I'm pretending to be everything the gossips in my life say I am in the hopes that I can create some kind of believable fictional character. The things I write about are based on the gossip and some of my life experiences. After five years, the only thing I've learned from this experience is that I can be quite the Trickster....thus the name of the blog. Love ya!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Called Out on Leap Year
I'm a hypocrite.
That's right.
I admit it.
A couple of weeks ago, I had a marriage protection activist call me out (quite publicly) for being a married Libertarian.
I don't believe in the government. I don't believe in marriage. Why in the world do I have the same last name as the father of my children?
She's right. Here is the deal, not everyone believes the same things I do.
I think that marriage is a couple's commitment to be taxed by the government. You get taxed to sign the license. You get taxed at a higher rate after getting married. The government claims parens patriae over any children that come from said union. When it ends, you agree to let the government meddle in your lives and tax you for the privilege of peace granted to you by a divorce.
I don't know why gay people want to get married but I'll fight for their right to get taxed at a higher rate if that is what they want. God made them the way they are. Who am I to tell them to be any different than the way God made them?
Marriage is not real.
I'm married because of a stupid promise I made 20 years ago. His family believed in marriage. He believed in marriage. I didn't. I had to actually be hypnotized to get through the ceremony. It wasn't stage fright. I talk in front of people all the time. I was afraid of being trapped in a marriage.
It's true... I don't believe in marriage.
Nope.
I never did.
People think that marriage is the cement that holds two people together. It isn't.
I learned this lesson the hard way over the past six years when I had dreams of an old flame getting hurt. I feared he would die in an accident. I prayed to see him alive. I had no idea how much I loved him until I looked into his eyes and realized how happy I was that he was still alive and doing fine. I left the room said a prayer of gratitude and he caught me. He looked at me and just smiled. I'm not sure he knew why I was so happy. He brought me so much joy just by being alive.
The look in my face must have betrayed the love I held for him. He was my best friend when I needed a friend the most. He was my first love.
Way back in '86, this dear friend and I would discuss marriage. He wanted to get married on leap year. I don't know why. I assume he hates having to remember special dates or he wanted to be different.
He was different, in a good way. He is a lot of fun, despite him pretending to be an old curmudgeon.
I always think of him on February 29th.
I also have a friend with his last name whose actual birthday is today. I'm so jealous of her because she's only eleven!!!
She looks great for being eleven!
This year the thoughts of my old friend was worse than the others.
I got in a little fight with the man in the basement over how my credit got freaked because I didn't pay the government to end this union sooner. I left before it came to blows and went to the library that I tried to have shut down.
Fighting with this ex makes me wonder how crappy I am as a love. I want to beg forgiveness from all my exes for being a snotty brat. Fighting with him makes me question my value as a human being.
In high school, I didn't want to marry my dear friend because I wanted to be a musician/celebrity. Now, I'm a horrid musician and, if I'm a celebrity, I am the local equivalent of Hitler....well, at least in the eyes of librarians.
It's a long story. The local government stole money from the libraries and gave it to the police department. They wanted a tax hike but didn't promise it to the libraries. I told the people the truth. The tax didn't pass. Now I'm evil.
Sadly, the local government is now stealing money from the police to give to the libraries but that's another story for another day.
Why don't politicians just tell you what the money is for and use it for that purpose and that purpose alone? If they don't do that. They are lying to you. I'm saddened by liars. I hate lies of omission the worst.
I hate politics. There is only one person in the world who knows how much I would prefer to volunteer than to run for office.
I miss my friend. I don't want to miss my friend. I was going somewhere with this but my wine/vodka heart mending elixir is messing with my brain cells.
What was the point of this post?
Hmmmmmmm....
OH, I Remember!!!
Marriage is not the glue that holds people together.
The glue that holds people together is UNCONDITIONAL LOVE!
Love....
It doesn't leave when its true or when its real.
It sticks around when it is honest, respectful and selfless.
It hangs out even when it's uncomfortable and we want to stop feeling it.
It is with us even when we find it confusing and confounding.
It lingers even in those times when it is inappropriate.
It allows us to speak truths we never would speak otherwise.
It forces us to pray for the happiness of the other. For that happiness is all that matters.
Love....all I want is for the happiness of those that I love.
The happiness of the one that I loved first. The one that taught me how to love.
I would go to the ends of the earth if I knew it would make him happy.
skyclad
It would be inappropriate to ask him to refresh my memory. Maybe if I hypnotize myself to go back to 1987....
maybe.....
well...
maybe it's better this way.
That way, if I run into him and a new future wife, I won't blush.
Yeah...I'm insane.
If I allow myself to love you, it will be until the last breath that I breathe. I'll stay with you if that is what you want. I'll leave if that is what you need.
The one I'm with now needs me to leave. Based on his behavior, he is begging for a divorce. He just doesn't want to be the bad guy. He wants me to leave him so he can maintain his reputation as a nice person. I get it.
I wish I knew where I belonged.
I'll figure it out.
Hopefully by the time I find the place I need to be and the one I should love, the dark clouds of my confusion will have lifted.
Love ya,
S.
I Left Again
Damn...
I had to leave before I got too nasty. I know NLP and can spot a lie a mile away.
He's lying about something big. God only knows what trouble I'm in for now.
No, he won't tell me.
I'm probably going to have to go back to console the kids.
People are asking me if I'm okay.
I'm not....but as long as I post here I'm still alive.
Love,
S.
I had to leave before I got too nasty. I know NLP and can spot a lie a mile away.
He's lying about something big. God only knows what trouble I'm in for now.
No, he won't tell me.
I'm probably going to have to go back to console the kids.
People are asking me if I'm okay.
I'm not....but as long as I post here I'm still alive.
Love,
S.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Garbage Woman
So....
Yesterday he checked out my car and said it was fine. It still runs rough and stalls but I'll try driving it.
The oven element caught fire. He ordered a new one.
I thought maybe he cared.
He doesn't.
I went to the grocery store late last night to buy oranges. I've been trying to feed him healthy food, to minimize his risks of keeling over. I've been packing him salads and fruit for lunch.
I ran into a funny bald guy with blue eyes.
Oh...he looked just like my friend Brad.
Those eyes remind me of Brad.
The way he turns his nose up at rancid fish reminds me of Brad.
The way he brushes the dust off the shelf reminds me of Brad.
Oh, crap. I think I have a crush on Brad. Now, I can't see him for a year. It'll be a cold day in he!! before I rebound on a friend.
I began to miss having a crush on my old flame. It's far easier to have a crush on someone who lives 500 miles away and knows why it won't work with you than it is to have a crush on someone available to you.
I go home in a daze.
Mike is there waiting for me.
He tells me I'm cute.
I was wearing my ugly girl costume. I wore blue jeans with rolled up cuffs. A t-shirt with an over sized hoodie, huge brown tortoiseshell glasses and a ponytail. I combed out my bangs, but with my curly hair the humidity makes them look uneven. The makeup was minimal as I only wore enough to cover my latest scar right between the eyes.
I show him my scar.
How'd you get that?
Well....I was crying a lot and woke up with a wrinkle.
I thought it made me look ugly, so I put acid on it (like I usually do). This time, though, the acid ate through the skin and left me with a little deep scar. I'm going to try to even it out.
I feel so ugly.
I feel so broken.
I start to hold back tears.
I express my confusion. I don't know what to do.
I know he stopped listening to me twelve years ago when his family was harassing me because I was a grad student. That's when he got violent and that's when I first started contemplating a divorce. I spent a lot of time in therapy.
Four years ago, he stopped talking to me completely; this was the time when he was being bullied by his boss at the city. In my research pertaining to workplace bullying, I am finding out that this is common. The bullied worker withdrawals and stops communicating not only with co-workers but other people in their life.
Most marriages will experience strain if one spouse works in a hostile workplace. The longer the marriage the less strain. So far in my research, 6% of these marriages dissolve. 31% are estranged. 61% report strain.
This is why I'm mad at Donnielle, Robin and the lawyers at the city. I have had one respondent who worked for the city.....one. She was set up the same way Mike was and given an impossible quota to fulfill. A city car followed her. They stalked her. They were seen taking photos of her daughter outside of her home. They harassed her. She gained fifty pounds. She considered suicide until she finally found enough money to move into another city. The harassment didn't quite stop but it subsided.
Someone at the city sent me an email claiming that Mike was fired for being fat. The woman was told that she was fired for being too pretty. It seems to me that someone has an issue with her appearance.
Her stories mirrors ours. I share that with Mike. I beg him to get help.
I start to cry.
I couldn't help it. I mean, women who go four years without intimacy feel broken. I must be broken. I must be ugly. I must be gross. My hygiene must be lacking. There must be something wrong with me.
Maybe I need to do more kegels. Maybe I need to go out and buy a tens machine. Maybe I'm defective somehow.
Maybe I need to sear all the wrinkles off my face.
Maybe I'm just not good enough.
He tells me that it's not me, it's him. He wants me to stay to work on our relationship.
I ask when he wants to do that? Next week? Eighteen months from now? Never? I'd like to have sex sometime before I hit menopause and it dries out.
I start to cry harder. I don't know what to do. Do I try harder?
If I stay, I fear what he'll do. If I go, I fear for what he'll do.
He makes a lot of executive decisions that destroy my reputation. My credit is ruined now. I'm unsure how I'm going to find a job.
I'm in pain.
He looks at me, spins on his heels and walks down the stairs and into the basement, leaving me alone with the groceries and my tears.
This is my marriage. We've been estranged for four years. It's been dead for twelve.
I feel like garbage.
I pray to find a way to leave this house in a way that does the least harm.
Love,
S.
Yesterday he checked out my car and said it was fine. It still runs rough and stalls but I'll try driving it.
The oven element caught fire. He ordered a new one.
I thought maybe he cared.
He doesn't.
I went to the grocery store late last night to buy oranges. I've been trying to feed him healthy food, to minimize his risks of keeling over. I've been packing him salads and fruit for lunch.
I ran into a funny bald guy with blue eyes.
Oh...he looked just like my friend Brad.
Those eyes remind me of Brad.
The way he turns his nose up at rancid fish reminds me of Brad.
The way he brushes the dust off the shelf reminds me of Brad.
Oh, crap. I think I have a crush on Brad. Now, I can't see him for a year. It'll be a cold day in he!! before I rebound on a friend.
I began to miss having a crush on my old flame. It's far easier to have a crush on someone who lives 500 miles away and knows why it won't work with you than it is to have a crush on someone available to you.
I go home in a daze.
Mike is there waiting for me.
He tells me I'm cute.
I was wearing my ugly girl costume. I wore blue jeans with rolled up cuffs. A t-shirt with an over sized hoodie, huge brown tortoiseshell glasses and a ponytail. I combed out my bangs, but with my curly hair the humidity makes them look uneven. The makeup was minimal as I only wore enough to cover my latest scar right between the eyes.
I show him my scar.
How'd you get that?
Well....I was crying a lot and woke up with a wrinkle.
I thought it made me look ugly, so I put acid on it (like I usually do). This time, though, the acid ate through the skin and left me with a little deep scar. I'm going to try to even it out.
I feel so ugly.
I feel so broken.
I start to hold back tears.
I express my confusion. I don't know what to do.
I know he stopped listening to me twelve years ago when his family was harassing me because I was a grad student. That's when he got violent and that's when I first started contemplating a divorce. I spent a lot of time in therapy.
Four years ago, he stopped talking to me completely; this was the time when he was being bullied by his boss at the city. In my research pertaining to workplace bullying, I am finding out that this is common. The bullied worker withdrawals and stops communicating not only with co-workers but other people in their life.
Most marriages will experience strain if one spouse works in a hostile workplace. The longer the marriage the less strain. So far in my research, 6% of these marriages dissolve. 31% are estranged. 61% report strain.
This is why I'm mad at Donnielle, Robin and the lawyers at the city. I have had one respondent who worked for the city.....one. She was set up the same way Mike was and given an impossible quota to fulfill. A city car followed her. They stalked her. They were seen taking photos of her daughter outside of her home. They harassed her. She gained fifty pounds. She considered suicide until she finally found enough money to move into another city. The harassment didn't quite stop but it subsided.
Someone at the city sent me an email claiming that Mike was fired for being fat. The woman was told that she was fired for being too pretty. It seems to me that someone has an issue with her appearance.
Her stories mirrors ours. I share that with Mike. I beg him to get help.
I start to cry.
I couldn't help it. I mean, women who go four years without intimacy feel broken. I must be broken. I must be ugly. I must be gross. My hygiene must be lacking. There must be something wrong with me.
Maybe I need to do more kegels. Maybe I need to go out and buy a tens machine. Maybe I'm defective somehow.
Maybe I need to sear all the wrinkles off my face.
Maybe I'm just not good enough.
He tells me that it's not me, it's him. He wants me to stay to work on our relationship.
I ask when he wants to do that? Next week? Eighteen months from now? Never? I'd like to have sex sometime before I hit menopause and it dries out.
I start to cry harder. I don't know what to do. Do I try harder?
If I stay, I fear what he'll do. If I go, I fear for what he'll do.
He makes a lot of executive decisions that destroy my reputation. My credit is ruined now. I'm unsure how I'm going to find a job.
I'm in pain.
He looks at me, spins on his heels and walks down the stairs and into the basement, leaving me alone with the groceries and my tears.
This is my marriage. We've been estranged for four years. It's been dead for twelve.
I feel like garbage.
I pray to find a way to leave this house in a way that does the least harm.
Love,
S.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Sabotaging the Irritated Feminist
Insecure men are dangerous....
I was able to cope with this guy until he had issues with his boss at the city.
I mean, every time I stepped out of the house to do something my car would get tampered with, his family would bug my coworkers, teachers, mentors, or stalk me, or the gas money would disappear.
Since he was fired by the city because his boss was jealous of my master's degree, it's been much, much worse. I say jealous...I'm not sure. I just know that she claimed she fired him, in part, because I had one. She also ridiculed my medical condition and told him to stalk me at school. It is all recorded on court transcripts. Why in the world would someone raking in over $90,000 of our tax money pull that crap with a citizen?
I'm still a little ticked.
That master's degree was easy to earn but hard to get because I had to sneak around Mike.
Every time I do something, it gets sabotaged. He acts like every incident is an accident but it is more of a pattern.
Imagine running for office, in a very public campaign, and having all the money for coffee and gas disappear. Imagine how impossible it is to get to events when you can't find the funds for bus fare.
Imagine being a Libertarian and trying to get your name OFF the welfare rolls. Don't know how they signed me up in the first place.
Imagine how crappy it is to have the car break down each and every time you want to go to a job interview.
Imagine waking up to go to work one day and finding your car....gone!
Imagine getting phone calls from creditors telling you that the accounts are past due when you want to get a job that requires a credit check. Imagine, now, that all the money you've saved for paying bills ended up in his retirement account.
Imagine going to college and having your advisor tell you that your husband won't let you finish your degree but won't tell you how he knew that... only that there was a person trying to get a job at that office who wasn't interested in the job. Turns out, his sister fessed up to going to the school in an effort to make me quit.
Imagine taking classes to get licensed in a new field and network, only to find your husband sitting outside of the building because his boss told him to leave work (she admitted to that is in court transcripts...somewhat...but still...).
Some stupid b!tch had to bring up my master's degree as a reason for firing him because she couldn't say the truth - she discriminates against fat people as per the email she sent to me.
Here is the problem. When we got engaged, he told me I could finish my P.hd. He told me that I could work.
Ninety days after our wedding, his mother, sister, aunties and uncles told him that my master's degree would ruin his life. I've been yelled at, had things thrown at me, harassed, slandered and everything else because I went to college.
I can understand a bunch of alcoholic drunks annoying a woman because she works hard...but a Tax Audit Supervisor for the city in which I live? Never....
I want OUT!
Every time I get close....I get sabotaged.
I'm being punished for being myself. I am not a victim. I am about to put on my war paint.
Today I'm home without a working vehicle. I can't go out and buy those cleaning products that bring me comfort. I'm pissed...
I'm still mad. The only way to get over anger is with exposure.
I'm bored.
If I'm home....
If I can't work....
If I can't clean...
If I can't go anywhere....
Why can't I publish all that stuff?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I keep getting hacked. I have ONE website that the city lawyers know about...it gets hacked constantly but what they don't know is that it is one of THREE.
I know the city attorney's henchman warned me that the assaults on my privacy and the harassment were due to my politics but I know better....
I became an activist on the local level because of the harassment from the city.
I became an activist after 18 MONTHS of being stalked by a city car. I even saw one at my office, in another city, 45 miles away. This is why I won't work from home. I don't want to play with a lying snotty tax audit supervisor. The lawyers told me they're watching my business. The female Finance Director and the Human Resource guy sent me emails warning me to get a business license for every hobby I have. It isn't going to happen....sorry...not until his former threatening bosses are gone.
Come on.....someone at the city was stalking me. I don't get it. The only connection is with Mike. Mike's family stalks me. Could he have had someone he knew at the city stalk me to freak me out?
I mean....
Could Mike and his boss have had an affair?
Why else would she care so much about my personal attributes?
Why else would she slander me?
Why else would city cars have sat outside my home so darn much?
Why else would I have to endure abusive phone calls from city lawyers?
Why else did he gain so much weight so he couldn't have sex? I've actually seen people do that in clinical practice. I have seen people gain a lot of weight to keep them from being unfaithful more often than I care to admit.
Hmmmmmm......
I wonder if there is evidence?
But then, I swear, it is like he has a split personality. He'll get a nasty look in his eyes and he'll admit to doing all sorts of scary things. This is why I shoved his butt in group therapy. He left because his boss spread rumors that he was in group therapy for beating me.
Nope...he was in group therapy for acting like an adult child of an alcoholic. He came home one day claiming that his boss said that her supervisor drank heavily and would harass her via the telephone at all hours of the night. This triggered Mike's childhood trauma and I told him to get help. He did and was fired.
And, somehow...it came down to the city violating the ADA and them blaming me in order to stop focusing on their wrongdoing. The problem is that they never met me and their lawyer ignored my warnings about Googling my name to see what I did for fun (political activism for children's rights).
If I'm not afraid to take on idiotic school boards, uneducated social workers and bad dads, why would I be afraid of a couple of city employees? They are a stupid bunch of moronic eggheads.
I am NOT a victim. I am an irritated feminist. Heads are going to roll.
Now, trust me, the city attorney and the HR director know exactly what I want. I want the city to adopt a policy of confidentiality for all potential victims and perpetrators of domestic violence. I want them to refer people to the EAP program. I got the idea from talking to various victim advocates across the country. They refuse to do that because acusing men of domestic violence is a damn good way to embarass them so they quit their jobs. It's the city's way of culling the herd.
A libertarian understands the need to reduce overhead. She doesn't understand the need to put the taxpayer at risk of legal payouts due to wrongful termination because the supervisor lied about (aka slandered) a man and his family in order to get him fired.
An emotionally abused woman doesn't appreciate having the city stand behind her abuser and giving him the excuse to amp it up. I can put up with any man's crap. I can work around it, unless the idiot feels vindicated by the government.
Now...they've done it! I'm angry.
I want out of this house....this mess....this life....now. I want the city to take responsibility for slandering me and blaming me for the bad gossipy behavior of Mike's former supervisor.
I don't know who the man in the basement is anymore so I'd rather be as far away from his bull as possible.
He wants to stay married.
He can't tell me what he wants from a marriage.
This isn't a marriage.
This is hell.
I want to leave before I make him burn in the fiery walls of the hell we created.
If I can't do that at this time, perhaps, I should focus on frying another little fishy and a Robin.
Yeah...the lawyers gave me copies of several emails between Donnielle and Robin (idiots at the city trying to ruin his reputation). Why they'd conspire to ruin someone is beyond me.....
Posting them online could help me get that policy change I want so bad. I just want to be assured that it won't happen again. I wasn't told they'd stop the behavior. They threatened me to try to keep me quiet. They even asked Mike to sign a document promising to keep me quiet. He refused.
I mean...really....how in the hell is he going to keep me quiet? Cut off my hands and tongue?
If he beats me, he's going to get a small room six feet underground. He knows it. I don't care if it is PC or not.....you don't hit a country girl who likes guns. It's a good way to get yourself hogtied.
Here is the deal. Threats don't work well with a pissed off, redheaded, irritated feminist.
I'm sitting here considering posting a heck of a lot of documents online.
It's not illegal for me to post them online. I didn't post them before because the city attorneys threatened to blackball and harass Mike if I say something. That won't sway me anymore simply because he's not very nice to me.
Maybe Donnielle and Robin can give him a karmic lesson as I give them one of mine.
It would make me feel a heck of a lot better.
Love ya,
S.
I was able to cope with this guy until he had issues with his boss at the city.
I mean, every time I stepped out of the house to do something my car would get tampered with, his family would bug my coworkers, teachers, mentors, or stalk me, or the gas money would disappear.
Since he was fired by the city because his boss was jealous of my master's degree, it's been much, much worse. I say jealous...I'm not sure. I just know that she claimed she fired him, in part, because I had one. She also ridiculed my medical condition and told him to stalk me at school. It is all recorded on court transcripts. Why in the world would someone raking in over $90,000 of our tax money pull that crap with a citizen?
I'm still a little ticked.
That master's degree was easy to earn but hard to get because I had to sneak around Mike.
Every time I do something, it gets sabotaged. He acts like every incident is an accident but it is more of a pattern.
Imagine running for office, in a very public campaign, and having all the money for coffee and gas disappear. Imagine how impossible it is to get to events when you can't find the funds for bus fare.
Imagine being a Libertarian and trying to get your name OFF the welfare rolls. Don't know how they signed me up in the first place.
Imagine how crappy it is to have the car break down each and every time you want to go to a job interview.
Imagine waking up to go to work one day and finding your car....gone!
Imagine getting phone calls from creditors telling you that the accounts are past due when you want to get a job that requires a credit check. Imagine, now, that all the money you've saved for paying bills ended up in his retirement account.
Imagine going to college and having your advisor tell you that your husband won't let you finish your degree but won't tell you how he knew that... only that there was a person trying to get a job at that office who wasn't interested in the job. Turns out, his sister fessed up to going to the school in an effort to make me quit.
Imagine taking classes to get licensed in a new field and network, only to find your husband sitting outside of the building because his boss told him to leave work (she admitted to that is in court transcripts...somewhat...but still...).
Some stupid b!tch had to bring up my master's degree as a reason for firing him because she couldn't say the truth - she discriminates against fat people as per the email she sent to me.
Here is the problem. When we got engaged, he told me I could finish my P.hd. He told me that I could work.
Ninety days after our wedding, his mother, sister, aunties and uncles told him that my master's degree would ruin his life. I've been yelled at, had things thrown at me, harassed, slandered and everything else because I went to college.
I can understand a bunch of alcoholic drunks annoying a woman because she works hard...but a Tax Audit Supervisor for the city in which I live? Never....
I want OUT!
Every time I get close....I get sabotaged.
I'm being punished for being myself. I am not a victim. I am about to put on my war paint.
Today I'm home without a working vehicle. I can't go out and buy those cleaning products that bring me comfort. I'm pissed...
I'm still mad. The only way to get over anger is with exposure.
I'm bored.
If I'm home....
If I can't work....
If I can't clean...
If I can't go anywhere....
Why can't I publish all that stuff?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I keep getting hacked. I have ONE website that the city lawyers know about...it gets hacked constantly but what they don't know is that it is one of THREE.
I know the city attorney's henchman warned me that the assaults on my privacy and the harassment were due to my politics but I know better....
I became an activist on the local level because of the harassment from the city.
I became an activist after 18 MONTHS of being stalked by a city car. I even saw one at my office, in another city, 45 miles away. This is why I won't work from home. I don't want to play with a lying snotty tax audit supervisor. The lawyers told me they're watching my business. The female Finance Director and the Human Resource guy sent me emails warning me to get a business license for every hobby I have. It isn't going to happen....sorry...not until his former threatening bosses are gone.
Come on.....someone at the city was stalking me. I don't get it. The only connection is with Mike. Mike's family stalks me. Could he have had someone he knew at the city stalk me to freak me out?
I mean....
Could Mike and his boss have had an affair?
Why else would she care so much about my personal attributes?
Why else would she slander me?
Why else would city cars have sat outside my home so darn much?
Why else would I have to endure abusive phone calls from city lawyers?
Why else did he gain so much weight so he couldn't have sex? I've actually seen people do that in clinical practice. I have seen people gain a lot of weight to keep them from being unfaithful more often than I care to admit.
Hmmmmmm......
I wonder if there is evidence?
But then, I swear, it is like he has a split personality. He'll get a nasty look in his eyes and he'll admit to doing all sorts of scary things. This is why I shoved his butt in group therapy. He left because his boss spread rumors that he was in group therapy for beating me.
Nope...he was in group therapy for acting like an adult child of an alcoholic. He came home one day claiming that his boss said that her supervisor drank heavily and would harass her via the telephone at all hours of the night. This triggered Mike's childhood trauma and I told him to get help. He did and was fired.
And, somehow...it came down to the city violating the ADA and them blaming me in order to stop focusing on their wrongdoing. The problem is that they never met me and their lawyer ignored my warnings about Googling my name to see what I did for fun (political activism for children's rights).
If I'm not afraid to take on idiotic school boards, uneducated social workers and bad dads, why would I be afraid of a couple of city employees? They are a stupid bunch of moronic eggheads.
I am NOT a victim. I am an irritated feminist. Heads are going to roll.
Now, trust me, the city attorney and the HR director know exactly what I want. I want the city to adopt a policy of confidentiality for all potential victims and perpetrators of domestic violence. I want them to refer people to the EAP program. I got the idea from talking to various victim advocates across the country. They refuse to do that because acusing men of domestic violence is a damn good way to embarass them so they quit their jobs. It's the city's way of culling the herd.
A libertarian understands the need to reduce overhead. She doesn't understand the need to put the taxpayer at risk of legal payouts due to wrongful termination because the supervisor lied about (aka slandered) a man and his family in order to get him fired.
An emotionally abused woman doesn't appreciate having the city stand behind her abuser and giving him the excuse to amp it up. I can put up with any man's crap. I can work around it, unless the idiot feels vindicated by the government.
Now...they've done it! I'm angry.
I want out of this house....this mess....this life....now. I want the city to take responsibility for slandering me and blaming me for the bad gossipy behavior of Mike's former supervisor.
I don't know who the man in the basement is anymore so I'd rather be as far away from his bull as possible.
He wants to stay married.
He can't tell me what he wants from a marriage.
This isn't a marriage.
This is hell.
I want to leave before I make him burn in the fiery walls of the hell we created.
If I can't do that at this time, perhaps, I should focus on frying another little fishy and a Robin.
Yeah...the lawyers gave me copies of several emails between Donnielle and Robin (idiots at the city trying to ruin his reputation). Why they'd conspire to ruin someone is beyond me.....
Posting them online could help me get that policy change I want so bad. I just want to be assured that it won't happen again. I wasn't told they'd stop the behavior. They threatened me to try to keep me quiet. They even asked Mike to sign a document promising to keep me quiet. He refused.
I mean...really....how in the hell is he going to keep me quiet? Cut off my hands and tongue?
If he beats me, he's going to get a small room six feet underground. He knows it. I don't care if it is PC or not.....you don't hit a country girl who likes guns. It's a good way to get yourself hogtied.
Here is the deal. Threats don't work well with a pissed off, redheaded, irritated feminist.
I'm sitting here considering posting a heck of a lot of documents online.
It's not illegal for me to post them online. I didn't post them before because the city attorneys threatened to blackball and harass Mike if I say something. That won't sway me anymore simply because he's not very nice to me.
Maybe Donnielle and Robin can give him a karmic lesson as I give them one of mine.
It would make me feel a heck of a lot better.
Love ya,
S.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
What?
I've got a living room full of people and they're watching Futurama as I'm trying to get some work done.
I hear the line
looking at me....
What?
What?
Damn...I knew I should've changed my political affiliation.
Love ya,
S.
I hear the line
And then, while they sat helplessly around the campfire ... a demented knife-wielding escaped lunatic libertarian zombie mutant snuck up and--before looking up to notice that every person in the room is
looking at me....
What?
What?
Damn...I knew I should've changed my political affiliation.
Love ya,
S.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Death by Food
So...
the man in the basement threatened to kill himself via obesity should I leave.
It's no secret.
He's been saying that for awhile.
He's gained nearly 180 pounds since he lost his job at the city. He was morbidly obese then.
I believe him when he says he's going to kill himself with food.
I've been trying to gain control over my life for the past fifteen years. Every time I get away, something stupid happens that pulls me back in.
If this doesn't put to rest the gossip about me being a powerful black magick witch, I don't know what would...if I could turn a man into a newt or a frog into a man....
There wouldn't be a frog living in my basement.
Wish he'd find his princess and let her kiss him so we could both move on.
Now, when I'm angry and he threatens me with food suicide, I don't know whether to laugh at him, bake a batch of brownies with hydrogenated margarine, or crush up little Prozac pills and stick them in the meatloaf.
This time...I did the worst and most unethical thing I could do.
I played shrink.
One does not do that with their spouse....never....ever....ever....but...I couldn't understand where in the world the death by food idea spawned.
I mean...
every suicidal person I've ever met has come from an environment where someone promoted suicide.
Myself....well...I grew up in a home headed by a Cherokee who believed that people should die with dignity should they become a burden on their families. One year I became suicidal after being told (erroneously) that my father and mother killed themselves, my grandmother and beloved aunt died, and my step-father killed himself playing Russian Roulette with my baby sister. This was within the span of eight months.
I was raised on suicide ideation. My high school sweetheart, sick of hearing my cry, ran off to the school shrink. Upon meeting with the shrink I came to the idea to get suicide promoting, sick, disturbing individuals out of my life.
My point is that those type of threats are taught in early childhood. They come from somewhere.
People who kill themselves with alcoholism, tend to have an alcoholic in the family. People who do illegal drugs learned it somewhere. Addictions and psychiatric illness tend to run in families.
I wanted to know where Mr. Frog's threat came from.
It took several hours.
I'll be as brief as I can.
If one grows up in a family where diabetes is common, one learns quite quickly that food can kill.
Granted, he does not have diabetes (yet) but knowing what I know about this family, there is a history of death by blood sugar. That is how one of the other in-laws died, he didn't refill his prescription for insulin when the family tore his wife from him.
Yes, this is common in his family. They get married. The in-law gets stalked and harassed. The in-law is lied about, their money stolen, and their credit destroyed. Then the couple gets divorced.
Most marriages last less than three years. The three marriages that lasted longer than fifteen years had one feature in common: the couple became estranged from the family after they began harassing the in-law. The thing that happens, though, is when there is a death in the family the spouse gets sucked back into the fold and the marriage ends.
One marriage ended after twenty years when the in-law committed suicide.
The second one hasn't ended but the in-law (after twelve years) decided to take a job as an over the road truck driver. His companions are what he lovingly calls 'lot lizards'. He doesn't get what he needs at home and was smart enough to find it elsewhere.
I'm trying to leave the third marriage.
My father-in-law has terminal cancer. I don't think it'll be long before I'm sent packing now.
I should have known this would happen. I mean, his cousin and I were close in high school. She'd talk about how women should be spoiled, taken care of and only have intimacies for procreation. She was Catholic. I was a Mormon raised by a Pagan: sex is a gift from God that shouldn't be wasted. I was taught we need to earn our keep in a relationship, we must give as good as we get.
If you can't flirt with your spouse, if you can't have fun, it is time to move on. If you can't earn your own money, it's time to go.
I should have known better than to marry into it. I have known this family since I was a child.
I bought into the stories that the in-laws were the problem.
My estranged husband's uncle lived three houses away from the house where I grew up. His uncle divorced his wife due to gossip that she was caught cheating when his mother stopped in for an impromptu visit in the middle of the day.
I was too young to ever question how this man's mother (Mike's grandma) was able to get into her son's house when his wife brought over a male friend. How did she know? She lived forty miles away! Her grandson worked. Why was she at their house in the middle of the day?
Stories like that abound where one relative witnessed something bizarre and just happened to have keys to the house.
Stalking?
I've had my share of stalking since I've met these people. The first incident was in '92, when they'd call me when men visited me and somehow they knew I had company as they'd ask to talk to the poor guy. Here is the deal; they lived 45 minutes away.
In '97, they'd call me telling me that they drove by my house and were keeping an eye on me.
The last incident was in '11. They mentioned that they knew where I worked. I was having lunch with my friend and one of them called me. I ignored the phone. When I left the restaurant, I was approached by someone I never met who called me El Diablo. Later, I found out that this guy was hassling the other people in the office building. I moved my office to another city.
There are numerous other incidents; stalking on campus, relatives having keys to my houses, stalking at work....this appears to be a way of life for this family. I wish I had seen this before but love and friendship can be blind.
I've got to go. He's waking up and walking up the stairs.
Do you want to know what he likes to sing?
The moniker, Mr. Frog, actually fits.
the man in the basement threatened to kill himself via obesity should I leave.
It's no secret.
He's been saying that for awhile.
He's gained nearly 180 pounds since he lost his job at the city. He was morbidly obese then.
I believe him when he says he's going to kill himself with food.
I've been trying to gain control over my life for the past fifteen years. Every time I get away, something stupid happens that pulls me back in.
If this doesn't put to rest the gossip about me being a powerful black magick witch, I don't know what would...if I could turn a man into a newt or a frog into a man....
There wouldn't be a frog living in my basement.
Wish he'd find his princess and let her kiss him so we could both move on.
Now, when I'm angry and he threatens me with food suicide, I don't know whether to laugh at him, bake a batch of brownies with hydrogenated margarine, or crush up little Prozac pills and stick them in the meatloaf.
This time...I did the worst and most unethical thing I could do.
I played shrink.
One does not do that with their spouse....never....ever....ever....but...I couldn't understand where in the world the death by food idea spawned.
I mean...
every suicidal person I've ever met has come from an environment where someone promoted suicide.
Myself....well...I grew up in a home headed by a Cherokee who believed that people should die with dignity should they become a burden on their families. One year I became suicidal after being told (erroneously) that my father and mother killed themselves, my grandmother and beloved aunt died, and my step-father killed himself playing Russian Roulette with my baby sister. This was within the span of eight months.
I was raised on suicide ideation. My high school sweetheart, sick of hearing my cry, ran off to the school shrink. Upon meeting with the shrink I came to the idea to get suicide promoting, sick, disturbing individuals out of my life.
My point is that those type of threats are taught in early childhood. They come from somewhere.
People who kill themselves with alcoholism, tend to have an alcoholic in the family. People who do illegal drugs learned it somewhere. Addictions and psychiatric illness tend to run in families.
I wanted to know where Mr. Frog's threat came from.
It took several hours.
I'll be as brief as I can.
If one grows up in a family where diabetes is common, one learns quite quickly that food can kill.
Granted, he does not have diabetes (yet) but knowing what I know about this family, there is a history of death by blood sugar. That is how one of the other in-laws died, he didn't refill his prescription for insulin when the family tore his wife from him.
Yes, this is common in his family. They get married. The in-law gets stalked and harassed. The in-law is lied about, their money stolen, and their credit destroyed. Then the couple gets divorced.
Most marriages last less than three years. The three marriages that lasted longer than fifteen years had one feature in common: the couple became estranged from the family after they began harassing the in-law. The thing that happens, though, is when there is a death in the family the spouse gets sucked back into the fold and the marriage ends.
One marriage ended after twenty years when the in-law committed suicide.
The second one hasn't ended but the in-law (after twelve years) decided to take a job as an over the road truck driver. His companions are what he lovingly calls 'lot lizards'. He doesn't get what he needs at home and was smart enough to find it elsewhere.
I'm trying to leave the third marriage.
My father-in-law has terminal cancer. I don't think it'll be long before I'm sent packing now.
I should have known this would happen. I mean, his cousin and I were close in high school. She'd talk about how women should be spoiled, taken care of and only have intimacies for procreation. She was Catholic. I was a Mormon raised by a Pagan: sex is a gift from God that shouldn't be wasted. I was taught we need to earn our keep in a relationship, we must give as good as we get.
If you can't flirt with your spouse, if you can't have fun, it is time to move on. If you can't earn your own money, it's time to go.
I should have known better than to marry into it. I have known this family since I was a child.
I bought into the stories that the in-laws were the problem.
My estranged husband's uncle lived three houses away from the house where I grew up. His uncle divorced his wife due to gossip that she was caught cheating when his mother stopped in for an impromptu visit in the middle of the day.
I was too young to ever question how this man's mother (Mike's grandma) was able to get into her son's house when his wife brought over a male friend. How did she know? She lived forty miles away! Her grandson worked. Why was she at their house in the middle of the day?
Stories like that abound where one relative witnessed something bizarre and just happened to have keys to the house.
Stalking?
I've had my share of stalking since I've met these people. The first incident was in '92, when they'd call me when men visited me and somehow they knew I had company as they'd ask to talk to the poor guy. Here is the deal; they lived 45 minutes away.
In '97, they'd call me telling me that they drove by my house and were keeping an eye on me.
The last incident was in '11. They mentioned that they knew where I worked. I was having lunch with my friend and one of them called me. I ignored the phone. When I left the restaurant, I was approached by someone I never met who called me El Diablo. Later, I found out that this guy was hassling the other people in the office building. I moved my office to another city.
There are numerous other incidents; stalking on campus, relatives having keys to my houses, stalking at work....this appears to be a way of life for this family. I wish I had seen this before but love and friendship can be blind.
I've got to go. He's waking up and walking up the stairs.
Do you want to know what he likes to sing?
The moniker, Mr. Frog, actually fits.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Vendetta By Proxy
Emotional abuse is often best described as Vendetta By Proxy; someone has issues in his or her past and works it out by attacking the person closest to him or her.
I'm tired of being ignored, having to change the course of my career without notice, being yelled at, being denied medical care and not being told about where our assets are going....
because I'm a woman
and women are stupid because the man in the basement considers his mother and sister stupid.
I'm tired of being seen as a lying skank because some chick at the city building lies.
I'm tired of being told that I have to stay here because he's 500 pounds and is trying to kill himself with food.
I couldn't sleep after hearing that last one.
He thinks he'll be dead within five years.
So..
I asked for a one year separation. One of us moves out and a judge figures out who pays what. We'll both get therapy. He needs to figure out why he's so mad at women, I'm tired of being the target of his vendetta against his mother, his sister, and his former boss. If he can fix it within himself, then he can date me again.
He said no.
I asked for a divorce.
He said no.
So....in the middle of the night, I schemed and figured out what I'm going to do...
The kiddos are going to have to get to know his family. They've got to get close to his sister, his brother, his auntie, his uncle, his mother and his father. They've got to know his cousin, my former best friend from high school....that way, if he dies, they will know that side of their heritage.
I was an orphan. I don't want them to suffer the same fate.
He is quiet now.
He hates his parents more than he loves me.
I can't stand the loneliness. I remember crying in the middle of the night way back in '04. Now, after years of sleeping alone, I will get about two hours of sleep before I wake up wailing.
There is an emptiness that I can't cope with very well.
Every night it gets worse.
Last night it made me sick. I haven't been able to hold my food down today.
This is certainly going to be a growth experience.
I'm praying.
Maybe I can find a job that allows me to travel, that would be the perfect solution. I can support these guys but not cry so much here.
I'll let you know.
Love,
S.
I'm tired of being ignored, having to change the course of my career without notice, being yelled at, being denied medical care and not being told about where our assets are going....
because I'm a woman
and women are stupid because the man in the basement considers his mother and sister stupid.
I'm tired of being seen as a lying skank because some chick at the city building lies.
I'm tired of being told that I have to stay here because he's 500 pounds and is trying to kill himself with food.
I couldn't sleep after hearing that last one.
He thinks he'll be dead within five years.
So..
I asked for a one year separation. One of us moves out and a judge figures out who pays what. We'll both get therapy. He needs to figure out why he's so mad at women, I'm tired of being the target of his vendetta against his mother, his sister, and his former boss. If he can fix it within himself, then he can date me again.
He said no.
I asked for a divorce.
He said no.
So....in the middle of the night, I schemed and figured out what I'm going to do...
The kiddos are going to have to get to know his family. They've got to get close to his sister, his brother, his auntie, his uncle, his mother and his father. They've got to know his cousin, my former best friend from high school....that way, if he dies, they will know that side of their heritage.
I was an orphan. I don't want them to suffer the same fate.
He is quiet now.
He hates his parents more than he loves me.
I can't stand the loneliness. I remember crying in the middle of the night way back in '04. Now, after years of sleeping alone, I will get about two hours of sleep before I wake up wailing.
There is an emptiness that I can't cope with very well.
Every night it gets worse.
Last night it made me sick. I haven't been able to hold my food down today.
This is certainly going to be a growth experience.
I'm praying.
Maybe I can find a job that allows me to travel, that would be the perfect solution. I can support these guys but not cry so much here.
I'll let you know.
Love,
S.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Getting Grounded
I had another psychic explain the dreaming of men before I met them thing....I usually don't talk to psychics much because I'm usually more accurate than they are..... but this person seems to have dealt successfully with the same problem I'm having with disturbing dreams.
So, I'll share what she said.
She said that people tend to do that when they are not grounded.
In her view, people who don't get connected to nature or stay busy in the real world (not in the electronic world) tend to meet up with similar ungrounded souls on the astral plane and eventually manifest these people into their reality.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending upon what you want...the things we see in our dreams rarely occur in real life because we are ungrounded in reality and out of sorts.
I tend to have very..... uh....interesting astral dreams. I originally thought it was my subconscious mind's way of b!tching about my celibacy. Maybe the truth of the matter is that my astral self is a bit of a whore.
Anyway...
busy social and professional lives end that kind of astral plane stuff.
That explains a lot.
Every man I've met that way was an introverted software programmer or an internet entrepreneur.
I dream of him. I wake up freaked out because it feels so darn real. I'll run into him in real life and try to run away. Sometimes I can't run away because we're at a party, or I have committed to doing something right then and there, so we end up flirting. Then we both run away only to continue the crap in the theta state one those nights that I forget to doze into a drunken slumber.
I thought alcohol cured me of the dreams.
Wow...
This could be the answer.
When I was a full time student, who worked a full time job and volunteered at the homeless shelter - these things did not happen to me.
When I was on the campaign trail, it stopped for a bit.
But when I spent days in the recording studio and promoting my work online, the dreams got crazy.
So....if she's right...
I don't need valerian infused vodka to sleep without dreaming of men that I later end up running from at the supermarket.
Nope...
I just need to take up hiking again and keep the computer off.
I'll give it a whirl.
I'm excited!! It IS possible to turn off the psychic stuff. How nice is that?
I'd love to be able to meet someone without knowing too much about him. It's always annoying to ask a man I've just met how he liked growing up by a lake, what it was like answering his cell phone while mountain climbing, if he'll ever fix the brown T-bird sitting in his garage, or if he enjoyed watching the dancing pandas on his recent trip.
Sometimes....it just slips out. Nine times out of ten, the guy's jaw will just drop. For some reason, only men who believe in this kind of thing are drawn to me. If it were any other type of guy....he'd just think I'm nuts..... or a stalker..... or something scary.
It is freakin' awkward!!
The most awkward meeting was with a guy I dreamt of driving drunk. I almost ordered a beer for him until I remembered his face from a dream. Ooooh...I felt so horrid. Turns out...I was right. He lost his license due to alcohol issues. It happens and it takes a real man to abstain from the wicked drink.
I'd want to be able to do that....I want to stop drinking completely! My blood glucose levels would be low and I'd be so darn skinny!! This is what I want.
I am truly excited.
Do you know why?
The hard part about being psychic is that it robs you of anticipating the ending. Why go to a movie if you know how it ends? I can't go certain places without dressing up.
If if meet the love of my life, I want to look like I just woke up. Well, that is almost true. I hope to be wearing clothes but I don't want to be wearing make-up or have my hair done up....I want the poor sap to know what he's getting.
If I anticipate meeting him, I'll dress up, put on age defying make-up, wear a puff up bra, maybe some fake eyelashes, blue contact lenses, and let him see the fake me.
No one likes fake Siegfred.
No one likes unpainted Siegfred either...they actually put a picture of me sans make-up in the newspaper. It is still on the internet. Ick!!! Just think, I can actually crack your computer screen with my gross, angry, b!tch face. Part of me regrets going out like that! I looked like a pasty white and bloated angry old lady.
Part of me likes my courage and my who gives a crap attitude. I'm an activist, not a model. Why do I have to wear make-up?
Okay, I have to wear make-up so I don't scare little children.
I guess that photographer was a surprise that I didn't anticipate.
The truth of the matter is that those miracles in life are held within the surprises.
They can be quite fun.
Love,
S.
P.S. Now, if I find one of these guys on the hiking trail....I'll probably die laughing.
So, I'll share what she said.
She said that people tend to do that when they are not grounded.
In her view, people who don't get connected to nature or stay busy in the real world (not in the electronic world) tend to meet up with similar ungrounded souls on the astral plane and eventually manifest these people into their reality.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending upon what you want...the things we see in our dreams rarely occur in real life because we are ungrounded in reality and out of sorts.
I tend to have very..... uh....interesting astral dreams. I originally thought it was my subconscious mind's way of b!tching about my celibacy. Maybe the truth of the matter is that my astral self is a bit of a whore.
Anyway...
busy social and professional lives end that kind of astral plane stuff.
That explains a lot.
Every man I've met that way was an introverted software programmer or an internet entrepreneur.
I dream of him. I wake up freaked out because it feels so darn real. I'll run into him in real life and try to run away. Sometimes I can't run away because we're at a party, or I have committed to doing something right then and there, so we end up flirting. Then we both run away only to continue the crap in the theta state one those nights that I forget to doze into a drunken slumber.
I thought alcohol cured me of the dreams.
Wow...
This could be the answer.
When I was a full time student, who worked a full time job and volunteered at the homeless shelter - these things did not happen to me.
When I was on the campaign trail, it stopped for a bit.
But when I spent days in the recording studio and promoting my work online, the dreams got crazy.
So....if she's right...
I don't need valerian infused vodka to sleep without dreaming of men that I later end up running from at the supermarket.
Nope...
I just need to take up hiking again and keep the computer off.
I'll give it a whirl.
I'm excited!! It IS possible to turn off the psychic stuff. How nice is that?
I'd love to be able to meet someone without knowing too much about him. It's always annoying to ask a man I've just met how he liked growing up by a lake, what it was like answering his cell phone while mountain climbing, if he'll ever fix the brown T-bird sitting in his garage, or if he enjoyed watching the dancing pandas on his recent trip.
Sometimes....it just slips out. Nine times out of ten, the guy's jaw will just drop. For some reason, only men who believe in this kind of thing are drawn to me. If it were any other type of guy....he'd just think I'm nuts..... or a stalker..... or something scary.
It is freakin' awkward!!
The most awkward meeting was with a guy I dreamt of driving drunk. I almost ordered a beer for him until I remembered his face from a dream. Ooooh...I felt so horrid. Turns out...I was right. He lost his license due to alcohol issues. It happens and it takes a real man to abstain from the wicked drink.
I'd want to be able to do that....I want to stop drinking completely! My blood glucose levels would be low and I'd be so darn skinny!! This is what I want.
I am truly excited.
Do you know why?
The hard part about being psychic is that it robs you of anticipating the ending. Why go to a movie if you know how it ends? I can't go certain places without dressing up.
If if meet the love of my life, I want to look like I just woke up. Well, that is almost true. I hope to be wearing clothes but I don't want to be wearing make-up or have my hair done up....I want the poor sap to know what he's getting.
If I anticipate meeting him, I'll dress up, put on age defying make-up, wear a puff up bra, maybe some fake eyelashes, blue contact lenses, and let him see the fake me.
No one likes fake Siegfred.
No one likes unpainted Siegfred either...they actually put a picture of me sans make-up in the newspaper. It is still on the internet. Ick!!! Just think, I can actually crack your computer screen with my gross, angry, b!tch face. Part of me regrets going out like that! I looked like a pasty white and bloated angry old lady.
Part of me likes my courage and my who gives a crap attitude. I'm an activist, not a model. Why do I have to wear make-up?
Okay, I have to wear make-up so I don't scare little children.
I guess that photographer was a surprise that I didn't anticipate.
The truth of the matter is that those miracles in life are held within the surprises.
They can be quite fun.
Love,
S.
P.S. Now, if I find one of these guys on the hiking trail....I'll probably die laughing.
Monday, February 20, 2012
On Rhianna and Chris Brown
Oh girls,
abusive guys are always victims...no?
They sure as heck think they are, don't they?
Mine came back with 'lil puppy eyes and started talking about the good ol' days we had together 18 years ago....
Will I stay with him?
Maybe....
if he has a lobotomy....
and signs a post-nuptual agreement....
and loses 350 pounds...
Let me tell you girls, if your abusive ex comes back with the puppy eyes,
wanting to buy you a new bass,
or sing back up on your single,
trust me.....he's only trying to worm his way back into your heart.
But...
you're older,
you're wiser,
you're hella lot hotter than anything else he can screw,
(that's why he's back to bother you).
Let me give you a 'lil secret: wear 5" high heel leather boots.
I own several pair.
I want a pair with little guns for heels....
Domanatrix outfits...leather....chains....whips, too.
I was once a horse enthusiast. I lived in the country....spurs, whips, chains, leather, thigh high boots....those are a part of our life out here...or at least they were before the sprawl.
Wear your leather.
If he says anything, tell him you've learned something new....
and ask what neck size he is.
My exes are afraid of me.
Here's the deal....
abusive men can dish it out so long as they think they have control. At the very hint, they are losing control, they do stupid crap like try to murder you, or blow themselves up, or gain 50 pounds in a month. .
Now, if they lost control over you don't let them ever get it back. In other words, never let them tie you up, no matter how much fluff is on those cuffs.
I doubt they'll let you tie them up. They're afraid to let a woman have control...
Love ya,
S.
Bad Fashion Advice:
Oh, I always smell like pepper, too. I have a pepper spray pen, and a pepper spray key fob. I've never used them, though. I prefer hypnotism or a nice kick to the....boys.
And if you cut yourself shaving drunk....wear a mini-skirt and show off your scab. That happened to me once with a guy who wanted something he wasn't entitled to have.
He got a little rough....
grabbed my skirt....
saw my leg....
and freaked out.
well..
I haven't heard a peep out of him since '89 and he's a close friend of the family.
I had the last laugh...
he couldn't handle a real woman.
O.K. Here is my real advice for Ms. Rhianna and anyone dealing with a @#$#@$ .....don't go there girl.
Any man who has hit you and then claimed you deserved it has no penis.
He may have a penis
but it will always be overshadowed by the big dick that owns it.
Brown lost his reputation. He's one of those bad boy rap stars that is so bad...so bad...that he has to hit woman to get attention because he's boring.
He's so bad...so bad....that the only ride he deserves costs 25 cents and is parked in the lobby of a wal-mart.
He's so bad...so bad....that the only hit he can make is when he smacks someone that weighs 120 pounds and we all know she can kick his @$$ but she's a lady.
Men don't do that. Little bebe boys do.
Stay away girl....
unless you want to do a video like Man Down...but this time....make a Chris Brown look-a-like be the star ....dress up like Yosemite Sam, shoot 'em up and have tons of angry women trample his limp, lifeless body.
Don't use Chris Brown, he'll think you owe him something.
They always want to earn favors as an excuse to bug you again.
One more thing....
Slime like Brown have no empathy.
Nope....nada....none...
Men like that just want an arm ornament. They want to impress other people. They don't care about you.
The can't love. Don't fool yourself. They cry because it gets them what they want.
I tried to run away from mine by gaining 17 pounds. It worked. He promised a divorce. I stayed a size 12 for two years. Then I couldn't breathe and after passing out constantly, I decided that I couldn't afford to stay fat and started losing the weight....
now...now...now
he wants to work things out.
Don't trust these narcissistic morons.....they'll screw up your life.
Run....girl...run...
Love ya,
S.
Coming Together
Things are looking better.
I found a couple of lawyers that I can afford.
I'm off to sell my stuff on Ebay to raise money for legal fees. It can be done.
I may try to sell the bigger items on Craigslist. I haven't decided yet.
I'll miss my Peavey T-40 the most. It's just a copy of the one my daddy gave me as a teen, so it'll be easier to get rid of than losing the one he gave to me. I can't believe a man would smash it against a wall on Christmas morning because he was jealous his wife spent more time with the guitar than him.
I've got to shake that memory out of my head before I want to take a bat to his [censored]....he needs his favorite item smashed.......
but men can torment women and get away with it. If I look at him cross-eyed holding a Louisville Slugger, I'd get arrested.
Sigh...
I found a soup kitchen that will let me help on Mondays, so I can get away from this horrible place for a few hours. Cleaning is something I enjoy, being OCD and all. So it is something for me to look forward to doing. When I ran for mayor, I spend a day distributing clothing to poor families....that was one of the most fun days of my life. Children light up when they get new toys and shoes - if I were a millionaire, I would set up a charity to distribute new toys and clothing to children.
But.....
I'm not a millionaire. I'm just a chick with a disease that makes her like to clean, so I'll go with that gift to give to the needy.
The creator gives us what we need when we need it.
Love ya,
S.
I found a couple of lawyers that I can afford.
I'm off to sell my stuff on Ebay to raise money for legal fees. It can be done.
I may try to sell the bigger items on Craigslist. I haven't decided yet.
I'll miss my Peavey T-40 the most. It's just a copy of the one my daddy gave me as a teen, so it'll be easier to get rid of than losing the one he gave to me. I can't believe a man would smash it against a wall on Christmas morning because he was jealous his wife spent more time with the guitar than him.
I've got to shake that memory out of my head before I want to take a bat to his [censored]....he needs his favorite item smashed.......
but men can torment women and get away with it. If I look at him cross-eyed holding a Louisville Slugger, I'd get arrested.
Sigh...
I found a soup kitchen that will let me help on Mondays, so I can get away from this horrible place for a few hours. Cleaning is something I enjoy, being OCD and all. So it is something for me to look forward to doing. When I ran for mayor, I spend a day distributing clothing to poor families....that was one of the most fun days of my life. Children light up when they get new toys and shoes - if I were a millionaire, I would set up a charity to distribute new toys and clothing to children.
But.....
I'm not a millionaire. I'm just a chick with a disease that makes her like to clean, so I'll go with that gift to give to the needy.
The creator gives us what we need when we need it.
Love ya,
S.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The Biology Files: Men should just shove aspirin up their urethras
The Biology Files: Men should just shove aspirin up their urethras: Aspirin goes here. Can I just say "thank you" to the GOP for reminding me in the last few weeks how very, very little some men think of...
The Crab Bucket
Have you ever seen a bucket of crabs? One crab may be able to leap over the side and try to scurry away but another crab always finds a way to pull the would-be escapee back in the bucket of doom.
Well....
I can't leave just yet.
Nope.
All the money is out of my reach.
It took me five days of pointed questions, five days of nagging, five days of asking the right questions to get to the truth. With a guy like that you have to ask the right questions or you'll never get to the truth.
A normal guy wouldn't do that.
He put the money we use to pay bills in his 401K. Thousands of dollars went missing. He said he put it in his retirement savings account.
I can't touch the money but he said he did it because he loves me.
The bills aren't getting paid. I feel ashamed of staying in this marriage now. I feel angry because I listened to my Christian friends who said a semi-separation, no sex, no love relationship was what God wanted for the kids because God hates divorce.
I'm sure God hates bearing false witness, too. Heck, that was one of the commandments. I don't remember seeing the word divorce there.
He took the money and stopped paying the bills because he loves me.
How in the heck is getting six robo-calls concerning his Citi-bank credit card each and every day considered love?
I would have preferred an awkward acknowledgement on any Valentine's day over the course of the past three years.
I'm upset that Citi-bank's robo-calls never fully disconnect, so I can't get a line out of the house after they call unless someone else calls in. I am thankful they called, though, because if it were not for them, I wouldn't know that the money was moved.
Well..
I'm going to have to get crafty now. I hate hiding assets. I've always been honest and that is my undoing. He hides assets. He makes decisions without telling me. To survive, I may have to do the same.
It is darn near impossible for honest people to divorce dysfunctional, liars.
I may have to file pro se in order to keep him from taking out a loan against the equity in our home. My mind is racing to find any other possible way he can screw me. I scrimped. I saved. The money I brought here paid the down payment. I'll be furious if he takes that all from me.
I'm trying to play fair but I think that is what is giving him the power to destroy me.
I'll black out the blog the day I figure out how to file but I want to document what is going on just in case something happens to me.
I still don't understand why I got threats from his former employer at the city.
That is the piece I can't fathom.
If he were behind it, would they have allowed their lawyers, officials, and cops to abuse me? To call me on the phone and tell me I'm at fault for his job loss? To threaten me on the phone? To lie about me in court? To depose me for eight hours asking questions about my business and political aspirations? To threaten to abusively audit any business I start? To have their vehicles sit outside my house?
I DO giggle when I think of the idiot attorney who claimed that Mike forced me to be a politician.
Yeah....I wanted to sing outloud 'beat me, whip me, make me run for Congress!
Alas, it couldn't be done. The problem is that when you are a wanna-be politician, you can't say those things in front of a tape recorder or the .wav will find its way all over the internet.
So, I just smirked. There were no cameras.
Then I started twirling my necklace. Trust me, this hypnotist owned those lawyers. When the lead lawyer broke the trance and realized what happened, she tried to shame me. I just grinned and she abruptly ended the deposition.
I got what I wanted, tons and tons of evidence spoken into a tape recorder, typed up in pretty lines and ready to be uploaded to a website detailing the antics of abusive employers.
I was in rare form that day.
Still, I don't know what exactly is going on.
I've been trying to escape this marriage since December of '00, when he left the first time. He left me because his family disowned him. I didn't know my place, they said. I was supposed to give up school to tend to their every need.
I didn't. I just went from an in class schedule to an online course schedule and met with my professors while my ex was at work. It took three times as long as usual. I had to take out loans but I met my requirements and graduated without pissing him off. He never celebrated my graduation.
At the same time, I helped him get his degree. I helped him write papers, did the childcare, and stay organized. We celebrated his graduation.
When I wouldn't quit school, they disowned him and started a campaign of harassment against me.
Families can be weird. I get that.
Employers? City Governments?
That's were I get lost.
No...here's the part I really don't get.
Why would his boss, a Tax Audit Supervisor for the city in which I live, repeat the exact same gossip my mother-in-law tells everyone in a court of law?
Either he bad-mouthed me and she participated in the abuse by repeating it.....or his mother knows his former boss.
I'll get to the bottom of it.
I wonder if I can sue them for emotional distress. I still hear the gossip in public by former city employees...
to this very day...
Next time, it would behoove Ms. Donnielle and her lawyers to refrain from repeating gossip. Sometimes it makes political activists go away....other times it makes them angry enough to be a thorn in your boss's side.
Love,
S.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Worshipping Lilith
[A] woman is always under male authority, first her father, then her husband, and perhaps, someday, her son.” And if she wants out, she can’t get out, because she’s been systematically denied the economic and social power necessary to escape.
A quote from "The War on Contraception Goes Mainstream"
Yes, my mother was Mormon. I know all about crappy patriarchy.
My father was an abusive atheist (an aspiring actor in Hollywood, too) and one of the first people who would quote the Bible when beating the crap out of you to justify his lack of self-control.
It's always the atheists that abuse in the name of God. It's always the jerks that never read the Bible that use it to abuse other people.
My step-father was Cherokee. His tribe had matriarchal power. I'm not sure how well that worked when his mother married a baptist, though. I'm surprised no one got killed during that marriage.
My Grandmother was Pentecostal. In that view, we have no gender. We are all equal to do as God wants us to do.
I've seen it all.
I really, really, really have a hard time with members of the religious right who run around claiming that women were made to service men. We were made from his rib to suck on his bone.
yadda...yadda...yadda....
Not true says the former theology student....
Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”
27 So God created man in his own image,
in the image of God he created him;
male and female he created them.
in the image of God he created him;
male and female he created them.
28 And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” 29 And God said, “Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit. You shall have them for food.
-Genesis 1:26-29
God creates man and woman from earth....
-and-
2 Male and female he created them, and he blessed them and named them Man when they were created.
-Genesis 5:2
Why do those Christians that hate divorce so much always forget about Adam's first wife Lilith.
If you want to convince me of your sexism, at least understand your own religion. God made Lilith first. She wanted to have fun sex with Adam. He was boring in the sack, so she left with the demons because they were more fun.
Lilith is still said to be having sex with the sons of Adam, panting atop their chests as they sleep at night.
This is why god created Eve. Adam was overwhelmed by a woman created to be his equal.
- 16 And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: 17 But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die. 18 And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him. 19 And out of the ground the LORD God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam to see what he would call them: and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof. 20 And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field; but for Adam there was not found an help meet for him. 21 And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; 22 And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man. 23 And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. 24 Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.
-Genesis 2:16-24
God has to change the fruit eating rule and create another female so Adam doesn't have to be alone.
Men are descended from a stupid man who wanted control so darn much that he failed to adapt. His wife left, he couldn't handle it so he had to get another companion. It doesn't mean we are all beneath men nor does it mean that we were meant to obey. I mean, like Lilith, most women are geared to get tired of the crap boring, stupid men pull and eventually, should they disgust us enough, leave for a better life of freedom.
The Creator never took that freedom loving strong spirit away from women.
In fact, some of us can get to the point of embracing evil when pushed a little too far.
Love,
S.
Oh....and one more thing. The government that can force you to carry a child can force you to kill it. Be mindful of what the conservatives are really trying to do. Are you familiar with Agenda 21?
Google it.
They want a one world government. They plan on having it mirror China. They plan on a one world religion.
Now heed this....
If they can ban birth control, they can force sterilization.
If they can ban abortions, they can force them.
When it comes to keeping our tax dollars out of the hands of the people, it won't be long before politicians realize that culling the population will allow them to keep more of the wealth to themselves and their base.
What are they really after?
Think about it and heed my warning before it is too late.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Worst Thing to Say During a Separation
"I knew we were soul mates and that, no matter what I did, you'd stay with me."
-My Estranged Spouse
(explaining his abuse over the past 20 years)
Sometimes women can't afford the baloney. If I stay, he'll continue to destroy me financially.
If I leave, he'll be financially castrated.
But....his lying and behavior has destroyed my chances of economic survival.
The courts want me to count on him for economic support. If he's trying to destroy me now, what is he going to do if I stay in this house without the ability to pay for it myself?
If I leave, he'll be financially castrated.
But....his lying and behavior has destroyed my chances of economic survival.
The courts want me to count on him for economic support. If he's trying to destroy me now, what is he going to do if I stay in this house without the ability to pay for it myself?
Darn....
I don't want to be the brat.
I don't want to be the brat.
I can't trust him anymore. More and more bill collectors are calling. My credit is trashed.
The lawyers say that I need to keep the house and take custody of the children because he chose a job so far away with crazy hours.
That was not my intention.
He wants the house.
When he was working at the city, my intention was to leave him the house and custody while I went on the road to earn money to support the kids.
Then he was fired, for what his boss described in an email sent to me during my mayoral campaign for being 'fat and lazy'. Of course, that was after they, his boss and the city lawyers, lied their asses off in court claiming they fired him for not meeting an unethical quota.
His boss, Donnielle, gave him a larger quota than the other auditors to meet within 60 days (all the other auditors had a year) and then fired him before the time expired. I read a court transcript where she said she fired him because of my auto-immune disease and my advanced degree (and other things). She slandered us and stole $500 from us.
His former boss, ultimately blamed me for his job loss in a transcribed court hearing. He's been nasty to me since. Thus, her lies made a difficult situation intolerable.
She gave him bad references. Once, when I went to breakfast at a local restaurant and ran into a group of former auditors that told me Donielle had claimed that Mike was in group therapy for being violent.
He was in group therapy for people dealing with alcoholics: his boss allegedly drank and abused staff at night on the phone which triggered his issue with a father who drank years ago.
He quit therapy and has been impossible to live with since because a stupid, lying, snot lied about him!
We aren't the only people she's defamed and slandered. She begs for personal information, twists it, and has the lawyers use it to harass people. That explains the bizarre phone call from the city attorney. That explains the lies in the court document.
She had no right asking about our medical conditions....nor did she have a right complaining publicly about it but since everyone knows anyway, I have no vested interest in keeping quiet anymore.
It's all documented on a website. Everything is uploaded to two servers. Stupid bureaucrats...they love to put everything in writing. That is their undoing.
I'm angry because I'm unable to clean up the mess she made. It's still impacting me. If I have to continue living in this city because of a court order, then I will push for her firing and expose the misbehavior of her boss, Robin.
I won't have to do anything more than continue to upload and scan all the documents the lawyers sent to me. They have the names of the guilty parties and the lies that they've told. Donielle and Robin may never find a job once I do that because the words that flow from their mouths and that one can read from their emails speak to petty abuse of employees and putting employers at risk of lawsuits.
I will name them publicly unless an offer of restitution is made..could be a letter of reference for Mike because after all the slanderous job reviews,the only person that would give him a job was a former employer. I also want my $500 back and a rule change so this doesn't ever happen to anyone else again.
They won't do that. I've asked already. It's time for black magick.
I swore it off years ago...but...when fighting evil - sometimes it's what one needs to do.
Besides, my demons are bored and restless. They're looking for a task...Should I?
Karma has some fun things in store for people who play with the lives of others. May Donnielle and Nemesis meet on a dark road in the middle of nowhere. I've had so many spells cast on that city building that the idiot who pulled that crap (and any lawyer whose helped) will have bad luck so long as they work at the building. Loss of a marriage? Slander? Harassment by Cop? Stolen money? They'll get what they've done to me ten fold.
The cops, firemen, council, and cafeteria workers have a protection spell over them.
The remedy is to give your lovely janitor holy water to mop with but that will destroy the protection spells.
Is she for real? Or is she messing with us?
Only Siegfred knows for sure.
As far as the family, I only wanted what was best for everyone. I fear what will happen if he doesn't get the house.
Last year I found an apartment complex that I was planning on moving into. I found a nearby office. I opened a business license in the area. Up until this evening I was looking for a full-time job.
Since he left the city, I know not who he is anymore.
I don't trust him to pay child support. I will.
I don't trust him to save for their college. I will.
I just need to work long hours and bring up my ability to earn money.
That was not my intention.
He wants the house.
When he was working at the city, my intention was to leave him the house and custody while I went on the road to earn money to support the kids.
Then he was fired, for what his boss described in an email sent to me during my mayoral campaign for being 'fat and lazy'. Of course, that was after they, his boss and the city lawyers, lied their asses off in court claiming they fired him for not meeting an unethical quota.
His boss, Donnielle, gave him a larger quota than the other auditors to meet within 60 days (all the other auditors had a year) and then fired him before the time expired. I read a court transcript where she said she fired him because of my auto-immune disease and my advanced degree (and other things). She slandered us and stole $500 from us.
His former boss, ultimately blamed me for his job loss in a transcribed court hearing. He's been nasty to me since. Thus, her lies made a difficult situation intolerable.
She gave him bad references. Once, when I went to breakfast at a local restaurant and ran into a group of former auditors that told me Donielle had claimed that Mike was in group therapy for being violent.
He was in group therapy for people dealing with alcoholics: his boss allegedly drank and abused staff at night on the phone which triggered his issue with a father who drank years ago.
He quit therapy and has been impossible to live with since because a stupid, lying, snot lied about him!
We aren't the only people she's defamed and slandered. She begs for personal information, twists it, and has the lawyers use it to harass people. That explains the bizarre phone call from the city attorney. That explains the lies in the court document.
She had no right asking about our medical conditions....nor did she have a right complaining publicly about it but since everyone knows anyway, I have no vested interest in keeping quiet anymore.
It's all documented on a website. Everything is uploaded to two servers. Stupid bureaucrats...they love to put everything in writing. That is their undoing.
I'm angry because I'm unable to clean up the mess she made. It's still impacting me. If I have to continue living in this city because of a court order, then I will push for her firing and expose the misbehavior of her boss, Robin.
I won't have to do anything more than continue to upload and scan all the documents the lawyers sent to me. They have the names of the guilty parties and the lies that they've told. Donielle and Robin may never find a job once I do that because the words that flow from their mouths and that one can read from their emails speak to petty abuse of employees and putting employers at risk of lawsuits.
I will name them publicly unless an offer of restitution is made..could be a letter of reference for Mike because after all the slanderous job reviews,the only person that would give him a job was a former employer. I also want my $500 back and a rule change so this doesn't ever happen to anyone else again.
They won't do that. I've asked already. It's time for black magick.
I swore it off years ago...but...when fighting evil - sometimes it's what one needs to do.
Besides, my demons are bored and restless. They're looking for a task...Should I?
Karma has some fun things in store for people who play with the lives of others. May Donnielle and Nemesis meet on a dark road in the middle of nowhere. I've had so many spells cast on that city building that the idiot who pulled that crap (and any lawyer whose helped) will have bad luck so long as they work at the building. Loss of a marriage? Slander? Harassment by Cop? Stolen money? They'll get what they've done to me ten fold.
The cops, firemen, council, and cafeteria workers have a protection spell over them.
The remedy is to give your lovely janitor holy water to mop with but that will destroy the protection spells.
Is she for real? Or is she messing with us?
Only Siegfred knows for sure.
As far as the family, I only wanted what was best for everyone. I fear what will happen if he doesn't get the house.
Last year I found an apartment complex that I was planning on moving into. I found a nearby office. I opened a business license in the area. Up until this evening I was looking for a full-time job.
Since he left the city, I know not who he is anymore.
I don't trust him to pay child support. I will.
I don't trust him to save for their college. I will.
I just need to work long hours and bring up my ability to earn money.
I never wanted to take everything away from him. I just wanted to live without constant economic surprises due to lying.
I'm afraid he's going to kill himself.
I'm terrified.
Please pray for us.
I just can't afford any more surprises.
The blog will go dark in the next few days as I have to do the inevitable. I will, however, carve out more time to expose the abuse we endured at the city because, to be quite truthful, they haven't taken responsibility for slandering me nor promised to stop slandering and fining other people.
Love ya,
S.
P.S. It's not enough that I'm broke and have no health insurance. I found a lump on my upper torso a couple of weeks ago. I've had throbbing pains that make me want to vomit. I figured it was stress.
This morning that part of my body is swollen, painful, and oozing something weird.
I googled it and its a potential sign of cancer .
I'm still uninsured.
Pagans have remedies for this kind of thing if it hasn't gone on too far. Many of the remedies have been made illegal in recent years. I can't get raw un-irradiated almonds anymore. I can't get food grade h202 anymore. I don't know if I could drive to Mexico and get what I need to heal myself.
I was diagnosed with a brain tumor at twenty. It was a misdiagnosis but I did all these crazy things to get better. The protocol seemed to slow down my aging, so I kept it up until they made finding these things impossible.
I still have oregano oil and some powdered vitamin c. Maybe I just have an infection. We'll see.
If its cancer, by the time I get to a doctor I'm a goner. I'm not going to be too happy.
Be forewarned.
If I'm slated to go to hell soon anyway, why not allow my Ifrits a bit of fun? I've kept them holed up and away from people that piss me off because last time I cleaned one of the lamps, I got a call telling me that the chick who lied about me had a stroke.
Then I was told it wasn't a stroke but a car accident.
The vessels are a bit dusty. What's the harm in cleaning them while thinking about revenge against a couple of compulsive liars that are making my life a living hell?
I love these people that play video games. They have no clue. Magick doesn't work like that. It is slow and the best magick works in ways that make one wonder if it all wasn't just a coincidence.
Still...
I'll take my medicine and try to rest. But be forewarned. If you think I'm an evil witch, just what am I capable of doing?
And...for the moron caught hanging out in my garage. Are you sure my scary stuff is at my house?
It's not. Some are with friends. Some are in safe deposit boxes. Some are in my car. Some are buried in a field. One of my objects was left on the fifth floor of the city building. My ex refused to retrieve it and return it to me.
I feel sorry for any soul that finds it. I am assuming that it was kept away from the window. Moonlight will charge it. If it's hidden at the bottom of a filing cabinet we will be good.
It was given to me by the daughter of a Satanist. I've spent a lot of time cleansing the objects she sends.
That object at the city building came with a note saying it would make the owner have power over his or her lovers but, knowing my experience with the objects this lady sends to me and other collectors....
it will only bring bad luck to the people in its periphery.
If I liked the boss, I'd tell her what to look for. But, she's nasty to me...so....I'll let them try to figure out what it is and how to cleanse the energy of whatever it touches.
Which is a shame...I have an object that seeks out information about evil-doers. For a political activist, like me, it is a cause of trouble for a lot of people. For tax auditors, it would be a nice thing to have in an office.
I'm not giving that one up.
And, one final note, being psychic really sucks when the people around you lie. You can see the firings before they happen. You can see the collection notices before the bills aren't paid. You can see the job opportunities, the future girlfriends, even the sales on food and clothing.
None of this does any good if every time you ask the people living with you about it and they lie.
If you ask them if they paid the bills, they'll lie and say yes. If you ask if they need jeans because you know that Old Navy will be marking them down to $5 and they lie, you miss the sale and have to spend $50 when you notice the crotch of their pants ripped. If you ask your spouse if he's getting fired, he'll say 'no' because Donnielle promised to help him meet his quota rather than harass the lady at Kroger because the city wants him to focus on compliance not revenue (yet he gets fired for not bringing in a quota and I get told he was fired because he was married to me and my campaign manager gets an email saying he was fired for being obese...not happy).
Man, that brass lamp is looking like it could use a good polishing....
The point is that being a psychic doesn't help if no one listens.
It's fun running for office, though. You know who the winner is before he does!
Cheerio!!
A Vision Explained
I made the man in the basement buy a safer car.
He told me we had more money than we did, so I made him spend more than he wanted to spend.
But, it's safe. It has low miles. It's paid for in full. It's fairly old but it is a model that is tried and tested. The insurance will be cheap, too.
I know I did the right thing.
In the summer of 2010, I wrote about a vision I had where a green sedan was driving on the highway and veered off into a ravine. The driver died of a heart attack. The post may have been hidden due to the election.
For nearly two years, I feared Mike was the driver of that car. This is one reason why I asked him to get rid of the green sedan.
This happened yesterday morning. I'm not sure if the driver died. All I know is that a driver veered across a highway and struck an oxygen tank that Mike was behind. The driver ended up in a ravine and the jaws of life had to be used to extracate him from the car.
Luckily, the oxygen truck was hit in the front rather than behind (where the oxygen is stored). There was no explosion.
Mike is a little shaken. I think he has PTSD.
I don't know what to do with that man right now. He needs to focus on solving the problem we face due to our inability to communicate about paying the bills and holding jobs.
Thought I'd give an update for anyone who remembers me telling them of the vision.
Oh, and it happened five months earlier than I predicted but at the same place and the same time.
It's kind of eerie.
I pray that the driver of the green sedan is alive.
Love,
S.
He told me we had more money than we did, so I made him spend more than he wanted to spend.
But, it's safe. It has low miles. It's paid for in full. It's fairly old but it is a model that is tried and tested. The insurance will be cheap, too.
I know I did the right thing.
In the summer of 2010, I wrote about a vision I had where a green sedan was driving on the highway and veered off into a ravine. The driver died of a heart attack. The post may have been hidden due to the election.
For nearly two years, I feared Mike was the driver of that car. This is one reason why I asked him to get rid of the green sedan.
This happened yesterday morning. I'm not sure if the driver died. All I know is that a driver veered across a highway and struck an oxygen tank that Mike was behind. The driver ended up in a ravine and the jaws of life had to be used to extracate him from the car.
Luckily, the oxygen truck was hit in the front rather than behind (where the oxygen is stored). There was no explosion.
Mike is a little shaken. I think he has PTSD.
I don't know what to do with that man right now. He needs to focus on solving the problem we face due to our inability to communicate about paying the bills and holding jobs.
Thought I'd give an update for anyone who remembers me telling them of the vision.
Oh, and it happened five months earlier than I predicted but at the same place and the same time.
It's kind of eerie.
I pray that the driver of the green sedan is alive.
Love,
S.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
In Tears and Screaming
So...
The man in the basement stopped paying the bills. He lied to me and said he was still current on the credit cards and that we didn't need to file bankruptcy now.
As of Sunday, he said we were current.
He lied.
I found out this morning when a bill collector called me.
The man in the basement claimed we had $3,000 in the bank.
He said he stopped paying the bills because he wants me to put the money towards office rental.
How in the heck is that going to happen without decent credit? I won't be able to get a lease agreement.
I'm so hurt.
Why does he make decisions that impact me without discussing them with me?
He begged and pleaded with me to stay to help him with the kids and doing that destroyed me financially. I was fine 3 years ago when I tried to leave. I stayed. I honored my vows and that man lied to me.
I mean....he wants to live like roommates for the sake of the children. I can't do that if he's not paying the bills.
I can't afford to do housekeeping for him if I need to work to pay the bills.
He's a nut to expect me to continue like this without talking to me. Even roommates have to communicate once in a while.
Geesh!!
I need to find a way to file for a divorce and if this blogs goes blank, you'll know exactly what has happened.
I'm screaming.
I'm in pain.
I don't know which lawyer to call first...a bankruptcy one or a divorce one.
I don't have enough money to pay for my attorney.
Damn.....as of today, I fear that I actually hate that man in the basement!
I wish I had a divorced friend to talk to. I don't know where to start.
At least, I won't miss sex or companionship when I leave....I haven't had those things in years. I just won't know where to move or how to juggle helping him with the kids and holding a job.
This is bizarre. It's what I deserve for trying to do the right thing.
I should know better than to trust a compulsive liar.
Love ya,
S.
P.S. Happy Valentine's Day
Edit: So...I was told we had $3,000 after we paid a $972 mortgage payment.
He lied. We have $800.
Doesn't he work? Doesn't he work a job that paid so well that I was expected to give up my business so he could work 50+ hours a week?
Apparently not...
WE HAD $17,000 in the bank last summer.
Why in heck do I stay in a house and share my finances with a liar?
That's another story.
He was fine for years....until....his mother gave him an ultimatum. He was to choose between her or me.
He didn't choose.
He ignored both of us and slowly started a campaign to get me to leave.
I think he found the last straw.
He's left me three times.
The first time I let him come back and stayed in our house it was because he was alone because his parents abandoned him.
The second time I let him come back and stayed in our house because he had lost his job and I didn't want to kick him when he was down.
The third time it was because he was over 500 pounds and I didn't want him to die alone. I tried to help him lose the weight. I tried. I was hoping with the settlement money he could get the gastric bypass surgery or go on Phentermine or something....but...
$800
I can't help him much with that.
How in the world can I have a secure financial life with a man that lies about money?
There is no intimacy...hasn't been any for years...I can fake nearly anything.....but not being able to pay my creditors or buy heat....that's going to darn far.
I'm still not sleeping. I'm going to try to catch some zzzz's in the morning.
The man in the basement stopped paying the bills. He lied to me and said he was still current on the credit cards and that we didn't need to file bankruptcy now.
As of Sunday, he said we were current.
He lied.
I found out this morning when a bill collector called me.
The man in the basement claimed we had $3,000 in the bank.
He said he stopped paying the bills because he wants me to put the money towards office rental.
How in the heck is that going to happen without decent credit? I won't be able to get a lease agreement.
I'm so hurt.
Why does he make decisions that impact me without discussing them with me?
He begged and pleaded with me to stay to help him with the kids and doing that destroyed me financially. I was fine 3 years ago when I tried to leave. I stayed. I honored my vows and that man lied to me.
I mean....he wants to live like roommates for the sake of the children. I can't do that if he's not paying the bills.
I can't afford to do housekeeping for him if I need to work to pay the bills.
He's a nut to expect me to continue like this without talking to me. Even roommates have to communicate once in a while.
Geesh!!
I need to find a way to file for a divorce and if this blogs goes blank, you'll know exactly what has happened.
I'm screaming.
I'm in pain.
I don't know which lawyer to call first...a bankruptcy one or a divorce one.
I don't have enough money to pay for my attorney.
Damn.....as of today, I fear that I actually hate that man in the basement!
I wish I had a divorced friend to talk to. I don't know where to start.
At least, I won't miss sex or companionship when I leave....I haven't had those things in years. I just won't know where to move or how to juggle helping him with the kids and holding a job.
This is bizarre. It's what I deserve for trying to do the right thing.
I should know better than to trust a compulsive liar.
Love ya,
S.
P.S. Happy Valentine's Day
Edit: So...I was told we had $3,000 after we paid a $972 mortgage payment.
He lied. We have $800.
Doesn't he work? Doesn't he work a job that paid so well that I was expected to give up my business so he could work 50+ hours a week?
Apparently not...
WE HAD $17,000 in the bank last summer.
Why in heck do I stay in a house and share my finances with a liar?
That's another story.
He was fine for years....until....his mother gave him an ultimatum. He was to choose between her or me.
He didn't choose.
He ignored both of us and slowly started a campaign to get me to leave.
I think he found the last straw.
He's left me three times.
The first time I let him come back and stayed in our house it was because he was alone because his parents abandoned him.
The second time I let him come back and stayed in our house because he had lost his job and I didn't want to kick him when he was down.
The third time it was because he was over 500 pounds and I didn't want him to die alone. I tried to help him lose the weight. I tried. I was hoping with the settlement money he could get the gastric bypass surgery or go on Phentermine or something....but...
$800
I can't help him much with that.
How in the world can I have a secure financial life with a man that lies about money?
There is no intimacy...hasn't been any for years...I can fake nearly anything.....but not being able to pay my creditors or buy heat....that's going to darn far.
I'm still not sleeping. I'm going to try to catch some zzzz's in the morning.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Arbecht Macht Frei
I'm on food stamps. I'm on medicaid.
I never signed up.
The man in the basement did.
The county social workers can't remove me because I didn't sign up -but- they can demand that I quit my business and work for less than $1 per hour in foodstamps.
I'm freakin' furious.
It's a sad day when you realize that marriage gives another person license over what you do.
I'm not happy with this at all.
There are times when one realizes that marriage is not a good thing. The man is a potential stranger. What do I do?
The conservative politicians I know are telling me that I must stay in my marriage at all costs. They are telling me to put the kids first, to stay home and make sure that they are doing everything in their power to get good grades.
Only after the baloney here is settled, then I can look for work.
The problem is the social policies those weirdos voted in....they say that I must work first, then and only if the workfare job allows me to, stay home when the kids are here at night so that I can keep them from becoming truant, pregnant teens.
What they say to do and what they demand that I do are two very different things. The local social services department told me that the government claims my contributions at home are worthless unless I make $217.00 per week.
I'm not joking. She said that the politicians want to push marriage. Yep...married women don't fall into the trap of poverty.
Then, since I stayed in a shitty marriage, why in the world did she call me?
Hmmm....
As far as the $217 is concerned....
Sometimes I make that amount.
Sometimes I don't.
When I have an office I make that in an hour.
When I don't, I have to sell an awful lot of CDs to meet that demand.
Elder care doesn't count, according to the government. Nope...I spent 10 hours on Saturday helping a woman in a retirement center but that isn't contributing to society.
Nope...I've got to do the work the government says counts. Never mind if I saved medicare some cash on butt wiping. That doesn't count....only the crap jobs the social worker says count.
Upon providing feedback, I had one snot at the county ask me, in a condescending tone, if I had a background in social work.
Yep, I sure do and politics, too! I also earned a grad degree in psychology after my stint at the county. So many people working there had mental issues, I had to go back to school.
Trust me on this, I am uniquely qualified enough to say that politicians make piss poor social workers!
According to the county, child care doesn't count as a worthwhile contribution to society, unless I charge for it. Watching my grandaughter to keep her off TANF doesn't count. If I want to charge strangers to babysit, I need licensed and I need to get over my fear of the auditor chick who lies about me at the city building.
The lawyers representing the city told me that she's threatened to audit anything I do...
So...I can't make money from home. I really, really, really want to move.
I wonder how conservative politicians sleep at night? Really? I mean, if women are supposed to stay home barefoot and pregnant, how can they justify pushing the married ones into the world of paid employment against the wishes of their husbands?
They assume every woman listed on the medicaid/food stamp rolls are single mothers.
I've been trying to get my name off of medicaid and food stamps as I won't touch the benefits anyway. It's not working. I've whined, sent emails, letters and spoken to at least three reps yet I am still listed as what they term as a lazy tax hog: Last November, a county social worker called me lazy and said I needed to learn discipline and get out of the house to do something for the community. Uh...I don't think he reads the newspaper or votes.
If I were lazy, politicos wouldn't have had cops sit in front of my house to intimidate me and no one would give a hairy rat's behind my opinion of anything.
I've ratted Mr. Dumb Social Worker out to the people in charge. I hope I got that little idiot fired. Maybe having to get unemployment will put a chill in his stereotypical bottom.
I think the county is keeping me on the rolls so that they can up their numbers and beg for more money from lawmakers.
The county wants me to do workfare. I can't afford to work 30+ hours for free. The daycare alone will cost me $180 a week. The benefits my ex will get equal about $125. It doesn't come out in the wash, especially for me as I have no say in where the funds go.
According to the politicos, work isn't work unless I can make $217 each and every week or allow a greedy corporate stooge to profit from my free labor.
That's not going to happen.
Sorry...I do a lot of work pro bono now just so I don't have to get a business license and tango with the snotty, lying, gossipy Tax Audit Supervisor. I'm practically giving my inventory away until I sign another lease.
It'll work out. I have faith. I'm looking at another office tomorrow and it is nowhere near a memory.
Last night, I whined to a conservative about being thrown on the rolls and unable to leave.
I'm so freakin' mad.
I also spent two hours on the treadmill.
I do my best thinking when I'm drenched in sweat.
Guess what???
I know why they won't let public employees have workplace rights and why they abuse them to the hilt!!! .
Because if they extended workplace protections to public employees, they would have to extend them to workfare workers!!!
I have to throw out my study now and start over!!
I'd love to get the unions in here to represent the workers fined $500 due to gossip and protect the workfare workers picking up needles off the side of the highway without proper protection.
Let's make it too damn expensive for the county to abuse the poor!!
I prayed for years wanting to know how to conduct my study to help families. God made me broke, bankrupted me and let a social worker kill what was left of my marriage because I am a worthless pile of shit for being conservative and putting my husband's wishes first....
but, low and behold,
I know what to do now!!
Hang on to your hats!!
This is gonna get real fun - real fast.
Love ya,
S.
P.S. Arbecht macht frei was the slogan posted on the doors of Auschwitz.
P.S.S. Just so you know, we spend less on actual aid to the poor in the entire country than we do our office of Economic Affairs...
I'm not happy about that.
The people in economic affairs aren't doing their jobs if the welfare rolls are burgeoning.
We spent the same amount on welfare in 2010 that we did in 1992, in spite of the rising costs of living and the greatest recession.
Do you think our people are better off?
Really?
How much of our GDP was spent on welfare related programs in 2003?
50%
10%
2%
No.
Just 0.0098%
If we want to complain about moochers, then we must look at corporate welfare first.
Workfare (and Prisonfare) is just a way to provide free or low cost labor to corporations. I don't like it and neither should you.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Soul Ties
The other day I spoke to a Christian minister about immorality and ungodly soul ties.
It is possible that I have one.
The conversation is starting to fade in my head now, so I'll try to share what I remember in case it helps someone else.
I'm not sure what to think about it. I mean, his pep talk echos what my Cherokee step-father would preach about pre-marital attachments with the opposite sex except that it contained snippets of Christian sexism in that the minister was justifying domestic violence.
Let's see...
He said that good friends can develop soul ties. We develop them by loving someone more than we love ourselves.
I can see that.
We can develop them with members of the opposite sex by sharing hopes and dreams, worshipping with them, and planning a future together. Sexual activities, in and of themselves, are not necessary.
Sex, though, does create a bond - especially with the first love.
Oh...
Then there was something about God making women so that they put up with all sorts of abuse thrown at them by their first loves and men being made to protect them at all costs.
I need to embrace Christianity and renounce the soul tie. It would be more effective if my old friend would do the same thing.
Okay....
I may get it...I may not.
No one else has let me go to church with them or gave a damn about the future. I can see, maybe, why my first love has a soul tie with me.
The dreams are bugging me. I'm still waking up around 3:30 every morning, no matter what time I get to bed or how much vodka I down.
I need to understand...
Sex...a lady doesn't remember such things at that age.
I don't remember putting up with crap from him. I remember telling him that he was responsible for his own...uh...turbidity and gave him tissues and lotion. I remember handing him a shovel to work off his....uh....emotional state. He was a devout Christian: I wasn't going to let him go to hell over a lack of self-control.
He did shake me once....only once. He couldn't stand how frightened I looked. He was angry because I was alone in my home for over a week and wouldn't let anyone in the door without my family present. After he pounded on the door for several minutes and threatened to call the police, I relented and he came in the house and shook me. It was a cold winter day, he was probably angry and shivering.
He never pulled that stunt again.
Teenage girls ought not let young men in their homes when they are alone. What was he thinking?
When I go into hypnosis and ask my subconscious mind when I vowed to love him, I get an image of him playing a broken guitar.
My dad would buy me any instrument he found. Some of them worked, others did not. He gave me a crappy acoustic with a crack in the back. I didn't have the heart to throw it away, so I used it for a decoration. At Christmas, I didn't have a tree. Nope, I decorated the crappy guitar.
I had an image of Tom playing that beat up guitar hanging on my wall, showing me that it wasn't quite as damaged as I thought it was. Now, Tom doesn't know this but he has a 'tell'. He always does certain things when he's thinking of things that would make me blush.
His face goes white. His eyes get watery. His eyes start to narrow and glow. He tilts his head to his right and moves in closer. This is the sign that he wants more than he should.
I always ask 'what'?
He always says 'nothing'.
This is true as of the last time I saw him. Thankfully, I'm not sure if I was the person behind the thoughts.
On that fall day in '86, the air got thick and he exhibited his classic 'tell' but this time, I didn't ask any question. Nope...in my memory I tell him that I think I'm falling in love with him.
At this moment, he chastised me. One ought not to fall in love because one would always fall out.
He told me he loved me.
I promised to love him that day and every day. I've kept the promise.
This is the origin of my soul tie, at least according to my subconscious mind.
Darn it....
I hate Valentine's Day. I hate a little piece of land in a place called Sheridan.
I was offerred a free office overlooking that spot a couple weeks ago in exchange for bringing in business to a spa. I turned it down Friday because I couldn't handle the memory.
In '87, that spot housed a motel which has since been demolished.
Our relationship took a dive on Valentine's Day in '87. He broke my heart.
I was planning to spend the evening with my Grandfather. After school, Tom followed me on the bus to a mall. Grandpa wasn't home. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I took him to a vintage era photographer. We picked out saloon era costumes and had our photo snapped. He dressed up as a drunk and I in a very skimpy saloon girl costume. I bought two copies of the photos for $40 (two days salary at the time): one for him and one for me.
All he could do is complain that I didn't smile the right way. He had a filthy and funny expression on his face. I just smiled my genuine smile because my best friend was by my side.
Still, we fought about my wrong smile.
I was hurt.
We fought so much that we missed the last bus home. Grandfather wasn't home, so I ended up renting a room at a motel and urged Tom to call his father for a ride home.
He wouldn't. He didn't want to leave me alone in a scary part of town.
I was so pissed at him. He wasn't going to get lucky.
I won't tell you what happened next but it wasn't good.
It had to do with alleged drug use and me being a snarky, cold @#$#@.
I think that's the day our relationship went downhill.
I remember being sad a lot after that.
I hate Valentine's Day.
Expectations...too many expectations.
I've spent the past few years trying to find that picture so I can burn it. It's missing along with Tom's break up note. I know if anyone sees it, I'll never hear the end of it.
The break up note....
I'm confused.
When people piss me off and hand me notes. I won't read them.
On May 1, 1987 Tom handed me a note and said he was leaving me. I stuffed it in a yearbook where it sat for twenty years. The night before I told him about a scholarship to a music program.
I cried about the scholarship because I didn't want to take it. I wanted to be here for my grandfather and my friend. I wanted to go to school in town.
A week before my 20th high school reunion, I was in Mike's bedroom crying. I graduated with my master's degree two years before and felt that life was passing me by. I wanted a reason to wake up in the morning. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted a job and regretted turning down the position in the Ph.D program studying media as a means to ease anxiety.
We fought. He wasn't listening. He just took a job working for the city. I needed to be here so that he could work crazy hours without worrying about the family.
Why do I have to give up who I am to be loved by him? Why can't my life goals mean anything?
My yearbooks were shoved on a shelf in his closet. Mike stood up and got something out of the closet at which point my yearbooks fell down.
Tom's note fell into Mike's hand.
He read it aloud before stopping.
I'll get in the way of the things you want to do in life, so I'm leaving you.
Then, Mike said that someone didn't want to leave me. Tom didn't sign the letter but it was obvious who it was from. In the letter, he promised to always be there if I wanted him and basically vowed eternal love.
It was a surreal moment. Mike fell silent. We stopped fighting about what I could do with my life. Those talks make me think of Tom, so it's easier to stay quiet now.
Mike lost his job a year later. I've heard an earful about things since then. The thing that comes to mind is his interpretation of a horoscope my mother cast for me before she died.
I have Venus in Leo or something....maybe it is Mercury in Libra...I don't know.
But mom wrote that my first marriage would stun everyone. Yep, it stunned me. I walked into my boyfriend's mother's house to run into a minister and a dress hanging on the door. They had to pry me out of the bathroom with a promise of an annulment to get the deed done to appease his mother.
My second marriage would be prolific. Yep...if he sneezes, I'm pregnant. The man doesn't even sleep with me. Could you imagine the shoe I'd have to live in if he was attracted to me and held me at night? Wow....three is enough.
Mom wrote that my third marriage would be happy. There won't be a third unless someone beats me in the head with a hammer again or I go senile.
Astrology is crap. I don't know why Scorpios only ask me out. I don't know why Geminis like to touch places that get them slapped. Or why Pisces look at me like they want to barricade themselves into a bedroom with tofu and leather after they try to solve all my problems.
I guess everyone else buys into astrology, so it helps to understand it and see their false personas.
It is still crap.
But Mike took that horiblescope as a reason not to fix things with me.
He's recanting now. He needs my help.
I'm stuck.
This is painful. I wonder, though, about the soul tie thing. Could my ungodly soul tie to Tom make it hard for me to commit to Mike?
Would it help if Mike would talk to me about the future? or go to church with me? or give a crap about my hopes and dreams?
In '08, Tom met me in our home town and I told him about the Cherokee ritual of breaking sticks to end constant thoughts of a former flame by returning pieces of his soul to him.
He asked me if it worked. By the sheer number of piles of broken twigs I placed around the trees in the weeks before meeting him, it was obvious that it had not worked.
In '08, Tom met me in our home town and I told him about the Cherokee ritual of breaking sticks to end constant thoughts of a former flame by returning pieces of his soul to him.
He asked me if it worked. By the sheer number of piles of broken twigs I placed around the trees in the weeks before meeting him, it was obvious that it had not worked.
A month before, he wrote and said I was the freshest memory in his mind, so I tried to get Tom to perform a ritual to break it that day. All I needed to do was buy red ribbon from the lady at the flower shop and have him cut it. He told me he'd do it later.
This isn't right. If he's hurting like I am. It's not fair to either one of us.
I hesitate to do it by myself for fear of hurting him yet I may do it anyway next Saturday.
If the ritual doesn't work, I'm going to hypnotize myself to believe he's gay.
That ought to work...maybe....last time I was convinced that he wanted more than I could be and that helped ease the pain.
If the ritual works and the soul tie is broken... my blog will get a heck of a lot more interesting.
If not... I don't know.
Maybe I'll call my ex-hubby and let him take another whack at my skull.
Love ya,
S.