Weeds don't stand a chance

Yesterday I was told that my crazy ex with a bruised ego that Mr. Superior Then Everyone Without A Degree who is probably definitely going to jail for his attack on me may have given me tuberculosis (breathable disease.) So all day from morning to night I was throughly worried that I had a disease that while curable is very dangerous to those with asthma. 

There is no guarantee that treatment will work, treatment is long and sometimes nauseous if not straight out painful, antibiotics and asthma is not a good combination and it’s the only way to cure tuberculosis and finding the right cocktail of antibiotics is performed the same way as it’s done for HIV – “gee let’s see what happens when we mix the blue pills with the red pills with the yellow pills after breakfast but only after you take the pills that are striped or.... is that the other way around?” 

However.... I did receive notice last night that NO I do not have it - thank freaking gawd and every entity in the universe. 


Today I did finally meet with the owner (employer) of a company I thought was blowing me off. She was busy and with a cold and so on.... or so I hope because i accepted her job offer. The last thing I want to do is go job looking again. plus the job is full time with benefits in 2 1/2 months. 


Transitional Housing


I am up for a transitional housing but it's not the one I was hoping I would get. In fact it seems like I'm being given the least favorable one even though I've been the one resident who has worked her ass off to find a job and better myself. I hate to say it but it seems as if because I am not Hispanic I am not being offered a space in the new transitional housing program where residents have their own room and kitchen sharing abilities. 


Instead I'm being offered a bed in a big room with other female residents with a cubby hole space thing to put my clothes and stuff in... right....   The last two residents both went to the same brand new shelter in a very nice area, with all kinds of resources and both were Hispanic and both are not edible to work because they are both illegally in the US. How is this fair?  


I'm going to have to rent a storage unit nearby just to keep anything of value to me and take my laptop with me whenever I leave. :(


Digging my frustrations


Got back from the community garden where I volunteer for an hour each week. The hour using a hand hoe and hand shovel (or whatever they’re called) to dig up weeds and loosen up the dirt really helped to get my mind on the last two days of stress. The green onions have really grown and are ready for the kitchen. The radishes have another week before they can be pulled and today for my part I planted Mustard Greens in the area where I got my stress out. The weeds didn’t stand a chance.


Today I took home some Chocolate Mint leaves for tea tonight.

On The Upswing

The needle looks like it’s moving towards the drama red section again. Two residents moved out but the very young woman with three kids won’t be leaving until tomorrow. Generally she’s pretty nice as a person but on average way too laissez-faire about parenting / watching her two youngest “rambunctious” kids. I’m honestly surprised one or both hasn't been rushed to the ER yet for a head injury or even a broken bone. They genuinely run amok and literally all over the house. They are kids and they will do what they do until they truly understand it’s not ok…and if they’re not told it’s not ok they’ll keep doing it until they’re rushed to the ER and figure out that what they did was painful.

On a only slightly different note…

I understand I'm sharing the same space with the kids but I feel that does not grant me or place on me some minimal amount of child responsibility simple because my physical preference is there. Yes I will and do say something when I see them just about to do something that can and probably will lead to an ER visit; such as trying to skateboard down the metal slide. Or climbing up the side of the house while his brother tries to add and remove rocks from his pockets… yea… that's when I will say something. But if your child is rocking back on forth on a chair the end result can only have two outcomes. Eventual boredom or falling back and knocking his head on the wall behind him. Guess which one happened?

I was distracted on my computer in my continued pursue of never being in this situation again. If he was my child, yes of course I would have paid better attention to him, but he’s not.

“Please don’t expect me to watch him simply because I’m at the same table as him. Also, if he’s up and around and climbing the counter for some fruit and you’re still sleeping, please don’t get mad at me for getting it for him. If he’s hungry in the morning and you’re not around I will provide him something healthy to eat until you wake up and fix him breakfast.”

She leaves tomorrow for a transitional housing. One I would really like to have. I cannot help but be jealous and mildly annoyed. She has no intention of getting a job and can’t get a job because she is here illegally and so far has shown no intention to become legal but is receiving CalWorks. I spend almost every single day self-studying and looking for a job. She’s a very nice person but I cannot help but think it’s unfair that she is receiving resources that she may never pay back or contribute to the system that supplies her food and money. Yet I’m selling the last of my valuable possessions simply so I can buy a bus pass to continue to go to job interviews.

General Relief – You don’t get your actual appointment with a Grow Worker for a minimum of 3 weeks which means you can’t get bus transportation assistance until week 3 and that is only AFTER you attend Orientation which can take up to 2 weeks to schedule…OH and your worker can decide not to give you bus tokens until you start attending the Grow Job Club which on average takes up to two months to get into. SO 13 weeks just to receive assistance to get a job while you the recipient receive a whole whopping $160 to $220 a month. Ok… feeling jaded, must stop that.

To end this on a happier note…

I have two major job interviews next week. Both of which are not just bring your resume and look and sound professional. I have to print an application for one, my resume, references ect… on nice paper and place inside a nice professional folder and get to the interview and back = $$

Oh wait where’s the happy? I have two interviews with two very good companies. One is only seasonal but there is always a chance of permanent position being offered. For the other one I hard core professionally sold myself and have a pretty good chance at. I'm meeting with the partners some time this week. So the happy is that I’m employable with good skills.

Vampiric 4 Square

I never was good at 4 Square.

Subject D was forced to leave by police escort. Subject (Special) K freaked out at 3 am and said that Subject D was about to burn the house down if we all didn’t die of gas poisoning first. I was asleep so I don't know what happened. But since there had been previous complaints she was escorted to a facility more equipment to manage her needs.

That same day Special K threw away ALL of the leftover food (only a day or two old at most) in both the refrigerator and freezer as well a huge basket of vegetables. Her undeniable explanation was that the refrigerator was filthy therefore everything that wasn't sealed in a commercially purchased container and date with a well defining 'Still Good' date was disgusting and no good. Almost half the food supply is now gone.

I think this chick is bi-polar. I’ve known a couple of bipolar and high anxiety types and she exhibits similar traits.

I had to go through items I purchased and circle the words “Refrigerate After Opening,” because she has placed perishable items in cabinets instead of leaving them in the refrigerator. She is very much like me ex. Finds something to complain about every single day and there is always more then one thing that isn’t done or isn’t done the “right” (her) way.

She watches daytime talk shows all day, her opinion is the only one that makes sense and she dates only cholos…am I spelling that right? A Cholo?

Urban Dictionary:

1) cholo
...typically dresses in chinos (khahki pants), a wifebeater ...


2. cholo
buy cholo mugs, tshirts and magnets
1) Mexican Gangster 


2) Mexican Gangster Style
1) "My homeboy got shot up but some cholos from Norte...


3) ...This look is subject to change as gang-culture evolves. 


buy cholo mugs, tshirts and magnets


And I thought I dated fucked up men / rejects.


 But I’ve figured out a secret about her. If no one is in the room with her… if you don’t pay attention to her she turns off her vampireic energy feeding.


But all of that doesn’t matter. I’m back to square one. Transitional housing programs are full and in two to three weeks I will yet again be at the “you're not an (addict, single mom, XXX), you don’t qualify” stage. Because this is my second cycle there are even less choices. In addition, they do know about the last shelter and yet I’m still here. They could have rightfully asked me to leave at any time. But regardless, there is no place to go. If I don’t find a job soon I’ll be right back to Skid Row, homeless shelters or asking my ex if I can return. He would love to gloat over me and tell me how much of a failure my “little independence stunt” really was. In other words, I have no place to go, again.

Mint Chip or Mint Chocolate Cookie

Two decisions by any other name is still a choice.

SOCAL covers Orange County to Los Angeles County to Ventura County. Where I’m located is pretty nice but also pretty small. One of the big stress factors for me has been medical care and employment. Medical is now taken care of but employment is uncertain…as it is for thousands of others.

Last night I lost my temper and said exactly what I felt and that may have been a mistake - maybe not.

The stress of the uncertain is weighing on me. Do I go to a shelter in the heart of Los Angeles or do I stay in the general area of where I am? Both areas have their plus and minus features. Where one is quite lovely the other is not. Where one area is ugly it potentially offers more job opening possibilities where the other does not. One is much slower than the other. But the fast pace of the other offers a diversity of possibilities in all areas of life including education. The slower is more relaxed, lived in and comfortable while the other is “be aware and don’t travel down alleyways” cautious.

My personality - hobbies, interests, things that make me smile, keep me interested, make me feel alive... they're all things that rarely exist in just one person. I temporarily feel comfortable in both worlds of sleepy town and fast city life. So how do you choose when you feel so different from everyone else? When you know in a few years you'll be be bored again. I think that is where part of my problem lies. I need to fill all of the interest beakers, balance them on a solid foundation, be true to myself and provide the financial necessaries of being physically me.


Where will I get a job? I don’t know and I don’t know what to do. In the end it is a choice. Two choices where one is no better than the other because it is only a choice. Once you have made it, it’s yours to do with what you can or willing to do with it. I just do not know what I want to do and that in and of its self is stressful.

Honoring the victims?

How best can we / should we honor the victims of 9/11?

Ground Zero Mosque Opponents Have a Lot of Work to Do - Bob Cesca


"Let's begin with the actual ground. The Ground Zero. Literally, the ground. The One World Trade Center (aka. Freedom Tower) website notes the following feature:


The below-grade concourses will include approximately 55,000 square feet of retail space and connect to an extensive transportation and retail network..."



In my opinion I find that using the very space where people died for retail shopping to be offensive. Yes, the towers will need and want retail outlets. Must it be in the ground known as Ground Zero? Why not a library, a cafeteria, a museum...Hell, I would even be ok with a 24 Hour Fitness gym. But shopping for personal luxury seems so damn wrong.

I read the article at The Huffington Post and couldn't help myself from posting a sarcastic comment that some will probably and maybe even should find offensive. Here is the comment I wrote for the article. After posting it and then reading it, I really do wish I could go back to college.


Honor the heroes and victims of 9/11 by bringing in the shoppers! It can be an annual Ground Zero honoring tradition that all shoppers shop (with 50% discounts) until they drop from exhaustion every Sept. 11th. Shopping in ground zero, where so many people died... shoppers will be walking on the dead quiet literally. THAT is much more offensive then a Mosque that has nothing to do with terrorists.




You want to do the victims some justice? How about a homeless shelter for those hit by the economy? The homeless who have not been homeless before. The ones who do not have drug addictions. The ones with some skills that can be taught and are willing to learn new ones…then they can be hired for the thousands of jobs the towers will create. That is honoring the victims. 

Bad Day

Sickness & Trauma Queens SUCK!

Woke up feeling like there was a boulder sitting on my lungs.


No openings yet for transitional housing…again


Received a scammer job email asking me for all of my personal identification information


The little boy is screaming his harpy song stronger than usual today. 


Was given a list of employment agencies to contact - over half is work I can’t do or have no experience in…still sending them my resume.


Headache is slam dancing


Trauma Queen took the rest of the saltines into her room… I’m not eating much and saltine crackers have been the only thing I have been eating steadily throughout the day this week. It’s not as if there isn’t an entire kitchen or pantry full of food and beverages so you’d think the bitch could leave me the least expensive snack in the entire fucking shelter!


No drugs so I can’t knock myself out with Nightquil or sleeping aids – FUCK! That could totally qualify as an addiction!


Last night Trauma Queen insisted I feel her goose egg bump where she fell down (again) and knocked her head. Here's a tip - stop falling down for attention! I don't have to touch you to know you have Traumatic Reenactment Syndrome (TRS) - get a therapist not shelter residents to touch your multiple injuries. 


I know that may sound callous but I'm sick of hearing her whine about everything and everyone and listening over and over again to her complaints and issues. We ALL have issues here but now is the time to start the process of getting past them and starting new, not rehashing them every single day. 


Ahhhh - the harpie boy is non stop today!  I even spoke up telling the little boy loudly & very firmly NO! (and putting my finger in front of my lips) - this shocked the boy and his mother for a few moments. She finally took the little harpie outside to annoy the neighbors. 


Headache raging - going back to my room.

It’s a little like Hangman…

This morning I added an arm to the body that was added when I was showing my “smartness.” I woke up early today because today is the day I potentially get to genuinely become a statistic (General Relief Qualification / Orientation if approved appt.) Do I get a Food Bank cupcake with a little plastic Welcome toothpick?


Anyway… One of the residents left yesterday because she called her husband from the house phone and told him what city she was in. The attendee heard the call from outside the open office door and immediately started the process for her to be removed. Because she was gone her chore was left undone – dishes. One would think if there is no one else to clean up after you, you would do so yourself. Hell, I’ve never expected someone else to do my dishes and I’ve been doing my own since I got here. But that is only me. My roommate and I were in the kitchen and I mentioned the dishes. We were talking about general house stuff when I said

“I’m not their mommy and I’m not the house mom so it’s not my business.”

BBF (Best Bitching Friend) walked through the kitchen right as I was saying it – opps. Not sorry though. If this is the long Hangman version I just added an arm. If it’s the express version I've got legs and arms now.

At times she (Trauma Queen) has seemed nice and sincere but the other side is manipulative and threatening....

There’s something disturbing about a size 24 woman wearing a strapless cheetah mumu with thick white bra straps, connector and sunburns showing and dancing to her headset contained music in the kitchen and living room as entertainment for herself and the kids. It’s like seeing where the writers of the Drew Carey Show got their inspiration for Mimi but made Mimi funny instead of scary.


'Unemployment report portrays stagnant job market' - LA Times