No Charity for YOU, Loser

I want to write about so many things, but am always distracted by the NOW, which usually involves our diminishing funds and all the things that need to be done. And the constant worry how Trump will take more away before we vote him out, since impeachment went nowhere.

I am looking at you, Moscow Mitch. The Russians have already started “interfering” their way, and securing what election “help” they can give Porky. I mean Putin’s Puppet. Watching Democracy die is not something I expected in my lifetime. Then again, I never expected that narcissistic bitch to be President. I never expected a white supremacist to become the leader of this Country.

Wish to God I’d stayed in Norway, because any time we vote in a Republican President, that party doesn’t care about the deficits THEY CAUSE.  And taxes, such as FICA or Medicare becomes “entitlements” all of a sudden. How is a tax a future benefit? If the government uses it as the local piggy bank for their big tax cuts to the rich, sure, whatever you say.

I was getting $25 a month in food stamps. I now get $16. Nothing has changed. Except Trump has cut back food aid, especially to the kids in school. The changes he has proposed (and broken some campaign promises) can be found at Trumps cuts.  It is part of Trump’s and the Republicans, War on Poverty.

I can feel it’s impact now. A Housing Voucher seems even less likely in the future with Trump’s plans for my “ilk”. News flash Pudgy, we are citizens too, and part of the voting public. But being in California, we have a huge site on our State, and the Speaker of the House is on his least favorite list, along with what he believes rhymes with Shit. You’re still Glue, Donny.

Changes to SSI would affect Will. He is still waiting in his hearing. He has chronic back issues that will hopefully be solved with spinal surgery, but who knows? He is getting worse as each day goes by, and being a recovering alcoholic doesn’t help. How do you recover when you’re in pain 24/7/365? Sleeping in a car? And your family is who made you homeless?

I had a stroke. I have a traumatic brain injury now. I have PTSD from a lifetime of abuse from my adopted mother (not my opinion, a psychiatrist (2 actually), a psychologist (3 actually) and a medical doctor (a good woman AND a mother herself) over 15 years of receiving therapy – but HER family denies it and accuses me of abusing HER.  Had to be here to see it – ANY of it. And they did, they just ignored it and explained it away.

I lived with a narcissist. Do you think I would want my President to be one? Hell NO.

But this is about needing charity.  And why I am asking and have received little or sporadically or none.

I don’t envy you a vacation. You deserve one.

You have kids and they are your priority. I get that. Wish I had your problem. I really do.

You have your list of priorities. I get that too. I have one of those lists. I doubt they are similar, except for something with the car, or the dog needs shots, or Costco has this awesome deal on a new chair for the family room and we need that!

My list has a home for us.  A new place to store and enjoy my stuff.  A wish. Not something I can pick up at Costco.

My car has a endless LIST of things that need to be fixed/repaired/solved. I have no money for any of the things on that list.

Andy is on that list, and his Vet bill from late last month. And to have him on a regular schedule with decent food that he will eat. Picky little pooch. Grr.

Enough extra money this month so that we can sleep in a motel for a few days and I can get a haircut when part of my scalp is shaved and the tumors are removed and I will have stitches.  And I pray they are not cancerous. I will just give up and die then. It’s been too much for too long.

Not to speak of the eye surgery I need as the vision is almost gone in my left eye due to the Retinopathy. Problem with Insurance in the County and I had to postpone. Again.

Will has not had to have cancer treatment for his prostate cancer, but the doctor is still trying to isolate it and provide the best treatment options, as she is not recommending surgery.

So much to worry over and so few hours to do it with a laptop.

http://www.gofundme.com/f/wag-willandygrace

 

Happy Holidays for Some

It is Black Friday and absolutely nuts here. There are Prime Outlets within 5 miles of my current location, and people are meeting up at Starbucks before they head out. Geez. Spending money is a group activity? Who knew! SMH

We are not spending money, because we have none until Social Security comes through or Will’s General Assistance. No Christmas Tree, little Christmas Cheer. Freezing to death, but my $10 sleeping bag has been handy as all out. It was 34F this morning with ice on the car. Reminiscent of my trips to Idaho during Thanksgiving. I miss those trips and the people I shared my holiday with. And when my 120 lbs of fur babies were still alive.

The shopping gluttony is  mind-boggling.  I stopped trying to understand it years ago, because I was guilty of it too when Dad was still alive. Put yourself into debt until March or April with the plastic was typical. I stopped when he died. It’ll be 20 years soon. Christmas is difficult for me as he was sick and I didn’t do anything. Gunn was in control by then and took “care” of him. That haunts me. How she complained that she had no one to take care of her as she had done to him. She gets me fired from my job, I physically move to her house to “take care of her” and she can’t stop bitching how much I suck at it and I’m inconveniencing her because I have the audacity to live in her house. Why can’t I move in next door? Buy a house and work close by? BECAUSE YOU CALL ME EVERY 10 MINUTES WHEN I AM NOT IN YOUR VISUAL RANGE!! Ungrateful bitch.

So much for honoring my adopted parents. I promised Dad I would take care of her. Pity there wasn’t a stipulation on her trying to kill us, or succeeding at it. It just took years, and her throwing out my meds, for me to accept what she had done to you Papa. I just couldn’t accept that her malignant narcissism and her belief in her medical knowledge would go so far as to put our lives in danger.

I will reconstruct a dialog that happened when I was 12:

Gunn: She doesn’t need glasses. No one in my family needs them. She eats carrots.

Optometrist: Carrots won’t improve her vision. She has steep corneas and is very near-sighted.

Gunn: She spends too much time reading and doing needlework. She is ruining her eyes! 

Optometrist: She is a student and reading is very good at here age. She will do good in school!

Gunn: She is not getting glasses! You are wrong!

We exit (angrily stomp) out to the car and I tell Dad.

Me: Dad! Mom won’t let me get glasses!

Dad: What? The doctor said your vision is bad and your legally blind! Gunn! What are you up to?

Gunn: She doesn’t need glasses. No one in my family wears them! She needs to stop reading so much and do all the those crafts! Her eyes would be fine. And I feed her carrots every day!

Dad: I’ll take her to get what she needs! And you wear glasses but you don’t want too because you’re so vane! You’re not going to put your issues on our daughter!

And Dad and I went back in and I picked out a pair of glasses I could live with. Gunn would harangue me about the reading and knitting and needlework – unless it was something I was making for them – for the rest of my life, but my contact lenses helped. She’d start in on me when I was wearing my glasses. And she stabbed me with my embroidery scissors when her shows weren’t on TV, but that’s a tale for another time. h

A day in the life with Gunn. I thank the Lord every day that she is gone from my life. I return her ashes to her family and my last connection with her is gone. One more thing  on my list when I have money again. Dad’s ashes have to go home to. To be with his parents and siblings in his home town. The honor she refused him because she hated his family so much. I didn’t know how much until he died and realized how much of his “history” she had thrown out. At least I had taken his ships and maritime logs years before. And his pictures. If I hadn’t taken those decades before, Gunn would have tossed them.  The medals and awards she kept. She could use them to promote their wonderful marriage. The awards and medals preceded you, hag. You had no part in Dad’s service, but you took all that you could get, including his military pension.

As a reminder for the holidays, https://www.gofundme.com/f/life4wng20?teamInvite=zwFy5EWAGSludrnkCZ9nBW6TpHJfA8I5YvaDJ67Bhi8fNwXnHH6M2OYJcXZSgemz

Please consider our plight. God Bless you.

 

 

The Realities of Homelessness

The daily mental battle

Sleeping on a flat surface and stretched out.

Taking a shower without someone yelling “HURRY UP!!!” Just being able to take one every 3 or 4 days, not every 7+ days. The record is 15, I think. Warm water and soap to remove the stench and dirt and letting you feel “Normal”. Washing your hair!!! When it’s been up in a ponytail for better than a week and when you take out the rubber band – IT DOES NOT MOVE. Not a single hair. It is that oily! And know I am susceptible to yeast infections in my fat fold, aka lap fat. Oh, for a flat tummy! Oh, to be 60 lbs lighter! Oh, to not have the stroke issues! Oh, all the shit which I really want to go away!! The yeast infections are due to the “plastic” in the diapers and heat and sweat trapped in unbreathable and confined space. I was able to wear cotton undies for a few days with leakage pads. The infection cleared up. Hell, the last time when it was really bad (August), Dr. C. had to lance and drain a boil. Eeeeww! Yuck! I had to keep draining until the cream dried it out! You never want to experience that, especially so close to your private parts,

Getting up at 3am and being able to go to a bathroom and sit on a toilet without having to drive to a Safeway and hopefully not commit to the “walk of shame” or drop a load in my diaper. I now carry adult diapers. I can’t justify any vanity on my part. Oh, Gunn would be scandalized! “But, Venke! Vhat will people tink of you! How embarassing!” Shut up, bitch. I wouldn’t be here if not for you. Her voice comes back too often. It is what it is and I’ll just have to take 600 mg a day of Neurotin to insure the nerves down south are in communication with Central Command. And that will be undergoing reconstruction for years. I have a bathroom purse. It’s nice and made from “vegan” leather. OK. There is some vanity and not wanting to advertise “homeless and poor and peeing on myself”.

Typing and “storytelling” is part of my therapy. Who’da thunk that!

They’re playing Christmas Music at Starbucks. Eek. From 40’s Big Band to Rap. *Shudder*

Being able to go to the kitchen that has a refrigerator, a stove and cook top, and maybe a microwave (let’s not forget cutlery and eating vessels and tumblers), to prepare a warm meal or have a piece of toast when under the weather or just a glass of milk. Heat a bowl of chicken noodle soup! Or a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Make a box of Kraft Mac and Cheese. A grilled cheese sandwich on sliced sourdough with Tomato Bisque from Trader Joe’s. A breaded and thick cut pork chop with baked apples. A chicken breast with sauted asparagus. A homemade Cobb Salad or Chopped Broccoli from Costco, A PB&J with something other than Concord Grape Jelly and on 10-grain Wheat, not that cheap wheat bread that has zero nutrition and is worse for you then Wonder Bread. Fresh Wonder Bread……yummmmm. Addicted to that as a child. Gunn did me no favors. She sure didn’t teach me nutrition, encourage exercise or chase me out the door to play with neighbor kids. Brownie’s offered too many camping trips with a parent participating. Good God NO! “Ve don’t do dat in Norway!” No. families go hiking and fishing and sleep in…..sleeping bags? That’s the rumor.

I’ll be back soon. I’m off to Speech and Cognitive Therapy!

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A Quick Post

Will is at Storage with Andy – getting my diapers since I used the last one this morning. I’m at Starbucks just having updated my GoFundMe campaign.  And just trying to provide some current context, which I will do here as well.

  1. Will is SOBER!
  2. His day of sobriety is October 12, 2019. He had his last drink (fucking bottle, or Handle, or 1.5L of vodka every 36 hours) on 10/11/19.
  3. He is Clear and Vibrant and hooked on Starbucks Nitro which is making him a very talkative chipmunk!
  4. His memory is so much better and he is the one DRIVING! I let him take over the wheel and I am enjoying being the passenger once more. It’s been since 2012 except the handful of times a was I with someone. Literally – no one since 2016 and that was Amanda. Less than a dozen times since then. Maybe half a dozen. He’s my driver! Hehe He even jokes he’s driving Miss Gracie. Andy is enjoying the way it used to be. Daddy is supposed to be in the drivers seat. Rawroo!
  5. I have started writing my “book”. I had too. There is so much pent up inside me with no where to go. So much anger – and hatred. Dad didn’t have to die when he did and I didn’t have to have my stroke when I did if it hadn’t been for HER. I will NEVER refer to her as Mom ever again. Her name was Gunvor. I will use that or the nickname Gunn. I apologize to any women who have that name. They should never be confused with the Gunvor who was in my life.
  6. I am looking actively for an attorney to handle my medical malpractice/malfeasance case. It is complicated and messy, not simple and direct. I have spoken to a few attorneys and I will speak to more. I will not give up.
  7. We have figured out how to handle Will’s brother. That’s all I am going to say.
  8. We know what we will do when all this is over and lawsuits have been settled and life has settled into a normal mode with a roof over our heads and a refrigerator and a bathroom. We so need a place to live, but Abode isn’t going to do anything for us. We missed out on Section 8 housing last week. Too many applicants and the website became unavailable after 12 noon. They opened online only at 11:00. Heard nothing from Abode. They need one more thing – a letter on agency letterhead stating a person from that agency has known we have been homeless for part of the year. Multiple letters from multiple people to cover each month for the last year. This was rolled out by Alameda County on October 1st! We have everything else they wanted to complete the application for the apartment in Oakland, then this came up. If we can come up with this for each of us and have it for them, they will need updates or something else before we fill out the application. It’s bullshit is what it is. No wonder people are homeless and living out of their cars for 7 or 9 or 13 years!
  9. We quit smoking. No more Camel Crush.We vape. I quit smoking completely and enjoy vaping, which I rarely do if I am not driving. Will vapes and occasionally has a cigarillo. My blood pressure is normal and Doctor is happy, though worries about the vape because the “News” says they are unsafe. Yeah, ok, if you buy off the black market, from a guy who makes them in his garage,etc. We don’t. You don’t want kids smoking, let’em get carded! They did when I was 18 and I was told, “NO! Get out of here!” They need to be told No. They aren’t denied often enough as it is without them having a temper tantrum. “Wha! I am old enough! You’re discriminating against me. It’s ageism!!!” Bullshit, little one. We had to suffer at your age. It’s your right of passage. Now, shut up. You’re bothering me. And get off my lawn while you’re at it. (Metaphorically)
  10. I’m a little behind on the news….has Trump been impeached yet? Has the NYSD gotten his Tax Returns? Has SCOTUS flipped on their backs and placated the Big Horny Dog? Curious. Asking for a friend.

That’s it. Will is back with dinner from Asbury Church. Chicken Teriyaki and Rice. Gee. More carbs. SMDH

Why I Am Grace

I should probably  explain the whole Will & Grace 2.0 thing. It started in November, but Grace started in 1985. Since I am at a library computer, I can more easily type. (And update the blog. Geez, how many uncategorized posts are now categorized! So much easier than from my cell.)

In 1985, my parents made me move to Norway, disrupting my college education, unearthing more of Gunn’s (“Mom”) need to control every fucking thing, including Dad, and generally screwing up our lives and depleting Dad’s pension and making sure they would never be able to afford much of anything again. We were there for 6 months. Bought a house, bought a Volvo, but they couldn’t work. Gunn, who was never a registered nurse, didn’t look for work. Dad couldn’t work. because Gunn had made sure his Merchant Sea Captain’s license became invalid (threw out the renewals sent to Dad by the Norwegian Merchant Marine). Only I could get a job as a Grocery Clerk asking customers what this thing they were buying was called in Norwegian. The customers thought I was adorable. A 20-year old from California with a Northern Norwegian accent in Southern Norway. Several of the dear elderly folk offered me “tips”.  It was a good gig.

I wanted to go to college, and Dad wanted to for me too, but the University was 1 1/2 hours away by train and Gunn thought that was “too far”. The real issue was, they had researched nothing, I would have had to transfer from a US College or University, or I would have to learn to write in Norwegian and apply since I had no “native” school records. Oops! Not accepetable to Gunn. I was smart. I could write. Never having had a reading or writing lesson in Norwegain, how would I become so extraordinarily adept in a few weeks?  By osmosis? No, I was smart!  Get a grip, bitch. And I couldn’t live in Oslo. I had to remain in Tønsberg, where they bought a house. Control of me and my every movement was so important to her.

Dad made the decision to return to Califonia since he could do nothing there with his education and experience, and I couldn’t move on with my life because of her interference and control, but we had to visit her family up North first. And this is where I learned Grace and became it.

Gunn’s parents, my grandparents, were good Christian folk. Kinda Baptist by American standards, but with a rich and deep ethhic about how you should be and act. I had no issues with it, but Gunn did. She was chastised by her father several times in my presence over the years. Let’s just say, I knew of no one that ever wore leather pants to church, but she would until Granpa said no. She wouldn’t embarrass the family by doing THAT. I was dressed as a version of Alice in Wonderland which he thought was so appropriate. They had so much respect for Dad.

Grandma told me, when I was visiting there at 17, not to listen to Gunn. Listen to Dad. He was better at being  a good parent. She didn’t “know” her daughter anymore, but she realized that I took after Dad and that was good. Imagine! Your grandmother saying you have more sense than her daughter! Inside, I was smiling like a Cheshire cat. I knew that already.

But in the fall of 1985 – the last time I would be in that beautiful place that had become the home of my heart – my cousin ViviAnn and I were walking along the shore and I told her this place had been touched by the Grace of God. This was a place of beauty that He had created for us to be in awe of, which I was. This spot humbled me and the thought of it still does. That is when I became Grace and chose to live my life that way. I have never deviated from that one true belief and why I choose to take care of Gunn in the last years of her life. I can’t forgive her for ALL she did, but He can. Taking care of her is what He wanted me to do, and I did with love and mercy, though her family is willing to disparage me for it. Like they did any-thing at all except bitch and tell me what to do.

So, that’s when Grace started, but it wasn’t until November 2018 that I became Gracie to my beloved Will. My fabulously gay friend, and thus Will & Grace 2.0 came into being, as many people started calling me Grace due to Will (and I hated being called Wendy, because Venka is so damn hard). He’s my best friend, my trophy husband, my support, my strength and often my voice. And he has my heart, as he has mine. He’s just about my everything. Well. except that one thing.  Ahem.

More about Will later. At least you know part of the back story. Will’s is far more interesting, and a very sad tale of greed, deceit, death and an unscrupulous brother.  But, damn, he had a PRESENCE. Poor Gary. He shoudn’t have fucked over big brother. Again. But Will isn’t alone anymore. He has me.