3. My mom said, "no" to my pediatrician, Dr. Milton, when he suggested that I'd be institutionalized. I am too young to remember this, but I do know that my mother*, armed with a doctorate in child psychology, refused to believe that this was any way to treat a severely autistic child. Instead of pretending that I didn't exist, she proactively did her best to help me thrive and succeed in the world beyond my anomalous perception
filters. She didn't do everything right, but she created a strong foundation for my success. The Vas that you know today would not be possible without her.


* My mom has two doctorates and a law degree, for those of you who might be wondering.

My brain has been a bit scambled this week. It's been a challenge to function. I didn't help to learn that my grandma hasn't been able to stand up after what may have been a seizure (no diagnosis yet.) I spoke to her today. She sounds so weak and she begged me to visit. I am unable to.

So, the show must go on.

Okay gang, because of modeling duties and in order to finally see my nephew, I am flying out to Vegas, and from Vegas to Portland, OR and/or Seattle in late July.  If you want to say hi, I know you, and you want to meet me there and/or halfway let me know here. :)

I spoke to our local Librarian (at the non-self-service library just outside of Rice)  about the stupifying situation I find myself in (that I cannot really go into detail because the case is pending.) She actually understood the hell I am enduring because she was an advocate for battered women and children.  It was so empowering to actually have someone who didn't just emphasize.  It was incredible to have some one actually get it from my angle, and endured it more than once.   It was even more incredible to have it be the person I least expected to find such solace from.  The Universe rocks!

With that said, there is something I can talk about.  The chemical abusing roommate we kicked out, sent my in-laws a copy of the unreleased limited edition Velvet Rasputin (kind of like Rasputin Catamite without the censor button) comic book in retaliation.  It probably would've been an amazing piece of evidence against her, but unfortunately my in-laws ripped it up in disgust before telling us about it.  D'oh.  According to my husband, his father believes that I have sullied the Wojtanowicz name in perpetuity and I have brought shame upon the family name... like I did in the now forgotten incident when my in-laws found out I modeled nude and made money exotic dancing, five years ago.  At first I was sad, but then it dawned on me, I've been here before.  I'm still exotic dancing. I'm making more at modeling than at the loathed print shop.  Frankly, they are pretty much over themselves on those topics.  *Grins* I suppose this saves me from having to explain my outrageous art to them.  Then again, the first few shocks are always the hardest.  

When I was thirteen, it was awful listening to my mom scream at me because I was making underground art in Junior High.  In 1999, she gave me a nasty lecture about degrading myself, when she bumped into my figure work at the art gallery.   Then, I started making money and minor fame for my art and modeling work.  My mom realized I wasn't a freak and her opinion of my work sort of mellowed over the years because.  She realized that I wasn't going to change who I was to gain her approval.  By  2004, mom read the first issue of Polska, Sucka! in front of me and actually told me that it was hilarious.  A few years later, she was bragging up my modeling and outsider art with her colleagues at art openings.  Last year, she was actually lobbying for an arts Co-op in Little Falls, so I could actually do more art model work closer to where she lived, thereby giving me an excuse to visit her more often.  Even my dad, who is more Born-Again Christian than Born-Again Christian still loves me and respects me in spite of my work, which he chooses not to look at.  It took my poor parents nearly thirty years to get used to my responsible shenannigans, and the Colon-Ortiz family names still stands proud.  Loki's parents just need some time to get over themselves and used to the person I am.  I love them very much, even if I give them heart attacks every once in a while.

I send kisses and hugs from Vanesa Barbara Littlecrow Colon-Ortiz y Wojtanowicz, (told you my name was too freaking long for my Social Security Card.) The proud daughter, artist, model, food connoseiur, anti-chemical-abuse activist, person of confusing sexual identity, helper of people (even those who suck,) atheist who thinks that Catholicism is the bees-knees for the most part and all around awesome person.  People might try to bring me and my family down, but people, I am here to fly to the stars.  Success is inevitable.  Abundance is all around me.  Humanity will trump the suckas.

GO ME!!!

WOW!!!

Our pleasant lunch in Minneapolis with a college friend of ours was interrupted by a phone call to Loki's cell phone.  Apparently, Samantha actually told the Sheriff's Deputy Office that Luke was "holding her mail for ransom" in exchange of "books she did not have."  Naturally, I called back the Deputy's Office when I got wind of that because I was the one that asked Loki to call Samantha.  I explained the situation (rather agitated) and asked the Deputy what we could do about this crazy bitch.  He told us to call Samantha back, explain to her that we needed Loki's books back, that we needed her to pick up her personal belongings within two weeks or go to small claims court to compensate us for the cost of storage, disposal and library fines.  He also asked that we forward her mail regardless of the books' status.  He also suggested that we file an order of protection against her on Monday at the County Court, in addition to reporting the books as stolen at the library.  So, I called Samantha's mom up and left a message on the machine letting her know that the first part Deputy's Office suggestion and that her mail would be forwarded.  I also asked that call me with any questions.

After I was done modeling at MCAD, my husband told me that Samantha had called him up telling him that she was not going to pick up the things we gave Little Blond.  The request was flawed considering how many of the gifts to LB she did take, and that more than half the stuff left behind belonged to her.  She followed up by making harassing comments to Loki.  He reacted by hanging up on her.  She tried calling back.  He did not answer.

So tonight, I get to go through my back log of schedules, blogs, diary entries and phone incident and records on the cell phone she left behind.  I want the judge to know exactly why we want no more contact with this psycho with as many specific dates, incidents and witnesses as possible.  I will do my best to keep things like personal issues out of the report, but I do want to record specific behaviors like her substance abuse, her talk of gangs and her "forgetting" to tell us about things like paroles, or suspended drivers licenses.

This shit needs to end ASAP!

My aunt Bea and uncle Garibaldi are so romantic, their love made the news. I melt into a pile of love.

Centuries ago, my seafaring ancestor, Cristoforo Colombo, tricked a bunch of gullible Jamaicans into keeping him and his Spaniard crew fed with the help of superstition and an eclipse. Although my Taino side finds such trickery appalling, the Latin side finds it to be rather awesome that someone in my bloodline could pull of such an awesomely devious feat of sleight. Regardless of cultural schizophrenia, my family celebrated the Colón way. Hot food and storytelling provide a great way to pass time under the glare of a blood red moon peering at us through the frigid air. The special guest appearances of Saturn and Regulus, as seen through a telescope, were a kid-pleasing bonus. Speaking of little ones, one of Loki's best friends became a father today.

Just wanted to share.

I just don't get it.  I don't understand why Little Blond's Gram(ma) always finds it necessary to undermine the work Loki, Bio-mom and I put into getting the child to function and live a normal life.  Bio-mom and Little One went to Grams for President's Day.  It was just one day.  Bio-mom had some sort an emo-moment the day before, so she needed to spend some time away.  That was fine, but her relaxing vacation from us backfired.

Bio-mom called Loki to tell him that she wasn't going home for the time being, and that "it didn't matter" that LB had to go to school the next day.  He called me with the message while I was modeling. I told him to call her back and tell her that there was no way in hell that LB was missing school without a good reason.   I was picking the kid up.  Interestingly enough, when I picked them up, Bio-mom could not wait to go home with us.  Bio-mom arrived home sobbing because her mother told her that she was screwing up Little Blond's life by staying with "those" people.  As if that weren't enough, Gram told Bio-mom that her ideas about getting her GED and attending college were "pointless."  Never mind, that Little Blond's therapist, teacher, principal, and almost everyone we know outside of the ghetto disagrees with her.  It's really infuriating because we actually felt like Gram was on our side.  We talked Bio-mom out of her mental dispair.

The next morning (today) revealed the extent of the damage done by this woman.  Little Blond has been really good about taking showers on her own, behaving herself and taking care of her morning routine.  I woke up to her screaming, "Get out of my room," at Loki because she didn't want to take a shower or go to school.  I told her that her Kid's Club privileges had been revoked until third grade, unless she demonstrated marked improvement in every aspect of her behavior, in and out of school.  I told her they would be if she ever woke me up in that manner again, and she did.  Before going to school, I informed LB that she needed to finish her in-room class assignments because she was falling behind her work, and that she would be going to summer semester so she'd be able to catch up with her peers in terms of academic progress.  "I'm not going to summer school," she shrieked, "I'm spending the summer with Gram.  She's taking me to Colorado with Trav."

I kept on making a brown bag lunch for my promo work today, as I spoke to her.  "Your mom and I already agreed to this with Mrs. ---------- at the parent-teacher conference.  There is no discussion."

"But Gram said..."

"As far as I know, your grandmother did not discuss this with me.  It is really important that you do well academically."

"Gram always lets me have my way!"

I sighed in frustration, "Gram is too overwhelmed at life to fight with you.  You can take advantage of Gram, but you cannot do it to me.  I refuse to see you fail."  As I prepared to head on out with LB, I couldn't help but remember what Gino told me on this blog about weak parents.  For her sake, I couldn't be one.

I dropped off LB at school, shortly after Kid's Club was over.  I told her to eat breakfast right away.  She wanted to dawdle and bring toys to "Sharing Time".  I told her it was up to her.   At the classroom her teacher, reminded her that toys were not allowed during "Sharing Time" because second graders are too old for that.  LB pouted and stomped off.  Her teacher wanted to talk to me, "Thank you.  I cannot believe what a good friend you are to ---------.  When I saw (Bio-mom,) I was so terrified.  That woman is too ill function. I don't even know how she had the strength to make it to conference."

"She loves her daughter."

"She wouldn't be able to take care of that poor little girl by herself." 

"I know.  Just wait until you read (LB's) essay in her writing journal about being nice to someone..  Her grammar and her narrative are excellent.  I told her that I was impressed with her writing and that it was very touching.  But, I went away to work, I just couldn't stop crying when I left the house.  It's about how she's nice to mom during her illness."

"That poor woman and her little girl.  You and your husband deserve so much praise for what you are doing.  I couldn't thank you enough."

Uncomfortably I told her, "--- is working on getting herself better.  My mother, and my family have done things like that.  It's something my family does.  It's no big deal."

"It is a big deal.  That little girl and her mother needs you."

"That's why it isn't.  It's just something we do."

"I really appreciate what you are doing."  Children crowded around the emotional teacher, confused as to what was happening.

" I appreciate your praise, but I just wish the rest of her family were as supportive..."

We said our goodbyes and I walked away.  LB glared at me. I asked her what was wrong.  "I missed breakfast."  Some people only learn the hard way.  I really hope that the little one is not one of them.  The morning made me feel broken. So, here I am in front of the keyboard, as I look at the time and realize that I am almost  late for work.

After a nice conversation with Ashbet, I received an email from Stormbringer.  It sounds like he might have found a new credit card processor for the sites that he hosts.  He had already let us know that the processor we lost might be going to court against the credit card companies, and it sounds like the case has merit.  This would be a huge blessing if things work out.  It's a long shot, but I can hope.  The idea of the extreme art site being released into the wild was making me sick to my stomach.  I was pretty much resigned to doing so and placing a disclaimer explaining this messed up situation.  If I understood correctly, this might be a really positive turn.  I honestly don't care if it isn't the best processor, or its some skeezy outfit from Russia.  I just want the option to keep my work away from kids and accessible to adults, in accordance to American laws.  On related news, a mini comic containing a art from Rasputin Barxotka/Catamite will be available along with a bunch of other mini comics in  the Lutefisk Sushi C bento box.  A part of the proceeds from the bento box sales benefits Altered Esthetics, a wonderful non-profit arts organization.

Bio-mom health remains delicate, but it is improving.  She is also determined to go to college to get her ASE certification and become a mechanic, this fall.  I am crossing my fingers.  Little Blond's difficulty coping with all of the stress over her mom's health has been affecting her school performance.  Thankfully, she has a very compassionate teacher who sees the bright little girl behind the unfinished classroom assignments, and the occasional tantrums.  She lent her a math and reading learning machine, and gave a stack of math exercises for Little Blond to work on during the teacher conference weekend.  I am so proud that the munchkin is being such a trooper about working on her worksheets and playing with the machine.  I am doubly thrilled that her teacher recommended a wonderful summer school enrichment program that's free of cost for Little Blond.  She is a very lucky girl to be in such an excellent school.  I am sad that I do not have the time to homeschool the child, or the funds to send her to private school.  However, it makes me happy that I took her out of a substandard ghetto school and into a rare public school that empathizes the arts, civilized behavior and academic achievement.  I appreciate any school that cuts 2-mile radius or less bus rides, raises fees for athletic activities, and constant watering of lawns, before ditching their yearly artist-in-residence program  or their commitment to excellence.  Not bad for a rural area, eh?

Anyway... off to modeling in Minneapolis.

Misty O. and I are at the mall hunting down some new outfits that she needs for work. I am sitting on a big comfy chair while she tries stuff on. It's colder than the 9th Circle of Hell in global warming ravaged Minnesota. I think that zero degrees was the high today. I'm totally craving a Subway Veggie Delite salad! Sixty calories of yum! Alas, that isn't happening until after we visit the shoe store.

Not much happened this week aside from work, minor household drama, me procrastinating on filing sales taxes, and organizing bunches of stuff. I really cherish uneventful weeks, especially when the kid behaves. All is well and frozen in Vas's world.