Been Reading, Been Writing

Ok. I freely admit that I have avoided the various David Bowie tributes like the plague. How can they pay tribute to a man who, in my mind, is still alive? It’s offensive!

Then we have the Trump inauguration. Which means his run fir POTUS wasn’t some huge, unfunny joke.

And then my Nikita dies. The kitten that I got to keep me company when a cruel judge gave my son’s abisive dad 2 weeks in July and 2 weeks in August — which was used the first year to “fatten” our son up and given up the 2nd year. Either way, as I cried myself to sleep, worrying abput the various abuses my son’s sad and girlfriend at the time were doing, it was my autumn colored Nikita (Russian female of Nicholas, my son’s name) who dried my tears on her fur and lulled me to sleep with her purring.

Ema was there, too, my tuxedo girl, 2 years older but dyong of thyroid cancer 15 says after Nikita.

And that’s how I spent my first 2 months of the year: inauguration; crying and carrying my dead cat down tbe hallway to the trash conpactor because I had nowhere to bury her; and repeating the event 15 days later with Ema.

It’s not gotten any easier to write / type fast on a phone. And I’m trying to get out my autobiography: the drugs, the Pro Dom, the years I spent trying to get my dad to love me.

We had two cats die within sixteen days of one another. Nikita in January, Ema in February. 

Our therapist went on permanent maternity leave and suddenly the replacement therapist couldn’t fit us in her schedule. So why did she say that she could see us? I was going Thursday morning and my son Friday after school. First new therapist switched my son to Wednesday, his only early day off but with getting up at 6am, school, therapy, getting home at 7pm, homework just didn’t fit — which I’d said would happen. My Thursday mornings became Monday mornings, but Monday is just a bad day because I know that my weekends with my son are limited and a strong depression hits me Monday. Was that the last weekend before my son decides I’m not cool, or that his friends are cooler?

So we stopped going.

I’ve been reading books about drugs (“Fall to Pieces”, by Mary Forsberg Weiland; “Not Dead & Not for Sale”, by Scott Weiland) and the time that I was using and… I know that I would never use while my son is living at home; honestly, I probably never will have my goddess heroin in me again — but if I had to state that, it would be harder to shut that voice off. That, “Once is ok” voice. So I tell myself that I’ll be able to in a decade, in 8 years…

I’d love to find a visual artist who could help me with my tarot deck. I’m not sure why it’s so hard. Maybe because I can’t offer money?

Then there’s the story I thought my ex had completely deleted: I had floor plans; lists of characters including date of birth; date of death (& reason); relationship to other characters; etc. I had an outline, etc. Now I’ve got a few notes, but maybe it’ll be enough to write The Great American Novel my dad always referred to (still trying to please my dad. Pathetic.).

Yesterday, Monday, 27 March, as my birthday. My grandma guilt tripped me so I guilt tripped​ my son into seeing my dad. (Christianity anditta Catholicism come from Judaism, so we have been using guilt thousands of years before the Catholics.). Unfortunately​, I had a cold and missed the Birthday celebration which went on without me. Odd.

Maybe next year I’ll be included in my birthday celebration 

Posted in Baby Daddy, Drugs, fibromyalgia, girls, Knowledge, Life, My Son, parenting

Open Letter of WHY To My Ex-Beloved

I remember when I came up with that nickname, “Beloved”. It was from a book by Robin Hobb. The Fool, who had been in many of her books, sometimes as a male, sometimes female, had been captured and was being slowly tortured in a frozen wasteland. He had no hope if being saved. As his skin was being slowly stripped away from his back, he was delerious with pain, and he began mumbling, “Beloved, My Beloved, ” or something like that. And even tho we’d just found each other after a decade, I knew that if I was in the same situation, I’d be calling out your name. Beloved. My Beloved. Because it has always been you.
Continue reading “Open Letter of WHY To My Ex-Beloved”

Posted in Drugs, Knowledge, Life, review

“Homeless” — Games & Apps

When I was homeless, Smart Phones weren’t around. While looking for a game, I came across a game titled, “Homeless“. I was amazed at how or why anyone would want to play at being homeless, but here are a few.
[Note: game links are to Google Play Store. Game description from Play Store description.]

* Homeless: a simulation of a man on the street.
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=home.game2

* My Pocket Hobo: now you can have your very own hobo! Just don’t let him die.
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=air.com.octahedron.pockethobo

* The Homeless: experience life homeless. Will you succeeded honestly or as a thief?
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=ru.agoryachev.bomjara

* Santa is Ho-Ho-Homeless: ages 13+. St. Nick has fallen on hard times. There’s even a soundboard for his “ranting”.
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.horoscopenights.santahomeless

For real help for homeless people, I found quite a few apps. Which made me wonder how a homeless person would or could have a Smart Phone to download these helpful apps. I know they can use computers at the library — I’ve seen that. But downloading an app?
These focus mainly on the NYC area, as that’s where I live. Type, ” homeless” into your Store search engine to find one for your area.

* Homeless Helper NYC: helping the homeless locate shelter, food banks, etc.
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=io.rasmi.homelessnyc

* Find Homeless Shelter: helps locate homeless shelters.
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.rathipriya.findhomeshelter

* Homeless Shelter For Veterans: a group that make up a large part of the homeless community, and really deserve better for their service for our country. This app offers link to Veterans Affairs, Benefits, and other help specific to those who put themselves between us and the bad guys only to return home to find very few care.
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.a5688439450439987d2fe55a.a65055972a

And, finally, for those homeless animals:

* Homeless Pet Clubs: helping nonprofits adopt more pets.
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.app_homelesspet.layout

Posted in boys, Dominatrix, Drugs, fibromyalgia, girls, Life, parenting, Poetry, Re-Post, writing

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.
Lol.
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

Posted in boys, Drugs, fibromyalgia, girls, Life

And it drags on… lol

So MM thinks we should be just friends because he’s doing it for me. He says he’s worried about my feelings and that I may harbor some hope of something in future.
Lmfao
Please.
He’s good but not that good! Hell with a girl I can get off in two seconds bit with guys… well OK it is rare to find a guy who gets me off. Almost every time. And makes up for the times he doesn’t.
Ok. So he is good. But I’ve told him I’d never be his gf again. I’ve had guys end it& they always come back &I always say no. It’s a matter of pride. Or ego. And who’d want to date a guy dumb enough to break up with me in the first place? Lol
So he’s going to call later (earlier he was helping me with my detoxing)…
Then there’s this girl I was really into last year but she was still into her ex. Turns out she still is. Hopefully I’ll get a good friend out of her but Dang it she’s a Jew&crazy like me but still the ex is … probably a really great person.
*sigh*
So I’m detoxing and bedridden according to my pain Dr.
Fun…
And yet the only sexual partner I’d like is using his weekend pass to see his mom tomorrow 😦 oh&thinks sex isn’t a good idea. Crazy boy. (Maybe that should be his code name?)

Posted in Baby Daddy, Drugs, Life

ACS SUCKS BIG FAT HAIRY UNWASHED BALLS

We got a new acs (childrens services) case about a month ago. Against BD (Bad Dad), my son’s dad, of course, as usual, etc. I get drug tested asap. Me, who gets tested WEEKLY anyway at my methadone program. My methadone program which, by the way, would call childrens services IF I turned in a dirty urine BEFORE they would even tell me. But BD & the girl he’s living with who talked to her co-workers about how much she LOVES crystal meth and crack? But BD, who lost at least 30 pounds in the first month of living with her, who has become even more paranoid (if possible) and developed dark circles under his eyes? He JUST got his test. That idiot of a worker — I really liked her in the beginning but she is a fucking moron — gave him THREE WEEKS to get clean & claims “it was a surprise”. BULL FUCKING SHIT!!!!! He knew from the second we had a new case that he and florida white trash were getting tested. They had three fucking weeks to get clean. There was no fucking surprise involved. BD KNEW that I was going to bitch whine moan beg etc until they were tested. I’ll bet they had a huge fucking meth / crack party after getting tested. (my angel of a son is here. More later after BD picks him up)

Posted in Dominatrix, Drugs, Life

25 Things (as copied from Facebook; i did this about a year ago)

here’s my list:

1. i really and truly believe my kid is way better than any other kid in the world. and not just because i’m his mom. he really is.

2. i’ve been an ovo-lacto vegatarian for twenty years but about ten years ago i accidentally bought a frozen pizza with sausage and pepperoni. and i ate it.

3. i was a big fan of 80’s “hair” bands: poison, cinderella… speaking of embarrassing bands, i was a huge new kids on the block fan when i was a freshman in high school

4. the duck billed platypus is my favorite animal (thought i’d say “cat”, didn’t you?). but if i could be any animal (other than human) it would be a cat

5. i won’t sleep with or date famous people. and on that note why is leo dicaprio still famous? he was such a brat at 19.

6. my paternal grandmother is and always has been my best friend

7. i took the 1,000 question purity test my senior year of high school and was 33% pure

8. i was on captain kangaroo when i was a kid. we were told to sit at a table while he read us a book, but he had me sit on his lap.

9. when i was 19 i had some connections send photos to Playboy to be a centerfold. they said my face looked too young for my body but they’d be happy to use me in a lingerie special. i said no. they contacted me after i was 21 re. centerfold but the internet was just starting and i was making more than $50,000 keeping my clothes on

10. i seriously considered a sex-change operation. for years.

11. the last name i use, “Stevens” is a mix of my dad’s name growing up (stephen) and the first boy i, uh, was “in love” with (steven). my son’s middle name is also steven.

12. i’ve always thought it’s more natural for women to be with women and men with men.

13. i got mono from the boy i lost my virginity to but i’ve never (knock wood) had an std. unless you count yeast infections ;)(thank you creepy romero)

14. my son, my dad, my father’s mother, and i all have exactly the same eyes. my son, my dad, my dad’s dad, and i all have a flat spot on the back of our heads (i thought i’d been dropped as a baby!) and a, uh, well it’s not an extra vertebra, not quite a short tail but… hey. according to scientists and other experts (who probably have a tail themselves) it’s a sign of a more highly evolved human. you know, a tail for balance? but that doesn’t explain why i’m such a klutz.

15. i read A LOT of graphic novels but as a kid i wasn’t really into comics

16. i treat my birthday like a national holiday. my ideal birthday meal would be assorted wheat gluten at HOV followed by Veniero’s.

17. i’ve never checked baggage — and i’ve gone away for two months at a time (i am awesome at packing. it’s a shame i can’t get paid to pack for other people.)

18. if i could do anything it would be writing at home so i could take care of my many children (that i haven’t had yet) and my partner (male or female, as long as they take good care of the kids. and me!)

19. i still don’t think of myself as an adult

20. after i had cervical cancer (plus a few other stressors) i had a slight breakdown and thought if i got fat guys would leve me alone. yes, i got fat on purpose and have to “work” to keep the weight on. and, yes, i know that means i’m crazy. and guys like fat chicks. then again, so do i.

21. despite the statistics, i believe it is possible to be in an exclusive relationship with just one other person. i believe in lasting love. (yes i know it takes work. people give up too quickly. or never even try. ahem. raised eyebrow.)

22. i cannot lie. i can skirt around the truth but if asked a direct question…

23. i really enjoyed being a professional dominatrix but then it became too trendy and girls started taking off their clothes and giving extras which ruined it for those of us who had real talent. my specialty was ropes — when i was a child i would tie up furniture and in h.s. i had ropes permanently under/on my bed.

24. i hate when something i’m into becomes cool/popular/trendy. like i was doing body piercing and then all of a sudden everyone and (literally) their mother wanted a navel piercing. i could do it upside down backwards blindfolded…

25. i’ve never done crack and i’ve never shot up.