MDS Re-Start, Proprietary Neighbors, and a Cat Named Outside

I very much want to start writing again today to anyone who will read.

DISCLAIMER My title is- jodi-Bove-i-am-the-glassblower.This does not mean I think I am The Glassblower , just using the “the” as in the glassblower at this place, booth, studio, venture, I am the glassblower. If you are at my site, blog, twit, insta or website…i am the glassblower here. Welcome!


I knew I was f***ed up when I had a hard time deciding between an urgent update on the sick war in Ukraine and an episode of Petticoat Junction that celebrates a new group -the Lady Bugs- and Uncle Joe trying to turn a quick profit on the excitement surrounding a new band called The Beatles.

I said to myself, “self, you have got to get a hobby”, because propane is overpriced right now, I will start writing..

I have taken a year off from social media and I do not think I was missed. I have taken almost two years off from writing (also not missed). And since my MD called for the first time in 29 years, I have barely said a peep or two. She scared me off.

I honestly never wanted the thin defense of not knowing how to find me. I have had the same number for over 30 years, it is a business number, and a website of the same. Accepting narcissism is so hard because you can’t possibly think like a narcissistic person to understand them, even if you are one, because only the narcissist and their needs, exist.

Narcissists rarely read other peoples thoughts unless in search of vindication or argument or it is simply about the narcissist themselves.

Obsession with appearance over feelings. A narcissistic mother is more obsessed with how their child is perceived by others than how the child actually feels. There is a disregard and often a denial for any sadness, discomfort, or suffering.

I was kinda lucky to catch the movie of Mommy Dearest based on a book by Joan Crawford’s Daughter Christina Crawford today. As a kid I never would have picked up this book, I fancied fantastical stories of science fiction and later became a Stephen King fan. I would never want to read such a real horror story-and wouldn’t have picked the movie either. I would much rather read of a Zombie cat or a murderous and rampaging convertible, or even killer appliances in Ray Bradbury’s prediction of a computer controlled home and society, than a real story of a deplorable and violent mommy.

Say hello Alexa..“Hello Mommy”

But as a movie -I did catch my first viewing of it when I caught my brother crying while watching, not knowing I was in the room. I admit, I wanted to know what scared and hurt him so much- so I could exploit it later if I needed the defense.

This brother was a monster that frightened and terrorized me and was a little like Joan Crawford in his demeanor. But we shared a fear and I felt sorry for him. Still do.

So this unhappy reminder of all things horrible in my life explained to me finally why I haven’t written.

In the short conversation I found out MD was reading my blog and challenged all the wrong red flags and argued I had the problem, not her. Example: I had an attitude problem that had nothing to do with a horrible life at home but something I chose to do and demonstrate. And she was worried how God would forgive her if she was guilty of this crimes, for she is a Catholic woman.

Catholic, MD only had to confess to and take responsibility for her actions in a church cubicle to His ears Only, and I was jealous of Him. Digressing is gonna be the pattern here..

I was in danger and I knew it. All the time I was. I became very self efficient and invisible most of the time. Metaphorically of course…another shout out to Bradbury and a firm belief that that was the true meaning of his vision.

Yes -it has affected me as an adult and writing about it gives it clarity, not remorse.

But I just wanted acknowledgement-so I could stupidly heal, and MD kinda did, for in a “what ever she did to upset me” kind of obscure excuse for an apology ..Yup I told you..

But I am still pissed and that’s why anger is my default emotion. ( better than stupid depression) Inconsolable as I am.


I have a new but crappy neighbor driving over my mailbox and barriers, and bending the mailbox iron stake to a 90* angle with his old black truck, or someone suspiciously and coincidentally not him, only on the weekends he and his truck are here. The last drive by I had just left my driveway and I saw his truck leave and found my mailbox knocked down moments later when I went to see who was driving so fast.


I wouldn’t let the heavy trucks driven by subcontractors use my driveway, for it was breaking the pavement. When they wouldn’t stop, I put up barriers. When the barriers were moved I put down broken glass. Subsequently they knocked down and crushed my mailbox, but the contractor replaced it.

Since then someone suspiciously and incidentally or coincidentally not my neighbor is pushing over my barriers and my mailbox on a semi regular basis, the last time ruining the 3’stake to my mailbox.

Once when his wife was there she opted if her husband can move my box to the other side to make it easier for the big trucks to back up because that is why this was happening. My mailbox was in their way.

I’m not sure why it’s there ‘right of way’ to drive on my lawn the 2’ it takes to reach my mailbox. Narcissists always find me and try to bully me. It’s a gift 🎁

On the bright side, animals often find me as well. A better gift. I have a lizard that lives in my mailbox and he swarms around my feet when I come by to rescue him once again from my crappy not neighbor. I also want to mention a cat named Outside. I already have Frank and Stein, and a third cat was just too unfair to all of them, so..I gave him to a no kill shelter and I hope he was adopted. I miss him every day and cry sometimes. Thanks Outside for distracting me from my anger for a few weeks. I miss you. But now I’m pissed again.

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