WyzWmn's World©

there is something to be said
for consciously
making the decision
to stop
living in fear

when I left my last job
at the other U
it was under duress

I honestly thought
that I was taking
all that falsehood
shit and lies
because
I would not survive
without that job

well here I am
well over a year later
and I have a job
albeit not permanent
however in a great office
and they’ve offered me
another year contract

and I’ve also applied
for a permanent job
elsewhere
at the new place
that some say
was designed for me
so we’ll see…

then there’s
finally coming
to the understanding
that this apartment
that has been my home
for 14 or 15 years
is in fact toxic
to me

so I started the search
and found a new place
more costly
however
much more space
and mostly
what I was looking for
when I first moved out here
it actually seems serene…

yesterday I went
to the car dealership
to have some much needed
service work done

about $700.00 worth
and ended up
not paying for the service
and driving out
with a brand new car
wondering
how the hell did this happen?

all this combined
with my systematic
removal
of every single
toxic person
in my life

has left me changed

and all this
this
accompanied by
another conscious decision
to include
the people here
and around the world
that both interest
and excite me
with their
kindness, peace,love
and joie de vive
lets me love and learn
from some very cool
people!

all of this
has of course
affected my health
in a very positive manner
again
nothing permanent
but the veil of darkness
I operated under
for many years
seems to have lifted

things have changed so
positively and
so dramatically
in my life
that I hardly need to
vent in here
and I wonder
if my documenting
the positive
in my life
will become boring

can I?
will I?
learn to write
about other things now?

or will this fall to the
wayside of my new life?

I hope I can
and I hope that the people
that follow this
come along for the ride

I can honestly say
I’ll try not to gloat
but damn!
life is so good

I just pray
that it continues.

Happy Mother’s Day
to all the mothers in the world

Mother’s Day
has a different meaning
for me now
than previously
those of you
that read here know why…

there’s a touch of sadness
just a touch
as I look forward
to the new
and improved
WyzWmn!

Bright Blessings!
and at the risk
of sounding suspiciously like
the 70′s version
of myself

I wish you all…Peace, Love, Joy and Health

I find
that for the first time in my life
I’m doing what I want

not what my partner wants
not what my parents want
not what my friends want
not what the bank wants

just what I want.

and while I still have
some quiet reservations…

I am kind of exhilarated

I’m being an adult
and making adult decisions
and if I spend all my money
and land flat on my ass
I have a fail safe

so
the union is fighting
the 2nd year extension
of my contract

and I’m not fussed

I simply applied for
other jobs
worth more money

cuz hey?
I’m damn near 57
it’s time
all that work experience
paid off eh?

I bought plants and pots
for my office

I rented an apartment
that’s substantially more costly
than this one

and is the kind of place
I’ve wanted to live in since
I moved to BC
14 + years ago

I bought a china cabinet
and a chair for my verandah

all those things
I’ve been denying myself
for so long

I’m doing so
with the absolute belief
that it will work out
that the cosmos
will see to it
that something
positive
will
happen
and life
will remain
good

cuz for now?

Life is damn good!

so I found
a new pad

I’m tickled
cos it’s highly
reminiscent of my fadder’s
set up at the farm

it’s country
it’s quiet
and while some areas
are smaller
there’s an extra bedroom
and a den
and laundry
shared with the lady next door
as opposed to 30 other units!

so…
now I’m all about
the whirlwind
of finding paint colours
and a china cabinet
and window dressing
etc

I’m looking forward
to living there
not so much
the packing
and moving though

my bother is going
to move me
and do the painting first
and the packing too
and shampoo the carpets

(I’m a lucky woman no?)

and then I’m gonna get on
the cable and internet
and phone
(if I decide to)
the very thought
of the next month
tires me

I think I’ll go
have a nap!

I can’t remember if I mentioned it here….I’m moving…by the first of June

The property management representative (not the new building manager) presented me with a letter advising me I had 2 weeks to get rid of Pixie, the Pickle and my dishwasher or she would serve me with a notice to evict.

While I have documentation to support everything….however I decided to stop fighting and gave her my notice instead…I mean really? Why should you have to fight to be comfortable in your own home?

Then the bother tells me that he’s thought I should get out of this place for years….go figure?  Anyway she accepted my 2 mth notice and I’m out of here for the 1st of June.

I’ve been viewing apartments all over the city and I’ve come to the sad conclusion that there are a lot of very greedy people in Victoria.  $1000.00 for an apartment the size of a postage stamp…I’ve seen some tiny, dirty, expensive rentals..still I can’t get the smell of the last one outta my nose…I think I need bleach!

I’d hoped to shorten my commute and live closer to UVic…so far the only places I’ve found that are even remotely acceptable are in the Colwood/Langford area and would add a 1/2 hr to my commute due to the traffic both ways instead of reducing it….and then I found the place of my dreams…a private little town house, hardwood floors, enough space to live in…in my price range…they’ll take cats…but no dogs.period….people are strange about dogs out here…everyone professes to love them…but don’t want them in their rentals..

I sometimes get disillusioned because the descriptions some people write in their advertisements don’t meet the actual place description…if I can’t fit a 2 seater couch and coffee table and tv in a living room without cutting the table in half…maybe your rental ain’t “Large” and if I can almost hit my head on the ceiling…maybe my 6ft4 nephew won’t be able to visit…and if yer rental stinks…it’s stinks.  I’ve even seen some 2 bedrooms with no windows in either bedroom…also against the law I think – in one so called “luxurious” rental the kitchen was so small that if the oven door was open there was no room for me in the kitchen!

Apparently they can do whatever the hell they want.

I know that there’s the right place out there for me in my price range…and I’ll find it…it just reminds me of that line about “ya gotta kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince”…I wonder if potential landlords would take offense if I showed up wearing a gas mask? LoL

I’ve got some time…so I’m gonna keep at it…

I’ve been talking about moving from this building for a long time – and now that it’s here it’s kind of bittersweet…
course the idea of packing 14 yrs of crap and shifting it ain’t…however the bother advises that he’s all over that
so I’m good

I used to talk about moving into a mobile in a real West Coast setting – but that was when I worked at the other University…now I’m at the complete opposite end of the city I’ll likely find the 55+ mobile of my dreams for cheap!

Wanna bet?

several months ago
when I was feeling at an all time personal low

I was
on the interwebz
as usual
trying to distract myself

I was looking at other chihuahuas
to see if they were like Pixie
or not

and
I stumbled across
a FB page
called “Love for Mia (cleft palate chihuahua)”

the page is dedicated
to a 1.5lb chi
born with a cleft palate
that everyone suggested
should be put down
at birth

along comes Sue
she and her husband
felt that even though
Mia couldn’t feed herself
and would need constant
hands on care
she still deserved a life

so they adopted her
and loved her
and traveled with her

a couple of vets tried to
repair her mouth
but it wasn’t fixed
in a manner
that lasted

maybe
she was just too small

over the months I’ve watched
Sue and Mia’s escapades
I guess I’ve become
kind of attached…

like apparently 7000+
other FB fans
I liked what a positive message
Mia and Sue were sending animal lovers
cos I’m a sap like that eh?

Mia traveled to exotic places
with Sue
she also went to restaurants
on planes
and for groceries
Sue posted pictures of Mia
and videos of her playing
and she fed Mia by tube
in her chest
5 times a day…
that’s commitment.

Mia and Sue were inseparable
in a way that only a true
dog lover will understand.

On Wednesday
Mia passed away.

she didn’t suffer long
Sue wouldn’t allow it
she was at the vet’s
due to an infection

her breathing
(which was always iffy)
got worse
and when the prognosis
got to the stage
where there should
a decision made
Sue
with all of her love
for Mia intact
took her home
and allowed her to die
with dignity in her arms.

I have been strangely affected by this
this death
of a wee dog
that I’d not ever met

there’s been
a real sadness
for me
since I read the news

and I’m quite surprised
and how strongly
I’ve been affected

I can’t help but think
what a wonderful thing it was
for Mia to have a life
that affected so many of us
positively…

when truly?
at birth?
they wanted to euthanize her.

What a blessing Mia was
from afar
and how very helpful
it was for me
to watch Mia
and stop worrying about myself!

R.I.P little one
I’ll see you someday
over the Rainbow Bridge.

Remember the good old days?

Remember when we were young and full of piss n vinegar and could ride for days on end, with no aches and pains? No Ibuprofen or Geritol? No tent or trailer?  Everyone slept on the ground…and you never really knew what was in that burger you just ate?

Remember when motorcycling events were a day long or a month long and you didn’t care if you lost your job…you just had to ride? And riding to find “like minded” individuals wasn’t your mantra…it was finding the real brothers and sisters of the road?

Remember when you could head out on the highway and be the only soul riding for days…back and forth across the continent…just man/woman and machine?

Remember when motorcycling events were just motorcycle access only…not RV’s, trucks, cars and even few tents, dogs, cats, birds, children and the babysitter?  When ya slept under a tarp beside your bike, or worst case scenario…under the picnic table?

Remember when event shirts were thin and not meant to last 25 years?

Remember when you’d climb on…just a tooth brush and your wallet and head for points unknown, no plans, no agenda, no rules?  When motorcycle riders were bikers not enthusiasts? When you didn’t have to explain the concept of “give respect/get respect”? And god forbid everyone and their pet cat didn’t declare themselves “old school”?

Remember when you attended Sturgis and got lost exploring roads on the way home? And when ya broke down you weren’t 6 days waiting for parts cos all ya really needed to do was pull that master link offa your belt?

Remember when your family found out were you’d been last week cos that’s where the package of dirty laundry that arrived in the post was from?

Do you remember when music was good old fashioned rock and roll and didn’t involve an urban dictionary in words you knew, covering sentiments you understood and loved?

Do you remember when the only guys who wore their pants with their waist bands somewhere around the knees were legitimate plumbers or competition level beer drinkers?

Do you really remember Old School?

I do!

I originally wrote this post as a flyer for a rally friends were trying to have…it fell thru but the sentiment is still there.

some may look
at my decision
to move
out of this apartment
as me
throwing in the towel
giving up the fight

but really
it’s so good
it squeaks!

the new resident manager
is a kind generous lady
with a big heart
her boss?
not so much

her boss served me
with a letter
telling me
that I had 2 weeks
to change my household
to her standards
including
getting rid of Pixie
and my dishwasher
and my trike

I have collected
documentation
over the last 15 yrs
of living here
that will show her
in plain
unadulterated
English
that all of her
so called “items”
are legal
and that I have never
hidden any of them

but really?
why fight?

my diseases
have compromised me
to a point where
even the stress
of this fight
could set me back

so I talked to my brother
who convinced me
that it would be
100 times healthier
to move
and get away from
the negativity
of having to fight
to stay in my own home

once upon a time
there was a real sense
of community here

no more…
the floods,
the broken appliances
that never got repaired
the lack of consideration
from the other people livng here
the changes that only benefit
the company running the place
have convinced me
that the time has come

so
this is me
throwing in the towel
and beginning the search
for a new happy home

here’s my new home wish list:

• no aircraft landing light on the roof
• dog friendly
• 2 parking spots
• water pressure
• double sink in kitchen
• full size appliances (no more bar fridge)
• no carpeting
• easy access (not up 3 flights of stairs)
• soaker tub and shower
• laundry
• quiet
• storage (lots)
• fireplace
• yard, patio or deck access
• bbq friendly
• spacious
• no lawn to maintain
• 2nd bedroom/den/computer room
• sit down dining/eating area

I don’t think
any of it
is too much to ask
and it doesn’t hurt
a girl to dream

profound thought of the day

you can read
as many
motivational quotes
posters
thoughts
and books

as you want

in the end
your choices
can be
removed
from you
by your disease
or diseases

I’m having
what seems to be
a new and improved
Crohn’s attack…

I can not
at any given time
be more than 5 paces
from the restroom
because
of what is expelling out
both ends of me…

I need groceries
can’t leave the vicinity
of the rest room

I want to do housework
I can’t stand
long enough
without
throwing up

I want to read
I can’t sit up
long enough
without
throwing up

I need to do laundry
I can’t leave the vicinity
of the rest room

I get up every morning
with firm resolve
to change my day
and I can’t make it
through breakfast
without being challenged
by my body

without my body
staging a revolt.

I can’t even go to work

I thought this was the flu
and it’s not

the more bored
and stressed
I get
the worse my symptoms

I can’t even cry
cos that moves up the
expelling process
exponentially
(if you get
my drift?)

people wonder
where my depression
comes from?

they ought to try
endless days
of laying on the couch
or in bed
waiting for the next
bout
while other people
have lives..
visit..
work…

they ought to try
endless days
of daytime tv
I can only read
so many books
laying on my side…

they ought to try
Crohn’s for one day

I’d bet good money
they’d give it back….

lost
drifting
unfocused

sounds travel around me
nothing affects my soul

hard to catch my breath
even my necklace feels too heavy
on my chest

what’s this all about?

blue sky
no sadness
kinda numb
can’t concentrate
can’t rest
can’t think
can’t brain

no zen
that’s for sure

was it but a month ago
I felt grounded
sound
happy?

but wait!
wasn’t it just last week?
wasn’t I happy last week??

I wait
with baited breath
for the other shoe
to fall

I wait
with anticipation
and dread

I wait
for the muck
to clear

for what?

did ya ever wonder
what it is
that made you
the way you are?

how did I end up such a romantic?
how did I end up a crier?
how did I end up with a firm resolve towards kindness
in spite of the life I’ve lived,
the people I’ve encountered?

how’d this happen to me
when it didn’t to so many others?

what’s the difference?
what causes it?

what makes me want to believe in the good
when so many don’t, can’t, won’t?

what makes me trust
until proven I shouldn’t
as opposed to starting out
from a negative standpoint?

what is it that makes me believe
that love and kindness
will eventually win over
even the most
jaded
cruel
people I encounter.

I must be a glutton for punishment…

nevertheless
I’m still gonna be
a romantic
that weeps
when affected by
the beauty
or the anguish
of life

all the hate,
anger,
meanness,
cruelty,
and judgement
I encounter
may make me stumble

and still
I will try
to follow
this path
I find myself on…

I gotta say
I’m some kinda glad
to see the end
of this week

Tuesday I spent the day
with my father
at the Cancer Clinic

he has Adenocarcinoma
a cancer of the lung
specifically found in
non smokers
and women
he has a 4.5cm tumor
and nodes in both lungs

this cancer
is ineligible for radiation
and even if he’d do it
(and he’s not interested)
he can’t have chemo
as he has an enlarged aorta
and chemo would likely kill him

we left the clinic that day
with a ballpark
diagnosis of “about a year”

he’s very interested in
his quality of life
over quantity
and I’m intent
on helping him get that
whether I agree
with his decisions
or not

they also told him
that there is some new
wonder drug
called Gefitinib
(I kid you not)
that has had hugely
positive results
in people with his type
of cancer

however – only 10%
of cancer patient
have the right genetic makeup
to handle the drug
and chances were slim
that’d he’d fit the criteria

so yesterday
I went to see
my new rheumatologist
who is helping me get my pain
under control
and whom led me to
an appointment
with an endocrinologist
with amazing results

I was feeling pretty good
and then today
we found out
that Dad qualifies
for Gefitinib!!

I feel kinda like
I’m peepin
the light
at the end of the tunnel

I hope and pray
it ain’t a train!

those of you
that have been reading me
for a while
will remember my
Zippy the Clown
story

those of you
that haven’t read it
go here

go ahead
I’ll wait….

tap tap tap tap!

so
today
there’s a new version
of Zippy

while I was
sitting in the dark
on the couch
watching tv
and eating dinner

it eventually occurs to me
that the wee dog
is chewing on something
that she shouldn’t be

I flip on the light
and discover
she’s got a tube
of lipstick

and somewhat
like me
she’s got it
all over her face
all over her feet
on the couch
on the aphgan
and
on the floor

perfect!

I spend too much time alone

in the deepest darkness
of the night

when I am alone
with only my thoughts
and music
to keep me
from losing my mind

I miss you the most

when I think back
to what was
and think also
what could have been…

I am broken

blow
after
blow
after
blow
after
blow

year after year
after year

break me down

I am strong
but for the deepest
darkness of the night
where I am alone

there’s nothing even left
to fix

it just carries on
without me

for I spend too much time alone.

I’m often asked
by people without them
do tattoo’s hurt

well
of course they do
but they hurt differently
on different people
and they
hurt more at the time
of application
than any other time

I got more work done on my
memorial peice this week

each and every time I do it
as in the past
the artist starts
and I think to my self
as many have in the past
“I’m a smart woman
and I can get outta this
without looking like
the loser I am”
…because it hurts LoL

this whole business
of tattooing
is my sister’s fault
as she bought me my first
for my 40th b’day
and I was immediately hooked

I’ve said before
that the leg has been
and evolution of sorts
and I can’t help but think
that for the artist
it would be way easier
if he had a younger
taut
not quite so
dried up
canvas
one without
quite so many
vericose veins LoL

each and every time I get work done
he wraps it up
before I leave
to keep me from
leaking plasma
all over my bed
(some people actually bleed
I leak plasma)

so the following morning
when I unveil
the new work for viewing
and the first
tender wash of it’s lifetime
I never like it

that’s right
I never like it
the new stuff is foreign
and it always takes
me a day or so
to get used to it

this time was no
different
I paid the man
for the work done
knowing full well
that we weren’t finished
and the following morning
I had a wtf? was I thinking
in the shower

but here I am 4 days later
and I love the work

so in a mth I’ll go back

and I’ll try to get better pix too!

and if you need reminding

this is why I started this

it’s an easy enough thing
for me
to let my mind wander
away from the things
that hurt or bother me

I’ve been doing it
my whole life long

all 56 yrs of it…

allowing
books
or music
or visual media
to remove me
from that which
bothers me the most

still
every once in a while
I find myself
in the untenable position
of having no choice
but to deal
with the reality
of life
and once again
death

I’ve lost too much
recently
I keep thinking
this too can not be happening

but it is.

my father is dying
more so than an 80 yr old
is dying

he has lung cancer
inoperable
and in a couple of weeks
we’ll find out
just how many weeks/months
he has left

not likely years
but weeks or months

there’s decisions to be made
and things to do
and as much as I try
to while away my time
with other endeavors
the kind that I’ve used
to take me away
for all my 56 years

this little
earth shattering
tidbit of information
keeps peeping around
the corner
at me
taunting me
haunting me

it sits on my chest
and makes it hard
for me to breathe

it sits at the back
of my eyes
ever ready to well up

I think to myself
“move along
others have dealt with this
you can too”

it’s not working though…

is it selfish to say
I don’t want to?
is it selfish to say
it’s too soon?
is it selfish to say
yes…but what happens
to me now?

yes
it is

however
I’m told its
normal
healthy
common
the 5 stages of grief
etc
etc
etc

I don’t care
I just want to not
have everything I do
coloured by this
gargantuan sadness
or by worry

sadness
that enfolds me
encompasses me
engulfs me
takes charge

my logical mind
has the answers
and will do
what needs to be done

my sad and worried mind
needs to be acknowledged too.

the mind that keeps finding itself
on the floor of Grandma’s bedroom closet
weeping
just like when I was little.

I never cease to be amazed
at how far away a soap opera
is from real life

maybe that’s the reason
they are all going off the air

although you’d have
a tendency
to think
that there might be
similarities
the only thing
that is similar
is that they both
involve people…

you see
on a soap opera
everyone looks wonderful
and seems to manage life
without working
or struggling….

on a soap opera
when a child dies
he/she will be found
under a cabbage leaf
in years to come
none the worse
for wear…

on a soap opera
people who have surgery
recover in days even minutes
not weeks or months…

on a soap opera
even the people
that live on the streets
have perfect pearly white teeth…

on a soap opera
people can contract a horrid disease
yet not die…

on a soap opera
people die
only to come back
with new faces/arms/legs/brains…

on a soap opera
there’s no long term consequences
for drug use
for murder
for theft
for rape…

Real life
is not that neat
or kind
or easy

Real life
contains real pain
both physical and emotional

real life contains
real depression
real anxiety
real danger
real addiction
real consequences

Real life
is not
a soap opera
no matter how hard
you try wish it so.

and begging doesn’t help either

Real life
is…

real life.

I stopped at a strip mall grocery store on my way home from work (it’s getting dark)…I see these guys wandering up and down the isles in the parking lot…they are wearing safety vests that say “Crime Prevention” and they are pressing their noses up against the windows of people’s cars.  If they see something in the car they leave this formal looking citation (warning) under the windshield wiper.

I’m leaning up against a tree by my car as they approach…one guy starts towards my car:  “press your nose up against the window of my car and see what it gets ya” I say quietly.

This pretend cop starts off on this long, well rehearsed crime prevention spiel….outlining for me how “stupid” most people are

I listened to the whole thing and then said once again “touch my car and see what it gets ya” whilst examining my shoes.

he says “you can’t touch me!  I’ll call the cops…you can’t touch me”

I look up and quietly reply “go ahead and invade my privacy by pressing your nose up against my car window, that’d be my personal belonging…it will be far far too late for you by the time the cops get here…besides, I don’t have a retirement package and right now 3 squares and a cot with guberment medication and no full time job sounds pretty good to me.”

They left.
I went for groceries.

I think I’m a little too stressed for public consumption…I’m reverting back to old habits.

I’m afraid…
and I don’t mind admitting it

2 weeks ago
my father went to the dr
to see about a persistent cough

he had an xray
that turned into a CT scan
that turned into a broncoscopy

he has lung cancer

this is the healthy one
the guy that still rides his bike
all over creation
at 80

the guy who chops wood
and hauls furniture
and reads about Jesus
ad infinitum

the guy who spent many
many years of his life
working in palliative care
assisting others
through the process of coming to then end…

now we wait
for the results of his biopsy
with hope against hope
that it is not inoperable
that this isn’t
the beginning of a nasty end

the realist in me
knows it’s going to happen someday…
that doesn’t mean
I have to like it
or that I’m not horribly afraid that it’s going to happen now.

I’m a pretty open person
I wear my heart on my sleeve
I try always to do my best
I strive to be kind
I try more often than not to be nice

I don’t succeed all the time
but I sure do try

being this type of a person
constantly puts me in the position
to be taken advantage of
or to be used
or to be hurt
by mean spirited
self absorbed
conniving
people

I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea
but even if you don’t agree with me
you must needs be civil.

most days I can handle it
when people aren’t

today however?
not so much

my feels good
got stomped on but good today
and as much as most of the people involved
say it’s not me
and I don’t have to own it

I tried really really hard
to not have this happen

and still it did.

I’d rather just not do it anymore.

I’m weary
tired of everything being so hard
tired of trying so hard
tired of the backlash
tired of never coming out on top
just
plain
weary.

goes a long way…

I am continually stymied
by some people’s
complete lack of understanding
or consideration or kindness

the lack of
common garden variety courtesies
amazes me
more than running into an axe murderer
face to face

(and believe me when I say
“been there, done that”)

how hard is please and thank you
and mean it?

why is it so hard to offer courtesy
to strangers
let alone acquaintances
or friends

why does it continue to blow me away
when I hear/see/experience people
without the sense of compassion
to be kind?

wtf is wrong with people?

apparently kindness is a learned trait
it isn’t something
that all people are
born with

and frankly
that lack
speaks volumnes
to humanity’s penchant for
negativity

if someone holds a door open for you
take a second
and say thanks

if you have good service
in a restaraunt, pub, customer desk
say thanks

if you work next to someone
all day long
have the courtesy to say hello
or try a couple
of bland pleasantries
over the course of the day…

it’s pretty simple
being kind
why then am I constantly
farklempt
by people’s lack
thereof?