Books [AtoZChallenge]

BI’ve mentioned it in a earlier post that I’m working on downsizing, decluttering the house. I’ve always had a thing for books. Though I have difficulty sitting still long enough to finish the book. I also have difficulty retaining the information that I just finished reading. I love to collect books.

I like self-help books, gardening books, reference books and books that help me better understand myself. After my motorcycle accident in 2004 I read a lot of religious books. I was searching for the answer to that question of “Why am I still here?” I no longer look at my faith the same as I did back then. So most of those books are in the donation pile.

Today I went to the local library for one of their book sales. All books were 25 cents!! What I was shocked to see, was a few people with their cell phones in hand grabbing the information on the book and to see if it was worth anything. Those few people had boxes full of books. Why? Why are they planning on selling them for a higher price for a profit? I had been at the antique mall, seen a booth selling old books. First editions wrapped in plastic for $200. I can understand selling a valuable book, but not from the library.

In my collection of books there are a few that I won’t give away. My friend Matt Beckoff wrote a book “Confessions of a Scream Queen” and he gave me the autographed copied from Betsy Palmer. She is Jason’s mother from Friday the 13th Slasher horror movies. I am also keeping the books that were given to me by the authors when I was doing some interviews on my podcast.

B is for Books

My concern is that my “keep” pile is still larger than the “donate” pile. I will have to look through those again. I have a pile of books that I’m planning on reselling, maybe 10 of them.
Here are a few podcasts of interviews with some authors and discussing their books.

Alexandra Clair – Wood’s End

Francine L Trevens – IMAGICS and other family stories

Kimberely Johnson & Ann Werner – The Virgin Diaries

Joni James Alrich – You’re Not Alone

Jodi Ambrose – Intimacy How to get more of it

Frankie Picasso – Midlife Mojo

Not every author sent me a copy of their book. The ones that did I will keep. I had fun doing those interviews. However, I will admit that when I was first starting out doing those podcasts I really didn’t know much about doing interviews. Some of the books I did have difficulty reading and understanding. It was fun at the time.

I really want to be finished sorting through all my books by Monday. Wish me luck!

Follow, Read and Comment [AtoZChallenge]

Since I’m trying to take this A to Z Challenge a bit more seriously this year. I’ve decided to read some blogs on the list. Comment some of the posts that I’ve read, wish them luck and if I liked what I read I am following the blog.A2Z-BADGE [2016]

Most of the blogs on the list, I think are pretty general, mainstream. Unlike the sex blogs that I’m used to reading. Also, I think when those bloggers read my posts, most click the like and move on. That’s ok. I don’t feel the pressure that way. That I might scare them off once they start reading.

On the A to Z Challenge website there was a post about comments. Below is from that post.

*Daily blog posts.

*Responding to comments received on daily blog posts. Optional, but recommended.
*Visiting and commenting on other participants daily blog posts. Optional, but highly recommended.

Comments. Everyone wants them. I’m afraid (sometimes) to leave them. Fear that what I wrote might be misunderstood in some way. But this year I’m going push myself harder, to leave comments. Read a variety of diverse blogs. I will be reading my follow sex bloggers, those that are participating in this April Challenge.

So far, I’ve only found Marie Rebelle.

In addition to her blog I have found a few more to follow and that I found sparked an interest.

Tales from the Cabbage Patch. She got my attention when her first post is about Assholes. Because my Liege had suggested that I write about that topic. There is something about what Linda has to say that makes me curious.

Rag Giggagon. Richard’s blog is a bit of everything, which I like.

Jennifer Nicole Wells. She is a photographer. I wanted to follow someone who is taking photos for this challenge. Her photos did catch my eye. I’m curious about what else she will bring to this challenge.

Deena’s Day. Her theme grabbed me and I’m riding this blog until the end. Her theme is the 80’s and that’s one of my favorite decades.

I am My own Island. Angela blogs about improving her life & accepting her mental illness.

Antiques [AtoZChallenge]

When I was younger I hated antiques. Why?

Well because it was old stuff!

Now I love to walk around the antique stores around town. Looking at all the old stuff that brings back memories of my childhood. Maybe that’s it, couldn’t appreciate the old stuff until I became older myself.

antique table, chairs, dishes

Some of the antiques are worth a lot of money. Other stuff, I think people want to get rid of it because its something they own that is taking up space for them. I notice that some people try to buy up old stuff at garage sales and then try to turn around to sell them at a higher price at these antique malls. It’s fun to look through some of the items, relive the memories it all brings back. There are a few times I will buy something. I bought a ceramic flower-pot for 75 cents. A bag few of smooth rocks, I’m going to paint them. A wooden bowl for 50 cents. Not antique stuff, but items I am planning on using for my summer’s crafts.

antique ashtrays

As you can see by the banner I am taking part in the A to Z Challenge this April. I don’t have any specific direction for the challenge. I’m taking each day as it comes. Maybe I will have something to write, maybe I won’t. BUT I am not limiting myself to writing. I am also using photographs in this challenge.

I am also taking photos for this challenge. Follow along here. There may not be professional photos, but the A to Z stuff is there!

Here’s to wishing everyone good luck in this A to Z Challenge!

A2Z-BADGE [2016]


Young at Heart

Sometimes. Sometimes I think I act too much like a little kid than the adult that I am. I’ve been told that I am “Young at Heart.” Not saying that I am immature, I just act young. Sometimes, it’s not always a good thing. My mother always told me “society will eventually mold you into what they expect or want you to be or how to act.”

Yes, I can see that. I go to work and I dress differently from the other drivers. I wear leggings, boots, over-sized sweaters. I wear lots of skirts during the warm weather. However, some of those women have an issue with my dress. “She dresses too young for her age.”

The old men don’t seem to mind. But those Christian women do. I should act my age.


I act silly. Talk silly. Dress youthful.

I think that keeps a person young at heart. Not to be embarrassed to act silly, to laugh at oneself. Keeps the mind young, the body young.


I was taught that a girl’s virginity was something special. Taught to believe that it was to be given to someone who loved me.

I was not the girl that was invited to boy-girl parties. I was too thin, glasses and buck teeth. Flat chested and had no clue about sex.  I was a late bloomer.

All during high school, I was not that girl who got any attention. If I did get noticed by a guy, I missed it. I had fallen in love with someone when I was 13 years old. He moved away, I hadn’t heard from him in years. I had saved myself for him in hopes that one day he would come back for me.  Our parents had other plans.

Most of my class mates already had sex. I was growing restless. I had waited as long as I thought I could. My best friend, who attended a different high school introduced me to a boy she thought would make a great boyfriend. We were so awkward. He was kind of nerdy (nerdy wasn’t cool back then). I was still skinny, braces and glasses girl. He was a virgin and so was I. One night we were discussing sex while watching a movie. I remember I looked at him and something like “we should exchange our virginity’s.”

I only wanted to give my virginity to someone only if I get theirs in return. I thought that I would never see my first love again. Besides I was almost 18 years old. It was Homecoming night, DS & I had planned to have sex. I still remember where, when and how painful it was. I thought “its got to get better than this with more practice.” I also remember that my father was waiting in the living room when I walked through the front door. I tried not to walk funny, but oh my god it hurt! Nothing like a painful dry fuck. We didn’t know shit about sex. Mostly just that that goes in there!

When my first love finally returned home I told him “I waited for as long as I could for you, but you never wrote me.” He replied “I’m glad you stopped waiting.” We spent most of that summer making love & hardcore fucking. Some of my best sex experiences were with him.

What I found more amusing was years later, my new best friend’s brother (who was in the service). He met a guy from his hometown on base. They got to talking, he told my friend’s brother he had dated a girl who was different from the other girls he dated. Because the girl wanted to exchange their virginity’s. My friend’s brother asked what the girl’s name was. The guy told him, the brother cracked up laughing. “That’s my sister’s best friend and I see her every time I go home on leave!” The brother asked me if it was true. I said yes, that I didn’t wanna give my virginity to some guy as his conquest or a prize. I wanted something in return for it. He said “yeah, DS was right, you’re not like other girls, that’s weird. Like a business transaction.” Yeah, to me it kinda was. It my declaration of sexual freedom. I wanted to practice, because practice makes perfect.


I hate God & Unions.

Today I have been busy cleaning out my office file cabinet for my move into a smaller room in the house. I have saved so much paper work. And for what? It’s an emotional thing when I have to look through these papers and decide what to toss out and what to keep.

Papers like my grandparents death certificates, their power of attorney papers, the last Christmas card my grandfather gave me. Newspaper articles about my younger days of being a single mother getting off welfare. Then there is all my lawsuit files. Yes, upon a time this little kitty had a great job. I sold my soul to Satan for the money. It was always about the money. Yet, it never seemed to be enough money. I used to think when the kids got older that we would be able to travel and have expensive toys and furniture. Nice furniture! Alas, it would not come to pass.

I fell down an emotional & mental pit. It was back in the winter of 2007. I went down that rabbit hole of anything to numb the pain. That job required me to take randoms due to IDOT regulations. I was on vacation for a week and the first day back I got a random. I knew it would be there might be a possibility that it could be positive. The worse part was confessing to my beloved. The result was negative, however my beloved suggested I use the Employee Assistance Program (EAP) for counseling. I recommend that if your company offers this program that you never use it. They so they are confidential but as I found out they are not. Find a private counseling center. I was told that I had to be assessed because I drive for a living and Illinois has strict rules on those sorts of things. I was immediately told I had to go into some sort of rehab assessment. I attended for two nights. I learned about grapes being made into wine. I was badgered about why I was there and how stupid I was for trusting the system to help me. Then during a group session I was escorted out of the building told that I had no insurance coverage.

I went to work the next day to find out about why I have no coverage. I found out that since I was an employee who married another employee I have no spousal coverage for certain items. This was one of them. Ok, next step. My employer & the EAP said I was required to attend some sort of rehab assessment program. On a negative drop. Wait? I went in voluntarily to counseling, yet I am being told I must attend some sort of rehab on a negative drop. Yes, I have all the paperwork to support this so far. I quickly contacted my union president, she informed me that she had everything under control. However, she didn’t. She lied. She refused to take my phones calls. She never filed a grievance on my behalf. This “Christian” woman lied to me, lied about me and others believed her. I wrote several letters to the head chapter of the union. I asked them to investigate this and I received a letter stating the they spoke with the president and she told them I denied her access to my file. Lies! My Beloved wrote a letter complaining about this behavior, another letter was received stating they saw no wrong doing.

This union has had its issue before. The previous president was indicted for embezzlement.  She even got to keep her job, work off all the money she had stolen with no jail time. When I started working there it was a good union, represented with some really good older male drivers. Those old guys knew what it meant to be in a union.  They knew what was important, but when I left there no one had any idea of what right & wrong is. Stealing money, lying about fellow union members, sleeping with the boss to get perks. Stuff that is in the movies, I thought that it only happened in the movies. Sad to admit, those union stories are real. There are so many other stories I could tell you about this company. The union stories! Everything from padding the ballot box to, padding the books. It’s crazy. What’s scarier than any horror movie is that general membership just goes along with everything. They no longer stand up for each other, for any injustice within that union. It’s all very sad to me. People know about what’s going on, the drivers are too afraid to say anything. The company is one of those “good ‘ol boys” kind of place, however those “good ol boys” liked to hire “yes” people.

I was the type of employee that would take in a tape recorder into the meetings with my supervisors & union rep. One time my supervisor said “no you can not have that recorder in here.” I said “well then no meeting.” He grabbed onto both ends of the table with his hands began shaking the table and screaming at me. I left the room walked across the street to the police dept and reported him for attempting to intimidate me with physical aggression. I was labeled as a trouble maker. I learned the first disciplinary meeting that the company fudged the paperwork. They wrote stuff that was false. I began recording the meetings to safe guard myself.

So, now we have a company forcing me to attend rehab on a negative drop with no earlier legal or behavior issues. And second we have a union that failed to properly represent me. And yes I have the letters between the president & myself about this issue.

I attended the rehab program at $8 a session for a few weeks. This is where the “poor people” go for rehab, those that are in legal trouble, DUI’s, drug charges, domestic offenders. It’s the place the judge sends you because you have hit bottom. Some hardcore guys in there, women who hasn’t seen their kids because they are strung out trying to get clean. Here I work a full-time job, own a house, cars, motorcycles and raising my kids. My legal record was clean. Nothing but a seat-belt violation.  I watched “The Secret” movie, you know after the book. I cut out photos of magazines and glued them to construction paper. I don’t even remember what the purpose was. I meant with my counselor there, she asked me “what are you doing here?” In that voice of disbelief & confusion. She basically did the assessment and said something like you can stay and finish the program but I see no need for that. She spoke with my Beloved, said I had a wonderful support system. She was the one who said “a marriage like yours does not work for every one.” That’s the one thing I learned in the time I spent there.

Upon finishing that program, my employer wanted to know the details about why I went to rehab.  What the outcome was. If I was safe to drive. Which,  if any,  substances I was addicted to. Is that legal? All on a negative drop and voluntarily counseling? Does anyone else see this wrong or is it just me being bitter? I haven’t felt like this in a while. Just re-reading all the documents brought it all up. I debated whether I should share this or not. I am always afraid of being judged then I thought “fuck it.” I did nothing wrong.

People often wonder why I stopped believing in God. Why I stopped being a Christian. This is why. God doesn’t exist in my life or in my world. A person can explain what ever they want to me about why this happened to me. However, my heart is hard and I no longer want to hear about God. Unions are another subject that I think is crap. I refuse to work for another union company. I have always worked for union companies. It was the way I was bought up. My grandfather fought to have a union, working for the Dept of Labor once upon a time.  This union is so corrupt, it has been rumored that the federal government is looking into the actions of the current president. The same dirty president who failed to do her job for me and the sheeple that work there continue to walk blindly around. I was told once that it was a setup to get me out of there because I talked too much. That I was uncontrollable, that I wrote everything down in my notebooks, took photos. That I could really cause them a headache if I wanted. I have no proof just what someone overheard while in the driver’s room, then told me what they overheard. Wouldn’t surprise me, the company has done it before.

Now, I sit here. Getting ready to toss out all it. Saying goodbye to an entire year that was wasted on this. If you’re wondering why I didn’t continue. It was because we were out of money. The company knew it would happen sooner than later. The plan was to go through the American with Disabilities Act first and through the Dept of Security. But since I have no documented legal or mental problems that had been recorded somewhere, that case was tossed out. We planned on suing, a hybrid case of suing a federal agency & a large union. It would have killed us financially. We tossed in the towel, thus I hate God. Am I bitter? At a God that I was forced to believe existed, yes I am. I hate the fact that once a parent brainwashs a child with that idea of a God and hard work and honestly pays off. It is almost impossible to cleanse the mind of it all. I prayed to God every day during my trial & tribulation that I was going through. I had faith that God would protect me, vindicate me, that justice would prevail. I know that God would protect me, because I knew that I was doing everything the company wanted. Except for one thing. The company wanted to know what I was “addicted” to. I wasn’t addicted to any thing. I wasn’t dependent, my counselor highlighted it for them.  God would protect me for any wrong doing, but my victory never came. My God had forsaken me? Doomed me to watch my beloved suffer,  to have to work two jobs. To watch my children lose their savings because we had to eat and pay bills. Where were all those Christians that we knew, to help us? They sure wanted our tithes to the church! I’m suppose to worship this God?! No thank you. I’m done believing.

It was a long story, now you know why I hate God & unions.


Back when my kids were little and I was a single mom, there wasn’t a lot of money to spend for clothes. Don’t even mention buying new clothes. I would get Thursday newspaper and mark the garage sales that were close my job so I could go during lunchtime. I would mark my calendar down for the big church sales.

I was driving past a new store. A very small shop, inside were kid’s clothes for garage sale prices. Adult clothes, new brand clothes. Shoes, some jewelry and miscellaneous items. All at very inexpensive prices. I ended up buying some jeans and a few other items. When I was checking out, the owner told me that they are always taking gently used clothes to re-sell. Oh Cool! Consignment thrift store.

That was over 13 years ago. The store has tripled in size and continues to make me some extra spending cash. I take in my old holiday decorations, books, shoes, clothes, a few small pieces of furniture. I end up just buying more clothes for myself. I used to use the money for vacation, kid’s clothes and anything else I needed the money for.

I still enjoy a good charity shop, Goodwill or Salvation Army shopping day. I recently went to my first $1.23 Goodwill sale. OMG. The parking lot was overflowing and cars were parked two blacks down the street. It was an experience that was insane. All the clothes are $1.23. I got a few items that the price tag was still on them. I know most of the brands of clothing, if it’s unfamiliar then I google it – quickly. I like some Old Nay, Apt 9, Somona (Kohl’s). Everything that was an article of clothing was only $1.23.  I wanted to take some photos of the shopping carts of some customers but I forgot in the midst of my own shopping. It was insane, the shopping carts were overflowing with clothes, to the point where the woman had to hold the top so it wouldn’t tip over when she turned the corner.

I view it this way, even it I only wear it one time. It didn’t cost me much at all. Verses spending $43 for it and slipping something on it and it’s ruined. Anyone can easily express their individuality and still be frugal, thrifty with their money.


I don’t like this emotion. I am glad to say that I have not felt this emotion in a very long time,  not in a way that would send me to my dark place. No rejection from a relationship in over a decade. Being rejected by possible employers, friends or my current co-workers does not impact my life the same as would a love interest.

It’s one of my issues that will send me spiraling out of control into my darkness & self-destruction. Experiencing any type of abandonment or rejection is not good for me. I will try any thing to keep myself from feeling those things. I can handle some small rejection, from people I don’t care too much about. When this is nothing in the relationship for me. Then I don’t care, however if I am getting feed a need that I so desperately crave. The rejection will knock me down hard.

Spiraling into the self-destructive impulsive behavior in attempts to ease the pain. I will over think the situation, pick it apart until there is nothing left but crumbs. Wondering what I did wrong? When it might not have even anything that I did at all. I will ease the pain of rejection through acting out. There are some things that I am truly ashamed of.  Those close to me tend to make excuses or allowances for my behavior. I think “god what a fucking psycho I am.” My loved ones say “she was just angry & hurt, we can cover this up, fix it and act as if it never happened.”

Upon the recent discovery of my issue, I didn’t want to admit to myself how deep the cut goes. Rejection is and can be mentally, emotionally painfully for me. However, not as much as a few other issues of mine. I look back on my childhood, accepting my cards.  I do get angry at my parents at times, but they had no clue on what to do with a child. They were children themselves.  Hind sight is always 20/20 because I’m sure they would have never had any children had they knew the outcome of it all.


1 2 3