TheOtherSideOfThePancake

No Matter How Flat The Pancake, it Still has Two Sides

 by V. Martin 2018

    This is to my adopted extended family, Halls, Martins, and others, by marriage. After 35 years my adopted mother found me. She had adopted me when I was 12 and she was 39 and single. They, DES, didn't normally let single people adopt but mine wasn't a normal case. Having been in the system for over six years and as many foster homes because the last one kept me for almost 3 years. Anyway, my adopted mother soon after met her future husband and that was the end of the beginning for me.

      Don't get me wrong, I knew it for what it was and maybe that's why Phyllis, my adopted mom, and Frank, who never adopted me, believe it was my choice not be part of the "family" anymore. The same reason people want to kill the messenger when the message isn't what they want to hear. There was nothing I could do about the decisions being made about me. I was only 14-15 years old. 
I didn't go out of my way to behave badly, I never did anything but what normal teenagers do. My Mom was being pressured by her new husband, your father, so she started building a history to support disowning me. If my Mom and Frank were planning on keeping me, his three daughters and I would have been introduced to one another. As it was, never, not in the three years they were married before I was disowned did I meet his kids. 

    Phyllis built a history by admitting me to the psych ward at Phoenix Camelback Hospital. The first time was understandable, I got caught shop lifting and couldn't face telling my Mom, I was so embarrassed. Rather then face her I decide killing myself was a better option. Never did it occur to me to run away. Funny but seriously, the thought never even entered my mind. My attempt was half assed, obviously, it failed and I was admitted to the hospital. There I stayed for two months where they never put me on any medications or diagnosed me with any disorders. I was fourteen and still a virgin and drugs were something I thought you got at the drug store. I hadn't even gotten drunk or had a sip of alcohol.

So doing drugs and/or drinking was not even on my list of things to do. As a matter of fact it wasn't until the second time she admitted me that I started smoking cigarettes. 

    For the second time she admitted me because the girl across the street from her house and I got drunk for the first time together. To this day I haven't had as much fun or laughed as much or as hard as I did when Kristian and I got drunk off her Grandma's booze. We road our bicycles all over the place but then couldn't find our way home so I called my Mom, Phyllis. The lady who was the Mother of some girl, I think Kristian knew, had to tell Mom where we were and she came and got us. It was before ten pm, my curfew, so I thought I was in the clear, as far as being in trouble was concerned. Not the case. Right back to the hospital the very next day for another two months. This time they diagnosed me with being emotionally handicapped. This was at Phyllis's insistence, needing something on record to explain what she does next.

Instead of bringing me home this time she transfers me to a residential treatment facility in south Phoenix. There I remained for eleven months, where they didn't know what to do with me having never done drugs, never had sex, and only been drunk once. The other girls were all alcoholics, drug addicts and/or prostitutes so the program was designed around these problems. So they came up with a program just for me, part of which was going to public school. Something they had never done before. All the kids went to school on grounds which was close to being home schooled but with the whole neighborhood. This place was located in South Phoenix some of the worst neighborhoods in Phoenix and I had to leave before dawn to get to the bus on time. Fourteen years old at three to four in the morning walking the streets in South Phoenix to catch a bus to go to high school at North high. 

     Eventually, they discharged me and I went home, where by this time I wasn't welcome. My curfew on the weekend was 10pm and all my friends were allowed to stay out until midnight. Being the mature young lady that I thought I was I called a family meeting and pitched my cause. Explaining how unfair it was and that none of my friends want to come home 2 hours early. They just weren't hearing me, so I asked if we could get counseling? 
Phyllis picked me up after school telling me we were going to DES to get counseling. That was just a ruse to get me to go along willingly. Frank was to meet us there, she said, when I asked. When we got there she led me to a room with a window next to the door. As soon as I was in the room she turned around and without a word left me there. I watched as she disappeared around the corner, stunned, not sure what to think, do, or feel. So I went to my default setting, no feeling, no caring, no nothing. JustNumb. This is a very brief, detached account of what happened because most likely you won't believe me anyway so why invest anymore?

     Hopefully, this clarifies things a little bit more. Of course, this is my perspective, these are my memories of what happened. Since it did happen to me, my memories are probably more accurate then Frank's or Phyllis's. They have good reason for remembering things the way they do and I'm not saying they are wrong. But they are wrong letting anyone believe I chose to leave home because that is simply not true. I never ran away from home! What the fuck? Adopt me, get married, disown me, then move your new husband's daughter in to take my place. Years later look me up just so you can blame me for what you did? 

Not to mention the fact that the last place anyone, who's been in the foster care system, wants to go, is go back into the system!!!!! This is a fact, ask anyone.
    

What were they hoping I'd forget?
If they think Grandma doesn't know that they, my parents, lied to get them, my grandparents, to disown me they are wrong; She knows.

          

scientific notation; Together, love is forever.

Together, love is forever! Hearts squared equal eternity!!!!

By Vonia Martin

I wasn't the first to think of the equation love squared equals eternity but I am the first to put it in scientific notation. 

I've decided on a compromise; heart squared equals eternity.

              The evolution of the equation in scientific notation cr2017

Thank you V. Martin 2018

No one will give me credit for this however, because it interferes with their idea of who I'm suppose to be. I'm suppose to be stupid poor white trailer trash without an original idea in my head.  So keep your stupid equation, I'll just redefine mine. Heart cubed equals eternity because children are our only form of immortality.

Okay, maybe I'm a little bitter!

This has been an evolutionary process. One that I have given birth to, raised, allowed to grow, listened to, understood its greatness, didn't over think mine, and so came fouth its true meaning. Together, love is forever! Meaning if we would as awhole decide to love one another even if we don't understand each other, might be able to at least tolorate each other.  Differences are what makes a curious about what we don't know similarities are what makes those differences a conection instead of a disagreementcelebrated its individuality, 

B&L or Brad's Tire and Repair in Frederick

If you notice I had low profile tires before but now they are normal. I believe this was intentional so I wouldn't notice the space left by putting smaller rims in back.

The tires I had before Brad's/B&L or whatever their name is were P235/55R16 and P215/60R16, I believe but could be wrong but I know for a fact before I had them tow it while it was still running the rims and tire on the back were bigger because I switched them since the front one had a chunk missing from the rim and several cuts in the tire and the rear is lighter. I thought it would be safer since I was driving on it but the back one was visibly larger when switched with the front so put them back. Also if I had had these cheap faux rims that I have now thanks to Brad's or B&L when the car theives drove it into the building it would have fallen apart just like it's doing now though I've hit nothing. 

The biggest chunk missing is at the top and at an angle it looks more like a balancing weight but in the top pic you can see it better on the side.

These are the wheels I had before B&L Tire and repair

I also had larger tires in the back because it was an option at the time

After B&L I have cheap rims all the same size.

 Not only do I have different cheaper rims my engine, which was just rebuilt, leaks oil all over the place. Not to mention it doesn't handle the same.

                                      
To clarify; My 2001 Camaro was stolen, in police chase, then drove into a building. I finally got it back in 2015, drove it for about 3-4 months then it wouldn't start and it sat for almost a year. My Mom said she would help get it fixed so I called B&L here in Frederick to tow it to their garage, which they did. I needed it to start and I needed a new tire and rim since the one on the passenger side front was missing a chunk from the rim and there were several cuts in tire.  I had low profile tires which was an option for the V8 even though I have a V6 plus bigger rims and tires in the back.
I have pictures of the engine before B&L but I'm having trouble locating them but will add as soon as I do.

I'm just a little pissed off by all this. As if having the car stolen once wasn't bad enough, now I feel as though it's been stolen all over again.

I'm not some spoiled brat that has everything handed to me, I've had to work hard for the little bit I have. As you can see I've done most of the cosmetic work myself but the engine and tires and one wheel I trusted B&L/Brad's to take care of. My adopted Mother had just found me after 35 years and her first kind act was to pay them to rip me off. Shame on all of them!!!!!Shame on all you over there at B&L/Brad's, I should of been suspicious when they had two names for the same business.

Here are some pictures of the receipt she gave me. Keep in mind that my Mom paid and this was ready for me when I picked up my car. Also, the reason why it took me so long to realize what they had done is; one I trusted them to be a reputable business so I didn't think they would do something like this. Two; they hid it well by changing from low profile to regular tires so it went unnoticed until I had them rotate the tires.

This is exactly the way I received the receipt from Laura.

Who could read this? I can't and I believe that's the whole point.

Never did they offer me my old rim, even though I have no spare.

I believe they repaired it and sold all 4 as a set, worth over $3,000.

If anyone can read this, please, let me know what it says because all I can make out is"your fucked".

I will continue to look for more pictures and post them as I find them but seriously don't take your car to them before you take pictures of every inch to compare to when you get it back.

The first picture is after B&L the second is before B&L just the rims and tires is all I'm concerned with.

This is a picture after I tried to rotate the tires putting the chipped rim and cut tire in the back.