Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

recycling bathroom

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

I'm not allowed to speak to her, when she's in her bedroom. I have to email her from elsewhere in the house. This, and the following, post are examples.

Frankly, I'd prefer not to have to speak to her.

As I drove her to work today, she refused to speak to me because she has a sore throat. She said I should email her. I told her I've sent more than five emails this morning alone and hadn't received replies to any of them. I still haven't.

She refuses to flush toilet paper, presumably for environmental reasons. But she'll throw recycleables into the trash, with her soiled toilet paper?

I see you've put an empty sunblock container in the
bathroom trash, along with your shitty toilet paper.
I'll have to fetch it out, to put it in recycling. I'd
appreciate it if you didn't put bathroom recycleables
in that trash. I don't wany your shit on my hands.


You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

Last night, I told you I wanted you to dump the
bathroom trash into the farthest container on the
street, in front of our neighbor's house. I then said
that there is a piece of chicken wire, next to the
trash barrel there. I wanted you to cover the bathroom
trash with that chicken wire, to prevent shitty toilet
paper from flying all over the street, when they pick
up the container today.

It's a good thing I needed to put some old food from
the refrigerator in the trash this morning. I saw the
chicken wire, on the sidewalk in front of our
neighbor's place, and put it in the container. I don't
want bad feelings with my neighbors, and would
appreciate your cooperation in that effort.

When you agree to do something and then don't follow
through, I feel very distrustful of you. It's very
stressful to have to follow you around to see that
you've kept your commitments. I don't need the extra
work or emotional stress

to a group of significant others of transexuals

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

I've been with Ma 3 yrs. Knew she was a mtf when we got involved.
Actually, she was intersexed, designated male by family. Her story is
further unique in that she castrated herself when she was 13, all
alone. She's closeted, so I can't talk to anybody, really, about
what's going on.

She has systematically excluded me from her life over the past, 3
years. After 1 year, we were no longer intimate. I tolerated that, as
I love her. I don't know if I'd hoped things would improve in time,
or if I was just willing to settle.

But things have deteriorated. I honestly believe she sees me as
second class and that I'm not a priority in her life, emotionally,
socially, etc.

I helped her finish her bachelors degree. I wasn't allowed to talk to
her while she was studying or doing anything work related. I did most
of the household chores, including her laundry, meals, etc. I was her
volunteer research assistant, editor, etc. for school.

Last summer, she said she didn't want to live with me anymore. This
was less than a month after her graduation.

I said that I've put up with her special requirements for three
years, in order that she complete her degree. Her needs have been the
primary focus of the household. I said I deserved three years, back,
in order that we might improve our relationship/friendship/whatever.
She agreed.

I got sick and couldn't do the outside chores fast enough to suit the
landlady. We got an eviction notice in August, with a move out date
of Oct. 31, today. I've packed, moved and unpacked almost every item
from the house and cleaned the property, sick.

During the move, she announce she will only live with me long enough
for me to establish the household. Then, she'll move out and I'll
need a roommate. This will happen in about ONE year, she said. I was
completely floored.

She resents every bit of work she has done, related to the move, that
was NOT about her personal items, directly. She takes it out on me in
very passive aggressive and indirect way. For some event, totally
unrelated to the move, she'll behave shabbily toward me. I'll ask why
she's treating me this way and she'll reply with something oblique
like, "you're high maintanance." Compared to her, I certainly am not.
So, I'll ask her to elaborate, and she'll voice her resentment at
packing my stuff!

We just moved to a new place.

Last night, she announced that she will move out if she
feels "unhappy." She feels unhappy, most of the time. She's a
compulsive overeater. She has body dysmorphia. She's emotionally
repressed. She's chronically depressed. I suggested she look for a
therapist, but she says that's not a priority right now.

Mostly, she's unhappy when she treats me like I'm second class, and I
have the nerve to call her on it and expect to be treated as an equal.

I am disabled and low income. I'm neither as strong nor as
economically secure as she. Now, any time I dare to ask her to do
such things as: not leave used toilet paper on the bathroom floor,
listen to what I'm saying, consult with me before she makes major
decisions that affect me, do her chores..... she threatens to move
out because she's not happy.

She's becoming VERY verbally abusive. She does and says things she
KNOWS provoke me, to try to get me angry enough so she can threaten
to move out. She ignores me when I speak. She makes lots of noise
when I'm sleeping. She won't grant me access to her bedroom, even
though the internet connections and other, vital things are hoarded
there. I'm not allowed to speak to her when she's in her bedroom and
must EMAIL HER from elsewhere in the house!

Basically: she's ACTING LIKE A MAN and I'm sick of it!

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Finally moved in!

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Well, I guess I can say we’re officially moved in to our new place: a 2-bedroom duplex near Kirtland Air Force Base. It’s a quiet street. We have a pretty large yard, with concrete walls.

Our neighbors in the front pester us constantly: staring at us, calling the landlady to complain about nonexistent problems, parking in our yard and driveway… creepy stuff. They’re trying to get out of paying their own rent, and are constantly citing reasons, as unsubstantiated as they are. We ignore them, whenever possible.

I have to make one, more trip back to the old place. I have to get my outdoor plants, some cans of paint nobody from Freecycle would take, some tools & cleaning supplies. I need to rake, clean the floor and clean the refrigerator.

After three years and an accumulated $18,000 rent, the landlady there couldn’t let me clean the yards at my own speed. I’ve told her I’m running a constant fever, that my teeth have caused a systemic infection, that I require oral surgery to remove dead teeth from my mouth. I was cleaning, but it wasn’t fast enough for her.

It’s not like it’s an upper middle class neighborhood, dwelling, etc. There’s so MUCH wrong with that house, I wouldn’t know where to start. Basically, repairs are all half assed and slap dash and there are NO right angles: floors, walls, and ceilings…. Ma and I can’t figure out WHY she thinks this place is so la-dee-dah.

I’ve built 2 sheds in the back of this place, for my chickens (apx. 6 of them, but they run so fast, who can count?), ducks (one pekin, one muskovie, both males – less quacky) and the goats, of course.

Tall bamboo surrounds most of the yard. I need to trim it, as much is over 15 ft. tall and tangling in power lines.

I’m building a 10 x 16 ft. patio enclosure off the kitchen door, so I can smoke outside without freezing, grow some plants, and store some kitchen stuff I don’t use often.

I’m investigating the possibility of keeping a colony of honeybees, too. This whole colony collapse thing has me worried. Maybe I can help by raising some healthy bees?

I haven’t written here consistently since I was volunteering regularly at KUNM, three years ago. The main reason is that a staff member, whom I knew pretty well, backslid into her cocaine addiction, began harassing me and was reading this blog CONSTANTLY, so she could email threats to me! She wasn’t just threatening me; she was threatening Ma, so I stopped writing. I ran into her at a grocery the other day; her mom is still paying for her, to keep her from hitting bottom and recovering. She has HUGE, dark circles under her eyes.

She asked me, “are you still afraid of me?”

I answered, “Yes.”

She said, “but that was YEARS ago!”

I said, “And I never got an apology.” As far as I know, she’s still out to get me and needs to be avoided.

But I think I should start writing again, anyway.

The move has been pretty exhausting. We bought an old Penske rental truck with a 10 ft. box on the back. That REALLY helped! It has a ramp and everything. Still moving is painful and I am really sick. I can’t wait to give our old neighbors, the Sernas, the keys to that place and drive away for the last time!

Now I’m off to find coffee; I got up at 4am today: not too unusual, but still…