Arggggggggggg...

Is It Me? Or Is It Just Me?

Packing Sucks!!!

Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday Dear Brie, Happy Birthday to Youuuuuuu...

I have only one request... DANCE! Dance like no one's watching. Let your heart be filled with gladness and love. Now don't just sit there, get up and DANCE! Don't make me go there... hahaha.

I hope your birthday is filled with all those things that God knows you need. I hope you receive all you have hinted for. And I hope you are surrounded with the love and caring of friends and family. For if you have that, what else do you really need?

I hunted...

... but all I could find was this Bunny Fairy and YOU won't let me keep him. So... you'll just have to settle for this blog and my arrival next week.

Maybe one day I can make you a cake like this... ain't she pretty?

Have a GREAT and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Brie... and many moooooooooore.

Oh yeah, and one more thing... (but not while the other one is playing)... Now hurry! Go DANCE!!!

It's Raining Sunshine

Well, enough already! That rain blog was there way too long. I couldn't seem to get past it. No more, I say, NO MORE!!! The facts are as clear as a sunshiny day.

• The hole will be in the ceiling long after I leave here.
• The landlord will STILL be who he is.
• The people in my life will still be there to encourage me.
• The people who hindered me are GONE.
• My new life awaits with hope, inspiration and love.

So what am I crying about? Scant little I suspect.

I sit here looking at the lyrics to the song you hear. "Look around, the storm has passed, just hurricanes of happiness." ... "Cloudy with a chance of love." ... "Whatever weather is in store, bring it on, because I want more."

Yes, it's raining sunshine. OMG... I'm slow. Nine more days and these troubles are behind me. Does that mean I will be trouble-free? Holy moly, probably not. Why? Because life is difficult. It's supposed to be. Well, DUH!

Thanks for being my umbrellas, my friends. Thank you for ALL you do.

It's Raining Again!

It was the weekend from hell!!!! I'd go hahaha right now, but I can't say it was all that funny.

I awoke to the sound of rain. We were expecting some nasty stuff - torrential rains it said and high winds... oh, Joy!!! As I laid there before opening my eyes, I tried gauging how my stomach felt. The stress of moving had been taking its toll and I had had horrible belly aches.

In the midst of doing the inventory of my innards that sound caught my ear. Yes, it was raining...INSIDE again! I laid there not quite knowing how to feel. When I opened my eyes and looked up at the gaping hole I call my ceiling, I saw that indeed the water was dripping in all over the place - just one more time.

I just closed my eyes and prayed for God to give me strength to make it through the day or however long this would be happening. Satisfied that I now had the inspiration to move on with the day, I threw the covers back, sat up and slid my feet into my slippers.

The chill in the room was undeniable. I supposed it came with the dampness of all that water coming in. On my way to the bathroom I cranked the heat up a couple of notches. It would be toasty in no time.

I went about the business of waking up and reading the paper trying ever so hard to not notice the water streaming in. It was working rather well until about an hour later I noticed that it wasn't getting any warmer. I have hot water heat. So I went over to the baseboard to feel it. It was as cold as the rest of the room.

"Just wonderful," I thought as I tried to figure out what to do. It was Saturday. Landlords are conveniently absent on the weekend. At least mine is.

I got dressed and decided to go down to the card shop. Maybe he could enlighten me as to what to do. As I walked into his store I felt a chill that rivaled mine. He had just recovered his heat. It needed to be turned off due to repairs he had been doing. It had only been cooking about an hour and a half he said.

I told him I had no heat and I wondered if they had turned mine off too, although for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. There certainly were no repairs being done in my apartment.

I noticed an instant change in his demeanor. He hemmed and he hawed and his eyes avoided mine. I know he doesn't like to get involved in things that don't concern him. The thing is that he has a problem getting involved in those things that DO concern him. He is not a wave maker, that's for sure.

So I'm standing there thinking, "Well, come on. Just spit it out!" But I'm smiling as if I have no clue what is going on. After what seems like an eternity, he finally told me that he overheard the workers say that the landlord had been shutting off the heat of those who didn't pay their rent this month.

No. And I had no intention of paying it until he would come to fix things. (The reality is that I am moving. I don't like the idea of not meeting my obligations. But water seeping in willy-nilly and a shower that leaks like a sieve are things he should have taken care of immediately. And let's not forget that he promised a dumpster too. In the meantime I have to trot my garbage a block away.)

So no, I haven't been a very happy camper to say the least. And now to think that he purposely (and very illegally) put my health at risk was just too much for me to handle. I made a little more small talk and then retreated to my apartment and picked up the phone.

I was very careful to not be accusatory. But I did want results immediately. He said he would be on his way over here. He wasn't happy at all, but that to me was his problem, not mine. I narrowed down the time frame because I had other plans too. I told him someone was coming to pick me up and that I had to know. He said he would come right away. From where he is that would be about a twenty minute drive.

About half an hour later I heard all the commotion out in the hallway. I picked up the phone once again and called the police. I wanted a witness to what I was going to say and it needed to be someone who could be deemed as credible.

Ten minutes later I let them in and told them about my suspicions and we went to confront the landlord. It was obvious that he didn't like the element of surprise. And he certainly didn't like being accused of something he said he had no involvement in.

But his role as the victim didn't play well either. The cops accompanied him to the basement where the boilers are. If the boiler had just ceased operation they told me, then there should be a distinct odor of gas seeing it wasn't turned off. That could create all kinds of problems - dangerous ones too. Oddly enough, there was no odor. But not being certified themselves, the cops could do nothing to remedy the situation..

He followed them back upstairs to my apartment. He began getting pretty belligerent with me. At one point in the discussion I told him to step back, that he was being too aggressive and that he needed to back off. His arms began to flail as he demanded that I be 'put out on the street.'

At one point his arm touched my shoulder, and instinctively I just pushed him. If I thought he was dancing before, it was nothing like he was doing now. And he was at a near screaming point. The cops told him to settle down. He demanded to be let into my apartment. I told him he could leave.

The police wanted me to go to a friend's house or somewhere. But I told them that rumor had it that he did this to people. And when they were out of the building he would then go through their belongings and he'd himself to whatever he wanted, and that I wasn't going anywhere. Although very adamant that I should be where it was warm, they could not force me to go.

The end result was no resolution. I had to have bigger guns than the police. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was at a loss as to what to do and stayed in that 'unknowing' feeling for the rest of the day.

On Sunday I called the gas company. I so very much wanted to tell them there was a gas leak, but issuing a false report could get me into all kinds of trouble, so I fought that impulse. They did, however, give me information that I could use on Monday morning.

And so here we are at Monday. I called them right away at 7 a.m. They put out a work order and would be here in one hour. But that was of no use unless the landlord was here to let them in. I then called the police again, to help track him down, because he wasn't answering my calls.

I called the TV station and the newspaper. They were not interested in any story, but thank you very much for calling.

I called the Board of Health, but it's strange. They don't do anything unless a person's rent is paid in full. I thought they were in the business of public health and building code violations. I guess I was wrong. It seems they are in the business of collections for the slumlords.

I called Social Services because I am low income and qualify for fuel assistance. Maybe an act of Congress could get those people going, but I doubt it.

I was running out of options. But the funny thing about that is when you think you've run out, you're wrong. There's always one more.

I walked to the restaurant across the street and asked if I could use their phone. I told them briefly of the problem. They were very kind. The way I figured it was that he was screening his calls. But a call coming from a restaurant would stump him and he just might answer the call.

BINGO!

I was very calm and I made my statement. "The gas company is on the way here and so are TV crews and reporters. My next call is to the Board of Health and Social Services. The police are here standing by. They want me to ask you how long it will be before you get here."

At that point I was all by myself in a restaurant. I sat there drinking coffee until I saw him arrive. I just waited. I needed another person present and would wait for the gas man. I saw the landlord get out of his car and I called the waitress over to witness where he was going. We saw him go to the end of the building and then he vanished into the alley. I asked her would she be willing to tell the police what she just witnessed and she agreed. You see, in the alley is the doorway to the basement. He was going in to turn the gas back on and claim it was all some horrible mistake.

I saw the gas man coming down the street and called the police from my cell phone. I only needed them for insurance. As they pulled up I thanked the waitress for all her help and told her that they might be coming over to see her. She winked and told me it was no problem at all.

As the gas man got out of his truck I told him we needed to wait for the police before entering the building. He didn't seem all that shocked and got back into his truck. I just stood in the doorway and waited for the police. They got there in about two minutes. Small towns are good like that.

I explained that the landlord was already in the cellar no doubt turning the gas back on so as to not get caught. The gas man was horrified that he would do such a thing. We entered the basement and lo and behold there he was just fidgeting away with MY boiler. (They are all clearly marked.)

And if I thought he danced on Saturday, it was nothing like the jig he was doing when he noticed us. He was shouting obscenities and carrying on so bad that the cop told him if he didn't calm down he was gong to arrest him. The poor gas man and I just stood there as it played out in front of us. The landlord had been caught red-handed.

In the end... (I bet you were thinking... Is she EVER going to end???)... The heat is back on, the landlord is in a mess of trouble and he is the one getting the bill for the gas man's service call. Now that the police witnessed him being who he is and doing what he does, they will file a report with the Board of Health and the building code inspector. Social Services will be notified because he has other low income people renting from him also. And seeing he owns practically the whole street, they will most likely be looking into inspecting his other properties as well.

Mission Accomplished!!!

Leaving The Past Behind

I wouldn't want to have to repeat the last 24 hours for anything! The doubt, the insecurity and OMG the waiting on hold! But it's done now and I am so very grateful. Now the work begins. Yuk!

My friend, Brie, had to change her plans to come and retrieve the old woman. I can't say I blame her. What a trip! 900 miles into unknown territory. She can't stand the idea of feeling lost. And I could feel her pain traveling all that way just to come get me and feeling that sensation every step of the way.

But God is good and He makes all things possible. So when I heard that I was going to be flying there I should have seen it as the opportunity to experience the friendly skies. Instead I withdrew inside myself and became selfish, self-centered and weepy.

But with another 24 hours that have passed I see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. We humans are a strange bunch. If we ask God for something and He bestows it on us, we think nothing of it. Most times we don't even say thank you. But if He says no or not right now, we wail like infants (at least I do haha). Ah, humanity - how fickle.

Back in May of 2008 I was embarking on a new life too. I remember being willing to give up anything to get there too. Today I'd like to share a piece with you that tells what I was willing to do.. It tells me that if I was willing then, I should be willing now. And it almost seems like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I present to you The Baggage Claim. Thank you, my friends, for keeping me right with myself and my God.

　

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The Baggage Claim

Wave after wave of lights flashed by her eyes as she peered out the window of the bus. She was glad that the bus driver knew where they were. She was utterly lost. It seemed as though they had been in the city for hours.

Her thoughts drifted... 'people aren't supposed to live like this all stacked on top of each other... they need room to breathe, to just be.' And the bus just kept on moving. She wondered what Grand Central Station looked like after all these years. Would she still recognize it? She had only seen it once, but that building left a deep impression on her mind.

It was the number of people that stunned her the most. And they all seemed to know where they were going. Suddenly she felt like a hick with a huge 'H' tattooed on her forehead as if to warn those around her. She was sure they could tell. It's easy to see someone else's uneasiness. Maybe she could fool them by the way she walked, head up, eyes straight ahead. It had worked before in similar circumstances.

She was shaken from her thoughts as an almost alien sounding voice came over the speakers announcing they were approaching the station. People were stirring from their sleeps and out the window she saw the building which had made such a mark on her years before.

She guessed it was that gold color that did it. It was so ornate and rich looking, a throwback to an era long forgotten and most yearned for these days by people who were media-soaked and too hurried. She knew that building had many stories... countless perhaps. Loves and lives lost or reunited. Maybe daily travels or transitions to other countries... safaris maybe or Paris and Rome. It was a romantic building all right, with secrets and vows, yearnings and dreams. And although there was much busyness, she was sure an infinite number of ghosts dwelled there. As the bus ground to a halt, she wondered if the inside had changed much. She hoped not. It was a grand spectacle to behold.






It seemed brighter to her somehow. She wondered why. Maybe some building that was close had been demolished and made way for the sun to shine in. Maybe she was different and looking through different eyes. It was the same, yet not. It was all quite baffling to her. And then she saw the pictures on the wall. Yes! That was the Grand Central she remembered. Dingy looking and not so pristine. It was a definite lived-in look. A place with too much company for so little space although it was huge.





It was the smoke! You could smoke in public without feeling like you were going to be whipped back then. That was the difference. Oh yes, times had changed all right. And the numbers had increased, although that was hard to imagine.

No she had no time to dilly-dally. She wished she did. But it was time to head for the baggage claim and then find someone to help her to get it out to the curb to find a cab to the airport. She stopped and asked for directions.

These New Yorkers, so prideful of how friendly they are, are a gruesome bunch. It seemed as though she was 'bothering' them. It didn't take long for her anger to rise at the idea of being thought of as a pest. "Then take off the damn uniform if you don't want to be bothered," she thought.

And as quickly as it came, she knew she had to get rid of it. This was no time for that kind of thing. She was headed for her new life... the one she had been waiting for... forever. there was no time for anger or bitterness. No time for negativity. No time for pettiness or ambivalence. She was embarking on an adventure... finally. And this building was part of it... to be relished and enjoyed.

And she headed in the direction she was told, renewed by hope and joy. She only had two hours for the transition. She would rather be early than late. With determination at full staff, she moved forward as if to convince herself that it was all going to be all right.

After a long tedious journey, the likes of which she had not endured in a very long time, she finally found the baggage claim. There were some people there, but it seemed odd to her that there weren't more. Perhaps this would be her lucky day after all. There was no time to linger.

With seven bags and a trunk, it was going to take forever to get to the airport. Only now at this very moment did she think that she could have sent them on ahead. "My God, what was I thinking?" she thought panicking just a little inside. Brushing the fear aside, she just moved closer to the counter. Only two to go and she would be there. Within just a minute or two she was there.

The clerk was courteous, but cool. He had no time for small talk and he made that plain. "He'd never make it up north," she thought to herself, "too withdrawn." When she asked him about help for her baggage, he seemed rather unconcerned about it. She could tell it was going to be another wild goose chase for sure. He waved vaguely in some direction and blurted out something to the effect of "personal problem, blah blah blah." Again her anger overtook her. "Well, pray tell, does it look as though I have eight hands for eight pieces of baggage?" Whereupon he informed her that she should have packed lighter. And without missing a heartbeat, he looked up and past her, and called out "Next!" And there she was. Seven bags and a trunk and no one to help.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to do anything or be anywhere but here. But that wasn't going to happen any time soon. One hour and forty-five minutes to launch. "Damn, I'm cutting this too close," she thought. "There's no time for phone calls and sorting things out. There's just no time."

She found a seat within view of her bags and sat down. It had been hard trying to determine what she was going to take and what she was going to leave behind. It had been one grueling decision after another. One time when she glanced over at them, she had to blink... and blink hard. Her baggage was rapidly becoming a metaphor for her life, cluttering it, weighing it down, necessary in some respects, but burdensome in others. It was time to weigh it out and try to do it in a somewhat rational way. It was beginning to look like a spectre, not a blessing.

She reached inside her purse and found a pen and a scrap of paper. Very quickly she drew a line down the middle from top to bottom. It was time for the never-fail method... the pros and cons. It always served her well.

She always amazed herself with quick decisions of the heart. Some she regretted, but for the most part, her judgment was good. She sat back and looked at the very messily scrawled list. She looked up and checked out the baggage, and then back her list.

There was one hour and thirty-nine minutes to go. The trunk had always been her "necessary" box. And what lie in the others was very little clothes and way too much history. And so her decision was made. The trunk and the largest bag. That is what she would take on her new adventure.

Hindsight told her she should have sent them off before her. That wasn't possible now. The trunk was on that neat little cart she had bought... it had wheels! And most certainly she could carry one bag! The rest? She and her best friend had already discussed something like that before. She remembered it vividly in that moment. He had said, "You know, you just have to let go or it will darken your new life." And she had very reluctantly remarked, "Necessary losses, huh?" And he, in his ever-gentle way, had said very quietly, "Exactly."

And so she walked over and grabbed the biggest of the bags in one hand. She tipped the trunk a little so she could pull it behind her like a shopping cart. She took one last glance and the remaining six and thought, "Go ahead... be on your way. To me you are excess, to another you may be a blessing. You're just one more necessary loss that I have to know to make it to my new life free."

And she turned, and walked away. Never looking back, never giving it another thought. For if the truth be told... the future was much brighter than the history could ever be. She made the airport on time. She made it to her new life on time... a little lighter, a whole lot freer, and very happy.

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And that, my friends, is what I intend to do. Thank you for your unending support. I love you all.