Archive for the 'parenting' Category


How To Properly Insult Someone (updated, again)

After dealing with my son’s dad, his last three girlfriends (one of whom sent 350+ in 24 hours from different email addresses–one using my cats name. Do the math. Yeah.), a person who once lied to sound more like me but when called on her rewriting history decided to try and insult me (13 texts when I awoke. Because I’d blocked her on Facebook. Thirteen. Couldn’t make it up if I tried.), etc, I have decided to write a short piece on How To Properly Insult Someone. I.e., How To Insult Someone So You Are Not Laughed At / Made To Look Like An Idiot.

RULE #1: Stick to the truth. The truth hurts.

RULE #2: If the person is better looking than you, do not attempt to insult their looks.

An example from my most recent hater, “Nobody likes a fat girl with crooked eyebrows”. (*snort* *giggle*)
This is coming from a girl whose eyes are close set (a sign of lower intelligence) and a huge man-jaw, made ever more prominent by her latest eating disorder.
First off, I chose to get fat so guys wouldn’t hit on me. Yet they still do. A lot. So that was a miss.
As for my eyebrows? I didn’t care if they were even or not.
As for why they are penciled on? See…

RULE #3: Find Our The Insultees Medical History So You Don’t Look Stupid

I had cervical cancer my last year of college, plus a few more years. My brows grow in patchy. So I pencil them. If I care, I make them even. If I’m meeting someone who had one friend til I introduced her to mine, I don’t care if they’re even.
This latest frenemy thinks I’m living in the past. If someone refers to the past, but won’t go into detail, it’s probably so you won’t be hurt…

RULE #4:  If You’re Trying To Insult Someone Who Refers to Part, But Not All Of The Past– They Are Trying To Spare You The Truth

“You’re obsessed with the past because it was the best time of your life…I’ve blocked you from my iPhone.” (Recent frenemy, once again showing lower intelligence.)

First, you’re showing your lack of intelligence by having an iPhone. The most basic research will show you the many problems with iPhone. Androids are infinitely better.
Secondly, no, my life with my son, now, is the best. HOWEVER, what I didn’t want you to know is how they were laughing AT you, not WITH you.
We would try and schedule hang-outs without you because someone would have to take care of you (tho we all knew you had to be faking it. But since everyone else was above average intelligence, we weren’t sure if things affected one if average intelligence– you– differently.)
One of the many jokes about you was if I’d kissed a boy, he’d better not get drunk around you because you had a thing for my leftovers but they had to be drunk to do you.
When we met for lunch and you said you didn’t meet up with a certain someone because you’d go at it– how many times in the first few years was he sober during the act? Did he ever take you on a date like he did with me? (BTW, I know the answers, from him. No, he’s never been sober. No date; wouldn’t want to be alone in public. Still embarrassed. Wouldn’t hook up now unless drunk and horny and first one there because you’d apparently do anyone I’ve been with.)

RULE #5: Know What You’re Talking About
Back to the frenemy. I didn’t read thru all thirteen texts but from what I read:

– you call me crazy. (Lol.) I have been in therapy, by choice, with various therapists over the years, but none for less than three years with one visit a week. All of them have declared me sane. Quite sane.
Can you say the same? (Nope.)
When I blocked you on Facebook, you texted me to tell me I was blocked from your iPhone. Yet when I used a friends phone to text you back, lmao, you said, lol, that I was crazy for using another method of response.
What does that make you for texting me when blocked on Facebook??? Lmao.
Those close set eyes give away your average IQ (nothing to be ashamed of. Someone has to be average.), so I’ll explain:
According to YOUR logic, if one is blocked on one medium and uses another, they are crazy. Like when you were blocked on Facebook and texted me, you were… (Psst. The answer is “crazy”.)

Update: despite being told I was using a friend’s phone, frenemy texted him. Something about how ” [I] win, she’s going back to [her] life! Thin”.
He called to tell me of the text and asked if “thin” was all she had and could text and tell her what a pathetic nutjob she is.
I told him not to. If thin is all she has, she is more sad and pathetic than we all thought (my friends and I).
Anyone can lose weight. I’ve been thin. I’ve been so thin that one could see the outline of my internal organs. (Tho I owe that to the cancer.)
And as fluffy as I may be, on my worst day, in my attention getting jeans, T, and sneakers, with uneven eyebrows, I still LOOK BETTER THAN YOU.
You see, your hatred and jealousy make you ugly on the inside and it shows on the outside.
Yet I don’t hate you. I pity you. If thin is all you’ve got– not your son or husband, etc– I feel bad for you.

– you made some comment about getting a job and people with fibromyalgia having jobs blah blah blah. First off, nobody with fibromyalgia has JUST fibromyalgia. Fibromyalgia ALWAYS comes with another illness.
So, let’s see, first of all, fibromyalgia is not all that is physically wrong with me. But the other things — herniated discs and such — are none of your concern.
Let’s just say with my physical disabilities, I have been unable to find a job. So I created one: I work as a freelance / ghostwriter.
Which brings me to your husband. You said he couldn’t find a job. He has no disabilities. Where’s the problem?
Oh, wait: solution.
Marry a girl with low self-esteem. Have her work to support husband AND his kids from previous relationship.
Give Low Self-esteem a kid.
Send Low Self-esteem out to work and support husband, kid with husband, and husbands kids from previous relationship.
Problem solved for husband.

– from an ex of my son’s dad: ” it must suck knowing that your dad hates you.”
(Odd. Then why does he make a point of seeing my son and I once a week? And email more often?)
“It must suck knowing that your mom hates you.”
(Hmmm… Which “mom”? Biological? The ex-stepmother who was more a mom than my own, whom I’m still in touch with despite being married to a man– not my dad–for the past two decades?)
Put those two together and you get someone throwing darts with a blindfold. (Oddly, her eyes were close together, too.)

– I cut and pasted the thirteen texts sent by frenemy so friends could read and comment. Apparently, frenemy says something about my being an ” attention whore”. Well, that really gave me a good laugh. But you know what? She must be right since it took her 6+ years to get thru a city college and she has a masters in sociology, the easiest of all studies.
But she was referring to me. The attention whore who didn’t leave her apartment for two years. The girl who got fat so guys wouldn’t hit on her. The girl who has worn jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers or Doc Martins her whole life.
Methinks someone is jealous that the girl in the last paragraph received more compliments than the frenemy in her ill-fitting dress the time they hung out.
It must suck to starve yourself, get all dressed up, and still have everyone look at the “fat chick with uneven eyebrows” and have nobody look at you.
I see where the hate comes from.

– from all three of my son’s dad’s girlfriends: “he doesn’t want you. He wants me.” Oh, please. Take him. I’ll PAY you to take him!
Each girlfriend was the same.
They’d say he doesn’t want me, move on.
I’d say, “Take him, with my apologies. I don’t want him.”
They’d say, “Then why are you all over him? He tells me everything.”
And I’d say, “So, he’s the one telling you this. But all the calls on his phone are TO me. You’re in front of MY place; I’ve NEVER been to yours.” Etc.
He’d come to me with a choice: have sex or my /our son comes home with cuts and bruises. I said, “Neither. Have sex with your girlfriend. Be a dad to your son. And tell your girl to leave me alone.”
And the truth would come out: he wanted two girls to physically fight over him. And these dumb girls would fall for it, hook, line, and sinker.

I’m sure my frenemy has given me more rules, but, honestly, I have better things to do than read all of her texts. I’ll put them in the folder with the ex-girlfriend who sent 350+ emails in 24 hours a few years ago. One day I’ll read them.
Maybe not.
All I know is Frenemy keeps emailing me and I’ve told her three times: you are harassing me. If you contact me again, I will get a restraining order.
Yup, after all this time, she’s still obsessed with me.
Sadly, even after reading this blog, the only insult she could come up with is, “Your blog with zero comments.” Lol. As if all comments are public. And, even if I had zero comments, who cares??? I don’t. Apparently she does. I guess she wants her idol to have more public comments…

Either way, the lesson you should take from this is:

RULE #1: Stick To The Truth. The Truth Hurts.

P.S. Frenemy: you know who and what you are.
When diagnosed with cancer, I removed all negativity from my life.
As I’ve told the girlfriends of my son’s dad: do not contact me again or there will be a restraining order against you.
Blessed Be.
Dee Kat


Bloomberg’s Over-Sized Idiocy

I generally try to keep my political opinions to myself, but when I read Bloomberg’s Ban on oversized drinks was going to trial, I felt it time to say something.
We all know that the “sugary drinks” (soda; juice with no real juice; etc.) are unhealthy. They are bad for us. They lead to horrible diseases to numerous to mention.
Which is why these are not “everyday” drinks. As with anything– even healthy foods– the word we need to remember is MODERATION.
At it’s heart, I think this is why Bloomberg is trying to pass this law. What he is forgetting, as he often does, is that we’re not all blessed with his wallet.
I am one of those people. When I buy an extra-large Slurpee on a hot summer day, it isn’t just for me. It is shared by two or more people. Take away the extra-large, which costs about $2, and I can’t afford to buy small drinks for three or more people at $1.25 each.
As for the movies, a family of five can easily spend over $100 for tickets, large drinks (to be shared), etc.
The point is that we are adult Americans who should be given the choice to buy sugary drinks whenever we want. For those like me, who cannot afford two small drinks (which, oddly, cost more than an extra-large), we need that option.
I appreciate Bloomberg’s attempts to make us healthier. But until Bloomberg realizes that a lot of us buy the large because it is a better deal price-wise, there will always be opponents to his proposals.
I would like to see Bloomberg live on welfare / Medicaid / food stamps, with his family, for three summer months. Then let’s see what he has to say about sugary drinks.


Kittens, Puppies, Bunnies, Oh My!

Kittens are so cute, aren’t they?
Put a bow around their neck and they make the purr-fect gift, right?
Puppies,  too.
Then there’s the cute Easter Bunny, hopping around.
Stop right there.
Kittens– like puppies, bunnies at Easter, etc– are NOT gifts. Each year thousands of unwanted kitties, pups, bunnies, etc, are abandoned, abused, killed, and put to sleep.
First, you cannot choose an animal for someone else. An ASPCA gift certificate is much better, as it gives the choice to the human to choose their companion animal.
Second, you need to take certain things into account depending on the animal. And this is not something you can do for someone else. Say you adorable little niece wants a guinea pig. So you take her to the big pet store, buy the cage, some food, bedding, and the cutest guinea pig ever! You bring it all home and wonder why your sibling is angry.
Well, even though your niece said she’d feed it and clean the cage, guess who is going to wind up doing the cleaning, feeding, and eventually playing with the guinea pig once your niece loses interest? (Guinea pigs are very social. Like a human baby, they can actually die from lack of interaction.) Then there’s the cost of bedding, proper food, etc; and did your adorable little niece even have permission to get a pet?
To reiterate: if someone you know wants a pet, make sure that person gets to choose. Otherwise, the pet might wind up in a shelter. Which isn’t fair to anyone involved.


Bad Dad — ARRESTED (again)! pt 1

(This is from 3 June, 2011)

It took BD (Bad Dad, my son N’s biological father) putting me in a choke hold and slamming me to the ground but my son is finally included in the total stay-away restraining order.

BD is spending the weekend in jail. He claims I’m “lucky [he's] so nice” or I’d be arrested, too.

Yes, he’s so nice he’s been abusing my son and me for years. He’s broken every promise he’s ever made. Every time he’s offered to help us he has screwed us at the worst possible moment.

As for being in a relationship, every time he asks me to be in a “real, serious” relationship, he cheats on me soon after.

Well, now I won’t have to deal with that. The most pathetic part? I didn’t know he had a temper for the two years we were friends, and for almost a year after we started dating / living together.

And that’s the BD I like to remember. The one who likes the same reading material I do; who enjoys much of the same tv shows & movies. The BD with the same stupid sense of humour.

And then I think of his temper.

And the fact that I can’t swallow without it hurting, and I want to cry. Because BD will not do anything about his temper. Like most schizos, he thinks it’s everyone else, not him.

I really hope that 5 weeks without his dad will do my son good. I truly believe it will. And with all of the therapists, social workers, etc, who will be seeing him between now and our next court date, hopefully this judge will not be bringing his personal grudges into the courtroom.


Gallery Nucleus Presents A Handful of Dust 25 Years of Sandman Opening On November 23, 2013


sorry, but i HAD to re-post this. after all, i am most thankful for Neil “G-d” Gaiman(@neilhimself)

he has influenced my life in so many positive ways.


Originally posted on :

Screen Shot 2013-11-23 at 6.18.05 AM

Gallery Nucleus is proud to present A Handful of Dust 25 Years of Sandman, an exhibition celebrating the 25th anniversary of DC Comics’ and Neil Gaiman’s critically acclaimed comic book series, The Sandman

With last month’s inaugural issue of Overture, the talented writer picks up the pen once more for his highly anticipated return to The Sandman in what may truly be a dream come true for fans of the franchise.

Hosting a storied collection of artists who have contributed to the groundbreaking narrative (including Mike Dringenberg, Dave McKean, J.H. Williams III, Marc Hempel, Michael Zulli, Yoshitaka Amano and more)—alongside tribute work from some other impressive talents!

A Handful of Dust will spotlight the characters, imagery and magic which breathed life into Neil Gaiman’s fantastic storytelling and helped drive the cult success of the series.

Coinciding with the release of Overture, Gallery Nucleus is privileged to partake in…

View original 95 more words


Quitting Smoking

It won’t be so much easier to quit smoking if I didn’t ENJOY it so much.
I love my Marlboro Ultra Light 100’s.
I’ll quit after my 20th Stuyvesant High School Reunion next weekend.
I’ve got the gum, which tastes like crap. (And I have to chee three pieces at a time.)
I’ve got Electronic Cigarettes.  (Mango flavoured.)
But it’s my last vice!!!
I gave up everything else when I found out I was pregnant, just before Memorial Day Weekend 2004.
And now I’m giving this one up…


Coming Soon…

Blogs I’m working on:
* Cats (a very biased, pro-feline piece)
* Book and Author reviews, including new teen authors I’ve been reading: Katie MacAllister, Melissa de la Cruz, etc.
* History of My Feet &How I learned about the sensuous side of foot worship
* First Love, and stalking ones First in the Internet Age
* Free Writing, and some older pieces I’ve been working on
* Writing a novel on your phone
* plus any suggestions i receive

Hope you enjoy them- if and when i get around to finishing them :)


New bf part 3, plus my son&jumping out of an elevator

I didn’t mention 2M or M2(squared) aka “Bf” was in a halfway house. Not a homeless shelter. In Oct 2010he was married to his long time fiancée & had a toddler. Well, she went to sleep and didn’t wake up. He was 30; she was 33&dead.
Yes, drugs were involved. But bf was in a place where he was clean&now they’re sending bf elsewhere. To a place where it’ll be two weeks minimum before I see him.
Typical. Bf’s clean. Bf hasn’t broken any fucking rules yet he’s being punished. And by proxy me, his mom, his son, my son…

So I’m heartbroken over this. That’s what happens when you’re infatuated, right? I called my ex.
Left a message. He, Bad Dad tho he is, lives from infatuation to infatuation. (Of course he convinces the girl it’s, “Love, True Love” a la Princess Bride.). But his latest gf (&I do mean GIRLfriend as she just turned 21&refuses to believe her sister&best friend when they confessed to having sex with BD *rolls eyes*) doesn’t go to work for a few hours…
Then, as I was going to get my son the elevator got stuck. I don’t know why they didn’t pull us up to the fourth floor but they made us jump down to the third.
A mom with her baby in a stroller refused (as I would’ve)  but I had to get my son so I jumped, bruising my upper right thigh& left leg (no, not enough for a lawsuit Lilmor Mgmt, despite your charging $25/ room for the new “elevator”& NOT installing a NEW motor.)

Now my son’s Therapist is here for a home visit.  I’m trying not to listen but it’s hard… my son is so melodramatic, like me, that he can be a bit loud lol

So. Ideally my son& I would see my grandmother tomorrow. Then Sunday would be spent relaxing or cleaning.
My Mom keeps asking for a visit but the last time we went out there she had my son order some gifts&now he can’t get them unless he goes out again.
Well, he calls this “keeping [his] gifts hostage”& he won’t see her until he gets them.
I’ve tried explaining her side to him.
I’ve tried explaining his side to her.
She’s an adult.
He’s a child.
He won’t give.
Honestly? I agree with my son. My mom could’ve mailed them. But she’s probably thinking she’ll get a visit for them, tho I’ve told her how many toys he has. Eventually he’ll just not want him & getting him to see her will be harder.
I guess it could be my fault: I’ve told him how she beat me & locked me in closets (with the cats)  as a child& how I was emancipated at 13. But I’ve also explained how I’m trying to work on a relationship with her…
According to her, she’s had stage IV breast cancer for close to four years. This beats any known record of stage 4 cancer. Not to mention that in the first year I had cervical cancer, I dropped 30lbs& lost the ability to walk. But everyone is different. Still, I think I’ll nominate her for the Guiness Book of World records for being the most functional stage 4 cancer patient whose maintained all of her hair and is able to do things actively that I can’t even do now. Go mom! Lol


Beloved wherefore art thou?

I met my Beloved (B) in 1994. Love at first sight. At least for me. I grew so attached to her daughter that when B&I lost touch about ’98 I think losing her daughter was more painful…
Fast forward about ten years. B has a son a year older than my boy&immediately I vow I will never get close to her boy as I cannot go thru the pain of losing another child.
This summer B’s mom passed suddenly leaving B&her older brother a house in south Jersey. It was going to be perfect, B assured me. Out boys could have bunkbeds& B&I would share a room. If one of us had a guy over the other could sleep in her daughters room. (Yes, the one I lost but still love as my own tho I doubt she knows it.)
B would bartenders nights and I would take care of the boys, chores. And write and get in shape.
Then it all fell apart&I don’t know why. I know Bs brother was staying …
But now my son & I are screwed. I can’t get in touch with B. And I’m pissed. She was supposed to be my friend.
I asked if we could move in in December but no answer. And I’d need a drivers license to live there but could use one anyway &she said I could use her car but…again, screwed. (We would have more options if I had my license but I can’t afford to rent a car.)
So,I ask, Beloved, wherefore art thou and WHY???

It’s 3:30am&I’ve been texting 14+ hours. I give.


Father’s Day Update


since i’m not sure if my father and i are speaking… his latest wife beat me up for Mother’s Day 2010. time passed as it is wont to do. then my dad had an operation where they put screws in his toes so i sent my dad an email titled, “heard you got screwed”. i kept to simple, somewhat cheery topics, and received a reply almost immediately. before i read my dad’s reply, i read one from my grandmother — my best friend, and the mother of my father — and her email read, “your dads email might not be what you were expecting”. so i haven’t read my dads email yet. happy dads day, dad, enjoy hanging with your puta (she really was) wife who is only 2 or 3 years older than me.

on to other topics. did i mention my son won three awards? one for Achievement (no idea what it means but it looks good), one for completing Speech (he was the only one & the little ham stood up on stage, holding his award, and slowly turning, “so that everyone would be able to get a good picture” lol), and, finally, one for Excellence in Dance (not sure where he gets the dance talent from. his dad can’t dance, and i can only dance to Latin music.)

there’s the next door neighbor who speaks only Russian. the supers wife says he’s 20 or 22, so, LEGAL for this puma (“Cougars” are women 40+ into younger guys. i’m 36 so i’m a Puma.). anyways, boy next door can say “gun”, “tattoo”, and “Moscow” in English. now i just need to figure out how to say, “Booty Call” in Russian. Maybe i can ask StudMuffin, formerly ShyBoy. after all, I am about to introduce the boy to the GREATEST WRITER EVER (Neil Gaiman, duh).

ok. my son is bugging me to let me do my toenails. yes, he wants to paint my toenails. then i’ll trim his hair. and remove my piercings *sob*. i’m having an MRI tomorrow. or two, not sure how to properly say it. one on my lower back, one on my right shoulder. i’m horrified of being in a small tube but i suppose its the closest i’ll get to feeling like a guy in a really loose… uh, never mind. i’m more upset about taking out the piercings for a day than i am about being stuck in that tube.

“I cannot wait,” says my son, who is insisting on putting glitter on my toenails. not happening.

oh, and for those of you (all three) who are interested in StudMuffin formerly ShyBoy updates, this is my last week of sexually harassing him due to N getting out of school next week. unless, of course, he comes over to watch something and i can leave my son downstairs with our neighbor and goddamn it, even if he isn’t into fluffy chicks i’ve got AMAZING breasts and full, luscious lips which are oh-so-kissable. he says he’s been single for a while so that would mean lots of jerking off and wtf i’m offering something BETTER than masturbation *sigh* i give up. how do you say that in russian?

damn. the neighbours went offline. how am i supposed to post this?

and my son is doing my nails. i’ve agreed to the glitter on my fingernails. since i’ll be doing dishes later — assuming i’m not too depressed from the lack of piercings — some of the glitter’ll prob wash off.

oh & i just found out what “imo” stands for. thank you, mr axl rose.


ok. nails done (check).

cut the boys hair (check).

almost cut the boys ear off because he moved after i told him NOT to move 327 times (check).

removed piercings, some of which have been in 17 years (i got the tragus — that little piece of cartilage that sticks out from the ear, closest to the face — for my 19th birthday. technically i got my first ear lobe piercing at…um…8, i think, but i haven’t had the ring in it for that long. i’m only counting piercings which haven’t been removed since i got them.).

still waiting on the disability check (the big one, not the one which will pay 74.3% of my rent each month. welfare has dropped from paying 87.42% of my rent to paying 23.88% of my rent. yes, welfare plus disability equals only 98.18% of my rent. i’m still getting $260 cash a month from welfare, though. take away $20 for the rent, $50 for my phone, we are down to $190 a month. then there is transportation — minimum, $20/week, $80/month — laundry, non-food items, etc and, oh, yeah, ConnEd, electricity… yup, i’m screwed. when school starts, i can tutor, even dog walk. but during the heat of the summer i cannot go out. loooooong story. i’m allergic to the sun. i used to pass out / faint, but now that i’m fluffy — not fat — i just feel sick, get nauseated…told you, long story.). anyway, i was planning on buying some barbells for my horizontal nipple piercings. and then getting vertical piercings in the nips. as long as i have enough after fixing-up tattoos i have and getting new ones. yay!


just put the high E string on my guitar. tried to show my son how to do it but i made the mistake of playing “Hollywood Undead” by Black Dahlia Murders at the same time and i admit we were both paying more attention to the song than to the guitar, which i believe is now tuned although being tone-deaf, who the fuck knows? i could call my ex, or maybe StudMuffin (formerly Shy Boy), but the former would require lots of cigarettes& calming techniques and the latter would require my neighbour to be home (do 20year olds “dry fuck”? or is that just teens? is he going to expect to fuck me the first time we fool around? i haven’t really been single since i was 16. but i do know that, before one has sex, the boy WILL kiss the girl, and will make out, because he knows this is the path to get in her pants. once sex happens, the kissing is still there, it just happens for, oh, two seconds, and then he’s reaching for the bra or trying to undo the pants. which is why i’m into ShyBoy aka StudMuffin — since he doesn’t read this, he doesn’t know i’m willing to put out& will therefore put some effort into the kissing. and i am a girl who NEEDS TO BE KISSED. seriously. i feel ill when i haven’t  been kissed in a while.)

ok. it’s 1:13pm & i need cigarettes. will try to call my neighbor. if shes home & willing to watch the boy (my son), i will call StudBoy (aka ShyBoy, aka StudMuffin) & tell him to get his ass over here. he’s 20 for fuck’s sake & if he says he’s been single for a year well, read the jerking-off bit above. shit, i’ll do it for him. but i need to be kissed or i will shrivel up and die. not really, but… please let my neighbor be home & please let StudBoy be getting up from his fun night last night & we all know what boys wake up with & really, i’m, not THAT fluffy!!!

i’ll let you know later. we’ve got three choices. no piercings. either i’m getting myself off (pathetic), my Booty Call is (good. first time since we dated. i think. i’m assuming he got me off while we dated) or StudShyBoy (yay! yes! i’m pathetic! i’m corrupting the young!!!!).






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