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.

An Honest Heathen

I never did give anybody hell.

I just told the truth, and they thought it was hell.

~Harry S. Truman

 

Look Around...Love Abounds...

You can shed tears that she is gone,

or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,

or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,

or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,

or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her only that she is gone,

or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind,

be empty and turn your back.

Or you can do what she'd want:

smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

~ David Harkins

Tear Down That Wall...

Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.

~Kahlil Gibran

Ooo eee, ooo ah ah

I spend a fair amount of time at Metaphysical fairs and shops. My step-father was Cherokee and those are the best places to buy stones, herbs, and the miscellany things that remind me of my childhood.

I meet the most interesting people at those venues. Several months ago, I met a woman selling a substance that she said could bring my true love to me for only ten bucks. I was intrigued to say the least.

They say that women marry their fathers. I did. My husband has a Pagan - Wiccan belief system. At this point in our relationship, things were bad. After sixteen years, we were estranged and had separate bedrooms on different floors in the house. In my mind, things could only get better.

I really thought that I had nothing to lose by buying the tiny package. I never thought it possible that my spouse was not my true love. Besides, I figured that I'd get my $10.00 worth if I told him it would bring us closer and I could get my home office back. I couldn't possibly lose, I thought, because his religious beliefs would cause the placebo effect to kick in.

A true love spell should work simply because he was conditioned to believe that it would. Right?

I had to try.

Upon arriving home, I gingerly removed the ribbon from the red velvet bag to find a vial of sand and carefully written instructions. I was to purchase a plain pink votive candle and sprinkle a bit of sand on it every night for seven nights and let the candle burn for seven minutes. On the final night, I was to let it burn completely out.

It further stated that my dreams would reveal my true love and he would visit me within a full moon cycle. Oh yes, clues as to the man's identity would show up in the remnants of the candle.

Cool...Whatever...Okay...

I didn't take her very seriously as I had my own agenda.

I made a big deal out of the spell kit at home. For a few months, I paraded the candle around my spouse. I told him that it was a lust spell that would make him as busy as he was in his early twenties. Oooh, la...la... I promised him the moon. I promised him the stars. I would've promised him anything he wanted at that point.

.

All right, that is not the whole truth. I'll admit to being a real brat, too. My spouse was informed that the spell invoked a Goddess that would make me feel compelled to grant his deepest desires should he trim the rose bushes in her honor and recycle his soda cans as not to ruin the Earth Mother's domain.

Oh, the wondrous power of suggestion...
can backfire if you abuse it.

.

To make it seem like a bigger deal, I decided to begin to burn the candle down on a Pagan holiday. I chose June 21, the Summer Solstice.

Well, my experiment didn't go very well. A hailstorm hacked he rose bushes to bits. The recycling is still my responsibility. We still have our rooms. We're still troubled and lonely.

Only this time, things are more confusing than ever. Within a period of six weeks, things got weirder and every time I turned around I discovered something new and disturbing about my relationship. I can't talk to anyone about it, because frankly, I still don't understand what is going on. Oh, well....sometimes, it's best not to know.

.

A little mystery can be a good thing, maybe...somehow...hmmm...

On the bright side, I have this very interesting candle remnant that burned in the shape of a pink heart. Burned inside the heart, is he word "OM".

(No, I didn't alter the photo to sharpen the image...I'm not very good with Photoshop).

OM...that must be my true love.

The good girl side of my psyche, the one that got me through a religious college, thinks that it is a message from God reminding me to love all of creation: I should appreciate everything ever created and love every soul that I meet. Everything and everyone is connected in a harmonious universal oneness.

Get those tuning forks out....in A everybody........

OMMMMMMMMMMMM

The bad girl side of my psyche, thinks that "OM" must be the nickname of my true love.

I can just hear myself saying things in a child-like tattle-tale voice, like...

.

"OMMM, you're going to get in trouble if you leave that company party early just to play doctor with me!"

.

Hey, an old lady can fantasize can't she....?

.

One things is for certain, the Universe never fails to amuse me.

God must have a wicked sense of humor.

***

P.S. I'm going to keep that candle in my office to remind me to love everyone...if anyone wants to take a gander at it, let me know. I'll show you.

****

Edit 10/5/08 - Oh, crap... Maybe there is something to this love spell business. Maybe it really does work. I've been reflecting upon the spooky coincidences that have occurred in my life since late June.

.

 

I guess it's time to go to church, now, and repent before my soul ends up on fire. Darn it...perhaps my nickname should be OMMMM....as in....OMMMM, you shouldn't cast spells that you don't understand. Or maybe, just maybe, the Good Lord shot me a warning about messing with his divine plan!

.

OMMMM S!

Live and Learn!

It's Your Song, My Friend...

Your song still needs a chorus

I know you'll figure it out

The rising of the verses

A change of key will let you out--

~David Byrne and Brian Eno

Strange Overtones

***

You hold they key, you've been holding it in all along. When we mumble and are afraid to shout our needs and desires to the world, our song sounds flat.

.

Remember, my friend, to open your mouth wide and use your voice to sing your truth. Sometimes it helps to raise your arms over your head and reach for what you want, too.

That's a good way for finding one's own true voice.

.

Remember, too, that it is not selfish to tell the world who you are and what you want.

It's liberating.

Besides, watching you get what you need will give permission to others to do the same.

.

P.S. "I'll harmonize" if it helps you reach for the stars. Someone once did that for me over 20 years ago and, trust me, that grove never went "out of fashion."

Forbidden Friendships and Pyromaniacs

We always long for the forbidden things, and desire what is denied us.

~Francois Rabelais

***

I just saw my former high school on the news. It appears that someone set a fire in one of the secluded stairwells. I'm sure the lil' turkey who set that fire wasn't the first to feel heat in those things.

I sure did.

Ahhh, memories.

I don't remember as much as I should about my not so glorious teenage years. I'll blame my age. I do have my diary that details tales of things that I rarely admit to doing.

Yes, I'm gonna burn that thing, eventually.

But I do remember a friend who used to meet me in the oddest of places (hidden stairwells, under the bleachers, empty hallways, and various nooks and crannies around the school).

His name was Curtis.  Curtis was hot, adorable, and black. He put me in mind of Alexander O'Neal and I was smitten from the start. The only thing I really remember is he the way he jumped when he saw me and tried to act all suave as I approached.

I enjoyed his company. He made me laugh. He was handsome, thoughtful, and fun. He was like a boyfriend should be, interesting with an intriguing body.

My relatives were incredibly racist and my Step-Father threatened to have him killed. In my 15 year old mind, that threat was credible. His family was just as un-supportive, they didn't want him with a white girlfriend either. I'm not even going to mention what some of our friends said.

We had many reasons to keep things under wraps and hidden which, over time, gave us ample opportunity to explore the school's less used spaces.

We couldn't tell our friends that we were seeing each other. That led to hurt feelings and, well, the end of our relationship - before it really ever began.

The human toll of racism in the form of lost friendships, lost ideas, lost opportunities,

and lost potentials is incalculable.

To tell the truth, when I toured my high school last year I lingered in the stairwells and remembered the ebony hottie that helped me heat them up.

Okay, he wasn't the only handsome guy I thought about but I'll keep that one to myself. I'll just say that, sometimes, the fires that burn the hottest are those we never fully explore.

Anyhow, if one is going to set fire to a building, don't use matches or a lighter. There are much better ways of setting things aflame.


Disclaimer for High School Kids: I guess I should state that as fun as romance is, uh, it is best to refrain from such activities at public schools given the current environment of surveillance and zero tolerance polices. It's a different world now.