Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (or stuff I wish I could do)


For you poor misguided souls in my audience who have not had the pleasure of witnessing this movie, then you should…go and see it I mean.  It’s directed by Edgar Wright, dear friend of Simon Pegg of “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz” fame, so technically, we cannot go wrong here.

Scott Pilgrim is pure OMG WHY CAN’T WE DO THAT IN REAL LIFE?-goodness.  Scott is played by Michael Cera, you may remember him as the ever moping teenage dad in “Juno”.  Don’t get your hopes up.  He is still perpetualing moaning about life as a guy perching on the edge of adulthood and too scared to take the plunge.  But in a good way.  Well, sort of.  It looks iffy at the beginning.  He’s 23, out of high school, out of employment, and in a rock band.

Scott Pilgrim NEVER gets it right.  EVER.  At the onset of the movie he is moaning about his lost relationship with a girl who we find out is the lead singer of some band that went mega-crazy-big and is now dating a girl who is still in high school.  He further degrades himself by actually picking her up at high school one day.  So, poor Scott is wandering through life, lost and with the LOSER sticker just hovering over his head awaiting fixation to his ass.

Until he meets HER.  Her is Ramona Flowers.  She is the lady of perpetually changing hair color.  She is the girl that you are afraid to touch because she is so potentially cool, that you can just never hope to compete.  And I don’t mean in a “I’m the head cheerleader and I am untouchable” kinna cool.  I mean truly cool.  The girl that makes you realise later in life that if you don’t at least know her, you cannot ever claim that that you had any reason to live whatsoever.  She is the cool cousin who made your first mix tape and showed you how to sneek alcohol and cigarettes at family gatherings. 

Scott dreams about Ramona and then ends up meeting her at a party.  Let me tell you that he is positively the most not rememberable guy she meets.  However, somehow they end up with their worlds colliding and Scott finds out that in order to have Ramona, he must defeat her seven evil exes.  Now Scott does spend a huge amount of time whining about doing this to her evil ex-boyfriends, but is always quickly shot down with evil exes.  Not much brain scientist foreshadowing there.

The exes range in amounts of sheer unbelievable stupidity, however, this somehow adds to the wonderfulness of it all.  When he defeats evil exes they explode into coins (think Mario Brothers games) and the coins land in the shapes of the people.  Tell me that’s not hilarious!  Oh, he’s also allowed to do fantastically super cool comic book hero moves (think the worst of Batman the series with the Ka-pows, etc., spelled out for you) combined with the greatness of video games with power ups and extra lives.  Go ahead and try and tell me that you don’t wish that all of these things would happen to you.  I will laugh.

I won’t give away the ending because frankly it’s NOT rocket science and you can figure it out.  But if you want a fun little date movie that is too funny for words or just a great movie to take your kids to, this is THE ONE.

The under current of this, is of course, that although my husband is a great guy to see movies with SOMETIMES, I really missed my son in all of this.  We loved to go and see comic book epic movies and it just really cemented for me how much of a hole is inside of me where he used to be.  This so totally would have been a Saturday afternoon date for us.  Sigh.

Of course, on the Asperger’s side of things, just a warning….Scott Pilgrim is exactly how we think the world should really be.  I should get super duper coin bonuses when I knock you down, and I SO should be able to get a power up occasionally.  My OCD girlfriend, of course, has had great fun with her husband deciding what evil powers each of her exes would have, how they could be defeated, and even designing the costumes for them.  Well, she is nothing if not completely over the top, all of the time!  I’ve entertained this line of thought myself.  What powers would the truly evil people in my life have and how could I defeat them?  I skipped the whole costume thing, it seemed irrelevant.

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Amazing Days in the Face of Adversity


Okay, I know that I haven’t posted alot about the appeal on here.  But yesterday, it was finally finished.  Yesterday, it was put into the mail.  In the face of everything yesterday, I thought it blog-worthy.

I’ve spent several fairly sleepless nights over the last month getting this thing done.  I was up until 3.30 the other morning putting final touches on it and making sure that all the info was there.  Miracle! Wonderful Best Buy guy found some key paperwork that had accidentally ended up in the trash so that it could be included.  So, I didn’t have to make an extraneous run to Muncie yesterday in the middle of trying to get everything accomplished and that just gave me a little extra wiggle room!

So, finished everything, got it printed and ready to copy.  Took it to Staples.  Wonderful girl at Staples figured out what I needed, di it exactly the way the lawyers do it and then gave me the legal discount!  Saved me $10.  Then off to the post office where I got one box and asked the clerk about putting some packing material in it, and she pointed me toward the only pack of 1/2 price bubble wrap left.  I got it and then she remembered that someone had bought a box that turned out too small and they were just going to throw it out, but here I come needing a box exactly that size with only a little packing stuff needed…..so, she packed it all up and we got an address sticker for it. 

From behind me, I hear something about “Katey that I used to work with at Carey”, I turn around to see an ex coworker of mine that I haven’t seen for awhile.  I tell her what’s in my box and she decides it needs a little prayer.  Then when I’m leaving, I see that the postal clerks are having a little prayer over it.  Then I see my father in law walk in the opposite door, so I beat a hasty retreat out.  I get home and wonder about it all.

I just feel as if things were all lined up for me to do exactly what needed to be done yesterday to get it looking the way it should have, to have everything I needed into it, and then to get it all mailed off.  It was truly a day of endless guardian angels making sure that it got off!

Now, those who know me, know that I am not a big religion band wagoner.  But I just can’t help but think how many things got lined up for me.  The girl at Staples telling me how things were supposed to look and then the mail clerk and then my friend.  Just seemed like nothing could go wrong.  I am hoping that it bodes well.  Now is the hard part.  I have to wait. 

I’m nervous and I’m not a good waiter at all.  However, I am thinking that this is definitely going to be a good thing.  At the very least, I hope that it puts me back on track with my son.  Or at least puts us in a place where we can try to rebuild all of the damage that’s been done to our relationship.  Sometimes I think that it’s an impossible task.  Other days I try to be hopeful.  So….I am trying to think hopefully today.  We’ll see what happens.  Think positive everyone. Think prayers or karma or whatever you have because I will take it all right now!

And by the way, if you happen to need to know how an appeal is written, I’m kinna an expert, now!

Drama Events


You know, I think alot about the things that happen in life and how they relate to other things in life.  This leads me to start thinking about how I react in the face of these things and then to how other people react to similar things. 

I notice that alot of people seem somehow intrinsically unhappy unless they have some sort of drama in their lives.  I, on the other hand, have been systematically trying to stop having drama in my life because the last 3 years of my life have been fraught with it, and frankly, I’m little exhausted by all of it. I know, that’s crazy, right?

So, when I get up early to go to some rummages and then head to Fort Wayne to go to an auction and then to Barnes and Noble for my weekly writer’s club, I don’t expect to have to answer 5000 questions and account for every second of my time.  That’s just nuts.  The Best Buy guy, for whatever reason, and I am clueless as to what that might be, has decided that I’m up to something that I shouldn’t be.  I mean, really.  I’ve been here for 10 years.  It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon.  I don’t understand what causes these little trip ups in his faith.  He gets these little jealous spurts and they make me nuts.  I don’t really get these things.  I’ve been around long enough to know that men are going to do what they do and nothing that I do is going to make a bit of difference or non difference in the whole mess.  So I sit here in the bookstore, pondering all of these connections in life that make us over react and under react and prolly react in general. 

So, although this was originally about the Best Buy guy’s little jealous spurt, it’s turned itself around to be about the relationships in my life and how they behave and how I interact with them.  So, now I’ve checked the “Seeing the World through Asperger’s” box.  The most ironic part of the whole thing is that I’ve never pretending that the relationships in my life are anything short of difficult or complicated.  Because that’s exactly what they are.  Difficult and often times complicated. 

There are so many things about being in a committed relationship with another person that does not exactly lend itself to simple or uncomplicated or easy.  There is so much ego stroking and other niceities which just do not lend themselves very well to the Asperger’s personality.  We’re just not really that interested in stroking anyone’s ego but our own.  And truthfully, if our ego is going to be stroked, we’d much rather do it ourselves, thank you.  There are times that the Best Buy guy definitely more than likely deserves saint status.  But there are times when he misses the entire point.  Now, I’m sure that this point is missed because it has nothing to do with his private parts, but it’s not an excuse. 

I guess that my inability to understand and interpret his intentions gets taken advantage of.  It certainly gets me in trouble.  Although, I hear from a friend of mine, who is a psychologist that many women complain that husbands/boyfriends/significant others for some reason think that we as the other half of the relationship should just be able to read their minds and know what they were thinking about.  I’m good, just not that good.  He’s simple, just not that simple.  It’s a quandary.  Relationships are very give and take.  It’s difficult, as I learned from another friend, to live with someone who is a sort of ultimate scorekeeper.  I guess the part that annoys me is that I never seem to have enough points.  I don’t know what I’m collecting points for, either.  And that’s sort of annoying.  It’s not like in “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World” where I can pluck a level up out of the sky.  It would be so wonderful if things really were like this!  It’s so concrete and it makes so much more sense than the reality of it all.

I continue to strive to understand these little dramas when they happen in my life.  I don’t pretend that I’m any closer than I have ever been.  I’m by nature a fairly loyal soul and since I abhor change so much, it makes little sense that I would disrupt the status quo by making things change forcefully via a disloyal act.  It just wouldn’t happen.  So, I continue to struggle with the idea that he somehow thinks that I am such a hugely desireable creature that I might consider being disloyal under any circumstances.  It is truly ridiculous.  I feel like rejecting this faulty sense of reality and replacing it with my own reality which is a little closer to the true representation of what is going on. 

It’s hard for me to imagine that he thinks I’m that great.  That’s prolly my natural cynicism, however.  Well, I’m not going to change it or figure it out anytime soon.  I’ve been doing this for 40 years and my relationships have not gotten any easier to fathom, so I will be off to write this appeal.  Insert deep breath here and maybe even a tortured sigh.

Mental Health Days


I went to bed upset because I felt off all day yesterday.  I hate that feeling.  I don’t know if neurotypical people ever have it, but I have it alot.  It’s a feeling that something is wrong without any way of righting it.  Without being able to know what it is that feels wrong, it becomes difficult to fix it.  I don’t think that I would be able to anyway.  But, I hold out hope that I can figure it out and fix it.

I knew that when I woke up this morning that it would be one of those days that I couldn’t possibly figure out what to even wear.  That’s usually when I know it will be a bad day.  It was just going to go completely downhill from there I suspected.  It’s hard to describe to people.  I always have called it “my wah being out of whack”.  It’s some feeling in my soul that makes me feel as if the world is not right inside of me.  It’s more than that, though.  It’s a feeling that no matter what I do, it will not be right ever.  I hate that feeling.  It’s a feeling of impending somethingness that seems inevitable and unstoppable.

Enough of the doom and gloom.  It’s been swimming about in my head that employers don’t give mental health days and in a job such as mine when you are dealing with people all day and their problems, mental health days are essential.  They are even more important to people on the autism spectrum because of our inability to process stress appropriately.

When our whole lives feel like stress and we are so easily oversensitized by it, it makes for difficult processing life in general.  I am absolutely so knackered by all of the stuff that’s happened in the lasst 3 years and now I feel as if it needs to give.  I wish that when stressful things are occurring that we could just put them in a box and deal with the consequences of them rather than dealing with the stress.  I’m not good at stress at all.  It’s annoying.

When I am feeling so stressed, I feel completely disabled.  It’s an awful feeling to have.  I don’t like it at all.  I just feel like curling up into a ball and crying for a few days.  I know that wouldn’t help any and wouldn’t actually make it feel any better.  But it seems as if it should.  I want to scream, but I’m sure that wouldn’t make it feel any better either.  I feel as if all my nerves are on top of my skin and that I might cry if I’m looked at wrong.  That is an uncomfortable feeling as well.

So, I am a huge advocate of mental health days.  Everyone should have them.  Everyone should be allowed to take them.  It seems as if it is absolutely essential. 

Now, what triggered the blog besides mental health days that are desperately needed?  Torchwood of all things.  I’ve been writing all day working on this court silliness. And watching Torchwood episodes.  The one that stoked this awfulness inside my soul today is about a boy that disappears after texting with his mom.  It reminded me of the way that Wee Geek and I were.  I am stunned by the last 3 years.  Numbed by it some days and killed by it others.  It’s frightening.  I go over and over everything in my brain (wait a minute, I’m sure going through all this bloody paperwork hasn’t helped any either) and trying to make it all make sense.  Of course, it doesn’t matter how many times I go through it and try to make it make sense, it’s not going to.  I guess it’s because the whole mess left such a gigantic gap inside of me.  My whole life was completely thrown akilter because of it.  It’s a hole that is exactly Wee Geek sized.  If our relationship hadn’t been what it was, it wouldn’t matter so much.  It feels so awful now because we were so close. 

When I look back at my life and I think about everything that I’ve been through in 41 years.  When I look at it and try to figure out what I’ve got to show for it, it always comes back to him.  Something in my life righted when he came along and I suddenly knew thatq I was not the only one like me in the universe.  There was suddenly this other little person who I could connect with and could make a relationship with.  That was the point.  I never had good relationships because it was just too damned hard.  It explains so much about my life.  Why that piece was so elusive up until Wee Geek was born.  I could never make that hardwired connection to another person. 

I did better with making those connections after Wee Geek.  I still wasn’t great at it, but I felt motivated to try.  I had let Scott lock me up in a little gilded cage and he had made me believe that I was incompetent in building relationships with others.  He made me think that he was the only one I could build a relationship with.  It was dark and twisted and awful.  Suddenly, though, there was this little boy who I could look down at and bond with.  I was amazed.  I thought that part of me was broken or missing.  What I found was that there was nothing about me that was broken or missing.  It just didn’t work very well. 

So, as I go through all of this garbage and all of these feelings that are practically insanity inducing, I think about all of these things. I think about what Scott created.  I think about that great kid that I brought into this world totally alone and raised that way.  I think about the huge gap in both of our lives.  Mine is bigger I think, but I wasn’t encouraged to stuff it full of garbage either.  I had to find healthy things to fill it with.  I had to try and make the pieces that were left fit together with the biggest piece missing.  He had to piece it back together with lies and half realities.  I don’t know which one is worse, but they are both pretty bad.  At least I could make fairly informed decisions about what was happening.  He couldn’t even begin.  The information that he has to work from is bad to start with.

Okay, I’ve cried, I’ve been to the bathroom 17 times and I’ve watched 4 episodes of Torchwood accompanied by healthy (or maybe not so much so) doses of allergy meds and migraine pills.  It’s not going to make the day any better.  It’s not going to make coping with the crap for this case any better.  A pint of Cherry Garcia might, though.

Did the ADA hurt people with disabilities or help?


http://www.newsweek.com/2010/08/05/did-the-americans-with-disabilities-act-hurt-some-people-with-disabilities.html

I have to preface this blog with an important fact.  The ADA was enacted on my birthday, so I feel a kind of kinship with it.  A strange one, I’m sure, but it makes me feel as if I’m intertwined with it in some way that might be important at some point.

I share complaints of people over-reading the ADA.  I mean Braille on drive-thru menus, really?  Who’s bright idea was that?  People don’t use any common sense in these things, do they?  I see all the time that places have complied with the ADA, but didn’t think it out.  Perfect example…we went to MCL (commonly referred to as the Medicare Lounge) and the bathroom had a handicapped stall.  This is funny…it wasn’t wide enough for a wheelchair, as the poor lady in the wheelchair that I helped out of her chair and into the stall found out.  Then there was the fact that the door was located down a 5 foot corridor with a very short and sharp 90 degree angle .  Impossible at best to navigate a wheelchair down and through.  You had to hit it at exactly the right angle. So, what good did it do to have that when it was so poorly carried out?

Think about those wonderful blue buttons that everyone abuses because they are too lazy to open a door.  Do people realise that those things only have so many pushes in them?  Nope, they just continue to be lazy.  Now, that I live and work in the disabilities community, I understand this and I know what a huge freaking deal it is when that one little convenience doesn’t work appropriately.

The article quotes that 60% of people with disabilities are currently unemployed.  It  attributes this to the employers not wanting to open themselves up to lawsuits and having to accommodate people with disabilities.  Believe me, after having been pretty intensively involved with employment of people with disabilities in the last few years, I understand the reluctance of employers to work with this very special population.  Most employers will tell you that their experience has been very good, however.  These people, myself included, appreciate the chance to work and take it very seriously.  There is a lot to be said for giving positively to your community.  However, in recent times with the economy the way that it is, I think that employers forget the positive outcomes that they get from working with people with disabilities.  It stops being about impact and becomes about money.   They forget that having people perform tasks with attention and focus far outweighs how many jobs that they can do with half ass focus and little attention to detail.  The big picture impact is that these people are fulfilled with their jobs and not only do they have the opportunity to do something that feels worthwhile and gives them satisfaction, but it also performs a more clandestine task.  It allows “normal” people to see that people with disabilities are worthwhile and functional members of a community.  We have made great strides in society as a whole with this task.  It has not so suddenly become okay for people not considered normal to be part of their communities.  I have a coworker who has a brother that is my age with Downs.  His parents were told to institutionalize him.  He participates with a baseball team in the summer and works in my employer’s sheltered workshop.  Less than 20 years ago people with Autism Spectrum Disorders were still being institutionalized.  They certainly weren’t being accepted and asked to give public speeches.

I like how Andy Imparato talked about the self-esteem of kids with disabilities.  This is largely in part to no longer being looked at as a drain on society.  I like to think that it’s also due in part to people like me, who tell them that it’s okay to be different.  The biggest thing that high school students with higher functioning forms of autism face is the depression from being and thinking so differently from their peers.  It’s no fun to look around and feel isolated and as if you don’t fit in, and worse yet, to feel as if nothing that you do will help you to fit in.  In fact, they often feel as if being “normal” is the goal, rather than being happy.

I’m going to briefly follow in Penelope Trunk’s footsteps and say that there is huge amounts of emphasis placed on being happy as per specific priorities.  We get so caught up in what “their” (I have no qualifier for who falls into the they category, but we all know who they are) idea of happiness is for us and forget that it’s not the things that make us happy but rather the thing, being ourselves.  I will share with you a lesson that it took me 41 years to learn.  If I am not happy with myself, it makes no difference how many others are happy with me.  I will still be miserable.  When I am happy with me, my miserable factor lowers significantly.

The other thing that Andy Imparato said that impressed me is that the ADA helped kids to set their expectations high.  This goes hand in hand with having pride in ourselves.  I can’t have that pride if I constantly feel as if I am not being challenged in the expectations that I have for myself.  High expectations helps me to challenge myself and be somewhat consistently successful.

He also talks about the definition of disability, at least according to social security.  Am I without disability because I have the ability to participate in substantial gainful activity most of the time?  No, but there are times when I am, by virtue of my disability, significantly disabled.  Should I only qualify part of the time?  I agree that I should never be forced to say that I cannot ever work and be successful.  I prefer to note that I have a significant barrier to being employed, but with help, I have become successful.  I feel as if my current job has really helped me to feel successful in a job.  Of course, it’s because they are patient with me and have helped me identify ways to work better with others as well as learning to work with me.  Developing this plan to make me a more successful employee, they have helped me to create a successful employee.   Kind of defies imagination, huh?

In summary, it all comes down to committment.  I have to be committed as an employee to be the best employee I can be.  The company that I work for also has to be committed to helping me to be the best employee I can be.  They have offered me challenges to expand my job duties.  Some, admittedly, have been more successful than others.  There have been times that my boss has had much more confidence in me than I have.  There have also been times when he’s had confidence in my abilities than my actual abilities.  There are rules for everyone to be successful in the workplace, it just takes a few more for people with disabilities and a lot more committment to those rules. 

The other part of this success is having  the appropriate tools to make me successful.  Having commitment on everyone’s side is a great help, but it takes technology to keep me on track.  My netbook, my computer, my BlackBerry all work to make me more affective.  Oh, and post it notes.  But that’s entirely different blog…..

Thoughts from Midwest Writer’s Workshop 2010


I have a lot of thoughts swimming through my brain about this conference. It was actually reinforced by reading a throughly boring text (I mean a book, not a phone message) on how to write legal briefs all day Sunday and last night.
It seems a little odd that anything would be reinforced by this particular little piece of non-literature. But it was. It actually reinforced what they had been saying over and over again at the conference. I found the author quoting Marcus Sakey quoting someone else. That was kind of cool, actually.
Overall, the conference made me want to make rash decisions. And according to my mother-in-law’s chart of my transits (whatever they are, it’s some astrology thing), this is my year for that exactly. It’s my year to make those bold sweeping decisions that are going to affect my life in some huge sweeping way with no looking back with regret. And that, of course, is the key. No looking back in remorse or regret or any other feeling of needing to change it to be positive. The positivity has to come out of the experience be it good or bad.
So, as I’m facing these things that have to be done in the next few weeks, I’m relishing that when this is said and done, I will finally have time to…..gulp and drumroll….write. It seems like a pipedream, right now, of course, but I have faith.
I brought back an urgency to get this done. To start spitting out all of the words that I have pent up in my little brain for all 41 of these years that I’ve spent on the planet. It feels as if I’ve merely been coping for all of these years.
It was interesting to meet other writers, would-be writers, and writers who do it for a living. It was interesting to talk to everyone and process all of the different points of view. It was interesting to be liked because I have this really cool zombie novel brewing and there’s another guy out there writing one, too. It did make me realise that I do have a valid point of view, which is something I’ve been worried about. I was starting to feel as if I was just going through all the motions of having some vantage point that just wasn’t in any remote sense of the word….valid. It was a little piece of vindication.
So, as I sit here at 8 am, staring at my desk, lamenting the fact that I am staring at this desk, I know that I have a bigger purpose that I need to get moving toward.
Sometimes, in my everyday life, I forget what it’s all really about. I mean, I know that this part of things is about doing this job and making these visits and teaching these little kids, but is that what I will remember myself for? I’ve spent most of my life doing jobs that I just never felt as if they were what I was going to do for the rest of my life. Although I know that my time here at Carey has been where I needed to be at this moment of time, even after 4 years, I have doubts that it will be forever. I have forever felt pulled toward fulfilling this little piece of my destiny. But now, I am thinking that some other bigger piece is out there. And the words are all part of it.
So, real world….look at, I figured some little part of the puzzle out and I might be bragging about it for a little while!

Vindication with the IRS (reprint from a page)


Finally Something Goes My Way!

Well, I was a little vindicated today.  I got a letter from the IRS.  Now, I’m not brainless, I opened it with great amounts of trepidation and more than a little fear.

For those of you who know about my problems with the legal system and my son in the last three years, you will feel my victory as well. For those of you who don’t know, a brief synopsis: when my son was 15, I was in a prolonged support battle with his dad in which his dad had managed to continually distract the judge with visitation issues.  In the midst of all of this, my son was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome (a kind of high functioning autism).  In May of 2007, my ex managed to get emergency custody of my son.  This was based on the fact that I had him diagnosed with autism and also because my son had not been doing well in school.  Now, anyone who would like to check can see clearly in the Indiana bylaws that bad grades is not a reason to change custody.  During this change, it was not taken into consideration that my son was on medications that should not go without being taken (it took a week to get meds to him).  My ex was also allowed to go to school and take my son without any intervention from anyone.  I won’t even repeat the scene at the school in which I tore 42 miles in 15 minutes between the courthouse and the school and I walked in to hear my son screaming for me and crying.  I was in panic and my son was in meltdown.  I have been subject to many injustices during the last 3 years, the least of which has had the end result of having no communication of a steady kind with my son for almost 2 years.  The most of which has been the fact that my ex takes home 4 times a week what I make and I pay only $30 less a week in support than he does.

So, the latest besides the bimonthly phone calls from my son that tell me what a horrible sick parent I was and how I abused my son is the tax issue. Which returns me to the first paragraph.  I claimed my son in 2007 because my ex was more than $5000 behind in support and so can’t legally claim him, anyway.  My ex took me to court and decided that he would convince the judge that I needed to change my taxes. Besides the fact that this would incur somewhere around $3000 in penalties on me, I found out from the IRS that a county court judge cannot order me to change my taxes.  This has to come from a federal judge.  So, I stood my ground and withstood  an audit.  The audit showed that I was not wrong and that I did not have to change my taxes.  I showed the judge the letter that said so and he basically ignored it.

In October,  I was supposed to go to court at the midmonth. The two days before court I spent throwing up.  This is one of the bad things about having Asperger’s.  Every little tiny bit of stress goes straight to my tummy, so of course, I was upset and could hardly function. After 3 years of watching me function under this unbelievable stress, my husband made an executive decision and told me to call the lawyer and tell him I was too sick to be there.  Which I did.  Hours later I was getting phonecalls asking where I was.  Two weeks later I was summoned to court again. This time, I took a coworker who was acting as my disability advocate.  The judge decided that I needed to go to jail.  At some point, I was in full meltdown when this happened so I can’t tell you when, I was forced to sign things that I have no idea about what they were and handcuffed to a chair.  Now, although I agree that the image of a 40 year old woman hugging a teddy bear and rocking while handcuffed by one wrist to a chair has a certain comic quality to it, it was by no means funny at the time.  After signing whatever they asked me to without knowing what it was, I was finally released.

In November, I received a letter from the IRS saying that they had reopened the audit because of the correspondence that they had received from me at the end of October.  I immediately called the IRS and told them that I could not be held legally responsible for the letter that they received because of the situation and I told them what the situation had been.

Today I received a letter that stated that the IRS was in error that they had even received a letter and that they were sorry that they had worried me or possibly inconvenienced me.  My guardian angel is finally looking out for me.  Something is finally going right for me.  I can’t hardly believe it. Could this year finally be looking up?  I’m almost afraid to hope.

Wee Geek will be 18 on Friday.  I hope that he’ll be able to start seeing things a little more clearly.  I hope that he’ll be able to start thinking about the things that I did do for him. That he’ll start to understand how I sacrificed things for him so that he could have a life free of all the crap that I divorced his dad to get away from.  I hope that he starts to sort out reality from the garbage that his dad tells him.  I don’t dare hope for much more than that, but it’s a small glimmer of light in all of this sea of hopelessness.