Shaun and I have been gone for days.

Shaun and I have been gone for days.  We were doing something I've been telling myself and others that I wouldn't do.

I'm about to talk too much.  I can't possibly give all the details of this complicated story here, but I'm about to speak ill of the dead.  To any friends or family that don't want to be identified, don't out yourself in the comments if you want to keep this private.  I'm only using first names here for a reason.

When we were kids my brother and I were babysat by a girl who was 5 years old than me named Sabrina.  She was always nice to us.  She was kind of a tomboy.  Really tough.  Into horses.  She let me ride one of hers once and I jumped off it because it was running towards the electric fence and I didn't want to get electrocuted.  The horse was running towards the fence because Sabrina was feeding it.  She got her ass beat for that, even though it was I who made a bad decision.  That's just how things were in the 80s/90s in the circles my family associated with.  You performed violence upon your children to keep them in line.

Sabrina wasn't the best influence.  She let me and Cade try cigarettes for the first time.  I didn't like it, but years later my brother made it a regular habit.  She told me about her first real boyfriend.  I still remember his whole name because she said it so much.  I heard all about her first consensual sexual encounter when she snuck off to be with him.  I remember her writing him love letters and young me trying to correct her spelling of "supposed"... Sabrina swore it was spelled "suppost" because of the way it sounded when you said "supposed to."  She wasn't all bad, though.  She read the words on Batman when it came on TV for Cade.  "BAM!  POW!  SPLAT!"  She kept us safe and fed.  She showed me how to comb my hair and then bend a thin stream of water from the faucet with the static.  We had other horse-riding times where no one got in trouble.

Of course, we got older and didn't need a babysitter anymore and Sabrina grew up, too.  I didn't really hear much about her after that.  People weren't so connected back then.  If you didn't know where someone lived or have their phone number, then you likely were not in touch.  So fast forward from the 90s to 2018 - about 6 years ago, and we found each other on Facebook.  We messaged and traded phone numbers and eventually I went to see her in person.

My first night at her house we talked so much that I was too tired to drive home.  I ended up spending the night because she was about 2 hours away from where I lived and I knew I couldn't make that drive home on no sleep.  We had SO MUCH catching up to do!  I met her large dogs, Jersey and Sam, and her boyfriend, Fred, who was a really nice guy.  It felt so familiar and comfortable - like being with a long lost family member.  I don't know if it was because of her babysitter status with me or what, but I never felt unsafe with her - even when she busted out the weed and cocaine on top of her constant sipping of vodka and smoking of cigarettes.  I was honestly shocked at how she was able to carry on a normal conversation with me, seemingly unaffected.  I will admit that I don't know much about drugs and alcohol, (having never been unsober myself), but it seemed like a lot of things to do in one night.

I wasn't judging her.  I really don't care what grown people do with their bodies in their own home if they aren't hurting anyone else.  I think more drugs should be legal and available safely, but that's a post for another day.  So I asked her how she seemed so straight despite what she was doing and, ever honest, she explained to me that she'd been doing them for a long time and much of it just made her feel normal.  She also told me about past drug use and how she was proud that she'd quit heroin.  I've read that that one is really hard to quit, so I was proud of her, too.  We hung out a few more times, even taking a trip to the zoo.

It wasn't terribly long after we reconnected that she moved to Phoenix, AZ, though.  It was early 2020.  She moved there for healthcare, which I 100% understand.  Despite her being honest about her drinking, no one in Alabama seemed to be able to diagnose her with cirrhosis of the liver, which she definitely obviously had.  I moved to New Mexico later in 2022, so we were only about 6 hours apart at that point.  She asked me to visit her a few times, which I did.  I'd met her roommate, Martin.  On one of those trips to visit she was celebrating her birthday, so I also met her nurse and her friend that she referred to as "Uncle Richard."  While in Arizona, she was still smoking cigarettes, as well as pot - which was legal there.  She stopped the cocaine because she didn't care about it enough to find a hookup.  She continued to drink vodka heavily.  She was on and off hospice care while in Phoenix because the healthcare providers kept expecting her to die and she just didn't.  She got so sick of being told she only had 3 or 6 months left and then living past it.  She said it was scary and gave her anxiety.

Other than that I feel like she was pretty happy in Phoenix.  She was renting a nice house.  It had a pool.  She had her dogs with her.  She had a roommate or two (Martin and Beth) and it seemed like that went mostly ok.  I don't think Martin and Beth got along, but Martin was a truck driver so he wasn't home much.  Her friend/roommate Beth helped take care of Sabrina and the dogs.

Eventually, Beth moved out and Sabrina was mostly home alone.  She didn't like that too much.  She told me that she was paranoid schizophrenic, so she didn't feel comfortable being alone (aside from the fact that she didn't want to die alone, either).  Her phone calls and pleas for me to visit became more frequent, but I'd started my dream job and didn't have the empty space to fill anymore.  I also didn't always love the visits.  She smoked all over me and I hated it.  I would remind her and then we'd head outside, but the very next time she wanted a cigarette, she'd light up right next to me again.  She was loud.  She needed a lot of attention and stomped around and yelled.  She needed the TV up loud to keep from hearing outside noises and getting bothered.  I started to feel more like entertainment than a person she wanted to interact with.  It was kind of sad seeing how lonely she was, but I'd learned over time through our conversations that she'd been really shitty in her heavier drug-using days to a lot of friends and family, so she'd done it to herself.  She freely admitted that.  She said that she'd tried to make some amends, but not everyone was open to it, so there was nothing else she could do.

Despite me keeping my physical distance for a while, we kept in touch on Facebook and the phone.  I could handle that much better than long trips to a place where I didn't want to be.  One evening she called me several times, saying that Martin was supposed to be home, but that he wasn't.  She said she woken up from a nap and that he was gone and hadn't taken his wallet or ID.  She said he walked to the store sometimes, but always took his wallet.  A few panicked calls later, I told her that I was sure he was ok and that I was heading to bed.  Around 5 that morning she called again, saying that Martin and Uncle Richard were found at Uncle Richard's house, both dead of gunshot wounds.  She was now alone in Phoenix and panicking.

I didn't know what to do, but she begged me to help her move.  I told her to let me know when she had a place to go.  I took off work in February and helped her move in with a friend in Pampa, TX.

That move was a whole long story in and of itself.  I had DoorDashed boxes and packing tape to her weeks before I arrived (she couldn't drive to get things because she had seizures), but she still wasn't fully packed when I came to get her.  I had to rent the moving van and also help pack her stuff and then pack the van.  I paid for all of the gas and the hotel stay, as well as the van rental.  I was really patient with her, even when she forgot her asthma inhaler and we had to stop at an emergency room for her to get another one.  She puked off and on the entire trip because her body was shutting down.  She was only not puking when she was passed out on pain meds.  She was rough with the dogs continually hit Sam while yelling "Get back!  Get back!" while I was driving and at one point kicked Jersey, who was 14 years old at the time.  She was mad at Sam for creeping towards the front of the van to be with us because he might step on her barf bag and she was mad that Jersey was pulling the leash on the way to the hotel, but these dogs were never socialized or leash-trained.  I know that she was in pain and also mourning the loss of her home and her friends, but I told her I was never helping her with anything else after that.  She had now crossed my fucking line.  For the rest of the trip I tied Sam where he couldn't get close enough to her to get hit and I walked both giant, untrained dogs by myself (separately, of course).

I'd never seen Sabrina hurt an animal before.  I knew that she grew up on a farm and that they frequently ate the animals that they cared for. She'd told me stories of having to kill some of them herself.  I know that that takes a toll and that most farmers have a different view of animals than me.  I don't love it, but I get it.  I knew that Sabrina yelled at the dogs.  Sometimes she yelled at Sam for snoring, which seemed mean because it's not like he could help it.  I knew that she kind of shuffle-kicked him out of the way sometimes.  That didn't seem overly violent considering that he was probably 100 lbs and since her body was failing he could cause her to fall or wet her pants due to not having a clear path to the bathroom.  But I'd never seen her just haul off and hit or kick one of them, and that is exactly what she did to Sam for daring to try to be near her when it was inconvenient and Jersey for pulling the leash.  Sam took the beatings quietly, but Jersey yelped when she was kicked.  My heart was broken.

Jersey is not a super sociable dog.  I was told that she hated men and was snappy with most people, but she and I always got along well.  Jersey has arthritic hips and gets allergies on top of her butt in the spring.  She was a little fat which was bad for her hips, but otherwise she was doing ok.  At Sabrina's house, she usually slept on a dog bed in the corner.  That night in the hotel, she asked to sleep with me.  She was too fat to get on the bed, but stood up with her paws on the edge.  We locked eyes and in that moment I promised her that everything would be ok.  It wasn't a verbal promise.  It was a heart to heart knowing between us and I don't know how else to describe it.  Then I went and picked her back end up and she slept there with me all night.  Sam is kind of a goofy thing and is friendly to most people.  He usually slept in the floor at Sabrina's house.  He was up on the bed and then down again.  I think he kept getting hot.  But I feel it was telling that two dogs chose me over their dying owner.

Anyway, we made it to her friend Cowboy's house the next day.  He was a nice guy, but he did NOT know what he was getting into.  That wasn't his fault - Sabrina had hidden her sickness and the size of her dogs from him.  She also did not make her intention to live with him until she died clear; he thought he was helping her get on her feet.  When we arrived and let the dogs out of the van, his eyes were huge.  He asked if they had crates and she said flatly "My dogs don't go in cages."  After we unloaded the van, she then sat him down and told him how things were going to be, that her dogs would kill his girlfriend's small dog so she didn't need to bring him over anymore, etc.  I was astounded by the audacity.  He did stand up to some of what she said, but it was in that moment that I learned the extent of how she'd manipulated him into taking her in and I felt HORRIBLE for being party to it.  I had no idea.

I went home that night feeling like a huge douchebag, but there was nothing I could do.  Sabrina got settled in and remained in touch via phone and Facebook.  It wasn't long before she called and asked me to move her again - but back to Alabama this time.  She said that there would be no room for her at Cowboy's house soon.  She said that the dogs were a problem and she was going to have to take them to the pound.  She said she felt like she was in his way and that they weren't getting along.  I told her that I wouldn't be getting along with her either if she had hidden so much from me to get me to take her in.  Her pleas became more frequent and even when I explained that I couldn't take the time off, plus that I had to pay for everything last time, etc, she didn't want to take no for an answer.  She would do things like say "Well, I'm going off the grid for a while." or whatever and I would enjoy my peace and quiet.  I am not usually a confrontational person, but the last time she asked she was like "If you don't want to take me just say it." so I did.  I told her that besides me not needing to take off work and besides me having to pay for it all the last time that it wasn't fun for me and in fact it was quite stressful and that I didn't want to go to Alabama because it's a much longer trip and that I hated the way she treated the dogs and that I wasn't going to do it.  I then got the silent treatment for a blissful few weeks.

To be honest, I feel like during the whole ordeal of moving and then wanting to be moved again I had gotten a glimpse of the behavior that had driven all of her friends and family away and, well, I was not immune to that shit, either.  She was, perhaps, not using/abusing drugs as heavily as when she ran off everyone else, but I definitely felt manipulated and saw her lies (of omission, if you must) and I was not a fan.  Also, she hit Sam and kicked Jersey.  That's a fast way to get on my "Fuck you." list.

Sabrina called again a few weeks later, saying that she had been in the hospital and that's why she hadn't called.  She also cried and said that she loved her dogs and didn't want me to think that she didn't.  They were house dogs; they had air conditioning and cable TV.  Never mind that she poured vodka down Jersey's throat when she didn't want to drink alone or threw Sam into the pool despite him being scared to death (I never witnessed these things, but she told me about it).  She loved them more than anything and they were all she had left.  Then she asked me to take them and find them homes when she died.  I told her that I would, but then Facebook talked me out of it.  Sam kills smaller animals and Jersey has a bite history.  They are not dogs that I need to have a part in rehoming anywhere, so I messaged her on Facebook and told her that if I ended up with Jersey and Sam that I'd have to have them humanely euthanized.  Every time we spoke after that, she told me not to worry about her plans for her dogs when she died.

Well, I heard from her one final time about 6 weeks ago.  She was living in hotel rooms and had made a friend.  She said she really didn't think it would be long before she died [for real this time] because she was in and out of the hospital pretty frequently.  We chit-chatted and I told her I was glad she had a place to stay and a friend and we said "I love yous" before we hung up.

I got a message from Cowboy about 2 weeks ago that she'd passed.  She had been renting a mobile home and was found deceased.  I'm not 100% on the details, but if I had to guess I'd say that her illness caught up to her.  I asked about the dogs and was told that they were at the pound.  I assumed that none of her relatives knew of her passing, so I took it upon myself to get in touch with her brother.  It was one of those funny-but-not-funny situations because his reaction was "For real?"  Apparently, she'd been telling people that she was dying, and I do believe that she was.  I knew she was sick from looking at her when we caught up in 2018, but I didn't know what was wrong.  I knew she was on hospice in Arizona because I met two of her nurses, so that was at least 2 years of her doctors believing that she had 6 months or less.  It just happened REALLY damn slowly.

So what does any of this have to do with my weekend plans?  Well... Jersey and Sam, of course.  I tried not to let them "be my problem" but I couldn't help it.  So many of my friends and family told me to stay out of it, but I was asked by several people if I was getting the dogs.  I don't know if Sabrina believed that I could have them put to sleep.  If they didn't have a place to go, I could have.  I would have hated it, but I could have.  There is no space at my house for dogs who bite people and kill smaller animals.  Rescues would be hesitant to take them for the same reasons.  I had our beautiful, sweet Rose humanely euthanized due to behavioral/mental stability concerns.  I fucking hate it sometimes, but I can do hard things.

THANKFULLY, I got in touch with Fred - Sabrina's guy in Alabama.  I remembered that she'd called him from my phone when I moved her in February, so I scrolled back and called the unlabeled number that I didn't recognize and IT WAS HIM.  I told him who I was.  I asked if he knew about Sabrina.  I then asked him if he wanted the dogs.  He said yes, so I said "Ok, I'll bring them to you."  And that is what I did.  Sabrina's amazing daughter coordinated with me and got the shelter to hold them until this weekend so that I could pick them up.  I was planning to go alone; I knew I could handle the dogs alone because I did for the second leg of trip when I moved Sabrina, but Shaun wasn't having it despite never wanting to step foot in Alabama again.  I've driven long distances by myself and it doesn't bother me, but Shaun wanted to help me and I appreciated it.

The shelter was much nicer than I anticipated for such a small town.  When we arrived, the dogs had a whole room to themselves, and thankfully they were still together.  They neutered Sam (I wish Sabrina would have done it, but she never did).  They didn't even charge me to pick them up, but we made a donation to the shelter anyway.  The dogs were happy and well cared-for.  When we left, they both got straight into my car with no hesitation.  They did well on the ride - Jersey especially.  She used to go on the road with Martin sometimes, so she was used to riding.  Sam panted and sat awkwardly and farted terribly the whole ride.  They LOVED the hotel room and made themselves at home immediately.  Jersey was rolling around and asking for attention and I've honestly never seen her like that - every time I've seen her has been in Sabrina's presence and she was much more reserved and grumpy.  She is a people-biter and supposed man-hater, but she was friendly to Shaun and overall her personality seemed much lighter.  One thing that bothered me was that Sam flinched away when I went to pet him once.  He's never seemed fearful, but I have a feeling that her hitting him in the head in the moving van wasn't a one-time thing.

At the hotel we had a king-sized bed and everyone was in it at one point.  We all crashed out in relatively short order.  I heard Jersey ever-so-quietly whine at 3:46 in the morning.  We decided to take them out and they both needed to potty pretty bad.  After we came back in, Sam slept in the floor, snoring loudly.  Jersey happily chewed a bone and shook the bed.  It wasn't a super restful night, but it was so good to see them comfortable.

I think we spent 10 hours in the car with the dogs on Saturday.  It was a lot.  By about halfway through the second day Sam started to relax.  It was raining a stupid amount by the time we hit the Alabama state line.  It was dark and raining hard by the time we got on the winding roads near Fred's house.  But the relief on those dogs when they realized they were somewhere familiar...  I can't even express how happy it made me.  And Fred was so happy that he shed a few tears.  It was a beautiful reunion.  He was so grateful to have them home.  He said they've never been outside dogs and they weren't going to start now.  That was music to my ears.  I'm so relieved that it worked out.  I'm glad there was something I could do.  I don't care that it was out of my way or a long drive or that I have a bruised hand from them pulling the leash or that my car smells like shelter dog.  It was all worth it.  I'm happy because I kept my promise to Jersey.  That is what matters to me.

Jersey in the back, Sam in the front.  Picture taken at their home in Phoenix.

Another Exclusive post...

Another Exclusive post because I don't want anyone to feel judged over their childbearing decisions, but I do have feelings about it.

I'm 40 years old; I'll be 41 next month.  I'm aware that I had my son earlier than most people have their kids, but I've discovered that I'm in a weird place regarding parenthood.  I guess that has probably always been the case, but it's more obvious now than ever.

First of all if I'm asked if I have kids it feels wrong to say "yes."  Mostly because I have adults, not kids.  Neither Shadow nor Kira need a bunch of "parenting" these days.  Yes - they still live with us, but they function on their own.  It's more like living with roommates that need advice or backup in life.  It's pretty chill.  I enjoy having them here and knowing that they are safe and have everything they need.  If either of them decide to move out one day I will be happy for them, but I'm also good with things as they are now.

I've noticed that most of the people I went to high school with either have kids that are younger than Shadow or Kira by a good few years, have one that is almost an adult and one that is brand new, or are grandparents.  None of that sounds good to me.  😆

I don't know if / when I'll have grandkids, but I'm in no hurry.  I'm focused on my career and don't want to be distracted, and also I feel like it's time for me to live for myself.  Ideally, if one of the kids has a kid they will be moved out and more or less self-sufficient because I don't feel that I have it in me to raise another child at this point.  If I did I'd have one with Shaun.  That's one experience that I'd love to share with him, but I don't see it in the cards due to the career thing, my struggles with Psoriatic Arthritis and needing to keep extra weight off my joints, and just, well... the world in general.

I am aware that Shaun and I are conservative as far as taking risks.  We still mask up and get COVID boosters and avoid people for the most part even though most of the world has declared the pandemic to be "over."  The stock market feels like gambling to us so we invest money in other ways.  We're just careful in general and really try to think things through.

Things have changed so much in the last 20-ish years that raising a new child would be a totally different experience.  We would probably want to homeschool because of the increased rate of violence in schools.  Shadow and Kira never had to do active shooter drills and I wouldn't want that for any child of mine.  Obviously, we would not feel safe sending a child to a school or daycare because of the pandemic.  It just doesn't sound like a great time to create a new life.  So I'm glad that we don't have a new child or a grandchild to worry about.

I'm also really glad that Shadow and Kira graduated before the pandemic hit and before they needed to start doing active shooter drills.  If they had been any younger they might not have made it out of high school and that is a sad and terrifying thought.

I don't know.  What other people do isn't really my business, but I honestly can't fathom wanting to bring a child into the world in the state that it's in.  It's deteriorated so much since my childhood and it feels exceedingly fast over the last 20 years.  I guess I mostly just feel really lucky to be in the situation that I'm in with our kids and that me and Shaun are on the same page about (not) having one of our own.  I should be used to being in the minority because doing my own thing has been the story of my life, but it somehow still shocks me when I notice it.  Either way, I'm grateful for the family I have - just as it is.

I guess it's time for another exclusive post because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

I guess it's time for another exclusive post because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.  But I have something I need to get on the outside of me, so here I go.

Out of the 4 of us (me, Shaun, Shadow, and Kira) I am EASILY the most social.  I like having friends and getting to know people and having folks to do things with, like skate or do nails or go to the thrift store or grab a boba or whatever.  But I have found that since we moved to New Mexico (2+ years ago now) I'm actually pretty good without having the physical presence of friends around me constantly.  I am both surprised and unburdened by that.

I feel like COVID changed a lot for me.  There was a time when it was easier to focus on the things that drew me to another person for whatever reason, but since the pandemic started the first thing I think about is the safety of myself and my family.  I realize that the newer strains of COVID are not killer like they once were, but I don't want to be sick, nor am I willing to risk me or my family getting long-COVID.  It sounds terrible and affects a person for who-even-knows how long.  It's not a risk I'm willing to take for myself, nor anyone I care about.

I saw how most people in the south treated the pandemic and it scared me how little regard anyone had for anyone else.  No one cared if they were asymptomatically carrying the virus - they weren't going to be burdened by wearing a mask to protect anyone else.  People weren't staying home or getting vaccinated to prevent the spread of the disease, either.  And I feel like that was the beginning of the end of me caring to have an in-person relationship with most people.

The lack of care regarding anyone who is not yourself is not an attractive trait to me.  It never has been.  I am not an uncaring person myself and I need that reciprocated.  It frequently wasn't reciprocated during my time in Alabama, so I avoided most people right up until we left.  And once we left I was SO RELIEVED.  If I'm far away, no one can reasonably expect to see me frequently, can they?

Our little family of 4 has by and large been an island since we arrived at our new home.  I made a skate friend, but she got injured and stopped skating so we are social media friends now.  I made another friend, but she and her husband didn't vaccinate or wear masks, so despite everything that we had in common seeing her was always a stress for me.  She and her husband almost always wanted to hang out in our house.  The kids were uncomfortable and frankly, so was I.  When she blocked me over not sharing a GoFundMe that she created (literally no one else I know knows her, so how would it have helped?), I was honestly relieved.

What I have found that I do enjoy is having people visit, or visiting people.  I had a good friend stay a week-ish in April and I took that time off work and we explored and ate went on adventures and had a wonderful time.  Shaun and I masked when we felt we needed to.  Our friend didn't, but she was also vaccinated and we were by and large outdoors, anyway.  I have another friend coming in a week or so and I am hoping for another great experience.

In November I am going back to Alabama for 2 weeks.  I will see who I can, but I will be masked when not in my hotel room or around unvaccinated / mixed company.  I am driving because the airports are full of disgusting, sickly people and I'm 100% sure that's how I got COVID when I visited home from Cincinnati.  I am going to do my best to maintain my safety and still have a good time.  But I will be relieved when it's over and I can go back home to my safe space.

I feel like short bursts of people are working out for me.  The rest of the time I am so happy to be left alone because that is the only time I don't have to think about exhausting shit like "Are they vaccinated?  They're coughing.  Why aren't they wearing a mask?  Do they wear a mask when they go out to try to minimize what they pick up?  Who / what have they been exposed to recently that they're not telling me?" and on and on and on.  If most people refuse to look out for others, then it becomes a situation where I have to look out for myself.  And this is what that looks like:  Me, working from home, staying to myself and enjoying the company of Shaun and the kids and the pets 48/52 weeks of the year.

It shocked me by how NOT upset I was by this revelation.  If it's less stressful to not have real-life in-person relationships, then so be it.  I can do that.  Social media exists.  I write, I do nails, I skate, I have pets and plants, I have my best friend and the kids here with me.  We're about to have a pool and a swing set.  I really can't think of anything to want for.  I'll probably get an online therapist eventually (for unrelated reasons), but yeah.  I think I'm just over the IRL social part of my life, at least for now.  🤷

This one isn't going on social media, either...

This one isn't going on social media, either, because I don't want anyone to feel called out.  Nobody needs that shit, especially the two people in the position I'm going to discuss.  They are both dying of liver failure due to alcoholism.

These two women, both early to mid 40s, have been told that they don't have long to live.  One of them chose to quit drinking and live what's left of her life to the fullest extent.  The other chose to keep drinking and live what's left of her life on her own terms, as well.

The one who stopped drinking has kids and grandkids and according to her social media, spends time with her family and going on trips and outings.  The one who continued to drink is pretty isolated.  She has no family left that will speak to her, just friends that have become like family - though they are few and far between.

Though these two women with the same disease have approached life in a completely opposite manner another thing that they both have in common is that they are both openly proud of their material possessions.  One boasted about having a house and two cars, while the other boasted about having a house with a pool.  Like, they both felt it was important for people to know that they feel like they had materially "made it" somehow.

It struck me as odd.

While I don't know the financial details of the lady who stopped drinking I really can't imagine that the job she holds has allowed her to purchase all of that on her own.  I know for a fact that the person who chose to keep drinking has a roommate who pays most of the bills of the place they rent.  But they are both proud of "their" achievements.

My husbang and I sacrificed a lot to claw our way up out of poverty to lower middle class; HOWEVER, his father passed away and left us the family home.  Since we wanted out of Alabama we sold both my husbang's home as well as his family home and left.  We took that money and bought our house.  And while I am very comfortable here and I love our home I feel that I can't even take credit for all of it because without his father's home to sell we would not be here.  Not yet, at least.  So someone else paying my way doesn't feel like my own success or anything that I should be proud of.

Another thing that struck me is that when faced with the upcoming end of their lives that material possessions are even on their radar.  Yes - you need to make sure things are in order, but my gosh I'd be more concerned with the time spent with loved ones or repairing relationships and saying the things I need to say or checking things off of my bucket list.  Maybe when my time comes I'll feel differently, but I just can't see myself going on social media like "I have this and this and this material thing."

It comes off strange to me.  I know that America is super materialistic and even though I've lived here my whole life it's still a bit gross to me how much we compete with one another.  In my brain when I think of being faced with my own mortality I think of righting wrongs and making sure that my survivors will be ok.  Those are my priorities.  I can't really fathom wanting people to know about my possessions as something being worthy of sharing at that stage in my life.  It's like "I want to be remembered for having a house with a pool."  Makes no sense to me.

Anyway.  This was just something that was kicking around in my head.  It may or may not make sense to anyone else, but there it is.  Something to think about.

I suppose this is the second...

I feel like I should probably get on with my "Sabrina's Birthday Story" post before my brain loses it.  So here we go...

We ended at "relaxing in the pool," correct?  After eating and pool time and Sabrina being a good hostess and talking to everyone the guests left.  It was at this point that Sabrina said she'd over-done it the past few days and that she was in pain.  She said that her choices were to hurt or to take a pain pill.  I told her she should take something for the pain and go take a nap.  And, well... she did half of that.

She took a pain pill and got hungry.  To be noted here:  She has a lot of issues with her stomach so she doesn't always have an appetite... so when she does she takes full advantage of it.  I completely understand that.  She made a hot dog and took it to her room.  She sat on her bed (that's where she almost always is) with the plate in front of her and took a bite.  Then she sat the hot dog down and then started nodding off on it while still sitting up.  At this point I figured I'd hang with Beth and let Sabrina get some rest so I went to the living room to do Beth's nails.

Me and Beth posted up on the couch with all of my supplies at the ready.  I began by attempting to soak off the gel polish I'd put on her back in March.  All of a sudden Sabrina stomped down the hall while dragging her hand along the wall for balance (it's just the way she walks) and she went to the kitchen to make more food.  On the way back she mumbled something about us coming back there to hang out with her, but I told her I thought she should sleep.  This happened several more times while I worked on Beth's nails.

Well, Beth's polish did not come off easy.  It took a decent amount of soaking and buffing, but I was making progress when Beth started nodding off on me, too.  She apologized a few times and then eventually gave in to it - putting a towel over her face and full-on laying down on the couch.  As I went to see what the clearly-awake Sabrina was up to I thought to myself "At least I got her old polish off."  (Sabrina had been teasing me that I forgot to leave them acetone and that they looked like they had been playing in Satan's bootyhole, so...)

Got to Sabrina's room and she was still eating and nodding.  She would talk to me and then crash, like a robot being booted up and then powered off.  I was able to get from her that she wanted her old polish off (which I knew, but right now?!) so I worked on one hand while she ate with the other between bouts of crashing out.  I asked her why she didn't just sleep and she said it was because I came a long way to see her and she wanted to hang out.  Ok, I guess.

Meanwhile, the kids were asking me to get them a hotel and I explained that I was a little busy and that they should tag Shaun in for help with that.  They did, thank goodness, and by the time I was finished cleaning Sabrina's nails he had them a hotel booked and a Google map address sent to me.  I can't possibly express to you all how much I love this human being.  He makes my life easier even when I'm miles away.

ANYWAY... both Beth and Sabrina had clean nails at this point.  Thank goodness.  Then Sabrina asked me to paint hers again.  I commenced the painting while she nodded in and out of consciousness.  So... painting an unconscious person's nails isn't as easy as removing polish because fresh polish needs to be dried or hardened.  Thank goodness I was using gels because there is no way this would have worked at all with a regular polish.

THEN TO MY SURPRISE Beth woke up and came into Sabrina's room and asked me to paint hers, too.  "Well, ok.  Why not?" I thought.  So I finished Sabrina's and started on Beth's.  Then Sabrina full-on laid down and went to sleep.  Not long after, Beth followed suit (though she was facing Sabrina and they ended up snoozing head-to-feet on their backs).  So I was just standing there at the side of the bed painting nails on a floppy hand and having to literally put Beth's hand in and out of my lamp.  Like, I knew she was up at the butt-crack of morning and I knew she was doing most of the cooking and all that, but I really thought that after her nap she'd be awake.  I was super wrong.

After doing nails a new adventure began:  Taking the kids to the hotel.

First of all - driving at night is not my favorite regardless; driving at night in an unfamiliar place is even worse.  But the kids needed a clean, chill space in which to decompress so I sucked it up and helped them pack the car.  Sabrina woke up to tell them goodbye and thank them for coming and she apologized and hoped it wasn't her that was the reason they were leaving.  I think everyone parted on good terms so that was great.  I opened the link Shaun sent to the hotel and away we went!

The hotel was only 8 minutes away... supposedly.  It took us much longer.  There was construction, I was driving on the interstate to this 8-minute-away place, there were several of these hotels in a clump with the same main name, and one road was called something different on the map than in real life.  It was a GREAT time.  I (unknowingly) stopped in the middle of an intersection.  When Shadow pointed it out I almost turned the wrong way down a one-way street to escape - he saved the day on that one, too.  It was just insanity.  But we somehow made it safely to the (correct) hotel.

I got the kids checked in and walked them to their room and then started my journey back to Sabrina's.  I wanted to fill up my gas tank in the cool of the night rather than the heat of the day when I was leaving the next day so I stopped at a Circle K.  They didn't take cards at the pump and that pissed me off so I left.  Google said there was another gas station 400 feet away.  Google lied.  I drove straight until I found one (I didn't mind the breather and the quiet so why the hell not?)

I found a gas stationed that looked clean and mostly empty.  Sabrina had given me money to get her some cigarettes so I went in for that and to grab some water and a tea for myself.  The tea I wanted was wayyy up high were I couldn't reach it so I asked a youth to help me.  He seemed happy to, thank goodness.  Then I filled up the car and headed back to Sabrina's.

Ok, look.  At this point I was EXHAUSTED.  I had barely slept the night before.  Aside from the noise of the house and Sabrina and Beth, there was noise from the street and I also had nightmares.  Also, Beth's room was freezing, but under the blanket I was sweating out all of my precious fluids - there was NO happy medium.  THEN there was being around all of the people, and worrying about the kids who clearly wanted out of there ASAP after the pool, and the smoke was making me feel shitty, and the adrenaline of being bad at driving in the city at night... anyway, what I'm saying is that I did something dumb so just give me a break.

I navigated back to Sabrina's neighborhood and drove around for a while - not on purpose.  Street names and numbers were starting to look familiar.  I was thinking to myself "I'm pretty. fucking. sure. she lives like, right here somewhere.  What the fuck is up with my phone?"  It was at that moment I got a text from Kira asking if I was back yet and if I was ok.  I paused in the empty street and replied to her that I was close, but couldn't quite find the house.  Then I checked my data... and it was off.  *facepalm*  Google was doing its best and got me as close at it could, but I guess it didn't have the exact data point so it had me circling her house.  Wow.  Just fucking wow.  LMAO

I was like, 10 feet away from her house when I figured out what was going on.  I was so flustered that I just needed a minute.  I called and talked to Shaun for a few in the car before I went back in the house.  I missed his voice and his face and all of him so I just needed that phone call.  Beth popped out the front door and I told her I was on the phone and would be in shortly.  I think she said she'd leave it unlocked for me, but I really didn't know or care by that point.

Anyway, got up the 'nads to go back in.  Sabrina and Beth were, by this point, completely rested and refreshed!  O_O  Beth wanted to do karaoke!  I hated to be a downer, but with my drive the next day and all that I just wanted to get some rest.  I hung out and snacked and chatted and then went back to the ice box to sleep.  (I did tell Beth I'd be happy to take the couch and she could have her room, but she said she was awake and would probably be cleaning and noisy so I'd better take her room again.  So I did.)

And then I had a lovely and refreshing sleep with no interruptions.

Hahahahahahahhaahahahahahahahahahahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

It must have been before 6 in the morning when Beth snuck in her room with a flashlight again.  It might have been close to 7 when she and Sabrina loudly argued about when I needed to wake up to get the kids.  Beth was sure I needed to get up right then so I could get them by 11.  Sabrina said it was too early to wake me up and to let me sleep.  No one considered that I might have set an alarm on my phone for myself.

I'm not sure what time it was when Beth came in again, but she did.  And not with a flashlight, either.  She busted in her room, turned the light on, and almost yelled from the door "I'm leaving now, Blu, it was great to see you, I hope I get to see you again soon, thanks for coming, etc.," while I was on my stomach straining my neck to look at her, eyes squinting, trying to reply though she wasn't really pausing.  Then she turned off the light and disappeared.

Next thing I know (I must have dozed back off) Sabrina was knocking on the door saying it was 9:30 and I should probably get up to get the kids.  "Ok!" I replied.  Then I laid there - thinking my alarm would go off at any minute since it was 9:30 and that is what I set it for.  It never did.  I looked at my phone and it was 8:57.  "What in the actual fuck is going on around here?!" I screamed internally - and then got up.

Beth actually did make it back before I left so she got to see me off.  Leaving wasn't too hard.  I had gathered up all of my stuff the night before and they couldn't accidentally keep me because they knew I had a deadline to get the kids.  So... I gathered my stuff and away I went!

I found the hotel much easier the second go around.  We stopped and got fast-food breakfast before leaving Phoenix.  One of the kids said Phoenix reminded them of Grand Theft Auto - and I could TOTALLY see that.  LMAO  We ate and then had a beautiful scenic drive back and the kids were like "What the fuck?!" and laughing as they recounted their experiences from the last couple of days.  We made it home and I was SUPER HAPPY to see my husbang.  I smelled terrible and took a shower almost immediately and me and the kids threw all of our clothes from the trip in the washer together shortly after that.  It took two washes to get the cigarette funk out of our clothes.  It took me several days to get it out of my head.  It also took me a couple of days of sleep / laying alone in my bed to recharge my battery enough to do chores or really interact with anyone else.

The kids were happy to be home.  Kira was so excited to see her kitty wuss.  Shadow was pretty chill and didn't say much other than that he wrote down some of the shit Sabrina said because it was so amusing - like "You can't get high enough to make Spongebob.  Fuckin' squirrel in an astronaut suit under the sea? What kind of fucked up shit is that?"

I guess that reminds me of a little Sabrina story of my own and it's the perfect ending to this blog.  While chatting before I left, Sabrina asked me "Have you ever been so fucking mad at yourself?  Like goddamn."  And I was like "I don't know.  Why?"  And she said this:  "Before I woke up I was dreaming I was on a pier out on the water.  And it was so perdy and peaceful.  And sometimes you gotta spit, you know?  So I got up this super big, nasty wad of spit and I spit it out into the water.  But the problem was, I was laying on my back in my bed - I wuttn' out on no pier - and I spit all over my own face.  That's so fuckin' fucked up, man. I was mad as hell."

My first "only found here" Blu.FYI post

This site is obviously a work in progress.  I've found that no matter what platform I end up using - be it MySpace, Facebook, etc., - I end up blogging.  Apparently, writers gonna write. 🤷  Long ago I copied my content from MySpace and now I'm re-claiming what I can from Facebook by visiting their "Memories" section every day.  I am (THANKFULLY!) almost half-way through a year of this project.  But this post - this is a Blu.FYI original.  It's about a weekend visiting friends and I... I don't want to blast them on Facebook, but this story needs out of me.

One more thing before I begin:  It is not meant to be mean-spirited.  I love the main character and I know that she's going through a lot, but fuck if this shit isn't entertaining.  So without further ado...

Backstory:  I was raised a little redneck trailer-park kid.  I don't want to act like I was ostracized for not embracing that life, but 100% I was a gray sheep.  Thankfully, the only part of that upbringing that stuck was my southern accent; I can't hear it, but everyone else can.  In Alabama I was often asked where I was from - so I know I don't straight-up sound like cornbread, but people who are not from the south can definitely tell I'm from there.

Anyway, as kids my brother and I had a babysitter named Sabrina.  Ooh, she is a whole story and I hope I get to tell you all about her one of these days, but for now just know that our moms were the best of friends for a large portion of our childhoods and that she was only 5 years older than me.  She was so much more mature than we were, though.  She was also a little bad.  I liked her a lot.

I remember random things about her time babysitting us.  Like that time she was sure that "suppost" was a word and didn't believe me when I told her it was "supposed to."  I remember her letting us smoke our parents' cigarette butts because we wanted to try it.  I remember the name of her first serious boyfriend - Joshua Shane Brown.  I remember her reading the "POW!" and "BAM!" and such words for my brother when he watched Batman on TV.  I remember her always doing weird stuff with the toilet paper and I found out recently that she was making a pipe to smoke weed with from the cardboard roll.  I remember her combing her hair until she built up static and then holding the comb near a small stream of water and it bending.  I remember one time she let me ride her horse and then put food it in it's dish and it started running towards the electric fence and I thought it wouldn't stop and I'd be electrocuted so I jumped off it and got her ass beaten.  So. many. memories.

Eventually we got old enough that we didn't need a babysitter and our moms stopped being friends and time went on.  Social media wasn't a thing 20 years ago so we lost touch because it was easy to do.  But a few years ago I came across her on Facebook and we reconnected.  And it felt nice - not like a friend relationship, but family.  She had moved 2 hours away from our hometown and asked me to come visit - I finally had a car that would take me so I did.  And let me tell you - we spent the WHOLE NIGHT talking and catching up.  It was insane.  Neither of us had planned for it to turn into a sleepover, but we talked until 5 in the morning and I was exhausted so I told my husbang that I needed some sleep before driving home.  It was great, plus some other stuff that I'll write about later.  I have a couple of other visits that I hope to write about eventually.  But for now let me try to focus.

Frontstory:  My visit previous to the one I am writing about now was in Phoenix, AZ.  Sabrina and I had both moved to a more western location so it wasn't an Alabama to Arizona drive.  It was actually only 6 - 7 hours away from me and quite scenic.  A note:  At some point after her move she told me on the phone that she was terminally ill.  So at that visit when she asked me "If I'm still alive on my birthday will you come back for a birthday party?"  "Hell yeah!" was my response.  And this is how that went down.

Sabrina had already met and hung out with Kira and Shaun.  She met Shadow when he was a baby... random chance encounters at the grocery store with my mom and stuff like that.  Since she was having an actual birthday party with cake and swimming and all that she really wanted the whole family to come and celebrate with her.  Unfortunately, Leon still needed injections every 24 hours and regardless of that we needed someone to watch the animals so Shaun stayed behind to care for everyone.  The kids and I headed out about 1:30 Friday afternoon.

The drive was, of course, beautiful.  Kira sat up front most of the way and we chatted and talked.  Shadow chilled in the back and listened to music.  They both took pictures of the scenery along the way.  It was pretty pleasant.  And then we got to Sabrina's.

It was close to 10 pm and I was so tired.  I knew what I was getting into from previous visits and I tried to brace the kids for it without making them dread the trip.  I was, let's just say... ineffective.

A little backstory here:  I don't drink or smoke.  Neither do the kids.  Shaun rarely drinks and if he does it's to chill his nerves - not to get drunk.  I grew up with an alcoholic dad and parents who smoked cigarettes all the time in our presence and probably pot when we weren't around.  My mom tried to keep me shielded from alcohol and pot and anything else; I ended up trying to keep Shadow away from it all because I know that addiction runs in our family.  Kira was exposed to a lot of things before we got her, but that never meant she was comfortable with it.  Alcohol, of course, is legal and now marijuana is, too.  I'm ok with that fact (for real I am - even though I'm not a fan of rooms full of smoke or being the only sober person at a place), but cigarettes?  Ew.  The secondhand smoke still makes me feel awful.

Since I won't get far in this story if I have to tell you every time a drug is consumed - let me try my best to describe it now.  I need to convey to you that the smoking was continuous - if not from Sabrina, then from her roommate, Beth.  It was going on CONSTANTLY.  I don't know how else to be clear that Sabrina chain-smoked cigarettes all day, as well as smoked several joints - and both of those things on top of chasing vodka with Gatorade all through the day.  There was LITERALLY almost never a time she was without a drug in her hand.  And like, I'm not mad at that - her body, her choice.  The alcohol wasn't a big deal at all - at this point she drinks to be normal.  But she wasn't supposed to be smoking in the house (she told me at my previous visit that her landlord didn't want her to) and it would've been super cool for us if she could have avoided it, as well.  But that is not what happened.

We arrived at Sabrina's house and you could smell the smoke outside before the door even opened.  Kira was like "OMG.  I can smell it already!"  I don't think I realized that before (or either it wasn't that bad at that point), but it was certainly true now.  But we were there, tired, and had a party to attend the next day so we went ahead in.

Sabrina mentioned that she wanted her nails done, but we arrived too late...  Beth mentioned that she was going to make tacos, but we'd gotten there so late...  I apologized for coming late, but we tried our best.  However, the kids are almost always up for food and made it known so Kira volunteered to help Beth in the kitchen.  Off she and Beth went to get to know each other and make tacos.  Shadow and I stayed in Sabrina's lair (her bedroom with all the things she needs where she spends most of her time) and Sabrina asked Shadow some "getting to know you" type of questions.  Not off to a bad start!  Everything was chill, we hung out and had tacos, and got ready for bed shortly after a long day in the car.

Sabrina and Beth had pulled out the sofa in the living room for the kids to sleep on.  Beth told me I could sleep in her room and she'd bunk with Sabrina.  Sounded like a plan to me!  And we all went to bed and had a peaceful night's sleep.

Ha.

First of all, I was barely asleep when Beth entered her room with a flashlight looking for something she'd forgotten.  No biggie - it happens.  Finally, I was able to drift off to sleep again, but what felt like only a few hours later I was re-awoken... by the sound of someone shoveling gravel?!  "Wtf?!," I thought.  Then I heard a voice outside asking what was going on.  Beth replied that she was shoveling the gravel before it got hot.  It went on a few more minutes and then I heard another voice speak to her and Beth explained it yet again.  TWO NEIGHBORS COMPLAINED TO HER FACE about gravel-shoveling at this hour and BETH DID NOT STOP!  I didn't check my phone, but did peel back the black-out curtain and IT WAS BARELY DAYLIGHT.  AND BETH WAS OUTSIDE SHOVELING GRAVEL IN THE FRONT YARD.

Ooo-kay then.  Beth finally finished and I managed somehow to go back to sleep.  Not long after that Sabrina started vomiting.  (She's terminally sick and this happens.  Often.)  But does she really have to wretch and practically scream with every heave?  I don't know.  She might.  It might really hurt to vomit in her condition.  But the fact that she is loud no matter what makes me think it's just the way she lives her life.

After that pleasant wake up I drifted off again - only to be awakened by Beth loudly stomping through the kitchen and making breakfast.  By this point I'd received a text from Kira stating that they would need a hotel tonight.  I asked why and got the whole spiel - the gravel-raking, the vomiting, people stomping through the living room where they were trying to sleep to get to the kitchen.  Understood, kiddos.  Let's just try to get through the party.

This party, btw, was set to start at 10:30.  IN THE MORNING.  I don't think I've ever in my life heard of a birthday party that started so early, but ok.  I got up at 8-something and Beth was running around prepping food and cooking.  Then she left to run some errands.  I sat with the kids and tried to get my bearings and eat my oatmeal.  Then we needed to fold up the couch and get the living room ready for people.

Sabrina asked me to do her nails before her guests arrived (soak off 3-month-old gel and put on new when your guests are due in 15 minutes?  Not happening, but we can try, I guess.)  I wrapped her fingers with foil in cotton balls and acetone.  The doorbell rang.  She opened the door, then screamed "Oh shit, let me get my dogs!" while running them to the door to go out back.  Then she said "I'm sorry, Blu, I can't do this shit right now!" and tore off the foil-covered cotton balls and threw them in the trash.  She went back to greet her guest and a picture in a frame to the left of the door chose that moment to crash to the floor, breaking glass shards all into the dog bed underneath.  I cleaned that up while she spoke to her guest.  Then another arrived (without incident).

Pretty soon everyone that was coming was there and we were instructed to make ourselves a plate of food and eat it.  After that was done Sabrina called us to behold her beautiful cake, lit some sparklers and stood them in a shot glass behind it (she didn't want candles stuck in it), and proceeded to sing an impromptu "Happy Birthday to me ... rednecks are great ... thank you for being here ... something something else ... " song before cutting and handing out cake.

Let me point out real quick that I grew up in chaos with people around all the time.  My mom had a bad temper and didn't like to be embarrassed or refused so I was completely used to having my comfort ignored and I guess I can revert back to "survive this without making a scene" mode sometimes.  I ate hamburgers even though I don't eat beef.  I ate the food even though Kira told me no one had been washing their hands while preparing it.  I ate the cake even though Sabrina licked the knife she was cutting it with.  These things would have been uncomfortable for me regardless, but there is still a pandemic going on too, you know?  But I did the things.  I did them, ok?

Kira snacked on our gas-station snacks from the trip.  Shadow ate the food.  Then they both hit the pool and I joined a bit later - just sitting on the edge of the pool and dangling my feet in at first.  Beth was all in and Sabrina wanted to be, but was talking to her guests.  We squirted each other with water guns and just chilled.  This, for us, was the best and most calming part of the visit.

I REALLY want to write more, but I feel like this is gonna be at least a two-parter.  I'm sorry, y'all.  Just typing all of this out has been exhausting.  Stay tuned.