Is It Asking Too Much?

I haven't had much to say as of late (if you knew me, you would forget sending flowers to the hospital - you would go ahead and send the wreath to the funeral home) and it's unfortunate that now my something to say is somewhat whiny and negative. I live in a difficult place - geographically and sometimes mentally, the mental part being a whole 'nother story. When I bought this house, I wasn't aware that I was placing myself AND my children atop "Flag Hill" , which is known for being an easy place to score drugs. People don't hang out a shingle saying "The cook is in". It took at least 6 months to find out about the meth lab down the street. Not quite so long to figure out I had also moved right into the redneck ghetto. I am so NOT exaggerating. The first year here was uncomfortable and now just having passed the 3rd anniversary of dwelling in the same neighborhood as a person who has cut people with a machete over a drug deal gone bad, another who has attempted suicide by blowing his face off over being in trouble with the law, and of course, the freaks who are just plain old sociopaths,I have more or less adopted the philosophy that no news is good news. I have endured people trying to make my life miserable because of the Van Goats, people just trying to make my life miserable because I exist, apparently. Today was more or less the last straw. While I was hanging out laundry, Chico the dog was hanging out in the street as he is bad to do, and out of the blue I heard someone slamming on brakes and yelling out the car window about having had it with "that dog". I looked around the clothes I was hanging up, at which point the mouthy bitch asked me" IS THIS YOUR DOG?". I gave affirmation that he was and she informed me that he always chases her husband on his motorcycle and her husband is going to kill my dog if he hits him. She then screeched off as I informed her that her husband drives too damn fast. Not that it matters, right? I mean, who gives a shit if some jackhole on a motorcycle drives 50 mph through a neighborhood in view of the fact that there is a jack russell/chihuahua roaming around on the loose. Where the fuck are my priorities? For some reason, after all the things that had annoyed me in the previous 10 hours, let's say, this was the thing that almost pushed me over the edge. I am so over rude people who think they have the right to ruin someone else's day. I wanted to call the police and say that she told me her husband was going to kill my dog just to try and fuck up her day. I didn't have the energy to go to all the trouble that was going to entail. I don't think that I am the only person on the planet encountering this kind of irritation. What I do think is that we should all band together and figure out a way to deal with all the people who want to suck the life out of the rest of us - the ones just trying to mind our own business and live. I mean really - IS it asking too much?

We all need Fresh Air

I've posted about the Fresh Air Fund before, but now things are really heating up for the summer. If you donate before June 30th, a group of their generous sponsors will match whatever you donate, dollar for dollar. That is HUGE! Imagine all the kids who will get to have a vacation they thought was only a dream. Having read a few books on what life is like for children in the inner cities doesn't make me an expert on this subject, but it does make me understand that some kids aren't ever going to get out - period. This time is even more critical that most of us realize. I hope that this picture on my website will speak to you and lead you to investigate more. Thank you for reading.

Bring on the brass pole.......

Wow.....I'm a bad blogger.....nothin since May 20. What's up with that? As far as June goes, I've been busy getting my ass kicked every day this week by cheer camp. What is cheer camp, you might ask. Well, it's some kind of fascist summer camp for kids to teach them how to become screaming, ribbon wearing, strippers-in-training. Okay - I'm just joking - there really wasn't that much screaming. It was pretty cool actually, especially watching my gal learn the cheers and dances and making new friends. I was stressed because I wanted badly for her to make all-stars - for her - not me. I'm not one of those crack-head parents that grounds their kid for only hitting 2 home runs instead of 3. I don't care what she does as long as she feels good about herself - and if she turns out to be a bank robber , she better hit the big ones and share with me. Just joking, again. Seriously, I want her to do something - participate in some activity whatever it is, and have a passion for something special. Life takes on a whole new meaning when you have something(s) that keeps you looking forward - as long as it's not too far forward. I've had many passions in my life (oh hell no, I'm not even close to talking about men. )Anyway, it's not like I'm a friggin philosopher or anything - I'm just extraordinarily wise due to the inordinate amount of beer I've consumed in my lifetime, which has served to lessen the inhibiting properties of my brain cells, thereby enabling them to function freely and without reserve. (Somebody in Mensa - please try to fucking top that shit.)

I don't know if cheering is her gig or not, but I know she had a great time and she also learned that she can hang in there for four days jumping,yelling, cheering and wearing ribbon with the best of them.