just fine for my Journaling for now. She agreed, and so I being the ranting and rambling of another blog…Therapeutically of course…

So…to continue my thoughts (and my Journaling heehee)… I wonder if SHE needs therapy after her visits with me. I mean after all, I did make my forth grade and seventh grade teachers cry. I mean my seventh grade teacher switched to teaching first grade after one year in seventh teaching my class (hell there was only 17 of us) I wonder if they needed therapy (maybe they just talked to the Priests, I don’t know).

Any way back to the good Doc P, I like her more and more though, however I wonder if I don’t verbally assault her a little because I am testing her, testing the water to see what she can handle.

We all test people from time to time. Even those we try not to test, our most precious loved ones, and sometimes we test them the most. E tells me that sometimes, that I test her, push her to see how far I can push. Another self defense mechanism, another way to keep people at an arms distance, never let anyone in too close, keep the masses out of my world.

And then, there was E. And then there was Max. You know, I never went near kids before, they scared me, I finally figured it out, they could see me, my vulnerabilities, see right through me.

I remember sitting with E, her telling me she wanted to introduce me to her best friend. Allyson, she is married to a nice guy (it took me months to remember their names), and they have a son about six months old named Max. My neck bristled, (I knew she spent Thursdays there, every week, they are great friends) I broke into a cold sweat, and re-enforced the “I really don’t like kids Erika” statement I had made when we had first started dating.

There was something about that kid. I have talked to my shrink about it (hence the journaling came up cause I could not put it in words) and I still can’t put my finger on it. I feel bad now; thinking back on the first time Allyson met me. She must have been terrified thinking of Erika being with someone who flat out told her when they first met that she “really, I don’t like children and they don’t like me”. Poor Allyson must have felt almost sick to her stomach. But she was cheerful and sweet, talkative and kind.

The first time I saw Max, we were all having coffee, he was in his stroller, I don’t know, I looked at him, he was cute, and I knew he saw right into me the way kids do, you know? The way they can look into your soul, we as adults lose that as we grow up. It is the thing that makes us figure out there is no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny. The thing that makes us leery of every person who walks down the street, and makes us fearful in our own homes on a stormy night. That thing that makes it so if we don’t see the world it cant see us, or our huddling under a blanket with a friend will keep us safe from the boogeyman. In all the children I have met in my life, I never felt the calm I felt when that little man looked into my eyes and saw me. Normally, it freaks me out, but not that time. And to this date he never has.

Max has never once said my name. He does not call me on the phone. When I walk in the room, he does not turn and say hello. He does not voice to me in the way adults do. However, he never forgets me. He may not be able to say my name, but when I walk into the house, he genuinely hugs me, and smiles, and laughs. An adult will be so focused on your name you will get a half smile, a limp handshake, and a how are you, and they will never get your name. But this little boy remembers.

I think the best way to tell what I am talking about is when I went to Houston for work. I was going for a year. I was very upset, I had been spending a lot of time with Max, I remember having quite a few conversations with E about my concerns about if he would remember me when I got a chance to come back and visit him. Despite her attempts to calm me about this, and tell me that he would remember me playing on the floor with him, reading to him, hugging him before bed, etc, I was still upset and agitated by the whole thing.

I went to Texas in the beginning of June. I called home every day, saw E on web cam, called when she was with Max, had her give him hugs from me, and tell him I loved him every chance she got.

The first chance I got I hopped a plane to Kentucky for a long weekend; I made sure it was for Max’s Birthday. There was no way I was missing his first birthday. I did not care if I had to walk from Texas to Kentucky; I was going to be there to see him turn 1. I was going to be there for cake, and presents, and everything in between.
While I was gone, I started not feeling well (loyal readers you know all about so we wont delve into that here and now) so I could not get on the floor and play with Max when I saw him. But I held him and hugged him, and everyone was talking, “see he remembers you, we told you he would” I was not convinced, and then, the miracles of all miracles.

I was sitting at the dinning table looking into the kitchen talking to Max’s mommy and E, he crawled right over in front of me; me sitting in that chair towering over him; him with his happy smiles and giggles, he looked right up at me, took his little hand, and patted the floor three times. He looked at me, the look in his eyes saying “why aren’t you down here where you are supposed to be playing with me?”

I don’t cry.

I want to make that very clear, (Doc P is trying to change this, my emotions are a little too in check I guess, LOL) but that, in that moment, I welled up. Not only did he remember me, he remembered how we played, and wanted me to play with him. Never was I a more proud Auntie than in that moment. And yes, I am Max’s Aunt. Maybe not by blood, but then there are some things that are stronger.

Journaling? I don’t Journal. I Blog. And yeah, Doc P can read it if she wants, and she probably will, since I told her Journaling wont work, but I will blog for hours, LOL. It suits my “addictive personality” as E and I describe it.

So there you go Doc, what I could not get into with you in session. What really chokes me up? What really makes me smile?

And now? Would Allyson worry about Max and me? Naw.

In Fact, babysat for him, I see him every week, help get him ready for bed, play with him on the floor when I can, and when his baby Sister or Brother is born…I am going to be right there…Still Blogging.

Angie