I’m almost done with my new project (done in partnership with two other people, by the way) and am pretty proud of what I’ve accomplished so far. I’m learning way more this way that I have been in class. That is, actually, more than a little irritating considering the amount of money George Soros/Rahm Emmanuel pay for my tuition, but what are you going to do?

My favorite part of the project is learning jQuery. I actually dismissed that previously (figuring I’d learn about it in school…ha!) but then needed something from it and now I’m in love. Like I said on my FB, I love any kind of code I can get to run properly.

Anyway, my initial thought was to run the site on WordPress. I know WordPress and can make it do pretty much anything with a good plugin. Right? But that went out the window. I need to learn this stuff. So I built a static site– from the ground to almost up¹. We may decide later to change it into a php based site or use a CMS², but that will be when the site becomes too big to manage properly with just notepad and Filezilla.

First I put my Photoshop skills to the test. After two rejections of the initial mockup I was able to move on to the CSS/xHTML. Figuring out the layout was fun and challenging, but I learned some stuff and got it rolling (pretty much). The bells and whistles are being provided by jQuery because it pretty much rocks my socks right now. I was even able to build a basic PHP contact form with validation³.

Now, I know you’re thinking “What took so long?” and “What do you mean ‘learning’? Can’t you just copy and paste?” I’m learning by understanding how the code that I’m using works. I can do up a WP site because I understand how WordPress works (mostly). But what about without WP to run things behind the scenes? I want to be able to do this stuff without the help of other people (at some point) and, possibly, share what I’m learning with other people. That requires looking at what’s going on, tearing it apart, breaking it and then fixing it. And that gets my full attention. It’s a really fulfilling process. I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about this problem and that and then finding solutions. I love it.

I’ve also got a paying client lined up. I’ll be doing for him what I’ve done on this project– but faster and with better results. Now that I’ve refreshed my skills in areas I already knew and learned some new stuff I should be able to pound something out in a couple of weeks⁴. Then, hopefully, he’ll send someone else my way⁵. I’m really excited about that, of course. Right now my portfolio is woefully lacking.

The bad news is that my husband’s irritated with me because I spend so much time working on this project (which is technically paid right now). He doesn’t understand the non-tangible benefits of what I’m doing. I’m not overly bothered about his irritation, but I’ve got to learn to pace myself better and not let my code OCD get the best of me. I get way too involved in what I’m doing and pretty soon my “I’ll be done in 10 minutes” turns into 2 hours later. Oops. I’ve got $10 that says he’ll feel much better about my endeavors once I start getting paid, though.

I’m having a lot of fun and learning a lot of stuff, so it’s all good for me. I’m also practicing not using foul language. ⁶. I can’t wait until my new “career” starts bringing in real money so I can quit waiting tables. Until then I’m going to keep practicing and learning– and being boring.

P.S.

I just realized that when you’re using the .htaccess to change file extensions that it’s a good idea to include all file extensions in the equation. If you don’t do that and use a php file to handle email coming from an html contact form your email will be broken. Just an FYI. And, yes, I fixed it.

1. “Almost” because I’m still tweaking and adding and learning stuff.
2. Content Management System
3. That’s going to need more tweaking, but I’m learning as I go. I keep getting database errors with my flippin’ checkboxes on the form.
4. Depending on whether he likes my initial prototype
5. Mostly because I’m cheap and easy– to work with.
6. Which, by the way, I’m very careful of with my clients and the customers at my brick and mortar job.

Related posts:

1. So I’m a Follower
2. They Messed with My Code
3. I’m a Cartoon!

I haven’t written a school post yet this semester. I am, indeed, slacking. Honestly, though, I’ve only got one week under my belt so it’s not quite that bad.

I’m done with my maths. Did I mention I passed Trig? Oh, yes. But now that I’m done with those courses, I don’t get to see Professor SexyPants anymore. This is sad, but we must all move on. We can’t dwell on the negative, people! Buck up and all that jazz.

Now I’m working on the final 6 courses for my AAB–which I’ll finally have next December¹. This semester is going to be interesting because I get to break work on Windows Servers and cool ass websites (again!!). I’m also taking College Writing as my cake course this semester. Hahaha! Or so I thought.

Want to hear a funny? We were having a discussion on cultural stereotypes and how advertising drives those. The one ad we were critiquing had a dude in outdoorsie clothes, in the woods, getting ready to board a hydroplane. The ad said “Are you ready for Adventure?” Now, my first thought was that it was either very homoerotic (considering the adventure wording and the dude’s facial expression) or it was a dude getting ready to do some kickass adventure stuff in his plane. Apparently I’m stupid, because I was way off (according to my professor– who is very odd and not at all sexy).

Most of the class decided that the ad was aimed at wealthy men or women because dude had a compass on his watch. Apparently these are very expensive. I dunno. He also was walking toward this plane. The ad mentioned “lemon zest” and “sparkling grapefruit” so I’m thinking dude is in Florida and getting ready to take some folks on a jaunt to the Caribbean². But the rest of the class thought it was an elitist ad, mostly because that’s the way the professor led them.

The problem for me came when I tried to explain my train of thought. If you ever experience fibrofog, don’t ever do this. Ever. I had the worst case of tip-of-the-tongue I have ever had. I couldn’t find the right words to save my life. Someone in the back laughed at me³ and the professor just kind of cocked an eyebrow in my general direction. But did I stop? Hell to the no. Of course mortal humiliation isn’t going to shut me up.

So, I tried to explain why I thought Adventure Dude was going to hop down to the islands for some fun in the sun. That reinforced their idea that he’s elitist. I couldn’t articulate that I thought drug running was actually the way he made his moolah. I mean, seriously? They couldn’t see that? Don’t these people watch “Burn Notice” or old episodes of “Miami Vice”? Sheesh.

Then we’re discussing another ad. This one is stark white, with black lettering that says “YourSpace”. There’s a vehicle of some sort pictured (it’s green) and some shit at the bottom. What stood out to me about the ad was the text at the bottom which included “when a homepage just isn’t enough”. Hello! Not only did they play on “MySpace”⁴ but they added to that internet based language. Did anyone pick up on that? No. And the professor, God bless him, insisted that the “YourSpace” meant that there was enough space in the vehicle to have an enjoyable ride.

Of course I tried to explain to him that maybe parents would be interested in getting their kids off of MySpace or FaceBook and their texting paraphernalia, but he didn’t get it. Did he miss the age of the Intertoobs? Apparently. I bet if I brought up Ceiling Cat he’d look at me like I had a big old booger hanging from my nose. Of course, ye old T.o.t.T struck again and I looked like a complete and utter idiot. That didn’t stop me though. I’m pretty sure my new Prof hates my brain-damaged guts. I guess I wouldn’t blame him. I mean, I did sound like I’d been hitting the tequila way too hard.

Now for a little whine: it’s fucking frustrating to be want to participate in the conversation and explain why his outdated ideas are all kinds of fuckered up but not be able to do that. I wanted to come home and just sew my own damned lips shut. Humiliation is not a strong enough word for what I felt when I left that class. What’s the point of having a brain but not being able to use it. I’d live with 100x the pain of this god-forsaken disease if I could just get rid of the fucking fog. Fibrofog may not seem serious to anyone else, but it’s pretty much driving me over the edge.

I’ll have to remind myself to shut the fuck up on Tuesday. Really. I mean, the man did say to let someone else talk for a while. I don’t blame him. I’d kick my ass out of the class if I was him.

And so ends my first school sucks post of the semester.

Peace, love and lollipops.

1. I’d have that motherfucker this May if it weren’t for some dude cheating on my ass, but that’s water under the bridge, yes?
2. For some killer smoke, of course, but I didn’t bring that up.
3. Which caused me to glare at them as a mother would at her disrespectful child.
4. Double fucking Dur

Related posts:

1. English As A Second Language
2. Bill sucks and Kirk is a Pagan
3. And Now I Whine About School

I was working on a post laughing at people contacting me (via my contact page) asking me to put links up for them¹, but then I see yet again idiot progressives bitching and moaning about one of the Health Care Reform bills. These folks, in case you’re not watching, have been dubbed the “bill-killers” because they’d rather see us get nothing — which leaves us exactly where we are — than to see us get something.

They don’t care about the people who will benefit from the ban on pre-existing condition exclusions or annual limits, of course. They wave away stories from real people about how either one of these bills would be helpful. It’s not helpful to them (they claim) and so they don’t want it. That’s not progressive, Jim Bob, that’s picking a goddamned scab over the pain of a 2008 loss. Or just a way to follow the piper, who is playing that tune to get page views and up her advertising dollars². Someone who is so desperate for Obama to fail is jumping into bed with that uber-liberal Norquist (hahaha!!) and feeding hapless followers lies and distortion.

A lie, for instance, claiming this MSNBC article is saying that Obama is going to exclude the employer mandate– though they claim any mandate is bad, but are outraged because of this– and the fucking article doesn’t say any such thing. I triple dog dare you to read that article and come back to tell me where it says Obama is going to eliminate the employer mandate.

I’d also like to add that Jon Walker has since changed the link in the article to point to a more favorable Yahoo! article. Oops. But, let’s examine the Yahoo! article– especially the part which says:

Instead of requiring employers to offer health coverage, the Senate bill penalized businesses if any of their workers obtained government-subsidized health care.

Do you know how the federal has convinced states to pass speed limits, seat belt laws, automobile insurance mandates and drunk driving laws? They’ve penalized the states by refusing to award them highway funding. No, the federal government didn’t say “You’d better do this now!” Instead they said “No, you don’t have to do this, but if you don’t do this you get no money from us.”

Holy shitballs! Only the most hard-headed of libertarian (or contrarian) legislatures refused. They didn’t get their highway money. You know what?

This is the same sort of thing.

Federal government: You don’t have to buy insurance for your employees, but if you don’t you’ll have to pay a penalty for your employees who get federal money to help buy their own.

Employer: Fine. I’m not gonna buy it. Bite me.

Federal government: 75 of your employees get subsidies and/or qualify for Medicaid– fork over the money, bumble wad.

Employer: Fuck. Might as well get them something.

Same fucking thing. See how that works? It’s called strong arming. Happens all the time. But don’t let that fact get in the way of your attempt to derail all things Obama (Hail, Grover Norquist!!!).

But wait! There’s more! These are the same people that were pissed that there was any mandate and now their throwing a collective fit because there might be less of a employer mandate– or at least employer mandate with different language. The cognitive dissonance is clogging up my brain. Help!

Of course, they’re pissed because there will be an excise tax on insurance policies that are worth so much a year– but only over that certain amount ($23k as of right now). Those are the ones, apparently, negotiated by the labor unions for their members. I don’t know what is covered by these plans, or any of their benefits. I don’t even know how I feel about it. But someone on Daily Kos made a point (in one of the posts by someone pissed off that Obama was elected, no doubt).

What would have happened were the union able to forgo the negotiations for health insurance and, instead, negotiated for higher wages? The argument being that with more restrictions on health care, there wouldn’t have been a need for the higher-cost plans as they’re benefits would’ve been excessive (or some such nonsense) and something cheaper would have been just as good. The argument went that the unions would have negotiated for pay raises instead which would have been taxed as income. Would that have been just as bad?

Guess if it was implemented under Obama it would have been. For some of these people Obama is just as bad as Bush. HE LEFT HIS LIBERAL ROOTS!!!!extra, triple super-duper exclamation point with a side of eleventy!!³

I hate moving of the goal posts just as much as I hate hypocrites. No lie. I mean, if you’re pissed that there’s an individual mandate (that would be subsidized by the government for people who aren’t wealthy) then you should be dancing in the streets and declaring victory if there’s no obvious employer mandate. Right? Of course. Not for the bill-killers.

Besides the fact that is not yet a real bill to oppose (except if you’re opposing both bills), either of them will provide multiple benefits to the people who need them most. Both of them offer immediate relief on the ban on pre-existing conditions and annual/lifetime caps. Bernie Sanders’ proposal of Community Health Centers is the bomb-diggity and will most likely make it through conference. That’s a huge win for people who need health care and can’t afford it under the status quo. But since it’s not the public option– which would only cover at most 7 million people– and/or it’s happening under Obama’s administration as opposed to the Other Clinton’s administration, well, KILL THE BILL. Idiots.

Now, let’s talk about me again⁴.

You’ll remember that TheMan lost our insurance when the randy fucker got laid off from his job last spring⁵. Then I was able to get shit insurance from my job waiting tables⁶. You’ll remember that my shit insurance only covers a total of 5 doctors visits a year (which is an annual cap, if you’re keeping up on that sort of thing). Remember that my shit insurance only pays up to $50 for medications a month (not much really). You’ll also remember that a few years ago I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and, recently, I was tested for uterine cancer (I’m cancer-free). I actually consider myself lucky with my shit insurance because a lot of people don’t even have that. They can’t get a check up and they can’t afford their pain meds.

Well, a couple of days ago I get a letter from my insurance company. They want to know if I was treated for anything between November 2008 and May 2009. Dur, of course I was. They want proof that I had coverage. Well, I went one month and one week without coverage– which was between when TheMan’s coverage lapsed and mine went into effect. I actually hadn’t seen anyone for my FMS during that time, but I did take medication for it. You know what that means? They’re going to deny payment to my new FMS doctor on the basis of my pre-existing conditon. And I won’t be able to see him again under that insurance plan (unless we get a health care bill).

So, TheMan became eligible for his employer insurance again, which made me all kinds of happy. Fuck my crappy insurance, I thought. FUCK them straight up the ass with a red-hot poker. Then I read the coverage information of this new insurance.

No coverage for pre-existing conditions unless there was 1 year of aggregate coverage prior to the first date of coverage (or some such shit). There isn’t even a “credit” for the time I’ve had my crappy insurance. Nope, I’ll have to wait until May to get treatment for my condition– if they don’t count my medications as treatment. If they do, well, who knows if they’ll pay for my new doctor?

I’m still fucking screwed.

I can’t go to my new doctor on my own plan until April (or May because they’re moving my active coverage date, apparently) because of annual caps and I can’t get there on my husband’s new plan because of pre-existing condition exclusions. See how that works?

But the fucking bill-killers are happy about that. They want it to stay like that. They’d rather see me go on disability and try to qualify for Medicaid for my condition (which can be debilitating under the right conditions…oh yes…wobbly JJ here!) and give up my measely job and stop being productive. All so they can declare themselves the winner! And, probably, continue to enjoy their own good health and/or health insurance.

Isn’t that nice? And folks wonder why I’m so angry. Honestly, I might feel differently if I wasn’t in so much goddamned pain all the time or I was able to pay my fucking doctors straight out of my pocket. I might be able to stand on principle and ignore the fact that this is an Incremental Change country (and always has been). But that’s not the case with me.

I was so sick yesterday that my mother-in-law took my daughter to school and I slept until 2:30pm. I slept for 15 fucking hours. But that’s all good. People like me should be glad of…something. We shouldn’t want the little bit of change that is offered in either of these bills. We should stand on principle. What happens, though, when the pain in your legs and back is so bad that you can’t stand at all?

Oh! Another story, because you need these stories of my own personal life. My new doctor prescribed me Cymbalta and gave me two weeks worth of samples to try it. Cymbalta is approved for FMS treatment as well as depression (being sidelined by pain can be extremely depressing, I’ll tell ya). Anyway, I took this shit for 2 weeks and went to pick up my prescription. It would cost me $99 with my insurance. Not only that, if I would have been able to scrape that money together I wouldn’t have been able to get my meds refilled this month because that prescription drug cap. So I told the girl to put it back on the shelf. I wasn’t buying it.

Since I was on it for 2 weeks, my body became slightly acclimated to it and I’ve finally started to get the SSRI Discontinuation Syndrome symptoms. Not really bad, mind you, because I wasn’t on it that long. But enough to make my lips feel like I was kissing a cattle prod. Still, it sucks major donkey balls⁷.

The point, of course, is the my FMS expert doctor wanted to start a treatment plan for me, but I couldn’t afford it. Now we’ll have to figure out something else– after I can see him again in April (or May). He wanted me to start physical therapy to learn some very specific exercises (he’s the expert, remember), but I can’t do that either. Annual limits and all that jazz.

You see where I’m going with this? You see why I’m some goddamned invested? Do you see why the bill-killers make me want to gouge my own eyeballs out? Fuck. I’d tell you what it would cost out-of-pocket for me to see my new doctor, but I haven’t even asked his office. I’ve given up hope for that and these motherfucking bill-killers couldn’t care less about what I’m going through (Did I mention crying like a baby when I found out I couldn’t afford my medication?).

And don’t even try to share your story with them. They don’t give two flying fucks. They’re nasty and mean and consider you to be a paid shill for the insurance or pharmaceutical lobby. There’s no way that real people would support this legislation for free of course. None of us are personally invested because our lives suck gigantic dinosaur turds. Nope. We’re all paid.

If I’m getting paid, I want a raise goddamn it. Fuck this not being able to afford the $99 for the meds. If I’m getting money from big insurance to support this shit, then they better pony up some more money. Mama needs some new clothes!! Oh, and if George Soros is still paying pro-Obama bloggers, I want that money too. I’m thinking a sleep number bed would be awesome.

P.S.
I’ll get back to that other post later. I’m waiting to see if I get any new offers to sell my links (money, motherfuckers, makes the world go ’round… or something). If I get some extra traffic I can demand more money, right? Controversy attracts eyeballs, people, don’t forget that and eyeballs equal traffic which equals bigger advertising dollars which equals more and better shoes. Just sayin’.

1. And no one mentioned payment by the way. WTF?
2. Pageviews equal money and, here’s the secret, controversy drives pageviews
3. Except for the whole fact of Obama not being liberal ever in his whole Senate career. Hello! He voted to expand FISA. Dur.
4. I know you’re shocked that I’d do such a thing on my own damned blog, but you’ll get over it.
5. I call that Karma, but whatever.
6. I IZ RICH!!
7. I won’t be going back on that shit even if I can afford it in the future. Fuck that noise.

Related posts:

1. Riding My Pink Pony
2. Yes, I am Selfish
3. Wherein I Lose my Damned Mind

First of all, I mentioned on my FaceBook page that my biopsy was normal and there was actually a story behind how I found out, but I don’t feel like getting into that right now. Thanks to all who sent along good energy for me. And a big ol’ kick in the ass to my doctor who insisted I go to her office (a half hour away) a week early, use up my last paid visit and pay the copay to hear what she could’ve told me on the phone. Woo-hoo! Gotta love it, right? Pay good money for the good news. I was supposed to be happy, but I ended up pissed. Go figure.

Secondly, I promised my friend, Dav, that I would post his videos. I’ve been slacking lately so I haven’t done it yet. He does a really good job, so check them out (and go rate them if you can). He’s a real activist and deserves many kudos for his work.

This one is SOOOO true and Dav edited it himself. Imagine if insurance companies were on the beach on D-Day.

Dav, sorry it took so long to post these! I’m a little bit slow nowadays.

Onward march! I was perusing my archives and, guess what? This month mark’s my blog’s 5 year anniversary! How awesome is that? Now, that’s not saying that Fabulously Jinxed has been alive for 5 whole years or that I’ve been blogging for only 5 years, it only means that I have archives going back 5 years.  If the Web Archive had available copies of my old blogs going back further than that, I would have copied those entries here. Considering they were pretty long, boring and religious, you should count your lucky stars that they were lost in the Internets black hole. Le

I started sometime after my son was diagnosed (in utero), which was 2003, on GeoCities. That was basically just the chronicling of my pregnancy. I also did some writing on Delphi Forums back in the day. GeoCities was the shit back then. Oh, I remember we all had our memorial pages (in my Potter’s Syndrome group) and that was oh-so cool for me. That was when I learned HTML for the first time. And, yes, there were animated GIFs on those pages.

Then I moved to LiveJournal. It was way cool back then. I did that mostly for the Pagan community. Considering what I was going through, I was searching for a divine answer and, since I’m not Christian, community with like-minded souls. The Delphi Forum was filled with Christians who were shocked that I didn’t believe like them. And so I turned to the LiveJournal and BeliefNet communities (BeliefNet for the boards, of course, there were no blogs there then).

Then I became pregnant with Lil’lady and somewhere in my 3rd Trimester I started actually liking the baby inside me. So, my blogging (journaling, at the time) took yet another turn. I became a “mommy blogger”. Holy shitballs! I wrote about my healthy pregnancy, and when she was born, my healthy baby. Oh, the fun! There was a lot of “Here I am. Wide awake again.” type posts. I was really tired all of the time back then. And depressed. That was the fun part. Ugh. So, I lost interest in the Pagan side of things (not really, but you know what I mean) and moved again. This time I went to Blogger (I do believe this was just prior to Google buying them).

For a while I continued to write mommy posts and then I started posting in the BeliefNet politics forum. Some of those people would get me so fired up! I would go back to my Blogger blog and rant away. And thus my addiction to politics was born. Even back then I would respectfully (to the best of my ability) debate on the forum, but go blow my top on the blog. I was way better then. I did research, provided links and actually made coherent sentences! That, of course, was prior to my Fibromyalgia. Anyway, that blog turned political and, pretty soon, got to be a little bit well-know (which I really didn’t like). When I was writing well, I couldn’t be stopped. I was known by a different pseudonym then and had a few contacts in the “important” lefty blogosphere. We had fun poking wingnuts and I was even trolled hilariously. Then I wanted to do some personal blogging, but wanted it to be separate from my political stuff.

That’s when I bought my first domain name and uploaded my first WordPress blog. I have no idea when that was exactly, but the name was so fucking corny I’m embarrassed to even repeat it. I didn’t do a whole lot with that blog, I don’t think. A few posts here and there. Back then linkage was actually worth something and I remember some guy linking to me out of pity. It was funny because my blogger blog did so well and this guy thought I was a newb. I loved it. At any rate, I stumbled upon a certain blog “review” site and in the course of reading some links came across a blog called “Ultra Violet” and another called “Awaiting Xtasy”. I helped Awaiting with her HTML code (and we became quick friends) and UV (ha!) was having some issues about pit bulls and I was all on her side—or something. That was a REALLY strange situation. Anyway, we too became friends (along with a few folks from Miz UVs regular reader brigade). I then went on to meet many other wonderful people—Vince, Kelly, Monique, Steph, Tim, Dav and, my secret crush, SG (If I forgot you, please accept my apologies and, please, remind me in the comments).

So, things evolved and I bought a new domain, called Fabulously Flawed and made that my new political blog. Then I got sick of having two blogs and combined them again. Then, I don’t even remember why, I changed my fake-name and my blog’s name (to Fabulously Jinxed) and combined everything again. Apparently, I’m not afraid of change.

And here we are.  I repurchased Fabulously Flawed (I don’t know why someone didn’t snatch it up because the second I deleted my blogger blog someone got it AND it’s page rank) and haven’t really done anything with it. I was going to make it my tech heaven, but, shit, I can’t even blog here with any regularity anymore. I’m probably going through one of my phases and will once again regale you with tales of drunk neighbors and crazy mothers. Or whatever it is I’m focused on at the moment. Right now I’m kind of just in my own little world and thinking about stuff that seems like it doesn’t belong here. So, I’m actually considering yet another blog. I’m pretty sure I won’t do it though because, really, do I need another one? No. I think I just like setting them up and thinking up stupid names. I dunno. I confuse the hell out of myself. Ha!

I will tell you that I’m planning on killing my FaceBook page. I think I’ll go to the Google Reader thing to keep up with those of you in hiding (you know who you are), but FaceBook is killing me with their Mafia Wars and Farmville shit. Did I mention I have an addictive personality and I just want to get to level400!!! OMG! I don’t really even interact on there either (those of you not my friends on there aren’t missing anything). I suck at FaceBook. And I will kill that account at some point in the near future. I’m sure you won’t miss my “You’ve found a lost cat!” posts. And I’m pretty sure some people have actually blocked me on there. My bad. Please accept my most sincere, addicted apology. Pffft.

Oh, and when I do kill that account I’ll be sure to check my email more regularly (haven’t opened that thing in days). My bad again. I really need to find better ways to waste my time.

I’m not killing my blog. What are you crazy? I will have one blog or another for the rest of my days—even when blogs become obsolete and no one can make money off of them anymore (I can’t wait for those days!). Though I may be going dark for a couple of days if I don’t pay my host on time (please, gov’mint, send my money!). I’m way too vain to through all of my hard work down the tubes. Seriously, isn’t my skunk just adorable? C’mon, admit it!

Related posts:

1. Can I getta clue?
2. Reid fires : ‘The president has been giving us doublespeak for years’
3. Dear Blogspot Friends, Part Deux

I started my life in a bad situation. My mother and father hated each other and by the time I was 6 months old they were divorced. My mother moved to Columbus, OH with my brother and I where we were thrown into poverty. My father refused to pay child support, didn’t bother visiting us and my mother was on her own raising to babies¹. Within two years, my mother had given birth to Other Sis and was a little deeper in the hole.

Back then we had welfare, but it was designed in such a way that a poverty-stricken single mother couldn’t get out once she got in. If she took even a small part-time job, her kids were thrown off of Medicaid and her food stamps were taken away. There was no program to help with rent, no way for her to get help with training and furthering her education. We did have programs that helped with extra food, bus passes and clothes. She found every program she could find for help and went with it. There was no help from either father of her children.

Every year before we started school my mother would go to Charity Newsie to get out school clothes. This was a program offered in Columbus and was, I suppose, a gigantic help to impoverished parents. But is sucked ass for the kids who had to wear those clothes to school. There were only about three outfits that we could choose from and the other kids (the ones who didn’t get Charity Newsie) knew we were poor and picked on us. It was horrible. I was an introverted kid who didn’t even attempt to make friends. I remember very clearly that no one seemed to like me and I was beaten up quite a few times. I’ve blocked out a lot of my childhood in Columbus. I remember the cockroaches, the times without utilities, the time my mother attempted suicide and the school kids hating me. I don’t have any good memories of that part of my childhood.

When my mother tried to kill herself, my great-grandmother came to save us and we were shipped off to live on my aunt’s farm for a while. I still don’t know what happened to my mother during that time. I remember that I loved having a “normal” family and that my life seemed awesome. We went to family functions, went fishing, had cook-outs and real clothes. Other Sis would sometimes ask about our mother, but I don’t remember caring too awfully much. I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to stay forever and ever. Of course, my mother came for us eventually. A woman from the welfare helped her get out to the farm to pick us up. Apparently my aunt refused to bring us home. She wanted us to stay with her because my mother just couldn’t do it. In a lot of ways she was right. My mother struggled with depression and was unable to provide for us on her own. I was incredibly broken when I left that farm.

So, eventually my mother decided to take us out of Columbus. It was after some dude was beaten to death right around the corner from us. Or maybe it was after my mother’s boyfriend beat her nearly to death while my brother and I (both of us less than 10 years old) tried desperately to save her. Or maybe it was after someone tried to kidnap my brother. I don’t really remember why except that I’m sure it was her attempt to save us from something. One day we packed up our stuff and my mom told us we were moving. I thought that we were moving around the corner (every time we moved we had basically stayed in the same neighborhood) but we left the city and headed for a small village two hours northeast of us. Talk about culture shock.

We were still poor, of course. But things seemed a whole, hell of a lot better. I loved living in the country. Our house, though, was a fire hazard from the get-go. We couldn’t use our tub because every so often we’d get a shock from the damned thing. And we had to use a wood stove for heating. That sucked in the winter time. When our house finally caught fire² we moved in with my uncle. That’s when my mother finally got a job. I was 12 years old.

This was my formation period. These are just some of the things that shaped me to be the fuck up I became. My brother, gods bless him, was broken more than any of us and has never recovered from the life we lived. As we became teenagers, we went completely wild and my mother dipped deeper into depression and, I think, borderline personality disorder. We weren’t struggling financially anymore as my mother learned to make money as a house keeper– and still keep her state aid³. I dreamed of going into the Air Force, getting a degree in linguistics and becoming a translator at the U.N. More stuff happened and I got in with the wrong crowd.

I went from being a straight-A student with no friends and who was more than a little bit weird, to hanging with the “hoods” and being ultra cool. I also started smoking weed and drinking. My grades slipped and I decided to take easier classes instead of college prep classes. At 14 years-old I had a 21 year-old, Colombian fiancé, who actually lived in our house and slept in my bed. At one point I ran away to Florida with him and turned 15 down there, living with his family and with my family having no idea where it was I had gotten to. I went through some tough shit down there and finally came home. At 16 I became pregnant, at 17 I gave birth to Lil’ Miss (and graduated high school) and at 18 I moved out to start the cycle again– with my own family.

Which brings me to my point. I won’t rehash how bad I fucked up in the first few years I spent on my own. But Lil’ Miss and I did a little better than my mother did with us. I didn’t have anymore babies while I was single. I worked 2 jobs so that I wouldn’t be forced to take welfare. But we still struggled and I still hurt my first child with the crapped out decisions I made. Until finally I hit the bottom and had to make a decision. Which way to go? Give in to the cycle and dip further into insanity and poverty? Or get the fuck out of it and do whatever it took to save myself and my daughter?

I chose to save us. I chose to end the fucking cycle and improve our lives. I settled down and entered college for the first time. Then I dropped out. Then I found TheMan and he convinced me to try again. We got pregnant and got married. Our son died and I dropped out again. I got pregnant again. My life became stable and secure, things I’d never experienced before in my life. Then in 2006 I decided to go back to school again.

At the age of 37 (next fall) I will be the first person in our family to graduate from college. Next December I will finally receive my very first degree– and then begin studying for my second. Until I sat down and looked at my entire life I was a little ashamed that I was only getting my Associates of Applied Business at my age. Whoop-di-do, right? I should’ve had that damned thing years ago.

But I think it’s something to be proud of and I’m going to allow myself to feel that pride. I came from shit and I should, according to statistics, be shit. I’m not Barack Obama⁴ but I’m within months of actually accomplishing a dream. I’m no longer living in poverty, no longer struggling to eat or to find clothes for my own children, I’m not wondering how I’m going to pay the rent. I’ve broken the cycle for myself and, though one daughter is struggling, my second daughter will never know what it’s like to sleep with electricity or huddle in the cold because the heat was turned off. And her mother will be college educated.

I’m just a little bit proud of that. Ya know?⁵⁶

1. My brother was 22 months old.
2. I was the first to wake up and save the family. Imagine that…
3. Yes, it was completely illegal
4. Or anyone else who’s succeeded after a life of poverty.
5. And so ends this edition of “OMG! I can’t believe this is happening!”
6. Image courtesy of Monroe’s Dragonfly

Related posts:

1. In All Seriousness
2. Drunks on the loose
3. A quiet moment