Happy Boxing Day

Siegfred's Christmas Wish

Nuts and chocolate, what more can a girl want?

Oh, maybe something else to suck on, too....




May your hunger for sweets be satisfied this holiday season,

S.

Edit: 12/20/09

I just saw a picture of my mid-life crisis crush in a bunny costume and broke out into this song....

It goes a lil' somethin' like this.

"The bunny, the bunny.....oooh, I love the bunny....

I didn't eat my salad or my bread.....just the bunny...

(followed by the sound of evil laughter)!"

Sigh....

Guess what that poor soul is going to he's going to hear next time I run into him?! He is sooo lucky I can't leave a comment!

Ha!

Edit Christmas '11: Okay universe, when I said I wanted nuts, I didn't mean crazy people...

and,

uh,

when I wanted something to suck on, I didn't want to be played for a sucker. 

Thought I should clarify that thought. 

Fluffy Bunny Activism

There are certain causes that deserve the fluffy bunny approach -

ending hunger by donating to food banks,
helping others feel good about themselves by donating services and goods to the shelters,
and donating toys to Toys For Tots,

When I'm asked to do those things, I can be a fluffy bunny.

Now, when someone tells me to play nice with a bunch of politicians who are known liars,

well...

when I'm asked to do those things, this is the only kind of fluffy bunny I can be.

Giving favors to people who are corrupt would make me the kind of fluff bunny that they use in the porn industry. Besides, I'm not into rewarding bad behavior.

Cheerio!

S.

An Honest Political Quote

"Politics gives guys so much power that they tend to behave badly around women. And I hope I never get into that."

–Bill Clinton,

to a woman friend while he was a Rhodes scholar at Oxford

Siegfred Catharsis...

If you come to my door and hear

this bass line,
this tenor sax solo,
or a soprano voice singing these lyrics with a few keyboard strokes....

Run!

It means I am still pissed.

Watch out!

When a Problem Comes Along - Whip It

I'm in an incredibly bad mood.

This rivals my legendary PMS attack of '89 when I beat the crap out of two drug dealers who pummeled my baby sister in front of a child. That was bad. I smacked those unfeeling nut-jobs silly, kicked them in the crotches and had to have my gay friends pull me off the a$$holes.
My hope is that they felt the bruises when they came down off their high.
I cursed them verbally. Back in the day, I knew nothing of magick yet I wished they would stop annoying the crap out of people in the neighborhood. My wish came true. One man was shot dead within a few months because he was caught in a drug deal gone wrong. The other went to prison for, what he claims, was a murder he didn't commit. Don't think too much of his claim, all men in prison say that!

Still, my current anger rivals the anger I felt that sunny April day.

Some moron wants me to stay with him and swear off talking to other men. In a nutshell, we are stuck in a spiraling negative conversation akin to...

1.We have a problem of a financial nature.
2.He can't solve the problem.
3.He has to solve the problem because he's a man.
4.I cannot solve the problem because I am a woman.
5.If I try to solve the problem, he's going to interfere because
I am a woman.

Go to point three and repeat....Divorce is infinitely cheaper than dealing with stupidity.

Sigh....Yes, stupid men crack me up to the point of needing medication. Can't ya tell?

I'd be okay if it were one stupid man. It seems that today I have the talent for lowering the IQ of every male I speak to by 50 points.
I've had recent correspondence with a city councilman. It appears that they're trying to come up with 90 million dollars to pay a developer to build here, so they're shutting down libraries and such. Yeah, this is the super short version but even after considering the arguments of the city, one will realize that this is the truth of what is going on.

The City Council is robbing the poor (and middle class) to give to the rich.

They're also letting developers tax people. Let me briefly explain, in this city there is a new custom of allowing the developers get to add on a .5% tax (or mandatory fee) to any sale. The total amount, including the .5% PIF tax is then taxed by the City. 

The sick part of this tax/fee is that few people know about it.

This tax is insane. It hurts the poor. The poor are getting screwed in this economy, especially with the new and unfair fees the City has put into place. This is a custom that needs to die a quick death before it becomes permanently engraved in the culture.

Stupid taxes (even those called fees) hurt the poor more than the wealthy. I'm pissed. I'm going to take this public - I don't know how just yet but, trust me, the perfect avenue usually prevents itself. This City Councilman defended this city's nickel and diming of the poor. I'm sorry. He seems like a good man caught up in groupthink stupidity. Just 'cuz the other city councilmen support raping the citizenry, doesn't make it right.

He's not the only brilliant mind caught up in groupthink.

I brought this issue up to the local tax activism group. They don't want to deal with it because the politician members think that the public is uninformed and unable to be educated. In fact, if I understood correctly, members of the group were to stay silent on the issue.

Hmmm....I think someone bought off one of the politicians in the group. It's just a gut feeling. I could be wrong. I don't know.

I do know that politicians temper their language and speech to win favors from others. Activists and advocates create awareness about problems and push for solutions. I'm not a politician...I'm an advocate. I can't stay silent about an injustice that will only continue to grow.

I'm done with that group. If they're too scared to educate the public....they can shake in their boots by themselves. To be quite honest, one of the more prominent members is fond of saying that women are emotional. That is not true, only 60% of women respond to emotional appeals; 55% of men do, too. Sexism is probably one reason why you don't see many women among their ranks.

Traditionally, women are the ones who have to deal with most of society's problems (we take the lower paying jobs, we do most of the child care, we provide most of the volunteer labor, we care take for the elderly, and we pay a higher percentage of our income in taxes then men). If we are emotional, dude, it is because we get less sleep than you do!

I'll let the stupid men ignore the real problems. It's all about introducing ideas into the collective...nothing more...nothing less. Education creates awareness and awareness is the first step to reducing resistance to change!
Ah, but I'm not a politician. I'm an advocate. That is the problem, isn't it? We come from two very different world views.

I guess a politician's spots never change....

it's about marketing rather than ideology or serving the people.

I have no time for such horse sh!t and wish them the best of luck marketing their crap!

Mark my words, people who hurl poo indiscriminately and those who support those who fling it tend to slip up in it and get a tad bit smelly!

Babes, I am NOT doing your laundry!

Good luck with that!

S.

Nothin' but Hot Air

From politixcartoons.com

Fake Out

Visiting the local salon a few weeks ago, I discovered a multitude of interesting products; such as false nails, false eyelashes, silicon make-up, wrinkle filler (face spackle), bra inserts, novelty contact lenses, hair straighteners...the list goes on and on...
So, I had my hair straightened. I walked out of that place sporting silicon make-up and glued on eye-lashes.
I bought a top stuffer and had a huge rack.
It was fun! No one recognized me! Upon arriving home, I was mistaken for my twenty-year old daughter! That felt weird.
I decided to go out and party. A little attention can do an old lady a world of good.
Then, on the way to the party do you want to know what happened?
It started to snow!
Upon arrival at my destination, I found that my hair regained its curl and my eyelashes started to run. My make-up melted off. My bra slipped and my "boobs" were lop-sided!
I looked like hell.
Well, I wanted attention.....uh....just not that kind of attention!
Goodness.
Oh, and people did recognize my curly red-hair and messed up make-up! That was a tad bit embarrassing.
I learned my lesson!

Fakers never prosper.

Oh, there is one little tiny thing I learned that day, too. Men are turned on by smeared mascara and messy hair. I don't get it but they do seem to like that - maybe it reminds them of waking up after a night of hot, steamy hugging.
I don't know....
I do know that lop-sided fake boobs, well, don't seem to turn them on as much.
Cheerio!
S.

Bizzare Hypnopompic Dream

Hypnopompia refers to the altered state of consciousness that occurs shortly after awakening while one is beginning to return to waking consciousness.

It is said that many precognitive dreams occur during this state.

Today, I had a vision, so to speak. A scene played out in front of my open eyes. I pray there is nothing to it but last time this happened, I saw police officers in mourning.

Sadly, several police officers were murdered that day.

This time, I'll share what I see. Maybe if I tell someone, nothing will happen.

Upon opening up my eyes I saw revolutionary soldiers, dressed in blue, digging their own graves.

Let's hope there is nothing to this. Subconsciously I must be worried about our the sovereignty of the United States. If you're a patriot, Libertarian, Constitutionalist, or Militia Member....be careful*.

I pray that Obama does not sign the Copenhagen treaty.

In any event, I'll be watching the news with keen interest at several points today. Something strange is in the wind.

Cheers,

S.

* The dream could refer to someone I recently met. It is a funny but sad story.

I did meet one incredibly naive third party political candidate last week. I know his campaign will unveil his naivety and embarrass his entire party. I'm going to try like heck to get this guy research to prove that he is looking at something the wrong way.

So far, I'm failing in my attempts at education. I only have a undergraduate degree in social science, experience working with crime victims at the DA's office, a stint as a volunteer social worker, and hold a master's degree in psychology. He may not think I know what I'm talking about. The best education, though, may not come through journals and books.

There are good hearted people who fail to understand psychopathology and assume that every criminal who claims innocence is indeed innocent. They assume that everyone is upfront and honest. That isn't true.

So, I tried to tell him a story. I told him of my time living in downtown Denver.

When I tell people the truth of my upbringing. They stare at me in disbelief. I was an orphan. The court handed my sister and I to a relative who wanted to collect the government social security stipend but not care for us.

My sister and I ended up on the street. We lost touch. Luckily, fate brought amazing people into my life who would not let me fail. Some of these people were individuals of ill repute, homeless people, other orphans, even a couple of criminals who had no where else to go.

In those years, I met my fair share of psychopaths. Two made my life a living hell before they were arrested. These people could literally beat the crap out of anyone and look calm as heck while the police arrive. Psychopaths are back-stabbing, lying, abusive @$$holes who can rip you off, beat you to shreds and make it look like they are the victims.

Things are not always as they appear. To illustrate this point, one man recently murdered four cops up in Washington State. He had a fairly long rap sheet. It appeared that Governor Mike Huckabee had pardoned him from a 108 year prison sentence.

Voters, where ever you are, please take my advice

NEVER VOTE FOR ANY CANDIDATE FOR GOVERNOR WHO PROMISES TO PARDON ANYONE WHO ASKS!

.

Trust me, there are politicians who have the gall to make such a bizarre and short-sighted assertion. How do you tell someone with a posh middle-class background, who hasn't had to visit a homeless shelter, that things are not always as they appear? How do you explain mental illness and the desperation of poverty to a well-to-do individual with no background in social work, criminal justice, or psychology?

.

Money can be a curse in that it blinds you to the real world. Adversity can be a blessing in that you learn to see more of the harshness and the beauty of the world.

.

Before ending this I must say that after my parents died, I met my fair share of angels, too.

Thanks Tom. Thanks Jim. I never would have finished high school without you. Where would I have been without your support? I shudder to think about that.

May your kindness be returned a thousand-fold. You guys are great!

Love ya,

S.

Romance or Comedy?

Okay, I recently wrote that I wasn't sure if I was in a relationship. That is probably the wrong question. If one were to ask if I had a relationship, I would answer 'yes, I do.' I have many.

I have a relationships with my friends.

I have a relationship with the neighbor's cat.

I have a relationship with God.

I just wasn't sure if I had an intimate relationship. I am married but marriage does not equate to intimacy. We've been discussing divorce for awhile. As of now, we still share the same house until the market improves. I still do the laundry and I should know if I'm washing his skivvies there must be some type of relationship.

Maybe we have an old friendship without benefits and a house that doesn't smell of dirty laundry. Or maybe I just have a sparing partner who inspires me to piss off local politicians. Together we are a bizarre combination of hypnotic, vicious, persuasive, and comedic.

I don't know.

Confused, as I've been, I asked him if we were in a relationship. This isn't the first time I asked him this question.

In 1992, he announced to the world he loved me but forgot to tell me. His auntie, his cousin, his sister and mother called my apartment on numerous occasions and told me never to see him again. At the time, we were best friends. I had no clue that he liked me. After several of these phone calls, I asked him if we were in a relationship.

He bought me naughty underwear, two sizes too small.

Every morning I would find roses in my car.

In 1999, his mother was overtly angry that I decided to go to graduate school. In her view, only bad little married Jezebels were educated. Unmarried women can be educated but her son's wife had no business doing anything that didn't equate to being her slave. After one of her diatribes, my mother-in-law gave her son an ultimatum - get rid of your wife or we won't speak to you anymore. He was hurt and rarely spoke to me. He refused to talk to his mother. His relatives would call and scream at me for not forcing him to call his mother. It hurt. I was ready to leave. I asked him if we were in a relationship.

He bought me a ton of porn and kinky books.

Fast forward to 2009. I caught him lying to me about a multitude of things. I caught his former boss spreading lies about me (must have come from him or his family as I've never met this woman). Right now, I am unsure if we are in a relationship. He still misses his family. I'm feeling pressured to leave. We both are lonely as heck. I asked him if we are still in a relationship.

He bought me feminine hygiene products!

They were wrong brand and wrong size but, there they were, sitting in a shopping bag on the kitchen table. I tried not to lose it in a fit of laughter as he explained that only a married man could be seen sporting such items in a check out lane!

This is too funny!

.

If you're a married guy - let me warn you not to try this one at home. There is a very good reasons for this. It is never safe nor amusing to assume that a married woman who wants to go for your throat is on the rag. You may really have pushed your luck somehow.

Still it is funny what passes for romance as time goes by!! There are days I really want to see just how the gears in that man's brain turn!

***

He just joined the Libertarian party; maybe if I stick around a little longer, he'll buy me a gun!

Well, maybe not so long as he feels the need to buy girlie things for me....

he may be too afraid!

Unrequited Love - Marriage is Irrational

My lesson of the day is that marriage is irrational. It is, in my experience, it is best described as an exercise in unrequited love.

It is irrational to think that a married person can expect honest communication. It is irrational to expect fidelity. It is irrational to allow someone access to your assets and not expect them to be stolen. It is irrational to want to live in a relationship with compassion and understanding. It is irrational to expect someone to try to listen to your point of view or problem solve. It is irrational to want to have the kindness and love shared returned.

I did my best.
If all of our efforts to love our returned to us then why am I so alone?
I must be incapable of love.

People are people. They are going to do what they are going to do. We have no business expecting anything from anyone else. If I want to be kind, that is my business. I have no right to expect that it will ever be returned.

I guess it is true that women are irrational.

At least, they are irrational so long as they believe in marriage.

And, do you know what is equally irrational?

The men who think that women have to stay in bad relationships despite the pain.

Ex Sex

What the heck is romantic about trying to get under the covers with an estranged lover?

Nothing....

Here is a sampling of lyrics sung by a songwriter/artist who wrote a song about seducing his ex without trying to work through their stuff...

It's gonna be a cool night
Just let me hold you
By the firelight
If it don't feel right
You can go

The man who sings this song has a name similiar to my ex. Perhaps there is something with the name. I don't know. My estranged spouse has made it clear that he wants me to be with him but I am not to think, feel, share, talk, solve problems or have a life of my own; I do find this quite humorous. This morning I was informed that I am an extension of him who should be able to read his mind and do his bidding.

Well, then, if I am an extension of him akin to his right hand...he can command his hand to take care of his needs. It is the same thing, right?

Having no thoughts, no voice, no opinions and no place makes me feel slightly less valuable than a blow up doll.

Last night, he sent me a naughty poke via Facebook. When he approached me last night with the intention of doing the same thing in real life, I mentioned the hammer under my bed and asked him to leave.

He did.

What is it with ex sex?

I was married as a teenager. It was a very short 18 month stint in which the groom proclaimed that I was "a better mistress than a wife" and he wanted a divorce. He then proceeded to marry his beautiful mistress. They are still together. It pains me to hear them complain about each other. Karmic justice can be painful.

Four years ago, while visiting and showing off the backseat of his new car, my ex husband winked at me and I realized that he meant what he had said so many years ago. I think he was embarassed by that exchange - he never came to the house again at a time when my spouse was not at home. Over the years, there were other times when he was more openly naughty about his intentions but he was usually drunk so they may or may not count. No, I never had the heart to tell his mistress turned Mrs.

Honestly, though, maybe Roscoe is right. I'm a horrible wife. Men are only interested in me on a sexual level once we break up. That makes no sense.

I don't know why that would be.

Sigh....

Last August, I wanted to go out to California to study Erotic hypnosis. My ex and I were in the break up stage of our on again, off again marriage and I was confused. I mean really, are we a couple or not?
I don't know.
So, if I am tempted by someone else I may or may not be cheating. I try to avoid other men to an extent that I end up giving up things that I want to do when someone who has expressed an interest in me will be in attendance. The last thing I want to do is to hurt anyone.
Men can smell desperation. I can lie and say that I'm okay but men always seem to know the truth.
Last summer, I realized that going to the beach, near the sea that birthed Aphrodite, with men who share a similiar passion for hypnosis while studying the uses of trance on improving the sexual experience may or may not be a good thing for someone who is lonely as heck...
Would a starved vegan be tempted to eat huevos when presented in an eye-catching fashion?
Trust me, if not one of those men in the group liked me, I am sure there were others somewhere within 50 miles who would have been somewhat interested in learning new techniques. It is a big city and I understand that my current crush would have been near that area.
Going to California would have been a disaster waiting to happen.
Luckily, I was called to jury duty the same day the class was set to start, so I took that as an omen and would up irritating a judge rather than working myself up in sexual frustration.
Last month, I ordered the Erotic hypnosis training videos. I had originally planned on watching them today. I may or may not do this now out of my fear that I will allow myself to wallow in self-pity. I know I will give pause to think the most negative thoughts in the world; they always start off with
If only I had a....
I wish I could find....
What if.....
That is why I am blogging rather than watching hightly anticipated videos. Maybe I'll take a hot bath, some valarian and L-Tyrosine before loading up the DVD player.
Love ya,
Siegfred

On Chivalry

The truth is that chivalry only exists because

deep down

men are afraid of women!

What I should have been for Halloween...

I should have dressed up as a Blackwater Mercenary with the habit of bending misogynistic politicians over expensive desks while holding scary huge phallic devices.

Instead I just wore my lil' black dress with a black hat while wearing my freaky jewelry sent to me by the family of a deceased gypsy. Yes, on Halloween, I dressed as I do everyday...like the old W*tch I am. I would have dressed up like an old bat (my true persona) but I couldn't find a huge set of black wings.

.

I certainly hope the wishing spelled ring that I've been wearing since Halloween isn't real because you don't want to know what I wished while listening to David Vitter's henchmen shhhhhhhhh the woman in this video.

.

Some LA politician may want to get some holy water, just to be on the safe side.

.

Cheerio!

Etymology

There is a reason they call it Congress: People are always getting screwed.

~S. Davis

quoted in some book somewhere

(I'll post when I find the citation)

Creepy Ken Calls....

Friday night...

I'm all alone.

Working....

And my old cell phone keeps ringing. Only three people in the entire world have that number: It is the Siegfried ultra quiet emergency cell phone. It rarely rings - last time it rang was August 9th....and that, I believe, was an @$$ dial.

Well..it's been ringing off the hook all night tonight.

Some drunk ol' guy keeps calling and texting...
Looking for a booty call
with some chick named Barbie.

I'm not Barbie.

He doesn't believe me.

I have his name.
I have his number.

I am soooo tempted to flirt with him, get him riled up and promise to send my photo.

Does anyone know where I can get a photo of a naked man with a beard?

That ought to turn him off!

Cheers!

Siegfred

Okay, I guess I can just turn off my old phone. There is no sense in traumatizing a young man. There really is no sport in that.

Sigh...

Siegfred's Male Marital Happiness Scale

A woman can always tell how happy a married man is in his current relationship based upon the compliments she receives from that man.

For instance, a compliment from a man on a woman's brand new tight fitting sweater and clingy jeans indicates an unhappily married man.
On the other hand, a man who compliments the similarities between a woman's sneeze and that of Kathleen Sebelius is a happily married man.
Sigh....







In case you missed the Sebelius Sneezing Lesson: :

And you thought it was Prada....

A fun quote I found while perusing the Wall Street Journal website...

Damn, the devil wears dollar signs!!

~MikeyC

Dance of Destruction

Originally this blog was meant to share some of my weird one-liners. I actually have a friend who collects the strange things I say for a play he is writing. I promised him that I won't blog about those things that he wants to use. So, I quickly ran out of things to say.

This did turn into a way to keep my family and friends informed of some of the strange things going on in my life. I'm not really estranged from them but I don't like dealing with some of the crazy stuff. I certainly don't know how to explain my personal life, so I stay quiet.

It is easy for me today I am speechless. I am losing my voice. It is weird.

On Tuesday, I decided to take my ex back. I was really going to give it a try. I never had the chance to tell him. I never even had the chance to hug him.

We began fighting, over stupid things.

People who live together need to talk about mundane things like;

• who is going to do the bulk of the household chores now that one of us is bruised to the hilt and can barely walk?
• do I need to relinquish my vehicle for his appointments one the days I'm away from home?
• can I plan on working at my office on the weekends or am I expected to stay at home with the children?

• do I have to attend his uncle's 80th birthday party or am I banned because I'm an out-law?
• If I go, will I be harassed, hit, or abused? If I don't, will I be harassed, hit, or abused?

Now, I need to qualify that last line.  He has never hit me or threatened it. I cannot say the same for members of his extended family. Last time he went an outing from his side of the family, he returned and became incredibly nasty towards me. It was in '07 and his comments still sting (he told me to see other men and took to calling me Mrs. Erickson and, no, it was not meant as hypnotist flattery...it was an indicator of jealousy towards an ex-boyfriend).

Aside from realizing that I had to get rid of anything given to me by men named Erickson, I don't know what I am supposed to do.

The problem is that I don't know my role.

I asked my ex.

The answers are nonsensical.

Did you know that...

• women are stupid so men don't have to listen to them?
• women talk just to hear themselves talk?
• women let people put ideas in their heads?

I can't think of the others. It is too painful. Why are these the responses? I need to know what my role is in the relationship. What bills do I pay? What are my responsibilities? When can I work? What does he expect? What does he want?

He pushes me away. He must not want me. He claims that he does and wants me to be close to him.

I wondered why he does that.

I have a few postcards that he sent to me early in our relationship. He'd send them to me before we really began dating with lines from various songs he considered romantic.

One postcard stands out, now....

It had a line from an old Journey song.

I get the joy of re-discovering you.
~Faithfully

Is that the dance?

Do some men actually push their mates aside with crappy drama only to try to draw them back by finding a solution to the problem they created?

If I were to give one the actual steps to the dance, it would be

Three steps back - one step forward.

I asked him if the fighting was about having the possibility of making-up.
He said "maybe."

I felt ill.

So......

It has to end now. God willing, I'll find the resources I need to end this evil now.

On another note, he might be right, that Tax Audit Supervisor did put ideas in my head.

A smart women, though, investigates bothersome ideas by asking her spouse whether or not the workplace gossip was true or contained snippets of the truth that he found of concern (especially the part about me needing to get a real job).

He yelled at me.

Sigh...

On another note, I think I have found a third party to take several of the complaints about the city and investigate them. The domestic violence complaint though is still falling on deaf ears. I tell you, that since that woman claimed I was battered, my spouse has become more violent in relation to me.

I'm becoming very afraid. What starts as verbal abuse and intimidation can easily escalate into full blown physical assault.

I have a sense that I need to leave him . How can I leave him if he is unemployed? I'm trying to be as nice and fair as possible but it isn't looking possible.

I've been through this before. If a man beats the crap out of you, the police will compel you to leave and the judge will give you a restraining order.

Then you file for a divorce thinking you are doing the right thing for all involved.

Then the magistrate handling the divorce will declare that domestic violence does not exist and throw out your restraining order, give your ex your new home address, and instruct him to pick up the children at your residence at a time most convenient for him (written so vaguely that your ex will demand you leave work, drag the kids out of school, and have her ready within an hour). The court custody evaluator and/or GAL will admonish you for choosing to have a child (aka not having an abortion), for "breaking up your family", for leaving an abusive marriage after less than eighteen months (should I have stayed longer?), and having so many personality issues (i.e. dependent personality disorder) that you drove your ex to "drink".

Sometimes I think the system is more abusive than the men who batter. I still have a copy of that custody evaluation in my office to remind me why psychotherapists cannot share personal information without consent, why one cannot diagnose contrary to the DSM (look up dependent personality disorder - it does not apply in cases of domestic violence), or make assumptions mental illness without proper education, training, and time, and how much invalid labels, gossip and hearsay actually impact the lives of others.

By the way, I won sole custody after my ex threatened to rape his girlfriend to create another child because I wouldn't let him see our daughter on demand (noon on a school/work day with five minutes notice). Lucky for me, he said that in front of the GAL and the judge.

I will never, ever be so lazy in my work with the public. Ms. D. (the custody evaluator) taught me the importance of ethics, honestly, and education. People get hurt by our ignorance.

The woman who did that custody evaluation nineteen years ago is still doing them in Arapahoe County. She supposedly has a P.hD. in psychology and runs that particular department. Several years ago, I met the head of a men's rights group who wanted information about having her removed from her post. I tried to help.

I told them my story.

My ex beat me.
My ex claimed that I beat him.

This custody evaluator thought it was a great idea to have us meet in front of her office together alone. She gave us both the same wrong address. She was no where to be found.

I had to find a phone book and get the correct address and walk three blocks to her office with my ex following me. I was shaking by the time I arrived. Then she interviewed us together. I remember being too afraid to talk that day.

The custody evaluator was betraying her lack of understanding about domestic violence. It doesn't matter who the perpetrator was. It was a volatile situation and she did not care about the "victim". If there was the slightest possibility that I beat my ex, why would she leave him alone on a doorstep with me? Why would she put us together alone? Why would she interview us together?

In reality, she left me alone with my batterer and interviewed us in a venue where I was uncomfortable saying anything without my ex's consent. So, anything he said basically went unchallenged.

Dr. D. still works for Arapahoe County and still does custody/parenting time evaluations. I feel sorry for anyone leaving an abusive spouse here. I know that my experience with her is the sole reason that I am still sitting on the separation paperwork.

I'm praying for a solution. It will happen soon.

I should also say that my ex wasn't Satan. He wasn't evil. He was confused and in pain from a lifetime of childhood abuse. He drinks. It is killing him. I love him enough to pray that he finds whatever he needs. In my eyes, he is still a kind soul. He tried to spare my little sister the childhood pain he endured as a child and worked to adopt her off the streets of Denver. His efforts probably did help get the attention of social workers, who put her into a foster home headed by a pimp...but...

he tried. I will always respect Roscoe for that. May the years he have left be happy ones.

I'm also praying everyone gets what he or she deserves (curse or not, I don't know...you tell me...).

Love ya,

S.

Dad wasn't insane....

I had intended to spend today working in my new office in my home town but, lo and behold, the key does not work. I ended up spending the day messing around.

I spent time in the coffee shop that reminded me of my high school sweetheart. Luckily, I ended up talking to the beautiful waitress about all sorts of philosophical matters. That was a fun way to spend a few hours.

I went to the guitar shop and wished I played well enough to justify buying a Martin. I found some snapshots of beautiful vintage bass guitars, like a red 1964 Gibson Thunderbird.

Ooooohhhh....

I can't say the guy I dated as a teen was my first love. Sorry, dude, my first love was a Peavey.

Speaking of old flames, I kept my promise of breaking sticks in order to free his soul. I know I blog about this quite a bit but it is important to me.

My step-dad was Cherokee and he used to say that when one cannot forget another person, dreams about him all of the time, and feels his presence right before he shows up means she has not released his soul entirely.

Sometimes when we are in love, our partners care so much for us that they give us parts of their souls. When one doesn't get his or her entire soul back, both parties feel like they are missing a part of themselves. They lose their creativity. They may give up their music or give up their art. They feel depressed and lost.

It is not a good place to be.

I was told that if one party in a former relationship is having trouble getting over it and is reminded constantly of the other, it is highly likely the other person is having the same problem. I ignored that. Unfortunately, I learned that dear old Dad was right: I'm not the only one having intrusive thoughts of a love long lost.

Okay, maybe it never got lost. It just mutated into something awkward and nondescript. I was hoping for friendship but I doubt that could ever be as there is far too much emotion there.

Still, if I love the man, I will do the right thing whatever that may be. Freeing him seems like the right thing to me.

I was told to go into nature and break a stick while praying for his soul to be released. I've been doing that for many years. I started having nightmares of him three years ago, so I stepped up this activity. I've been going to my old hometown every weekend for three years to break sticks and pray for him.

I spend so much time there that I've made a few friends in the area. It has begun to feel like a second home. I still giggle that my keister can be found on the home page of the area's tourist website (hint: purple shirt, pony tail, and blue jeans).

This is insane.

So, today I sat in the park where I fell for my old friend some twenty-three years ago and had a thought. I began to think that this stick-breaking procedure was bunk and that Dad must have meant something different.

After much pondering, I wondered if he meant that I needed to find a new stick attached to someone with an exotic foreign sounding name (maybe Pablo, Flavio, or Sergio) in order to get over it. Then, I wondered, perhaps Allen needs to become fascinated with a super hot tunnel?

If that is the answer, I don't want to know. Godspeed my friend.

Eureka!!
That had to be the solution!

Just to be sure, I ran a Google check on the terms "soul retrieval, Shamanism, Stick" and found that other people claim that breaking a stick can break a soul damaging bond.

I guess Dad wasn't crazy after all.

So, that means that I'll be in my hometown every weekend breaking sticks until the dreams stop. And, in the meantime, I'll avoid men named Pablo, Paco and Sergio. I can't be in a relationship so long as I scream my old friend's name in the middle of the night.

Unless I can find a soul mate with his name. Well no, I usually scream very sad things and wake up in tears. So, it's not worth it. I'll just keep myself busy.

For my old friend, please be okay,.  Someone loves you (probably hundreds of someones are secretly pining for you). I mean that. I honestly had no clue how much I cared until I started having nightmares about you. Please, be careful and take care of yourself. Beautiful things are just around the corner. Keep your eyes open!

Love ya,

S.

P.S. I am tempted to post a photo of the puppy who is named after him...the dog is very, very fun and cute!

I once wished that I'd see you my old friend again to find out that he was okay. The day I made that wish I met the dog. So, I guess the good Lord grants wishes with a twist. I did get to meet a male with that name.

I am certain that the Creator has a wicked sense of humor.

Yes, God did eventually grant me the privilege of looking into that set of sea-blue eyes and learning first hand that my friend was alive, healthy, and prosperous. So, take heart, prayers are answered.....eventually.

That is why the stick-breaking and praying continue to this very day.

Soon....I feel it...it will be over for us both. It's about time!