homeless and moving……

I can’t wait until I’ve found my home and moved into it. Through the generosity of my friends and family, I have had a roof over my head from week to week and haven’t had to spend even one night outside in my car. I have been super blessed. I do have the best family and friend network ever.

Although I’m just a bundle of fun to be with and anyone in their right mind would want me for a house-guest, I can tell when my welcome is wearing on the thin-ish side purely from the days-at-one-place formula.

If I’ve been able to use the same towel for more than three days in a row, my days-in-one-place value is equal to 3. If I’ve not only been able to use the same towel for three days, but also been able to clean dishes up from the dinner table at least two times during the same three day period, the DIOP value rises to 4 although the actual amount of days is the same. If I’ve also taken two to five phone messages in that same period for members of the household who actually live there, my DIOP value rises to 6. If those family members take two to five phone messages for me, my DIOP rises to 9. There are other factors which continue to raise the level, too many of them to name here, but I know if the DIOP level gets to be over 10 then I have only one or two days left. I’ve never actually been asked to leave anyone’s home yet, but I’m sure it’s been a close call more than once or twice. The odds of that happening only increase with the more weeks I don’t have my own home.

I dream of the days when I’ll be able to empty my own wastebasket or wipe my own toothpaste scum from the sink. Getting to wash my own dirty dishes and sit in my underwear on the couch while I pay my electric bill are only mirages I have from time to time when I dare to let my mind wander a little…..

I hope by the first of next week I will be able to report that I have my very own residence with my very own shower mildew (well, not right away…) and have burnt at least one hastily concocted meal to an unidentifiable chunk of charcoal.

Best to all of you,

quick recap for the kids:
your mom’s good friends and family members might very well be insane or slightly slow because they keep letting me stay with them, i flunked pre-algebra in school and still manage to make up my own formula simply by being homeless; strangely, I miss scum in the sink to call my very own, still unable to cook but don’t worry, i’ll buy frozen meals when you come over.
I love you times 7.

my weekend

I have been missing my family SO MUCH this weekend. Yeesh! Not just my kids, although that would have been enough, but also my brothers and sisters. I’ve talked to all of my siblings except 2 and my yearning for familial contact has almost been quenched….and I should be alright at least until Thanksgiving weekend when I hope to see some of them.

It’s so nice to live closer to my kids. I hope to see them much more than I was able to this last year. They are all growing up so fast.

Went to see White Oleander for the second time today. It brings up tons of emotions. It was wonderfully acted and filmed.

Going in to work for my 2nd week tomorrow morning.

I have the best boyfriend in the world. It rained this weekend. We listened to it together. It was the best time I’ve had in a long time.

Fired my last rental lady and am working through a new one this week. I’m still looking for the best loft ever.

It’s funny how a one hour time change can make such a difference in how tired I am at night.

quick recap for the kids:
missing my kids and siblings, glad i live closer to them, went to the movies, still have a job, like joe, still homeless and additionally, i’m tired an hour earlier than yesterday.

One week down…how many to go?

This week was GREAT! Who knows how often I’m going to get to say that, so I thought I’d put it in bold.

I really did like this past week and I’m finding I really like working with numbers and loans etc. And I feel smart and that’s never a bad thing.
The guy I work with who is the broker is the most honest guy I’ve ever met in the finance world or just about anywhere except my mom who isn’t a guy so maybe that doesn’t count anyway….

Went and looked at Ford F-150’s today. Loved a dark gray one. I just might go back and get it. I loved my old truck and I miss it. Yes, I loved it enough to marry it…..

Going to hang out with friends tonight, work a little tomorrow and look for a place to live by the 1st of Nov.

Talked to someone on the phone tonight who was interested in reading my blog. I told her the address to type in and heard her repeat it exactly as I said it but then she told me she couldn’t get in. I asked her ‘You typed in www.passepar2.com/blog?’ And she said, ‘Oh. I just said it out loud like you did. I have to type it in?’ Maybe she has magic internet fairies at her house, but over here I still have to use my fingers.

Hope you all have a great weekend.

quick recap for the kids:
had a great week, love my job, respect my boss, feeling smart, thinking about getting ‘LeahPeah’, the sister of my last truck ‘Passepar2’, it’s nice the majority of the world has fingers to use on keyboard keys.

The CURSE of the CAR

Our story begins a few months back when our heroine was spending an afternoon conversing with friends. It was an innocent conversation. There was no foreshadowing that day that could have possibly prepared her for her CAR being STOLEN! dun….dun……dun……!
And yet, there it wasn’t, right not where she had parked it only scant minutes before.
At first she was surprised. Then flabbergasted. Then unsure as she thought she may have parked it somewhere else and just forgot. It happens.
After walking up and down the street a few times and looking like a deranged, forgetful idiot (which some say she looks like more often than just then, but anyway) she was forced to call the police to come to her aid.
The dashing, young law enforcement officer, who, just between you and me couldn’t have been more than 21, came over in a matter of minutes, filed a report and even took her to her residence.

We’ll skip ahead along our time line to a week later when, at long last, her car was found. Sans her incredibly important manuscript pages that represented about two months of work. But included in the ‘booty’ left in the car, was an odd assortment of old albums, a fake, leather, silver jacket circa 1983 and a halogen bulb, along with a few pieces of chipped Wal-Mart pottery. Not a fair trade in my book, but finders keepers. If they think they’re getting their slick, moonwalk jacket back, they have another think coming.

Insurance covered the bulk of repairs from when the thieves had taken the poor Ford Escort off-roading, and our heroine was happy to have her little car back. Little did she know that the CAR was now CURSED!

If there is a sliver of glass in the road or a tiny tack with super-puncturing abilities, her tires will find it.
If there is a curb that magically wants to grow six extra inches and then retreat back into it’s normal line before anyone sees, her car will find it.
If there is a wire that wants to go loose and mess with her head, flashing little, tiny lights on and off when they aren’t related to anything at all, they will be found under her hood.
If there is an alternator that wants to give out after only 50,000 miles instead of waiting for the usual 75 or so, it can and will be found in her car.
If there is a tree branch that is waiting to fall, it will continue waiting until her car, about 100 yards away from said branch, will call out to it and say ‘fall now, oh branch. Her car is almost there!’
If there is a slasher walking by, looking for ripe treads to flick his blade against, her tires always look the plumpest.
If there is an ornery home owner that refuses to have anyone encroach even 3 inches into the rosy hued stripe along the curb of his driveway, you can bet her car will be the one that gets towed. After which, our heroine has major flash backs to the whole STOLEN CAR (dun*dun*dun) episode and it’s so not pretty to witness.
And when she gets gas, she swears that right before the nozzle ‘accidentally’ falls off the hose line and sprays fuel all over her suit on the way to her new job, she can hear the car whispering something sneaky to the pump machine.
And if there is a bird somewhere flying over the greater part of the northern hemisphere, it will zero into the ‘secret-bird’s-eyes-only-target-zone’ on the top of her car and leave a semi-white, half-dollar sized, chunky smear where her arms can’t quite reach to clean it off.

It’s evil. Pure and simple.

And now, about $547.00 and 3 months later, she is thinking that since meeting the street on it’s terms and trying to be polite wasn’t the answer (Street, meet Leah. Leah, meet the street)and sweet-talking the car wasn’t the answer (Ok, gray goddess….just don’t attract attention. No birds today. You’re doing great. Good passing! Nice blinking skills!)so the answer must be to just ignore the whole thing until it goes away.


That’s just what the EVIL AUTO wanted her to think! And she did fall into that trap. Sadly, dear reader, her numbed mind was only disturbed out of that alternate-reality-thinking-plane when the front bumper of her car insidiously slapped the car in front of it on the rear end. Now, I don’t know how it is where you live, but where I come from, that’s just uncalled for. Her car didn’t even use the politically correct language. i.e. could I please touch your hind end with my front bumper for the count of about one one-thousand? So, needless to say, the cops were called in for illegal touching, even though there wasn’t any damage done, per se. Now her insurance people are wondering if there is any reason they shouldn’t cut her loose and she finds no real reason she could give them to keep her on as long as she has THAT particular auto in her employ.

I’ve counseled with her and told her in no uncertain terms that the time to act is NOW. She must immediately trade that car in for a new one. I’ve done it in secret, of course. After all, I don’t want her car telling my car anything……

quick recap for the kids:
don’t ever own your own car unless you want to go broke and insane, let your parents fund it for you instead.

It's so weird for me…

It’s so weird for me to think that I can wear a pantsuit to work with a semi-low-almost-cleavage-showing blouse, drive my car, vote, live on my own, order my own lawn furniture, own a gun, start my own business, shave my head, wear military fatigues if I so desire but there is a woman in the year 2002 that is going to get stoned to death because she had a baby after she got divorced which means she must have had sex without being married. The man, incidentally, faces no charges because he simply said he wasn’t involved. Well, it’s a little harder for a woman to lie while a small human gestates inside her. I’m not going to justify having sex outside marriage. But surely, Amina Lowal doesn’t deserve to have her skull split open while being helplessly buried up to her neck in dirt. If you go to Oprah’s website you can sign a petition to help save her life. I did.

I don’t think I’m thankful enough for all I have. Even with no more than a few bucks in the bank to call my own and homeless, I have so many more rights and privileges than other people around the world. I stand/sit more thankful to our founding fathers and everyone that fights to keep our country free tonight than I was this morning.

Called my sister back tonight and had one of those mime-ing talks. Because of the lack of words, these never make very good phone conversations. I’m waiting for her to say something and I’m waving my hands around in the air trying to pull her words magically from the air. ‘So, You called me?’ I ask her. ‘Ummm…yes. I did.’ she replied. *pause* ‘SO. Did you need something?’ ‘Nooooo….not really.’ *longer pause* ‘Weeeeeelll, are you doing something right now?’ ‘Yes. I’m out to dinner with friends.’ *pause: shorter than the long but longer than the shortest* ‘Huh. Well. I’m thinking you’d like to talk to me about something but you want to do it later?’ I’m trying to read her mind…. ‘Right! So glad you called.’ >click< and that was that. I guess I'll just have to wonder what it was she wanted to talk about. I hate it when that happens. I'm so NOT patient. Thinking about getting fake nails again. I miss the comforting clack-clack on the keys as I type. quick recap for the kids:
be thankful you live in the united states and try not to whine so much, the phone makes a better conversation converter than a mind reader, you might find me with talon extensions on my fingers soon. iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoumorethanyoulovemeendofdiscussiontheend.

1st day of WORK!

So. I’m a real worker now. How ’bout that?

And my title is ‘loan officer’. I sound so…so…official. But today went great and I think I’ll be good at it.

Talked to two of my sisters tonight. That’s always fun. They are both trying to think of creative ways to help their little sister over this hard stump of a place while making sure that I’m not feeling like a charity case but still getting the things I need. The cash flow is low so Rhoda is buying some of my paintings. They are about a year old, left over and on her hands, taking up space in her home and now she’s going to buy them and actually own them instead of being nice and just housing them indefinately for me and so my car and insurance will be paid. And Laurel is going to pay my first few months of rent to I can finish training to be the official loan person that I was born to be and let me pay her back later. Who could ask for a better family?

Soon, I keep telling myself…..Soon. Then I’ll be back on my own two feet and able to pass the kindness around. It’s so much harder for me to be on the receiving end of the giving. I like being on top. 🙂

Reading a book called ‘The Idiot Girls’ Action-Adventure Club’ by Laurie Notaro. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who doesn’t like to read about drunken escapades and she curses, so here’s a head’s up for my family who doesn’t like that kind of thing, but her writing style is humorous and is similar to mine. She is sarcastic and pokes fun at herself. Like me. She has a lot of things to poke fun of. Like me. I think we would be friends if we lived close enough.

Things are feeling up. I like that.

Quick recap for the kids:
i’m a loan officer, first day of work went well, didn’t wear either shirt mentioned yesterday but opted for a sleeveless one under a jacket due to the pain of the new tat, your mother is a charity case for the time being but not forever, i still read books just like i tell you to do.
much love, mom. XOXOXO

new tat

Today I got a new tattoo. I drew it and my girlfriend April put it on my upper right arm. She’s an awesome artist who also tattoos. Soon you’ll be able to view her work from my sight. I’ll include a link when it happens.

Learned something about honesty and forthrightness…..you can’t have that kind of relationship unless you both do it. One person making that effort just won’t cut it. It’s got to be a two way street.

Keeping my fingers crossed for a loft I went and looked at today. For some reason I picture a loft being up on the top of a building but apparently, it can be on the ground level, too, which this one is. But the space is SO me. If it doesn’t work out I’m sure I’ll find something else, but I really liked this place.

Missing my kids something fierce today.

Starting my new job in the morning. Going to wear my power shirt….red. Maybe. Or maybe the white….

quick recap for the kids:
new tat, yes it hurt like crap, love it, no you can’t have one till you hit age 21, honesty is a two way street, want the loft, love the loft space, miss you guys a WHILE BUNCH, no idea what to wear my first day on the new job. LOVE YOU TONS!!!

At my friend's house today in LA.

At my friend’s house today in LA. I’ve missed her. She’s a fellow artist and her work is so powerful! In fact, I’m using one of her pieces as the front cover picture on my book. And I’m trying to figure out how to include a few more of them somewhere inside the book. She doesn’t have a website yet, but one is in the works.

We went to a store called Walser’s and it is hands down the best art store I’ve been to in a long time. I’m like a kid in the candy store when I walk down in between the paper and colors…..i get these huge urges to buy one of everything.

It’s great to see old friends. I haven’t seen her in about a year but she’s one of those that you don’t have to see all the time even though you’d like to and you catch up in a few minutes and it’s like you saw them yesterday.

I start my job on Monday. I know I can do this real life thing.
My book proposal is almost finished and I have a few leads on publishers. I’m getting excited about it being finished. Finally.
I’m working on two seperate screen plays at the same time. It keeps life interesting.
And I like to drive even though my possesed car plays so many tricks on me. That concludes the thoughts for today pretty much.

quick recap for the kids: playing over at my friends house today, went to a killer art store where you know mom spent way too much money, nervous about new job on monday, still writing down all my weird thoughts and trying to make sense out of them, haven’t let the car win yet!
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My kids told me that they don't see me enough…


My kids told me that they don’t see me enough and wanted an update more often…hence the BLOG. Generally, I’m not someone who might type my life for the view of my children, let alone strangers. But, here I am. Typing. I found a job. I know, you’re all relieved to hear it. I know I am to have found it. It awaits to be seen, however, if it lives up to all it’s claims. The job has attached to it more hopes than I would have thought possible. The job makes it possible to finally move into the loft. The job will help me to buy my camera equipment back. And to have Christmas with my kids at my place this year. And to maybe get rid of my demon car. (I’ll explain about my possessed vehicle another time.)And to put some money in savings. And….and….and….. I hope the job can take all the pressure.

I’m finding it hard to be a real adult. I have to have a real job and have adult problems with money and people etc. I like it. I’m not used to it and maybe I never will be but I still like it.

Being divorced has it’s down side, like not having a date every weekend, whether you wanted one or not, to take you to Aunt Bertha’s barbecue or someone to blame for everything that made your day crappy or to take out the trash for you or to yell at when they don’t take out the trash for you….but it definitely has it’s up side like getting to spend 4 hours in the bookstore without feeling like you’re putting someone out and not buying ice cream because you just don’t feel like it and no one has a coronary.

But sometimes you can feel lonely and unsupported and FRAGILE.

I have a boyfriend. And yes, he picks his nose just like every other boyfriend out there. And no, I don’t find it charming or cute even though we are still technically in the honeymoon stage of the boyfriend/girlfriend relationship.

But he does something that no one has ever done for me in my life before. He genuinely cares about how I feel and actually asks me quite frequently how I’m doing. I found it fascinating at first. In a specimen-under-the-glass kind of way. I wasn’t sure how to respond. But I’ve moved past that now and just enjoy the feeling of being cared for in this small way that seems huge to me now. I’m sure before long I’ll take it for granted and start picking my nose in front of him, too.

So. To my kids (who won’t want to wade through the long version):

quick recap i’m now blogging against my nature, hope you enjoy, found a job, hope i don’t die from it’s disappointment, glad i’m divorced, have a boyfriend, we both pick our nose, one out in the open and the other still in private, and he makes me feel special.

and i miss you tons. and i love you more than that. and…and…and…..