2015- Racism, Facebook mom, Teachers, Non-readers, Startup

1. I joined a business networking type group. First question asked from one of the main members: “How long does it take you to do your hair every day?”

2. I rented out my house. I had to find renters. As I was showing said house to two jolly, middle aged, sister potential renters I got a weird feeling when the jolly girls asked about how much a utility deposit was. (Later I looked into this and CU only takes a deposit from non-payers, like LONG time non-payers). The jolly sisters liked the home, I said if they’d like an app to contact me. We said good-bye.

The next day I got an email: Hey! We love the house! Please send me the application. – Dana     R****in

Dana? I don’t remember the jolly sisters’ names, but I don’t think one was Dana. I look up Dana R****in on Facebook- she’s black. Which doesn’t matter at all, except I cannot remember showing the home to any black lady. Now, I panic. Did I not notice the jolly sisters are black? Am I so unobservant that I just didn’t notice? I start thinking somehow this makes me racist.

I look at Dana’s FB again and scan all the pics trying to find one white one. Can’t find any- she’s almost getting blacker.

I never solved the mystery of Dana the black lady. My only logical idea is the jolly sisters where hired by Dana to find a home for Dana, but this still seems weird.

3. I tried working on a new startup company. After a few days of rambling phone calls at 7:50 am- I started implementing the power of words and text and email correspondence. After a week of really trying to force this thing called reading down the lady’s throat – I get this response from my email (which was well thought out, well written, and clearer than baby tears) “Oh I hate txt crap sorry to give you that impression. I no way thought that. I’m so sorry.” Basically saying she can’t write what she means.

The lady is a writer.

4. After realizing the lady couldn’t read – or just adamantly refused the joys and powers of reading, I resulted to pictures and limited words with very specific instructions. See how this went?

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5. I moved outta my old house when Tylor and I got married. I threw away probably a hundred pounds of crap, and donated hundreds of pounds of clothing to charity/friends/the crackhead sifting through my trash. Mother asked what she could buy me for a wedding gift (after I said many times we wanted no presents). I told her nothing again and said she could make a donation to a charity or if she really wanted to buy something- buy us some bulb plants.

Two weeks later I got a package in the mail. The below “outfit” was in said package. It was a very thoughtful gift from mom. A stunning dismal grey sky colored dress suit- there’s even a rosette on the over coat. Mom noted I could wear the polyester masterpiece on the beaches of Florida, even suggesting for the night before our wedding, when we “went out on the town.”

Mom text a few days later to see if it fit, and said, “I don’t go by the number on the tag anymore.” It was a size 16, I’m a size 6.

After a few texts back and forth of me reminding her of our no gift requests she said, “Oh well just throw it away then. Don’t give it a second thought. It’s from the best thrift store in Bolivar. It was 25 cents.”

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Note: I have an entire outfit on under the grey one.

6. I probably got fired again.

7. Mother got Facebook and I thought, – okay, fine I’ll accept (even though older brother never did- this might have caused him to get a call from dad. This call might have included, “be your mother’s fucking friend!”). Well, in the past her crazy wasn’t too public, but the power of Facebook combined with a mother’s ignorance formed a force no one was prepared for. The crazy was public and for all to see. This wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was when she found private messaging. She messaged many of my friends- some she hasn’t spoken to in over five years. Her message was always asking, “Have you lost weight? You look so thin.” Then she’d ramble on about how she can help. WUT?

8. A lady (who knew I used to teach) came up and stuck up a conversation about teaching. Which quickly led to me saying I retired from the profession, twice. She narrowed her ugly eyes and quickly said, “Well I did too.” I go, “Well, we have something in common!”

She didn’t find this funny and soon said, “Teachers have to really be in it for the kids to stay, you can’t fake it.” What? You know what you personally can’t fake, Deb? Youth, a good personality, or a fucking sense of humor. Eff off Deb.

9. I realize either the majority of people are on drugs which cause them to forget basically everything or no one listens. For the sake of the world, I hope drugs are the reason.

10. I was shushed during a meeting that I volunteer my time for. SHUSHED people.

 

 

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