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That Bitch Sandy and A Broken Ring

Published January 23, 2013 by Sandee

I love fellow blogger Claire Cappetta’s playful comments on my blog.  I admire the way she weathered that bitch Sandy – pun totally intended.  She was in the midst, filming as it happened – wow!

http://clairecappetta.wordpress.com/2012/11/15/my-video-view-of-sandy-before-it-hit/

While she experienced her own trial, she became part of a community spirit with those in her area helping others in need.  Inspirational indeed.

http://clairecappetta.wordpress.com/2012/11/05/hurricane-sandy-new-friendships-and-a-new-surreal-world/

I enjoyed her book A Broken Ring.  It’s about a woman’s self-discovery during a series of abusive relationships, something that a lot of people can relate to.  Her character comes out in the end with a sense of empowerment.

A Broken Ring

Not surprising that someone with the fortitude to help others throughout her own challenge could create a story encompassing a journey leading to self-recognition and strength.  I advise you to check it out.  It’s an engaging read.

Claire is also an activist, helping to raise awareness about domestic abuse – boy I tell you – she’s someone to be admired!

Glad to be part of your blogging community Claire!

A Sword-Chinned B***h’s Answers to That Fred Guy’s W**dP**ss Challenge

Published June 14, 2012 by Sandee

Hello everyone, here are my answers to the WordPress challenge from That Fred Guy, yeah, THAT GUY:

What makes me unique and how does my blog showcase that?                                

Oh no no no no no — I’m not unique!  I have some, unique interests, yes?  I’m a black girl who likes death metal– no, no – I’m a middle-aged black girl who likes death metal.  While a lot of the old dm bands are middle-aged, the audience is generally made up of young white males but I don’t give a crap about that.  They’re nice chaps who think of me as Auntie Sword-Chinned Bitch \m/.  Okay, so I also want to have a society based on the barter system – that might be unique.  Okay?

What drives me to blog?

What drives me to blog is my book.  Do you like my writing?  Well then, you’ll like my book.  Do you like ass?  Do you like cake?  Well then you’ll love my book!  I hope you like my blog enough where you’d at least consider going to the bank and taking out .99 cents to buy my book.  But while blogging to promote my ass cake book, I’ve become cyber pen pals with Fred, SSG and a bunch of other nice folks from around the world – I never anticipated that.  So, nevermind about the book – no, no, no don’t forget about my book.

What irks me about blogging?

It cuts into my cake-eating activity.

How does blogging aid me in standing out from the crowd?

I can say that I communicate with people from around the world on a daily basis.  I can lie and say that I know them all personally, that I’m special in that regard and have international secrets…

Uhhhh…yeah…I, ah…

Published June 9, 2012 by Sandee

I wonder what you bloggers are like all fleshed out.  How do you smell?  Do you have armpit odor? – I love armpit odor.  What color are your auras?  It’s hard to tell from the mini-faces that come when you like my post.  I uploaded Grandma Hattie’s painting for mine.  I hope you like it but if you don’t it’s okay.

Me, well, I’m everything you’d imagine.  Why I’m all, well, kind of…  I’m a biped.  I wear light fragrance.  But I don’t know what I smell like really – it’s kind of hard, you know, being inside of your own body, to smell what you smell like…  I don’t use deodorant.  I use a mineral.  Sometimes it doesn’t work.  When that happens I have, armpit odor.  Um… kinky hair…  My skin has a sheen on it, and, I’m a kind person, actually – brown with round eyes…  Uhhh…yeah.  I, ah — English is my mother tongue.  I speak it fairly well and I know phrases and curse words in other languages. That’s how I’m describing myself now.  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it.

Heeelp!!!!!!!!!!!!

Published May 5, 2012 by Sandee

Can you put me in a medically induced coma?  For the last month I have been waiting for some news to come by May 9th, so this last week has been murder.  The sand is running out of the hour glass.  May 9th is nigh, and I exist with a frantic edge.  I’m afraid I can’t tell you what I’m waiting for at this time.  If I told you, I’d have to — you know the rest.  I’m not waiting for the results of a medical test thank goodness.

The medically induced coma would put my evil mind to rest during this waiting period.  My mind inflicts my body with odd little glitches and a vague malaise.  Having experienced neurosis-driven conditions before, I suspect that this waiting for May 9th period (along with a few other issues) has quite a bit to do with my insomnia and the one or two other physical things happening to me that I won’t even bother to get into.

In my early twenties, suddenly I couldn’t swallow food – except for sweets (very tell-tale about this so-called ‘swallowing condition’) – and anyone who knows me well knows that I’d rather eat cake than food – fuck food.  (The going out and getting it, the energy used to balance your diet, killing it, cooking it, taking an hour to eat it – what a pain!)  I went to the doctor, who prescribed a lovely medication.  The pill allowed me to swallow food once more, and it also made me unusually mellow.  I called the doctor to find out what was in the pill and he told me that it was phenobarbital (I was a dumb kid who didn’t think to ask what was in it before he prescribed it – if I had known I wouldn’t have taken it).

This was a lesson about my neurosis.  I have seen as well what stress does to other people, what sicknesses they contract because of it, so I just remind myself of this mind-body connection, hoping that my body will eventually see the dirty little trick that my mind has been playing (Or is this the other way around?).

I’ve seen what some fellow bloggers in the sphere have lived through so I know I can do it.  But I’ll do it with a slight sense of hell…  In the interim, I must remember to be kind, helpful, and compassionate to people, to be of service – it’s not all about me — but it is all about me dammit.  Thanks for listening.