Archive for the narrative memoir Category

Post #160 – About The Expiration Date and the End of the Beehive Hairdo

Posted in Family, family battles, family drama, grandmothers, humor, life, memoir, Motherhood, narrative memoir, nonfiction, people, relationships, true stories, uncategoried, work, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 29, 2016 by tenaciousbitch

Knowing that each of us has an expiration date does not make it any easier when we’re told that the end is near for a family member or a friend – even if that person is 99 years old. I got that phone call earlier today from a hospice nurse about my Grandmother. She hasn’t been able to eat more than a bite or 2 of food at a time, and she’s been sleeping pretty much since Thanksgiving.

And the nurse said she was too weak to speak to me even if she brought Nana the phone. That’s when I broke down because anyone who knows Nana – knows that the only thing in this universe that would stop her from talking would be if the Grim Reaper himself was hovering about her bed.And the nurse kept using the word “declining”, which I tend to think of as a hospice buzz word synonymous with dying. I remember hearing that term a few days before my mother passed away.

I was absolutely miserable when Nana lived with us for two very long years, i.e. check out Post #1 about what she said to me when my mother was terminally ill @

And/or this post about Nana’s back-handed racisim @  However, I found myself sobbing on the way to the grocery store where I went to fax some paperwork to hospice in order to secure her care for however long she has left.

Ten minutes, I was told for the confirmation that the fax went through to Vitas Hospice’s office. Ten. Long. Minutes trying not to start crying again in front of total strangers. And then, a miracle happened. I decided I’d treat myself to my favorite dessert, vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup. On my way to the beloved freezer holding my creamy comfort in a 1/2 gallon box, I realized that God knew how sad I would be at this moment, and a miracle occurred that caused me to break into a wide smile despite my melancholy mood…

ALL OF MY FAVORITE ICE CREAM TREATS WERE ON SALE…:) november-29-2016-019   And the Skinny Cow was buy one get one FREE! I don’t think that’s every happened that I can recall. 

So, despite the fact that I started bawling again in my car on the way home, I realized life really is about the little things. The ice cream miracle. The fact that my husband does the dishes without me asking him to do so as well as watching the hilarious antics of my cats, one of whom has learned to lock herself in the bathroom when she wants some downtime from the other 2 cats (funny story for another day).

And last but not least, the incredible euphoria I experience every single time I go to the beach (any beach, Florida, California, New Jersey, doesn’t matter), and I sit staring at the vast expanse of water roaring to and fro in front of me. There’s nothing in this world that I enjoy more (as far as leisure activities, that is) than lying on the beach on a hot and sunny day…except maybe lying on the beach with a good book.

And I wondered if any of those wonderful moments that Nana has experienced over her nearly 100 years were ruminating through her mind as she drifts away from this world. I hope so. And I decided that I was going to remember Nana as the crazy redheaded woman who spoiled me rotten every time we came to visit…who so loved the hairstyle shown in the photo below…which I never really understood but Nana never really understood my love of science fiction and zombie movies either…:)nana-demonstrating-shoes That said, even though she and I are very different in a lot of ways, she taught me a very valuable life lesson – just by the way she lived her life. And I’m sure she doesn’t even realize what I’ve gleaned from her in this respect.

In that, the most important ingredient to happiness is to be true to yourself. And it’s okay if you’re not like other women, or other people in general. Nana was the FIRST woman in her family and among her friends who worked after she got married.

A year or so after my mother was born, Nana took a job at the company store. My mother grew up in the coal fields of West Virginia. And Nana got to know the manager of the company store at church, and he mentioned that he needed a part-time clerk. My grandmother eagerly took the job, not because she needed the money, but because she WANTED to work. And she eventually became the manager of the store.

She wasn’t happy sitting around the house all day cleaning and changing diapers. And this was in 1936! Such just wasn’t done, but Nana did it! She didn’t care what other people thought about it either. My grandfather was shocked and confused, but he knew Nana well enough to know that it didn’t do any good to argue with her or to try to dissuade her from whatever she wanted. She was going to do it anyway. And she worked until she was 78 years old. She retired 3 times before she finally decided it was time to give work a rest.

I hope that I’m able to see Nana again before she’s ushered from this world.  When taking care of Nana got to be too much, and she needed full-time care, she didn’t want to be in a nursing home here in Ohio where I live because she hates the weather here. She requested to move back down South where she’d lived for more than 50 years.

So, we put her in a nursing home about 5 miles from the house where she had lived from 1976 until she moved in with me and my husband in 2011. And they’ve taken very good care of her though they refer to her as “the Diva”, which is more than appropriate because I’ve never encountered anyone more spoiled than she is, God Bless Her…:) And there are quite a few posts herein that will more than quantify that nickname.

And so with that, I will say adieu so that I can make travel plans to see the crazy redhead one more time before her lights go out in Georgia for the last time.

Over and out from CASA DE CRAZY…

~TenaciousBitch and her band of truth-spouting hippies


Post #147 – Update on the job debacle…

Posted in humor, memoir, narrative memoir, nonfiction, true stories with tags , , , , , , , , on March 4, 2015 by tenaciousbitch

Soooooo – after getting fingerprinted again on the 19th for this job at Mega Bank, mentioned previously @

I heard back from Lisa, the recruiter, last Wednesday, February 25, my birthday no less, that my background check had come back “clear”. Of course, it did. I don’t even jaywalk or chew gum in public (or behind closed doors for that matter). And the only thing that might’ve come up on my drug screen would’ve been an excess of Splenda.

HOWEVER, no start date had yet to be proffered as promised. So, should I just show up when I feel like it? The unwanted house guest to corporate hell, or consult a psychic who might could glean the date from my crazy Aunt Doreen whose known to lurk about the vale just hoping a clairvoyant might holler her way?

“But they sent information on your Teleo login for their timekeeping program, so we should have a start date here in a day or two.”

OR TWO? Really? You gotta stop snacking on crack, Lisa, cuz it’s not good for your health, much less what might happen if you got tapped for a random drug test.

That said, let’s review the math, again, shall we? I was offered this job on FEBRUARY FOURTH, 21 days prior to the date that the results of my 2nd BCI check were finally emailed to Lisa. But Mega Bank still hasn’t provided the date I’ll begin training for this job that I didn’t interview for? This job with its very vague job description, having something to do with reviewing mortgage application paperwork.


That said, ask me how many days transpire before I’m finally given a new hire date? Not one or two days. Not four or five days. Six LONG days after my nonexistent rap sheet went zinging through cyberspace and landed upon Lisa’s computer.

As of Day Four, I had pretty much given up and had started furiously applying for alternative employment like mad for fear that once my background finally came back, the job quota would be filled or something.

However, I did receive an email from Lisa last Friday that the hiring manager at Mega had been out of the office for the last two days, and she assumed she’d hear from Mega on Monday. NOT. So. Much. Monday came and went, marked by radio silence.

Then, I decided to take a little break from my manic job search yesterday by walking to a nearby convenience store to get a Diet Pepsi because I was completely out. We were experiencing a record high of 36 degrees (WOO HOO), and the Weather Channel said it wasn’t going to rain until around 1-1:30, but like all the intel I’ve been privy to lately, t’was not the case. It started drizzling the moment I stepped off my front porch around 12:05 PM and turned into full-blown rain five minutes later. But I had an umbrella, so it was okay.

I was 10 feet from my front door when my phone rang.

“I have start date for you,” Lisa said tentatively.


“March 23rd.”

Once again, this mental phrase bounced about my brain – ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? I shook my head and sighed.

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear,” Lisa said apologetically.

“No, not really,” I said, pausing to gather my thoughts. Now that my husband is working, and he just got his first check…”That’ll be okay, especially since I think everything is finally straightened out with unemployment, and I should get a check this week.”

“Okay. Good. I’m really sorry it’s taken so long. And I really appreciate your patience and understanding-”

The hell with my patience. I need a fucking paycheck, and so far Mega is the only offer on the table. However, as of March 23, it will have been 47 days since I was offered this job, which is absolutely ludicrous especially since I’m really not crazy about commuting the 20+ miles to Mega – right through downtown, which is always a nightmare during rush hour, and the pay rate isn’t as high as the other jobs that I’ve pursued.

Deep down, I’m glad to have the time to blog and to work on the memoir I’ve been chipping away at for two years, but I dread telling my husband that I might be short on my Visa next month. I’d rather chop off my right hand than ask Charlie to make that payment, but I may not have a choice.

On the plus side, hopefully, Mother Nature will have ceased dumping snow across the Midwest by 3/23.

And funny thing, 29 years ago on March 23, I married Rory’s Dad, a decision that changed my life forever, and also a union that ended horribly. Not that I have any regrets since I got an AWESOME kid out of the deal, but still…weird coincidence, n’est-ce pas?

And, of course, now that my new employment digs have been wrapped up with an officious start date, I’ve been offered 2 other jobs, one of which is only 10 minutes from my house…sigh.

But…it is what it is. I need this stupid paycheck. Here’s hoping that this new endeavor I’ll be embarking upon in 19 days will be a life-altering event of the opposite persuasion from 29 years ago, i.e. a GOOD THING.

Over and out from INSANITY CENTRAL…

~TenaciousBitch and her band of truth-spouting hippies


A more than public ANNOUNCEMENT….

Posted in dating, Family, memoir, narrative memoir, relationships, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on April 10, 2012 by tenaciousbitch

These days my time is stretched so thin, I’m surprised I haven’t caused the SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM to snap and go offline!  And if you don’t know what that means, GO watch a couple dozen episodes of STAR TREK (or ALL the movies) – and do it quickly, for God’s sakes before the Romulans toss us into cyberspace forever…or the Ferenge (or is it Farengue?) steal all of our GOLD/money/furniture/Hondas/Fords/Lincolns/Bentley’s/Yugos/water fountains…etc.

That said, HEAR YE, HEAR YE…the taxes are crunched AND folded and have been delivered to my HEROIC accountant, and they will be FILED forthwith. THANK YOU, GOD…

And…I’m diligently burning the midnight synapses in order to finish the SEQUEL to The Reckoning in Southie…so stay tuned all…and hopefully, tomorrow…you will be regaled by yet another crazy-assed tale of my Stop and Smell the Crazy life…or something like that… 🙂

Have a good EVENING ALL…back to the darkness from whence my words doth slithered…

Over and out from f*cked up central…


MINI Post #55 – And, then, there was a foreclosure…

Posted in Family, family battles, grandmothers, memoir, narrative memoir, relationships, true crime, true stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 1, 2012 by tenaciousbitch

Just wanted to apologize that I haven’t finished the sequel to the last post, entitled – The Reckoning in Boston.

We had a yard sale this past Friday and Saturday to sell the never-ending supply of Bicentennial plates, and other knick knacks that my husband inherited from his Grandfather who died in ’09, of which there were originally 25 (yes, TWENTY-FIVE) boxes of such in our attic, and now there’s only 20 (YIPPEE)…and we wanted to to sell the remnants of Nana’s* household goods, and there are still 12 boxes or so of knick knacks, etc., some of which I have to box up (again) for the Salvation Army to pick up in a couple of days. The aftermath of said yard sale now litters my living room (photo below). So, THAT took a lot of my time…and this is only a PARTIAL amount of the OTHER boxes of JUNK as there’s more in the dining rm…

Boxes cluttering up my living room AFTER the yard sale...

Prior to that, I was tied up attempting to slay the dragon known as Medicare.  Nana’s prescription drug plan had been cancelled due to ridiculous bureaucratic nonsense. After many hours of combat spent upon the telephone, and though I was re-directed down blind alleys, misinformed and given conflicting avenues to pursue, I arose victorious. And Nana has prescription coverage once again as of this date. However, of course, conquering this dragon took more of my precious time than it should have…

Then, when a bright future dawned upon the horizon, due to another miscommunication with the company that holds the reverse mortgage on Nana’s house in Georgia, her house has been mistakenly put on that dreaded list of foreclosure targets. Yes, a lawsuit was filed a couple of weeks ago, and we received notice via a gentleman bearing the word DEPUTY upon his bullet-proofed vest a couple of nights ago when he served the Complaint upon my person…though I had informed said financial institution in February that Nana wished to turn her house over to them after we emptied it, which just occurred a few days ago. So, someone DROPPED the ball, clicked the wrong checkbox, and now I have yet another mess to clean up because of Danny’s** misdeeds… and many more phone calls and headaches looming upon the morrow.

And aside from all that, I must begin preparing stacks of spreadsheets and various documentation for my CPA…in order that he can execute/file our 10-40 long form/mega complicated and daunting taxes…and last year, the paperwork that I submitted to him was around 150 pages…ho hum…off to my OWN bureaucratic hell… 🙂

Therefore, I will finish the sequel to The Reckoning in Boston as soon as I can, ladies and gents…just hated to leave you hanging…wondering if I had been offed by Colonel Mustard or that devious BUTLER with a candlestick in the library (or, perhaps, the dining room?)…so I wrote this post to assuage those fears…

THANKS! And have a great day! 🙂


*Stories/posts about my Grandmother begin with the first post entitled – As My Mother Lay Dying about how my alcoholic/crackhead brother, fleeced her for every DIME she has, which totaled somewhere around $50K…

**I.E.,Again… Danny is the crackhead brother mentioned above who pilfered all of Nana’s cash and liquidated all of the remaining equity in her house re: the Reverse Mortgage in question…