Bring on Your Bad Taste!

Oh, Sundays! I love Sundays. Sundays are good for a couple of reasons: First, we get to go to church, and by Sunday I need it badly. Then, there is the long nap on Sunday afternoon. Sunday afternoon is the only day of the week I can nap. I know this, because I've tried napping on other days, and it just doesn't work.

What I realized today after taking a short, brief inventory of the week was that there were a few things in the previous posts I wish I had mentioned, but didn't: Things that seem pertinent in some odd way.

About our most recent court mediation on Friday, I neglected to mention that the judge seems partial. Now, our attorneys vehemently defend the judge, but the judge is personal friends with Mim and Cat's attorney, so it seems logical that she would be somewhat partial. She said they golf together, go places together, make sand castles on the beach together, and do each other's toenails at sleepovers -- OK, the last two things I made up, but I imagined all that during our courtroom drama. Let's just say this, if my friend was in a mediation against some lackluster, impoverished unknown, I'd be completely partial. In fact, I'd try and institute the electric chair, which brings me to my next point about our most recent mediation.

I had joked earlier in the morning that the logical punishment from the judge against us would be boiling oil over our naked bodies in the St. James Park (the park for homeless people across from the San Jose courthouse). Hey, maybe our swinger neighbors will show up. Wherever there is nakedness, they party like it's 1999. Anyway, I had joked about this with Rick, saying that then Mim and Cat could enslave the kids for the rest of their natural lives, since they did say at some point in this process that they wanted to ruin the kids' lives too.

That was all a joke though, a morbid joke. Then, the diminutive judge said something to the effect that Mim and Cat would like to go through our building and take an assessment of our assets. Say what? It felt like boiling oil. I could feel it dripping slowly down my head, onto my neck. "Yes," she continued, "they would like to see what you have as far as assets." I imagined the eventuality of Mim and Cat rifling through my underwear drawer, and was repulsed. I think I started to cry.

With those devastating words barely out of her small mouth, the judge continued, "And, maybe Rick you could never work in this industry again..." I don't know. I think I lost consciousness. My head was spinning at the vision of a couple of evil senior citizens perusing through my pantie drawer, and Rick greeting visitors as Walmart. There are moments in life when it's all too much to comprehend and this was one of those moments.

Nooooo, the judge isn't partial, she's just sadistic. Mind you, we were reminded when I regained consciousness that these were just "suggestions." You know, like I suggest you go jump off a cliff, or I suggest you go play on a busy freeway, or I suggest that you lie down for a little nappy nap on some train track. You know, just "suggestions." Harmless, silly, laughable, lets have a beer over it "suggestions." Never mind that they're suggesting we annihilate our lives at the maniacal whim of some crazy man and his nutty wife!

You'll wonder what we did to these people, and let me just say this, we bought a business from Mim and Cat and then, Mim did some unsavory things to an employee, for which we had to employ legal action. After that, I'm afraid he was bent and determined to ruin us, and said so. Oh, and the other thing, before the "unsavory thing," he actually fradulently misrepresented the business to us, not letting us know that he was cancelled by the main supplier before he sold us the business. Nice, huh? Well, our pushing back on their fraud and other breaches of contract has really angered them. They are furious, in fact. They are determined to spend the last days of their lives ruining us. Determined!

Anyhoo, they are super rich, because a lot of mean people are. At least that's what I'm finding. The other day a friend of mine said the simplest thing, but it made so much sense. She said, "Money is stupid." Really, isn't it? I mean, you need it as badly as air to survive, and yet, no matter how hard you work, or how deeply you breathe in, you cannot always get it. Money is, indeed, stupid.

So, now we are done with our court mediations, because court mediations are for settlement, but the Breager's don't want to settle. They want to destroy. They want to come in our building, bought with our own money, and not even owned by the company, and tour it for whatever they might be able to get from us.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Probably not, because you're probably nicer than I am. I tell you, this has made me dig deeper to the depths in my soul I did not know existed. See? I painted the pictures in that blasted building -- my first foray into modern art. (See my facebook album). Those paintings are mine, since I painted those out of love for my honey-bun, not money.

And, out of all the munutia I heard from attorneys and judges on Friday, I heard this: "Don't worry Michelle, when they visit, you can essentially "stage" the office. It's just like staging." Now, you get me? What should evil people see in their grasp at my stuff? Well, butterflies, puppies, Star Wars posters, and Carebears, of course! Maybe some pink shag toilet seat covers in the bathrooms? I think it would be so homey for them. Maybe a lava lamp. The choices are endless. I'm thinking about a dreamcatcher for the waiting area, or in the front door, but only if it's ladened with more than average feathers. I don't want some cheap thing. I mean, anyone can pick up a featherless dreamcather, but if I can find some feather laden things, and shag stuff, I think I will be sending just the right message.

If anyone reading has something especially "special," send it on! This is the time to showcase your best things for the Breagers: Let's see what we get and I'll take pictures and post. They might be able to fight us with their money, but I will fight back with bad taste, and there's nothing they can do about it. Oh, to have "Velvis" back, that velvet Elvis painting my mother had for all of those years. I long for that kind of artwork.

I'll be taking a field trip to Goodwill soon. I hope I can find some stellar things to showcase, and send the right message. Really, what is the message I'm sending? I'm sending the message that though I haven't found the right stone to defeat my giant yet, I know I'll find it eventually, because I'm small and weak comparatively to the Breagers, but there's still some fight left in me. I won't give up until God clearly tells me it's over. The giant is taunting me, but my God is greater and bigger than the man who taunts me. And, there are days I'm broken, but my God won't let me be destroyed.

Josh 1:9 - "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."