Writing 101: Opposite Tuesday

Today’s writing challenge was to writing about my worst fear in a style that is not my own.  Rebel that I am, I refuse to talk of anything that is negative.  Fear makes one weak and I plan on staying strong.  Also I wouldn’t have a clue on how to be someone other than who I was born to be.

Good to know that if you hadn’t asked us to write about something negative, I would be bitching about something.  I guess my fear is that I will become a slave to what I have learned from my life experiences and not a slave to the truth.

Luckily I know better.  I know Jesus.  The thing that I love the most about Him is His human side.  The parts where I heard He cried because He dared to care about a world that didn’t love Him back.  The parts in the New Testament that say He chose to give His life because He loved us anyway.  This is the part that tells me He was not completely human because most of us would do the opposite.  Even though I know Christ, I still don’t want to do things for those that are my enemy.  I will pray for them and not harm them, but I seldom will actually go out of my way to help someone that is against me.  Why would I?  Why would anyone?  We know there is a good chance that the enemy will become strong with this help and destroy us.  This is the way of the world.  The way that Jesus told us was wrong.

I loved the part where He warned us that when the world hates us for walking in love and the light, remember that it hated Him first.  Most of us hate being hated so we are careful how we walk, careful not to rock any boats and provoke our enemies.  I love the part that most forget about and that is the believers will do even greater works than He because He goes to the Father.

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keepsmiling

 

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Writing 101: Cereal Saga Part III

whitebleedingheart3Going completely rogue on this one so I can keep it consistent with the first two parts of my “cereal killer” theme.

So, moving, to be or not to be whatever.  I was picking up a few items at the local grocer this weekend and a woman walked past me that looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.  She looked at me as well, but kept walking.  A little while later we passed again and she said “You look familiar to me, then before I could think she said it was from the apartment complex where we were both filling out forms in the office.  The minute she reminded me, it fell into place.

She asked me if I had heard back from them.  I told her I hadn’t.  She said that they were called a couple of weeks ago about a number of apartments that were available.  I know they were higher on the waiting list than I was so didn’t sweat that part of it, but was concerned because it means they will be calling me very shortly as well.  It may be tomorrow, maybe next month, but it will be soon.  Again that inner hesitation and dread because I refuse to give in to what appears to be my fate.

I refuse to believe there is not going to be some help, or saving grace that will prevent my ultimate failure because, I reason to myself, none of this is my fault.  Good thing that stops bad things from happening to good people (sarcasm).  So I went out to lunch with some of my neighbors today and that prevented me from having to think about it for a while.  Meantime I am slowly cleaning things up, getting ready for another yard sale.  Even called one of my brothers to let his friend know he can pick a few things up soon.

All this shows that I’m at least starting to face up to the fact that life is change.  I want good change because I’ve had enough shocks and bad news.  Surprises are OK, because a surprise is always positive, like “Surprise Parties!”  Like finding out I’ve won the lotto and not necessarily some huge amount, but just enough to pay off my home or at least the difference when I sell it.  No bankruptcy then.  I’m preparing myself for the good things to come in life so I won’t be too shocked when it happens.

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Writing 101: Cereal Postmortem

Calumetcemetaryerasetexture2Woke up refreshed for the first time in a while after sleeping approximately 8 hours.  That’s a huge deal for me.

I can just recall the part of my dream before waking of looking out of a large window onto a funeral procession of old.

I felt relaxed and calm, not sad or upset so I don’t know what it really represented to me.

With new eyes and a different outlook, I was able to find some important information to resolve one of the problems I have been working on.  Finding this out has made a difference on what I will be doing in the near future and has given me hope.  I still have a lot of things up in the air, but I finally have my hope back which is everything to me.

 

Writing 101: Baby It’s Storming!

“Homes are a great investment.”

“And even if they don’t keep going up in value, I will at least be able to sell my home for what I paid for it with all the sweat equity and improvements.”

Those were the kinds of comments and thought behind the purchase of a home I made at the end of 2004, at what was to be the height of the mortgage movement, right before the meltdown.

After losing my job years ago, I have managed to hang on to this interest only ARM between other part-time jobs and unemployment.

I am now facing repayment of the principle in a home that been washed out in the eye of that mortgage storm.  It is now worth approximately half of what I now owe on both mortgages.  The mortgage “expert” did no money down because she could just mortgage this into my home payments, easy peasy my arse!

The new payments to come will be over $500. more a month and I can’t afford the current payments.  I have run out of all savings and almost all options at this time so I guess when it rains it really does “poor.”

What makes me angry is the fact that all this has happened through no fault of my own.  Since I purchased my home as a much older woman I as well as the banks knew that I would never be able to pay that home off in my lifetime since they had access to all my financial information.  I had planned on selling it a few years down the line for at least what I paid of it, no problem.  This was not to be since within a couple of years there was trouble in the mortgage industry and the value of my home was down about $10,000 or so.  I decided to try and keep it longer in hopes the value would soon rebound.  My bad!

I played by the rules, this was not what I wanted to happen but it has.  I think of a number of people I knew that deliberately walked away from their homes beside the fact that they still could afford the payments at the time.  Now they have everything so slanted to help the mortgage companies only and the hell with private citizens trying to survive.  This is killing me because I have an immaculate credit history and I am very anal retentive.  What makes me angry is they will harass and molest me and try to make me look like the bad guy, even though I have no choice or control in what has happened in my circumstances and they are the very ones that caused all these problems.

I have begun to get documentation together to sue my original mortgage company to at least take this predatory mortgage off my hands if I can do this pro-bono!  Wish me luck!

Writing 101: Four Bedrooms and Two Full Baths

We lived with my maternal grandmother when I was 12.  My entire family was intact, aside from the fact that my baby brother was not to be born until I was sweet 16, so there was grams, mom and dad, me, my sister and three brothers.

We lived in a four bedroom brick ranch with full basement and two full bathrooms.  We managed OK with the 8 of us and our dog Ranger.  We moved into this brand new subdivision just being built in the late 1950’s with no sod or trees on any of the streets yet.  We had a huge backyard that turned to mud every time it rained.  Apparently they purchased the home before it was built and would always show me the blueprint of the lots to prove that we had the largest lot in our subdivision and that’s why they selected it.

I previously printed a picture of us kids with my cousin in my favorite room in that house, the kitchen.

 

Writing 101: Day Eight in the Hospital

Not as serious as it sounds, routine blood work for physical.

Walking the same path, I am reminded of the last time I saw my friend, but she didn’t see me and I hesitated talking to her, afraid it would rouse her from her coma of death.  A coma she no longer wanted to wake from because she decided it was her time to go home.

I watch the hospital employees striding by and the patients walk slower.  Most have no where else they have to be.

I smell that coffee smell in the hall because they chose to put a shop in one of the hallways.  I was fasting so really wanting a cup, even if it’s de-café now.

The lab technician is reading something when I come into the office.  She asks me for something and I don’t hear all of it for some reason.  She repeats it again and seems annoyed.  I’m praying she’s not the one that will be drawing my blood.

She’s is the one and when she begins her task, her demeanor changes completely and even though my arm has a poke in it, I’ve had worse phlebotomists.