I need her back.

‘Your network is full of jerks then. Sorry my blog isn’t “cute” enough. I am SO SICK OF THIS SHIT. I want a list of reasons why it was not appropriate. I am not buying anything, I am not selling anything. I have one of the most extensive and multi-talented blogs to have come out of the ‘blogosphere’ (stupid word) in the past year. If you actually looked at the damn thing you would see that my ad is quite appropriate. I don’t even run ads!

You should really re-think your decision. My blog is no joke. Nor am I. I was willing to spend 49.00 of my last 100.00 dollars to place an ad with you. I selected my words carefully.

“This girl is MAD. She needs HELP.”

How in the world is that inappropriate? It could mean several different things. I think it is quite lovely, for an ad. Maybe it was confusing to your editorial team?

Oh – of course, this is a no reply address. Of course.

It is shit like this that makes me so damn mad.

(Oh, I just realized it was probably because the ad could be misread as referring to other bloggers, on whose feedjit devices the ad shows up on. That’s sort of funny. I get it. Sorry.)

(I jumped to a conclusion. It’s part of the being mad thing.)

On Mon, Oct 18, 2010 at 2:04 AM, Feedjit wrote:

Sorry but your Feedjit ad was not approved. The reason our editorial team gave is as follows:
Not appropriate for our network.
You will receive a full refund shortly. Please visit our ad setup page and resubmit your ad after remedying any issues mentioned above.

The Feedjit Team.


The houseguest must be gone by today, as I have been trying to encourage him – gently and then quite assertively – to FIND SOMEWHERE ELSE – for 3 days! He was really great at making crepes, for about a day, but he seems also to be very keen on passively taking advantage of people’s kindness and tolerance and if he is not out of my house – FINALLY AND PERMANENTLY – by the noon hour, a full three days (!) (of MY TIME) spent telling him:

“You need to work something else out. You ate my kid’s ice cream and when she went to look for it, it was not there. You ate the cookies – all of them – and did not admit to me that you had done so when I commented that I was looking forward to having some. You agreed to pay me rent in the amount of 150.00 per month, with a 50.00 utility fee and YOU HAVE PAID ME NOTHING.”

Well, I will have to call his mother, again. Who needs to keep in mind that it was days ago that , while I promised her I wouldn’t leave him with no place to go, I have worked quite hard to elucidate the options for him and if he is left with no place to go, well that is – at this point – his own doing.

I am hereby releasing myself from any further responsibility.

Some people seem to think the world owes them something and that they can simply take and take and take and take…and even when people make it ABUNDANTLY CLEAR that such mindless taking will not be tolerated…well, they still try to take…and then sulk.

See, the nice thing is that I DON’T NEED ANYONE and I don’t give a damn if some happenstance guest in this home thinks I am bitch for not letting them passively roll me…


I can be a taker, too. But, I have been trying to move away from that sort of behavior for quite some now. I am of limited option right now. I did, however, tell my family that if they had any intention of going through with the sale of this house that I was not scared to be homeless.

“Please just let me keep my car and my wireless service.”

Ha ha.

They are not going to put me out, but I still feel threatened. Because they could if they wanted to. It is their house. I get that. Seeing me homeless would be a dream come true for some folks…sad sick folks mostly…mostly just one or two. The request for continued wireless is so that I can continue to keep a ‘record of my failures’ (quotation to attribute phrase to a song not written by me) because one day the kids will be older and they will have questions about what was happening with mom when they weren’t allowed to see her.

(‘document my love’)

Answer: Nothing. I am just trying to navigate the impossible situation that took control away from me. I am just trying to keep the house clean while I wait for people to realize they were wrong. Why can’t I tell them? Well, sometimes you just have to wait for people to figure it out on their own.

I know am in in full-protection mode.


I am going to try to help the Varick Chapel cook food for people on Wednesday. I think I might 1/2 way trust the Pastor there and I know I trust the sound of voices singing loudly.

Actually, I think almost everyone – other than my kids – needs to stay away from me. Until they are able to treat me appropriately. That may not ever happen. I am okay with that. Like I said, I don’t – after all – need anyone.

It’s is the strangest thing. I have spoken so many words in my walking and talking life lately that were well-modulated and appropriately assertive and people just, like, totally ignore them


To all of you. STOP.

Read my psych eval. – on the sidebar, SUBJECTIVE PROOF OF SUPPOSED SELF. It was done almost a year ago. In anticipation of some horrific shit shit like this, mostly. It is edited for the confidentiality of haters. Who I am still reluctant to openly indict or slander.

Because shit-talking people is – always – a sign of very poor character.

Did you know that while I was on vacation, in early August – someone went to parties and openly tried to solicit negative feedback on the subject of Faith R. Rhyne. My neighbor has told me that he felt he had to agree, just to get the topic to drop. Did you know that in early September, I was called and told that principal of my children’s school had concerns about them “sleeping here” – of course, I asked her (I was admittedly a little upset, I had been pretty much constantly harassed and intimidated for months at that point) and she told me that she had said nothing of the sort.

Did you know? Yup. You did.

I don’t know if she did or not.
I don’t trust anyone. I had a nightmare, night before last, in which the other mothers came and took my kids and it was night time and the mothers skipped and help hands as they pranced down my driveway.

Of course, that does sort of make sense, given the events of the 14th. Shame upon shame.

I always felt sad for the things we put into jars.

I will work all this out. Alone, if need be. However, it would be nice if people would consider what they know to be true. I made the call. Because I was terrified.

Now, in the aftermath of that call…I am even more terrified. I am in a jar…at least that’s how it feels – like the mean kid who was trying to chase me down finally caught me, pulled off my wings and called his friends, literally, to come and watch…

Shame on him. Really.

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