Go Forth! Seek Knowledge! --->

When I think of life, I think of a marathon.  We are all running down the same route, some of us are ahead and some of us are behind.  Some of us have more fans, some of us have no support aside the courtesy of an empathetic and kind hearted stranger or two.

The beginning of life usually begins much like the start of a race.  There is much fanfare and anticipation and family and friends gather around; pump you up, fill you with advice, tell you, �You can do it.  Just get out there and focus.  Keep your head up straight, remember your posture, take long strides, concentrate on your breathing�You can do it!  We�re all rooting for you.�

Sometimes life begins with a mere smattering of applause and an apathetic, �Yay� much like a Monty Python skit.  This runner must find the strength and support within themselves to get motivated and help them with endurance.

The life marathon can be an extremely long race.  Some people are cut down early on in the race for various reasons, but for the most part, the participants are going to be experiencing long, winding roads, some of them lonely, some of them crowded; twists, turns, climbs, declines and times when the long black ribbon stretches out in front of them for miles and miles, no end in site.

I have already written about the beginning of my race back on December 31 and a post or two in early January.  These were the very edited�and I mean e-d-i-t-e-d versions.  I know that some readers could handle it and I know that some could not.  The point I was trying to stress may or may not have come across because I chose to edit; rather, it was lost in the idea that the mere act of writing it down made me brave.  I do not blame everything on that time in my life and I do not use that time as a crutch to excuse my behavior 98% of the time.  I did point out however, that some things cause certain reactions in me and I�m still learning why to this day the more I talk to my sister.

This does not mean, however, that it does not lurk in the shadows like an angry beast just waiting for me.  Most of the time, when my path takes me close to its door, I will cross the street and continue on down the opposite sidewalk in an effort to avoid it.  But I know it�s there and it knows I know it�s there.  I can feel the heat of its rancid breath; the yellow, half dead eyes boring holes into me.  I can see its snout, protruding just out of the grasp of the shadows; its sharp fangs dripping with hot saliva that slaps into a steaming puddle on the cement beneath its vicious claws; those claws desperately wishing to shred me apart and leave me to waste in a mess of broken bones and torn flesh.

I do whatever I can to avoid it instead of confronting it and defeating it although I have taken half hearted stabs at it here and there throughout my life.

At the end of the first leg of my race, everything was pretty much going according to plan.  I had accomplished some goals, I had done something I was very proud of and have been proud of to this day and I had explored parts of this world.  So when I returned to find a letter from my maternal grandmother, everything was looking up.  Because I was adopted, the agency was acting as go between but was limited to rules and restrictions.  One of those rules had just recently been changed in the state of CA that said regardless of how old the siblings were, the state would not give out any information unless a biological parent signed a waiver and agreed.  Even if we were 60 years old and the biological parents had passed on.  Again, the criminals were being protected while the victims were treated like criminals.  Waivers were sent, signed by one party and when sent to one biological parent, they were denied.  This ended all hope of getting back together via that route.  Many other attempts were made through various means but as money was tight, most of them were not an option.

This affected the way I viewed people.  I was told I didn�t trust enough where others told me I trusted too much.  I was told I was too kind where others told me I was too closed off.  I was told that my face was expressionless where others told me you could read me like an open book.  I was confused as hell, didn�t understand much of anything at this point in my life.  Everyone was out to proclaim their genius for figuring me out when I couldn�t even figure me out.  So I tried everything, all different ways of opening myself up to others to try and figure myself out.  This didn�t necessarily go well.

As my race continued, things were looking hopeful.  I was near the front of the pack and I knew, I felt a surge of energy, a powerful hope that I would emerge victorious at the front of this pack and lead them to the finish line.

But somewhere along the way, I missed a glass of water or a cooling sponge or I tripped and had to administer first aid to myself.

About 1/4 of the way into the race, I found myself homeless.  I had been attending college and had a roommate who hid her psychosis well.  We got along great and had a lot of fun so it came as an enormous shock to me when two days before rent was due, along with all the other bills, she informed me that she was moving out.  It seems she had moved to my area to be near her boyfriend.  The one her psychologist ordered her to stay away from.  I had no idea she was medicated.  I had no idea she had some kind of obsessive disorder or other types of problems.  After finding my voice again, I informed her that what she was doing was extremely unfair to me and that I really should be getting more notice than this and/or some kind of assistance with these bills.  That did not register with her.  She was moving back to her parent�s house and could not grasp that even if I left, I would still be getting screwed as the bills were in my name.

I tried to be honest and upfront with the apartment manager but he blamed the entire situation on me.  I continued to try and work things out until he came to my door one day, face red and shaking with anger, a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hand.  He yelled and screamed obscenities at me, his face growing darker, spittle forming on his lips.  I kept eyeing the cup of hot coffee.  It was the first time since my childhood I was actually afraid of someone.  It was at that point that I knew no matter how I tried to work it out, do the right thing, it wasn�t going to happen.  I called my parents, explained the entire thing to them and asked them for help.

They actually said, and I quote, �We can�t help you.� Not because they financially couldn�t�..it was because they didn�t want to.  I had absolutely no idea what to do.  I called an acquaintance from school and she talked to her dad who was a bishop, (or some high ranking church member), and I was allowed to stay at their house one night.  I�ll leave the irony of a bishop turning his back on a homeless kid up to you to play with.

The next day I called another friend and she came over, I put most of my stuff into storage and lost the rest of it to the apartment manager, and went to her house.  I had three changes of clothes, a toothbrush and a hairbrush inside a duffel bag.  She laid padding and blankets down on the floor in her living room and that was where I lived for three weeks.

I still attended school.  I still did my homework.  I still passed my classes.  And every day after school, I would knock on every apartment building door in the city.  I also knocked on every business door in the city for work.  MORE work than I already had.  Some may not know this but Seattle had an influx of new people moving up there in the sum of approximately 500,000 people in 5 years time.  The vacancy rate was at 1%.  The job rate was just as bad.  I also swallowed my pride and went to ask for assistance for food.  I was literally starving.  I lost 30 pounds in less than two months because I was so hungry.  I was informed that because I was a college student, I had to work at least 25 hours a week.  I did.  We did the math, I was too rich.  I was fucking starving but I was too rich for assistance.  Out in the lobby I saw fat, lazy people with their 5-6 kids, brand new clothes, cars parked outside....but I was too rich.

However, I did find a place to live, I found another job, and, as I stated, I completed spring quarter in school.  My job was working at a hotel and I informed my boss that I would be going back to school full time in the fall and would I be able to switch to part time when school began.  She told me that because I would still be on my 90 day probationary period at that time, that I would not be able to switch over.  By this time in college, I had so many credits I was �self-advised� and one of the first people to register for classes.  I had one quarter left to go to get my degree.  BUT!  Once I had tasted what homelessness was like, that fear rushed forward and flooded my senses to the point that I could not think clearly.  I was petrified of going through it again and decided I had to work right now.  I would save some money and attend my final quarter in Winter.

I tried to do the right and responsible thing.  Again.

The one quarter you do not miss in college is Fall quarter.  You can miss any other quarter during the year besides that one.  If you miss Fall quarter, they erase your number in their system and when you try to go back another quarter, you have to start at the end of the line all over again.  Meaning, I lost my placing in registering because I missed Fall quarter.  I went back in Winter quarter to register but because I lost my placing, I was so far down the list to register that even the waiting lists for the classes were too long and experience taught me I would NEVER get in.  I had a registration appointment late in the day and was told the classes I wanted were full and I needed to go to the Math/Science department and get my name on the waiting lists.  As I had much experience with this, I knew precisely where to go.  I got up to that department and no one was there.  However, I also had enough experience to know exactly which folder was used to hold the waiting lists and with a casual reach, I grabbed the blue notebook and opened it up, scanning for the pages with the classes I wanted.  Of course they were all full but something was different this time.  Something that had never happened before in my entire academic career at this school.

All the names were in pencil.

You bet the temptation was there.  You bet your ass it was there.  But I didn�t.  Again, I did the right and responsible thing and added my name at the bottom of the list.  I was beyond the 100th student trying to get into each class.  It wasn�t going to happen.  But I couldn�t erase someone else�s name and put my name down because it just wasn�t the right or fair thing to do.

I missed Winter quarter as well.  I haven�t been back to college since because I just did not have the money to take ridiculous classes to try and work my way back up the ranks to get the classes I needed to graduate.

Time passes uneventful.  I�m working, I�m living by myself, I�m paying my bills on time and I�m just starting up a savings.

But I hate my job.  I hate it and the bosses are lying and stealing from us.  I knew I was going to quit this job so I prepared myself.  Or so I thought.  The last day I worked at this job was the day they made me drive to Portland, OR despite the extreme icy roads and the orders from State Patrol to stay off the roads.  Not pleas, not asking�ORDERS! Unless it was absolutely necessary.  This stuff could have been put on a plane and flown down but the company was cheap and did not care about my safety.

I drove over 400 miles on a sheet of ice.

The next day I got up, called all the numbers on my credit cards and paid them three times the amount due on each bill.  I also double paid my rent and phone and other utilities.

I knew I was going to quit and I had the money to pay up everything for two to three months so I wouldn�t have to worry about cash.  So that�s what I did.  Or so I thought.

Naivety rears its ugly head about two months later when the creditors started calling.  I was completely unaware that you could not pay $75 twice and have it count as two different months payments.  It just counted as one.  Lesson learned the hard way.  My credit didn�t get screwed, it just had some late payments of 60 days past due so it was no longer stellar.  Seems to be something everyone should know already?  No one is born knowing everything and I had absolutely no idea that you could not do that.  Once again, I tried to do the right thing, the responsible thing and it bit me in the ass.

We did end up suing the company for not paying overtime and we won the case, despite my parents telling me not to bother getting onboard because even if we did win, I would not see one red dime.

I saw $400 worth of red dimes about a year and a half later.  Don�t ya just love the optimism and support I received?

I got my next job and things went pretty well for a long time.  Granted I had a co-worker bitch from hell but that was the worst thing in my life for about 2 years.  I was making money, I was doing tech support, I was getting fat bonuses�I was feeling alright. 

Until I met Scott.

Oh things started out okay.  He was hilarious, always making me laugh and always getting me to see the lighter side of situations.  Always up for anything on a moment�s notice.

But I found out later, he had a drug problem.  It started off with marijuana.  I was none too happy about this and should have�(yes, �should�ve, could�ve, would�ves” all around)�ended it right there.  Instead I told him that he was not allowed to smoke it in my house, near me, be high when we were together or have it affect my life in anyway.  He assured me he would do so and I was stupid enough to believe this.

I got him a job driving at the place I worked.  I was in the office; he was out driving so it wasn�t like we saw each other a lot.  Additionally, he worked late in the day, I worked early.  With the driving job, the bigger the car you had, the more money you could make.  Scott had a small Honda Accord�.a beat up one no less.  About two months later, there was a huge car show where dealers from all over brought their cars to a mall parking lot and were offering insanely good deals.  We went to see if Scott could get a truck so he could make more money.

He found a very good price on a truck and in we went to negotiate with the dealer.  As it turns out, Scott�s credit was shite because of some old medical bills and since he had no checking account, the dealers would not work with him.  Enter na�ve girl.  I made an agreement with him that I would write the checks and he would pay me back.  He turned around and gave me his Honda Accord.  Got the truck and were leaving to go home.  Walked out of the tent and I saw the car of my dreams.  Well, not the ultimate car of my dreams but a car that I really, really wanted.  Having just bought a truck, I knew there was no way I was going to get this car so I hugged its hood and stood there for a moment in sorrow.  A dealer saw me and tried to strike a bargain.  I played hard ball because I knew I wasn�t going to get it, I just bought a damn truck!  But the dealer insisted on trying so I played along.  Apparently my credit was outstanding at this time.  Long story short, I traded in the Honda Accord and forked over more money and found myself the proud owner of a Volkswagen Fox, Wolfsburg Edition.  I was in heaven.

Now, Scott DID pay me for the two checks I had written to get the truck in the first place but as a large chunk of change was still owed on it, it remained in my name.  He made payments to me and I mailed the checks.  Everything was going well.

But then his drug problems escalated into other drugs.  He started hanging out with some bad people and money started disappearing.  The driving job required a lot of gas so I loaned Scott my BP card.  (DUMB! I KNOW!) He was then able to make money while he saved money to get the truck in his name and get his own gas card.  After awhile, because I always scrutinized my bills, I noticed some high charges several days a week.  I knew how much he drove in miles per day, I knew how many miles per gallon the truck got and I knew how many gallons per tank it held.  Therefore, I was able to do the simple math and find out that the extra charges were not making sense.  Scott tried to tell me that those were for gas for working.  Bullshit.

What was going on was that he was paying for his drugs by purchasing gas or items in the BP Mart for his dealers.

When we broke up, he left me with not only the truck�which I had to call the cops to get him to give me the keys�idiot�but a $500+ BP bill.  Drug payments.

This is the part of the race where I began my very hard climb up an extremely steep hill.  This was also the stretch where there were no people giving out water nor were there people on the sidelines cheering.  This next part of my race was hot, exhausting and lonely.

I now had two cars in my name, a huge BP gas bill and my own bills to deal with.  I was making ok money but it wasn�t THAT good.  I was desperate.  I put ads in the paper to sell the truck but because it was a smaller cab truck and no canopy, I got no takers.  Then a new girl started at work.  Long story short, she got the truck.  However.  She was only 17, just graduated high school and could not get a loan from a bank in her name until she turned 18.  I had three months to wait.  But again, I was desperate and had to take whatever deal I could.  I handed the keys to the truck after she paid me a month�s bill on it and we had the agreement that she would pay each month�s bill to me, I�d make out the check and when she turned 18, she would get the truck in her name.  Her father worked at this company and he was a pretty decent person so I had faith this would happen.

And it did.  It took her three extra months past her birthday and many phone calls from, me to the banks because her lazy ass wasn�t getting how important this was but she finally got it in her name.

My credit rating shot through the roof.

We became really good friends and eventually decided to get an apartment together.  The apartment was cool, I was saving money and I had a cool roommate.  Things were going well.

Until June of 1998.

I had just got back from visiting a friend in CA Because of this long trip, I had purchased four new tires, had my oil changed and had new brakes put on.  I was back not even a week and was driving home from work.  I had just purchased a full tank of gas.  I went through an intersection and was t-boned by a car that was coming from the opposite direction, turning left.  He turned left right into me.  The reason he didn�t see me is because a large SUV that had been traveling in the left lane in my direction, stopped to turn left himself.  He blocked the other driver�s view and that driver thought all was clear and gunned it.  My car was totaled.  I also ended up with some vertical cracks in my spine.

At the scene of the accident, everyone gathered around him and ignored me.  The only people who paid attention to me were the fire rescue workers.  As I was being put into the ambulance, the police bitch stepped up into the back of the aid car and handed me a ticket. They were blaming the accident on me.  The guy in the SUV lied!!!!! And told her the light was red and that I had run it.  The light was not red, the driver who hit me admitted it was not red and the police bitch refused to take my side of the story.  I used to be an MP�I know damn good and well you get statements FROM EVERYONE!

I asked her for the number to call to give my statement later then and she said, �You don�t need to give your statement.  You ran a red light.� And she left.  So I got a lawyer.  Everything was going fine.  Until my lawyer, who apparently got cancer, died.

Ten days after he died, before I got a chance to get another lawyer to continue this case, MY insurance company, who had treated me like ultimate shit throughout this entire ordeal, wrote a check in the amount of $10,000 to the other driver.  The case was closed and no lawyer would touch it.  Such bullshit.  Ultimate bullshit.  I�m thinking a few people got paid off.

I now owed $2000 on a car that had been totaled.  But a bank gave me a chance and loaned me the money for a new car.  I got another VW, Jetta this time and started picking up the pieces and moving on.

Everything was going fine for awhile.

Then I met Seth.  As per usual, things went fabulously at first.  He had just moved here from W. Va and was going to college and lived in a shitty house filled with about 10 other guys.  He found a new place and was moving in with a friend.  I helped him move.  He had nothing.  So I, stupidly, let him buy things off my credit card, (one store), with the agreement he would make the payments.  Which he did. 

And things went along smoothly.

Until my roommate and I decided to move out and into a house.  We found a really cool house for pretty cheap, another roommate to help lower the bills and we gave our notice to the apartment building.  When we had moved in, because my roommate had been so young and had no established credit, (this was before she got the truck in her name), we had to pay first, last and deposit.  So, we had already paid last month�s rent and we took that last month to move our stuff out gradually.  We spent most of the time at the new house since we had already paid that rent and occasionally came back to get mail or more stuff.

Two weeks into the month, December 14th, I went to the apartment to get more stuff and saw a �Notice of Abandonment� on the door and the locks had been changed.  Oh hell no!
Long story short, the bitch manager took our stuff that was still inside, HID IT from us, REFUSED to give it back to us and even when we had to get police officers to come with us, still denied us our stuff.  She GAVE MY ROOMMATE�S PETS AWAY!  (Fish) I was on fire.  We went to the Tenant�s Union, got some advice, learned about some laws and when the hag still refused to work with us, we took her bitch ass to court.

Get to court and find out she tried to say we did not pay the last month�s rent because we had failed to turn in the fucking garage door opener on time.  The door opener was a separate bill from the rent.  She also threw in a slew of lies and heresy and tried to win the judge over into her favor by telling him that we left the place a mess.

HELLO bitch!  You didn�t give us a chance to move all of our stuff out let alone clean!  DUH!

The judge wasn�t having any of it.  He actually YELLED at her..(oh what a glorious moment that was) and told her that if she even DARED to continue with her sudden counter suit inside the city limits, those judges were going to rip her to shreds and she was going to end up owing us a LOT of money.  We won the case and the bitch dropped her filthy lie filled counter suit.

Things were going along well once again.  The third roommate was an alcoholic to a major degree�to the point she scheduled her drinking time in her day planner.  We hated her.  But she was hardly ever home so it was bearable.  Then I made my next stupid move.  My roommate really wanted to get a couch, (living room was empty because not one of us had any damn furniture), but she couldn�t get a credit card because she was so young and all she had was her truck on her credit.  So I let her buy something off of one of my cards from a catalog with the agreement that she would pay me back each month.  Since things had gone so well with the truck, I trusted her.

In the meantime, Seth and I broke up.  We remained friends but he still owed me $500.  I was now driving for a living, having moved out of tech support and my tires were so bald, the steel wires were coming out of them.  I told Seth I needed $250 of that $500.  He had the fucking audacity to tell me he would LOAN it to me if I paid him back by June.  I needed the tires so there was no time to argue the point that his ass OWED me twice that much.  I said, �yah, whatever, I need to get new tires�will you please bring me $250?� He did, I got my tires and then I informed him that he now only owed me $250.  He had the fucking nerve to get mad at me.  Our friendship ended right then and there because he took my kindness and threw it right back in my face, hard!  I demanded all of my stuff back AND my $250 by the end of that day.

He did so and in a lapse of assholedness, he showed that he still had a heart and offered me my cat Serenity.  She was his cat but she was always at my house and I had really fallen for her by this time.  He wasn�t supposed to have cats at the apartment, (hence why she was always at my house), and as much as he loved, adored and cherished that cat, he knew she had a good home with me.  I know that wasn�t easy for him but he swallowed his pride in the best interest of the cat.

Then my roommate decided she didn�t need to make her payments to me on time anymore either.  I rode her about this every month for four months.  Then she decided to up and move to the Chicago area to be with some guy she met over the phone at work.  And she left me that damn couch.  That couch was not taken care of and looked like utter crap in less than a year and there was still $500 owed on it.  (Yes, I know $500 is a recurring number here�don�t think that has escaped me.)

Right before she moved, however, I got into my accident of 1999.  That was the one I�ve already talked about to death.  The hippie fucker who got high and crossed over four lanes after taking a curve in the road at twice the speed limit and came at me head on.

He caused $6000 worth of damage to my car and to this day, I still live in pain as he knocked my spine out �� at the neck and �� at the hips.  Thanks fuckface. 

But, I�m able to walk and I didn�t die. 

I was out of my livelihood for a little over a month.  I also found myself even more terrible roommates, one of them had been my friend for 9 damn years and she bailed out on her rent halfway through the month just three months later.  Another one lasted only two weeks before her bi-polar behavior started showing through and causing major problems with me and the neighbors.  I had to call the cops on her one night and they made ME leave for my own safety.  How about her ass leave?  I came back the next day, informed her she had two days to get the fuck out and was left holding the rent again.

I had to swallow my pride and ask my parents for help, not expecting to get any since they were happy to leave me homeless all those years back.  But they did.  With some stipulations.  I had 4 months to pay off their loan or they would begin charging interest.  I�m not making that shit up.

Long story short, this fucking accident suit lasted three years.  I got my settlement three years later.  In the meantime, because I had shitty choice of roommates and shitty choice of friends and had this idea that if I had the means to help someone, that meant I had to help them, (until a friend put it to me this way:  �That doesn�t mean you need to buy everyone a fucking couch!��.good point), I was having to yank money out of thin air so as not to end up homeless again because apparently these pieces of shit didn�t understand the importance of paying rent or bills on time, if at all.

I decided to hell with roommates.  Fuck them all.  I finally got my own place and everything was starting to get back on track.  My credit was fucking destroyed by this time, I had no savings, no car, �oh yah, forgot to mention�.in Dec 2001, my car got stolen!  WHEE!, and had pretty much dissed all of my so called friends.  But things were getting back on track and I was going to get out of this.

Until I got laid off.

No one has worked so damn hard to find another job like I did.  No bites.  I finally called my brother and we re-kindled a plan to have me move down here to save up some money.  We had gone over this about two years before but I wanted to try, just one last time to see if I could do this all on my own.

And now I�m here.  It took me forever to find a job here.  I finally settled for one and then found another that paid even better even though the job was worse.  And then, JUST when I started to get my shit together and save up�I broke my ankle.

And no one will give me the Medicare rate or VA rate or write off because I don�t have kids, I don�t have property and I don�t know how to lie.  I�m so bad at lying and hate it so much that I don�t even know how to double talk.  I don�t even know how to tell the truth without �telling the whole truth�.  Lots of people can do that.  I�ve just not ever been able to do that.

So, here I am.  I�ll make it through this as well.  I�ve made it through MUCH worse as you can see.  (If you actually read this far.)

I�ve had brief moments in this race where people were on the side lines; cheering me on, telling me I could do it, keep it up, etc.  And I�ve needed that showing of support.  I am coming around the next bend�it�s a blind bend in the road and I have no idea what�s on just around the corner.  So, I get up each day and try to invent new ways to deal with things all the while fighting off the demon in my head that wants to tell me I�m an idiot and a loser for allowing all of this to happen�what a fuck up�.and spiral down into darkness where no one will be able to reach me. 

There are days when it�s within biting distance, I can hear it snapping at my heels and those are the days where I think I�ve lost all hope.  Those are the days when there is no one to talk to.  It�s like a phenomenon.  When I most need someone to be there, everyone is gone.  So I deal with things alone.

And then I get up the next day, try to clear my head and think of the situation in a different light and I find hope.  And suddenly, everyone comes out of the woodwork to support me.

It really is strange how that happens.  Anyway, yesterday was a dark one and I wanted to break something�.(not bones. inanimate objects)�because I was so frustrated and all of these memories came flooding back at the same time and there wasn�t a damn person to talk to.

But, here I am this morning, writing it all out, knowing that at least one reader knows precisely what I mean with each word written and thinking that there is the possibility another one knows this as well�(you two know exactly who you are)�.and feeling much better now that it�s out of my system even if no one reads this.

Who knows what the rest of the day is going to bring and what will come tomorrow.  But for right now, that snarling, hungry beast is being kept at bay and I�m free to continue in this race unbothered. 

And while I’m racing, undisturbed for now, I’m going to think of other ways to tell Fate to take a flying leap off the nearest cliff.  She’s really pissing me off.

<--- Here Endeth The Lesson