Monday, June 27, 2005

Movement

I had a friend in Junior High.
Name is unimportant.
She hung herself.
With a purple and pink striped jump rope with pink handles.
She left a simple note:

"I always hated jump ropes"

I think I was disturbed even then.
The note moved me more than her death.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Sexless Sunday .. . woe is me

So, the working out every day doesn't bite anymore.
In fact, I look forward to it.
Love it, even.
Plus there's all the delicious eye candy.
Gerard Butler look alike.
Guy from (I kid you not) stupid VH1 wanna be a stripper boy. He's actually hot. Too bad. Darla told me he was cut from the show last week. She actually watches that stuff.
Very attractive older man. Odd older man phase. Not like geriatric older, just old enough that you KNOW they know what they're doing and WONT bog you down in stupid relationship conversations such as "Where are we going" and "Am I the only one".
Not in the eye candy category now. New Category.
My hero.
This chick rocks.
My age or slightly above.
Very attractive.
Drives a very nice vehicle so you know she's doing well for herself.
TONED. TONED. TONED.
In other words, not bulky.
She's very trim and toned.
Yet, she benches 125, squats 100 and single max dead lifts 250.
She's so my hero.
I tend to bulk up. Hormones and genetic makeup. I tone slightly but bulk.
I'm told it's sexy . . . but prefer just tone.

So totally off topic.
Ladies, let me tell you about my best friend.
Seasonale.
The little pink pill.
Miracle drug.
First hormone birth control that doesn't make me crazy, sad or in pain.
Also, you only have a period 4 times a year.
Yeppers.
4 times.
Woo hoo.
Unfortunately, when one of those four times comes . . you want to cry. Not in pain because it's just so unexpected (even though it's clearly marked by little white pills in the pack). You didn't want this. You didn't ask for this. You're not even sure you want kids. Why do you have to go through this? Men don't regularly bleed from pertinent orafices, yet they can still have kids. Is all this necessary? Woe is me.
Though, for whatever reason (I'm told this differs in some women), I have this burst of energy. I want to work out today. Today. My day off. The Sabbath of workouts. And yet, I'm driven to go to the gym. Or even ignore the gym and pull out my elliptical machine and work out here. Or my free weights. Or my tension cords. Or whatever. Woe is me that this drive for action can't be used for other matters.
Woe is me.

Friday, June 17, 2005

THIS BITES . . . but in a good way?

Oh holy fuck.

So, I've spent the last 5 days going to the gym every night.
First time since the car accidents.
To be honest, these have probably been my first REAL workouts in 7 years.
I got to college and got lazy.
Yeah, I went to the gym, but mostly to walk on the track and stare at the eye candy.

But all that has changed.
I have spent at least 1 hr in the gym every night.
Most nights (3 of the 5) it was 2 hours.

The schedule is as follows:

First week
Mon - biceps, triceps, chest, back
Tues - cardio only
Wed - quads, hamstrings, calves, abs
Thurs - cardio only
Fri - biceps, triceps, chest, back
Sat - cardio only
Sun free day

The next week, you pick up where you left off. So Mon, I will be on quads, hamstrings, calves and abs again.

This is WONDERFUL in that I feel better than I have in years, I have more energy, I feel like I'm really accomplishing something and I've already lost a decent amount of weight. Yes, I know probably half of it was water weight, but some of it was definitely fat.

Here's the problem:

I CANT HARDLY MOVE.
My muscles are SO SORE that I can't even squat onto the damn toilet.
I HURT. HURT. HURT. I was in two severe car accidents in the last six months. A broken hip, a mangled ankle, bruises that would make boxers blush. And yet even those two massive impacts didn't hurt as much as working out does days later.

It's a good pain. It tells me I actually DID something in the gym and that my muscle is actually rebuilding itself. Becoming less atrophied from the months of wheelchair, crutches, cane and hobbling. But sweet Jesus, can I please pee in peace?? My abs ache so badly that I cry when I laugh.

This gets easier, right?
It's been so long since I've actually worked out to this extent that I can't remember.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Everyone Else's Doing It

Anticipation
Is Better
Than the Reality
Of You

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

It's About Time

Oh Dear God . . .

I can't believe it finally happened. They finally got caught in something they can't possibly buy their way out of, can they???

For followers of the blog; you will remember back in December I was having some trouble leaving my job. It required one month's notice (per contract) but if I stayed, I was in jeopardy of losing my license because of the MANY MANY MANY bad and illegal things which were going on there. In the end, I just left. Well, this daycare has FINALLY screwed up so desperately that it HAS to be shut down FINALLY.

6:20 A.M.
Bepopping down the road, flipping amongst radio stations, attempting to find either a rocking song or something to make me laugh. For WHATEVER reason (AKA fate) I stopped on the local Power 92.3 radio station, widely known for nothing but Rap and their Black Power commentary. Don't ask why I stopped, I still don't know. About 30 seconds into their news reporting about the Pine Bluff ban of smoking in public restaurants, I hear the name of the company I used to be contracted with to provide speech therapy services for the children. What the hell are they doing in the news? And then I hear the rest:

A child died yesterday afternoon when the driver of the Childcare Center of Arkansas's van failed to drop him off at his house. The driver forgot the child was in the van and proceeded home after his route. Parents reported the child missing at 8:20 P.M. The child was found dead in the van parked at the driver's private residence.

There are SO many things to question here:

First of all, the van route begins at 3 P.M. and ends no later than 4 P.M. What kind of neglectful, ignorant parents do not realize their child, their 3-year old no less, is missing for almost 5 hours??

Second of all, what kind of MORON doesn't do a walk through of the van after the route to check and make sure all children and all belongings are off the van??

Further reports throughout the day have noted that he is being charged with manslaughter because the child is ABLE TO BE SEEN FROM THE DRIVER'S SEAT OF THE VEHICLE. And he didn't see him???? He didn't see the kid??? WHAT????

Now, I know that SEVERAL of the therapists who have left have REPEATEDLY reported this daycare to DHS for violations of codes, illegal actions, etc. Yet, DHS has done NOTHING. I was actually there when DHS would visit. There would be GLARING discrepencies from codes, yet not even a warning was issued. And what's even scarier is that they ALWAYS knew when DHS was making their surprise visits. They would come over the intercom and say "All teachers, be advised that DHS will be making a surprise visit at 11 this morning. Make sure you are in ratio and your room is in order. If you have too many children come to the front and we will find people to put in your classroom with you." And then the teachers would LEAVE their classrooms (always good to leave 2, 3 and 4 yr olds unattended) and come to the office to say "Man, I got sefemteen (17) kids up in my room. How many I supposed to be having?"

Now, whenever I or other therapists would notice these things and say something to the director she would say "I will take care of that. I had no idea such things were happening," and yet nothing would change. Well, except that her 2 daughters and 6 other relatives that worked there would say things like "uppity white bitches" loudly when they were around us.

I even found out, right before I left, that they were supposedly stealing from the company. Though not technically stealing I don't guess. Just writing things off that weren't being used for the daycare. An older black woman that worked there, and hated the whole family and what they did, told the therapists that they would order "good food" for the kids for breakfast and lunch and snacks (even though half the time they weren't given breakfast and lunch was beans and white bread with graham crackers for snack, if they got a snack) and then when the truck came to deliver it, they would take the food off and put it in the office like they were going to put it in the building. The minute the truck driver left, they would load the boxes of sausage biscuits, hamburger meat, donuts, chocolate chip cookies, whole hams, chicken strips, etc. into their personal vehicles and take them home.

Now, I KNOW they are making money hand over fist. HAND OVER FIST. Because we had 3 speech therapists and 3 occupational therapists on staff, all working 40 hours a week. All of our children were Medicaid kids. Medicaid pays $76 per hour per therapy per child. So, rough estimate 6 times 40 = 240 times 76 = eighteen thousand two hundred and forty dollars per week for THERAPY ALONE. They were also getting paid for the daycare services by vouchers and parents pay. 75 kids times 50 dollars per week (thats the mean, some were less some were more depending on age) = 3750 per week. They paid their 4 teachers minimum wage only and paid the therapist a mean of $35 per hour . . . so hmmm . . 4 times 40 times 5.15 = 824 dollars per week for workers and 8400 dollars per week for therapists. The were clearing at least 12766 dollars per week. They didn't put ANYTHING back into that daycare. They had NO soap, no paper towels, I told you what they fed them. I know for a fact that the gas bill was 6 months overdue (in December when I was there) and the electricity bill was 3 months overdue. So where was that 50,000 dollars a month going??? Well, split amongst the family members for one. And then a good deal to pay off DHS, I bet.

But they can't buy their way out of a murder conviction. Oh please please please let them get convicted. Let their license get revoked. Let these kids PLEASE go somewhere safe and nice. PLEASE.

Monday, June 06, 2005

The Things That Make Me Laugh

1 - My brother. He's crazy beyond all reason. I love him dearly. Things that would never be funny to anyone else are hilarious to me just because he's my brother. Not to mention he's sometimes very naive about things. And that alone is funny.

The best story ever:

My brother moved into my guest room when he moved here to go to college. The first week he was here, we were in the living room watching mindless TV. The following is an actual conversation.

In the background is a TV playing a commercial regarding dust mites.

Brother: "Dust mites are real?!?!?!?!?"

Myself: "Umm, yeah." (dumbfounded look on face, tone implying - are you an idiot)

Silence for approximately 5 minutes.

Brother: "So, does that mean dust bunnies are real too?"

Sister (deadpan): "Yep. They eat the dust mites."

2- My father.

It's readily evident that my brother is the very same person as my father. They even look alike. Daddy can crack me up without even trying. And what's funny, is at times, you think "Is this guy an idiot?" and then you remember he has 3 college degrees including an engineering degree. He's viciously intelligent, but like all too intelligent people does stupid things.

True Story:

Mom and dad have been married for a very short while when he purchases a brand new 1976 F-150. Coincidently, the truck is brown.

Dad goes on a hunting trip with a few of my uncles (few because I have 14 on his side alone). His gun develops some problem so my uncle loans him a rifle that he is unfamiliar with. Somehow, my father manages to shoot, yes, SHOOT his truck. It causes no damage save for a hole in the front quarter panel. He thinks my mother won't notice the hole if he shoves some mud in it, considering the truck is brown - and muddy - it will either blend in completely or will simply look like a lump of mud caught on the quarter panel.

He drives up to the house with the mud clump in the hole. Mom's no slouch. Immediately she says "What did you do to your truck?" And dad quickly fires back with "It's a little dirty." To which she replies "The hole, (insert dad's name), I'm talking about the hole." My father simply shook his head and told his tale. He knew the gig was up.

This is the same man who will make up an answer to any question FAMILY members ask him. He doesn't so much do this with friends and strangers I've noticed. But if you ask him say . . . why the sky is blue, he will make up some answer that sounds completely plausible. And anyone who didn't know him would just take him at face value. But we don't buy it. And I have been known to say "Dad, you don't know. You just made that shit up." To his credit, he never lies, he simply says "Yeah, I did." Don't ask him why he did, he never has a good answer. Sometimes, more often than not, he has no answer at all.

My friend Robin -

She's smart as all hell, gorgeous to boot and can make anything laugh-out-loud funny. Without even trying. At times, it's just the fact that I'm relatively certain the girl suffers from Terretts. She will just randomly say fuck six times in a sentence.

To be quite honest, at times I wonder if I don't suffer a little jealousy. She's just such a great person. You KNOW if you need anything - she's there for you. Even leaving her bed at the crack of dawn to rush to your side when you've been in an accident. Even though this required her to miss the first several hours of like her third day on a new job. This is funny because she has this attitude - that she doesn't give a damn about the world or anyone in it. She throws everything and everyone off externally - but inside, she's a softy. It's funny how many people DON'T get her at all. Even friends we've had for years have no inkling of who she is.

She's beautiful, even with no makeup and no bathing. She showed up at the hospital, hair in a haphazard ponytail, no makeup, no bath, no jewelry, random pieces of workout clothes thrown into an outfit and still looked better than most women could look trying. And what's funny about this is she has NO IDEA. She thinks she's attractive, sure, because deep down we all do. But she has NO idea that she's gorgeous.

The girl is cracked out when on drugs. And I don't mean illegal ones, she doesn't do that. This is the ONLY person I've ever seen, literally, who talked to her ass when on Benedryl. Oh yes, fans, she was on her back, arms through her legs, ankles by her head, talking to her ass. Real live conversation:

"Hello today, ass. You've been rather smelly lately. Are there some foods you prefer I don't eat? . . . "

She will, of course, kill me for putting that here. . . and deny the story.

She also performs "Wheels on the Bus" with her breasts acting as wheels.

My mother -

Sarcasm takes a human form in my mother. She is the most sardonic, caustic, laugh out loud hilarious woman I've ever met. And the kicker is that she NEVER offends anyone by it. Everyone thinks it's funny. Most of the world takes sarcasm as an offensive form of humor, but not when it comes from my mother:

Senior year of highschool; Trip to Baylor University to determine if I wanted to accept the scholarship

Random tour director: "And now here at Baylor we have a payment plan. So instead of paying off an entire semester at once, it's like paying off your washer/dryer."

It should be noted that Baylor is VERY expensive. VERY.

Mother, kind of quietly, but much louder at the end: "Or your MERCEDES BENZ."

Later in the tour,

Random tour director: "All five of the University President's children attend college here. Most live in the dormitories."

Mother: "FIVE????!!!??? I thought this was a Baptist college, not a Catholic one??"

Love that woman. Love her.
She had the entire tour laughing their asses off. Which is a feat for Southern Baptists. (so glad I didn't attend a religious based college)

That's enough for now . . there are more. But those are probably the four highest on the list.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

OCD abounds

So, I figured out today that I'm way too OCD.

I always knew I was obsessive compulsive, but until this very minute I didn't realize the extent.

My checkbook always has to balance to an even number. And not even like 1124.50. No, no, no. That would drive me nuts. It would have to be an even 1125.00 or 1100.00. Either I am going to the bank to deposit 50 cents or I'm going to write myself a check for 24.50 and cash it at the bank (because the damn ATM only lets you take out even numbers too! and in denominations of 10). I actually wrote a random check to my credit card the other day for 72.11 just to make my account equal 2100.00 even. I just paid that credit card last week!

I have very pretty, clean-lined glass drinkware for nice occassions, but the everyday stuff is a collection of colorful cups. These cups are stored in stacks of three in my cabinet. Each stack of three has to be three separate colors. And similar colors can not be on top of one another: ex. Coral, red, blue would not work. Since coral and red are separate colors I MIGHT (if there are no other options) put them in the same stack, but NOT on top of one another. The stack would have to be coral, blue, then red. But I prefer not even to have to do that. I prefer to put coral in between a blue and yellow. Coral and red are too similar, from the same color family.

I can only write with black ink. And only ink that flows rather nicely. I actually prefer marker pens, extra fine tip. If I lose my black pen and there are only blue pens to replace it (in a business day), I will write pertinent information on a scrap of paper and then recreate the entire therapy note (or what not) that evening when I have a black pen. To prevent this from occurring too often, I carry around boxes of 12 black marker pens. I have one box in my briefcase, one in my vehicle, a set of five in my purse, etc.

I have a set of files - work files - that I have to drag around with me all day, because they contain all my clients' information and their daily therapy notes. These files must ALWAYS be in order. I can't just finish with a client and throw the file in amongst the rest. It must be in order. And all files are organized first by color (Green for one daycare, red for another daycare, yellow for another) then alphabetized by child's last name . .. but in addition to this, they must be in size order . . . hard to explain but you know how file folders have tabs . . the tab is either all the way to the left, all the way to the right, or dead center . . . well this is how my filing goes:

Green for daycare #1. All names alphabetized . . . all folders arranged with left tab, right tab, middle tab, then again. Left tab, right tab, middle tab. If I lose a client (leaves the daycare, medicaid number no longer works, etc) . . .let's say I lose a Right tabbed green client, I have to redo all following files . . because they have to be in order. I just pull out new folders and relabel them to get back to the left, right, middle groove.

Luckily I only have about 7 kids per each daycare . . . so seven green, seven red, seven yellow. If I lose a green kid - that just means I have to replace 7 folders. And not even seven if that kid was #5 in the arrangement. Then I just replace three. Numbers 5-7.

I have my cds in two separate cases. One case (which holds 500 cds) is arranged alphabetically by artist . . and ALL cds I have by that artist are right there together. The other case is for cds that stand alone. Artists I either didn't care enough about to buy another cd, or artists who have only had one release.

If I see someone in black shoes and a brown belt, it bothers me all day long. I can't even wear black shoes, black belt and carry a purse that has some brown in it. It drives me insane.

I have a very specific morning schedule. Wake up, turn off alarm, go to bathroom, remove nightclothes (if there were any worn to bed) while using the bathroom, get into shower, bathe, get out, brush teeth, dry hair, put on makeup, hang towel up, get dressed, spray on perfume, gather dirty nightclothes (or clothes from day before which were next to bed), deposit clothes into washing machine, get large bottle of water from the fridge, take vitamins, go back to bedroom, unplug both cell phones from chargers (work and personal), gather bottled water and phones, go to garage, get in SUV and leave. If this schedule is violated, my entire day is thrown off. My head literally hurts.

My DVDs are organized, too. Series such as Sex and the City, Lord of the Rings, Gilmore Girls, etc are organized in order and on separate shelves. So are comics. Such as, my three Chris Rock DVDs and two Eddie Izzards are all together and organized by release date. Other DVDs are organized by categories such as comedies, classics, war films, cult films, etc. The categorization of the latter is rather new . . but I like it a LOT.

What's scary is I'm NOT OCD about things I should be. I ALWAYS have to scramble to get things together for an appointment with my accountant. And most times, I can't find what I need, so I access my company and personal checking accounts via the internet and print off statements of every month from the first of the year and highlight the pertinent information - such as business expenses, payment for contractual services, etc. I'm so totally and completely organized about some things . . and then SO lackidazical about others.

Does anyone else do this???

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Apologies, Kind Of

Okay, so I just read over that last post.

I apologize for the extreme use of profanity.
And for some of the ways I expressed my ideas.
A little logorrhea going on there.
But the ideas and beliefs were sound and honest.
I just could have been a little more . . . umm . . tactful in my expression of them.

Holy Hell

Jesus Christ ametly . . I just found out I'm a libertarian.

Makes some sense.
I think the government butts into my damn life way too much - particularly since I have my own corporation and taxes are EATING ME ALIVE both privately and business wise.
I think the government should stop supporting losers and let them get their own damn job. No one's too good for Burger King. The King will support your ass for $5.25 an hour . . . in other words, more than the fucking NOTHING you're making sitting on your ass.
I think Social Security has far outlived it's usefulness and that I'm paying Social Security to support my parents . . . because not dick of it will be left when I get there. Not to mention, if you're in your 20's, the way the damn economy is now, you would make FAR more putting your money in a CD or even a damn savings account than investing it in IRA's and 401 K's and Social fucking Security. I have a SEP and I have consistently lost money this year - I realize it's a pendulum and it will swing back up, but damnit . . I can't help but think if I had put all that money in my LOW yield savings account I would still have ALL the money I saved plus a TINY bit extra.

I think income tax is a joke. It's ridiculous that I work my ass off to pay 1/3 or in my case close to 1/2 to the government. If I wanted to work to support other people, I would give birth.

I think drugs should be legalized and taxed the hell out of. If you're stupid enough to buy the things that kill you (hell, I contribute, I buy lots of alcohol) then support the government while you're doing it . . plus killing some of you people off would be culling the herd. I'm all about drug legalization.

Abortion should always be legal. ALWAYS. PERIOD. If you don't have a vagina - you can't say a damn thing about it, because you don't understand. You also can't say anything if you haven't been pregnant. I met someone, rather recently, who was VERY VERY VERY adamant about being anti-abortion. Guess who had one last week -- oh yes, same girl. Turns out being pregnant and actually having a baby is a lot scarier than she thought. Particularly when her boyfriend was screwing her best friend.

Wow, libertarian, whoda thunk it. Here I was thinking I was a Republican with some very liberal leanings.

Everything

I'm so beyond happy today!!

Why, you ask??

I HAVE NO IDEA.
I shouldn't be.
I'm BRRRROOOOOKKKE.
Monday was Memorial day, so I had a non-paid day off.
Tuesday I discovered that several of my kids (aka, livlihood) have gone awol because their 14 year old mothers are out of school for the summer and their 27 yr old grandmother's refuse to pay for daycare during the summer when their momma's could watch them for free.
Not to mention the three that are on hold (aka 9 hours of work per week) because their medicaid numbers have expired because their mothers (between the ages of 14 and 20) are too lazy to maintain their information for their FREE healthcare.
So, I worked 7 hrs Tues, 8 hrs yesterday, 6 hours today . . . and have NO hours for Fri and couldn't have worked any more hours Tues - Thurs.
Woo hoo 21 hr pay week. Note the sarcasm.

Perhaps my happiness is due to the snazzy, rocky, makes you want to jump all over the car on your commute Killers CD that I have been rocking for over 6 months now.

Maybe it's due to the gorgeous sunny weather that is outside my very window.

Possibly it's a result of my reading not ONE but TWO good, borderline very good, books in the past day and a half (because it has been so VERY long since I found a new author that I enjoyed).

It could be that my bestest friend in the world since I was 18 is coming over for dinner (insert Birdie or Robin's name into the bestest friend slot).

It could be that I made so wonderfully tasty make you wanna slap your momma food that it may be gone before Birdie can get off work and to my house - 9 p.m. is LATE for food when you've been up since 5:45.

Or maybe it's because I FINALLY have my checkbook completely and utterly balanced. No unaccounted for debits or credits. COMPLETELY on the level.

It's just a good, great, fantabulous day.

Oh - with one down spot. Delewarean - I've been trying to leave "opinions" on your blog for some time now . . . and it WON'T let me . . . . HELP! Give me some way to communicate with you. Your blog is beyond hi-fucking-larious.

Now, for some social lubricant. . . . hmm . . . tequila or rum. Jose it is. That man has always treated me right.