Dentist


This is going to be short and sweet because I am already a nervous wreck. I have a dentist appointment in less than 2 hours. I am so afraid of dentists. I have never visited without pain. I know I am getting x-rays. I know there is a chance of dentures. I am praying for another solution.

What I need from you is prayers to be as calm as possible, not to hyperventilate or vomit. Thank-you.

dentures

Dr. Phil


Did any of you watch the Dr. Phil show today? It was sad and I got angry at seeing some smiles and laughter in the audience. Scammers on the elderly; this was the topic. I always say if the scammers and cheaters of our world would spend half the time thinking about work as much as they ponder on scamming, we would see many a genius walking around.

I felt bad for the lady. She claimed she loved her husband who had died earlier; but she had not been in love with him. She is 71 years old and before she dies, she wants to be in love.

One of those scammers from another part of the world has got a strong hold on her. Now I should say here that this has not been proven by the show as of yet. There is a part 2 tomorrow afternoon; but even the previews seem to lean on it being a scam, so I don’t want to say scammer for sure. Maybe I should say, possible scam alert!

So this woman who desperately wanted to fall in love finds the perfect man online. Dark  hair, beautiful eyes, so polite. They never meet but through love-talk emails, texts, and phone calls, he somehow manages to get $218,000 from her.

It is so bad, that she even lost her home because she was giving this guy so much money each month she couldn’t keep up her house payments. Her step-daughter was on the show and the dagger words that flew back and forth just about killed me.

It was very hard to decide whether the two ladies were fighting because mom lost all her money, or the daughter had so many items purchased by mom, such as a new updated kitchen, that she was mad because mom had no more money. Like I said, it was hard for me to tell.

The whole thing is sad. To want something so bad, you will give up all you have for someone who may or not exist. Is this what people are thinking when they see no other way out but suicide?

I will watch tomorrow to see if my hunch is right, a scammer on the take. I sure hope this mom and step-daughter can find their way back to each other. If you have an elderly family member or an older neighbor you are friends with, and if they have access to a computer, please, please teach them about the scammers, especially the ones who like to clean house of the elderly.

parents

The Drug of Choice


I was told this is a true story. I can’t say it is or it isn’t, since I don’t know the girl. What I do know is; young people and old should read this. It is an important message written by the young girl herself.

“I AM METH”
This was written by a young girl who was in jail for drug charges, and was addicted to meth. She wrote this while in jail. As you will soon read, she fully grasped the horrors of the drug, as she tells in this simple, yet profound poem. She was released from jail, but, true to her story, the drug owned her. They found her dead not long after, with the needle still in her arm….

Please understand, this thing is worse than any of us realize…

My Name Is “Meth”
I destroy homes, I tear families apart, take your children, and that’s just the start.
I’m more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold,
The sorrow I bring is a sight to behold.
If you need me, remember I’m easily found,
I live all around you – in schools and in town.
I live with the rich; I live with the poor,
I live down the street, and maybe next door.
I’m made in a lab, but not like you think,
I can be made under the kitchen sink.
In your child’s closet, and even in the woods,
If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.
I have many names, but there’s one you know best,
I’m sure you’ve heard of me, my name is crystal meth.
My power is awesome; try me you’ll see,
But if you do, you may never break free.
Just try me once and I might let you go,
But try me twice, and I’ll own your soul.
When I possess you, you’ll steal and you’ll lie,
You do what you have to — just to get high.
The crimes you’ll commit for my narcotic charms
Will be worth the pleasure you’ll feel in your arms,
your lungs your nose.
You’ll lie to your mother; you’ll steal from your dad,
When you see their tears, you should feel sad.
But you’ll forget your morals and how you were raised,
I’ll be your conscience, I’ll teach you my ways.
I take kids from parents, and parents from kids,
I turn people from God, and separate friends.
I’ll take everything from you, your looks and your pride,
I’ll be with you always — right by your side.
You’ll give up everything – your family, your home,
Your friends, your money, then you’ll be alone.
I’ll take and take, till you have nothing more to give,
When I’m finished with you, you’ll be lucky to live.
If you try me be warned – this is no game,
If given the chance, I’ll drive you insane.
I’ll ravish your body, I’ll control your mind,
I’ll own you completely, your soul will be mine.
The nightmares I’ll give you while lying in bed,
The voices you’ll hear, from inside your head.
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you’ll see,
I want you to know, these are all gifts from me.
But then it’s too late, and you’ll know in your heart,
That you are mine, and we shall not part.
You’ll regret that you tried me, they always do,
But you came to me, not I to you.
You knew this would happen, many times you were told,
But you challenged my power, and chose to be bold.
You could have said no, and just walked away,
If you could live that day over, now what would you say?
I’ll be your master, you will be my slave,
I’ll even go with you, when you go to your grave.
Now that you have met me, what will you do?
Will you try me or not? It’s all up to you.
I can bring you more misery than words can tell,
Come take my hand, let me lead you to hell.
If you care enough, please forward this profound poem and share the deadly outcome of this drug that is killing our young kids young and old…
please look at my picture what it did to me!!!

meth

As the Song goes, The Show Must Go On!


It is a pretty common fact that when you get good news, you went through bad news prior. Well, in some ways this is the way it happened for me too. I just wanted to drop a little line and ask for prayers for calmness and bravery.

For the next few days I will go through something hard, and then enjoy the rewards of being a big girl. LOL Tomorrow is where the prayers come in. I am driving to the dentist with my big girl panties on; but as I walk through the cold, heavy metal doors, my stomach will knot up, my legs and teeth will chatter and I will feel faint as I get a tooth pulled.

I am not getting all of them pulled. I have delayed that part. I didn’t want to go home with a mouth full of pain and I would be no joy to be around. I can always be that way after the holidays.  I went to the dentist in the beginning because a large filling cracked and I am going to have that particular tooth pulled in the morning. So pray that I remain strong and that big girl I described above.

My reward will be; the next day I get to leave with my daughter and family to head back to Indiana to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. Yes, I am overly excited I guess, but why not? I haven’t seen my two sons and their families since Sept. 29th. Have I been in Russellville, Ky that long? Yup, I guess so.

So as the song goes, on with the show!!!!

The Gloved Hand


It started out with rain and a gutter full of fog. I had to go to work. I had called out too many times. I looked out the tear driven window. I saw my car out under the car port. How many times I had placed a request to that cheap-ass landlord to put a light out under it. All I asked for is one light. For heaven’s sake, is that too much considering the dollars he rakes in from all of us tenants each month?

No, he hadn’t done it yet. Said he had been so busy. Doing what, screwing that bleached-out blonde bimbo upstairs in room 69? I had passed her many times in the halls as we all picked up our mail at one specified spot. She must be about 60 or so. Looks like an old used mop; but I have to admit, she still carries the curves with ease.

I stood watching the rain fall, cursing myself for not buying me a gun when I had the money. I work my ass off, only to give it to those money hungry bill people. Miss one payment, and they are almost on your front door with snarling teeth and that fake smile, holding their grubby hands out. Living week to week seems to be the main stream of life for most of us here on hood alley.

A notch above the gutter, a roof over our head, only a few cockroaches to be seen scurrying up the walls and I haven’t heard those measly mice either. I guess the landlord does do something with his time besides bop that old hag. I ought to let his wife know, but hell, those who play with fire do get burned. Let him burn  his own ass.

I looked at my watch. Damn, it is getting to the point I could be late. Do I dare call off one more time? I really don’t mind my job, no really, I don’t. I work down at the truck cafe nights. Let those bastards pinch my ass or peak down my blouse when I am pouring another cup of java and they tip me well.

My issue is the recurring dreams I have had lately. Afraid, afraid that the real boogie man is outside my car waiting. Waiting for me. He is going to threaten to slice my throat if I don’t give him a piece of ass. A bad dream I have had, but after so many nights, could it become a reality?

I turned from the window and went in and finished putting my tight jeans on. I pushed my breasts together and pasted them tighter with a piece of clear tape. That ought to get me some decent tips tonight.

I colored in my brows, put some gold-specked eye shadow, smacked my lips together after putting some ultra-shine gloss on them. A couple of coats of extra black mascara and a half of can of hair spray and I was ready.

My gut started to flutter with butterflies. I just had this sick feeling in my mind that says, tonight is the night. Oh well, Blanche, get your jacket and hat on and get yourself  out to that car.

I made sure all the lights were off. I flipped the porch light on and stood outside my back door looking in the direction of the car. Only a few yards, I can do it, now go. I walk slowly to the car and place my key in the lock. Quickly looking side to side I turn the key.

I push in on the door handle and open the door. Suddenly a glove wraps itself around my mouth from behind. I push it away and it comes back with a force. I try to say something, to scream, but my mouth is covered with what felt like tar.

I was flipped around so I was facing my reaper. Glove removed, I pleaded for my life. ” Please, please don’t hurt me. I don’t have any money. Hell I don’t even carry a purse. Only thing I got is my license on me.”

” I don’t want your money lady. I am not going to hurt you either. We just need to talk.” Pee slowly trickled down my legs and I cussed this bitch out as now I was going to definitely be late for work, because I would have to go back in and change pants.

The scarf came undone from the intruder’s face and my mouth fell open as I recognized the person standing before me. ” Phyllis, what , what in the world are you doing here, and why the hell are you trying to scare me half to death? Damn woman, you about gave me a heart attack.”

” I want answers. I have a feeling my husband is cheating on me. I need your help.”

” Listen Phyllis, your husband is my landlord. I am not going to do anything to jeopardize my getting kicked out of here. If you want to know anything do your own spy work. Better yet, why don’t you ask him.”

” You have eyes, I know you snoop on the going’s on here. Tell me my suspicions are right. I promise to make it worth your while.”

Now she had my attention. ” How you going to make it worth my while Phyllis? The only thing that works good for me is cold, hard cash, nothing else.”

” How about six months of free rent?” My mind quickly tossed these words around and I locked my car and she and I headed back into my room. The hell with work. I could find a new job with my extra money I was going to save. Maybe even a better job and a better place to live. I smiled as I unlocked my door and let her in.

 

 

 

fear

The Dark Hall


He stood against the sink, blood running down his chin. His eyes were bloodshot. His hands were shaking. How am I going to make it? I can’t go on much longer. Who will help me?

Asleep or awake it followed him every minute. He tried to run away but it chased him down, choking him, and as he gasped for air, he could hear the echos of laughter beyond the room.

Ever since that night, ever since he stood in the dark hallway, he had been a changed man. Always poor, barely able to feed himself, living paycheck week to week, he was never able to move forward from this thing he was forced to call home.

Bad things happened here more often than not. Screams from women being forced to do things they didn’t want to. Gun shots going off when people didn’t get their way. Dirty syringes could be found in the dark hallway.

He grew up with dreams. He never could taste them. Greedy hands reaching out to grab him, leaving him naked for the world to see nothing but the worn clothes he owned. He tried going to church but it never worked. The promises that he heard always seemed empty. His lap felt light, he couldn’t believe.

Sometimes just for the hell of it he would walk the few blocks to the homeless shelter. There he would wear his most ragged and beg for a cot only for the voices he would hear while pretending to go to sleep.

He shared coffee and some cold toast in the mornings and then he would walk the few blocks back to his home. He would then get out his pad and pencils and he would sketch his memories of who he had met on paper.

He would walk over to his closet and opening the door, there he would see the many boxes; neatly lined up one on top of the other. He would pull them out one at a time and open them; reliving the chapters of his life.

One box sat alone. On the top shelf, dust starting to cover, fading out the words on the label. All to clear in his mind he pulled that box down and opened it up. There was only one paper in there.

Proving that his life had stopped before it began. Turning the overhead light over his bed on  he sat down and stared at it. The key to his life, the plug that was pulled, stared back at him as his body began to slump.

Staring at a face with no motion. A beautiful formed body with a tight-fitting dress on. Dark stains covered her breasts. Signs of struggle on the purple marks on her wrists and a worn and threaded mark making its way from side to side of her neck.

That terrible night, the night he wasn’t supposed to be there. He was so restless. He couldn’t take the silence anymore. He hadn’t spoken to anyone all weekend. He sometimes wished he worked seven days a week. At least there were faces to paint, and memories to make. He could fill his boxes.

He was going to visit the homeless shelter. Maybe he would make a friend. Perhaps someone would speak first, maybe want to grab a cup of coffee. He got dressed in the routine shelter clothes. He turned his two lights out and quietly opened the front door.

He stepped out into the dark hall. Starting to walk towards the stairs the door next to his room flew open. Gun shots went off. He disappeared into the shadows and waited for silence.

Hearing scurrying footsteps and then the reward of quiet, he stepped near the open door. He mentally photographed all that he saw and then the quick steps he heard forced him to step back and run.

He was seen. Not his face but the back of his  head. The length of his legs, the color of his coat. Yelling coming towards him. A gun shot goes off but misses him. He disappears into the stairs and scrambled out of the building.

He stares at the painting.  His body begins to shiver. He puts the paper back in the box. He places it back on the top shelf and walks to the tiny bathroom. He vomits, remembering the dark hall.

dark hall

Is it Safe or Are We Safe; Any Truth to This?


http://www.nowtheendbegins.com/

I was surfing through my Facebook as I usually do each morning. No, don’t think I am addicted to  this internet site, it actually helps me to wake up. I have to read which kick start my brain. I have to focus my eyes, which exercises my muscles.

I have to think; keeps me from getting Dementia. I have to use my muscles in my face as I laugh at so many things I see. So you understand how Facebook keeps me healthier. LOL

But, I wasn’t laughing when I came across this post. I scanned the comments and then decided to open the URL and see what the talk was really all about.

Now I am not here to debate Christianity, or religion, nor God. Anyone can see that  our world used to be a better place. It doesn’t take a genius to recognize that people are not as polite, kind and say compliments as years past.

I am a Christian and so therefore reading this scared me. Wow, Facebook can scare me and not even be hiding around the corner waiting to pounce. Now I have to be mature enough to know that some of these things are made-up to entice readers. Also, there is the political view involved here.

So, take away your thinking caps and just read. Read what ever catches your eye. What do you think? I know that there is truth in some because of my faith, but to realize that bad things are happening all around us and I am not praying hard enough scares me.

I also saw this video this morning. I asked myself, how can I move through each day, trying to pretend that life is what I make it? I can not control my life entirely. Environmental and worldly issues also play a role in  my living.

http://www.westernjournalism.com/ukraine-residents-search-bodies-gruesome-aftermath-flight-mh17/#uERikLr4Jcr2Cmcw.01

The last thing I saw on Facebook was a small video of a large shipment of unmarked military equipment. The comments made were that these were Russian. I am not sure about this. The city where the train was going through was a town in Missouri.

I was not able to place the video on here, sorry, but it is yet another thing to see and read that is about something we are not used to seeing.

I Watched With Shock. Give Me Your Thoughts


 

 

You’ve read the headlines, now watch the story about a crime so heinous some would rather see the suspect dead than in jail. The manhunt for the nation’s most wanted alleged pedophile ended Monday night as fugitive Chester Stiles, accused in the videotaped molestation of a 3-year-old girl, was arrested outside Las Vegas. Stiles had been wanted since October 5 on warrants issued for 21 felony charges in connection with acts seen on the videotape. Some of the charges include lewdness with a minor, sexual assault with a victim under 14, and attempted sexual assault. Says Bob Beckett, Nye County District Attorney, “Mr. Stiles could be facing 10 to 15 life sentences.”

 

“There are so many mothers out there who do wind up with somebody infiltrating and getting to their children, and they forever live in guilt, and that’s not right, and it’s not fair,” Dr. Phil stresses. “For all the mothers who watch and hear this, I want them to hear what I’m saying. Let me tell you, you’re the only mother they’ll ever have.”

 

Could you spot a child predator? Is your family at risk? Dr. Phil explains the warning signs to watch for ” you’ll be shocked! Plus, the reported victim’s mother breaks her silence in an exclusive interview with Dr. Phil. What does the little girl remember about the attack? Then, Stiles’ ex-girlfriend and her son talk about their conflicting accounts of Stiles’ behavior. If it’s happening now, Dr. Phil is going to talk about it now!

 

I watched the show, Dr. Phil today and it made my stomach sick that any human being could fathom the idea of molesting or raping a three-year old.

What do you believe to be the reason anyone would act in this manner?

Be Not Afraid


Ever since Al died and I left for a week, wild creatures decided to throw a party inside my house. I thought when I walked through the door how quiet it is. I was wrong but it took me a few days to notice.
I was being watched. Behind my steps followed smaller ones. I had a mouse. Well I hope it was only one. All of a sudden I was afraid. I was alone.
Now let us look closer at this picture. I think we can all agree that a mouse is short minus the length of his tail. He sure isn’ t very tall. Nothing really ugly about them. In fact they are sort of cute with the wiggly nose and their cute little ears. Then there is me. I am taller and wider than a mouse. Looking from a mouse’ s eyes, I probably look like a big giant to him.
I went out in the kitchen to get something and there he was. Sitting in front of the stove. I froze. He sat still. If we each had guns you could place us in a shoot out in an old black and white western.
I made up my mind he was out of here. Nothing that has tails and beady eyes has been invited to visit here. I bought the steel wool. I bought the bait. When the caregiver came to visit today I puwicked witcht her to work at placing all the weapons in place.
She told me a funny story about one of her children who happens to be a teen male. He was getting something out of his shed when a mouse jumped to escape and landed on him. He started running and screaming she said. I laughed and laughed realizing a guy can be just as afraid of alittle old mouse as I am. I didn’ t elaborate to my friend how fear gets the best of me. I didn’ t explain how when darkness takes over and the gobblins come out, I turn into an inspector. I look out of the corners of my eyes watching. If I need to go to the bathroom or kitchen I put shoes and socks on. I grab the near- by broom and walk like I am walking on hot coals. Each step I take I am thinking; where are you little mouse? Did you escape before we plugged the holes? Then when I finish what I came out of my room for I race for my room and jump on the bed, getting my feet off the floor. Will I sleep alone tonight? I hope so

So Much For Sleep


It was a crazy weekend for sure. For one, the silence was deafening. Thankfully, my girlfriend calls me nightly. Last night, Sunday, Al was so uncomfortable. He was in pain and no matter what I gave him, it didn’t take it completely away.

He fought a temp all weekend. Even with his fever and pain medications the fever was still there. I didn’t get to go to bed on  time. Al had every right to complain, he is the one feeling it, but boy, did I want to go to bed.

Then during the night I had been asleep about two hours when I must have had a nightmare.    http://www.nightmaresanddreams.com/

 

nightmareI heard people marching. I mean it was so loud I instantly sat up in bed. I could feel my heart racing. It felt like it was beating in my throat.

I sat frozen in spot, listening. I was first thinking is this the way Al went home? The horses or men or whoever it was had come to get Al, and yet I sat there frightened as a mouse being caught with cheese.

After a spell went by I realized I had been dreaming so I laid back down and went back to sleep. Oh, I should say I did check Al and all was alright. About a half an hour later I was woken up again. This time I was hearing bells. No, not bells like bells in my belfry, lol, but more like chime bells.

I didn’t sit up in fright as it was such a nice chime but laid there listening for more, but nothing. By the time I went back to sleep I was figuring I would get about two more hours of sleep, if I was lucky.

I woke up in time to let the shower girl in and wanted to go back to bed and die from lack of sleep but that didn’t happen either. The phone rang three times. The nurse showed up. The caregiver arrived.

I then remembered it was Monday and I had three bills to pay sitting at the computer. I made the phone calls and paid two of them. On the third one, my cell bill, the automated was messed up.

The empty person’s voice couldn’t detect the information I was putting in. So then it tried to give me a temporary pin number to proceed but of course when I punched those numbers in, it couldn’t hear me.

I was then switched to this, listen to me, a LIVE voice. Yes, a real person. I told her what happened and then she said she was so happy to help me. She asked the usual, name, address etc. Then she asked me for the kind of phone I had.

I told her what it was but she wasn’t satisfied. She wanted the serial number. I explained that my phone is generic and if I pull the back off she would disappear from the conversation.

She told me to look up my account on my bill. With a false smile I explained that I have been on contract with them for nearly two years. I told her that for the first three months of being with them I had called in and reported that I was not receiving any online statement from them.

She was frustrated that I didn’t know crap about my name of my phone and put me on hold for some time. I hadn’t had my medicine for my Diabetes yet. I was hungry. I was tired, and my pet peeve is being put on hold.

After some silence, I didn’t even get the elevator music, gees, she came back online. She verified my home address and said she would start having my bills sent snail mail. Under my breath I whispered, why didn’t you do that a year and a half ago. Wow, a few months before the contract ends, I am going to actually get a bill!

I thanked her for her help and paid my bill. When we finished our lovely conversation I looked at the time I was on the phone with her and it had been thirty-one minutes. Oh my gosh, that long? And all this was over the fact that their automated system didn’t work good today.

So here it is 1pm in the afternoon. The caregiver went to Taco Bell to get lunch and she brought me back some Tacos too. I am still in my pajamas. I haven’t washed my face nor brushed my hair, and she leaves at 3pm.

So much for my Monday. Is it Tuesday yet?