Death

It welcomes us all at some point.  I have been kicking this post around for almost a month now.  Wait!  I know I have become quite laggy at posts but this one I seriously had to wait on.

Michelle, I just got your advent.  I am glad you got my post cards.

Will, I had a great time visiting you and the Mrs'.

Yu, thanks for showing us around Tokyo.  It was a blast.

Cameron, Yuan and Katherine.... I hope to catch you on one of my travels or one of yours.

Before I delve into my trip to South Korea and Japan (future posts... fo'real).  I do have one thing to say:  My aunt passed. Some people may be thinking, oh her aunt that's sad.  It is sad especially since my aunt raised me from infancy through my teen years.  She was the one to rush me to the hospital when I had a seizure.  She was the one that got called to the principal's office when I was bad.  She was my mom away from my real mom.

Commuting

School's out for summer.  Which means two things, lots of work to do.  And no students or staff on campus.  With the exception of a few people that work through summer or are working summer school, the school is MINE. 

Before school let out, I asked the principal if I could use the shower in the Girl's PE office in the morning.  She said no problem!

This is good for me because I want to see if I can couple my training with a commute to work.  Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday my training dictates 4-6 mile runs.  The high school is just a tad over 3 miles away.  So if I plan my route properly I can run to work instead of training on the treadmill.

I would have to walk home or plan for public transportation.  I started this week and getting to work is the easy part.  Getting home, I have only managed to walk home once.  Yesterday my co-worker drove me home. 

In an effort to kill as many birds with one stone as I can.  I also joined a fitness challenge that runs through the middle of July.  Click here if you are interested in my goal to make money for the local humane society.  All of this is fine and dandy but I think I may be a little under prepared for my commute.

I leave the house when it is still dark.  I have blinking arm bands that I use so I can be visible to others.  And I ran down a route that I have walked on numerous times; but only in daylight hours.  During dark time there were a few areas that I felt a little uncomfortable running through.  So I modified my route.

The modified route is highly traveled by vehicles and brightly lit.  My biggest complaint is the driveways making my ankle twist, though only slightly, repeatedly because the tarmac is was not wide enough to share with vehicles.  I don't need to create a repetitive motion injury situation while I am trying to train. 

So I need to reassess my route a little more.  I have found a route that looks a bit more approachable in terms of avoiding a sports injury... but I may incur a different type of injury.  I have turned to a few running blogs and a few suggestions have been made to fend off an attacker: pepper spray/mace, knife and gun.

Pepper spray sounds like a good option.  In theory it sounds good to me.  Aim, spray and run like the wind!  But that means the attacker will most likely get away to have his try at another victim at a later date.  Or potentially me again!  Ugh the thought gives me the heebie jeebies!  I would most likely go for a gel formula so I don't have issues with wind blowback.  And maybe a UV reactive one, just in case I am able to get to safety and can call the cops.

I have the right to bear arms but I kinda don't want to.  I would be a shitty gun owner... cleaning and maintenance and such.  Ugh, I have a tedious time of keeping my car in proper working order and I use that often.  So I don't want to have to deal with the maintenance, weight while running, chafing from a holster or killing someone. 

Maiming on the other hand I guess I am okay with that.  But I am petite and knife may incur the wrath of an attacker and used against me.  Also there is always the old adage: don't bring a knife to a gun fight.

I've read that the knife/spray combo is best.  You spray, stab, run away and live to tell the tale.  Then you can call the cops and let them know the person glows under black light and may seek medical attention.  It's all a bit nerve wracking to think about all of this.  But I think if I have the proper shoes to avoid injuring my self, the proper attire to keep me visible to others... I need something to protect myself in case of attempted rape/murder.

Any suggestions?

Tomorrow is my birthday, I think I may have to at the very least gift myself some pepper spray.... so I can live to my next one.

Friday Fuckin' Sucks

Today started off on the wrong foot.  Or rather it started off without footwear.  My shoes were stolen while I showered at the gym.  I was getting dressed after my workout when I noticed my shoes were missing.

These were a pair of shoes my pop-in-law got me for X-Mas.  Gone.  At 4:30 am, there were only 5 older ladies at the gym.  Klepto grandma strikes again?  I dunno, I had to walk out of the joint barefoot, drive home and call the mister to bring me out a pair to wear to work.  I should have taken this as a sign of the type of day I was to have.

Die-uh-bee-tus

Diabetes sucks, runs in the family but from what I gather it can happen to anyone if they let their weight climb above what is normal.  Let me clarify, I am talking Type 2 Diabetes.  My grandmother lived a long life for someone who had Type 2.  Though, she did succumb to complications of diabetes (coupled with the incompetence of the hospital she was at).  My grandmother ended up in an out of the hospital for about two weeks before they finally amputated her leg.  Her old, frail body just didn't bounce back so well after the surgery and she passed away.

I don't want to go out suffering like that and I don't want any other relatives to suffer the same fate.  My mom and sister are right on the border edge of Type 2 if they don't watch their diet and health; they will end up with diabetes.  But my uncle who is more like a brother than an uncle has had Type 2 for some time now.  Though it's sad to say, I have always known in the back of my mind he would probably be the first to go out of my grandmother's children from natural causes.  Diabetes is a bitch and you gotta stay on top of your diet and medications to control it.

My uncle is still just a big kid.

Enrichment, it's a necessity of life. (Part 2)

This is a continuation to part 1, I have been on holiday and busy with life so I am a tad behind.  Not to fear, Hawaii story time will be on it's way soon enough.

At one point I even took Andy with me to have breakfast and just chat.  I tried to explain things that are important to me.  I tried to find out what is important to him and how we can function more smoothly as a family unit.  I think I bored him to death but at least he enjoyed his pancakes that were drowned in syrup.  Maybe the breakfast and chat was more for me but I am hoping he listened not just heard some of what I had to say.  I am also trying to be receptive to what he has to say but it's so hard when he is obviously lying.  He isn't very good at lying either, he should just give up and come clean about stuff.  During our breakfast I asked him if he wanted to carve pumpkins for Halloween.  Guess what he said, go on, guess.....

Foot in mouth disease, I have it.

"Because I am hard, you will not like me.  But the more you hate me, the more you will learn.  I am hard but I am fair." - Gunnery Sergeant Hartman

I looked back in my posts to see if I had written the story of how my father gave me away as an infant. But I couldn't find the story.  Suffice to say when I was a baby my father, who was kind enough to pass on his legacy of lunacy sprinkled evenly among his fine children, gave me away to my grandmother.  Story goes, my father threatened to steal me away to Mexico but my mom wouldn't have it.  And then the details are a little blurry.  My mother stayed with my father and agreed to give me up to live with my grandmother.  Something about a suicide threat from my father bla, bla, bla.  My grandmother's youngest child at the time was just about to graduate high school.  So she was young enough to take on a baby in the house.  With the help of my aunt and uncles I was raised in my grandmother's house.

In my about I talk about my gramps suffering from Michael J. Fox disease with a little extra dose of Alzheimer's.  My aunt ended up having to quit her job to help care for me and my grandfather whose health deteriorated at a rapid rate.  When my aunt stopped working she pretty much became my, "Sir! Yes, sir!" or as I affectionately called her, "Mommy-tia."  She was hard on me because I needed to learn.  She was hard on me because I was difficult.  She was hard on me because I had to grow up and function as a normal member of society.  Though now I thank her stern, rigid way of disciplining me.  I also know that some of my hang-ups and hiccups in personality probably stem from abandonment issues and authoritarian parenting by my guardian.  Pile some of that on top of some of the traits my dad left behind, which if diagnosed would land him in a category close to my own.  If not the same category I was diagnosed as when I was still too young and angry to make use of my therapy.

Unfounded Allegations

If the last episode of Reluctant Motherhood wasn't enough to make me want to run for the hills screaming, it's gotten even better.  Or is it worse?  We got a phone call from Child Welfare Services because we have been reported for domestic violence and drug abuse.  The only abuse going on is my poor, frail mind having to assist in rearing a child that is not mine and not right.  Maybe CWS can take me away.  Whoever reported these lies is more than welcome to take Andy home and tell me if they survive, sanity in tact, after 2 weeks.  No, even one week with him.

So the day we got the call advising us to come down and answer some questions at the CWS office, they had already interviewed Andy at school.  And at first I was worried about having CWS poking about our business.  And then I got curious as to who would possibly make such wild allegations!  And then it was mild amusement that some busy body had nothing better to do than make up stories about two people trying their best to raise a mini-tyrant.  Bring it, we have nothing to hide and are not doing a damn thing wrong.  Investigate away!

Bad things happen to good people.

I was a lazy shit this week.  I didn't run since last week, not once, until today.  My sister, who doesn't run, decided to come run along with me.  She had her best mile time in, well, since ever!  I had a nice shower and said my goodbyes to my mister and his son.  Went on my way to a Pampered Chef Party... I promised I would.  So off I went to have my shower; so my sister could take me with, to her house and then have her shower too.  The plan was we could go to the party from her house after her shower.

I waited at her house while I had a nice long chat with her room mate.  This is her first year teaching and she has a bit of a tough student.  Andy's teacher is also in her first year, having a tough student being none other than Andy.  After my sister had her shower we headed over to the glorified Tupperware Party.  By this time (11.30) I was famished.  A 5k run, only a smoothy in my belly; I was looking forward to the snacks these parties provide.  I was considering what to pile onto my second cake-slice sized plate of food when I heard my phone ring.

Fuck EBT and the horse it rode in on!

So it's now be over a week as step-mother to a 9 year-old boy.  Upon his arrival, armed with McNuggets, he voiced his love for them.  The following day, he microwaved what he had left of said McNasties and ate them.  For lunch that day he had instant ramen noodles with a slice of processed cheese.  He said he loved the stuff!  We took a trip to the grocery store which I managed to somehow survive without breaking a glass bottle of wine open and drowning my face in it.  While heading home I asked Andy, the step-kid, "What's your favorite food?"  And he quickly replied, "7-11."

Health Screenings

Aside from the work enforced piss and TB test, I haven't really had one.  Not from my job and not on my own accord.  Ignorance is bliss?

A few weeks ago work promised me a cool 20 bucks for a health screening.  All I had to do was give them 15 minutes of my time and a drop of blood.  20 bucks you say?  In the fine words of Homer J. Simpson, "Mmmm beer," so I figured what the hell!  Let's do it.

The Other Woman

Nah I didn't go wrecking houses.  But I did happen to land on this movie sort of at the right time.  IF there is such a thing as the right time.

Getting married at my ripe old age of; in my 30's, hasn't really taught me any more than I already knew .  By my age, unless I marry a tot out of high school, my partner will have already partnered before (several times).  Sometimes these partnerings (I am making up words, leave me alone!) tread into that murky water I call, procreation.

I volunteered not to participate in the enriching, diluting or anything having to do with gene pools.  One of me is more than enough (mom has thanked me, no joke).  People pee in pools, I would like to stay out of them.  

I back-peddaled in my personal plan not to partner with a parent.  Shit happens, the dating world gets much smaller as you get older!  Whatever; making excuses for myself I suppose.  I still remain happily married... now I am just happily married with a 10 year old on his way. 

I have to play step-mom.  For how long?  I dunno, I THINK just for the summer.  But then again (see paragraph above) we have seen how far my thinking has gotten me.  No excuses, I should have planned from day one.  This could happen at any time... and that time is now.

I think I have to do right by society and the parents.  I think I need to find some guidelines to post on fridge next to the sign that says:

 

And hopefully I won't end up in the dog house by the parents for being stupid.  Or as part of the long list of Wicked Step-mothers!  My biggest fear is failure... and failing at raising kids can be pretty disastrous (or interesting if good biographies are written). 

I suppose I should get back to apartment hunting... the only door inside my current place is one to the bathroom.  I think I need (the step-son probably will too) more privacy than that. 

Now where did I stash that bottle of wine I was looking for???