My mockery of Shaunie O’Neal and the other used to be basketball wives will have to wait until the reunion part 2.
Some of you who visit Vizionz actually know me on a personal level. I am happy to say though it is a smaller and smaller percentage each day.
For those who actually know me, when I say onion you say Nicole, and no I am not talking about my booty.
The onion is a tad bit unique because it has so many layers. I am unique in part also because of my many layers.
As much as I share about my life, there is so much more that I do not. I keep a significant portion of who I am private.
For example my child’s name is not Clyde, nor is my mother’s name Bonnie. The Man has a government name that you will never hear me say, and the things that I go trough in a ‘typical’ day are rarely typical.
The phrase just another day in the life of a bottom bitch was coined to give the impression that things were mundane. Little could be further from the truth.
Real Gs move in silence and I don’t talk much about the things that happen here within these four walls. I could I am sure. It would gain my empathy – sympathy – and a whole host of other good (athys) that I could use sometimes, but I would rather just keep plugging along. This is a segment of my life that does not require that much attention.
When things get extra difficult I talk to my therapist. When things get extra funny you constant reader get the Bonnie & Clyde Chronicles.
Today you get to see the world through my eyes for just a moment. Hopefully you will be reminded as well that there is beauty – honor – love – and charity out there. Even more hopefully this will inspire someone to go out and pay the good will forward.
For a multitude of reasons I stopped working outside of the home in 2009. Losing my income has been tough on our little family. We get by – just like so many are getting by in this shitty economy – but it is not always simple. It is not always pretty.
My niece and her baby came by this weekend, and as I was making Sunday dinner I ran out of hot water.
If you’ve ever turned on the hot water here, you would understand how odd that is.
As I left the kitchen to ask my niece what she was doing that I no longer had hot water….I heard it. I heard the distinctive sound of running water. I also heard it in the basement.
I opened the basement door JUST TO BE SURE and immediately fell to the floor in tears. I got up because it occurred to me there happened to be 30 gallons of water in that tank, but my first reaction was to just sit down and cry.
Many things have been happening here in the house and the failure of the hot water heater at that very second seemed like too much to bear. I thought to myself this is the final straw to break this camels back and how on earth have I held on for so long???
Once I stopped the hemorrhaging water I put in a call to The Man. In hindsight I am quite proud of myself for doing that. 4 months ago I would not have done that and it would have been a problem. When he did not pick up I sent a text message and the universe sent my friend to me on the phone to keep me from collapsing again into tears.
She’s a pistol, and one thing that it is DIFFICULT to do while on the phone with her? Have a pity party. Those last about 4.3 seconds and then the curse words start.
As she and I spoke about the HW heater and other things, I was in a text message flurry of activity with The Man.
The thing about this lifestyle? It is not 9 1/2 Weeks. Every Dominant male is not independently wealthy. I happened to fall in love with one of those who are not. As He and I went over what the options were, Saki kept me moving and sane and functioning. The universe ALWAYS delivers.
Monday the waters began to recede and inspection showed that yeppers – the thing was shot to all hell and there was no bringing her back. No No No.
The Man and I discussed some more items and options, and nothing looked very good. There appeared to be one obstacle after the other as the solution to the no hot water remained out of reach.
I had a panic attack and then I did something that I do not do. Ever. Under no circumstances.
I sent a text to my friend K, and asked for help.
To put this into perspective….given the choice between A) cutting my breasts off with a rusty spork or B) asking for help? I will take option A 9 times out of 10.
It is who I am – it is what I do not do and I do not ask for help.
The text was simple as was the thought pattern:
K knows a lot of people. Some of them must be plumbers. One of them may be able to point me in a direction to get a HW
K asked me a simple question that sent me into another panic attack after I said : yes.
Mind if I put out a message on Fet?
He did, and while I do not know the exact number of responses he got? Based on what HAPPENED….it was a shit load.
As I sat in my doctor’s office the Blackberry kept exploding with messages about possible solutions.
K god bless him, had much more faith in humanity than I did, and thought…if you ask they will respond.
By that afternoon he’d split the atom, and had narrowed down the choices of heaters for me to good better and are you fucking kidding me? He’d also found people who were plumbers and could install the thing once it got on the premises.
K and I are still exchanging text messages…..until I get one where he says Check your Fetmail.
I do and fall to the floor and start crying.
(yes I fall to the floor and cry a lot ….. so what I am under pressure)
The essence of the message was : virtually brand new unit available, top of the line, never been kissed, in MANHATTAN.
Ummmm but I live in Philadelphia!
Kindness and generosity have no borders.
Now we needed to get the unit from THERE to HERE.
K god bless him, decided he would rent a truck and pick it up himself. I don’t care how much that man masturbates…his seat in heaven is now secured.
By now Bonnie has realized that we have no hot water, and I am worried that the stress of it will make her ill. Just give it a day mom I say, it will work out. The side eye she gives me is EPIC and my spine tied itself in a knot.
I begin the process of moving out water damaged items Thurs morning, while getting updates from K as he hits the turnpike.
The morning weather report: monsoon.
The morning traffic on the turnpike: parking lot
K’s health: ill yes the man went out in the monsoon, being sick, having an issue at his home that I will not disclose, and traveled the one stretch of road he hates the most – the New Jersey Turnpike. To get a hot water heater for this house.
Afternoon comes and K & Pierre unload the new unit.
I managed to not fall down and cry, but that is only because there were still wet spots on the basement floor.
I would later retreat upstairs to have my fall down and cry moment.
The installation was a challenge as well.
Chuck is the brother in law of Mr A, Clyde’s super therapist who leaps tall buildings in a single bound.
Chuck came to my home, after working for 10 hours, ON SEPTA, to install our fancy new heater.
When it was almost done, he realized that he did not have the sealant for the gas line, and went to Home Depot – ON SEPTA – to purchase it.
Only……… 5 minutes after he walked out of the door the second monsoon of the day arrived.
He called me on his cell phone to explain that he did not think he would make it to Home Depot in time SO he would go HOME – ON SEPTA – get sealant and COME BACK.
No Chuck I say, it will wait another day.
He hung up on me.
As you can see my life is FULL of Dominant men.
The universe was not done yet showing me that humanity is not lost. Pierre stopped back by the house, and he met Chuck the Plumber – in the monsoon – and drove him back to my house.
I share this story so that those who read will understand that despite what you see on the 6 o clock news – people are still loving and genuine and caring and are willing to step up and help those who need it.
We absolutely needed it and without the efforts of so many – and the charity of so many I can not tell you what the outcome would have been.
Some of it is a little of the good fortune I have built by not kicking cats over the years, but most of it was just the love and generosity of people willing to help because there was a need for that help.
That can not truly be thanked…it can only be shared and paid forward.
It’s 12:30. I am going to take my first hot bath since Saturday…and then I plan on falling down and crying.