100 Things I Love About Living in San Francisco

1.  The weather is good for me.  It's usually cool enough for me.  I feel "close" to the weather, like it's my friend.  Hell, I can reach out my 4th story window, and literally touch the fog as it rolls in.  I watch it come up over the hill and down towards us. 


2.  The shower water rinses my hair and feels clean, instead of slimy.

3.  I've yet to run out of hot water, even after taking a 45 minute shower.

4.  The bathroom is 3 steps long.  First step, toilet.  Second, sink.  Third, tub.  LOVE it.  Everything is within arm's reach and I don't risk falling.  Or ... I risk falling and bonking my head severely on some sort of porcelain. 

5.  Thrift shops everywhere, as well as sidewalk sales, or people just putting out stuff they don't want anymore.  If it's on the sidewalk, it's free game.

6.  Medical care is exceptional and worth a post of it's own.

7. Muni and Bart.  I don't now why, but I love public transportation.

8. 

Is it me or is it you?

~
How is it
that of all
the relationships
with males
that I have had -
2 long terms
who lived with us
for a period
of time...
and a boyfriend
or three or four
over the years...
and who are
all on Facebook,
email, telephone
or in real life still,
all friendly,
and most are on
speaking terms...
along with
their children
for sure all are
remembered on birthdays
and Christmas,
some get caught up
at dinners out
or cooked in..
and some are
truly depended on
and true friends...
and they depend on me
for advice
about dating,
relationships,
or their children...
 
how is it
that the ONLY one
who I can't
get along with,
can't talk to,
can't make a difference,
can't reason with...

and most importantly,
can't parent with...

is the father
of my children?

~

Writing is My Therapy

She put down the phone.

Emotions ran thru her

like water runs down a mountain.

Talking to him felt like that mountain,

and she was exhausted from the hike.

She felt caught yet again

between the rock and the hard place.

A feeling not unfamiliar to her

when it came

to the father

of her children.

Even tho it had been

30 years... suddenly

she could remember...

the fear,

the memories,

the anger,

and the utter hopelessness

of change ever happening.

She struggled to remain

who she was now,

rather than who she was then.

But at the same time,

suddenly she was

back in familiar territory.

Single parenthood,

as alone as ever,

making the decisions

on her own,

with her son paying

the consequences.

Oh no.  If I write as if

this were about someone else -

write in the third person,

as if she were a fictional person,

when everyone will know it's about me...

by doing that

does it mean I'm in denial,

it didn't affect me, 

it didn't really happen?

What kind of therapy

would that be?

~

Doggie Ear Infection

~

Annie had an ear infection during the last weeks I was in Idaho.  The vet visit and treatment and prescription?  $80 bucks.  Follow-up included. 

Annie had an ear infection during the last week here in San Francisco.  The vet visit and treatment and prescription?  $270 bucks.  Follow-up remains to be seen, but was told that it counts as another office visit minimum.

San Francisco?  Not so much in love with you at the moment.

The treatment was a one time something put into her ear so I wouldn't have to do drops every day.  Turns out that was less expensive too.  But man, has it made the one side of her head a gloppy mess.  You can tell in this picture - the dark, oily looking area around her ear is the drainage.

She doesn't seem to have been born with the gene that makes some dogs never get water in their ears.  She can't even take a shower without getting water in there, it seems.  Sundays are her spa days, where I groom her really well, and check all her body parts to make sure all is well.  I've been cleaning her ears with water or hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls.  Ooops.  Not spose to do that.  It's not like I made water drip down her ears... just used it to dampen the cotton balls.  Moisture bad for ears.

Added to the budget?  $25 bucks a month added to a separate debit card that gets frozen in a glass of water in the freezer.  

There was a silver lining tho.  There is an organization calls P.A.W.S. who helps disabled people with their pet care.  If you can't walk your dog, volunteers do it.  They help with dog food, and $200 a year towards vet bills.  I had tried to apply for it before, planning ahead for a time I may not be able to walk Annie, but they told me I had to wait till I was actually at that point, and there is a two year waiting list.  The billing person at the SFSPCA said she would refer me to P.A.W.S. and I would be "expedited".  In writing this, I realize I haven't been called yet... hmmm.  Must follow up.

In other news, Michael is doing well in his quest for Disability, medical care and housing.  It's like a full-time job lately, but progress is being made. 

See the silver thing hanging off her collar?  My house key.  Brill. Ant.


~

Too tired to post today, but I have to post the pics and I'm tired of having 95 drafts in my folder

Am so completely wiped out today.  Jeremy left today, and I went straight back to bed, only to get back up two minutes later to take Annie out.  My friend Jill and I caught up after her visit to the East coast of several weeks, and I swear Annie ran her fool head off chasing that crazy ball.

Then she lost it, and I wandered around looking for it, wondering why the hell people kept yelling at me, until finally, I gave up on the ball, scolded Annie for being such a ditz about not keeping better track of her ball, and re-joined the group.  Who had the ball all along.

Yesterday, I braved the crowds to see the Giants come home for the parade that ended at the Civic Center.  Jeremy had left earlier and I wasn't going to go because of said crowd, but he said it wasn't bad.  So I decided to go out on my trike to see what I could see.  He went on down to the parade start, while I gave EXCELLENT directions on how to find me in the middle of the melee.

It was fun and then I got high off my neighbor's weed as they smoked all around me, but not high in a pain controlling way, since I wasn't imbibing the good parts... just the smoke part, and it gave me a stomach ache and a headache, so I needed to leave early.  I swear - Annie in her vest to lead the way ... the people parted like Jesus parted the waters, and I was out of the crowd within just a couple of minutes.  This being disabled can pay off sometimes. 

You Weren't There, Plain and Simple

Yesterday, I asked you for help so we could maybe help our son.  During our talk, it became clear that you think you are right and that it doesn't matter what anyone else NEEDS.

I realized that if you ever did talk to Jeremy about why you neglected him, your truth would be to blame me.  I told you Jeremy didn't want the DETAILS of our past... and right now he thinks he doesn't want to know why, but eventually, in order to heal fully, he will need to ask you "Why?" I was letting you know my part in neglecting his emotional needs, and giving you the heads up that you needed to get your ducks in a row when and if Jeremy ever talked to you again.



You told me that you've kept the letters that I wrote to you back then as proof of how awful I was to you.  That I demanded child support in order to you to be able to see him, blah blah blah.  That argument is as old as the hills, and back then, it was the tail end of the law and society believing child support = the right to visitation.  It changed to visitation = the child's right no matter what, as it should be, and what I subscribed to MOST of the time myself.  I remember it was usually me and Renee who made visitation happen, most often to "surprise" you for some special occasion.  I remember her calling me to get Jeremy to come for your wedding.  Jeremy was in junior high by then, so I left the decision up to him.  He said No, because you hadn't "invited" him yourself.  He was finally realizing that it was me and your wife who made visitation happen... not you, most of the time. 

You weren't there, and saying it was because I demanded child support is a cop-out.  Showing him the letters is a cop-out.  Blaming me in anyway is a cop-out, because there is NO excuse for ignoring him.  None whatsoever.  Zip.  Nothing.  Nada.  You DID ignore him, and me demanding child support once in a while is just a damn handy excuse for you. 

I know sometimes I did, most probably because the cupboards were bare and it was my last resort to get some HELP from you.  It was also a constant source of contention between my boyfriend/husband and I... he was supporting YOUR son, and you weren't paying child support, ever.  In order to keep the peace, sometimes I would demand. 

You once told me that you would never pay child support because all I would do with it was buy dresses and... something else that I can't remember.  Ironically, I started getting $75.00 a week from the State of Washington's Support Enforcement when Jeremy moved out when he was 18 or 19 years old and I was no longer supporting him.  The only reason I got it was because the laws had gotten better - your paycheck was garnished.  Guess what I did with it?  :-))))

Yesterday, you said sometimes you had money and sometimes you didn't.  I could understand that.  But I didn't get any  when you DID have money, hence that breakdown the one night.  The night I hit bottom was the day you boasted about buying your girlfriend a car.

During our talk yesterday, you also boasted that you would always tell Jeremy the truth.  There was the implied threat of showing him my letters.  I use the word "boast" because of your tone - the superior attitude of knowing right from wrong, and you're the authority on what is right and wrong.

In some countries, it's "right" to mutilate female genitalia.  In our country, it's wrong.  So who's "right", Dan?  I'm being extreme because you are extreme.

I don't CARE if you show our son those letters.  He's been thru 2 divorces - I think he'll get it that people do and say stupid things when going thru a divorce.  Hopefully, he'll understand that we had the added stress of your girlfriend, the pregnancy, the birth of a baby with severe birth defects, and his death.  Hopefully, he'll realize how f*cked up I was, and cut me some slack.

I remember one time you didn't return Jeremy when you were supposed to, and he missed the first day of Kindergarten.  You didn't answer the phone.  I didn't know if you were carrying out your threat to take him away from me, or if you both were dead on the freeway somewhere between Spokane and Idaho Falls.  When I went to the cops, they couldn't do a thing to help me because there was no visitation dates specified on our divorce decree.   I was sick with worry, vomiting in the toilet, triggered by the loss of a child.

My husband hired a lawyer to change visitation to specific times, and you agreed to sign the papers when we met next time in Deer Lodge to exchange Jeremy for visitation.  We met in Deer Lodge.  But you refused to sign them.  So I turned around and drove away with Jeremy.  You followed us, and the way Jeremy looked out the back window broke my heart and I had to stop and let you take him. I don't remember if you signed them right then and there, or if we had to pursue it in court.  The point of the papers was to protect me from losing my child, because you threatened to take him away from me all the time, whenever I showed any signs of weakness about being a grieving, single parent with no money, and because you pulled the stunt of "Kindergarten is no big deal, and I wanted an extra day with my son".