Dearly Beloved, this is a GoFundMe crowdfunding medical emergency post. I really need your help!
We are gathered here today to help a woman, me (Kimberly), who has given her entire life to others. I have given and given and given, and finally I followed my dream and moved to Italy. Something terrible happened (as is the case with most things, it was a blessing in disguise), and now needs your help through Kimberly’s Italian Exodus GoFundMe campaign to bring me back home to get the treatment I need to heal properly.
This is a long post, but hope to make it somewhat entertaining to read so as not to bore you.
Background: Who is Kimberly?
I could write a series of posts on this question, because I, like most people, am a complex being continuing on the path of life and trying to understand things. Psychological things. I love psychology!
I think the best way to get a glimpse of me is to investigate this blog. I know it’s short, but there are a few nuggets in here.
- Caked on Makeup’s About Page
- Check out my little avatar at the bottom of this post titled About The Author
- Why I believe the Caked on Makeup Metaphor is spot on. And, just to update on that post my daughter did not recognize Mother’s Day nor my birthday again this year. At least my son sent me a Snap on Mother’s Day. I guess he doesn’t know when my birthday is.??
- Check out my first video where it’s easy to see how I was starting to feel about living in Italy last summer.
I have been playing with the Snap Chatter and DISCOVERED video, oh my! Here are a couple of my favorites – they show that I like humor.
Funny Snap Chat Videos Starring Yours Truly
The Invisibility Cloak: ThisIs50
The Invisibility Cloak is the middle aged woman’s Cloak that is awarded to her that makes what she says, thinks, feels, not matter to anyone anymore, rendering her completely invisible. It’s her right of passage into the ThisIs50 tribe. She starts getting a taste of the Invisibility Cloak at around the age of 45, but she is fully sheathed in it just after her 50th birthday.
It is designed to strip her of any self-worth and to create anger in her because she knows full well that her life is only just beginning, but American society says it is ending.
This is a travesty. It is sad. And, it’s just plain wrong!
Losing Hope & Fairytale Land
This happened to me, and when that cloak was completely covering me I had lost ALL HOPE for my future. For a while I thought what was the point to continuing with this life? I had no job, no chance at a fulfilling career without going back to school (thus increasing my $130K student loan debt) – with no guarantee I would get a job at the end.
I wracked my brain to figure out what I would good at, what I liked, what I could see myself doing to earn an income. I came up with a big fat black hole. Over the previous 50 years I had done too much for everyone else and lost myself in the process. I didn’t even know what I liked to do for fun!
And then, I met a man from near Rome, Italy while he was on vacation in Jacksonville four years ago. He was a good distraction from my lost hope for a while. We had a great spring together, and when he left to return to Italy that June we decided it would be good if I moved there.
Does Stuff Ditching = Liberation?
I embarked on a one week whirlwind of ditching all my stuff that July. It looked like this:
- Sell what I can (furniture, kitchen stuff, bedroom stuff, car). Yes. The car – BIG MISTAKE!
- Donate to Goodwill what I couldn’t sell – which was a lot!
- Throw away what I couldn’t donate – which filled 4 large apartment dumpsters – which I filled all in one night!
- Move out of my apartment
- Hop on a one-way Delta flight with 2 Suitcases and a Dog – HRH, The Roman Dog
Just in case you’re wondering how doing what I did feels, let me try to be succinct here. Immediately afterwards I felt liberated to have gotten rid of all that stuff (until one of my friends pointed out that I am now homeless). Then a month or two later I was anguished when I realized my entire life was only worth $4,000 (the amount I got from selling ALL OF MY BELONGINGS), which came about when I started running out of money in Italy – because, let’s face it, $4,000 is not very much money.
That being said, the fairytale began on July 20, 2014. Think castles, exotic language, friendly people, fantastic food, and field trips galore. It was truly soul-soothing! Even today, four years later, I feel like I’m living in fairytale land when I see the castle, which, if I leave the house, is everyday.
What I didn’t know, though, was I had to leave 90 days later for 90 days. Where was I going to leave to? How was I going to get around?
Lawsuits & New Chances
I returned to Jacksonville and stayed with one of my friends, just in time for my ex-husband to sue me to stop paying the alimony. He wanted to get married. This was nine months of absolute HELL.
I was tormented. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but the language in the lawsuit painted me out to being a whore with a bunch of sugar daddies and a thriving business, and therefore, I don’t need any money.
He had stopped paying the alimony all-together. Which meant I had no money, like zero, to pay an attorney. One of my friends got one of his friends to represent me for $750 a month. For nine months! This guy did nothing but take my money that I wasn’t getting anymore.
My ex-husband owed me over $320,000 and all I received was $50,000. Plus they took the life insurance away.
I was screwed. My new full time job might be to find a new husband with some dough. I didn’t want to have to prostitute myself.
This was 21 months ago.
Where'd the Money Go?
I paid, with that $50,000, a couple years of back income taxes. You have to pay taxes on alimony received. How? Every single last dime I had went into rent, utilities, and if I was lucky food. How on earth could I also pay the taxes?
The logic was that I had a degree in Business and I ought to be able to go to work and get a job paying $60,000+ even though I haven’t worked in eight years at that point.
Even though was I pushing 50 years old.
Even though I was a woman who had the Invisibility Cloak thrown over her.
It’s an outrage how women are treated!
So, I got on an airplane and went back to Italy. It’s much easier to live with no money there than in the United States.
I spent probably another $15,000 on moving, buying a car in Italy, and trying to start another business. A travel business. Again. But to do it legally in Italy is cost prohibitive. I describe this in RIP Italian Love Affair.
My 90 days was up again, so I went to stay with my parents in Tennessee. I left HRH in Italy. I wasn’t sure I wanted to return to Italy.
The OFP, A Shiny New Visa, & Hail Mary Passes
An Orange-Faced Pig = A Visa for Me
On Election night 2016, I put a deposit on viaLingua – a school that certifies teachers to Teach English as a Foreign Language – in Florence. I did this as soon as the OFP’s numbers were equal to Clinton’s.
The school sent me the paperwork for a 6-month visa, which I applied for, and got, and with this shiny new visa I thought the world opened up to me.
I left for Italy on December 28, 2016. I didn’t even want to be in the country during OFP’s inauguration! I wanted to get on with my life without all the drama, the division of the American people. It’s sad what has become of the American political system and the American media machine, and what they’ve done to the American people.
I was tired of sadness and lost hope.
My Hail Mary Pass
While I was in my TEFL class I remember telling my roommate that this class was my hail mary pass. I had no choice but to make this work. The class was not easy. I’m a big picture thinker, and like an employer, the school only let you have the little picture. Your picture. It was illogical. But, I got through it. I got my certification.
Now I needed work.
I was excited to embark on this journey. This was my chance at making money. Every Italian alive wants to be American, so teaching them English should have been an easy enough thing to do.
Unless you live in Bracciano.
In the year and a half since I’ve had my certification I have not had one lesson. Not one. These people in this town do not want to pay for anything. It’s like Jacksonville all over again. They complain how they have no money, but every single night you see them in the bars. Just like Jacksonville.
I was totally disillusioned. And heartbroken. I have done so much, and have spent so much money, and fought to be in Italy the right way. This, needless to say, did nothing to help my feelings of invisibleness. And of thinking, “what is the point“?
Utter Discomfort, Hot as Hell, & Mamma
My return flight was scheduled for September 26th and it was only June.
I was not making money, only spending it.
I was sleeping on a couch that was only 15 inches from the floor. Of course, when you sit in it you sink. There is wood between each seat cushion. I slept on it for 10 months.
There is nothing in this house that is ergonomic. In fact, by American standards, I would say that this furniture is more or less lodge furniture for elementary school kids. When I stand up, getting out of that couch my legs hurt. I have very long legs, maybe even abnormally long legs.
When I take a shower, the hot water totally disappears for up to two minutes at least twice. This really annoyed me.
Not being able to cook is a real downer too. In the 18 months I have been here I’ve only cooked twice, maybe three times.
They cut their meat differently here. Let me rephrase, they hack the meat into bits, not into cuts, so you end up with bone slivers all throughout.
I now weigh about 15 pounds more now than I did when I arrived (mostly in my boobs) – I am NOT a pasta eating machine.
Hotter than HELL
It was HOT AS HELL last summer, starting in May until about November. Not a drop of rain the entire time I was here until this winter (over a year). There is no air conditioning. There are no screens. The windows are only on one side – the west facing side. There is a wood burning pizzeria on the first floor of this building.
Let’s just say it SUCKED.
People starting getting mean. One man ran over my foot because ALL ITALIANS THINK THEY’RE MARIO ANDRETTI while on wheels. Of. Any. Kind. I banged on the car window. He zoomed around the corner, got out of the car, ran up to me and shoved me.
I bought pepper spray.
Mamma della casa took a couple falls when I returned to the US in the fall of 2016. The last fall she took she broke her hip. So, we were staying with her because she needed a live in nurse. Mamma was 83 years old at the time. Her birthday is on July 4th. Her routine is this:
- Wake up at 8:30, make a mess in the bathroom, make her coffee, and sit in the kitchen watching TV on the loudest volume possible.
- Lunch at 1:00 ON. THE. DOT.
- Siesta at 2:00 ON. THE. DOT.
- Wake up from siesta around 3:00, have another coffee, and sit in the kitchen watching TV on the loudest volume possible.
- Dinner at 8:00 ON. THE. DOT.
- Go to bed and watch TV on the loudest volume possible until MIDNIGHT. On. The. Dot.
Now What? How do We (I) Fix this Mess?
The Cursed Trifecta: La Commercialista, Questura & Prefettura = Un Grande Purgatory
In order to remain legal in Italy, I had entered into a working contract and paid taxes every month of close to €400. I did this because the commercialista (remember, I mentioned the commercialista in a few other posts regarding Italian Love Affair Travel & Tours?) said if I did this my visa would be extended and turned into a type of visa that allowed me to work in Italy. It would be good for 2 years.
So for three months I did this. We also went to the post office and filled out the paperwork for the questura, got an appointment, went to the appointment at which time was after my visa expired and was given a piece of paper saying I can come and go as if I have the visa and permesso di soggiorno.
When I went to the second appointment for the fingerprinting I was told that I have to go to the Prefettura in Rome because that’s where the process begins. The next day we went there, but was told it was too late. My visa had expired. The commercialista gave us bad advice. I was supposed to go to the prefettura first. It was so simple. I am American. I should have been a shoe in.
We left the prefettura to drive the hour and a half north to the Questura in Civitavecchia to be told I am in limbo. In other words, we missed the deadline with the prefettura, but since my application was dated before my visa expired the Questura won’t say no. But they won’t extend my visa either. It’s in limbo.
I decided after all of this in one day that I needed a glass or five of wine.
And not in Bracciano. I wanted out of the town of purgatory. Pronto.
The date: October 27. It was my last legal couple of days in Italy.
A Glass of Wine or Three
We returned to Bracciano for HRH and a little suitcase filled with overnight stuff and headed northeast to Montefalco. I loved it there. The people are so friendly, the wine is exceptional, we were making excellent contacts there. Plus, we were invited to a 10-year party for a restaurant.
We showed up and viewed a couple apartments that I really wanted to rent. Imagine Hugh Hefner, but an Italian version. That’s who the owner of those two apartments were. He was funny. The apartments were nice.
We checked into our B & B, then went for a glass of Prosseco. It had been a mentally draining day. Then we drove the 2.5 hours to Montefalco. In total we drove, 6 hours that day. We liked going there though. In fact, we were just there the week before for a photo shoot for my Bellissima Journeys that I was starting.
Everything was good. We went to the party, imbibed in a lot of wine, talked with the Italian Hugh Hefner and his 90 year old friend. All while HRH was in my lap. She’s a trooper!
Finally, I declared I must eat. Even though we were in a restaurant it was impossible to order something to eat. The restaurant half was full. It was 11:00 pm. Nothing was open. We were in a B&B – there was no kitchen we could use. There was no open grocery store we could go to. All we did was drank wine, no water, and we ate nothing.
I was determined to find something to eat. I finally found a restaurant that was closing but could give me a big to go box of steamed spinach. Better than nothing.
But, it was too late.
This part is very hard for me to bring back up. I have fought hard to repress this memory.
I made a Facebook Live video right after I arrived at the hospital. Be warned: I used a lot of adult language – totally not a normal thing for me to do.
He was jealous of the Italian Hugh Hefner. He was angry that Hugh gave me lots of attention that night. In my opinion he was wooing me to rent both of his apartments. That’s not what he saw. He also said to me that it would be impossible to find something to eat at that time. He is a chef and would know.
Never underestimate a woman who wants to eat that badly! When I came out with the food I think he was shocked, but we went to the B & B and I sat down at the desk and proceeded to eat said spinach with my fingers. There was no plasticware. I needed to eat.
I have no memory of what happened next. I only have flashes of memory. Very disturbing flashes. All I know is I was on the floor and I remember seeing a fist coming at my face. The impact itself didn’t hurt. It stung, but didn’t hurt. As I rubbed my tongue along my teeth I realized something terrible happened. My teeth were moved, and one of my front teeth broken in half on a diagonal. There was blood everywhere.
I screamed bloody murder to get him away from me. I kept screaming as loud as I could, “GET AWAY FROM ME!”. I was thrown out of the B & B with 3 of my broken teeth and blood on their floor.
I started panicking.
I needed help, but didn’t speak Italian. I needed help, but wasn’t a man. I had visions of Amanda Knox running through my head. All while carrying HRH. I left the B & B without anything except HRH. It was cold. I had no sweater. This is October 27th. As I was walking the streets I saw my photographer from my photo shoot the previous week. I was trying to call the police, but they couldn’t understand me. I handed my phone to him and asked him to tell them where I am, but he disconnected the call. He was standing with him.
I took my phone back and continued walking out of the town, through the gate, and to a bank. I called the poliziotti again. All I could say was aiutami, aiutami, AIUTAMI!!!! They asked me where I was, and I replied Montefalco. They couldn’t understand me. I said it a dozen more times, still with no understanding. Finally, I named the bank and they understood. They arrived while I was still on the phone with them.
They escorted me to the police station, but all of a sudden I had more visions of Amanda Knox. I KNEW that being an American AND being cursed by being a woman they were going to throw me in some dungeon somewhere. I saw all the men huddling together making plans, while the women were left to their own vices.
I refused to go in to my doom. I was terrified. I was carrying HRH like a little baby. That poor dog had to have been terrorized that night. I poliziotti told me this is not America, nothing will happen to me, but something happened to Amanda Knox. What happened to her WAS NOT going to happen to me.
By this time he was in the doorway to the police station. When I saw him I completely freaked out at all sight of men. The police chief has white hair, like he does. I ran away, but there was nowhere to run. Finally, the police chief asked me if I would talk to his wife. Fine.
She came out of their apartment, which must have been right above the police station, and she asked me if I would go to the sink to wash my face. I said NOT in the police station. There was a sink in the parking garage. How odd. We went there, which, unfortunately had a mirror. I completely lost all semblance of self control when I saw the way I looked.
I was still spitting out blood. And a lot of it. My mouth was swollen. My teeth were broken. I was UGLY. The next thing I knew there was an ambulance. But I was still panicking and in utter disbelief. I was 51 years old with a punch to my face that would change my life.
As I was climbing into that ambulance, with HRH in my arms, I felt a pop, like cracking your knuckles, in my left ankle. They made me give HRH to someone. My photographer and his girlfriend were there. They must have understood what happened at this point. I handed her over to them. I did NOT want him to have her. I never wanted to see him ever again!
The Emergency Room in Italy
Let me give you a crash course on the Italian health care system.
The ambulance takes me to a hospital that is God only knows where. To doctors who don’t speak any English other than “Why you cry”?
They start sticking needles in you and you don’t know why. You still cry.
They put a diaper on you and you still cry.
You ask for water so you can spit out the blood that is still pooling in your mouth.
And you still cry.
They say some stuff to you in Italian.
And you still cry.
They put you on a gurney and put you in a corner.
And you still cry.
You have no idea what they’re going to do.
And you still cry.
You have to go to the bathroom, and you try to get up off that stupid gurney and something hurts in your ankle. The nurse says something like use your diaper, except you have to faccio una caca “make a deposit”. The nurse rolls her eyes.
And you still cry.
You repeat the above a couple more times before
You cry no more.
What on Earth Happened to My Ankle?
With each time I had to get up to go to the bathroom my foot hurt more and more. In fact, my entire ankle was purple – almost black.
Finally, at some time that I have no idea (in the morning around 7:00 or 8:00) someone came to take me to an x ray. They X-rayed my face, they did one of those panoramic X Rays of my teeth (I cried again), they did an MRI on my head, and they did some XRays on my left foot. And finally, they did an ultrasound on my gut. I finally was able to ask the doctor why. They were looking for blood pooling there. The last doctor was the psychiatrist who wanted to know something, but I couldn’t really understand her and by that point I was pretty traumatized and didn’t want to talk to anyone anyway.
I really just wanted to curl up in a ball and die.
And then they took more blood. They say nothing. They just stick a needle in your arm.
At this point I just felt numb. What else are they going to do to me without telling me first?
I was sent somewhere in that hospital that is God knows where and the doctor looked like he was 20 years old playing on his iPhone. They put my left leg on a triangular thing and started wrapping it. I finally realized they were putting a cast on me.
He arrived and was able to tell me what the doctor was doing. I broke my left ankle. I have no idea how. The cast must’ve weighed 10 pounds or more. It was tight. My toes were blue.
My only question was, “Can I fly? I want to go home, to the United States.” The doctor said absolutely not.
Now I was a prisoner to Italy.
I allowed him to come to me because how else was I to return home, a 3-hour drive from God only knows where? I sat in the backseat so my leg could be elevated, but we had to return to the police station.
I refused to get out of the car.
I was in shock.
The police captain asked me if I wanted to press charges. I said no. I need to go home. I just want to return to the United States. I want to see my family and my friends. I want to hear English again. I want to be able to go to a doctor and not have someone stick a needle in me without telling me what they’re doing, and I don’t want to go to the hospital to have someone tell me to go to the bathroom in a diaper.
I just want to go home.
After speaking with the police captain, home we went. It was the second most painful journey I’ve had to endure. Every bump and curve hurt. I felt sick by whatever they gave me to stop the crying in the ER. I hadn’t eaten nor drank any water.
Mentally, I felt numb. I didn’t know what happened or why it happened. My trust had vanished. My Italian Love Affair was over.
Dental Woes: Fractured Right Maxilla
I went to the dentist the first day I could to find out that my remaining front tooth was fractured, in addition to the three broken teeth I had. In order to learn what the real damage was I had to go into Rome for a 3D head scan.
This scan showed my right maxilla was fractured between my nose and roof of my mouth. It killed three of my teeth. Something had to be done to fix this.
It turns out that that something was one of two options:
- I could have some horrifically painful, expensive surgery or
- I could have braces put on, which I’m not real sure how they fix the problem
Since I have almost no tolerance for pain anymore I elected for the braces. I’ve had those braces on since the beginning of November – six full months now. My teeth still feel the same. That fracture is a little less painful, but it’s still very tender. My teeth still hurt. I’m convinced two of them are completely dead now since I can’t feel anything at all when I floss there.
I don’t have any more money to give to the dentist, so my last visit was at the end of February.
Getting Back to Work in IT: Yeah, No!
Since I couldn’t move around at all – it took about a week just to get crutches – I sat in the bed all day long. Well, while I was awake. I couldn’t stay awake for the first couple of weeks.
Once I could stay awake I started working on a website for Bellissima Journeys – another travel agency I was going to start while working through the Make More Money Selling Travel Blueprint.
During this time just sitting there in bed all day long with HRH refusing to leave my lap, it had finally occurred to me that I like to travel a whole lot more than I like to sell travel.
So I did what any sane person who’s trying to recover themselves would do: I contacted Code Platoon about starting the next coding bootcamp cohort, with the caveat that it would be impossible for me to be there in person. It worked out well for them because they were trying out a new distance learning program. It mostly worked out well for me.
I did have to stay up until 1:30 in the morning because the class was held in Chicago. I had fun, but something interesting happened in February/March. I was to go to Chicago to finish the cohort there and participate in their apprenticeship program.
The moment the flight was booked I wanted to vomit. I didn’t know why at the time, but now I do. It was my intuition telling me that was a tremendously bad idea.
The problems with finishing the cohort in Chicago:
- I’ve never liked working in IT – why would I think it would be different just because I’m almost 52 years old now?
- I don’t know anybody in Chicago.
- I don’t have anywhere to sleep, nor do I have any furniture, towels, pots/pans/silverware, etc.
- It’s really expensive to live there.
- I don’t have a car.
- I’m a woman (maybe that’s a plus in IT) who’s over 50 years old (a definite negative).
Unearthing Kimberly: What Did I Discover?
In March I started to ask some questions about who I am. Remember I stated above that I didn’t even know what I like to do for fun? Travel was the only thing that came to mind. I needed to know more about me so I would stop wasting all this time and money on building travel agencies and getting back into IT.
The first thing I did that began to give me insight was I took the StrengthsFinder 2.0 test.
Adjectives to describe me, according to my themes:
- what could be?
- experiential for others
- cultural bridge builder
- strong faith
Career fields or things to do, according to my top 5 Themes:
- A role with global or cross-cultural responsibilities
Yes, I know that some are listed more than once. I went through the descriptions of each theme and wrote down what the adjectives and career roles were.
I found this to be highly interesting, because as soon as I started to work in IT when I graduated from college I knew it was the wrong field for me. I thought about switching into HR or teaching. I went to the local university and found out what it would take to get a teaching degree. It would have taken another 3-years and umpteen thousand dollars. I decided against it.
And then I remembered getting my TEFL certificate last year to teach English. Teaching is something I like to do, just not in the traditional sense – in a classroom, in a school, with 30 kids.
I also remember searching for a coach two years ago, and my fascination with psychology. Coaches help their clients, through thoughtful questions, remove mental blocks so the client can achieve higher success.
This is what it is.
I Need Your Help. There is Something in it for YOU. GoFundMe is the Platform.
That being said, I’ve decided I must return to the United States for these reasons:
- Get my face fixed
- Make sure my ankle is fixed
- Go to Coach Training Certification School
- Get my life going again, whether working in HR or as an entrepreneur helping others overcome their mental blocks
However, I am completely out of money. Like I said earlier, I am a prisoner to Italy. I want to escape. Right now. On June 18th to be precise.
It is extremely difficult to ask for help. I’ve been working on this post for the past week, and it’s only finally done. Does it show that I’m stupid when I need to ask for help? Should I have known better? I’m embarrassed at my situation, but I did not ask for this to happen to me.
Please know that every $10 helps! I will be so grateful for anything you can donate and for sharing this with your network. And, THERE IS SOMETHING IN IT FOR YOU!
Transportation from Italy to Tennessee
My parents live in Tennessee, and there is a VA hospital there so that’s where I am going to go, for the short-term anyway. These are transportation costs that I desperately need help with:
Government Paperwork that allows me to bring HRH back into the United States
Vet Health Certificate required for Government Paperwork
Distemper Shot which is required for the airline
Groomer – The Queen has got to be stink free!
Flight from Rome to Tri-Cities, TN on Delta (I must fly on Delta because they are the only airline that allows dogs to fly in the cabin, under the seat, on transatlantic flights).
Airline Fee for HRH
2 Overweight Suitcases
International Currency Exchange Fees (everything here must be paid in euros – Wells Fargo charges a 3% conversion fee)
Total transportation costs:
€10.54 or $12.39
€19 or $22.34
€30 or $35.24
€30 or $35.24
€1,149.24 or $1,351.76
€200 or $235.29
€85 or $99.97
€170 or $199.94
Luckily I was active duty navy for 7 years way back in the day, so I have access to the VA Health Care System. The only problem is they don’t cover dental unless my mouth was ripped off in Afghanistan or somewhere.
These are what the Italians say it will cost to fix my mouth here – it’ll be more expensive in the United States. Everything is more expensive there.
Dentist: 5 Tooth reconstructions, 3 Root canals, 3 Teeth Whitenings, Application of Braces, Permanent Retainer
Orthodontic work to move my teeth back into their proper position. This is only a guess based on my previous orthodontic work along with my children’s.
Total dental costs:
€4,800 or $5,646.93
Shipping My Belongings from Italy
I would like to have what I’ve accumulated in Italy sent to the US to be with me. Remember, I have nothing I’m returning to. Luckily I haven’t bought any furniture, so this is pretty straight forward.
All the quotes I’m getting are right at:
Shipping HHG: Kitchen items, bathroom stuff, and clothes by ship to Jacksonville, FL or Chicago, IL (I guess it goes on a ship to NYC then on a truck). This is a shared container shipping method.
Packing Supplies: Boxes, tape, bubble wrap, newspaper, etc.
International Currency Exchange Fees (Again, these must be paid in euros at a 3% fee)
Total HHG Shipping costs:
€1,740 or $2,047.16
~ €100 or $117.57
~ €40 or $47.06
$370.62 – GoFundMe Fee
The total amount I need to make this happen is:
Other Ways You Can Help
I really appreciate anything you can do to help me!
Other ways that you can help is by sharing the GoFundMe page with your network on Facebook, through email, and/or just mentioning it to people.
I’ve read that every share is worth $37 – so, share on, please!
What I can do for YOU in Return
Ok, I have some skills. I don’t know why (other than I’m wearing the 50-year-old+ woman Invisibility Cloak) I can’t get a job. But, that is neither here nor there at the moment.
One of my skills is Web Design (I designed CakedonMakeup.com and BellissimaCucina.com).
Another skill is I’m Certified as an English Teacher for foreigners.
And another skill I will be getting is life coaching.
I will repay you when you help me in one of the following ways:
- For every €125 ($150) I will give you or someone you designate five (5) English language lessons over Skype or another online platform.
- For every €250 ($300) I will give you a package of five (5) coaching sessions beginning when I have completed the first module of coach training in the middle of July for you or someone you designate over Skype, Zoom, the telephone, or any other method that works well.
- For €425 ($500) I will build a semi-custom webpage for you, your business, or someone you designate on the WordPress.org platform. *
- For €1,700 ($2,000) I will build you a semi-custom website consisting of up to five (5) pages for you, your business, or someone you designate on the WordPress.org platform. *