Goodbye 2008...

Goodbye 2008.....the year of the exes

Is it out with the old and in with the new?
Goodness, I only wish I knew.

After several years of faking it, my estranged spouse finally left his basement apartment on Christmas. So, I've been squirreled up alone in the house for a week trying to figure out the fairest way to do the right thing. I haven't really told anyone because I know I'll get an earful of well meaning advice. They'll tell me to change the locks, hide the money or some other nasty antagonistic garbage.

You know, love is not about following one's head but one's heart. I can't be cruel to a friend of 17 years whether or not we are together. Oh well, some people will never understand.

What a New Year! It's a new beginning, all right...

They say that whatever you're doing at the stroke of midnight, you'll do all year long. I used to arrange very fun, ahem, activities for 11:59 until I ceased to have a willing partner. This year, I don't know what I'm going to do. I'll probably be eating chocolate and avoiding the four hour telephone call where my ex is pleading with me to take him back.

Crud...

The thing that makes this extra difficult for me was a lesson that I learned this year courtesy of my high school sweetheart.

Every time I heard Dan Fogelberg's Old Lang Syne, I wondered what it would be like to run into him again. I was lucky to have that experience this year and, joy of joys, my old friend is alive and healthy. Now, if he were happily married I could finally get over my guilt for my part in our break-up. I could justify my behavior by saying that he was meant to be with someone else.

My old friend taught me that true love never dies an easy death. The feelings don't disappear on their own. Time doesn't necessarily take love away.

He also taught me that if you arrange to meet a former flame, you should do it in Antarctica where it is too cold to feel hot. The prime advantage of meeting in a sub-zero environment is that you have the opportunity to wear several layers of clothing. This helps in two ways; first, you can easily hide the symptoms of your, ahem, personal issue and second, you have more clothes to remove thus giving you extra time to remember why you and this person parted in the first place.

I've given this a lot of thought.

Thankfully, he doesn't like me near as much as I like him. So, he was the perfect gentleman. He probably would have become violently ill if he knew what my Id was thinking. Still, unrequited love can be quite a saving grace. My super-ego is so lucky.

The realization that love doesn't die an easy death made it hard for me to run away from my dying relationship. I figured that I should wait until it dies completely before moving on so that I don't have inappropriate feelings for this man in the future. I also know that, no matter what, part of me will always care for my former spouse. I will never hate him. It is not in my nature.

I wish I could understand how people can have so many loves and so many break-ups. Maybe there is a trick to this that I don't understand. Or maybe, the trick is not to love everyone you're with. Then, perhaps, I wasn't made for such a lifestyle.

The New Year holiday is rough for me. I used to only cry over my high school sweetheart whenever I heard Old Lang Syne....

Now, I guess I'll think of two men...

Happy New Year and new beginnings...to everyone.



Love ya,
S.

I finally get it!!!

After all of these years, I finally understand the purpose behind parachute pants!!!

Funny....

My dad, who was a sailor in World War II, used to brag about putting rolls of paper and oblong objects down his pants to attract women when his ship went to port.

I guess, using that method of attraction, a man in parachute pants could put all sorts of things next to his package and really impress the ladies, eh?

To tell the truth, I've never unwrapped a pair of pants to reveal an acoustic guitar before.

I guess I haven't lived!!

Happy Holidays....May all your surprises be wonderful.

Love,

S.
A very Cookie Girl
(a tip of my hat to bassist Rick James - RIP).

Now They Tell Me...

Old love does not rust.

~ Estonian Proverb

Wishful Thinking...

I received this email today from astrology.com. Their horrorscopes never really work for me. My Mother was an astrologer. She once told me that I was supposed to be born around November 7th or so. I was born eight weeks too early and entered this world as a 4 lb. September baby.

Anyhow, my mother once told me I should read the Scorpio horoscopes rather than the Virgo ones because of my intended due date. Neither work well. If I resonate with any pseudo-personality profile, I'd say that it is the sign of Pisces. So that's what I read.

Always do whatever works for you.

Below is the email that I received. I'm on a mailing list for folksy superstitious wishing rituals. I can tell you right now that this wish ritual does not work.

Nope...

Start of Email:


Dear S.,

Here is your Daily Wish for Saturday, November 29:


Should you spot a man wearing a kilt in some country other than Scotland, make a wish. If you can manage to touch the kilt, your chances of the wish coming true are enhanced.

End of Email.

Several years ago, a former beau paraded around in one of those outfits and I made a wish. It was shortly after we broke things off. I always thought he was parading his hot legs around just to make me miss him.

Part of me still believes that, too....

As he floated past me, I made my wish.

Well, it didn't come true.

Nope.

I know this because I didn't get the chance to, ahem, "enhance the chances" of my wish coming true.

Oh, well....

I wasn't wearing a blue ribbon that day, anyway.....

Siegfred's Jezebel Curse

Warning and Disclaimer: If you are a City Attorney who makes a living perjuring yourself in court, do not read the remainder of this rant as it could be hazardous to your ability to make a dishonest living. By reading this rant, you agree to take full responsibility for whatever may occur within your mind due to the content and free the writer from all liability. Honest lawyers may proceed without concern....

*****

I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. That is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.

~Martin Luther King

I am frustrated by the fact that certain lawyers, who represent my municipality, get away with lying in court and generally treating citizens badly. I've tried asking the powers that be in this city to work towards change, to no avail.

I did get a little lip service but it doesn't look like anything has changed. Bummer. I'm not going to be over it until I see confirmation that their policies have changed. They made my life difficult: I want to see that they are not going to do this to anyone else ever again! I've tried to get them to listen. Now, I've decided to submit my formal complaint to the State Supreme Court.

That bad city lawyer really irritated me, on my dime, too!

• A good lawyer does not threaten to embarrass someone for pointing out wrongdoing or even illegal activities that can get them sued (i.e. allowing a tax audit supervisor to diagnose a co-worker with a mental illness, then fine the family $500 promising the man that he could keep his job, but then firing him anyway because his supervisor practiced medicine without a license... I suspect projection on the part of the supervisor).
• Then, that lawyer doesn't insult the citizen (i.e. claiming that she sleeps with a certain man every night and sees him everyday so she should be able to diagnose him with health issues...after 18 years that wasn't the case and mentioning my sex life surely felt like an inappropriate and disrespectful insult. There were other very personal insulting comments made about my personality, too..).
• A good lawyer should be able to argue without slamming the phone down in the citizen's ear.
• A good lawyer does not threaten to embarrass members of the citizen's family if that citizen chooses to continue to point out the problem to the people in charge (i.e. illegal fines that risk the exempt status for city employees*, playing doctor without a license, violating the ADA, not using the EAP, unfounded and embarrassing accusations about domestic violence, not investigating reports of domestic violence, and so much more...We didn't break the law. Why would we be embarrassed?).
• A good City Attorney doesn't send a colleague into a hearing to lie about that citizen, whom they have never met, in a transcribed court hearing (I'm not even going to go into the sexist bull that was spewed about me...Progressive All America [sic] City, my @$$).
• Furthermore, a good City Attorney doesn't send a Paralegal to harass a citizen at her home and over the telephone the day before a hearing for her estranged-husband.

This is an incomplete list of city related irritations.

Reading the hearing transcripts made me laugh. It is potentially the most expensive gossip I have ever read. There will, most likely, be legal complications due to the garbage spewed in that hearing. It has certainly cost me a pretty dime.

That hearing had absolutely nothing to do with me. I never worked for the City. I've never met these people: how could they know such supposed intimate details about my private life and personal thoughts?

They don't.

They should have nothing to say about me except that I am concerned that they are violating a few Federal and State Laws and not following their own human resource policies. They need to update a couple, too - Here it is so that the ego-searching PR guy can drill it into someone's head! In a nutshell: don't let your people play doctor or shrink, don't let them accuse people of crimes that never get reported to the police, and always refer to suspected "mental cases" to the EAP....is that too much to ask?

I've tried working with the city to change their policies. It's time to bring in other people. I'm going to start with the lawyer regulatory agencies.

What I would really like to do, is publicly state that I really want to hire a Magickal Spellcaster, Voo-doo priest, or Satantic High Priestress, so that I can pay for the casting of a simple curse.

The curse?

Should any attorney working on behalf of the City knowingly lie during any hearing: the City Attorney's office will automatically lose their case.

Period.

Now, the fun thing about curses, is that they only work if the target believes in them. Curses are like a major mind screw. If you think you're cursed you are going to behave in self-sabotaging ways: you will stammer and turn red when you lie. Your eyes will twitch. And every time you tell a lie in a court of law, no matter how well meaning, you will start to grin so widely no one will ever believe you.

Tell me, Ms. Nasty Lawyer, are you superstitious?

Let go of the need to lie. Tell the truth from now on.

To to her bosses, you really don't want a liar among you, do you? She who lies for you will eventually speak against you. Remember that.

***************************************************

I am a citizen. My taxes pay part of the salaries of city employees. If they lose the exempt status for the audit department (which fining an exempt employee for "rumors" that he took breaks during business hours potentially does) our taxes go up. As a taxpayer, I have a vested interest in sharing what I know. A suspension would have been legal: a fine is not. And, there is no exemption for government entities under federal law despite what the Department of Labor tells you.

Finally, I wanted to start a business in the City until I realized how dishonest the Tax Audit Supervisor was. I had already spent $1,000 on logo artwork for the business with the expectation that it would be here. The $500 that was raided to pay that fine came directly from my seed money (and yeah, I know who I blame for that annoying act). Still, the City Attorney can't skirt the fact that they created the crappy situation by breaking the law in the first place!

I was angry prior to hearing all the nasty gossip about myself. How can you testify about someone you've never met at a court hearing? I was not even asked to be present! It should never have involved me in the first place.

Yes, the truth seems to come in short supply at the municipal building. If a Tax Audit Supervisor is going to lie about someone she's never met, what is she going to say about the small business owner who can be tricked into paying too much in taxes and padding her numbers?

A liar is still a liar no matter what hat she chooses to wear.

When I pointed this out to the city lawyer, she yelled at me!! That doesn't change the fact that City Managers allow this type of behavior from those in their employ. It makes them look incredibly bad.

I tried alerting them. They don't care.

I can't, in good faith, start a business here and I've actually advised business people against it. You'd be surprised who you meet on networking websites. I'd say that this has cost them at least 100 times more in lost revenue what they fined our family (probably more).

I hope they chew on that fat fact. They should take care of this soon, so I can change my public opinion of the City. People talk. The truth can sting a heck of a lot more than any lie.

.

By the way, the curse thing, well....the simple threat of one can be just as effective as inducing a full blown hypnotic trance. We'll see. It makes for an interesting form of self-hypnosis. I like calling that trick my Jezebel Curse, because like the biblical Jezebel, it is certainly manipulative.

.

If the superstitious subject sees this, and gets this far after reading the original hypnotic commands, they most likely have already been accepted into her psyche.

.

It's fun being a brat.

Cheers!

Edit 4/17/09: I received a copy of letter from the Colorado Supreme Court advising us to sue the Assistant City Attorney in a civil court of law and speak to the personnel director for the City.

Trying to speak to her boss was my first course of action, unfortunately, I was informed that there was no one who will talk to me. After sending several letters to the Mayor's office and every single member of the City Council, the personnel director did contact me. The problem was that this occurred shortly after a City Councilperson told us to sue and my estranged spouse started interviewing lawyers. I did send the contact with the City some of the information I collected about recommended HR policy, mental health issues, and domestic violence. I don't know if he is going to do anything constructive with it. Unlike other metro area cities, this City has a reputation for being lazy. The powers that be will probably have to be embarrassed into action.

It's just a shame I can't go into detail quite yet. How many people will be hurt in the interim?

God does weird stuff for a reason. The trick is figuring out why crap happens in the first place. There is always a lesson for every situation life throws at us.

Why do bullies create so much drama? Whenever I read the paperwork, I realize that someone really spent a lot of time making a bunch of crap up. It had to be a woman. Men, if they lie, it is usually one well placed lie and that is it. If you are bullied by a woman, though, they make everything complicated and you have to sort through convoluted stories and tons of petty bull crap in order to figure out exactly what happened.

Just when you think you've figured it out, Ms. Bully pulls a new trick out of her hat! It is so darn annoying!

I also learned yesterday that someone posted one of my hastily written blog articles on a disability website. I guess I can't complain that the story is getting exposure. I'm just a little embarrassed at how convoluted the story is. It is actually quite tortuous to read and, darn it, my grammatical errors don't help. Next time I'll be sure to run the article through a really good word processing program. As a dyslexic, I know better.

Sigh..

Take care of your wonderful selves.

Cheers.

Elect Change

To change one's life: Start immediately, do it flamboyantly, no exceptions, no excuses.

~ William James

Wild Boys

Every man over forty is a scoundrel.

- George Bernard Shaw

****

Except you, Pat.

Happy Birthday - May all your wishes come true.

Spooky....

Bring forth the raisins and the nuts-

Tonight All-Hallows' Spectre struts

Along the moonlit way.

~ John Kendrick Bangs

***

Okay, I went to the cemetary to visit my parents. I was hoping to spook myself on Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead).

According to various Pagan traditions, the veil between the land of the dead and the land of the living is supposed to be thin. From sundown at Samhain until sundown on All Saints Day (Nov. 1), it is easy for the dead to have contact with the living. That's why we have the tradition of dressing our children in scary costumes - it is supposed to scare away the ghosts.

My last couple of visits to cemetaries have been strange, to say the least. In July, I visited my parents and hallucinated. In September, I accompanied a friend as she visited her father's grave. I actually hallucinated in front of her. I heard her father's voice. He told me to have my friend call her mother.

Once I uttered the weird thought to my friend, she received a call from her young niece telling her that her mother was picked up by an ambulance and on her way to the hospital.

It gets weirder. The girl did not know what hospital my friend's mother was in. My friend called other relatives, no one knew anything. I had a hunch to drive to a Catholic hospital a few blocks away. My friend ran into the emergency area and discovered her mother. My dear friend laughed about the coincidence.

I wasn't laughing. It was spooky...

Due to those experiences, I decided that I absolutely must visit a cemetary today, that way I could try to prove the weird stuff to myself. I loaded up my camera and flowers. I hopped into the car and drove to the cemetary.

Nothing happened.

Nothing.

No noise. No birds. No hallucinations.

Nothing.

It was dead quiet.

Well, there was one thing out of the ordinary. My parents' plot was sunken in today: you could see a rectangle extended out in front of the gravestone for several feet*.

It wasn't sunken in a few months ago.

That's curious, maybe they left for the day.

Hmmmm.......Where would they go?

Would they visit the grandkids?

Crap, I didn't clean the house.

My mother in my filthy house?

Now, that's the definition of horror!
Can ghosts hurl brooms and dust rags?
Just kidding....
She wouldn't do that. Mom would just short out the electricity so no one would see the mess.
Good ol' Mom. I sure miss her.
But on this Day of he Dead, nothing was freaky or out of order.
nada....zip....zilch.
sigh...

***

* Okay, I'll admit it...the ground was wet and the dirt was a little compacted. Still, the belief that the dead can roam the Earth or watch the living is a scary one: there are things that I don't want my Mom to see me doing.

Be Careful What you Wish For...

Being frustrated is disagreeable,

but the real disasters in life begin when you get what you want.

~Irving Kristol

Hauntings....

This has certainly been a strange year. I do one silly love spell to save a dead marriage and the men from my past are showing up out of nowhere. Funny thing, they are all Scorpios. So, now, as their birthdays crop up, I can't help but think of them.

To tell the truth, Scorpio men are not the best choice for a woman trying to prove to herself that she has he same self-control as a saint. No...sir....the way they tilt their heads and stare into your soul is really hard to ignore.

Then, there is always the one that Eros nails a woman with first: he's ten times worse than any other because he is he origin of any desires. It doesn't matter how old he gets, he still has that adorable affect which has the same effect on her.

Then, the day finally comes when she realizes, with horror, that any man that followed had far too much in common with that one first love. Who does she really love then?

It's usually shortly after this point that the universe brings the woman together with that first love. It should be a fun filled time of reminiscing but, due to her recent inner revelation, she's uneasy, easily freaked out, and in denial.

When this happened to me, my denial created a silent wish to move to Costa Rica and change my name to Blanca Nieves (or something else denoting my impossible wish for purity). In the past, when confronted with confounding feelings, running away was always my answer.

Now, I just get dizzy. I developed vertigo as I was preparing to say goodbye to my first love after seeing him for the first time in ages. I guess Vertigo is a perfect psychosomatic reaction to acting on my ego's desire to stand up erect while my heart and mind were falling all over the place.

My advice, don't let that happen to you. If you're ever in that situation, just fall. Don't fight it. If he's not interested, you can just pick yourself back up without regret.

The truth of the matter is that the men from my past are ghosts. I can fantasize all I want about what could have been. In reality, I know, I'd probably be better off letting a demon incubus steal my soul. There is a reason things did not work, even if I do not remember the reason.

Que Sera Sera....

Ah, but no incubus can steal what I gave away to HIM so freely.


Sigh....

For what it is worth, Happy Halloween!

Potential Pyromania...

From a little spark may burst a flame.

~ Dante Alighieri

What is more important: your love or your desires?

And maybe love is letting people be just what they want to be

The door always must be left unlocked

To love when circumstance may lead someone away from you

And not to spend the time just doubting

~Howard Jones

What is Love?

***

I remember the day my marriage fell apart. It was three years ago, last June. We were sitting in a Burger King of all places and I was telling my spouse about a job that I wanted to pursue.

He refused to let me work. He is a little old fashioned.

.

Before we married, he promised me that I could finish my doctorate in psychology. He promised me that I could work full time and that we would be an egalitarian couple. We would work together so no one would have to bear the brunt of the economic responsibility for our family.

.

And so it was....until his family got involved. Ninety days into our marriage, his Mother and Uncle led my Husband outside while his Father, Aunt, and Sister along with several other family members cornered me in my own kitchen and yelled about my status as a student. I remember laughing that they didn't share their concerns until after the point that I could file for an annulment.

.

It got worse, over the course of that first year. Members of his family would put me down in his presence: he wouldn't say a thing. Once he actually joined in the ridicule. Still, it wasn't my place to tell his family off. Yeah, I did though use reverse psychology on them from time to time.

.

My feelings were hurt but I persevered.

.

He brought debt into the marriage and he spent my money as he saw fit. He spent my savings on a house far away from the city against my wishes. He took my car when it suited him. The lack of resources made it tough for me to find ways to work around his demands. He made it tough for me to attend class or work. I couldn't be reliable for a boss that I respected dearly, so I gave my notice and left a job I loved.

.

That kept the peace for a little while. But, I was broke (financially and spiritually).

.

I am a high energy person. I love to work. I held my first job at fourteen. I loved it. Work allows me to expend my energy and meet new people. A the time, I had spent eight years out of the workforce and I really missed holding a job.

.

I sat in the restaurant telling my spouse that I needed this opportunity. I begged. I pleaded.

He said "NO".

.

Then, What is Love by Howard Jones began to pipe through the speakers of the restaurant.

Jones voice gently sang...

.

And maybe love is letting people be just what they want to be

The door always must be left unlocked

.

I began to cry. I couldn't help it. The tears were silent. The pain was deep.

.

I realized that with my spouse, I would never be allowed to make use of my education, my talent, or my experience. I was not allowed to leave the home and meet new people. My needs were not important enough to be met, let alone heard.

.

I still cry when I hear that song.

.

As a teenager, my high school sweetheart used to sing Howard Jones ballads to me. I doubt he remembers that. I'm surprised that I have that memory, but I do. My boyfriend left me so that I could pursue my dreams of college. I will always love that man for he was the one who taught me the meaning of unconditional love.

.

No matter what I do, I will always see my old friend as that beautiful and wonderfully intelligent seventeen year old boy with all the curiosity and vitality in the world. I will always love my friend.

.

To love when circumstance may lead someone away from you

And not to spend the time just doubting

.

I recently saw my old friend. I pray he saw my love and concern in my eyes last time we met. I saw his confusion. I saw his pain. I also saw his concern. I tried to build him up and talk him into noticing all the women staring at him. He didn't see it.

.

He never noticed such things. He never understood his unique beauty.

.

I pray he finds the love of his life soon and that she is someone who can see his true beauty.

Until then, I pray he doesn't doubt that a friend will always love him unconditionally.

.

Every time I hear this song, I will think of two men:

.

one whose desires were more important than his love,

and one whose love was more important than his desires.

Sign here...

A man's kiss is his signature.

~Mae West

Controlling the herd with fear....

We are turning into a nation of whimpering slaves to Fear—fear of war, fear of poverty, fear of random terrorism, fear of getting down-sized or fired because of the plunging economy, fear of getting evicted for bad debts or suddenly getting locked up in a military detention camp on vague charges of being a Terrorist sympathizer.

~ Hunter S. Thompson

"Extreme Behavior in Aspen,"

February 3, 2003

What Darryl Taught Me...

Today is my friend Darryl's* birthday.

When I met Darryl, he was my adversary. Let me explain.

I was eighteen years old and living with my boyfriend in a tiny suburban apartment. My parents had died years before and the stories my little 15 year old sister told me about her foster home were frightening. The worst story had something to do with a broom handle and a very private orifice. It took all the self-control in the world not to evoke violence on the scum that allowed that to happen.

My boyfriend and I had enough: we decided to try to take her in. We got married and began a two year legal affair that led us to meet Darryl.

My sister was fairly traumatized, to say the least. She ran away from the foster home and met Darryl on the streets of Downtown Denver. He took her in. At that point, Darryl began fighting for the custody of my sister, too.

Darryl was kind enough to allow me to visit my sister. I did not have a clue what to think about him. His living room was filled with assorted phalluses of various shapes and sizes. They were displayed around the front room like one would display photos of family. I'd have to estimate that he had 50 to 75 of those things....they were everywhere!! That must be why they called him "Woody".

Then, there were the cats. There must have been 20 cats. The smell was, indeed, too intense for words. The man certainly had a big heart: he could not let anyone or anything stay out in the cold.

During our court battle, Darryl, my sister, and another man came to our apartment. The day was 10-24-89 and it is burned into my memory like a slow movie.

Darryl grabbed me and pushed me into my bedroom. I will never forget the threat that Darryl made as he pushed me down onto a waterbed and crawled on top of me.

I remember being told that I owed him $400 per month for the privilege of caring for my own sister (because that was what the state would pay him if he won custody). Then, Darryl said that I owed him something more because it was his birthday and he began to remove my clothing....the only reason that he stopped was that I told him my husband was on his way home.

He wasn't. It was my husband's 24th birthday, so there was the slight chance he would come home. I never told my husband about that incident. He was known for his quick and dangerous temper as a young man. I am certain that he would have killed Woody.

But, the threat of sexual assault was enough for me to drop the legal battle. Darryl won by default. I avoided him for years. I rarely told anyone why.

The truth of the matter is that my sister has a habit of bringing men to my home that expect things, well, things that they are not entitled to have. She is a prostitute and I guess that kind of expectation comes with the territory. It's best to avoid the problems by keeping her at an arms length.

Still, once in a while, my path would cross with Darryl's. Over time, my extended family began to treat him as one of their own. He met and married a lovely social worker. They raised a son.

If anyone needed something, Darryl was always there. This allowed me the chance to get to know Darryl, albeit very guardedly. The more I spoke him him, the more his personal story came out.

Darryl was adopted as a child. Even though his adopted parents were wonderful, he said that he spent most of his life feeling as though something was missing.

He spent his life trying to make a difference the only way he knew how. He took in "throw-away" kids and animals, trying to give them the family they so deserved. Over time, he took in at least three more foster children.

There is no such thing as throw-away people.

As Darryl aged, he found his birth family. From that point forward, the man had a presence about him that could best be described as angelic. He did not hold a paying job, rather, he volunteered 40 hours a week at the local food bank and spent time helping the homeless.

Darryl died two years ago. His last words to me were "live for love".

The night before he died, I dreamed of my former husband. In the dream, he told me vividly that he had a stroke and that his mother had died of a heart attack. I woke up in tears and prayed like crazy for several hours before the phone rang.

It was Darryl's birth brother. He wanted to let me know that Darryl had been in the hospital for nearly a day due to a brain aneurysm. He did not make it. I was also informed that Darryl's mother-in-law died the week before of a heart attack.

Darryl was interesting in that he did not believe in degrees of separation. There was no such thing as being his foster child: you were his child. His mother-in-law was his mother. His sister-in-law was his sister and so on. In fact, he found a way to make everyone a part of his extended family.

As Darryl aged he became very open and very loving with everyone.

The dream was weird. I dreamed of a man who shared Woody's birthday...but the message was spot on.

The day he died was the first day of a horrible blizzard. It kept people stuck in their homes for several days. On the day of his funeral, we left two hours early and managed to drive 30 miles to the church to pay our respects. Within one block of the church, the traffic light malfunctioned. We waited at least 45 minutes to get out of that mess. I was there so long, I began to hallucinate.

I thought I heard Darryl's voice again saying "live for love" and a white bird flew to the traffic light. I watched it perch on the light post before the light turned green and traffic began to move.

We still missed his funeral service. I think Darryl knew that we tried to be there for him.

Every October 24th, I think of Darryl and his attempts to make the world a better place. Yeah, as a young man he was scary and intense - but - his life was one of growth. If we are judged, I hope that we are judged by what we learn from our lessons and what we become throughout the years - not- the sins of our youth.

My friend was forgiven a long time ago.

Happy Birthday!

Luckily, there are other ways to Get Off...

It is impossible to fall out of love.

Love is such a powerful emotion, that once it envelops you it does not depart.

True love is eternal.

If you think that you were once in love, but fell out of it, then it wasn't love you were in.

There are no 'exit' signs in love, there is only an 'on' ramp.

~Unknown

****

The Doppleganger

Love is when you're kept up all night thinking of him, and then when you fall asleep,

you find him in your dreams.

~ Unknown

****

I've been playing with self-hypnosis to stop thinking about an ex.   I think it is working. I don't dream of HIM anymore. No. Now, I dream of another man that I know with a very similiar name, similiar features, who was born on the same day as HIM.

Weird.

I guess my mind replaced Tom, a 38 year old Scorpio with brown hair and blue eyes

with

Todd, a 38 year old Scorpio with brown hair and blue eyes.

Ah, but the difference is in the eyes.

Their faces are eerily similiar, but, Todd's eyes are sky blue. They look most beautiful when he's talking about his stunning wife.

Tom's blue eyes have this indescribable quality that I've never seen anywhere else.

So, now I go through all this to realize that, I'm still dreaming of HIM....

I'm just calling him by the wrong name.

Whoa....

Do I have a V on my forehead?

Well, the false allegation of domestic violence made by my husband's ex-boss has started to dent my reputation. I don't know what to think.

The police never investigated the claim of domestic violence. It was a rumor. A police officer treated my estranged spouse as though he was guilty - there was no investigation, no arrest, or no trial. In my mind, that minimizes the case of men and women who truly need to escape violent family situations.

I have never met anyone my spouse worked with at the city. I have met the Mayor and members of the City Council but that was in connection to the volunteer work my daughter did as a member of the  City Youth Commission. I never wanted to involve myself in my spouse's affairs.

Still, how can someone be guilty without an investigation? I was once a victim's advocate. I called the agency with which I used to volunteer for clarification about the law mandating that police officers investigate credible reports of domestic violence and I didn't get anywhere.

Do you know why?

There is a stigma when you're a perceived to be a victim of domestic violence. Whenever you try to validate the man in question, it is assumed that the man beats you and put to up to clearing his name.

I'm not only trying to clear his name. I'm trying to clear my name. I've been offered domestic violence help and counseling because, now I am perceived as "a victim".

My primary motivation is to shed light on the importance of the issue. Domestic violence is an important issue. It will never be taken seriously so long as men and women can be publicly humiliated due to false allegations.

Really, no one can cry wolf and expect people to listen when a true predator knocks on the door!

You know, I aspire to become State Certified as a domestic violence counselor as part of my training in Drug and Alcohol counseling. I don't know if this will hurt my chances of reaching that goal. This could be a wonderful learning opportunity or a personal hell. I don't which way the pendulum will swing yet.

There are court transcripts with other snippets of gossip that pertain to my psycho-social-physical health as seen through the eyes of my husband's ex-boss. I am currently awaiting them.

How can an accountant diagnose someone with a mental health disorder?
How can she make assumptions about someone she's never met and spout them in court?
I have to ask if this is pure projection on the part of the accountant. Does she need to get help for victim issues in her past? If so, she can always call the Denver Safe house: I refer women there all the time. The few abused men I've met usually end up in therapy and being taken in by family. There is no where for them to go. I'd love to see a men's group start a safe house because as women gain power the problem will continue to grow but that's another blog entry.
As far as what is happening now...I have so many questions...

Why won't anyone at the city listen to me?
This practice is a liability waiting to happen.
Do you know who will pay for it?
We will, every single citizen of this city will pay for it because.....

if it happens to me...it will happen to someone else.

To sue or not to sue....that is the question.

Maybe, I'll be better off sharing the story with the public.


The implications from this experience seem to be more harmful to men than women. Most of the gossip was used to discriminate against my estranged spouse.

If you have a husband, a son, brother, a father, an uncle, or a male friend....you'd probably want to do something, too.

This needs to change, now!


P.S. My neighbor just warned me about the city. I was informed that they would use any means necessary to harm my reputation and make me look bad.
Why would they need to do that?
I called my City Councilman about the cities procedures regarding the EAP program. I wanted to know where to send my inquiry about the EAP program. I never received an answer.
He had an Assistant City Attorney call me. When the lawyer yelled at me and told me about the gossip's lies, all I wanted to know was who to write about her obnoxious behavior and the fact that the lies influenced the HR department in a negative manner. A city paralegal told me that there was no one to write.
Now, I need to know who to share hearing transcripts containing gossip with in order to point out that gossip and discrimination are commonplace at the city and that someone needs to investigate it. They also need to define their procedures regarding domestic violence cases (maybe train the supervisors a little better and tell people about the EAP).
Do you see how things blow up when they are ignored?
Why make a villian out of a taxpayer?
It won't shut me up.
I know my motivations: I want to make things better for my neighbors.
The people who are lying need to check their motivations. Why would they badmouth someone that they have never met?
Things do not make sense, yet.
They will.

Perverts in Distress

Portions of the Post were deleted in order to increase legal options*....

Okay, one way to know that a woman is desperate is that everything that is said to her is twisted into some hedonistic fantasy. It's sick.

I had to tell my spouse that I'm paranoid because his ex-boss spread the rumor that I was battered*.

[While] describing my feelings and frustrations with the situation, I caught myself telling my spouse that I would prefer to be batter'd (as in vanilla cake batter), rolled through the goo, and baked in lust before...

...I was stuffed like an eclair.

I still love to make the man blush and excuse himself to his bedroom.I'm going to miss that.

Maybe I should stick around just to see him walk bent over when I'm being obnoxious.

Well....maybe not, that's not a good reason for us to stay together. We both deserve better.

Sigh....

Oh well, I promised myself that today is the last day that I'm going to lust after any lovely ex. It's time to let go....

Monday, I'll honor the Goddess of Love with a gift for other people suffering the pangs of unrequited love and the difficulties in letting go.

And, maybe, I'll quit running away from nice men who smile at me.

It's about time.

Sigh...

Fire Mirage in Antartica

Okay, my saga with the gossip and hearsay from the lawyers and others representing the City has become more, how do I say this....

ummmm,

confusing and strange.

Today, I found a letter from the State unemployment agency just sitting there on the kitchen table. Three words glared at me and I tried not to look at it. On the front page was a sentence about how an unnamed co-worker claimed that my estranged spouse was bothering her with "heated discussions with his wife."

Say what?

This man exhibits heat related to me?

Really?

Where????

When????

Really????

Are your sure that was my Iceman?

Are you sure he was talking to me?

Someone made that up, they had too.

But there it was, plain as day in a legal document.

We have heated discussions? After sixteen years???

Lady, we haven't needed air conditioning in this house since 2001. I'm serious...come over for tea on the hottest day of the year. You'll need a jacket.

I have to know, are these heated sexual discussions? Are they angry heated discussions? Is the person spouting that into the public record sure that these conversations took place? Are they sure he was speaking to me???

You've got to be kidding!! I don't think I could evoke an emotional response from the man anymore.

Hmmmm.....

Okay, maybe he has a mistress?

Could he have been talking to her?

The way his former supervisor is spreading gossip about me makes me think she was bopping him at lunch. Okay, he hasn't come home with that happy glow that only a wife knows. So it is doubtful that they got "it" on.

Why me?

They claim that I was a battered wife. If they publicly blame me for his departure from his job and publicly humiliate him before sending him home, don't they think that he'd beat the crap out of me?

It is possible that my estranged spouse was gossiping about me in an attempt to be emotionally abusive. If so, his former supervisor and her attorney are continuing this abuse by publicly relaying the gossip as the gospel truth. I don't think my tax dollars should pay someone to defame me.

Do they get that they can't do this, yet?

Probably not.

October is domestic violence awareness month! I'm taking this to the local media (maybe some station will pick it up after the election - or next year). The City Manager, the Mayor, and my City Councilman ignored me. Perhaps I can find someone to do a story on how people should handle office gossip related to domestic violence.

My advice, if you know of a credible threat or incident of domestic violence, call the police and report only what you know. Don't add or detract from the story. The police officers can decide whether or not to investigate. It is their job. You can only do what you can do.

If you're not sure if what you know constitutes a credible threat, contact your local domestic violence shelter and ask someone. They will educate you and advise.

That's it.

Don't risk becoming a target of an abuser. Don't spread gossip that you cannot confirm that may make the situation worse.

.

If you have a security guard or a police officer that you work with on a daily basis, do not ask him to publicly humiliate the person suspected of being a batterer without the benefit of an investigation (even if you claim to be sleeping with him). If he is a batterer, the victim will pay for it. If he isn't, well, that's the basis for a lawsuit, now isn't it.

.

I want the powers to be at the City to assure me that they've investigated the matter and changed their policies. A Tax Audit Supervisor cannot diagnose someone with a mental health disorder and spread unconfirmed rumors of a crime to a police officer who then acts as though someone is guilty without the benefit of an investigation. A good lawyer who represents he citizens, cannot possibly defend such behavior, either. Nor can she threaten or harass a citizen who only wants to make sure that it doesn't happen to another soul again!

Why doesn't the HR department have a policy with regard to suspicions of an employee having a "rage disorder"? Why doesn't management refer these employees to the EAP program?

.

The powers that be also need to revisit the procedures and limits on fining families for allegations that cannot be proven. I have a copy of court transcripts that state that there was no proof of the allegations that caused my savings to be raided of $500. Why not just dock the worker's pay? Why make his spouse pay for it? Stop....think...how would this influence one's perception of the City as a place a small business owner would want to invest in?

.

Is that too hard to do? Is that too much to ask? Funny, I have told this story to State politicians, heads of unions, and other business owners. No one believes that the City would find someone $500 without warning. They're shocked when I show them the paperwork. I haven't even shared the hearing transcripts when the attorney admits to having no proof of the allegations.

.

I tried to tell my City councilman. I tried to tell the City Manager. I tried to tell the Mayor. Now, it is my duty to tell anyone else who will listen what is going on. After all, it's our money being wasted by the pride and arrogance of a few city employees.

If someone at the City wants to make me shut-up, the powers that be may want to consider donating the $500 they fined (oops, I mean stole) from my family to the Battered Women's shelter and then match another $500. I'll shut-up when I get a copy of a receipt over the amount of $1,000 in the mail (and they stop defending the rouge employee who spreads crap about me). That will be a win-win.

.

Maybe, I should take that back...Perhaps the shelter will profit more if I promise them the money that I receive (after attorney fees) from a possible lawsuit. I am afraid that if I do not pursue this, another family will be harmed via gossip and lies of city employees.

.

Here's a hint for employers defending dysfunctional bosses in decision making positions. It is usually best to problem solve before you piss people off to the point of talking to lawyers. And, when the target of the lies tells your lawyer that she is looking into the legality of the matter, it is generally best not to allow the former boss to make up more garbage to spout publicly. Above all, do not allow the hostile gossip to testify and put the lies into the public record!!

.

Most people can be civil and make their case from the stand point of truth. If your client depends on hearsay, becomes very animated, and seems to know too much about someone he or she has never met - odds are she's not telling the truth.

And, yeah, I really want to tell the City Attorney one additional thing. Do not, ever, allow your paralegal to stuff paperwork into a mailbox. You may want to explain to her that (1) this is not proper service and (2) it is against Federal law. You also may want to let her know the name of the boss, too. She couldn't tell me when I asked the name of the person who needed to hear my feedback about the legal department. I found that odd.

.

Those are my tax dollars at work.

.

Until there is a resolution, I will move onward and forward....eventually someone will take this seriously!!!

.

.

P.S. Over the past few years, I've had to become a sounding board for a man sick of hearing about his female boss's disappointing sexual escapades. If it makes Ms. Gossip feel better, your issue is nothing that self-hypnosis can't solve. At least, I know that the worst gossip this sexual harassing snot spreads is about herself!

.

P.S.S. I'm posting this publicly just in case someone else is going through the same type of discrimination on the part of the City.

.

I am frustrated and truly want things to change, so much so, that I will testify for free as to my experience. My estranged spouse is so pissed he's agreed to do the same thing.

.

Many of the lies told about him were the same lies used to fire other co-workers. The difference is that we have proof of the lies in writing (the disciplinary action/fine says one thing...the unemployment comp appeal letter says another...and the lawyer said different things at the hearing that are documented on the transcripts - on the whole, the HR doesn't look too credible). Have your lawyer contact me and I'll put you in touch. If this has happened to you...keep your chin up and have faith it will all work out.

.

Rest assured, there are smoking guns that I haven't written about in this blog....but we have filed complaints with the Federal Government. Something fishy is going on at the City.

.

If that lawyer hadn't yelled and poked fun at me, I wouldn't have dug for the information either. So, maybe I should thank her.

.

I did learn one thing from her. When hiring a lawyer, get one who has the qualities of a loyal guard dog. Stay away from the ones who are rabid because they bite friends and foe alike. That's not a good thing. You never know whose curiosity an attack dog is going to trigger. Someone is going to want to know what all that snarling is truly about - and that someone may just find out.

This is gonna be some good ol' mean fun, ain't it?

(yeah, yeah I grew up in the sticks....we plain talkin' folk like[s] to take care of those slick n' slippery fast talkin' nasty types...they tend to slither 'way out yonder...when they've been smoked out of der hole).

.

Just give it time....eventually...the head of this stupid fiasco will disappear. We just have to find the identity of the abusive narcissist who allows this to continue. Only a narcissist would think he could get away with such garbage. Narcissist bullies are easy to mess with because their egos make them very fragile. They are so easy to smoke out and their nastiness will eventually show through. Sure, they have their rage fits and threaten to destroy people in the process - and they'll try. Eventually, though, they wind up hanging themselves.

Trust me.

My Tax Dollars Pay for My Defamation?

Trying to squash a rumor is like trying to unring a bell.

~Shana Alexander

***

 

It's worse when rumors are being made public by the people collecting your tax dollars.

I've heard so much crap about myself. I didn't know that;
I am a battered woman?,
I had symptoms of a heart attack in June and refused to go to the emergency room?, and
I expect my estranged spouse to be a stay at home dad?

None of these are true at all. There is a grain of truth in the health scare: the nurse determined it was due to another health concern (one that is protected under the ADA) coupled with pulled muscles from overdoing it at the gym.

Oh, brother....

Some of these lies were spouted at a hearing that had nothing to do with me. I have graciously asked one of the participants for the transcripts. I really want to report this human waste of tax dollars to someone at the city but I've been told that there is no one that will hear the complaint and that, as a home rule city, they can do whatever they want.

NO.....there is no exception for defamation, my friends (even in court).

In three months, no one has answered my calls or letters asking for an explanation. That is a shame. Her superiors should know.

If someone is going to run around and spread crap about a complete stranger--what will she say about YOU?

This is going to be amusing. It's only a matter of time before this erupts into something that will get her and the attorney spreading her crap...FIRED! Here's a hint: putting personal information about someone you have never met and cannot confirm into legal documents isn't the smartest thing to do.

Maybe this gossipy snot is doing God's work. If it weren't for her oral garbage, I would not have seen the truth about people close to me who betray me.

Still, I do not see how she gets Z from A. It must be pure projection. Was this woman a battered spouse who fantasized about having a man playing homemaker to the point she had heart palpitations?

 

You know, the idea of a naked man in an apron can be the sexiest thing in the world, especially if he is washing coffee cups (sexual symbolism explained: cups=female and washing....well, use your imagination there....Oohh).

If I ever meet Ms. Gossip, I should tell her that her employer has an EAP program. She should use it. My involvement in this mess actually was due to my contacting my City Councilman to ask that they consider telling "problem employees" about the EAP. Little did I know that my opinion would lead to such toxic behavior on the part of the City's legal office.

The gossip taught me that it is time to move on.

Still, I still want to take out the trash before I move.

Misadventures of a Bored Hypnotist

I am realizing that I experiment far too much on myself.

It's not a good idea to hypnotize yourself to feel happy when you see a certain color. If you do that, it's not a good idea to tell anyone else about it, especially when it is a member of the opposite sex.

You see, I was depressed and a friend took me to a coffee shop and sat me in front of four paintings, two of which were the color that makes me in incredibly happy.

No problem. Well, kinda....I told myself that I would think of a memory that would remind me of the happiest time of my life upon seeing this color and that memory involved this particular friend. I guess that is not so bad.

To be completely honest, I'm not sure if he brought me to that place on purpose or if I have a subconscious attraction to this color based on my reaction to it. But, I did find myself very happy to be at that particular spot with this particular friend.

Well, the problem was, you see...that when I was a lonely Hypnotist Housewife I, um, hypnotized myself to do have an unbelievable surge of endorphins on seeing a certain flower of another color. On seeing a flowers of a particular color I was going to experience the strongest, leg shaking euphoric sing song feeling in the world.

Oooh yeah.

The suggestion worked, so much so, that my entire bedroom was filled with silk flowers this particular color.

Getting back to the coffee shop, can you guess what the other two paintings were?

Yep, flowers of that particular color.

So, I found myself sitting in that hard wooden chair squirming, sweating, and doing my best to shake the flowing energy out of my legs while keeping my voice mute as my old friend was telling me how hot I was back in the day.

Not good.

Last week, I went back to that coffee shop with my estranged husband. We spent the evening trying to support friends who just bought a bar and I had a little too much ale. Coffee is the cure-all, so I found myself sitting in the exact same spot looking at those paintings, again.

And yeah, the inappropriate feelings came back up.

My spouse told me that it was "hot" watching me drink my coffee.

Okay, I realized that I had heard the word "hot" for two consecutive visits in that particular coffee shop. I had to ask why.

I was informed that I was stroking the coffee cup and twirling my tongue around the straw. He said that I looked like I was in heaven and he wanted to join me.

Men smell arousal, don't they? They can sense a party in one's.....hmmmm.....second chakra. Sexual energy must be catching, like a cold or the flu or something.

If a man has received an ongoing invitation to said party and never shows up - the day will come when he will not get another invite. I do not care how I drink my latte. I was not trying to flirt or send mixed messages. It was not me...it was the paintings...or the one armed man. I will blame the sky.....the moon....the ale......anything except myself and my poorly thought out hypnotic commands of my youth......yeah, yeah, that's the ticket.

Okay, I've only got myself to blame. I made a bad choice one day when my blood wasn't quite flowing in my brain and now I'm having to deal with the consequences, for better or worse.

I am debating the idea of getting rid of those commands by visualizing a big old delete button in my mind. I am not sure, though. Doesn't everyone want to have one place that they know they could go to ooze sexual energy?

Hmmm...maybe I will try to buy the paintings! They could come in handy someday!

Maybe Mr. Downer is Smarter Than We Are...

The power of accurate observation is frequently called cynicism by those who don't have it.

--George Bernard Shaw

Thought of The Day...

Be aware that a halo hast to fall only a few inches to be a noose.

--Dan McKinnon

****

If one succeeds through bullying - it won't take long for her to hang herself.

Negativity as a Shield...

I believe that men can smell a desperate woman a mile away. They must. When I'm sad and lonely, I seem to run into the most flirtatious men.

Either men are intrinsically programmed to try to make women happy

- or-

they know when they can get lucky.

 

I'm not ready to risk harming another man until I get my stuff together.

So, I've decided that I'm going to buy myself a fake wedding ring to put an end to this. I always wanted a plain old ring but my ex's were show-offs that bought fancy rocks.

 

I always thought that the best love affairs were simple and a ring should reflect that. When things get too complicated, things get messy. Love wasn't meant to be complicated.

Anyhow, here's my chance to buy the ring I always wanted.

Maybe I'll have it engraved. What should it say?

It's nice to be ice?

Love is for the birds?

Love sinks?

or maybe it should simply quote the wisdom of Spock...

"After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing,

after all, as wanting."

~Star Trek

Amok Time

Hmmmm....

I'll give it some thought.

Maybe the negative message will protect me from doing something completely stupid and harming other people in the process.

We'll see....

Oh, crap. I just realized that my wedding rings used to be a magnet for men looking for one night stands.

Maybe my grand scheme will backfire.

I don't know.

I'll give it some thought.

Thank Those Lucky Stars

I finally realized that last year, I would have given anything to know that my first love was alive. I received a gift better than that: I actually got to spend a few hours with him, hug him, and hear his heart beat again. That sound meant the world to me because it confirmed that he was, indeed, still living under the same sky that I live.

I owe the fates big time. How many women get so lucky?

Wow!

I still want to run away and hide because of my inappropriate feelings, but at least, I'll be holding that stick and hankie with a smile on my face.

Now, how do I repay God for the gift of seeing my friend again? Maybe I can start by praying that my first love finds his true love.

Hmmmm....I know of a scary witch who sells freaky love spell kits. Never mind. I don't think he would go for that. Besides, it didn't work out all that well for me....well, maybe it did. 

My Handsome Thought Invader

My friends and family will never let me forget my first love. He was a part of my life during an important part of my personal development and his influence will always be felt.

I was orphaned as a teen. After my parents died, I became incredibly irrational. I wanted to leave this plane of existence, end it all, and be with them. My boyfriend ratted me out, made me visit shrinks and, low and behold, I grew up to be a psychotherapist.

I am alive because he was there. I am what I am because of the path he led me to take.

His break-up note will always be impressed in my mind. I can see it clear as day. As a college bound high school senior, I received a note that said

"I'll get in the way of the things you wanted to accomplish in life, so I'm leaving you."

At the time I thought that was a cover story for a 17 year old that wanted a taste of someone else, so I moved on. Although I moved on, I never could forget him. I could never stop loving him either.

Within six-months of our break-up, I was sexually assaulted. I remember thinking to myself that the assault must have been the only way God could get another man to touch me. I also remember being thankful that my dear friend was long gone and would never see the pain in my face. I swore he would never find out.

My friends said he was trying to find me during those weeks I was holed up in my apartment trying to find the pieces of my soul that the attacker stole. A neighbor actually told me that he came to the apartment looking for me and would spend time standing outside the window, trying to peer inside. I did not believe it and I never answered the door. It took me a lot of therapy to get comfortable enough to answer my door again or to even open the shades wide enough to let the sunlight warm up the window.

I prayed the figure outside my window was not him. I took solace in the fact that my dear first boyfriend was long gone, living his life, and would be safe from the drama that seemed to invade my life.

While convalescing from the trauma, I never was alone. My neighbors and friends would stay with me constantly. They told me that I would talk in my sleep. They would ask who the man I spoke about was. Apparently, I yelled his name in my sleep.

It seems, that I still do to this very day.

In my early twenties, I was misdiagnosed with a brain tumor. On hearing the diagnosis, my first thought was that I was so glad that my old flame ran away as this would just be another crappy drama to see me through. He sure dodged a bullet when he left.

That year, I sent him a birthday card, thinking it would be my last opportunity to thank him for saving my life. I was careful to pick a bland card that just celebrated the fact he was born and did not write anything in it, I just signed my name. At the time, I was appreciating every day I had left and was grateful that he had given me five extra years to smell the flowers. I figured when he saw my obituary, he would know what that was all about.

Of course, when months passed and my condition had not worsened, the doctors ran more tests and realized that I did not have a brain tumor. Then, I was really embarrassed for contacting him.

When I realized that I had more time, I tried to keep myself too busy to have time to think. I got a job, went to school, and got married.

All the while, the dreams of him persisted. I was actually hypnotized not to see his face in my dreams. It did not work, probably because people still speak of him.

My first boyfriend was legendary for his fashion sense. He was very unique (like most of us in the 80's were). Most of my male friends were jeans and t-shirt jock types, so they failed to understand my boyfriend's unique, yet expressive, fashion sense. To me, though, he was better looking and hotter than any rock star my girlfriends were fawning over. That's the truth of it.

A decade after our break-up, my then husband and I were on our way home from the hospital with our new born daughter. I was tired, cranky, and needed sleep. We drove by a group of young men uniquely dressed and my spouse made a rude comment about how my ex-boyfriend dressed. My spouse knows many of my friends from high school, so, in a sense - he knows all those secrets that I thought would die upon my graduation.

His comment upset me. Invoking my former boyfriend's name in such a negative fashion wasn't very nice either. My irritation combined with a lack of sleep led me to take an incredibly sharp tone with the man.

My spouse was quickly informed that he "will never speak ill of [my first love] again in my presence. If it were not for [my first love] I would not be here, we would not be married, and [my spouse] would not have this child!"

He has never said a bad word about him since. My spouse has told me, though, that he incident reassured him that I will never betray him or allow another human being to speak ill of him after we divorce. He's right. Trashing your ex is a red-flag: it means that you'll eventually trash a current love.

Thinking about it, no one ever has a bad word to say about my first love in front of me. Relatives will ask about him once in a while. I have one relative who laments that my former boyfriend was the only person that I ever listened to. Well, he did make a lot of sense. I listen to good advice.

Over the years, my first love has become less real to me. He was considered a figure in my imagination that inspired me to succeed in whatever I do. If someone cared enough about my life, the least I could do is to try to make something of it. The truth is, he could never be in the way of the things that I do because he is the inspiration.

Well, he seemed to be a figment of my imagination locked away in my memory. That is, until we actually met again. I still do not know what to think about the confusing cascade of emotions that were brought up the day I first heard his beautiful voice after 22 years.

I do not know why God would bring him into my life right when the walls around me are collapsing. All I know is that the last thing I want to do right now is feel. I want to be numb and free of the pain of a marriage that crumbled along time ago. Numbness was my escape. Now, I remember what love feels like. I don't like it, it hurts to want for something that is just out of reach.

Right now, love is pain. I do not want to feel it. I was happy in the fact that the first man I loved was just an unreal ghostly memory embedded in the deepest part of my psyche. Then, God brought living proof that I can still feel love (and a few inappropriate unnamed feelings) for a real human being.

I do not know what to make of it, darn it. I just want to run away and hide in a freezer somewhere.

Life is so weird.

The Real Siegfred

I promised someone an honest photo of myself as the profile picture is a little over one year old. This photo was just emailed to me.

It taken a few weeks ago at a Rave.  My daughter and her friends thought that listening to rhythmic dance music would inspire me to come up with a better sound for my own CDs.

It was a lot of fun. The music was great. The atmosphere was fun. It seemed like a good idea at the time but I really felt out of place. I must've been the oldest person in the house!

A young man actually ID'd me....AWWWW....What a compliment!!

After a few hours, I ditched the place to go hang with the old fogies at Oktoberfest . At 1: 30 a.m., I snuck back to the Rave and pretended to stay all along.

My bad...

Tomorrow I get to hear a few local bands at a neighborhood bar. Maybe someone can snap my photo after a gallon of soda pop and two sips of beer. Betcha I'll look drunk.

Wanna see that one?

Maybe someone can get a good shot of me staring around the bassists' crotches. I stare so much at the bass guitars, that I've been accused of lusting after the band members.

There is only one bass player that I've ever stared at. As a kid, I did had a crush a bass player from my home town (he's famous now, so I won't invoke his name): my crush affected me so much, I was afraid to take lessons from him. I missed the chance of a lifetime because this man can play incredibly well!

You see, I don't stare at the men. I stare at the guitars because I'm trying to figure out what they do that makes them sound so good! They play the cheap guitars and make 'em sound great! I've owned a few very expensive bass guitars and made them sound like someone threw them into a brick wall (and that was after I spent many hours practicing my Twang...Twang...Thud...Twang... just kidding...well, kinda...).

Man, I'd say I'm jealous of 'em but I'm too much of a fan. There is a reason these people do their thing so well - they've got talent and drive. I'm lucky to get to hear them. You should hear them, too.

Love ya,

Siegfred

Dirty Laundry

If you have the cojones to challenge someone in a court of law, make sure that you don't mind other people taking a gander at your dirty underwear and smelly holey socks.

.

All of your secrets are going to leak out

and become

part of the public record.

.

.

****

Someone challenged my estranged husband in court and tried to use a small tidbit of information from this blog to question his character. It was a perfect quote (even though the witness did not mention the blog at all - she said she heard it from him first hand...I don't think so.... I know where it came from). The stupid thing is that the proceedings were tape recorded and her perjury is now part of the public record!

With her testimony, part of it centering on someone she never met (my career aspirations, my marital status, my physical health, and my educational status), she revealed quite a bit of dysfunction within her organization and, well, even herself.

Goodness.....

Next time, she should call me as a witness rather than embarrass herself.

.

Mind you, they won't call me as a witness. It is an issue that has nothing to do with me, yet they keep invoking my name. I complained, as a citizen, about a city practice. This led to the harassment of my estranged spouse (after a city employee in the legal department threatened to embarrass him if I took my complaint further. Funny, my complaint had nothing to do with him but a City HR procedure that made little sense).

It's not a pretty picture. Now, they've given me more to complain about. No one at the city is answering my letters (but members of the legal department will call and demand information about my estranged spouse or they'll visit the house unannounced and stuff paperwork in the mailbox). I feel harassed. The woman that came to my house yesterday told me that there was no one that I could file a formal complaint with about the behavior of her supervisor.

Really??? That's not true: there is always a bored reporter somewhere just dying for a scoop. Do they want me to take it that far?

Trust me, if I have to open my mouth

I'm going to make it count.

Really, it's best for these people if I need not speak. The more they harass people, the more documentation they give and the more information that one can mail to the regulatory agencies which oversee them and share with people who may be interested in the issues surrounding the original complaint.

Some people are not very smart.

On another note, I know that many female bloggers are silenced due to bullying (or sexual threats - I don't get too many of those, it usually stops when I ask the pervert what is missing in his life - is it love? happiness?, or the ability to achieve and maintain an erection?)

I just want to end by sharing that I will not stop blogging. There is no reason to be bullied into keeping quiet as I've got nothing to hide. To tell the truth, the people with this organization may need to learn to keep their mouths shut and behave in a less suspicious fashion if they want to keep their own secrets.

Maybe, though, I should thank them for reading my boring blog.

Thanks....

I guess...

Maybe, I'll get to read about them in the

papers some day!

Edit 4/19/09: the harassment continues... but I am too uncomfortable to share the experience I had with the city in the wee hours of the morning. Luckily, there are other avenues to take care of this issue.