I think I offend her, because I refuse to go on a statin or anything else. I also refuse to see a nutritionist, and NOW is not the time to quit smoking.

At any rate...she gave me antibiotics but refused to give me a diuretic even though every other doctor I've seen about this problem in the past, has. She "wants to make sure it's my heart first." Did an EKG, came out normal - not even a hint of my on-again off-again atrial arrhythmias. I probably inherited my ticker from my father who managed to abuse his till it finally gave out at 62. Drinking and weighing 500lbs will do that. I mean it; the man made me look positively skinny at 296lbs.

That's 296 with roughly 20-40lbs extra water weight, so that means I did lose weight and it wasn't a case of the waistband on my shorts wearing out.

She says to me "So what is the problem today?" I said "Renal failure?" She said "Why do you think that?" I held out my legs, which right now, look about as big as two stovepipes, and said "Well, look!".

SHE couldn't manage to get a pit in the edema but then again, she didn't push long enough for the fluid to move and MAKE the pit. I can get pits just fine.

They did get all excited when I answered most of their PTSD questions with a "yes". I had to add that I knew I had PTSD but it was security-related, not combat-related. The nurse asked if I wanted to see a shrink and I told her I already had one, just need to make a new appointment.

If it isn't my heart doing this then I have no clue what it could be. Kidneys infected? NO clue. Hopefully if it IS infection-related, the antibiotics will clear it out.

In the meantime I am sitting sideways to my desk, with my cordless keyboard across my knees, with my legs on a chair, waiting for M to return with my antiobiotics so I can take some then get some sleep.

Today, I find myself rather ill and more than a little concerned for my heart.

I have a tooth infection that abscesses. I break the abscess, wash out all the gook, hit it with mouthwash and peroxide, then I'm good for about a week. Except -

It is now in my system. I can feel it in my upper jaw, there's slight pressure in both ears, and at the base of my head. My lower sinuses keep gooping up.

Starting last week I began having periods of leg swelling. I've had this before but not for a number of years. I didn't worry about it before because I'd go to bed, the fluid would wash out of my system, and I'd get up the next day peeing like a racehorse. This time I'm worried because I've already had one bout where it did NOT clear overnight and today it's really bad, to the point my lower legs look like sausages.

I had called the VA clinic two days ago and they said they would try to get me in, only to call me back while I was sleeping and tell me I would have to make the 70-mi-one-way trip down to Sepulveda and see a dentist. The next day I was so tired I didn't bother calling them back. When I saw how bad my legs were today, I called right away in the morning, explained patiently that a 140-mile round trip wasn't necessary just to have a dentist put me on antibiotics and send me home - and besides, my legs look like sausages.

She got me an appt for 2:15. This means I won't get any sleep beforehand, but that's ok, I can sleep all I want afterward. I rather stay up and go get the drugs I need to get the swelling under control than ignore it and risk a possible heart attack because all this fluid is very hard on my heart, regardless of its original cause.
===
Last night M and I talked. Even though we have to start paying our loans back in June and we aren't even moved yet, we're doing ok. We've been very conservative with the money and have managed to save a little more than we borrowed. That means we have a war chest to pay the lawyer to fight this and buy us time.

At this point, we are also seriously talking about suing Ms. Goldenring after the fact - especially with my system finally saying "enough" and going completely haywire. Hell - I even spotted a little and I haven't menstruated in nearly a year. I can feel this affecting my MS and that worries me even more because I've started having trouble walking.

I don't want to know what my blood pressure is right now.

Today I spent thinking about how things change, how they stay the same, and how I don't feel as old as I am.

As of Tuesday, I'll be 52. "52" to me is old, stodgy, prudish. I'm none of those things and I doubt I ever will be. I look at my face in the mirror and ask "How did you get this old? Why does it feel like you've missed out on so much?"

I feel like I have so much more life to live...and, as long as I am walking this earth, I plan to live it.

That is...once I get a high-and-mighty bitch off my back. I have been avoiding wrangling with the credit bureaus after finding out that nothing I paid off cleared in a month as expected. It really twists my nose out of shape that they're quick to slap a debt on there and so damned slow (if ever) to take it off.

I think "How did I get here in this situation?" There are times I regret moving out of my house in Green Bay. I could've refinanced the mortgage, paid off all of my bills, put in new windows and a new garage door, put on a roof, and had Keith re-floor the kitchen and living room for me. That house was MINE and nobody could take it away...not like now. I guess the only thing that can be said is I got taken advantage-of and the nightmare isn't over, yet.

Never, since I purchased my first house in 1986, have I faced a situation where I could be thrown out of my house. Not. Once. I've always paid my housing, above and beyond any other bill I had. I have three paid-off mortgages under my belt.

But none of that matters, now. I wanted to move out west and I'm here. I got caught in a tough situation in 2006 and ended up the victim of a predatory lender, who borrowed money to purchase this place when he already owned it. Instead of working out a deal with me, he elected to foist this place off on the person he conned the money out of, and even though she doesn't have clear title to it, she thinks she can evict me.

Security has always been a central issue for me, starting back in my teens. I wasn't so much affected by my father skipping out on us, as by my mother suddenly becoming a raging, violent alcoholic. She'd always been my anchor in chaos and when she turned on me, I lost that. Even so, I didn't start displaying PTSD symptoms till after Rhod pulled what he did on me. He came home on a Wednesday and handed me his paycheck as usual. He came home the following night and informed me he was moving out and he needed the check back so he could rent a place. Just. Like. That. I found out later it was because his girl-on-the-side refused to part her legs till he moved out on me. Then I found out even later that he'd married me because all his friends told him not to.

*thunk*

I became a hermit for the next 4 years and about the only person I saw was my friend Keith, who refused to let me remain a hermit. Of course, when I stopped being a hermit I was thrown into another bad situation, but that's another story. Let's put it this way: Nobody gets to sit me on a chair and belittle me in front of others, ever again. Nobody gets to trap me and try to force me to make a decision in their favor, ever again.

Then there was M and T. M and I had stopped any sort of physical relationship pretty much since right before I moved west, but a part of me still hoped that something would change. Then T came along, and got invited in, and got everything I'd sat and hoped-for for the past some-odd years. I was devastated. I was angry. I was jealous, and I had cause. It threw me into such a state that my online relationship suffered and then fell apart. Suddenly I was alone and didn't feel I had anyone. Again. PTSD? That's an understatement.

Yes, I came through it and yes, M and I are still companions, albeit without any physical romance. Yes, I got back together with my online beau. Things sailed along just fine until we were dumb enough to put up the Oathbreaker, who then proceeded to steal us blind.

I am still angry over the loss of my family's years-long collection of silver coins but I know I'll never see them again.

Then, just as soon as we get rid of her for good, here comes the Holier-than-Thou-Runs-Off-To-Help-Impoverished-In-Mexico. Obviously she was "taken care of" from her birth all the way through her marriage, because she doesn't have a lick of horse sense. Yes, she ran off and joined the Peace Corps in her 60s, but so what? For all intents and purposes, she did it for the prestige. She may think of herself as altruistic but that altruism ends when it comes to a low-income, disabled person right under her own nose. I tried to work with the woman but because she doesn't have clear title to this mobile home, we were advised to ignore her. Well...she got herself one of the worst lawyers in the area and decided to sue to evict me from a house she doesn't even own. When her lawyer began his harassment I was thrown into PTSD again like there's no tomorrow, until I realized that the papers he was pasting on our front door weren't worth the ink they were printed with. And yet...here I am, and I will lose this house. I could fight for it and probably win, but why? Crack in the roof lets in rain and now there's mold in M's closet. The toilet in the front bathroom was never repaired correctly, resulting in some minor floor damage and a toilet that has to be flushed with a bucket. The cheap carpeting they put on the front steps wore out within a couple of years, and has had to be cut off and prepped for painting. I could go on, but what's the point?

The only point I hoped to make is that my basic security has been an issue for me for most of my life and no matter how many antidepressants I take or counseling I get, it always will be, until I am finally, once again, in a house I can call mine that isn't going to be taken away as long as I pay the mortgage...which I will always do, faithfully.

I do miss green. I was looking at a friend's pictures from Oshkosh, WI and sighing because everything is moist and green. I sincerely wish we could move somewhere where I can have that again but chances are we're going to either stay in this park or move to the one two parks down. Still in the desert, where everything is pretty much brown. I want green. I can still remember my friend from San Diego coming to visit us in Wisconsin years ago and remarking, time and again, how green everything was.

Ah well...I'm off to play a game. Enough thinking for one night.

I should make something clear lest I piss off friends and other readers -

I am not antisemetic. In fact, I'm part Jew.

My problem with Bette Goldenring is not that she's Jewish - it's that she acts like her heritage makes her somehow better than I am.

I don't care if you're Jewish, white, black, Christian, or a worshipper of the Great Spaghetti Monster - however, if you try to say that your heritage or beliefs make you better than I am - THEN I have a problem with you.

There's something else which came to light...

Prior to us moving in here, the Carrillo family lived here. We still occasionally get junk mail for both the husband and the wife.

If Norman "borrowed" 78K from Bette to "buy" this home - he defrauded her because he already OWNED this home. That also may prove to be a rather interesting point to kick around in court.

...the money Bette Goldenring were to save if she'd listened to me and not hired herself a bloodsucking lawyer who is doing things simply to extract more money from her.

That's right. We still don't have a mortgage. I'm harassing the gal from Wells Fargo, who hasn't answered me. Next I will flood her with telephone calls.

The things that have floored me this past week and a half are (a) took the wind out of my sails to discover that I have to do the work of the creditors to clear my credit history, because the bills I paid off are still listed as owing, and (b) the cats getting sick (we're up to 3 now but thank Goddess they're all recovering).

I am mentally exhausted inside.

We went to see our lawyer today and Bette's bloodsucking lawyer is doing a "discovery" on me - and why is he doing this? Goddess knows. To get more money most likely. After all, this is about the mobile home we're squatting in, not about any other assets I may have.

My lawyer's a smart one. He caught a rather glaring discrepancy in their original legal package and is exploiting it for all it's worth. Bloodsucker tried to get it dismissed, but the judge said no, there's enough here to go forward with it. My lawyer goes to another hearing sometime tomorrow, and we will chat on the phone afterward.

The discrepancy has to do with the security agreement not being struck between myself and Ms. Goldenring, but myself and Buenaventura Capital. There is also a glaring discrepancy between the money they claim Ms. Goldenring is trying to recover via the house versus what the security agreement says. Lastly, there is the ambiguity of the statement which claims the house was "given" to her, with no attribute for the signature, no letterhead, nothing - and it directly conflicts with the security agreement I signed at the same time with Buenaventura.

I also gave our lawyer something else to consider. See, we've paid Buenaventura roughly 50K already. A year ago April, when Michael spoke with Ms. Goldenring on the telephone, she began to cry when Michael related that fact, which more or less says "Norman hasn't paid me a dime." We've been TELLING her to sue Norman - that it isn't us she needs to sue - but her psyche just can't wrap around the idea that another Jew, who is both a family friend and a member of the same Temple, could've swindled her. Sooner or later, she is going to have to face that fact when she finds she has to go to court again to get Norman to pay the back taxes and put the title into her name.

She can't even think about selling this place without that title being free and clear.

Part of their eviction suit includes lawyers fees and court costs, which as of the last document, are stated at $6000. She could've taken $4000 of that and paid off the taxes, got my name off as registered owner, and demanded the title from Norman. Instead, she's paying the ambulance-chasing bloodsucking lawyer Olaf, who is dreaming up ways to creat paperwork and bogus filings just to soak her for more money.

I'm goya so what do I know - or at least she thinks I am. Fact of the matter is my matrineal line - the same one where the Shamanism comes from - was Hungarian Jewish. Of course I was not able to relate that to her; it's not something she wants to hear, nor does she want to hear how much of a hypocrite she is. Yeah, go to Mexico and help those dirt-poor Mexicans...but you get a needy one in your own backyard and you not only spit on them, you harass them to the point where we are contemplating an ethics complaint against her lawyer, followed by a small claims suit against her for fees and suffering.

It's not that I don't want to work with her. Michael and I both have sent her letters offering to make a deal...but we weren't going to pay and pay and pay forever. There was also the matter of the fact that she doesn't have the title. We could pay her and have Norman come along later and say we paid the wrong person and it didn't count. We wanted a solid, signed contract, and neither of them were willing to give it to us.

So now she gets to spend thousands of dollars on a bloodsucking lawyer and she still may not get this house - plus face a possible lawsuit from ME for fees, pain, and suffering.

I hate Korporate Amerika.

Creditors are fast to report you to the credit bureaus when you owe them money, sometimes reporting you before you even have a chance to do anything about it.

They don't appear to care, however, about removing their entries once they've been paid.

A little over a month ago, thanks to my cousin Jon, I paid off a bunch of debts on my credit report. I waited the requisite month, and guess what?

Each and every one of the fucking debts are still listed as owed.

WHY is it on ME that I have to contact these credit bureaus to get these debts taken off? WHY can't the DEBTORS do their part and remove them once they get their money?

WHY IS IT YOU CAN'T DEPEND ON OTHERS TO DO THEIR PART ONCE YOU'VE DONE YOURS?

Now I have to harass three credit bureaus to get these entries taken off, and watch - they'll make me wait ANOTHER MONTH before things are clear.

*headdesk*

I would say I "get a kick" out of wannabe witches, except for one thing. Their dabbling causes REAL harm.

Someone decided to send Pestilence our way, and I'm sure they're watching this journal to see the result.

Um...if it hasn't hit you already, you're going to be very ill, because it got sent back to you tenfold.

One of my totems is obviously the house cat. I have several, and unbeknownst to a lot of people, they have taken it upon themselves to stand between me and harm.

We get flies in the house because the neighbor has a dog and doesn't do a very good job of cleaning up after it. This year, the flies seemed unusually numerous. I also smelled death in places I should not have.

I'm not sure at all how it got through the shields and protectors, but it did...and it came in the flies.

Two of my older cats developed a case of conjunctivitis out of the clear blue. They don't go outside. There aren't any chemicals they can get into. No obvious cause...except the flies.

Some of these wannabe witches profess to being animal lovers, and more than a few profess a particular affinity with house cats. Well, GUESS WHAT you stupid people? YOU HURT CATS.

And it'll happen every single time you try to send something detrimental my way. I have actually had cats sicken and die rather than allow the harm that was sent to reach me. I am not happy about this. Especially right now.

I can't make them not protect me. They do it of their own free will.

So the next time you wish me harm, keep in mind that you will HURT CATS. Also keep in mind that I will send whatever it is, right back to you tenfold - and I AM skilled enough to bypass any creatures, furry or not, and beeline it right back to you. Unlike you, I am deadly serious about my Craft, and have invested plenty of time into honing my skills.

Stop with your fucking dabbling. You're not a Big Bad Witch. You're a poor excuse of a child, serving the Lefthand Path with your petulance.

See Male Submission Art

I haven't been talking much - to anyone. A couple of people think there's "something wrong" with me. Well, they're right, but it's not anything new.

I haven't heard back from Wells Fargo, and after all the press about them screwing mortgage customers over, I'm not so sure I want a loan from them.

I've looked at some loan papers the real estate agent sent me, but it says they expect me to put 20% down. Again, we're short on that, so I doubt they'd give me a loan.

I also need to get a hold of Homes for Heros, since it's been just over a month since I paid off all those bills.

This week, I couldn't bring myself to do any of it. I was fine until our park manager woke us both up to tell us to take care of the yard, or else. Michael blew up at her but called her later when he was calmer and explained the situation. Seems she still expects us to take care of the yard, even if we're leaving.

There is another very nice home in Tradewinds, a park closer to Rosamond proper and supposedly such a good place to live, it's hard to get a space in there.

I just feel very overwhelmed. We both do. We decided not to do anything serious until Monday.

I haven't been going into virtual worlds as much as I used to. It seems every time I do, there's someone that wants something from me, or there's some sort of drama that needs to be handled. Right now, I can't deal with much more than I already am. My friends are wondering why I'm keeping to myself - it's hard to explain to them how I feel and have them understand it, unless they've been through it.

Right now, the less people I have to talk to, the better. I feel like a raw, exposed nerve. I need to build up some scar tissue before wading in again.