Happy Yule

Today is my Christmas but I was so darn busy preparing for the Christian holiday that I totally missed my own celebration. 

It is a sad day.  I wanted to spend a day of great power cursing the heck out of people who drive me insane by harassing people I know, love, and/or admire. 

We had a local tax activist convicted of trumped up charges today.  I actually know people who were hauled into the distract attorney's office for depositions while lawyers tried to find dirt on this poor man. 

The Feds had checked into his taxes and ruled that he did nothing wrong.  The state followed suit and made crap up.  He now faces twelve years in prision for tax evasion.  The details seem sketchy to me. 

And, they don't harass activists out in my neck of the woods, do they? 

Sure, they do. 

They have police officers stand in your back yard on pagan holidays. 

When you report it, you look incredibly paranoid. 

Or, maybe the cop was hoping I would build a bonfire and run around naked for him. 

I'm old.  The girls hang.  I hurts when I run and kick them. 

Sorry buddy... this crone doesn't do that. 

Bureaucrats like to make us sound crazy but this fiction writing is crazier than anything they could say about me. 


It's a lot of fun to pretend to be nuts in order to keep nuts away.  The problem, though, is that this tactic doesn't work as much as I thought it would. 

Like attracts like. 

By acting insane, I bring more insane people my way. 

I think I am still trying to get the political energy out of my aura.  That group is comprised of so many nasty, filthy vampiric people.  I am no longer afraid of the sanguine as I have truly met real human blood-suckers. 

What in the hell did I do to bring these kind of abusive a-holes into my life?

This has led to me take a deep look at my relationships.  Twenty-five years ago, I swore off artists and musicians as relationship partners; I thought they had a lot of mood swings.  When they'd get pissy, they'd claim it was because they were passionate artists.  After a couple of these experiences and a date with a guy lusting after my 5-string Steinberger,  I started dating mechanics and accountants. 

Here's the deal.  The artists pout.  They create bizarre paintings and not very flattering portraits of you when they are angry. 

The musicians pout.  They create the most discordant sounds when irritated. 

They've never hit me. 

The mechanics and the accountants are physically, mentally, and financially abusive. 

I think I screwed up there.   If I could have done it differently, I would have married the creative guy who would let me hold the job so he could stay home and do his art on the computer or strum his guitar. 

Instead, I married the control freak who wanted to make me his live-in housekeeper.  That's what I am. 

I'm getting too chunky.  I wasn't build for a size 12 frame.  I miss being a size 5.  They say that women who marry obese men have a 37% chance of becoming obese.  That's true.  If we don't eat, we are unsociable.  The food that fills this house really isn't food; the crap we have is loaded with so many preservatives its a wonder that anyone in this house actually ages!!

I can't work out when he's home because the weight set is in the basement (where he lives).  I've gained so much weight since he lost his job at the city, I'm sick.  He was home a lot!!  Then, of course, I really do want a workout partner.

I know this guy who is trying to sell me on the case for consensual sex.  

He's hot...but...

NO! 

I'm married.  I'm fat.  I'm in love with some guy I chased off because he was whining about me and it cost him an interested and available woman.  And, that's another issue there.  My aunt today told me that everyone knew that this guy loved me based on the things he would write on my Facebook page. 

No way....I'm fat!  Five hundred extra calories a day is enough to keep the men away!

I'm seriously thinking about running away, changing my appearance, and changing my name.  That's how I ran away from him the first time twenty years ago

This time I'll just parade around in my size twelve natural fat suit.  That ought to scare everyone away.  

My weight is bugging me.  I saw myself on TV.  It's true.  The camera does add 10 pounds.  Those dinners I have to make coupled with the lack of a nookie workout adds the other 20. 

No worries.  I know people who actually think that the world will end a year from today, so if I don't clean up the mess I'm in ....the universe will take care of my problems for me. 

How fun is that? 

I guess I'll plan a huge party for 12-22-2012 just to be a rebel.  Wanna come?

Love,

S.