HaCkeD by MuhmadEmad
KurDish HaCk3rS WaS Here
FUCK ISIS !
I’m may risk offending some of my readers right now, because I’m about to get a little political.
I live in Arizona, a hot desert of a state that borders Mexico. There has been a lot of hysteria in the media lately about illegal immigrants making their way across the border and making a living (barely) doing day labor jobs in the United States. They pick fruit; they clean toilets; they landscape yards and paint houses for a few dollars a day so that they can save money and help their family have a better life. They are a humble and community oriented people. They are also very religious and heartfelt people.
I have never seen a homeless Mexican begging for money on the street. Not once. Not ever. The Mexican people work, and work hard. I think that a lot of people are afraid of the illegal aliens in our country because most illegals don’t speak English and we can’t figure out what they seem to be so happy about. I think it’s a fear born out of ignorance. Sorry.
Now, I know the other side of the argument, that there are drug dealers and gang members. There are a lot of American drug dealers and gang members too. The few “illegals” that are depicted in the 10:00 evening news are not an accurate sample of the migrant workers who want to stay below the radar and just pick our fruit for us.
I know my readers are wondering why I am taking the time to say all of this.
It is because everyday I walk my dogs and see a group of non-English speaking landscapers when I pass through the park. Each day I wave to them, and each day they smile broad smiles and wave back at me.
This morning one of them approached me. In Spanish, he told me his name is Antonio. Antonio is probably in his forties. He had on a t-shirt with the landscaping company’s logo on it, but other than that his clothing was very tattered. A few of his teeth were missing but he smiled widely at me and tried to communicate with me. Between the small bit of English he knew and the even smaller bit of Spanish I knew, Antonio managed to tell me that he has seen me walk my dogs every day. He noticed recently that I lost my hair and must be sick. He told me he loved me and that he and the other landscapers pray for me every day.
Then, Antonio squeezed my hand and went back to work.
This kindness, I will never forget.
Chemotherapy drugs are very powerful. They do things to my mind that I’ve never experienced before. Like hallucinating.
I take that back. Once when I was 22 I was driving home at 3:30 am from my job as a bartender. It had been the busiest weekend of the year for bars and restaurants (Thanksgiving Weekend) and I had worked three double shifts in a row. I hadn’t slept more than 4 hours per night the last three nights. I was exhausted.
Anyway, while driving home I kept hallucinating out of the corner of my left eye that Ghandi was running along side my truck. His white robes were flowing behind him and he was barefoot. As I cruised along at 45 mph, the only thing that I could think was, “Damn! Ghandi can run!” I shook my head and looked over and he was gone. It then dawned on me that Ghandi was not a faster-than-a-speeding-bullet-superhero guiding me home. In fact, he was quite dead. And, for those skeptics out there: No I was not drinking and I’ve never done drugs. It just so happens that when I’m extremely tired, my mind hallucinates great historic figures of peace with super-human abilities.
That is until I started chemo. With chemo I feel like I’m taking a trip in one of Hunter S. Thompson’s novels. Sometimes I’ll think I’m seeing bugs crawling in my peripheral vision. Sometimes I’ll see some sort of movement from an object that hasn’t moved. It’s so strange.
It has really effected my memory, as well. I just finished the book “High Fidelity” by Nick Hornby and I honestly can’t tell you anything about it. I know that it’s about a guy who owns a record store in London, but I’ve completely forgotten the main plot and characters. This is dreadful.
I just hope that these mind tricks subside once I’m done with chemo.
Do you know who that is?
Why, yes I do! Me!
Yes, I know “best” is a relative term, but if you think you are the best mortgage broker in Arizona, you’ll have to tell this poor girl recovering from cancer. Just send me an email I guess. I can take it.
My parents are buying their first home in over 25 years! Since they are a little out of practice I am going to use my mortgage lending expertise and my Real Estate training (dealing with purchase contracts) so that I can shamelessly promote myself in my blog. And, make sure that they are getting the best possible deal on their mortgage (naturally).
Michael and I own a branch of Arizona Wholesale Mortgage. We have been with AZ Wholesale Mortgage since about 2002. We are a very reputable company–we never bait and switch our clients–and we donate $200 to Breast Cancer Charities for every loan we close. We are also proud members of The Better Business Bureau with a clean history of zero complaints. If you are planning on buying or refinancing a home in AZ, be it through FHA, VA or conventional, please contact me for a quote!
Michael and I joined my mom and dad in looking at the property. Sure enough, it was located about six miles from my home in a gated community on a golf course. There is a three story club house with a restaurant, bar, ball room, library, billiards room and more. There are several heated pools throughout the complex as well. It even has it’s own post office.
The home itself is modest, but very cozy. The seller, Marilyn, is moving to Florida and she was leaving the house furnished, so my parents won’t have to spend too much money to move in. The master bedroom has a walk in closet and there are plantation shutters in the windows. It even has a screened in patio in back.
Personally, I fell right in love with the place. Michael did, too. It has very high ceilings that make the home seem larger and more grand than it really is. I know that my parents will make improvements but I can already envision them living here. I can tell my mother is thinking the same thing.
My mom just looked around the place as if she were thinking how perfect it is. It’s small enough for her to maintain and it’s also close enough to my house so that she can zip over to see me any time she wants. Or, I can zip over to see her for that matter.
Oh, yeah. I can tell she wants it.
Marilyn, the seller, was there as we were viewing the home. She said that she had an investor from California who was interested in buying the home, but she indicated that she would rather sell it to us.
This evening, my parents made an offer and it was accepted. The close of escrow is in one month!