I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE IT!!
I try every single day to work hard, provide for the kids, be able to support a normal lifestyle... I don't overspend, I watch my money, I try to plan activities that are fun but don't cost a lot...I have pride that I've been able to create a financial plan that just might work, that I could be debt-free one day soon, that I live within my means... I SAVE, SAVE, SAVE!!!...because even if all I was left with was debt, my husband also taught me how to make money... It's been a challenging last couple of months, with a big portion of my salary from other work not coming in because the company is not doing well in this crisis.. In other words, I've been dipping into savings...and I've been worrying about tuition.... but at the back of my mind, I knew I had some emergency money tucked away...
Problem now is, that extra money, in US dollars, hidden in a secret drawer, literally tucked away.... WAS STOLEN!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jesus Effin Christ, can't a girl get a break here??????? Hello? Is anyone up there listening to me????????
Gee, thanks for leaving behind a thousand dollars, how kind of you to leave some money behind... tuition has just disappeared into thin air, just like my labandera who never came home from her day off...
Sure, we're not talking about a lot of money here, but to me, someone who hasn't been a single mother for a year yet, that was extra important rightnow. I don't give a shit how poor anyone is, this is the savings I have worked hard to preserve, to give me room to breathe every month, always knowing that I had something tucked away (literally) for emergencies.
I've vented already, now all I can think is, when, when, WHEN will things start to get better for me? Because dammit, the punches just haven't stopped coming and I'm tired of it all.
Hate the thought that I may have to ask for help, which is something I REALLY REALLY wanted to avoid. Still have to renew my dollar health insurance, which is especially impt because of Margaret's recent cancer diagnosis. Forget any grand vacations this summer. I realize other people have bigger problems, but I need to vent before I can accept the fact that I've been forced to take two steps back.
!%*^%#J&*!$^&@*#$!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
*poof*
My new favorite word!
Poof... like the people/friends/"family" who suddenly disappeared from my life when my husband died. Where have you all gone?
Poof... like promises of help that were made and never acted on.
Poof... like the honoring of my husband's birthday and upcoming death anniversary by others.
Poof... like the hopes I had that I could secure my kids' future...
Poof... like the sense of health within my own family -- cancer (again)!
Poof... like the feeling of calm most people enjoy before sleep at night which I've had to say adieu to.
Poof... like the respect I used to have for certain people who have, in the last year, proven that they are useless, self-absorbed human beings.
Poof... like the people/friends/"family" who suddenly disappeared from my life when my husband died. Where have you all gone?
Poof... like promises of help that were made and never acted on.
Poof... like the honoring of my husband's birthday and upcoming death anniversary by others.
Poof... like the hopes I had that I could secure my kids' future...
Poof... like the sense of health within my own family -- cancer (again)!
Poof... like the feeling of calm most people enjoy before sleep at night which I've had to say adieu to.
Poof... like the respect I used to have for certain people who have, in the last year, proven that they are useless, self-absorbed human beings.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Happy Birthday
So many people are remembering you today... We're all going out to eat later after Mass with Lolo, Lola and The Arnies. I hope you don't mind but I think we'll stick some birthday ribbons on the crypt.
You know what I want for your birthday, ok?
You know what I want for your birthday, ok?
Friday, February 20, 2009
Healthy Options
Poor Enzo is sick with a cough and high fever, but when I called 'Dra. Cula' for advice, instead of prescribing anything new she made me buy zinc and a mask... for myself.
"You need to protect yourself; you know how bad it is when you get hawa from the kids."
Zinc alone is not something you can get at Mercury, so I went with Max to the new Healthy Options at Greenbelt 5 to look for chelated zinc. And when I walked into the newly-opened store -- all brightly lit in green and white, bigger store area and better stocked!-- I felt a wow, then an almost uncontrollable urge to buy out the store.
I had to keep my blinders on, but after I found my bottle of zinc, we peeked at the freezer section (organic chicken nuggets at php450! aray.) and found some frozen berries and vegetables that were a really good deal.
When your child goes home smiling because you bought him raisins and frozen all-natural raspberries for his fruit shakes, you know you've raised a kid who will probably make good food choices as an adult.
Guess there is a bit of brainwashing on my part, but I wasn't faking as I browsed through the store and exclaimed over all yummy healthy stuff available. I promised to go back for some organic mac and cheese though, lol. And maybe some fruit leather.
I wish I had a lot of money, if only to be able to eat the way I want without worrying about price...
"You need to protect yourself; you know how bad it is when you get hawa from the kids."
Zinc alone is not something you can get at Mercury, so I went with Max to the new Healthy Options at Greenbelt 5 to look for chelated zinc. And when I walked into the newly-opened store -- all brightly lit in green and white, bigger store area and better stocked!-- I felt a wow, then an almost uncontrollable urge to buy out the store.
I had to keep my blinders on, but after I found my bottle of zinc, we peeked at the freezer section (organic chicken nuggets at php450! aray.) and found some frozen berries and vegetables that were a really good deal.
When your child goes home smiling because you bought him raisins and frozen all-natural raspberries for his fruit shakes, you know you've raised a kid who will probably make good food choices as an adult.
Guess there is a bit of brainwashing on my part, but I wasn't faking as I browsed through the store and exclaimed over all yummy healthy stuff available. I promised to go back for some organic mac and cheese though, lol. And maybe some fruit leather.
I wish I had a lot of money, if only to be able to eat the way I want without worrying about price...
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Hacker Attack!
I hate(!!) hackers, especially the ones who wreak havoc just to annoy and disrupt the lives of other people. Hey, if you're sleuthing about because you think your spouse is cheating, by all means, hack! But private accounts of strangers with no information in it to benefit you? Some people really need to get off their flat a**es and live a real life. They will get their karmic comeuppance one day...
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Real Love
Sickness and Health
by Catherine Newman, author of Waiting For Birdy
"Is that your husband?" The ER nurse is pointing to you, the fever-spiked lump who is snoring softly and muttering beside me. We've been here for hours, and for hours I've returned my lips over and over to your scalding forehead, as if to cool it, or, perhaps, to comfort myself. In just a little while longer, we'll find out that what you have is a severe case of strep, and you will swallow the prescribed pills, and I will finally put my lips to your quietly sleeping forehead and feel a welcome coolness.
But for now the nurse's face is creased with compassion and weariness — she is waiting — and it's not really the right time to tell her about your gentle strength: the way you rocked our baby in the sling for hours on end while you graded papers, rocked another baby three years later while you did your anatomy homework, babies peacefully asleep across your broad chest for what feels like my entire adult life. It's not the right time to explain what a funny contradiction you are, a hockey-playing massage therapist, or how just last week you lay your hands on a friend's father while he lay dying in hospice.
She wouldn't understand how funny it is that you gave me bedtime coupons — promising to turn in early on the nights I redeem them — because you're a night owl and I miss you in bed, or how it feels when I come down in the morning to a toasty kitchen because you've already lit a fire in our wood stove. She doesn't know that I'm strangely euphoric, sitting here thinking about how lucky I am to have so much to lose — my rock, my mystery, the love of my life — that I'm sitting here thinking in sickness and in health. I will, I think. I do. But all I can say is yes. "Yes. That's my husband."
Happy Valentine's Day, people. M.
by Catherine Newman, author of Waiting For Birdy
"Is that your husband?" The ER nurse is pointing to you, the fever-spiked lump who is snoring softly and muttering beside me. We've been here for hours, and for hours I've returned my lips over and over to your scalding forehead, as if to cool it, or, perhaps, to comfort myself. In just a little while longer, we'll find out that what you have is a severe case of strep, and you will swallow the prescribed pills, and I will finally put my lips to your quietly sleeping forehead and feel a welcome coolness.
But for now the nurse's face is creased with compassion and weariness — she is waiting — and it's not really the right time to tell her about your gentle strength: the way you rocked our baby in the sling for hours on end while you graded papers, rocked another baby three years later while you did your anatomy homework, babies peacefully asleep across your broad chest for what feels like my entire adult life. It's not the right time to explain what a funny contradiction you are, a hockey-playing massage therapist, or how just last week you lay your hands on a friend's father while he lay dying in hospice.
She wouldn't understand how funny it is that you gave me bedtime coupons — promising to turn in early on the nights I redeem them — because you're a night owl and I miss you in bed, or how it feels when I come down in the morning to a toasty kitchen because you've already lit a fire in our wood stove. She doesn't know that I'm strangely euphoric, sitting here thinking about how lucky I am to have so much to lose — my rock, my mystery, the love of my life — that I'm sitting here thinking in sickness and in health. I will, I think. I do. But all I can say is yes. "Yes. That's my husband."
Happy Valentine's Day, people. M.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Slumdog Millionaire
I was sure I'd be disappointed when I watched this movie, given all the hype and hoopla. So many times it's the movies that are quietly promoted that surprise me, not the touted blockbusters. I also had a yucky feeling it would be a pinoy-style movie, an implausible tale of rags to riches tied up with a ribbon at the end.
What surprised me more than anything was that the storyline was multi-layered and I was mentally engaged for the entire film, despite subtitles, thick accents and stereotypical characters, but most of all despite the peanut gallery composed of Dad (who paused the movie every time someone asked a question out loud), Mom (ano ba!!), Auntie Mo (who actually tried to answer Mom's questions), and Anton and Enzo.
Typically, Max fell asleep during the movie and Uncle Harry just munched on TJ chocolate-covered espresso beans. Other than me, I think Uncle Harry was the only one who got the nuances of the movie because he just listened and let the story unfold in its own way and speed.
And speaking of millionaires, the super lotto is up to 170 million. Time to place some bets. If I win, I promise to be true to my FB list of 25 Random Things—I will probably blow half of my winnings on gifts and travel. I daydream about traveling the world with my boys, then showering everyone with surprise gifts. There a couple of people I would like to give fantabulous gifts to, just because. I'd definitely share the wealth with staff who've been with me and Cyril through it all...
There are so many people in my life to be thankful for. They know they have my appreciation, but there's nothing like paying off a debt of gratitude with a grand splurge.
What surprised me more than anything was that the storyline was multi-layered and I was mentally engaged for the entire film, despite subtitles, thick accents and stereotypical characters, but most of all despite the peanut gallery composed of Dad (who paused the movie every time someone asked a question out loud), Mom (ano ba!!), Auntie Mo (who actually tried to answer Mom's questions), and Anton and Enzo.
Typically, Max fell asleep during the movie and Uncle Harry just munched on TJ chocolate-covered espresso beans. Other than me, I think Uncle Harry was the only one who got the nuances of the movie because he just listened and let the story unfold in its own way and speed.
And speaking of millionaires, the super lotto is up to 170 million. Time to place some bets. If I win, I promise to be true to my FB list of 25 Random Things—I will probably blow half of my winnings on gifts and travel. I daydream about traveling the world with my boys, then showering everyone with surprise gifts. There a couple of people I would like to give fantabulous gifts to, just because. I'd definitely share the wealth with staff who've been with me and Cyril through it all...
There are so many people in my life to be thankful for. They know they have my appreciation, but there's nothing like paying off a debt of gratitude with a grand splurge.
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