I remember the time

AHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhh the past. I am sitting here thinking about my past when I was drinking, and doing drugs. When I was never sick and always working. You know lets start from what made me starting thinking about the past.

It all began with the blog called My True Best Friend. In there I was discussing hanging out with friends. Back before I met my husband and for the first 8 months that we lived together I had ALLOT of friends. All day long I would get visitors, school buddies, work buddies, some buddies I had picked up from other buddies. They would all come to my house and we would drink, watch TV and do drugs. It would last all night long. Wait.... wait lets start from the beginning. The day I met Mary Jane.

I had been working for a call center. I kept myself mostly secluded. All I wanted was to work and go back to my moms house. After a month or two, I met two guys. One, Hoke, who lived in a trailer, played the electric guitar and smoked pot. The other, Storm, lived in a half way house, and was a recovering drug addict and alcoholic. They both lived the same distance from me. They both would write me notes. They both called me the ice queen. Only because I was focused on my work. I would hang out with both guys separately. I was interested in Storm but I was concerned about Hokes health. He wasn't feeling so well. I got him feeling good and focused my attention back to Storm. After a few weeks of hanging out at Hokes place and watching him smoke out, I decided I wanted to do it too. The first time was a little scary. Hoke was looking at me and saying 'she is waisted out of her mind'. Any person that is doing drugs or drinking will say 'no I'm not'. Which I did. I was actually hallucinating. I saw one of his friends standing in the hall dancing (he was getting a drink of water). His other friend was on the other end of the couch getting a tattoo. While getting the tattoo he was doing coke and drinking ( he was actually just watching). I was laying with my back against against Hoke taking in the scene. Then Hoke started to kiss my neck and rub my arm (Found that didn't happen at all). I looked at him and everything was all jumpy and stroby. The room was filled with smoke. I was not comfortable with what was going on as I was dating Storm. I asked him what time it was and he had no idea. I asked his other friends and they did not know either. I was ready to go back to my mothers house. I started out the door and found that I WAS really high and could not walk home alone. I would never find my way. I asked Hoke and Jarhead to walk me home. Hoke said he was too fucked up and Jarhead told me that he would drive me but not walk me. I was not about to let him drive me he was more messed up than I was. They walked me to the busy intersection with 8 lanes of traffic, and left me there. I swore that it was around midnight and that my boyfriend would already be home. My parents would be pissed. I ran after the guys and begged again for them to take me home. Eventually I surrendered and let Jarhead take me home. He pulled all the way into my driveway and watched me walk inside. I walked into the house to find my mother, father and brother all sitting in the living room. I took a quick glance at the clock, it said it was 10:15pm. I told my mom I was not feeling to well, and ran to the bedroom. I passed out instantly. But not before laughing at myself for freaking out about the time. I could have sobered up a bit, before coming home. Two and a half hours later Storm came home. He woke me and we went out for a smoke. I guess I had not completely come down yet because outside I started hallucinating that I was in our new apartment and I was talking about how to decorate it. Then I almost walked into the pool. Pretty sure that would have woke me up. The next morning I woke and told Storm everything. He was pissed but he understood. A week later he was no longer going to sobriety classes. I started doing it once a month then when I got my own place it became once a week.

At my own place I had visitors at all hours of the day. I preferred to smoke out at night but my friends came over during the day so I would do it then. Just like a me a friend that did not smoke would come over and eventually she decided she wanted to do it. I was taking a hit off my steamroller when Karen said it. My eyes bugged out and I choked. I made sure this is what she wanted to do. My other friend that was there started loading a bowl in the peace pipe. I asked her if she wanted the peace pipe or the joint. She chose the steamroller. The steamroller was a black cylinder that is a foot and a half long and black. Open on both ends. It would hit really hard and over power a person. I said no but she persisted. She coughed for 5 minutes. At the end of the night our other friend Tina walked her home, then returned back to my house. I was laughing so hard at the story Tina had told me. I guess on the walk home she swore up and down that the sign in front of the police station was walking in step with them on the opposite side of the street. About 15 minutes later Karen called me to tell me that she put her pajamas on inside out, the seat and lid were down on the toilet and she peed on it, and that she was burping in puffs of smoke. She was terrified that her mother would come out and see it. We assure her that would not happen. She started coming over allot more frequently.

At first I was just a pot head. Weed was my pleasure. Unlike other potheads I did not gorge myself on food. Instead, I would clean like a mad man and do some massive mommy mode. I also had an impeccable memory. After awhile it got to be strenuous, working and being the best hostess. I was working at a temp agency. At six am I would walk 6 miles to the agency and then wait to be sent out on a job. Usually I got picked first. After the job I would return back, cash my check, get something to eat and go to work another job that night from the agency. Around 1am we would get off work and half of the crew would go back to my house. From their we would drink, eat, and get high. It got to the point where I never got any sleep so I started visiting my neighbor. At 2am I would walk next door with a camel wide sized joint and she would give me some speed. Now life was good. I didn't have to sleep, or eat, just needed to work and party. On the weekends I didn't work so I would sleep all day Saturday, party with my weed Saturday night. Go to bed at 3am and get up early so that I would sleep Sunday night. At 5am, Monday morning, I would get up and walk to work. Then the week would repeat.

I was in a good life. I had allot of friends. The neighbors would come over to visit. I was constantly high, or buzzed on alcohol. I had a job and a place of my own. I was happy... when I was abusing a substance. When I did not do anything I realized how my life really was. Storm my boyfriend was abusing me, in every way possible. The drugs numbed the pain and feelings. He had me trained like a dog. Dinner was always on the table when he came home. I let his cigarettes, walked 2 feet behind him, and always said sir when speaking to him. When people would come over I was super hostess. I served and refilled drinks. Loaded the bowls and made the joints. Provided the snacks for their munchies. When I was not serving I was sitting at Storms feet on the floor. I was not permitted to speak unless spoken to and I was not permitted to carry on a conversation, unless the other person kept asking questions. Whenever he wanted sex I would surrender willingly. It did not matter if people were in the house or not. Storm would take my hand and guide me to the bedroom or bathroom. He would either take me doggy style, have a pillow over my face for missionary or when I was on top I had to look at the ceiling. When we would finish I would light us both a cigarette and the ashtray would be placed on my pelvis or thigh. He would miss the ashtray and get my body instead. He would then get up and go to the restroom. I would get up too to wash the ashes off of me and hear him in the bathroom masturbating. I confronted him once and that is when he started hitting me. At first I thought it was because he was under the influence but later I found out that was how it was. I was hit, kicked, punched, pushed, and thrown all over the apartment. Thankfully the drugs or booze killed the pain. I felt nothing until later when I was sober. Sober was mostly on Sundays. He was nice enough though to keep the marks out of view. He not only physically abused me but also emotionally scarred me. He would call me ugly, the reason for the pillow. Called me fat, stupid, plus many other names. When he was not calling me names or hitting me he was sleeping with my friends, neighbors, and people that lived around the corner. It was not until the end of the relationship that I found out he was cheating on me. I thought he was going to work, he had been fired. Instead of coming home he was going to other peoples houses. I immediately went and got an HIV test when I found out, then moved out.

I ended up moving in with some friends of mine. Hoke and Gill had hooked up and gotten an apartment together. At there place we all worked together at the same place, and then came home and smoked out. I quit speed and cut down on the drinking immensely. I decided to go on hiatus from relationships for awhile and not get with anyone else. Storm came after me a few times, and found that I had a strong defense at Gills house. He ended up moving back to Pennsylvania with his parents. How he got there I do not know. All I know is that he left with barely anything. All the furniture, electronics, music, dishes, and everything else was mine. He only had clothes. He stole my pipes and sold them to some people for the money to move. While I was with them a friend had me try acid and it had no effect. I also tried heroin but it bored me. I lived with them for awhile then moved back to my parents. I still kept smoking. I would ride my bike to my friends house and stay for a couple hours, just to get away from life and get high. She and I would clean the crud out of her place.

Roughly six months later my friend Karen was hooking me up with this guy named Jerry. He was her boyfriends best friend, and later found out only friend. Karen was sick of Jerry always hanging around so she showed him a picture of me then tried to get us together. I refused him not wanting to get back into another relationship I just wanted to hang with my friends. We eventually did hook up 2 months later. If you read the blog called _____ you can get the full story on how we met and how it ended up. Anyways we moved in with one another and my friends still came over but only when he was at work. My boyfriend no longer did drugs so they would wait until I was alone. They would speed, trip and smoke out. All I did was smoke out. Acid never worked on me. Every night they would come over for 2-3 hours get high and leave when I started to cook dinner. Every night I would smoke out. Jerry did smoke with me though according to him he used to always smoke week. When he would take a hit or two he would just sit there then fell asleep. He only did it with me maybe once or twice. At first Jerry didn't care. Then he started getting concerned that his work would fire him if they did a drug test because of second hand smoke. So I took it into the bedroom. I would smoke one bowl then come back out and watch TV. Then he started just getting nauseous from it. So I did it while I took my bath. Eventually we moved out of that apartment and into his grandmothers house. I did not smoke as much but I still smoked. At first it was on the drier outback, or on the front porch. Then I started doing it inside the car. During the two years we stayed there I smoked less and less and less. Maybe it was because I was away from my contacts or because I no longer had any friends. I just didn't have it all the time.

In our next apartment I only did it when we went to one of his friends houses. His friends wife would ask me to come into the other room away from everyone else. Jerry told me to go ahead. The first few times I said no, but eventually I needed a time out too. At first we were at their house allot then it was once a month. I only did it once a month. After awhile we would see them every six months. So, I only did it every six months. Then we stopped hanging out with them all together. The next time I did it, was my last time I ever did it. Roughly 8 years ago we had gone to Ozz Fest. Jerrys' friends from Prescott had come down. We were up in the grass and Jerry and all his friends but one decided to see how close they could get. At 11pm Ozzy came on stage and Valde loaded the bowl. I took two hits off his pipe, and then returned to my husbands side. I was really high. I sat on the grass and listened to Ozzy play. We left from there and went out to eat. Jerry had no idea I was high even though he had given me the ok to do it.

I have allot of stories that I could tell you, not all good. But almost everyone has a story from their stupid days. Like one friend that desperately needed smokes. As he walked to the gas station he fell down the last three steps and fell into the bushes. A friend of ours went and bought him cigarettes and kept him at my place safe. Another friend jumped from the railing of the second story building, to get into the pull quicker than everyone else and slammed his head on the side of the pool. He broke his nose and was in a coma for 2 months. A girl was hanging with her friends at a party and she got to under the influence. A group of boys gang raped her. Nine months later she had a daughter. And the final story. A girl coming home from my party was walking home alone waisted from all the booze. She stumbled off the sidewalk and fell into the street right when a car was coming down the road. She was dragged 100 feet and had her head severed from her body(For the record I offered to walk her home, she told me she had someone).

Like I said the ozz fest was my last time. We moved into our house and Jerry is the only one that has done it since. (yeah it pissed me off when he did it.) He thinks it is stupid that I got mad, but when I would ask him to do it with me, his wife, he would say that it made him sick, and he was scared they would do a drug test at work. But the DJ of this place we do karaoke at offered it to him and he said ok. They snuck around behind the building with 4-5 other people and took some hits. He wouldn't do it with me cause he gets sick but he did it with people he only knows on Saturday nights from 9pm to 1am. He even told me to go do it, but I do not know them well enough and I am sure as hell not doing outside behind a business. I have thought about getting high quite a bit since I quit. Many times I have wanted to score some from a co-worker or an old friend just to make me relax. But then I would think about how upset it would make my husband and walk away instead. I can get some anytime I want I just have to ask. But I have more control than most people.

I think now how stupid I was when I was doing drugs. You sure never think of what is happening when you were doing it. But years later you go OMG. Things like. I shared pipes and joints with many other people. Some people I did not even know that well. I would prep it, hit it, pass it to as many as 9 people. Then hit again after they all had their lips to it. I could have contracted a disease like herpes from doing that. I could have had an undercover cop in the mix and not even thought about it. Going swimming. I could have drowned. I would watch people get shit faced then go out driving. Girls were having sex with whoever supplied the drugs. Thankfully I was in enough control of myself not to sleep with whoever was looking at me. I will admit I got stupid high and incoherently waisted, but never let anyone get in my pants. I new when to stop and go home.

Another thing that I think about is the fact I really had no friends. Except Karen. After I had quit doing drugs they had stopped coming over. When I think about it, the only reason they came over was to get high. Everyone knew that I never ran out of weed or booze. They left when they had gotten too damn high. They would all walk in and either throw their own stash on the table or waited for me to produce it which I always did. Know one came over just to be with me, it was Mary Jane they wanted to see. No fights ever broke out at my place or near my place so I don't know who had had my back in I would have been in trouble.

But I was also a smart drug addict. I never carried any drugs with me. I never smoked in the living room. I refused to smoke it anywhere but inside the house, almost always at my house. I did not drive anywhere when I was high. I was always walking. I also was very careful about who I had in my house. I never let people I did not know into my house, and immediately start getting high. They had to provide it first and all my friends new that. If you pull it out of your pocket, have a dirty pipe, load it, and take the first hit you are welcome.

One other thing that I realized is that I was never sick the whole time I was on drugs. Before I started smoking I always got the flue. After I quit smoking I always got bronchitis and severe migraines. HMMMmmmm maybe I should ask the doctor for it. Medicinal reasons. I never really used drugs to get high I used it to make myself stop doing so much. To make my brain shut up. To put myself in a time out. To unwind. Well that was how it was when I was alone. When I did it with other people it was because I was popular. Everyone liked me when I had the weed. I was the cool girl.

I am not sure I will ever do it again. Most likely I won't. I have been offered many times but I have always turned it down either in fear of my husband being mad or just because I would rather do it at my own home, where I know I am safe. I love the way it smells, to me it is like smelling your most favorite food. I do know this though. If I do ever do it again. I will get fucked up on the first hit. It is so much better to do it every couple of years than every day. The high is much more pleasurable.

Just so you know..... Most people, including me, who do it or did it every single day! They are trying to make that high as good as the first high. It won't happen. But they keep trying in hopes that they will have that experience again. Or they are doing it because everyone else is doing it, kind of a popularity thing. Drugs are like a roller coaster. Your very first time you have no idea what is around the next turn, or how high up you are until you are heading down. When you get on it again you know that it goes upside down, and your face gets sprayed with water, but it still has a wild affect. Ride it even more times and the thrill is there but you know it won't get any better until you get on a different ride that you have never been on. That is why many people keep changing drugs. The next one may have a different effect but it has the same outcome.

My True Best Friend

Ever since I got married there has been no such thing as friends night out. If I go out then it is to go out with my husband. If I did go out with someone other than my husband I always cut out early or do not have as much fun. I would never go to the movies unless it was to see something he was not interested in. I honestly do not know why. Maybe it is because my husband is the only friend I need.

In the past couple of months I have been going out with a few co-workers. Maybe three times in the past 4 months, and always when he is out with his friends, which he does almost every weekend. The first time we went and saw a movie. The second time we went out to dinner and to an amusement park. The other time we went to a bar, did some karaoke, and shot pool. I had one drink when we first got there. I actually had lots of fun, but wanted to return back home to my husband. Evan though he was not home.

Hanging out with friends constantly! That was over 6 years ago. My friends would come to my house or I would go to theirs to get high. That was when my husband and I first started dating. After we were married I would hang out at Denny's or go bowling. The Denny's thing would start around 10pm and ended when my husband would come back from his hunting trip at sunrise. We would all have breakfast and then go our separate ways. Bowling was from 9pm til 1am then I would go home. All my other friends would go over to someones’ house and party.

I really only have two friends, and right now they are both scarce. The one I have known the longest is male, gay, and I have known since September of 92. The other one is female, married with kids, and I have known her since November of 06. She is the one bar pal above. He is the Denny's and bowling pal.

I met Simba in high school through some other female friends. I thought he was cute when we first met but I was not in the market for anyone. We did eventually get together after he had gone with all the other girls in the clan. But I got him the longest. Though we were off and on for two years. We never had sex, we never even french kissed. Plenty of hickies and blue balls though. (Muahahha) We figured being friends and mated souls was good enough. A phone psychic told him we were soul mates. If that was the case I would not be where I am now and he would not be gay. His mother wanted to kill him for all the calls he had made to the psychic line. My parents just adored him, like they did some of my boyfriends. Mostly the homely or adorable ones. Any of the bad boys were disbarred. My parents, Simba and I would all go to Pizza Hut and always got on the jute box and played 'I will always love you' and 'I will do anything for love'. Later in the months we started playing 'Can you feel the love tonight'. The Lion King was our movie. His family even drove me up north to meet more of his family. He went away once for awhile and I left the song 'Since I don't have you' on his families answering machine from beginning to end . We would get yelled at all night by our parents because we were on the phone. While on the phone we would be watching Beavis and Butthead marathons til the crack of dawn. A couple years later he moved to Oklahoma for awhile, and while he was there he called me on my birthday and told me he was gay. Though that did explain why he was not as sexually charged as I was while we were together. Anyways yeah I was pissed when he told me he was gay, for two reasons. One because he was the second guy I had been with that decided taking the northern express through the train tunnel was better than a casual drive through the holland tunnel. I drove all the way to Oklahoma and asked him to come back to Arizona with me, in hopes that if I got him away from there he would be straight again. He told he wanted to stay near his mom and would not go. I stole the ring he was wearing to make him come to me to retrieve it. I did not even tell him I took it. I went to sears and had pictures done, I made sure on the head shots that my hand was very visible because I was wearing the kidnapped ring. He didn't come back right away to get it. I was also upset because it was my fucking birthday. Not too long later is when we lost contact. I wrote and called but my letters never came back and the phone had been disconnected. It was years before I found him again. Actually he found me. I was hooked up with an online place called classmates.com and he contacted me. For roughly a year he would drive to see me at my apartment. We hung out a Dennys' and went shopping together. Because of his long absence I met someone new and had gotten married. My husband was a little threatened at first but after seeing for himself that he IS gay he let us go out and do what we wanted. The song 'unanswered prayers' became my song for simba and I. Now we don't ever get to see each other anymore. He lives north of me and every time I ask him to come see me his car has something wrong with it. I work 7 days a week. So it is very difficult for me to drive all they way up there. So we just play phone tag.

The female, Harlequin, was my associate here at work. She was the best I ever had. (Hmmmmm that sounds really dirty). The best associate I have ever had. But after I had corrupted her I figured she was not able to make enough money working with me and I requested she be moved to a managers position at another location. I know that sounds stupid but she was a single mother who had a car and a house. She needed the money to afford it all. She went with my husband and I to the bar to do Karaoke. Her and her boyfriend at the time, would meet us for dinner. I went with her, and Harley, her daughter, shopping for x-mas. I bought her daughter a necklace. We would sneak away from her mother or daughter to have a cigarette. Whenever she had vehicle issues I would be by her side trying to fix it or get her to where she needed to be. One morning I was late for work because she had ran out of gas. I had even drove out to the middle of no where picked her up and drove her to her car after our boss had gotten so wasted she couldn't drive herself. For her birthday I bought her purple naughty toys, and many other purple things. For my birthday she took me to an amusement park. I was her maid of honor, or as she called it the matron of honor. Though I should have turned it down. All of her bridesmaids would have been more suitable candidates. They had known her much longer than I had. I went through with it because she seemed so sincere about wanting me to be her maid of honor. Though I am really sucky at it. I threw her no party. Well sort of. We went to the cheesecake factory then to a bar. Where we sang karaoke, shot pool and they drank. They being the bride and one of her bridesmaids. Know one else was invited. I have not seen her since two days after my husband got out of the hospital. She works elsewhere now. Our hours are majorly conflicting. She works mon-fri 6am to 230pm and I work everyday 10am to 8pm. Soon to be 9am to 8pm. I told her that if she quit with pca we would have a hard time getting together. She said no, we found out I was right. Now we are phone friends. Just like Simba and I.

Nowadays it is like it used to be. Just me and my husband. Harlequin works so early in the morning that she cant have any late nights with me. Simba he lives so far away and works nights. That is why my husband is the best for me. He won't give me an excuse every time I want to do something with him. I know what his schedule is and when he goes to bed. I won't have to worry about him being mad if I don't feel like going out, cause we can always do something at home. And I won't have to wait for him to be late or not show up at all because I am most likely with him and leaving at the same time. All in all my husband is my best friend and that will never change.

Everyone is a little racist

Now I know this land was originally owned by the Indians and we invaded them, but we learned their ways. Then we came to be the minority. Now we are not even the minority. We crossed the ocean looking for spices. Everyone else crossed the border looking for a place to live. Probably because they bred themselves out of their own towns.

I have lived in this state since 1992. Roughly a year after I had arrived, I became a bit fearful of Hispanics, because there was 3 different gangs in the neighborhood, that all surrounded my parents house. Shootings all the time and not always at the other gangs either, they shot each other. It became hard to walk to a friends house or school without looking around every corner. I will not say that I am a full blown racist but I do hold a marker on certain races. I have many friends who are not white. In fact most of the people who work in the building I am in are spanish. Just from where I am sitting I only see one white person but her husband is Hispanic. Even the blacks are semi rare around here. Though in other states they are the majority. If you border Mexico you have a Hispanic problem. Kinda like roaches, or rats. My husband even has some really good friends that are Hispanic. I love them. My best female friend just married into a Hispanic family. I love her husband. But there are two kinds of Hispanics. There are the mexicans and the puerto ricans. You can tell them apart. The mexicans always look dirty, they stare at you, play there music at all hours of the night as loud as possible, breading like bunnies, and argue with anyone who looks at them. The puerto ricans are polite, willing to learn, work for their money, and always are clean shaven. The ones I am talking about in this blog... the mexicans.

M= messy
E= egotistical
X= xenodiagnosis (you got to look that one for yourself)
I= ignorant
C= careless
A= arrogant
N= nuisance

Now, I lived in Japan for a total of 6 years, it was 2 separate tours but I learned Japanese while I was there. I was only 7 the first time and 13 the second time. I learned their customs, took part in the festivities, and I listened to the their music. I even wore their ceremonial gowns. Now I am a civilian and back in the United States of AMERICA and I see more people here that don't speak the language than the ones who do. Even in Japan they attempted to speak english. Everywhere I go all I hear is baka baka baka. At work, the gas station, or even the theatres. It sucks walking into a McDonald's to place an order and you have to ask for a another cashier who speaks english. Or walking into a Target and you are the only white person in the place. Not only that, you see the kids in the store knocking stuff off the shelves or ripping off the wrapper to touch what is inside. I went to south Arizona on one of our snake hunting trips and we had stopped in Nogales, on the american side. I was looking for shoes that I desperately needed. I first walked into a payless. (This is a born and raised american store). As I looked up to see what isle I needed to be in, I found that it was not english. None of the sizes or signs were in english. We immediately left and went to K-Mart. It was the same thing. I stood at the front near the registers and asked each cashier if they spoke english. Only one did and barely. I asked her where Wal-Mart was. Yeah we got lost trying to find it. They can't even give good directions. We ended up waiting till we got closer to the city and bought my shoes american. At least the signs here were spanish and english.

Hell if your kids go to school it is a requirement that they take spanish classes. The spanish kids don't have to take english classes though. You can't get a good paying job unless you are bi-lingual. Most places pay five dollars more an hour if you also speak spanish fluently. Guess who is getting those jobs. Speaking of jobs. Try offering to mow your neighbors yard and a hispanic comes along and will do more for less. There went your fair money. Even the day labor jobs are scarce to come by. Unless you stand in the Home Depot parking lot your not going to get those pay per day jobs like, digging a ditch, painting a house, or even plow the fields. Even then your chances are slim because the other races will do it for half the price. And they cant seem to go anywhere without the whole family. You will always see them climbing out of the car, looking very similar to a clown car. It is not just mom, dad, and two kids. It will be mom, dad, six kids, the grandparents, and their brothers and sisters. You will notice that none of them had a seat belt on and none of the kids are in car seats. Is like they can't have two kids and be done and they must always travel in herds.

Even in my profession I have to deal with the no english customers. I get frustrated. Most of the time I can not find a translator I can borrow for 15 minutes. Sometimes I am lucky enough to get them when they are making an appointment and I can tell them to bring a translator, preferably not a kid. If they can't I schedule them to return when my spanish associate is here or direct them to another studio. Lately they have been stupider than usual (which is saying alot) . They either bring the child translator or nothing at all and get mad at me because I can not speak spanish. I have learned enough spanish to explain certain things and complete one process. After that I need help. Even with my spanish they seem to be unable to comprehend what I am talking about. After a year of speaking it a customer notified me that there are two dialects of spanish the same as americans do. There is slang and etiquette. Obviously I am speaking etiquette. I learned from a spanish english dictionary.

It seems to me they have troubles comprehending things. I don't even know how most of them obtain some of things they get. Like driving. It is like they can't read what the signs say and do the speed limits that are in Mexico not here. They will pull out in front of cars going 40-70 miles an hour. Then they slow down to half of the speed limit almost causing them to get rear ended. (BTW in Arizona if you hit someone from behind it is your fault no matter what). They speed up to get in front of you when they are trying to get on or off the freeway then slow down way slower that the speed limit. What is funny is that when you drive by the person who just pulled out in front of you they are 90% of the time hispanic. Take a look for yourself. Wait til someone does something stupid in front of you. As you drive to get pass them glance over... I like to call them S.F.M's (stupid fucking mexicans). Then when you do pass them, you can pretty much bet they always look at you like it was your fault. They always have to stare at you, it is not a glance or checking you out. Whether they are in there car driving or sitting in front of a business they stare. They will watch you from the time you get out of your vehicle until you have walked inside. Even the kids do it. You will sit at a restaurant and their kid will stand on the seat look over the back of the chair and watch you eat. I know I am funny looking and over weight but they don't have to stare.

I have been working since I was 15 just to afford a life especially a vehicle. I am now 31 and I just got a car of my very own last year. It is in my name and I am the primary driver on it. If it was not for my husband I would still be living in apartments. I acquired my house 7 years ago. Now these hispanics. Fucking Hell. They come to the US and immediately they have a 2 story house, 2 cars one being an escalade, get food stamps, state assistance and all they do for work is day labor from the Home Depot Parking lot. But not only do they cross the border illegally they also bring all 7 of their kids, their kids-kids, their grandparents from both sides, and their brothers and sisters. I can't even get food stamps. I am scrimping and saving just to have food in the house and pay my electricity. How fucking fair is this?

When your watching the news and you hear about a dumb ass that walked into a business during business hours to rob them. Or sticking up a bank or quicky mart without disguising themselves. Gas station explodes when driver takes off with fuel pump still attached. Finding children wandering the streets only in a diaper. (This one I don't get when every hispanic has 8+ people living in the house.) They are all hispanics. How bout the ones you see in person. A man reaching his hands into the ice machine instead of using the ice dispenser. Kids climbing on dangerous things or playing where they are not supposed to and the parents not scolding or making them leave. Watching the kids do something wrong and just ignoring it. Clearly seeing a road is closed or the doors to a store are blocked off and going between the barriers and making there way through. Letting the kids stand in the shopping carts. Walking down the isle and pushing the cart to the right at an angle then looking at something on their left. Totally blocking the isle. Backing out onto the main road, not looking, and hit someone then run with their bumper dragging on the ground. Kids pushing their fingers into the holes of the soda dispensers. Jaywalking through a very busy street with two kids in a stroller and three more following behind. Dressing their children like tramps (short skirts, high heels, halter tops) and get mad when a someone looks at her wrong. Taking a piss out in the open on the side of a house or building. Kids sticking there fingers in the food at buffets or putting a piece of food in their mouth and throwing it back. Getting upset with people because they do not speak spanish. The kids standing in the back seat, or climbing from the front to the back while the car is in motion. No kids in car seats. Or they see someone waiting for a parking spot and because the person backed out toward them they steel the spot.

The black people here are not as bad but you can always tell where they are. Just listen to them talk. Not all are like this. There are two breeds of blacks. There are the ones who are like they are from the Bronx and the others who are not. The ones that are from the Bronx are the ones that talk VERY LOUD. It is like they are always in a crowded room and are trying to out talk the noise. Even in theatres they talk loud. They all have to swear, and they all start a confrontation with anyone. They like to play music as loud as they can get it in the middle of the night so people can hear it in there sleep. The other blacks are more composed. They have manners, and are polite.

As you can see mexicans and Bronx blacks have allot in common. I am pretty sure that I am going to piss off allot of people. But you know what kiss my ass. I bitch about it every single day, and now I got it in here. Anyways, It is like trailer trash version and middle class. Even the whites are marked. So we are not perfect either. I am no where close to being trailer trash, but I AM better than the ones mentioned above.

I do it for you

I know that this blog is going to make me sound whiney but this is my blog and I will write what I want. Just like in all my other blogs I am speaking my mind, and this one is about how I give to all and do everything else that everyone wants to do and I get nothing. There are alot of things that I want in my life. Every time I want to accomplish them or obtain them I end up giving everyone else what they wants instead. It has been like this my whole life. Not only with my husband but with everyone. Is like love and friendship dominates my wants.

Back in highschool, I would have plans to do something with my boyfriend, that I have been wanting to do, or planned for, and if he wanted to do something else, then boom we were doing what he wants to do. I never complained or even spoke up about my wants. I just went with the flow. My friends would ask me what I wanted to do and I would mention something that interested me, they would go along with it and at the last minute find something else to do. I would also buy extra for lunch to share with other people, but knowone would return the favor. I would buy candygrams for many people and none would come to me. I always give....

After highschool,the guys I dated,which was not many,I surrended to their needs. I would want to have Taco Bell and they would chose filibertos (yuck). I would want to stay home and watch a movie they would want to hang out at a friends house. I would want to have a romantic night they would want to go to the bar. It was basically here that I didn't bother trying to do what I wanted to do anymore. I let everyone else make the decisions and they attached the leash. I am a a really giving person. When it is not a gift giving day I am still buying gifts to show the person how much I care about them. Something to brighten their day. It may be something small or something huge depends on what it is and how far away certain days of celebration are. But I am always thinking of someone else when I go anywhere. 'my mother would love this doll, how much is it'.

It is the same now in married life. But now when I am looking at stuff I am thinking, 'my husband would want this, how much is it.' When it comes to going places, yeah he asks me what I want to do but then says no. Reasons... it is too far away, we don't have enough money, that is the other direction, I don't feel like that, why don't we just..... and I surrender immediatly. I am not one for confrontation. Though my husband will dispute that, I am confrontational towards him all the time, according to him.

I will go, as far as going somewhere that I don't want to, or visiting someone that I dislike, just to be with him. To a degree that is certain people I WILL NOT go out with. If I don't go I will end up sitting at home all day and night alone. For instance... I am not that fond of the food place Chipotle or In N Out, he gets to eat at these places once or twice a week. I will go there and find something to eat because that is what my husband wants to eat. I don't like stupid comedies like Naked Gun and Delta Farce but I will watch them because my husband wants to. And I am not as excited about snake hunting. I do enjoy it sometimes but only during the good seasons when you actually see stuff. He likes to do it all year long, every single day, from sunset to sunrise. At the movies I say I want to see a certain movie and he will say people are saying so and so movie is awesome. That is where we will end up. I see my movie when it is comes out on tv.

I have stuff I like to do and places I like to go. I love thrill rides. I am addict towards fairs and such. Every year I would go to the fair and spend a whole day there. Now I am lucky if I get to go every couple of years. My husband only likes roller coasters. Anything that goes backwards or upside down he will not get on. So I am usually stuck riding with a stranger. The last time I went was like 3-4 years ago and I took my brother just so I could I ride with someone I knew. I enjoy horseback riding. Horses are my favorite animal. I used to go every year in July now it is every 4-5 years. I like swimming whether it is down the river, in a pool, or at a lake. Now it has to be a group activity that is planned roughly every 2 years. I love watching cartoons and kids shows. Now I only do that on my days off when my husband is not home. He got upset one day because I watched nothing but cartoons and animal shows. Now when he is home I am watching the news and regular tv shows.

Just once a year I want to indulge in my activities. Once a year I want to go horseback riding, once a year I want to go to the fair, once a year I want to go swimming. Many times a year I want a gift from out of the blue, for no reason, just for me. One I don't have to start a fight or ask for to get. I want flowers.... I know I said that I didn't care about them but I want the other people to be jelous that the love of my life loves me and he is not scared to show it. I want a suprise visit at work, just to have lunch or tell me that he loves me. I want to partake in my activities without having to drag someone else along. I want for me for once. Gimmie!!! I give everyone everything they want, when do the favors get returned.

Knowing my husband as well as I do. He will read this blog and then do something I want to do. He always does this. This is one of my ways that I get him to buy me stuff. I start a fight or mention it to someone and within a few days I got a surprise. Or I get to go somewhere I wanna go. Anyways that is my wine fest.

DOING TIME...... in the hospital

My husband was admitted into the hospital Saturday morning on September 22nd, 2007 at 6:30am. I have been there by his side for most of it. Here lets play this out properly.

Sunday September 16th my husband was having bad neck pains. I attempted to massage them out and make him as comfortable as possible, to no avail. We had to go to a wedding that day so I was really hoping he would be able to take pictures for us. Which he did. As we drove to the wedding he was still complaining about his neck. I explained to him that all I had were my stomach pain killer called tramadol. He said gimme and I did. About 15 minutes later he started getting nauseous. He asked me if they were supposed to be taken with food and I said no. Thankfully he did not throw up. The nauseousness thankfully died down but he still had neck pain. After the wedding as we drove home he got that throwing up feeling again and ended up stopping at his grandmothers so he could vomit. Which he did not. We visited for awhile and I told him to undo his pants to relieve the pain. Which it did make him feel better. Then we went home with me driving.

Next morning he was feeling fine. No issues. Tuesday morning no issues. Tuesday night we went to the movies and saw 3:10 to Yuma. Then Wednesday he got up feeling a little blah and had high blood sugar. He went to work at 10am but they sent him home at noon. I came home at lunch, which is at 2pm, and brought him some Clariton and diabetic tussin (thinking he was getting a cold and would start coughing soon since that was what was going around). I also had him take my 600mg ibuprofen. When I came home, at 7:30pm, we ate dinner and watched TV. He started to get the chills. To the point where his whole body was vibrating and nothing warmed him up. I gave him another ibuprofen. A couple minutes later we went to bed at midnight and he was shivering so bad that I ended up making him put on sweat pants and sweat shirt, socks, and a ski cap on his head. (I later found out that was not helping him).

Thursday morning he woke and was feeling semi fine. I had him take a clariton and an ibuprofen before he left. Around 4 p.m. he started to get the chills again. He took a jacket from one of the guys at work so he could warm up. He ended up leaving work a half hour early. When he got home I told him to take one of my 600mg ibuprofen, and put the sweats back on. I brought home an ear thermometer, and some food. His temperature was 102.4. This is when he had started coughing. I had him take his diabetic tussin. We ended up going to bed early because he was not feeling well.

Friday morning he woke up I made him take the cough syrup, the clariton and some ibuprofen, and he went to work still not feeling all that well. He worked the whole day and came home still not feeling well. When I got home he met me outside for a cigarette. As we were walking back inside he said that his back itched and had me look at him. Even though he was facing the light and his back was in a shadow I saw bumps on the small of his back. Walking inside I turned on the light and looked more carefully. The bumps were going from the small of his back all the way up to the middle of his back. The looked like a group of mosquito bites that had just been scratched. He then raised his right arm and asked me if it was the same thing under his arm. I said yes. I stated we should go the emergency room (chills and a rash not good). He then proceeded into the bathroom to look for himself and check his neither region. He found more under his left arm. Sitting on the couch he got a feeling on his leg and when he pulled down his pants he found another series of bumps, on his inner right thigh, that were not there before. Thinking a little more clearly I decided to call the 24 hour nurses hot line that is provided by my company. While he was on the phone he took his temperature 100.8 and checked his blood sugar, it was normal. After talking to my husband for about 30 minutes and asking him different rounds of questions, they told him he needed to see a physician within the next 4 hours. Being that it was 9:00pm we new that only meant the emergency room. I immediately called worked and notified my boss what I was doing. Giving her well over a 12 hour notice.

Arriving at the emergency room at 9:10pm we checked in and sat down. Around 9:45 pm they did his vitals and asked him what he was in for. His temperature was 98.8. He explained everything. The nurse looked at his rash then told him to go have a seat back in the waiting room. But not before telling me that bundling him up did not help the chills. The chills are your body trying to remove the infection by cooling you down from the temperature. By bundling him up it was trapping in the heat. Deciding this was stressing him out he told the nurse that he was going to go out for a cigarette, but she told him that they would be calling him at any minute. He said he would only be gone for 6 minutes and she said he would not be waiting that long. While sitting and waiting to be called he got the chills again. My best female friend came to the emergency room with her husband and they hung out til he was called back. We took turns having cigarettes so that we would not miss having his name called. They called him once around midnight and took him back for a chest x-ray, then brought him back to the main waiting room.

It was 1 a.m. when they finally called his name. All they did was move him to another waiting room where he sat for 30 minutes. Then took him into the next room and checked his vitals again. Which he did have a slightly higher temperature. They poked him twice one for an IV and the other for blood. Well the first one was supposed to be blood and IV but the vein would not release any blood. Asked him again why he was there today and being told again to go and sit in another waiting room. In this room he broke down in chills again. Because covering him up is not the right approach I draped my legs over his and his head rested on my chest using my body heat to keep him slightly warmer.

It was 3am (6 hours after we had arrived) when he was finally moved to a bed where a nurse.. once again.. asked what he was there for. (How many times must he tell the story)? She wrote down the information and left him there til the doctor arrived. At 4:00 am the e.r doctor showed up and asked him what he was doing in the e.r. (Do they not write down what you tell them)? After telling her, he requested 42 units of lantus (a medication he takes every night to level his blood sugars) because he was so late taking it. She ignored him. She had said she looked at his x-ray and that it looked like pneumonia but she wanted to order a cat scan, he left for that not to long after. Bringing him back to the bed he waited around until around 5:45am when the e.r nurse said that he had an interesting case of pneumonia. Most pneumonia is supposed to be on one side of the lungs in the middle. His was all over the far sides of his lungs. She explained that she was going to release him and give him some antibiotics. But if there was ANY changes to return back to the emergency room immediately. I wanted to know what the rash was cause it had already been concluded it was not a fever rash. Some of the nurses called it hives. Fifteen minutes later she came back and said 'my conscience won't let me discharge you... we are keeping you over night.' Tears started to well up in my eyes. Suddenly we felt like we were in an episode of house. I went out and had a smoke and cried. I didn't like that her conscience wouldn't let him come home. Another doctor came down and talked to my husband about his x-ray and what they would be doing to treat it. He asked this doctor for 42 units of lantus and he told my husband that he was in a hospital they would take care of him.

At 6:15am they came to retrieve him and take him upstairs. Immediately upon arriving he was asked what he was in for and they took his vitals. Again they look at the rash but don't know what it is or how it was caused. Now I know they are not telling each other what is going on. In fact every nurse that came in the room asked him why he was there. DON'T THEY LOOK AT THE CHARTS? What do they think he was going to do make his rash go away and stop coughing the minute he got admitted. Say that he was just faking it. He asked again for the lantus and they said they needed to talk to the attending doctor. Basically blowing him off. But at least 3 people explained the perks of the hospital. This place was basically the Ritz Carlton of hospitals. Every room is private, with it's own direct phone line to the room, every room has a TV with webtv, Ethernet Internet hookup, and wireless Internet (except my husbands his didn't seem to work). Along with that, visitors can come at all hours to visit. They even had a couch that turns into a bed for people (like me) who stay all night. Though for the first two days and nights I was sleeping in a chair directly beside the bed, so that I would move every time he did. This hospital also provided room service from 7am to 7pm. He was able to order anything that he wanted off the menu for free including crab legs which did cost a little something extra.

At 7:00 am I went downstairs to have a smoke and call my boss. I had already been up for twenty-two and a half hours and had not eaten for over 16 hours. I really didn't think I was going to survive even 4 hours at work. I was already doing the drunk walk and had a very thick country accent. ( something I get every time I am overly tired) I went back upstairs to see that the nurse had found some cereal for my husband and a very stale and super dry sandwich for me. Thank god she did get me some orange juice though. I ate half the sandwich and threw the rest away I just could not choke down anymore. They checked his blood sugar and found it to be through the roof. (In the 300's). They panicked and he explained that if he would have been given the lantus it would not have been so bad. They also gave him all kinds of other medications. They had him take pills for indigestion and to relax his muscles, along with something to ease something for when he laying on the bed all this time. So they were making him take pills, inject his stomach, and put stuff in his iv. Most of it to counteract an effect on one of the other medications. After they finally left us alone my husband and I passed out. But it was a restless sleep. Every time we would fall asleep they would come in to poke and prod. A hospital is definitely not a place to relax. First it would be the vampires, then 15 minutes later it would be testing his blood sugar, then another 15 minutes later they would be bringing him some humalog to bring down the high blood sugar. Which he would gripe about because it was there fault it was so high. Then nothing for 15 minutes and another round of pokes would come. This happened all day and all night. A doctor came in and talked to him about his pneumonia's and said he also had valley fever. (Valley fever is a bug that lives in the dirt on the west coast. When it is windy or you kick up dust the bug releases spores into the air that get into your lungs. Most people who have been here for awhile and natives usually don't get it. Mostly it is visitors.) So now we had a two for one deal to cope with. That night they only gave him 21 out of the 42 units because he was having a procedure done the next day and they did not want him having a low sugar reaction. That of course set him off. And of course another day of high sugars.

During our stay at the Ritz banner, he was visited by a few doctors. Each asking what was wrong. Each looking at the rash. He would explain everything know one really seemed to care about his rash it was the crap in his lungs that concerned them. The lung specialist was talking to him Saturday morning and wanted to get him in immediately for the bronchial scope but because he had eaten they had to wait til the next morning. My best female friend and her husband stopped by and hung out for roughly an hour. They offered to let my husband use their laptop during his stay. They said they would run home and grab it with some movies and come back by. They returned about an hour later and we were fast asleep. Later in the evening I went home and took a shower, fed the cats, packed him a bag and got something to eat. I was gone 3 hours, when I only meant to be gone 1. By this time all family and friends were aware of where my husband was and what was going on. You would think we repeated the story enough to the nurses and doctors! Now we had all his friends and family and my 2 friends and family. One friend didn't even ask him if he was OK he asked him if he gotten the tickets for weird al yet. Another friends wife wouldn't let him come see my husband because she was afraid he would come home with a disease and make her sick. She has heart issues. Yeah he has a great friends. I kept sending updates to everyone every time something new happened. The one who was the most freaked out was his little brother that lives in Hawaii but was training for Iraq in California. He wanted me to get his doctor to contact red cross so that he could get away from there and come here. The doctor told me no because it was not yet a life threatening situation.

Sunday morning they did a bronchial scope, and said they would know the results on Tuesday. When they took him away I went downstairs to have a cigarette and call my boss again to try and get my co-worker to work for me all day instead of just in the morning. When I came back up the nurse said they wanted me to be in the waiting room where the procedure was taking place, so that I would be there when he came out of the sleep. She explained how to get to the waiting room, which was located on the east side of the building. I walked down the hall she told me to but the doors were locked. I walked down the hall in the west side and they were locked too. I returned to the east hall and paced the hallway till someone came out. Eventually his lung doctor came out. I explained to him that I was supposed to be in the waiting room but could not get into it. I could not even access the hallway that was before the waiting room. He said the doors are usually unlocked and that he was locked out too. We walked around to the west hall and his door key would not work let him in, he attempted to call a nurse inside who was currently working on my husband. A transport came through (a person who moves patients throughout the building) and got the door open immediately. We fallowed him in. I sat in a very large room and cruised around looking for something to do and a bathroom. Why do hospitals and doctors offices only have doctor magazines, women's magazines, and home development magazines. What ever happened to readers digest? And why are the bathrooms always outside the room and down the hall. Anyways I found a remote and turned on the TV where I sat and watched morning cartoons. About 15 minutes later they came and escorted me to my husbands bedside. He was out cold. I talked to the nurse and him to get him to wake up. They needed him to breathe on his own at a certain oxygen level before they would take off his mask. Once he started to come more out of it he explained they did not fully put him out for the procedure because his oxygen levels were not that great and they did not want him to need assisted breathing so they only put him somewhat out. He told me that they sprayed his throat with latacane and began shoving the tube down his throat. He began choking and they told him to take deep breaths. (which is what I was telling him too when he came out of it to get his oxygen back on level). From what I was told it was a bit difficult to insert the tube because he was fighting it. I think I would have been fighting it too. I don't even like sticking my finger down my throat. Anyways we sat there in the recovery room for 30 or so minutes waiting to take the mask off. He talked to me saying the wanted to go back to his room, I kept saying no. Finally we returned to the room. As we got him settled back into his room one of the nurses told me he had a guest waiting in the room beside the elevators. I asked them to describe her and I immediately thought it was his mother. Found out that it was his friends mother. I escorted her into his room and left to call work and get something to drink. Oh and smoke. I had asked my boss if I could have Monday night off. She said another associate would be able to work for me after lunch. I was ecstatic. As I was getting back on the elevator I caught his mother and grandmother heading down the hall. I stopped them and escorted them up to his room also. His friends mother left about 10 minutes later. The other two only stayed for about a half hour. That was the last of his visitors til late Tuesday night. They did finally give him the correct dosage of lantus, and he took over the amount of units he was taking for the humalog. I called my boss again to verify I would be off at 2pm and she said yeah we were still on. At 11:30pm that night I went home. I new I would not be able to stay the night, get a good nights sleep and work for 9 hours the next day. I started crying again. I was terrified that something was going to happen while I was away. So I slept with my phone on a super loud ring.

I got up at 7:45am the next morning, left at 8am, stopped at Circle K and got him some coffee, then arrived in his room at 830am. I found him missing. I asked the nurses where he was and they told me that he had gone to x-ray. I called my boss to tell her I would not be going in for the conference call but I would be on time for work, and to verify again that I was off. She then told me that I would have to work the whole day because my backup backed out. I was pissed. I waited for my husband as long as I could and was lucky enough to get to see him before I left for work. While I was there he told me that they may release him today it would depend on the x-rays. I asked what bout the results from the bronchial scope? He just shrugged his shoulders. I left for work at 9:40am. At 2:00 pm I would leave during my lunch to go be with him and get a progress report. I would leave to return for work 2:45pm. When I get off work I would immediately go see him and then go get something to eat. When I arrived my husband told me that the x-rays had come back and nothing had changed in his lungs. All the drugs they were pumping into him and no changes? Well he wasn't coming home any time soon.

Tuesday morning was a repeat of Monday morning. Except the bronchial scope results had come back. They found out that his rash that was on his legs, back and arms was also on his lungs. The doctor said that he had a rare case of allergic pneumonia. NO idea what the allergy was but hopefully this would cure it. They began pumping him with prednisone (steroids). At first it was 125 units. Then 40 units every 12 hours. We learned that prednisone causes an incredible appetite and raises your blood sugar. I guess when non diabetics are on it they watch their blood sugar too. They were not kidding. He was up in the 500's. While they are trying to drop it, he is eating, which makes them give him more units. I still came back during lunch. After work I came to see him, with food in hand. A visitor arrived about 30 minutes later. A friend from work had come to see him. The only one from work that had come to see him. He stayed for about an hour and went back home. I stayed til 11:30pm and then I went home also.

Wednesday morning I continued my regular morning routine. I guess he had just returned from another round of x-rays. While I was visiting his doctor said that he was acting to healthy to be in a hospital and should be released sometime today. I immediatly called my boss but could not provide her a time. Then of course my phone company started screwing up and all my messages I sent after that, not one of them arrive til the next day. I actually thought my boss was ignoring me. I went and visited him again for lunch, hoping they would give him to me. They told me he was definetly being released today sometime soon. I went back to work and at 4:30 he was released from the hospital. Of course that is when everyone decided to show up to take pictures and pick up their pictures. So I called my best female friend to go and get him for me. After everyone was done in the studio, I wrote a note and placed it on the counter saying I had to leave it was emergency, and shut the place down. My friend drove him home then came back to my work and gave me his perscriptions, prednisone and levaquin. I picked them up and went home to find him missing. I called him and he said that he gone to work to do some paperwork that needed to be done by Friday. I asked him why he couldn't just wait til tomorrow but he started bitching. I drove to his grandmothers and waited for him to pull into the driveway. We sat at her house for awhile then went and got something to eat. At home we argued about when he should start taking his meds. I won finally. I figured since they gave him his final dose of meds around 330pm he should wait 12 hours before taking it again. It would also keep him on a schedule I can monitor.

From day one we have been trying to figure out what he had new that he was allergic too. At first it was the starbucks double shot frapachino with splenda. He had, had 4 the very first Sunday. Tuesday or Wednesday he had a grape leaf? I made him chef boy r dee macaroni stuff. But Wednesday night after he had gotten out of the hospital we found 2 more things that he could have had an allergic reaction too. One was the clariton that he asked me to get for him on the first Wednesday, the second could have been the tramadol I gave him on the first Sunday. Thinking of it now he had never had that high of a dosage of ibuprofene before either. So any one of those things could have made him sick. Or it could be something new at work that one of his co-workers is wearing or has on their desk. He is scheduled to see an allergist sometime in November. He went to see his diabetes doctor and they told him to increase his nighttime dosage and split it into two. Take 20 in the morning and 30 at night.

As of today October 4th he is off the levaquin and has 4 more days with prednisone. Now if they can just fix his bitchiness when he bloodsugar is high.