Category Archives: Whoa

The Lamest of Them All

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So I go to Wal-Mart to get my oil changed and buy cleaning supplies. Something told me NOT to go there, but trying to kill two birds with one stone, I went anyway. Not to mention, I had my two-year-old with me and I figured I could entertain him better in Wal-Mart versus a Jiffy Lube.

An hour later I exited feeling like I accomplished something. I stopped at the Marsh next door and went through the drive through at Arby’s for a quick bite. About a quarter of a mile down the road, cars next to me started honking wildly so I rolled my window down. “You have something leaking from your car!” everyone in the vehicle next to me yelled. I thanked them and that’s when I noticed the smoke. I pulled over and indeed it was something black leaking from under the hood.

Instantly a car pulled behind me and asked if I needed help. By that time I was on the phone with the Tire & Lube Express. The good Samaritan asked if he could pop the hood and take a look. The two gentlemen immediately ascertained that the oil plug had not been tightened. I explained this to the service manager and asked for assistance.

Livid, I spent 13 minutes on hold before I hung up and called the general manager. I demanded that he send someone to help me as I could not drive back to Wal-Mart with no oil in my car.

Another good Samaritan stopped and asked if I needed help. He sat and talked with me awhile.

The same guys from earlier who first stopped to see if I needed help came back to see if someone from Wal-Mart had made it yet.
Two men from Wal-Mart arrived ten minutes later. One had to go back to the store because he didn’t bring pliers!

I am waiting as I write this…to be continued.

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Dirty Old Man?!

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This just doesn’t feel right to me…what do you guys think?

Morgan Freeman’s divorce from his second wife of 26 years, Myrna Colley-Lee, is official. And now that he’s a single man, rumors are circulating (thanks to the trusty old, National Enquirer) that he’s getting ready to marry again…to his 27-year-old step-granddaughter, E’Dina Hines! Folks, we couldn’t make this stuff up if we tried!

Creepy

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This morning as we were exiting the house, I noticed a car rounding our small cul-de-sac.  When I pulled out of the driveway I saw that it was parked in front of my neighbor’s house on the corner.   The driver, a young black man, was using a cell phone.  I made eye contact with the stranger and noted the gleam of his gold teeth in the moonlight  as I passed by.

I thought it was strange being that it was pretty early in the morning for a random stranger to be parked on our little street.  I reached for my cell phone so that I could call my neighbor and realized that I left it on the nightstand.  Thus I reversed back and retrieved my phone and set the alarm.  I considered calling the police but decided against it.  After all, streets are public domains and being creepy is not necessarily a punishable crime.  The stranger was still parked out front and stared at me as I slowly passed him again.  I tried to get the license plate number, but it was too dark.  I think the car was a Chevy Lumina.

Maybe I am just paranoid.  He could have been lost and was calling someone to get directions.  I don’t know his reason for being there, but I do know it left me with an ominous feeling.

Now I’ve Heard It All!

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Yesterday I was dismayed to learn that a couple of guys were robbing children at gun point on bus stops for…lunch money!!!  Is that not the craziest thing you’ve ever heard?  One of the kids was even pistol whipped by the robbers!  They also demanded cell phones, Ipods, and other things of value.

Whoa!

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I finally decided to get my prescription for Ambien and filled because I am seriousy lacking sleep.  I took the pill about two hours before my bedtime so that it would be in my system.  I wanted to avoid oversleeping for work the next morning.  I thought nothing of taking it early.

I was talking to a friend on the phone and I told her I had taken a pill.  She seemed shocked that I had not passed out.  I felt fine.  I didn’t even feel sleepy.  She urged me to get in my pj’s and to get into bed because she said the medicine worked quickly.

Well, about twenty minutes later I started feeling weird.  I told Nicholas I was going to go rest and reminded him to be in the bed at 9:30pm.  I don’t remember anything else.

The next morning on our drive to school I asked Nicholas if he went to bed on time.  He sounded puzzled as he replied, “You tucked me in.  Well, you tried to but you fell on me.”  I was surprised because I didn’t remember doing that.  He said that I got up when he came to tell me goodnight.  I asked him how I got back into bed.  He said he walked me back to my room and said I fell again but he managed to get me back in the bed. 

How scary! Anything could have happened.  I’m glad I didn’t hit my head on something!  Needless to say, I didn’t take one last night!  Maybe I will try warm milk or Sleepytime tea tonight.

Left Behind

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I feel like we have been abandoned, me, Nicholas, and Jazmine that is. 

The very same day of my husband’s death from a heart attack, Eliza’s brother came knocking.  I saw him approaching the walkway and became anxious.  His arrival portended evil.   He was his usual pompus, surly self.  Luckily my aunt and cousin were home with us so I didn’t have to face him alone. 

When my aunt answered the door he demanded to speak with me.  She informed him that I was not feeling up to seeing any visitors so he asked to speak to my husband.  She told him that my husband was not available.  He then asked if he had passed–not your logical follow-up question.  My aunt acknowledged that he did in which he replied, “When he die, a month ago? Did he committ suicide?” 

I was stung by his indecency and began screaming and crying for him to leave.   He yelled that Ethan was his blood and that he carried his last name (he doesn’t).  My cousin ushered him away from the door.  I grabbed the phone and called the police.  I wanted him away from our house ASAP.

When the police arrived he stood outside attempting to manipulate them into believing that he was only there to console his nephew.  He claimed he had no idea that my husband had died.  Two big, burly guys joined his side.  The police  didn’t buy his story especially after eyeing his bouncers and wrote up a trespassing report.  They also put extra patrol in our neighborhood.  The rest of the night him and his sister called without ceasing.  She left many ridiculous messages stating that she only wanted her nephew because I was not “family.”  Wow and ouch was all I could think.  Just a stepmom…

I also received calls from Eliza’s aunt and cousin, who both said that they felt the boys rightfully belonged with me as did the rest of their family.  I asked why the aunt and uncle were behaving like vultures.  Her cousin replied that they probably wanted the money that the boys would draw from his death.  This thought never occurred to me.  The aunt also felt that they were probably carrying out Eliza’s wishes–another troubling thought.  How could Eliza not know how well I cared for the boys?

Monday morning I called the court and informed them of our situation.  The clerk expressed her sympathy and told me that she would do all she could to help keep the kids with me.  She felt that the judge would not want to move them anyhow.  The clerk also told  me to quickly file a document with my intentions.  I had an appointment with the funeral home so I figured I had time to go on Tuesday.  How wrong was I!

Later that evening I got a call from the residential facility saying that  Evan’s aunt and uncle were on their way to discharge him from the hospital.  According to the director, they had valid court papers.  They had went to a probate court judge and was issued an emergency order.  I was dumbfounded, especially considering that our particular case was only to be heard by one judge because he was so familiar with it.  When I broke the news to Evan on Sunday, he was so broken that it was obvious that he was in no condition to leave at such a crucial time.  Evan had asked me to take him home immediatedly, but I was able to convince him to wait until they adjusted his medicine.  I promised that I would pick him up in two weeks.

I called their uncle and pleaded with him not to take him out because he was not at all stable.  He finally relented.  A few hours later he called so that Evan could speak to Ethan.  He lied and had discharged him despite my pleadings!  He then demanded that I hand over his other nephew at almost 12am.  Again, I begged him to wait for a decent hour.  He hung up on me.  A few hours later I heard a lot of banging on the door and saw bright lights  shining into the house.  I became very afraid and called the police.  The operator checked to see if it was the police and determined that it was.

When I opened the door I recognized one of the officers who had been to our house frequently for runs regarding Eliza.  He greeted me and showed me the paperwork.  He seemed bothered that he had to do this particular task.  I had Ethan come out of his bedroom and he looked very scared.  They walked  him down to his new guardians.

I considered fighting them in court, but decided against it.  The probate judge who issued the order died two days after signing the paperwork.  I have been threatened so much that my family and I determined that for our safety I should not.   Their uncle told my SIL that bad things would happen to me if I tried to fight for the kids.   And I know that my husband would not want me living under such fear and pressure. 

It was and still is a difficult decision that I have yet to come to terms with.  I really wanted them here with us.

Two days after the funeral their uncle had the nerve to call and offer his condolences because he said he “liked me!” Once again I became undone as I heatedly inquired why the boys were not allowed to attend their father’s service.  He offered a few lame excuses and I hung up midway through his glib speech.

I have not heard from the boys or  Eliza.  I suspect that they may be in another state with their aunt.   

It’s been a long, hard, mournful month.  Jazmine constantly asks about my husband.  Nicholas has kept pretty quiet.  I don’t think any of us understand, but I do know that we sorely and surely miss all three.

What’s Up With Her?

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Today I received a letter from Eliza.  She wrote to inquire about the boys and to inform me that she is currently being held in segregation until the end of November.  She did not say why.  She only said “I’ve had a rough few weeks.”

Eliza asked that I not bring the boys to visit because she does not want them to see her in chains.  Not to mention, the visit would only last one hour.  She wrote that she would look forward to seeing me in December.

I am glad that she informed me, however, I was puzzled as to why she wrote Ethan telling him about being chained up in segregation, too.  Now if she does not want him to physically see her in this manner, why provide a visual?  Of course it would worry him.  I’m sure he would want to know what it means to be segregated, why she is there in the first place, and if is she hurt, just to name a few things that would probably float in his mind.

We chose not to give him that letter. I am left to wonder if she is looking for sympathy from her son?  I mean why tell him this?  I can respect her reasons for declining visits at this point, but this was information that was not appropriate to share with her child.

Is she expecting me to reach out to her again in her time of need?  I’ve tried that and look where it got me.  I’m not sure if she wrote providing just enough to pique my curiousity so that I would write her asking about the incident and offering my support.  Perhaps she was writing to diagnose the damage that she has done to our communication.  Eliza tried to tread carefully by not revealing too much in case I am not empathetic to her plight.

Was she so upset by the letter from Evan’s therapist that she let her emotions (and mouth) get her into trouble?  I mailed the letter off a few weeks ago.  Eliza shouldn’t have been surprised by its contents because I have been making her aware of the severity of Evan’s PTSD stemming from the murder. 

I knew that she would have trouble swallowing what was written.  Eliza has never really believed what I was telling her about him.   So maybe it was too much reality to handle seeing it spelled out  in no uncertain terms by the therapist.

Wanting to avoid any more contempt accusations, I contacted the court clerk and explained the situation.  I offered to mail a copy of the letter to place in our file.  I have no idea if Eliza will recant her wishes.  I don’t want to deal with her blaming us for missing two visits.  Simply put, we can not trust her.

The clerk agreed and wondered if Eliza had already sent them a copy.  I had to stifle my laughter!  Did she send us a copy of the last letter?  I also inquired about the potential court date.  The clerk said with the letter from the therapist that she doubted very highly that the judge would even act on Eliza’s claim at all.  She also mentioned that it appears that I have gone above and beyond the call of duty to keep Eliza abreast of Evan’s progress.  What a relief!

But still, I am left to wonder, once again, what’s up with her?

Rush!

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ATTENTION all coffee lovers–get ready for a good laugh! I have a confession to make; I am not much of a coffee drinker.  I really don’t like the bitter, burning taste.  I like all things tea.  In fact, my favorite hot beverage at Starbucks is the green tea latte with an extra shot of syrup, topped with whipped cream.

Now on occassion, if I am extremely tired, I will have a cuppa Joe.  However, my cup consists of more  heavy cream and sugar than actual coffee.  And strangely enough, I even love coffee ice-cream.  But the actual drink itself simply does not appeal to my taste buds.

My mother was a true coffee fan.  She liked it straight up black.  When feeling adventerous ,she would maybe add a scant teaspoon of cream and a packet of Splenda.  Mommy even drank it faithfully in the summertime–steaming hot, not the iced down watery version loved by many.

So last week on the way to dropping Nic off at school, we stopped by Dunkin Donuts.  I decided I needed a little jolt and ordered a small latte.  It was not sweet enough for me, so when I got to work, I added a few teaspoons of sugar.

About an hour later I started feeling really strange.  I felt nervous and jittery.  I could feel my heart racing and jumping.  I was dizzy and nauseous.  And I had an incredible amount of energy.  I was rapidly floating past cloud 9!  It was so scary!!!  A few of my students commented on my extra pep as I raced down the halls.   Feeling so weird I wondered to myself if they had put a shot of speed in my cup!  It was both awful and awesome.  I felt sooooo bizarre!

As the day wore I on, I felt very sluggish.  My heart was thumping slowly.  I was tired and crabby.  My attention span was short.  Honestly, I felt terrible!  It was like my system had ben poisoned!

When I got home I called my husband to let him know about my caffeine induced coma.  He commiserated with me and suggested that I take a nap.  Two hours later I woke up and called my stepfather, another true coffee drinker.   I wanted to tell him all about my near death experience. He laughed as he described my reaction as a “caffeine rush.”  He said he was familiar with the feeling as he is a regular drinker of this brutal brew.  It’s how I get through the day most of the time he informed me.

Well, not me.  I’ll  have to pass if that’s what it takes to get through the day.  It was simply the worst malaise I have felt in a long while.  I don’t want anything affiliated with coffee.  I get the shivers just looking at a coffee maker. 

In my opinion, it should be an illegal drug the way it left me reeling!

Innocent Bystander

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This morning on the news one of the top stories was about a 12 year old boy who was shot in the back.  He was outside playing in the park near his house.  He is in critical condition.

Witnesses reported that a man shot at another man, missed him, and hit the 12 year old.

This happened around 7:30pm.  It is was daylight and chidren were outside playing.  This man had no regard about anything around him to shoot with people just standing around enjoying the evening.  And I am not, by any means, saying that he had a right to shoot at his target (some other man) in the first place.

The boy’s neighbors are outraged and so am I. 

My husband and I just had a serious conversation with Kierra about innocent bystanders getting hurt.  About two weeks ago Kierra went to a park after school to watch a fight.  No one knew where she was.  By accident she “told” on herself.  She was telling my husband about seeing her cousin at the park.  She told him why she was there and my husband was so upset.

He explained to her that she could have been seriously hurt by just being in the crowd.  Kids are not fighting with fists anymore.  They are carrying knives and guns around.  Not all kids–but just look at the news sometime.  There is always something going on in the news about kids stabbing or shooting each other.  And it’s all over the country.  Not just in some generalized “bad” location.

I am one of those overprotective parents.  Ian and Imani haven’t yet reached the age to go anywhere alone.  They could be hurt playing outside in our front yard.  We watch over them while they are playing.  But we are no match for a stray bullet.

Kierra is of age where she wants to hang out with her friends.  That’s what teenagers do.  We are constantly talking to her about doing the right things.  We encourge her to be a leader and not a follower.  But even with that, she could still be in harms way just by being an innocent bystander.  That goes for anyone. 

It just saddens me that this innocent child was hurt playing in the park by his house.