Happy thoughts update

So it turned out that dream apartment was a craigslist scam. Fuckers.
But I go see another apartment tomorrow. I’m freaking out a lot. We’re
supposed to be out of our temp digs on April 5th. One week to find a
place and move and find beds and pay off electric bills and and and.
Good news is that I’ve managed to cobble together most of a kitchen
and a friend has a couch in his basement for us. It’s filthy with dust
from being used at burning man, but beggars, choosers, slipcovers etc.
And Aeryl got together a box of shirts for the kid including a Bob
Ross Happy Trees hoodie. We still need your happy thoughts, so keep
thinking them.

It’s called an intersection for a reason people

Renee at Womanist Musings has a great piece up called ‘Stop denying
white female privilege’. Remember my little kyriarchy prime, little
bits of privilege mix with little bits of oppression to make something
new. That’s an intersection. Also 2 (or more) oppressions can mix to
make something new. It’s like cooking. Oil and vinegar are 2 totally
disparate substances, but when you mix them together you have
dressing. So yes, white lady privilege ABSOLUTELY, UNEQUIVOCABLY
EXISTS. I lived for years as one of the few whites in a black
neighborhood and my neighbors and I All understood that if a person in
authority (like the cops) needed to be called, the best response
happened when it was my white lady presence talking to the authority.
When i got hassled by men on the street, my sole weapon was the
knowledge that if the police showed up I’d be believed because the
hasslers were always POC (not because POC are more likely to harrass
but because that was the neighborhood I was in.) That’s privilege.
Full stop.

Happy Thoughts Please

I just submitted an application for a seriously awesome, affordable,
furnished 2 bedroom withall utilities including INTERNET paid.
Think happy thoughts, pray to whatever deity, rub whatever luck
dragon, budda belly, rabbit’s foot you’ve got. This could be a real
lucky break for us.

Oh crap

Both Geraldine Ferrero and Diane Wynn Jones died today. Ferraro was
the first woman to run for VP. Wynn Jones wrote Howl’s Moving Castle
along with numerous other amazing kid’s fantasy books.
suckage

That’s who the pick to do the mortgage fraud perp walk?

Go to the NYTimes and search for No Mortgage Brokers Behind Bars, But
Borrower Is or something to that effect. It’s Nocera column if that
helps.
Isn’t it lovely how that dilligent agent dug and dug and dug till he
could prosecute a borrower? I know I feel safer knowing that as long
as there are enough zeros attached to the dollar amount that you
steal, you’ll be safe and sound. But your everyday mortgage holder
better watch what they say over cocktails.

When therapy clashes with reality

So i have an awesome therapist who’s been hitting me hard with the
cognative behavioral stick. It’s a wee bit hokey, but it works. Last
week (after the perfect apartment debacle) she made me write and
repeat ‘I deserve good things to happen to me’. Today I went and saw
an appropriately priced place and Dickens could not have written a
slummier hole if he tried. Massive woodrot, security system that’s
been broke so long that tenants have faded notes up reading ‘ honk or
yell for apartment 5′, the floors were so uneven that I’m not sure if
it’s a structural issue or if the lumps were dead things under the
carpet. But this is what the social worker thinks is appropriate. So
how does that mesh with the therapist telling me that I deserve good
things? Someone’s view is scewed and I’m not sure whose.

Excuse me

while I go hide under a table to vomit and cry.
What? Like you’ve never left a dentist’s office feeling the same way?
Of course it’s the Kid who had the drilling done, so he’s the one in
pain. But fucking medicaid, which only pays for (some) dental for
children is only paying the drilling portion. The dentist gave kid a
temp filling for free when i nearly (ok, not nearly but actually)
cried when they told me it would be 660 bucks to actually crown his
tooth. fucking fuck fuck fuck. That’s more than I make in a month.
That’s more than I make in 2 months. Argghhhh. I’ll be the girl
hugging her knees and rocking under the table in a corner covered in
tears and vomit mumbling 660 dollars over and over.

Dammit child, stop growing!

Children always pick the most inopertune time to grow. We are on our
way to the dentist and the convo goes like this: Me: go rebrush your
teeth, for a whole 2 minutes, and put on a shirt without a hole in it.
Kid comes back a few minutes later in a dirty shirt. When I complain
he tells me all his other shirts are ‘too short to wear in public’.
Damn. I’m allready trying, vainly to scrounge together money for a
past due electric bill and phone bill (so we can have lights and
internet in our new place when we find it) and mattresses that aren’t
bed bug infested (700 gets us 2 brand new sets), and maybe a couch and
a tv from the thriftstore. So if you are a dude or have a dude in your
life who has some decent men’s xl tees and hoodies you were planning
on sending to thrift store heaven, send me an email. i will totes take
them off your hands.