There is Beauty Here

Today, I find myself rather ill and more than a little concerned for my heart.

I have a tooth infection that abscesses. I break the abscess, wash out all the gook, hit it with mouthwash and peroxide, then I'm good for about a week. Except -

It is now in my system. I can feel it in my upper jaw, there's slight pressure in both ears, and at the base of my head. My lower sinuses keep gooping up.

Starting last week I began having periods of leg swelling. I've had this before but not for a number of years. I didn't worry about it before because I'd go to bed, the fluid would wash out of my system, and I'd get up the next day peeing like a racehorse. This time I'm worried because I've already had one bout where it did NOT clear overnight and today it's really bad, to the point my lower legs look like sausages.

I had called the VA clinic two days ago and they said they would try to get me in, only to call me back while I was sleeping and tell me I would have to make the 70-mi-one-way trip down to Sepulveda and see a dentist. The next day I was so tired I didn't bother calling them back. When I saw how bad my legs were today, I called right away in the morning, explained patiently that a 140-mile round trip wasn't necessary just to have a dentist put me on antibiotics and send me home - and besides, my legs look like sausages.

She got me an appt for 2:15. This means I won't get any sleep beforehand, but that's ok, I can sleep all I want afterward. I rather stay up and go get the drugs I need to get the swelling under control than ignore it and risk a possible heart attack because all this fluid is very hard on my heart, regardless of its original cause.
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Last night M and I talked. Even though we have to start paying our loans back in June and we aren't even moved yet, we're doing ok. We've been very conservative with the money and have managed to save a little more than we borrowed. That means we have a war chest to pay the lawyer to fight this and buy us time.

At this point, we are also seriously talking about suing Ms. Goldenring after the fact - especially with my system finally saying "enough" and going completely haywire. Hell - I even spotted a little and I haven't menstruated in nearly a year. I can feel this affecting my MS and that worries me even more because I've started having trouble walking.

I don't want to know what my blood pressure is right now.

Today I spent thinking about how things change, how they stay the same, and how I don't feel as old as I am.

As of Tuesday, I'll be 52. "52" to me is old, stodgy, prudish. I'm none of those things and I doubt I ever will be. I look at my face in the mirror and ask "How did you get this old? Why does it feel like you've missed out on so much?"

I feel like I have so much more life to live...and, as long as I am walking this earth, I plan to live it.

That is...once I get a high-and-mighty bitch off my back. I have been avoiding wrangling with the credit bureaus after finding out that nothing I paid off cleared in a month as expected. It really twists my nose out of shape that they're quick to slap a debt on there and so damned slow (if ever) to take it off.

I think "How did I get here in this situation?" There are times I regret moving out of my house in Green Bay. I could've refinanced the mortgage, paid off all of my bills, put in new windows and a new garage door, put on a roof, and had Keith re-floor the kitchen and living room for me. That house was MINE and nobody could take it away...not like now. I guess the only thing that can be said is I got taken advantage-of and the nightmare isn't over, yet.

Never, since I purchased my first house in 1986, have I faced a situation where I could be thrown out of my house. Not. Once. I've always paid my housing, above and beyond any other bill I had. I have three paid-off mortgages under my belt.

But none of that matters, now. I wanted to move out west and I'm here. I got caught in a tough situation in 2006 and ended up the victim of a predatory lender, who borrowed money to purchase this place when he already owned it. Instead of working out a deal with me, he elected to foist this place off on the person he conned the money out of, and even though she doesn't have clear title to it, she thinks she can evict me.

Security has always been a central issue for me, starting back in my teens. I wasn't so much affected by my father skipping out on us, as by my mother suddenly becoming a raging, violent alcoholic. She'd always been my anchor in chaos and when she turned on me, I lost that. Even so, I didn't start displaying PTSD symptoms till after Rhod pulled what he did on me. He came home on a Wednesday and handed me his paycheck as usual. He came home the following night and informed me he was moving out and he needed the check back so he could rent a place. Just. Like. That. I found out later it was because his girl-on-the-side refused to part her legs till he moved out on me. Then I found out even later that he'd married me because all his friends told him not to.

*thunk*

I became a hermit for the next 4 years and about the only person I saw was my friend Keith, who refused to let me remain a hermit. Of course, when I stopped being a hermit I was thrown into another bad situation, but that's another story. Let's put it this way: Nobody gets to sit me on a chair and belittle me in front of others, ever again. Nobody gets to trap me and try to force me to make a decision in their favor, ever again.

Then there was M and T. M and I had stopped any sort of physical relationship pretty much since right before I moved west, but a part of me still hoped that something would change. Then T came along, and got invited in, and got everything I'd sat and hoped-for for the past some-odd years. I was devastated. I was angry. I was jealous, and I had cause. It threw me into such a state that my online relationship suffered and then fell apart. Suddenly I was alone and didn't feel I had anyone. Again. PTSD? That's an understatement.

Yes, I came through it and yes, M and I are still companions, albeit without any physical romance. Yes, I got back together with my online beau. Things sailed along just fine until we were dumb enough to put up the Oathbreaker, who then proceeded to steal us blind.

I am still angry over the loss of my family's years-long collection of silver coins but I know I'll never see them again.

Then, just as soon as we get rid of her for good, here comes the Holier-than-Thou-Runs-Off-To-Help-Impoverished-In-Mexico. Obviously she was "taken care of" from her birth all the way through her marriage, because she doesn't have a lick of horse sense. Yes, she ran off and joined the Peace Corps in her 60s, but so what? For all intents and purposes, she did it for the prestige. She may think of herself as altruistic but that altruism ends when it comes to a low-income, disabled person right under her own nose. I tried to work with the woman but because she doesn't have clear title to this mobile home, we were advised to ignore her. Well...she got herself one of the worst lawyers in the area and decided to sue to evict me from a house she doesn't even own. When her lawyer began his harassment I was thrown into PTSD again like there's no tomorrow, until I realized that the papers he was pasting on our front door weren't worth the ink they were printed with. And yet...here I am, and I will lose this house. I could fight for it and probably win, but why? Crack in the roof lets in rain and now there's mold in M's closet. The toilet in the front bathroom was never repaired correctly, resulting in some minor floor damage and a toilet that has to be flushed with a bucket. The cheap carpeting they put on the front steps wore out within a couple of years, and has had to be cut off and prepped for painting. I could go on, but what's the point?

The only point I hoped to make is that my basic security has been an issue for me for most of my life and no matter how many antidepressants I take or counseling I get, it always will be, until I am finally, once again, in a house I can call mine that isn't going to be taken away as long as I pay the mortgage...which I will always do, faithfully.

I do miss green. I was looking at a friend's pictures from Oshkosh, WI and sighing because everything is moist and green. I sincerely wish we could move somewhere where I can have that again but chances are we're going to either stay in this park or move to the one two parks down. Still in the desert, where everything is pretty much brown. I want green. I can still remember my friend from San Diego coming to visit us in Wisconsin years ago and remarking, time and again, how green everything was.

Ah well...I'm off to play a game. Enough thinking for one night.

There's something else which came to light...

Prior to us moving in here, the Carrillo family lived here. We still occasionally get junk mail for both the husband and the wife.

If Norman "borrowed" 78K from Bette to "buy" this home - he defrauded her because he already OWNED this home. That also may prove to be a rather interesting point to kick around in court.

I hate Korporate Amerika.

Creditors are fast to report you to the credit bureaus when you owe them money, sometimes reporting you before you even have a chance to do anything about it.

They don't appear to care, however, about removing their entries once they've been paid.

A little over a month ago, thanks to my cousin Jon, I paid off a bunch of debts on my credit report. I waited the requisite month, and guess what?

Each and every one of the fucking debts are still listed as owed.

WHY is it on ME that I have to contact these credit bureaus to get these debts taken off? WHY can't the DEBTORS do their part and remove them once they get their money?

WHY IS IT YOU CAN'T DEPEND ON OTHERS TO DO THEIR PART ONCE YOU'VE DONE YOURS?

Now I have to harass three credit bureaus to get these entries taken off, and watch - they'll make me wait ANOTHER MONTH before things are clear.

*headdesk*

I haven't been talking much - to anyone. A couple of people think there's "something wrong" with me. Well, they're right, but it's not anything new.

I haven't heard back from Wells Fargo, and after all the press about them screwing mortgage customers over, I'm not so sure I want a loan from them.

I've looked at some loan papers the real estate agent sent me, but it says they expect me to put 20% down. Again, we're short on that, so I doubt they'd give me a loan.

I also need to get a hold of Homes for Heros, since it's been just over a month since I paid off all those bills.

This week, I couldn't bring myself to do any of it. I was fine until our park manager woke us both up to tell us to take care of the yard, or else. Michael blew up at her but called her later when he was calmer and explained the situation. Seems she still expects us to take care of the yard, even if we're leaving.

There is another very nice home in Tradewinds, a park closer to Rosamond proper and supposedly such a good place to live, it's hard to get a space in there.

I just feel very overwhelmed. We both do. We decided not to do anything serious until Monday.

I haven't been going into virtual worlds as much as I used to. It seems every time I do, there's someone that wants something from me, or there's some sort of drama that needs to be handled. Right now, I can't deal with much more than I already am. My friends are wondering why I'm keeping to myself - it's hard to explain to them how I feel and have them understand it, unless they've been through it.

Right now, the less people I have to talk to, the better. I feel like a raw, exposed nerve. I need to build up some scar tissue before wading in again.

I just got served with court papers that have an actual case number. However, the case is not showing up on the Kern County Superior Court website. Michael just jumped into the car to drive to Mojave to check, because their phone numbers are screwed up.

According to the papers, this case was filed on the 27th of March - and it took all this time to serve me? Again, makes no sense. Again, no word as to whether the taxes have been paid.

I knew something was coming. I couldn't get sleepy to save my life this morning.

Sometimes being an Empath and a Shaman can suck big ones.

If this guy had us served with fradulent court papers, I'll have his damned license.

This is the second time I've had to dick around with Firefox and this time I figured out it has something to do with LiveJournal.

I had to roll back to version 10 because if I try to post an entry on LJ, weird things happen to my display. I have a brand-new monitor and I'm still getting this, so it's some combination of LJ and Firefox 11. Basically it turns everything into shifting technicolor, like each pixel is shifting through every color, and freezes things up.

It's not my vid card, because this has happened only with the combination of LJ and Firefox 11.

I've taken to posting here on Dreamwidth and crossposting to LJ, instead.

I should be in bed, by now. I've been up since 5:30 this morning...but I can't stop thinking about how the majority of the human race would screw you over rather than give it a thought.

Today my ex husband Rhod said "delete your facebook profile or face legal recourse." When he initiated the divorce, I asked that he put in there that I could change back to my maiden name. Well, here we are over 5 years later and I haven't done it, yet. Any woman who has wed or otherwise had reason to change her name will tell you how much expense and downright hassle it really is.

Most of you know I'm in the midst of trying to get secure housing for Michael and I. Now is not the time to be changing my name, yet there he is, demanding that I do it. HIS name. There are over 217,000 people with the same last name, and over 1500 with the same exact name I have. Hell - there was another gal in Green Bay when I lived there that had the same exact name. Once in awhile, I'd get her mail or she'd get mine, and we'd have to forward it.

I can tell you what happened. His perky little wife, Tonya, was looking at my page and asked "Why is she using OUR last name?" Well dear, what he didn't tell you is yes, he married me first. Sorry doll, but you were #2, and I find it no coincidence at all that you look like you could be my daughter. If he told you that you were the one and only, he lied. He's good at that. Chances are excellent that isn't the only lie he's told you over the past 5 years.

He also didn't tell you that he married me on a dare. When he broached the subject of marrying me to his friends and coworkers, they all told him not to do it. Unfortunately, most of them weren't considering the damage it would do to ME if he did; no, they were thinking of his young age and "missed opportunities".

NOBODY thought of me when he went ahead and married me, leading me to think I was the happiest woman in the world. NOBODY thought of me when they later knew he was cheating on me. NOBODY thought of telling me, for my sake...nooooo. Not a one.

Then, he abandoned me, and it triggered me so badly I was a relative hermit for the next 4 years.

If it hadn't been for Keith, I wouldn't have come out of my shell, at all. Chances are good I wouldn't have budged till I started talking to Michael first on the Internet, then the phone.

Gee, the same thing happened when Amy defrauded me out of a young fortune. Everyone was "concerned" about "keeping their Warrior Oath" with that dipshit common law husband of hers. NOBODY cared about breaking THEIR oath with ME.

In other words, I've managed to pick both friends and lovers in the past who really didn't GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT MY WELFARE.

As you all know, I've been threatened with legal-this and legal-that from Olaf and the crew, so imagine how I felt when my ex "threatened legal recourse"? Well, those have become trigger words, and that's why I'm still the fuck awake when I should've been asleep hours ago. In fact, I believe I hastened my 5yo widescreen monitor's demise by the amount of anger I was radiating; I was speaking to Keith about what happened, and my monitor kept going black.

This has gotten me thinking about the sad sorry state of the human race in general - and Americans in particular.

Was Rhod paying any attention to my housing problems, some of which got posted to Facebook? HELL no. He doesn't care that much. He just cares about having to explain what must be a REALLY BIG FAT LIE to his current wife.

I bet I could "enlighten" her on a whole bunch of other things, so if Rhod has any brains at all, he'll shut his pie hole and crawl back into the booze bottle he came out of. I will change my name, WHEN I wish to, to WHATEVER I like, and I don't need a court telling me when to do it. I certainly don't need HIM telling me when to do it. If he "paid extra" to have that put into the divorce papers, then he's as dumb as a box of rocks (which I already figured out). I bet those lawyers saw him coming a mile away, and fleeced him good. I was just about to file abandonment papers on him when he so cheerfully initiated the divorce. Who was I to stop him? When I asked him if he was getting remarried, of course he lied and said no. You see, he lies when he doesn't really have to. It's a habit with him that he just can't seem to break.

I've just been doing a lot of thinking about how little most people really care about each other - even those they are married to, sired, or are relative to as an accident of birth. Things have gotten a lot worse since the collapse of the economy. Now, I will admit that hard times make people do some really bad things - but for fuck sake people, don't do it to your OWN.

I'm naturally not condemning the entire human race, but I can pretty much say that those who truly care about me are few and far between. Some of you are here. One is in the next bedroom. One is a cousin, one is a friend. One is a spiritual brother. In other words, I can pretty much count out loud just how many people truly care about me and my welfare. You see, here in America, our culture has gone all Ayn Rand - everyone out for themselves! It's like if you're not related by blood to someone, why should they give a rat's ass about you? How many people were forced out of the only homes they knew because some faceless little ant in the Anthill of Big Banks said so? Well, they're not MY relatives, so why should I care?

YOU SHOULD CARE BECAUSE 99% OF US ARE GOING DOWN TOGETHER.

Ayn Rand's philosophies work great if you're a part of the 1% but they don't work too well for those below that stratosphere of economic reality. Of course, the 1% are just waiting for the rest of us to kill each other off so they don't have to be exposed to our sweating masses if they happen to go down the street.

Um...let me enlighten you, you filthy rich, stinking selfish, asshat 1% - YOU WOULDN'T BE THERE IF IT WEREN'T FOR US 99%, YOU STUPID FUCKERS.

Some of them are finding that out now, as things stagnate or come to a full stop. Gee, well guess who used to DO those jobs? The ones you OUTSOURCED but now need? The ones you forced out because you didn't want to pay retirement benefits or medical benefits or anything that might cut into your precious bottom line.

IT WAS THE REST OF US.

It's especially bad when you see a backwoods kid who didn't even finish high school not taking the time out to see why I may not have changed my name yet before he attempted to tear me a new one for it. Just rubs it in all the more how little he truly cared about me. When I ceased being convenient, he left.

I'm not the weeping wilting person he left that Thursday so long ago. Ohhh, no. I've had MUCH WORSE visit me, and leave me all that more cynical.

Rhod, you aren't even small potatoes compared with what I've had to deal with in the last six months - nightmares I wouldn't even wish on YOU, much less anyone else. Do me a favor? Go back to your nice little life, with your nice little wife, and whatever else you have going on, and forget about me, mkay?

I have been very tired. I slept a good 12 hours yesterday from around 5:30 to 5:30AM. As Michael writes, we made an offer on the new house.

Getting "terror notes" from Olaf Landsgaard doesn't phase me any longer, since I know they're hot air till the taxes are paid. The man is making false statements like mad, and I'm sure the California Bar would like to hear all about it.

Wells Fargo is amenable to giving me a mortgage, as long as I clear my credit history. Thanks to my cousin, I've done that. Now it's just a matter of getting the information to their representative. She called me a few days ago, said she'd send me an email, and did not. I got frustrated and emailed the one contact I had, who gave me her email address. I've since sent an introductory email and am waiting on a reply.

I created a gmail account, not only because I'm concerned that not all emails are making it through AT&T, but also so I have one central place for all housing-related emails.

Now it's a matter of waiting. Waiting for receipts to arrive in the snail mail. Waiting for the rep to answer my email. Waiting.

A good friend of ours is fronting us the money to cover the tax liens, since they seem to be the sticking point, and those will be paid shortly after we receive the money. Then let's see Olaf, Norman, and Bette try to force me out before I'm ready. It'll take them a good two months, and by that time, I'll be moved.

Our lawyer is up to his eyeballs in alligators with a jury trial but we've done our best to keep him informed. About all we'll need from him is a letter to Buenaventura officially turning the house over to them, when the time comes.

Thank you all for your donations, your thoughts, and your good energies flowing our way. I cannot express how grateful I am.