Wow. You have got to be kidding me. I haven't written in this thing for three years???? What the hell have I been up to? Hmmmm . . . . a few things . . .
I'm contemplating forclosure after a cluster f**k with the "servicing company" otherwise known as Indy Mac. The grief, the horrible grief . . . hard to imagine unless you're going through it, or you've been there. I suppose we'll all be out of here and maybe somewhere in Camarillo by December . . . unless there is a Miracle, but mortgage companies don't lend themselves to miracles. Lesson? Actually, I discovered that the Universe continues to work in mysterious ways. As I was crying while driving down Topanga, I looked up and saw a huge billboard: "MOVING IS THE BEST MEDICINE." Granted, it was advice for arthritis sufferers, but how appropriate!! And then the clincher, today, at Dumetz and Canoga, a sign on the local church: "Joy comes not from owning things, but from the people you love." Isn't that more than simply synchronicity? THAT, my friends, was a sign.
Also, regarding my ever-expanding obsession with my aging face, I started some "Refirme" treatments, but no more fillers. Here's a pic of me now:
I don't know if I look older, younger, the same, whatever. I do know that the new issue is sagging skin under my neck, which is why I am doing three more Refirme treatments before I give up.
Now before you accuse me of rampant superficiality, I am doing volunteer work in Long Beach with Pastor Bell, I founded a paranormal group that I maintain and nurture in spite of the drama, I take care of an emotionally delicate teenager, I run my household, I teach until I can't see straight and intervene to help my students in every way, and I take good care of my family, friends and furry and feathered companions. Plus, I've had a hell of a last few months.
I added a job at CSUCI, then lost it; I was hospitalized for a mystery illness that kept me interned for 5 days; my dearest one suffered a complete emotional breakdown and confessed to horrible, unimaginable things that broke my heart into a thousand pieces; my husband was downsized; we're losing our house; the "big show" for the Paranormal Housewives never materialized, and I suspect we were greviously used; Kenny died in July of 2010; but . . . . ANGELINA was born in June of 2011, and I was there that day, the 4th . . . and my parents are still healthy, if crazy. Ty and I are still in love. Nod is happy and fat, Bingo still drools his love all over me, and Gracie bites less.
There's just too much to say here. Too much. Maybe I'll write more later, if anyone cares. Or even if they don't.