I’m Baaaaaaaaaak

I’ve returned from my trip to Maine.  It was wonderful except getting in!  Somehow I took a look North of Boston and got off the throughway and got completely lost.  I was on another throughway (I think that is all Massatutti has).  I went into a little store and asked how to get to Maine because the map book I had was only of Maine.  The Gentleman at the counter said that if I would give him $40.00 he would tell me.  Well, basically, I told him nicely (not so nicely? what he could do with his own $40.00. and continued on my way.

New Hampshire has no sales tax so there are huge liquor stores along the throughways.  I would stop and call some one at one, get directions, and end up at the one on the other side of the throughway (after paying my toll of course).  I would ask the toll booth person who would point on and end up back at the first store.  I would do that again.  After four times I bought a small bottle of Jim Beam to celebrate if I ever got of that state.  Finally, Paul was able to give me directions on how to get back on 95.

As for tolls!  There were three in Maine.  One was for $3.00 and the other two were $2.50, $1.00 each time I entered New Hampster, a larger one for the Massatuttie pike and an even larger one for NY.

As I went over the bridge to Maine, I got to the first rest stop and hugged the nearest pine tree.  After 7-8 hours of driving, I was a real tree hugger.  I went into the octagonal (naturally) building and did my thing, came out and couldn’t find Sam and the car.  I walked all the way around the building and still couldn’t find it.  After hyperventilating again, I realized that there was a parking lot over a berm with pine trees on it.  Whew.  By then Sam had hyperventilated, too!

On to 90.  It felt like the hills and trees and rocks were hugging me.  Things have been busy since we left Maine.  In Massatuttie it looked like they were doing fracking all along the pike.  In Maine, the towns are growing; especially Auburn, Lewiston and Augusta and they had a few more extensions on 95 so where we used to get off looked totally different and where I was to get off was also totally different.  However, off we go and BINGO, there was my hotel!  However, the problem was to find the entrance.  Lots of back doors and a restaurant (that had dynamite chicken and spinach soup – in fact I gave a tablespoon to Sam and for the rest of the trip he would look at me when I put down his food as if saying “not on your life”).  Finally found the entrance, my unit, unloaded the car while Sam cried in the bathroom, sat down and called who I needed to call and had a shot of Jim Beam in water.  I even had a gas fireplace for ambiance.  I was settled at about 9:00 p.m.?  Actually I can’t remember.

Because of my mental illness (just kidding relatives) I can’t abide thinking of  bed bugs but didn’t have to worry because I grabbed the blankie and pillow that I had carried and flopped over sideways and crashed after eating the best soup in the world.  Sam guarded me.  He could have told me there was a monster approaching and I would never have heard him.  10 hours on the road is way too much!  However, I did remember the wakeup call and at 7:00 a.m. got up, got ready to see a house at 10:00 a.m, and got very explicit instructions from my girlfriend on how to get there.  After getting lost three time because I was on the wrong side of the river and with 0 minutes to spare I finally found her.  My friend!  A hug!  I was in heaven!

Quick rush to the house because we were late.  A little ramshackle.  Teeny weeny but a yard with lots of potential.  Actually the bedroom was as big as my spare with a closet, the living room will fit my desk and computer with a closet and the kitchen was large but really needs an island because it only had two drawers.  Of course, I can’t cook anyway…  The Property Manager THOUGHT the washer and dryer worked.  Nice even having them at that price.  I was worried about the “partially” finished cellar but I think they meant that because it was so short.  I was the only one that could walk around without ducking and hitting the beams.  And it had a “Wizard of Oz” door to the outside if there was a hurricane.  It needs some work and I asked if I could have laminate instead of carpeting (as long as they were replacing it anyway).  I have lots of hardware to replace the kitchen knobs and I didn’t want to go anywhere else so I said I wanted it.

Now we get to the tricky part.  I said only one person and two dogs were going to live there but of course had to put my husband’s income down.  My Social security would cover it but I might want to eat also.  The trouble:  They do a background check.  Front and center is my recent incarceration in the psyche ward.  So we will see how much that ruined my life.  I told them I had no family but was actually able to come up with one reference.  Paul, of course has family but is anti-social so when I brought the application home, had a bit of a hard time to think of a reference.  I told them I wanted it the first of November.  Oh, it also has a garage almost on the next block!

My friend and I went to eat at a diner that she used to work at and I met two more friends and while sitting there listening to the TV  blaring, I noticed that they were talking about a storm coming from home to there.  So, kissed her goodbye, went back to the hotel, took a long nap, packed and was out of there by 8:00 p.m.  It rained across the Berkshires but the traffic was goo except for the truckers (who were all good except for the one who tried to kill me) and Sam and I were home at 6:00 this morning and I’m wondering where the storm is.

Back to bed and woken up with a call from the Wayne Behavior Health asking why I missed my appointment yesterday.  I’m ready to call an attorney.  I cannot live this way.  I feel so violated.  Paul filled out his application for the house and I’m about ready to take another nap.  I’ve gone through my email and just don’t feel like answering any of the Facebook messages because here we go with no feelings again.  They have to approve me for the house!  What if they don’t?  What if I am stuck in this situation for the rest of my life all because of someone else?  My whole life has been controlled by someone and even though it is scary being by myself I just want to try it once, please.

I didn’t take the Hoosier from you.  You are angry because Dad gave it to me because he had not place to put it.  Even if I asked for a camp – so what?  all my three sisters were given one.  You say I borrowed 20K and didn’t pay it back…you gave that to me because it would save you taxes and said my sisters would get the same.  I will not say anything about the prudential accounts that Dad set up for us.  I have said I don’t want your money. I want your love.

I get notes from my family that is is SO hurt about putting this stuff on my blog and that is why they are angry at me.  Wrong, because they were so angry at me all my life way before I put this stuff on the blog.  People don’t talk to me  that I used to play with and helped them when needed and thought of them as brothers.  It is true that there may be some that don’t want me to put things on here but come one guys – you did it!  You hurt someone.  It is time to pay the piper.

My main personality trait is that I do not, nor can I, abide liars and procrastinators and they stand there and call me one when all I need is an apology.  I have been a scapegoat all my life.  I’m done.  The end.  Just because they give a different face to outsiders does not mean that was the face given to the family.  So fess up.  I’m not sure if they just can’t face it themselves or if they don’t want others to know.  Others don’t have to know.  Just apologize to me.  You won.  I’m going again.  I cannot take anymore private notes telling me how I’m hurting everyone and calling me a liar.  I cannot take any more people pretending to be me and calling the Wayne Health Substance Abuse.  I’m leaving.  I’m gone.

So tell me about hurt.

Keep on Goin’

I’ve decided to keep on going with my blogs because I will probably never get this many readers again.  Besides, my choices are going to the dentist or just sitting around worrying about things.

Many people have asked me how to read the comments that I receive on the blogs.  Just click the word “comments” on the bottom of each blog.  However, I warn you, some are not nice.  But, if you don’t like me then you will just laugh your head off and have a good time.  However I do like comments and knowing that you are reading my work.  So please continue.

Today was Dentist day,  yesterday Very Far Away Therapist Day, Friday was Hospital Therapist day and Eye Day, Wednesday Near Therapist Day, the 1st was Neurologist Day, the 3rd was Attorney day and Veterinarian Day, and the 25th My Husband’s Therapist Day.  Good Grief, what is wrong with this picture?  Of course there are a few days in there because I’m trying to forget them.  And, whoopee, I don’t think there are any days in next week!  Couldn’t all physical and mental doctors join forces so that we don’t have so many wars that have to do with gas?

However, I am waiting for three important calls from Maine so that I can boogie on up there to look for an apartment because I am beginning to feel a little cramped here and I’m sure my “family” will be much relieved when I go.  My Far Away Therapist says I really don’t have to sneak away and can drive by myself but if you find me missing……

Again, thank you so much to my friends (imaginary or not) for their support while I was being attacked by the wolves.  I kept thinking about those National Geographic films where when there is a weak animal in the herd that that is where the wolves charge to.  Yikes!  I just found out that my Brother-in-Law is very ill and I pray that this doesn’t happen to him.  When he and I were young I was so jealous of my oldest Sister because I KNEW he was for me!  Wrong again.

Believe it or not, it is a very sunny day today and each day I’m feeling better.  I only hope that each day I can treat my friends a little better because I have been a little cranky lately but one of the therapists (which one?) said that it was probably Posttraumatic Stress.  I should go look that up since I am a baby boomer and quite a few men that I went to school with came back from Nam with that disorder and maybe I would understand them better.

There once was a lady incarcerated;

Who when she got home she changed her bed;

She felt better scrunched up;

Warm milk in her cup;

And a warm Santa Claus cap on her head.

and….

Noodles (as I explained to a friend in Los Angeles,  “Noodles”  is a word substituted for “good bye” because I don’t like “good bye” at all)

Oh My

Please everyone; take a deap (ha, ha, I like that spelling. I must have been thinking of Johnny Dep). Let’s start over; take a deep breath, relax and then exhale toward Wolcott New York because I am about to go insane. My worry stone has imprints in it from rubbing it so much, I’m out of Lorazipam and now have even MORE wrinkles on my forehead. Too much is happening too fast and of course with me there is always a wee little glitch in everything. Not too bad this time but always a wee glitch.
As I’ve told you, there are probably about 7 towns in this county but it is amazing how roads compare from location to location. I grew up here and lived here until around 21 and I would say that I knew where all the towns were and how to get to them and even what shortcuts. They were all two-lane highways, mostly countryside. All were pretty much straight and perpendicular to each other. So I moved to Los Angeles and refused to drive. I’m sure you have seen on television what the highways are like. Once you are in a lane, you stay in that lane and you move at about 75 miles per hour. Too bad if you get a flat tire. Actually, Los Angeles is a bit like Boston.

So I move to Maine and it takes a few years to not get lost all the time. You get used to the fact that the roads are arcs and circles going around rocks and trees and up and down hills and that everyone drives in the middle of the road because for some reason the roads are made with a hill in the middle (to have the water run off?) but people travel pretty much at a reasonable speed. Just watch out for turkeys and cows crossing the road.
Then I move back to the exact same place I started out from. Same roads. Same towns. Same countryside with straight and perpendicular roads only now everyone is is a BIG hurry. And, I keep getting lost! Trees are larger or missing completely. New houses have been built, old ones painted, curves straightened out. Point is you plan a time limit to get somewhere and are always late! I know where I am but I don’t know how to get there! You get halfway there and you wonder how the heck you got to that place and why you are going in that direction. So, guess who was late for jury duty (all though, just in time to have my name called to be interviewed). Then I ask to affirm rather than swear and they start asking all these questions that don’t make any sense. And, you have to tell all this personal information and everyone can hear it. Jeeze, even my Dentist was there! The limit was when the attorney stated “now remember, this trial is just for rape, not forcible rape. We are not judging if the rape was forced”. I wait for one of the pod people in the courtroom to say something. Not a thing! So I say “excuse me but how could you consider it rape if it wasn’t forced?” All hell breaks loose, everyone in the courtroom starts laughing and rolling on the floor. When things calm down the Judge tells me that I am not to ask the attorney questions, I am to ask the Judge questions. Anyway, I wasn’t chosen so that’s over with.
Then at 7:30 is the Town Supervisors Meeting. Another Lorazipam. Big mistake because it was a very, very long boring meeting mostly about hiring someone to cut the weeds in the bay this summer, buying a new truck and which account to take the money out for each. Finally, at the end it was the unanimous decision to hire me as the Town Historian. HOORAY!!!!! And, to make it even better, I’ll make $.69 per hour!!! I was elated but didn’t have a hard time going to sleep.
This morning first thing I had to go into the town hall with my social security card and my driver’s license. Driver’s license – no problem but the last time I saw my SS card was years ago when Paul’s bank that employed him was purchased by a company in India and there was a chance that he would have to go over there for a couple of weeks and I was darned if I wasn’t going over with him. So I got the SS cards, the Birth Certificates (which took a few weeks for me because I was born at a Military Base) and the questionnaires together, clipped them and put them on his desk for when he had a chance to go with me to get our pictures for our passports. Of course, Paul didn’t even remember India much less where the folder was. Now, his office and the upstairs bathroom which are his are not entered by me unless there is an emergency. He puts his dirty clothes in a basket by the door, I plug my nose, reach in to get them and quickly close the door and that’s it. So, no SS card. I took the piece of paper that your SS card is ripped from and my letter from the SS with what I will be getting which luckily had my number on it into the town hall and they took it. For now. And that doesn’t help with our birth certificates.
Then since my Mother had a stint inserted last week I went over to see her for a while and my whole day is shot.
I have homework to do on a web course that I am taking that is due soon.
Saturday my daughter is taking us to dinner for our anniversary and we are going shopping.
Sunday I’m going with a friend to see Hamlet.
Next Sunday is a Handling Seminar that is about 3 hours away.
Remember that this is an Agraphobic speaking that never leaves the house. SEND CALM PLEASE!!!