State of the Tamara Address

This is what a blog is for ... to bitch!

And, boy, do I have a lot to bitch about.

My Mom is dying.  And she is a horrible woman.  We never really got along due to her abusive, rage-a-holic (and alcoholic) nature.  I am 52 years old and still terrified of her.

Last time I was out was over Christmas.  We had just discovered she had a brain tumor (the week after Thanksgiving) and her sisters flew me out there so I could spend some time with her.

At that time she said, "Well, rest up.  I am going to put you to work!"

I hate her.

She was so awful to me -- and non-compliant with her doctors and yelling at the nurses -- that one day the chain in the guest toilet broke and I could not get it back together and I was scared to death to tell her.

I cried on the phone to my friend Hope .. that's how scared I was.

I never did tell her.  My brother kept it a secret and just quietly fixed it the next time he was out there. 

So, I talk to her on the phone today and she says, "Rest up!  I'm going to put you to work!" and then wonders why I am not more excited about the trip.

Could we please remember I am on DISABILITY?  (for Fibromyalgia and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome)  If the government recognizes me as disabled, why can't she?

I am so stressed I feel like I could EXPLODE.

I hate to travel anyway.  This doesn't make me feel like doing it.

Plus, I worry when I leave my cats and my apartment.

The police told me that the dive bar right next door to me (Magoo's) goes from being an old timer bar fly establishment to a gang banging hang out.  I hope it is less and less gang.  Obviously.

And I thought my gang problem in LA was bad!!!!

I am stewing in fear.  

And, yet, I am not. 

I am not out late (not anymore ... guess once I moved to KoreaTown that cured me of wanting to go out late!!!) and do not go to the bar.  The cops said that the gang crowd just drinks, plays pool and then leaves -- drive off to their Hoover 'hood. 

I watched a documentary a few nights ago which was supposed to be on the gang situation in Phoenix but turned out to be Portland.

They came up from LA in the early 80's.  There were no gangs here so they could sell their drugs and trade their guns unobstructed.

But, once I learned more about them and saw their faces, I was less afraid.  If anything does happen to me ... well, it is out of my control.  It is in God's hands and after seeing them and their colors (Orange) and learned about the Rollin 60's and EBKs, I have been a lot less afraid.

It is just when I think of going out of town I am fearful.

But, once I have left I am usually OK.

Hate spending the night in my Mom's place.  It is a scary place.  I do not do well in homes -- esp when the only other person is a frail, elderly woman.  Maybe I will sleep on the couch there.

That might soothe me.