Leaving for Hell-A tomorrow morning...for major surgery..oh joy.

So that means I will be off the grid, internet-wise, until probably the weekend, Sunday a good guess. I don't want to bring my computer to the hospital for obvious reasons..like it will be a sitting duck in my room whilst I go under the knife. It's a rather nice, but 4 yr old 17 in screen HP laptop. It's all I have, so if someone lifted it..I would be on a rampage to say the least, regardless of my level of pain or any nurse telling me to get back to my room. I do not take direction well when I am highly pissed the fuck off.

Carry-on Bloggers! Keep holding their feet to the fire and rip em a new one every chance you get. Cyber hugs to you all, and thinking good thoughts about this spine surgery since it will be the first I have experienced in my life.

AMF until I return, rested and full of piss and vinegar! (translated it means: adios mutha fuckas)

My summer vacation and other horror stories

Actually, my time in Oklahoma wasn't a horror story until I found a tick on my tit. Being a city girl, I freaked the fuck out and ran screaming over to my son's landlord, who lives next door, begging her to get it off of me. She took a pair of tweezers and jerked the little blood sucker off, then told me where they like to 'hide' on the human body, the warmest regions...use your imagination and I am sure you can figure out why I spent the next 36 hours refusing to get near my son's dog or sit on his couch and kept getting naked and looking at various places on my body in a mirror.

I am slowly putting up photos on my DeviantArt account which, if you are bored to death and wish to peruse, you can see them there or as my Photo of the Day here on Nutjob.I did manage to spoil the shit out of his great little cocker spaniel named Charlie.

The weather was friggin horrendous, the temps in triple digits with the humidity and dewpoints off the fucking charts. Of course the day I left the temps went down into the 80's and here at home they soared into the 105 degree range...evidently hell does follow me around the globe.

It's so green in OK I was in awe. I didn't take a lot of outdoor photos as the heat was insufferable damn it. Here in Cali, its nothing but brown or scorched and burnt, depending on where you live.

Strangers are friendly as all get-out, waving as you drive by or just being polite when you deal with them in stores or other common areas. Customer service is alive and well in the midwest, unlike Cali where all retail clerks act like they are doing you a favor helping you.

Since my son lives in the middle of no-friggin-where, on a dirt road with no name...needless to say I never ventured out alone as there was no way I would of found my way back to his house. Those dirt roads were awfully friggin narrow and my questions about how to pass an oncoming truck or farm vehicle were met with laughter. He also does not have more than six tv channels and internet was on his tiny-ass cell phone. I stayed up on baseball scores and that was the total sum of my internet usage whilst in the heartland.

My son did take me out and about however, so I got to see the beautiful countryside and meet his friends, all of whom were all very hospitable and quite talkative. My favorite photo that I took is my son holding a new-born calf that was rejected by her mom who gave birth to twins. He will help bottle-feed the calf until she is old enough to go back into the herd. The kid wants to go into ranching as a...cough...job, and although I believe he could do it..the chance to 'move up' is kinda slim don't ya think? Plus, no benefits and feeding cattle three times a day in the snow during winter doesn't sound too great either.

All in all, it was an interesting and informative trip. I still see all the lush green, and that tick, in my minds eye whilst sitting in the friggin heat here in the south end of the San Joaquin valley.

And I really miss my son..

Happy trails to moi....

I am heading out to the midwest. Wish me luck as I have never spent time in our nation's midsection. Will be visiting my son and dragging him, kicking and screaming, to see my mother whom he can't stand.

See you folks in a week, as there is no intertubes in the middle of no-friggin-where Oklahoma where my son lives.

Be good to yourselves and each other.

About my Dad...and the YSFH

First I need to tell you that I love my Yuppie Sista from Hell (YSFH), who has stepped up to the plate as never before when it comes to Dad and his problems lately. She has done more get his life back together and taken more shit from the 'old man" than I ever have or could. She is getting him into a senior apt complex which is no picnic with a jackass like him. She is replacing all his lost furniture, clothing and all the other things that go with 'having a life'.

I tip my hat to her...and everyone else should as well. I have blogged, in the past, that she is self-centered, but this time..when the shit totally hit the fan, when he was burned out of his apartment...she has walked a mile and more in my flip flops (no one else has btw) and for that.... I love and adore her.

If it wasn't for her...my dad would be living with that grifter whackjob from hell who has been milking him for years out of his monthly retirement income..her and her two adult kids, who sponged off my father for a year when they lived with him rent-free.

So hats off to the YSFH...I love her and appreciate her like never before...because she is working a full-time job, mostly out-of-town in LA and commuting back to San Diego daily, and taking care of that cranky pain in the ass who, if left to his own resources, would be drunk by noon and never eat an ounce of real food.

I am sending her the link to this post...she deserves someone paying homage to her work for the last week and believe me when I say none of our other sisters or our brother have done shit...or offered to help in any way.

I love you sista woman.

This n' that.

First things first...Sirens Chronicles is closing up shop. It was a fun carnival ride while it lasted. I met many a talented writer and people who still give a shit how the world is run and by whom. I will miss my morning duties, but hey....ch-ch-changes ya know?

Second, I can no longer tolerate BP and their fuckery. Evidently The Big O can't either. He needs to put his foot up their collective ass and shake em up a bit. I find myself changing the channel when BP and the oil spill are being discussed. Chalk it up to PTSD with regard to the Santa Barbara oil spill and how it affected me as a young adult...seriously, I do not kid on this issue. Dead or dying animals covered in oil are never funny or appropriate.

Third, my dad is doing much better...but he still won't discuss alternative types of living, and most family-type folks still think he needs to be in a more controlled setting. The differences lie in how much control. Family politics are such a bitch...but then, so am I. ;p

Time to get my sports sunday on...I love this day of the week. ;)

Oh kiss my brown ass bitch.

I send that thought to my yuppie sista from hell. That cunt is on my last nerve. She has spent a total of five-fucking-minutes with my father in the last three weeks.

Who does this dumb bitch think she is fooling? It certainly isn't me.

I live with the old fart. And lemme tell ya, he gets more together with each friggin day. He drives me up a fucking wall with his bitchin and needling.

And the man deserves some dignity. ok?

Plus, my animals miss me, and so does the Ball n Chain....

When the mierda hits the fan and other assorted complaints

When I last gave an update regarding my father, we had just gotten home from five days of tests at the local hospital. Nothing was found to be conclusive as to why he became so befuddled and couldn't find his way home.

The old bastard is slowly coming around to his old self...which means he is critical, bitchy, a clean freak and a huge pain in my ass.

The entire family and his doctor are still telling him he needs to go into Assisted Living, to which he replys: No f'n way.

I am in the middle of this familial civil war...I am the only one that sees him constantly and sees the improvement in him. The rest just seem to want what works best for them.

It's gonna get ugly...bet on it.

When the parent and the child change places...

Ok, so they couldn't find out what made my Dad forget where the fuck he lived or how to get there.

They released him, into my care, yesterday afternoon. Round 4:30 pm to be a tad precise. I tell you the time because it's important...

Every night he was in the hospital, five of them, he got batshit crazy and wanted to cold-cock anyone and everyone that was preventing him from walking out of the hospital, in his hospital nightgown and usually sans underwear.

It's called Sundowners Syndrome. Take my word for it...it ain't pretty and it's scary as shit for loved ones and nursing staff that have to deal with it. You can not reason with them, you can not control them and they can and will hurt others if it's not dealt with...usually by tying them to their beds when drugs fail to subdue them.

So...to say I was scared to death to take my father to his home at that hour, with just me myself and I to deal with him is an understatement m'dear friends. I was frantic, asking his doctor what to do if he went off on me.

Doc said...call 911, tell them to take him back to the hospital and pray they got there before he hurt me or himself. But Doc really believed he wouldn't go into that mode and I had no choice but to trust his judgment.

I am happy to report Pops maintained all evening and remained lucid, aware and thankfully as close to normal as he could get. He was tired but so damn happy to be in his condo with his beautiful grey cat and me. For the first time in almost a week he blissfully slept through the night.

I slept or tried to sleep, on the couch in the living room...to make sure he didn't get up and try to go for a stroll in his skivvies at 2 or 3am.

When he got up this morning, he was happy and relaxed and wanted to do his laundry at 6am. I said 'go for it Daddy' so he marched back and forth to the laundry room for about 90 minutes whilst I sat and pondered the huge changes that were coming to his life...and mine.

I can only care for him, here at his home in San Diego, for a month. My life in Bakersfield can be put on hold for that long. His doctor told him in no uncertain terms that he can no longer live alone because he isn't eating regularly, taking his meds daily and drinking too much booze for a man of his age (80) with medical problems like RA, high blood pressure and a host of other issues that affect the elderly. His drivers license has been suspended at this point and the chances of him getting it back are...well, slim and none.

The task at hand is to make him realize the reality of his situation and the options he has, which are limited to getting a live-in caretaker (which he can't afford) or moving into an Assisted Living home for the elderly. 

Needless to say, he flat out refuses to consider the second option. I do not blame him. But I also know that is the best of the two options. I wish with all my heart I could bring him to live with me and the Ball n' Chain but our relationship has always been adversarial and our home is not somewhere he would be happy. Dad is conservative and I am a leftwing nutjob. I already have someone to care for...my husband who is 10 years older than I and dealing with his diabetes and other ailments. I have 3 blown discs that limit me to top it all off.....the excuses are endless.

I feel ashamed that I can not care for my father and his dementia. I am frustrated and angry that this falls on my shoulders. I have four other younger siblings who have a myriad of reasons why they can not take him. I understand their positions, believe me.

It's weighing on me and I see no light at the end of this tunnel. Thanks for listening.

Painting: Alzheimers the Journey Painting by Yulonda Rios

The real unemployment number- 17.5%

From the WSJ blog:

The comprehensive gauge of labor underutilization, known as the “U-6″ for its data classification by the Labor Department, accounts for people who have stopped looking for work or who can’t find full-time jobs. Its continuing divergence from the official rate (the “U-3″ unemployment measure) indicates the job market has a long way to go before growth in the economy translates into relief for workers.

The U-6 rate is now the highest since the Labor Department started this particular data series in 1994. It likely isn’t as bad as it was in the 1980s, when the headline unemployment rate hit 10.8%. U-6 only goes back to 1994, but a discontinued measure has a longer history. That old U-6 measure peaked at 14.3% in 1982. Through some calculation, a comparable measure can be determined in the current report. Under the old U-6 methodology, the October rate would be 14%, the highest rate since 1982, but still below the peak.

*snip*

The U-6 figure includes everyone in the official rate plus “marginally attached workers” — those who are neither working nor looking for work, but say they want a job and have looked for work recently; and people who are employed part-time for economic reasons, meaning they want full-time work but took a part-time schedule instead because that’s all they could find.

So fuck that 10.2% number tossed out there today..the real number is a lot friggin uglier.

I finally went to the damn Doc's today. As Dave told me in an email yesterday..there is little if anything a doctor can do for what ails moi at this point. Gotta be patient...well, I ain't. So I whined and got some yummy cough med with codeine in it.

At least I haven't been able to smoke a cigarette in five days. Nap time for my sick ass...

Playing hockey with a brussel sprout..

It's been one of those weeks with the critters. A few of them are pms'ing bad and taking it out on the others. Spanky, here on the right, is on my last nerve as the youngest and most wily of the housemates.

Charlie and her brother Jack are still picking on Scooter, who then takes it out on one of the others..you know..shit rolls down hill.

When the DirectTv guy came over to take us off cable and into the world of satellite television, every single one of the cats ran under the bed and stayed there for hours. Thank Buddha I have a king-sized bed, or they wouldn't of all fit.

Junior, the DirectTv guy was nice and professional but the nitwit had a problem with remembering to close the screen door behind him. The Ball n' Chain™ was tasked with watching to make sure the door got closed and none of the house felines escaped everytime Junior had to go in or out.

After he left, we did a headcount and thats always fun around here...not! But they were all eventually counted for.

Last night, we splurged and bought two nice fat steaks and two gigantic potato's to bake..er..microwave. When the BnC went out to clean the grill, he found out that a central part was broken and we couldn't use the bbq grill to cook our magnificent steaks.

So we then began an online search for a quick fix...aka a new but very cheap charcoal grill to replace our expensive and now useless gas grill. Praise Buddha we found one..just one problem..

It needed to be put together. The BnC and I are not mechanically inclined..to say the least.

It took us 3 hours to put together a friggin cheap-ass charcoal grill with four legs. I shit you not..Three Fucking Hours. At one point I figured we might be eating those steaks around midnight.

We got to eat them around 9pm..not too bad. Grilling in the dark is not without it's problems. I like my steak rare..but cold and still mooing doesn't do a thing for me. The middle has to at least be cooked slightly and friggin hot for christs sake. So, after numerous checks with a flashlight, my steak was cooked and we finally sat down at the dining table to eat.

At one point I got up to get something to drink with my wonderful meal.

The BnC isn't the best at paying attention, so when I heard him scream Spanky's name and tell him to 'drop it'..I figured my steak was off my plate and being dragged around the floor by the Spankster. Believe me..he has dragged some large food items off the counter..huge things that look as big as he is. Pee Wee likes to drag an entire cube of butter into the living room and eat it and Bobby Joe has run off with a whole slice of pizza before..but I digress.

My steak was safe and untouched. We ate our meal and then I drug my tired ass into the bedroom to lay down and watch some sports on the boob tube. Dishes are NOT my responsibility and I didn't give a shit if they got done last night or not.

They didn't get done last night. The BnC was tired and cranky and wasn't in the mood to wash dishes. Believe me when I say..I did not care one whit. Until I got up this morning to slop the hogs...

That's when I found Pee Wee and Spanky playing hockey on the kitchen floor with an errant brussel sprout. The looked at me, screaming profanities at them, looked at the brussel sprount and hauled ass for a safe house..er..safe hiding place.

I had left 4 brussel sprouts on my plate. There were none on my plate when I looked this morning.

Nothing says fun like hunting down 3 lost brussel sprouts at 8am on a Sunday morning.

I found them all..and I am going back to bed. Have a good Sunday m'dear readers. ;)

It's Monday? Ah man...

I am not a fan of Mondays. Dunno why, but I just don't freaking like them. After a weekend crammed full of sports it's such a letdown to wake up Monday Morning and have nothing but MSNBC..yuck!

Ok, so I sent Mommy-Dearest a Candygram this morning. I hope the ole biddy doesn't keel over from the shock of receiving something from me on Mothers Day. It's only been 20 years since I last acknowledged her as my mother.

The Ball n' Chain™ is losing his sight. Glaucoma. He is an old, fat, type two diabetic..that doesn't take care of his diabetes, so this shouldn't be a surprise. But it is a shock.

My cross-country trip that was to begin in a week or so is now on hold. I am not mad at him, but I am worried about his dumb ass. The doctors have been treating his glaucoma but it's not responding. Now, if I could talk to the doctors and tell them that the fat fuck doesn't eat right or use his glucose meter or any of the other things diabetics are supposed to do..then they might understand why the drugs aren't working on his friggin eyes.

Perhaps he is tired of living with the biggest pain in the ass this side of the Mississippi. That would be me ya know...

Or he is doing the 'feel sorry for me' bit..and if that is the case..the mutha fucka is going to regret it.

His dog is diabetic too..but we have her in great shape now. She has lost a shit-load of weight. She takes insulin shots twice a day but has gone from 15 cc's down to 3 cc's twice a day. She has already lost her eyesight from the diabetes, but she still motors around like crazy. It makes me keep the house picked up since an errant shoe can cause her a lot of pain when she falls over it. Even the cats are used to her tripping over them. They don't go off on her thank gawd or I would have to box their little ears.

So, I have two old, white, diabetic dipshits to deal with. The dog has no say in her treatment regimin, but the Ball n' Chain™..well, thats another friggin story ain't it?

It's like dealing with a 12 year old..him, not the dog. The dog is getting long in the tooth (12 years) but has more energy and spunk than I have seen in her in seven years. The B&C on the other hand..ah..don't get me started again.

If I didn't love him so much I would be forced to kill him and bury him in the desert somewhere outside of Las Vegas. Isn't he lucky? ;p

As for me..I have lost so much weight..which is supposed to be great, right? You get to buy new clothes, etc. But they don't tell you that you will also lose a whole freaking, fucking cup size in the bra dept AND my underwear won't stay up. I am tired of pulling on my drawers every third step..really, I am. At least I still have more tata's than any of my sisters. Those bitches are FLAT! ;)

The Loo...

I never close the bathroom door. Hardly ever. That is because it is the smallest friggin bathroom in the contiguous states and frankly if I am in there for any decent amount of time..I get claustrophobic as hell and then I don't finish my business.

Besides, its off the beaten path and it's not like anyone will have to see me sitting there. You have to make two turns to get into that little room and everyone knows that if they see the light on..mom is in there, so they just scream to 'hurry the fuck up' and go wait somewhere.

Now, most people bring a book or periodical in with them, me..hell, I got felines to watch.

Yes, my cats all come into the bathroom and play whilst I am doing my 'bidness'. Its interesting and sometimes I get involved in their playing around.

See, no wall or floorspace is wasted in that little friggin room. If you happen to be over six feet tall, its a real bitch to sit down. Your knees will smash up against the side of the sink cabinet..or so my tall son tells me. So, that means I can turn on the faucet whilst I am sitting on the crapper with little to no effort on my part.

The cats love to play with the water and I will occasionally revert the spray so that it drenches one of them. It might sound mean, but they should know that about me by now..wouldn't you think? Then there is the empty toilet paper roll to play with..oh the fun!

Now, for the rare times I do not want their company, and actually close the door..they still manage to get in. They send Crazy Patty to open the door. She is quite good at getting the bathroom door open, even when you hear the click of the latch..Patty can usually manage to jimmy the damn thing enough to get it open.

Then they all come parading in so innocently.

Playing hide and seek in the tub/shower is another of their favorite things to do whilst I am trying to ...well...you know.

I have informed the Ball n' Chain™ that I need a new door latch..I do expect some amount of privacy in there..it's not always fun and games time for the love of Pete.

He just smiled his Buddha smile..which means I won't be getting a new lock. See..they don't bother him when he's in there.

Politcs black out in force..

I will try not to just write about sports..perhaps music will be ok?

I just can not deal with political fuckery right now. I have way too much crappola going on in my personal life, my plate, it seems, is very full. Sirens Chronicles was hacked again..and this time might be the one that takes it down and we rebuild from scratch..losing years of everyone's work. It looks ok from the outside..but none of us can get inside the site. :(

I have medical issues again..but the bad part is the Doc hasn't got clue friggin one about what is wrong with me and that doesn't make me feel warm and fuzzy. The worst part is the unending, constant pain associated with this medical problem..no pain med in the world helps..I kid you not. I can't walk, sit, move, cough, etc..without sharp jabbing pain internally. That shit gets old real fast and its now been 10 days and counting. Needless to say I am consuming a lot of medicinal cannabis and a Vicodin or RushBo's favorite..Oxycontin, every 5 hours to boot. Nothing takes the pain away..I just don't give a shit when I am doped up to my eyeballs.

The CT scan was interesting as I had never had one before. Nothing like laying on a table that slides in and out of a giant donut. It was a noisy machine however and my ears were humming for hours afterward. Now we wait for the reading of the slides and the report to go across town to my Doc. This medical issue has nothing (he thinks) to do with the blown three discs in my back..so at least I do not have to deal with the jackasses at Workers Compensation..just the jackasses at my regular heath insurance company. They move with the speed of a geriatic turtle..bet if they were in alot of pain they would move their asses..what do you think?

As for good news..ok I have some:

Spanky is making friends with the other kittehs of the house..but he still plays pretty much only with Pee Wee, the second youngest kitteh and an evil little bastard to boot. Pee Wee has managed to destroy five sets of blinds, three blackout curtains and the curtain rod over the kitchen sink..which is a bitch since I have a bad habit of walking around the kitchen dressed in nothing but my bra and underoos. So I like to make breakfast and dinner semi-nude..who cares?

Probably the dude next door..he didn't sign up for this when he rented that apartment next door to our house..watching some ole biddy parading around in her skivvies. Believe me when I say small children would run away screaming if they caught a glimpse of me half dressed. That way I don't ruin a perfectly good shirt, as I am a very sloppy cook..makes sense right?

Now, If I looked like Heidi Klum no one would bitch..bet me.

My son in OK has adopted a sweet little cocker spaniel. The poor thing was being punked by a big mean boxer and my son told his boss he would take the little guy. He called me several times tonight to give me updates on how Charlie the Cocker was doing..and whether Fred the Cat had opened Charlie's snout yet. When Brian was little, we had a great little cocker named Reggie..sadly my ex got him in the divorce. I did drive over to VA and steal him once..but found out that the VA cops will cross state lines when the animal is valued at over a grand.

Needless to say I had to give Reggie back to the ex. Brian was sad for months. We would drive over to VA from MD once a week and visit Reggie whilst the ex was out getting tanked on Saturdays. Eventually the ex's neighbors turned him in for animal abuse, but failed to call and tell me. By the time I found out about it..Reggie was gone from animal control.

But Brian loves his new little cocker with the self esteem issues. It's funny that he did this as he has constantly bitched at me for years for taking in every abused dog and abandoned cat for miles around. He calls me a sucker on a regular basis..and..guess what..I called him one tonight at least a half a dozen times. ;)

On the sports front..my hapless Padres are ahead of the Dodgers in the standings. True, its only been five days since the start of the season..but hey..you have to take your glory when you can..and since we are a split family when it comes to baseball, this gives me the opportunity to talk shit about the Dodgers to the Ball n' Chain™.

I never miss that kinda opportunity folks..lemme tell ya. And yes, they actually wore those mustard-colored uni's back in 1972. Gross..

Well, I lied..you got a bit o' sports..and no music..so sue me. You want music..check out my tunes at Blip. They run the gamut..from Blues to The Kinks, to Led Zeppelin. And a whole lotta stuff in between. Blip is all the new rage..come join us!