A Note to Teacher's Unions

Today I am thankful that I am a political activist.

I started my activism due to abuses that I personally witnessed in the public school system. 

Yep, I had a teacher set me in his lap and grab my crotch.  I saw many of my classmates sexually abused by my fourth grade teacher.  His name was Mr. Kogan.  I don't think he has ever won parole.

He threatened me and told me not to tell my parents.  I did what my daddy said to do.  He said that "do not tell" was a secret code for "tell".  So, I told my Native American step-father what the teacher tried to do to me.  The school did not want to help, so my daddy went to see the teacher and threatened to scalp him. 


That teacher never touched me again. 


That stuck with me. 

*****


When I was older and had kids, I witnessed absurd things happening to children of color.  I once saw my neighbor's young son dangled by the ankles by a white teacher.

When I interrupted her, said hi to the boy and mentioned having lunch with his mother, the teacher put him down.

The mother didn't want to touch the teacher.  She feared her retaliation.

I remember.

Worse, my daughter was nine at the time.  She saw it.  She remembers.

My daughter is a 24 year old paralegal who fights for the civil rights of the downtrodden.

I successfully fought tax hike initiatives for this school district. 

Why fund bad behavior?
That teacher and her superiors have no clue what that act has cost them.

******

Well, it has almost been fifteen years since I witnessed all of those abuses.  These teachers were young back then.  They acted like jerks. 

That teacher...the one in the anecdote....she is now one of my neighbors. 

Yep, I am not so nice to her when I see her in public.  I know what she is. 

Maybe I'll tell you what happened when I reported her*.  It's sick.


******

These teachers have a retirement account that took massive hits during the recession of 2008.

The unions are trying to renegotiate their contacts to get more money to make up the difference.  They are actually trying to get bond measures on the ballots that will go to fund these accounts.

They do not have a prayer. 

Do you know why?

The children who were mistreated two decades ago are the voting taxpayers of today. 

Behave or be bitten!


*****

I could go on and on about the abuses in the local public school system.  The schools were getting $400 perks for every kid they put on Ritalin (even though it was illegal for a teacher to recommend it).  They were kicking kids out for small infractions (like having caffeine while walking home from school) and billing the parents for summer school.

I even had one teacher steal an antique necklace that I had given to my daughter with the hypnotic suggestion that wearing the necklace would make her concentrate! 

OOOH.....and you know what?  Every time a teacher begs me to vote for a tax hike, I tell that damn story. 


That story has been in the papers.  The teachers apologize.  They tell me not to let one bad apple decide my vote. 

NO...it was several bad apples that made me the anti-tax curmudgeon that I am today.


*****

*I was 29.  I had two children.  I put my bass guitars and saxophones away to raise my family. 

I had auburn curly hair.  I had Irish translucent skin.  At the time, my eyes were brown. 

When I was a bass/sax player, everyone thought I was mulatto. 


When I went to the school district with my complaints about how white teachers were abusing the children of color, the head of elementary education told me that it was none of my business because I was not black.  Her name was Ms. M. Ray.  Ms. Mary R. went on to describe the various shades of black that would determine my ability to complain.  I'm not joking.  She was judging people based on their skin color.  She also told me that I had no business living in a predominately black neighborhood.  That woman was a true b!tch.

Feeling the need to justify my address, I told her that I was an orphan (true).  I told her that I was raised to respect minority culture (true because I was a jazz musician raised by a Native American man).  I told her that I was raised to believe that my father was black (also true but the person that told me that was blind and senile). She said that I must've chosen to live in the area due to my questions about my ethnicity! 
Did I tell you that this woman was a b!tch?  I can't believe she pulled in six figures of taxpayer money for her stupidity!  UGH!!!

How dare that stupid Ph.D. in education ask me about my heritage?  Ooooh.....I knew those children abused in her schools.  I babysat some of them.  They were angels!  I knew their mothers.  I knew their fathers.  How dare that over-educated snot get all racist on me?
I'll never forgive her for that.
I'll never forgive her for making my daughter want to be a civil rights attorney!
I hope she rots in hell.
*****

That's okay....almost every activist I know has a story to tell about the abusive public school system.

The public schools are creating their own enemy. 

They'll never win a tax hike so long as they act like racist, elitist, snobbish butt potatoes.
It only takes one snobby, uneducated representative of a company to put a bad taste in every one's mouth.
If you want to win tax hikes, don't hire jerks!

*****

My worst memory was talking to a young black boy on the elementary school grounds.  George W. Bush  had just won his first term to office and this eight year old boy asked me if he could be president some day.

Yes, he could do anything he put his mind to doing.  He was smart.  He was a leader.  He could do it!


I was reprimanded by a white assistant principal for telling the boy to study hard and believe in himself because (to quote her) "everyone knows that there will never be a black president in our lifetime."

Oooooh...it would only be eight years before that cracker b!tch would be proven wrong. 

*****

In a nutshell....the abused students of today become the taxpayers of tomorrow. 

If you want the dough, play fair or pay the price. 
Sorry, teachers, but your unions screwed up by letting some of your cohorts act like buffoons.
Maybe you can salvage your reputation with the next generation of taxpayers by actually giving a crap about your students and not protecting molesters and abusers. 

Love ya,


S.

Internet Personalities (with Edits)

Today I may or may not be thankful for crazy internet personalities.

I think the jury is still out with regard to one person. 

I think this man and I met on a stalking page at Google+ a couple of years ago. 

This guy used to have great ideas for keeping Shannon at bay.  He told me to buy a bar for the front door.  He mentioned switching the locks and had various other ideas to help me. 

This man is fairly young.

He's also a voice over artist, like I am.

For some reason, he's been copying and sharing my statuses on Facebook every day for about three months.

Some of my status updates are incredibly personal.

At first, I didn't mind.

I don't know what to think now. 

I have to say that he is NOT a Facebook friend.

He does not follow me on Facebook, Google, Twitter, or any other social network.

He simply copies and shares my stuff.  I get a little notification every time he shares and likes something.

Lately, he's started to get personal with his comments.  He never leaves them on my page.  He posts them when he shares my stuff.

The last comment was that he hates the kind of person that I am.

Why on earth would someone watch my page, share my stuff, then put me down?

This is getting to be a tad bit weird, isn't it? 
Oh, my goodness!!!

I have an anti-fan!

*****

If Steve's blocking behavior has taught me anything, it is that Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ blocking is a joke when you have as many friends, followers, and circles as I do.

I have 500+ people on Facebook, LinkedIn and Google+.

I have 16,000 followers on Twitter.
I have a few thousand on YouTube.
I try not to keep track.  I guess my point is that I have far too many people who use my stuff to hide from the public.

It wouldn't be anything for someone to pose as a customer and friend me.  I wouldn't notice.

So.....

I don't know. 

There is no such thing as blocking. 

People always find a way to see your stuff.  Sometimes they view you through a friend's page.  Sometimes they make fake profiles and friend you.

Nothing is secret on the web.

*****

I am nearly to the point of hiring someone to do my social media or giving up on it entirely.

I need to focus on other things. 

People are weird.

They just are. 

I guess that Shannon has taught me one thing.  I don't mind Facebook stalking and crazy antics in social media.  I just hate it when people stalk me at work, on dates, and try to break into my house.

Love ya,

S.


Edit:

I did some sleuthing.  It turns out that this guy is actually an actor who has his own IMDB page (or whatever those are called).  He was stalked, so he's trying to help other stalking victims out and keep them from feeling isolated.

Okay....I started to share some of his posts.  Maybe he needs some exposure.

He's got a pretty cool Bronx accent.  I'm going to friend him on the voice actor website just in case I have a need for a male voice with an American flair for my recording projects.

There you go. 

He's not crazy.  He's trying to be helpful. 

Love ya,

S. 







Understanding My Fear of Marriage

Today I am thankful psychology research: I understand why all my failed relationships died.

My marriages died because the men were not there for me.

The guy I was with just a few months was not there for me when I lay in the hospital with a 50% chance of dying after he beat me with a hammer.

He thought I was faking.

The other man was never there when his family was stalking me.

He also chose to leave me alone when I was in labor; after he wanted me induced to schedule the delivery around his schedule and forbidding the doctors from giving me pain relief.
I felt betrayed by each of them.
In the end, I just wanted them gone.  

Wow....this is enlightening.

*****

Steve and I typically break up when I am unavailable to him.  Typically it is because my phone was left somewhere for days at a time or I need a break from the drama.
You know, I think he's always been there for me.

When I ran for office, Steve was there for me.

He'd be in my public speaking groups. 

He'd be at my lunch meetings.

He'd check in on me. 

After my campaign, when the stalking was at it's worst, Steve was always there for me. 

He'd offer to get me out of the house.

He'd write to me every night to make sure I was okay.

He was there. 

For over three years, Steve has been there when no one else was.

He would be the first email I'd see in the morning.

He'd be the last email I'd see before heading off to bed.

For three years, he's been the only person supporting me and cheering me on.

Maybe I shouldn't be afraid anymore.

Three years is a long time.

Maybe he's frustrated that I have not been there for him.  I don't think I really ever initiated the contact.
He always did.
I guess it is my turn.

*****

Love is about being available. 

Oh...I'll let a shrink explain it for you in the video below.  I can't get the formatting just right, so I including the link to the page.

The video is eye opening.  It discusses why availability is the primary factor in the success of relationships.

My old high school sweetheart and former roommate were there more than my ex-husbands.  To this day, I'd do just about anything for Thomas and Sampson.  The first one who needs a kidney, can have it (unless my love or any of the six kids we have between us needs it).
Mike....oh, I'd make him ask his family first. 
*****

Maybe love and marriage is not so hard after all.
It comes down to just being reliable and being there.  

So if I find someone who I enjoy hanging out with for a few years, whose sexual energy only gets stronger the longer we hang out, who gives me happy wrinkles, who puts up with my new age baloney and won't piss off the fairies, djinn or Pagan deities....well, maybe I should commit to him.
Steve makes everything seem easy.  Public speaking is easy.  Writing books is easy.  Doing the impossible is easy.
It is a far cry from someone who makes everything difficult.
Perhaps this is a sign and a signal. 
Perhaps I have found where I truly need to be.   

*****

Sorry this is short. 

I'm exhausted and my brain isn't making a lot of sense. A-ha moments make me emotional.  Resting is just one of those things that I do when I'm ultra emotional.  I start crying.  Then I get tired.  Then I need to go to bed and process everything.

I'm posting this now just in case it can help someone else.

Love ya,

S.

http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-14364/how-to-make-love-last-in-the-age-of-instant-gratification-dr-sue-johnson.html

Wounded but Bleeding by Myself

Today I am thankful that I can be alone in an attempt to heal myself.

I was very happy today. 

I went to a seminar.


Someone told me about my dream job.

I was scheming ways to teach.  I made a list of all the new software I wanted to learn so I could give awesome presentations.


I was excited.


I was happy. 

I came home. 


My ex-husband gave me $1,100 from the account he was supposed to sign over to me.

I borrowed that amount from someone to repair my car.  He wanted me to pay it back. 

He thinks that if I give this money to the person I borrowed it from, I will cut off the relationship.

I have the means to pay it back handled.

Well....it turns out my ex-husband raided that account yet again.  He wouldn't tell me how much he took out.  He won't give me the receipt.

I told him to estimate how much money he took out since our divorce and give me a plan to pay it back. 

It turns out that he admits to have taken $14,000 out of it for himself.  I didn't think it was so much.  This was after he deducted $2,600 that he gave to me ($1,100 today and $1,500 for the car in January).

The numbers don't mesh.  I need to see the statements.

He typed out a letter saying he will pay it back $167.00 at a time over a period of six years.

In the letter he expects me to never see Steve again. 

I went upstairs to cry. 

Steve called.  I am having trouble trusting him.  I don't know if he hung up on me when I declined to go out with him tomorrow or if my phone died. 

I don't know what to do.  I need time to think about everything.  The energy surrounding me is confusing.  I need time to have clarity. 

I need time. 
I have an appointment with a lawyer tomorrow.  It was to simply type up the documents.  I'm probably going to reschedule because I have to wait until I have actual numbers before I file anything. 

I'm in pain. 

I went from happy, to upset, to pained in the course of three hours.

I want to hide. 

I want to move to another state.

That is really the only way to stop the stalking. 

I need to move far away. 

I don't want to. 

This is my home. 

I've never left fthis state or more than a week.

I want to be alone until I sort through my feelings.

The problem is that I do not trust myself. 

I do not trust my ability to judge men. 

I thought Mike was honorable and decent.

How did I misjudge this?

I do not want to end up in another relationship like this.

I feel the need to be alone right now. 

I wish people would understand.

I need to cry alone. 

Perhaps the problem is my diet.


Do you know what I've been eating? 

Sour gummy worms. 


Yes, that's all I've eaten over the course of the past two days.

That's a lie. 

I had a package of jalapeño flavored corn nuts yesterday, too. 

I don't want to eat the food in this house.  I didn't buy any of it.  It's his. 

I think my diet makes me cranky. 

That's okay.  I have vitamins. 

I see a shrink tomorrow. 


I think I'm clinically depressed. 

I'm having dreams of my sister-in-law shooting me.

The dreams scare me.

I think it is time to talk to someone about it. 

On the bright side, I have access to $1,100 for food and gas money. 

Hooray.....maybe. 

Now, remember....I am a redhead.  I have a reputation for being a badass. I've taken on powerful people.  I've won. 

I just have never been able to smack down anyone I've slept with.

There has to be an answer that makes everyone happy.

I've got to find that.
Love ya,

S.

Authorship

Today I am thankful for the opportunity to write a book.

 

I was contacted by someone asking me to consider writing a book.  He would edit it.  He claimed it would help me advertise and build my brand.

I don't know what I'd write about.  He told me to look at my life experience and training.

Hmmmmm......I don't know what I would write about. 

 

Erotic Hypnosis?

 

Overcoming the fallout from Domestic Violence?

 

Overcoming the anxiety created by a stalker (or would that be domestic violence, too)?

 

Sigh.....those are things in my life that I screwed up royally.  I've made a ton of mistakes that I'm learning how to overcome.

Do not hypnotise yourself to cum upon seeing the color lime green or you'll inadvertently sit with a hot old flame (who looks pretty darn good in a kilt) while sipping coffee in a floral art gallary.

He lives in San Francisco.  I'm not what he wants.  Everyone is hotter in California.  I said that to myself a lot.  That's how I kept myself cool. Oh, and the several iced coffees he bought me helped, too.

That's probably why he came back three times.  Thank goodness I have no clue what I looked like!  I would have embarassed myself.

He took a picture but wouldn't let me see it. 

I wonder....could it be on the web somewhere? 

No.....he wouldn't.....would he?

I had a hypnotist friend fix me....sigh.  Thank goodness, I can look at a box of crayons again!

 

The domestic violence and stalking pieces I am still working on.  I'll probably be an expert by the time I'm done.

 

I set up an appointment with a shrink to talk about why I let men do things to me that make me uncomfortable.

I am realizing that control is subtle.

 

There is one thing I want to point out for someone that I am pretty sure reads this thing.

• If a man threatens to call the authorities every time he is offended, he is an abuser.  
• If someone threatens to get a restraining order to get you to talk to him, it is an attempt at control.   
• If someone threatens to contact a web host to remove a picture he finds offensive, it is an attempt at controlling speech.   

I am unsure I can speak to this person again because I am becoming afraid of him.  It is subtle now.  It won't always be that way. 

What would happen if it did become violent?  I once dated a guy who hit me in the head with a hammer and tried to have me arrested!!!  He almost succeeded but I fainted.  My injuries were hidden until I hit the emergency room.  I nearly died.

I will never, ever allow myself to be in such a situation.

I see it forming before me.

I saw a study today that concluded that people who were more educated or made more money than their mates tended to be victimized by abuse in their relationships.  They posit that it is an attempt to even out the power in the relationship.  This was true of both men and women.

I started getting stalked heavily when I made $150.00 an hour.  I'm wondering about this.

The harassment has always been there.  I have always had more education than my ex-husband or any member of his immediate family.

Do I need to date people who make gobs of money, too?  Maybe not.  I haven't made much money since the stalking began.  I don't have the heart to take clients and risk them being exposed to my stalker(s).

That said, love is not enough. 

 

I need my autonomy.

 

There is help for insecurity.  Insecurity is the root of control.

I can't tolerate the games.  They hurt me.

If this is love, I'd rather be alone.

 

Love ya,

 

S.

 

The Final Straw

Today I am thankful for the final straw.

It was Facebook. 

I accepted Steve's friend request the other day.

Even after not having the argument from Saturday resolved, I made the mistake of accepting his friend request.

That was a big mistake. 


I logged in this evening.


Right in front of my eyes is an advertisement.


Steve [his last name] likes [brand] dating service.


Okay....I unfollowed him.  I don't want to see that stuff.


That wasn't the last straw. 


I wrote to him to tell him that friending him was a mistake and asking permission to defriend him.


He starts to play the game where he claims that his phone won't let him read my messages.


I wrote that I would just block him and be done with it.


He saw that and got defensive.


So....I'm tired.


Why invest time and energy into a relationship with someone who plays games, censors your speech and is hell bent on replacing you anyway?


It gets old. 


Love,


S.

Lonely Men Kick Tires (with Edits)

Today I am thankful for taking time to decide what I want.

I had a horrible morning on Saturday. 

I am NOT sure I want to talk about it. 

It was about someone wanting to have an argument then misreading what I said, giving me the silent treatment, then complaining that he doesn't like certain words said in his house.

This, of course, makes me NOT want to ever visit his house.

I wound up leaving without resolving the issue. 

To tell the truth, I am NOT sure why I feel like I need to run off from this guy. 

I think it is that we are incompatible. 

He doesn't believe in incompatibility.


Perhaps incompatibility is a synonym for uncomfortable.  I am uncomfortable.  Since, Steve does not buy into incompatibility, I have to define it.  I have to define exactly what makes me uncomfortable.


I spend a lot of time trying to define the problems.

I think I spend a lot of time not saying what I want to say for fear of getting made fun of in public, or called names, or sent abusive text messages because he had a little too much to drink.

I censor my language.  Then he gets frustrated that I do not discuss my needs.  Why?  It'll lead to a fight.  I'll meet my own needs on my own.

The problem is that he'll act out.  My friends see this and tell me to run away.

Worse, he'll come back later and accuse me of being a drama queen.  He'll say he discussed our issues at work. He refers to it as drama (my drama).  Worse, his boss is complaining that I am the wrong religion.  Really?  How does his boss know that? 


My friends say Steve is crazy.

My eldest daughter told me that she had to laugh at some of our Facebook comments.  It was obvious to her that he was uneducated.  She has a degree in political science and works as a paralegal.

That made me feel sad.  I didn't know she could see the comments I made on his page.

I don't know. 

I feel like I am little more than a booty call.  Two weekends in a row, I was whisked away without warning when his child called.  That's okay.  I understand.  My kids are important.  I refuse to answer the phone when they visit me.

I would like to know that he's kicking me out at a certain time so that I can make plans for my day.  To expect me to stay until she calls...well..it's a pain in the arse.   For someone to  tell me that he wants me to stay and do something with him and then change his mind at a moments notice, well....it makes it less likely I'll keep my days open for him.

That Saturday was worse because of the arguing.  I don't like getting sucked into an argument, attacked and made to feel like I need to leave before resolving it.

I feel disrespected.

I never know what is going on. 

I guess I need my weekends back.

I don't have time for games. 

*****

To make matters worse, my ex-husband saw me walking home on Saturday.  I left Steve's house abruptly.  My car was in the shop, so I had to take public transportation.

Steve arranged to have his mother give me a ride to the bus stop several miles from his home.  He texted me with an itinerary.  Still....I was hurt.

My ex-husband gave me a ride home when he saw me walking.  He noticed that I was trying not to cry. 

Then he tried to hug me.

*****

As harsh as it is, I just can't make any relationship work right now.  I have to deal with an ex whose messing with my head.

I can only deal with one game player at a time.

The one thing that I want to say is that if you are a guy and you want a steady f*ck buddy, do NOT attack her to see how she will react.

She will walk off. 

I am ready to do just that.

I just have to decide how much of an explanation I owe Steve. 

I love him.

I just can't take his antics.

I don't see how one can fix something that breaks down every few weeks. 

I am trying to define the problem.  It could simply be that he is a top down thinker.  I am a bottom up thinker. 

He also focuses on one aspect of a problem at a time.  This makes his arguments incredibly thin.  I like to look at the bigger picture.  I try to educate him so he can improve his arguments.  It offends him.  This gets old.  

He claims that I bring too many aspects into the argument.  It makes me doubt my intelligence.  I have to remember that I can talk to powerful people and get them to do what I want. 

The fact that I cannot talk to this person should not reflect upon my intelligence at all.

I don't know what to do. 

*****

I am not sure if he is manipulative or really doesn't know what he's talking about.

I feel bad that my comments give other people the impression that he is stupid.

He's not. 

 

I just don't think he reads about history or research methods as much as I do.

When it comes to programming, I have no clue what I'm doing.  I just copy and paste code. 

Look at the formatting on this blog!!!  That proves that I have no clue what I'm doing.

We all have our strengths.  I have mine.  Steve has his. 

One of my strengths is my ability to keep busy. I don't have time for pointless arguments.  I made the mistake of calling the arguments stupid.  He thinks I called him stupid. 

I pointed out the flaws in the thinking of people he was complaining about.  I called those arguments bullshit.  He doesn't like my use of colorful language in his house.

 

Well....I guess since I can't be a lady, I shouldn't return. 

 

It would be rude.  

 

Bullshit is bullshit. 

There are times when a lady has to call a spade a spade.

 

I'll meditate on it.  A smart man will give me a couple of days to figure it out.  Maybe I'll change my mind if I don't see him for ten days. 

I doubt it.  I'm pretty pissed off.

A dumb man will send me dirty text messages when I have vowed never to sleep in his bed because I can't watch my language in his house. 

I am not sure that I want to return to his house.

 

*****

 

In sum....

 

Don't pick fights!!!

If you have to pick fights, don't let her go away angry.  The more nights she loses sleep over it, the less likely it will be that you will ever see her again.

Fighting kills enchantment.

Before he said those things to me, I would have done anything for him.

Now, he'll be lucky if I pat him on the back.

Now, I worry that I'll spend the rest of my life arguing about absurdities.  It is a distraction. I don't have time for that.  I'm too busy. 

If I am going to fight, I'm going to argue with politicians and get a damn good tax break out of it. 

 

I only argue for a purpose.

 

I don't have time to argue about things that don't matter.

I guess the ease of which he tried to erase me from his life last time I didn't call him back quick enough really bothers me. 

He'll do it again.

Why should I invest more time into that relationship?


*****
I'm tired.

I need to focus on getting back on my feet.  I tire of the stupid arguments.  They are draining. 

When I say that I am not ready to be in a relationship, the man who wants one with me should pay attention.  He should not push.  He shouldn't expect me to be available to him every weekend.  It would seem that I am more flexible than he is.  There is an expectation for me to be available to him on a whim.

It could also be that he sees what I put up with from my ex-husband and is testing my limits.  My ex-husband gets away with acting like a major jerk because I am afraid of his family.  I have kids with him.  If I do NOT do what he wants, I fear for my children.

Steve has nothing to hold over my head.

Mike does. 

I can find many different things to do on Friday nights and Saturday mornings. I don't need to argue or play games.

I could work.  I could volunteer.  I could make money. 

It's exhausting to fight.

It's exhilarating to work.

So....maybe...for my sanity....I have to avoid men until I get my ex-husband out of the house.

I can only deal with one game player at a time.

I'm off to cry myself to sleep yet again.

Love ya,

S. 


P.S.  Do you want to know what the argument was?


It shouldn't have been an argument.


I was trying to debunk the following statement:


The Romans conquered the Celtic people in the name of Jesus Christ because they are economically and morally superior.
 

The Romans conquered the Celtic people around 61AD.

Constantine I brought Christianity into the Roman Empire with the Edict of Milan around 313AD.

I even tried to tell him to watch the movie Boudica but he didn't understand how that fit into the equation.  Boudica would provide some historical context for the Roman invasion of what would later become Ireland.

UGH!! 

Then he added a statement:

Christianity equals slavery.

Then.....then....he does the unthinkable. He mentioned that Stalin himself said that religion was used to control the masses. Yeah....that's why so many Christians were murdered and Communism pushed athiesm on its people.  Religious people are harder for politicians to brainwash because their God(s) will always come before their country.

In the end, I mentioned that the statements and the arguments for them were stupid and bullshit.

He thought I called him "shit" and "stupid."

Then he thought my arguments proved that I liked slavery. 

Oh, and somewhere in there I became Christian.

I think this he was trying to come up with an argument for Anarchism. 

Damn.....I was trying to improve his arguments.

I give up. 

I don't know how I can communicate with an insecure man.

Many things I say are twisted into a slam.  If I compliment someone, it is a slam against Steve.  If I try to teach him history, it is a slam against Steve. 

I truly do not know what I can say anymore.

I don't know how to communicate with one who obviously never really liked religious history. 

I don't know how to sit down and shut up. 

Maybe he just wanted a hook-up and made up the fight to run me off. 

I don't know. 

I have made up my mind to never put myself in that situation again.  I told him that shortly before I walked out of his apartment.  He followed me and made sure that I had a ride to the bus station. 

I will NEVER go to a man's home without a way to get home on my own. 

I do have to wonder what is wrong with me to find myself dealing with men in these types of situations. 

I'm off to ponder this now. 

Maybe I allow too much disrespect and they think they can use me. 

I don't know.

Irritated

Today I am thankful for websites.

Today I was informed that my former sister-in-law was stalking me to run me out of the house and away from my children. 

I don't know what to think. 

I am visualizing this chick getting probed in the local jail.

If she comes near me again, that is exactly what is going to happen.

Oh..and yeah...there are several websites and forums devoted to telling mother-in-laws how to do stalk their sons wives.  They talk about wanting to get their sons divorced and living with them. 

I have heard this before. 

In 1999, I was told that the goal was to run me off so that my kids and then-husband would live with my  mother in law.  


Interesting.....

Maybe they are just losers. 

I am having a hard time believing that other people are going through this.

Is the internet a round up venue for crazy meddling old ladies to discuss and justify engaging in felonious acts?

*****

There are also numerous cop websites that talk about stalking as an escalating crime interview.  They give tips on how to discourage criminals before they can begin. 

I'm not sure if I have synthesized enough of the information to blog about it.  When I can write about it more succinctly, I'll share.

Despite what Michael says, I am still in danger so long as he lives here.

I may need to retain a lawyer to solve this problem. 

*****

There is a little bit of good news.  I hired a new mechanic.  He has basically replaced the entire suspension on my used car.  He did NOT find a GPS box.  I've had the car for six months.

I am realizing that this could be why my ex-husband never let me get my old mini-van repaired.  He insisted on having the work done himself. 

A mechanic would have found that GPS box before I did.

*****

The other day, one of my daughters heard a door open, heard footsteps, and then later saw a light turn on in the laundry room. 

She thought I did it. 

She was the only one home. 

The eldest, who is 24 now, had to come over to tell me that this had happened to her when she was home alone. 

On that day, Michael gave me a ride to the mechanic.  There were no cars in the garage.

Perhaps there is another GPS box on the mini-van.

I think Shannon uses the GPS box and the telephone to guage when we are home.  If the vehicles register as being miles away, she breaks in.  The day I caught her trying to get into the house, the garage was empty.

The cops say that she is the private name caller.  Someone will call the house and hang up when I pick up the phone.  The day Shannon tried to break into the house, I was on the other line and didn't answer when the caller ID showed a second caller as Private Number.

Yes, I was able to secure phone service in my name now.  The number will be private.  The older phone numbers are being ported to an online VOIP provider that will log every call for the police department.

I hope this puts an end to the nonsense. 

I don't know how much of this is hysteria, how much of this is my sister-in-law, or if this could be Michael trying to freak the hell out of me.

It will be nice getting answers.


******

I am going to tear apart my ceiling fan.  It beeps every few hours.  The fan hasn't worked for a few years but perhaps I need to check for some suspicious object.

I've lived here thirteen years and have never heard any of the other ceiling fans beep before.

*****

I'm trying to deal with the money issue.  It is hard to imagine this woman and her family harassing me the same time my ex-husband is looting what was supposed to be given to me in the divorce.

The games are so stupid that it hurts my brain trying to figure them out.

My ex-husband and his family are not the only people in my life playing games.  Their games are the most dangerous though. 

The other games are just annoying. 

I'm looking into adopting a noisy dog. 

I'm casting a banishing spell. 

It's a super busy day today. 

Love ya,

S.

Deep Breaths

Today I am thankful for deep breaths.

I found out why my ex won't give me copies of our tax returns!!! 

WE owe $800.00.  I don't know why we owe so much.  We usually owe $23.00.  Maybe someone was messing around with his withholdings so that he could hide money during the divorce.


No worries, right? 

I'll just ask him to sign over that account that was due to me on November 1, 2013.  We can pay the bill out of that and he can pay me back his half later. 

You know, the one that has $28,000 in it?


Oh, that's right.  He took $5,000 without telling me in late November (after he was supposed to sign it over to me). 


Guess what?


Today it has $19,500 in it. 


I see a lawyer on Friday.


Oh, and I asked my ex about these things.  He denies owing the IRS money.  He denies touching that account.  The IRS screwed up.  The bank is taking out fees.  Yada...yada...yada. 


This is NPD. 


It's never his fault.  He never makes mistakes.  Everyone else does.


I will NOT miss the lying.   


If he's lying about these things.  He's lying about the stalking, too.


You know what I find HOT in a man.  Honesty is hot.  Integrity is hot. 

Lying stalking asshats are NOT!


Love ya,


S. 

The Out of Control Djinn Master (with edits)

Today I am thankful that there are politicians who know who I am, what I do, and actually fear me.

I thought of the perfect wish for a witch.


Perhaps it is more of a perfect curse.


I'll spare you my rant. 


I got the idea after reading the fifth article about local governments that are banning cigarette alternatives.  They are too stupid to understand that banning e-cigarettes will condemn hundreds and thousands of people to death from the tar in traditional cigarettes.


These bans are a boon for tobacco companies.
They are a boon for the medical community because it ensures a steady stream of cancer patients.
They are a boon for the governments that tax traditional cigarettes.


It's not about the electronic devices. 


To tell the truth, politicians I know pass a lot of laws that condemn innocents to death.


They pass gun laws which make it hard for people with stalkers (like me) to get a carry permit.


They pass laws that force battered women to allow stalking exes into their homes for visitation. 


They support laws that allow the police departments to NOT enforce restraining orders.


They do all sorts of stupid shit that makes it harder and harder for people to feed, house, and clothe their families.


They make it illegal to feed the homeless.


I could go on and on. 


I won't.


*****


I just made my first wish.  I am reputed to own 465 djinn objects.  Each one is good for three wishes.  I'm not sure which ones are real and which ones are not.  I chose to wish upon the necklace that shocks the holy hell out of anyone who touches it.


There is something there. 


This is male. He is a Ghul.  

So....this is my wish:

I WISH THAT ANY POLITICAN SUFFER ONE NIGHT OF LOST SLEEP FOR EACH INDIVIDUAL WHO DIES, BECOMES SICK, OR IS INJURED DIRECTLY OR INDIRECTLY DUE TO A POLICY HE OR SHE VOTED TO SUPPORT.  

If my frenemies don't start looking haggard in the near future from a lack of sleep, I'll do a traditional curse. 


I am livid.


Listen to reason -or- pay the price. 


I have extended this wish to include politicians who command the military to strike communities and kill civilians (including children) in Muslim countries.  Most of the believer djinn are Muslim.  I bet they're a little bit pissed off at our stupid leadership.

The wish is good for 1000 years.   It's ironclad.  It cannot be undone. 

The good citizens of our communities shouldn't be the only ones losing sleep.

The lunatics that run the asylum should be the ones to suffer.

Sweet dreams,


Love,

Shadow Siegfred


P.S. You had better ask yourself, am I fucking with you or am I serious?


Well.....if your favorite politician has bags under his or her eyes....you have your answer.

P.S.S.  Well....the Ghul seems to be nicer than I am.  In my meditation, he suggested that one simply curse the oath of office so that any one who utters those words have the curse of hyper-sensitive empathy. 

Empathy is not a curse, per se.  It only becomes a curse when one dreams first hand of the torturous deaths and pain their behavior causes others to bear.   It will force them to walk in the shoes of their victims.


Wow...this sounds like it would make an excellent movie.  We could have sociopaths winning office and dying of heart attacks after dreaming that they are an unfortunate soul who died because they wanted to ban....say....abortions for women bleeding due to a tubal pregnancy. 


Maybe there is a script in their somewhere.

Any takers? 

If so, there is a book out there called The Vengeful Djinn.  I don't agree with the author but that person will scare the demonic hell out of you.  It would be a good read for the author of a horror film script.

Maybe it could be a good project for me, too. 

EDIT THIRTEEN DAYS LATER:

Well, this is weird.

I am dreaming about children living in the Gaza strip.  I see them playing.  I see them laughing.  I see them happy and healthy.

Then, I hear a blast.

I see them bleeding.  I see their legs torn off.  They are treated like animals.  These little, sweet, innocent children are treated and whipped like animals.

Who am I supporting that supports what is going on in Israel?  I've got to cut off funding them. 

My subconscious must know or else it wouldn't be making me feel guilty. 

Perhaps I feel guilty for supporting my Congressman.  He is a nice man.  I hate his politics.  He ran against a friend of mine but he's always been a gentleman.  He has always gone out of his way to help me.

I wonder if he supports Israel? 

I'll check. 

See?  Being a witch is a dangerous business.  The wishes can backfire. 

This is why I don't like making them. 

Love ya,

S.

Hell Yes -or- Hell NO

Today I am thankful for my new mantras.

I'm in a hurry.  There is a lot going on but I don't have a lot of time to update everything.


I had a talk with Michael today.


Two things came from this.


First, he never gave me the money I was awarded in the divorce because he just hasn't gotten around to doing it.  He will.  There is probably $20,000 left of the $28,000. 


There was $32K, the day I filed for a divorce.  There was $28,000 the day he was supposed to sign it over to me. 

I told him that I may sue him for some of the money he took after he was supposed to give the account to me.  It's a little over $5,500.  Yes, there is a little discrepancy in the numbers and that is because I asked for $2,000 to buy a used car after I gave Michael my van.  What was left of that money was used to repair Mike's van.


Mike promises to get around to cutting me a check in the near future.  That will clear up a lot in my life and greatly expand my opportunities.

Sitting on the money hurts my ability to move on with my life.

*****

Michael and I spoke about someone messing with the things in my bedroom.  For years, I've found my art, my poetry, my diaries, and assorted personal mementos strewn about various parts of the house.
He swears up and down he didn't do it.

Now, this has gone on so long that the kids were babies when it started.  I'm going to bet the children have not played around with my smelly old paintings. 

This has always bothered me. 
He thinks that members of his family are going into my room, messing around with my art and diaries in order to dig up dirt.

Money has gone missing. 

Two djinn rings are missing (but without the names they are useless).  Even with the names, I would fear for any novice that has possession of them.  The rings are brass and copper.  They are not worth money.  I don't know why they'd want them.


The art thing has always bothered me. 

The missing objects coupled with the damage to the doors of this house has caused me to turn my thoughts as to motive.

Michael is continually claiming that he thinks his sister is breaking into my house. 


It may have led me to understand something. 


Michael is my ex-husband. 

He is possessive of MY money. 

He is possessive of my time. 


He takes my things. 


He doesn't want to move out of this house. 

Back in 1994, I let him stay the night with me when I found damage to my apartment door.  I had issues with broken locks and broken windows.  I literally slept with chairs propped under the door handle, so no one could get in without waking me up. 

I let him stay with me because I felt safer that way.

Perhaps....this whole Shannon breaking into the house story is a means to allow him to live here and stay with me. 


I wonder....

what would happen if I never showed fear? 

Would he leave?

*****


Now, I should probably document that the conversation got violent.  I wasn't hit.  Michael was hitting things and screaming.  This usually happened when I suggested putting together a safety plan.  If he wants to so much as speak to me, I need a safety plan.  Because I KNOW that he was communicating my whereabouts to his family, I need him to move away from me so he won't know anything about my personal life to tell them -or- we as a family need to move far away from his sister.


There is still no plan for him to move out.


He says moving out of Colorado is not an option.


I am wondering if maybe I need to sue him to get the money. 

I think he likes this situation.

*****

. I am a devious brat.

I told Michael that if I didn't feel safe, I'd just propose to Steve and let an Anarchist, gun rights dude live here. 

He didn't like that. 

Enter some more yelling.

Then he claimed to be a victim of his sister.  He claims his sisters behavior cost him the most important thing he had in the world....me.    


That made me angry. 

His behavior cost him the relationship....not Shannon's. 

*****

Yes, the "Steve M Word" incidents are another story all together. 

There has been no proposal.  Let me repeat....there has been NO proposal.





It's just the two words that make me cringe have been uttered a few times. 


Those words are "wife" and "marriage."


There was also a notation that if I married him, my initials would be STY not STD.


I'm not sure that any one of them would be better than the other: both styes and stds are incredibly irritating.

I don't know.....I don't know......


In woman's speak....I don't know means no.

*****

I have decided that if I cannot say "hell yes" to something, I am going to say "hell no."


The problem with that is that due to the stalking, I find myself saying NO to opportunities I truly want.  I fear having Shannon harass my coworkers.  I fear having more fake online profiles spamming people I know.  I fear seeing my ex-husband sit outside the office waiting for me.  I fear having my car taken.  I fear having my house broken into while I am at work and the kids are home with the sitter.


Marriage could solve these problems.  Steve would be an unknown quantity.  My stalkers have never ONCE approached me when I have been with him.  My sister-in-law watched us have tea.  I think Mike's uncle saw me groping Steve at a pizza joint.  No one said a word. 


I would be safe with Steve.


The issue is that I'd want the marriage to last a life time.


Right now....


right now....


I'm not ready. 





I need to clear a space in my head for marriage. I need to move past the past (or get the past to move) before moving into a future.  I need therapy.  I need to make sure that I can earn my own keep.  Enough about that.  That could be another post all together.  Steve has explained to me why men take care of women who they value spending time with.  It's sweet.  It's romantic. It's almost poetic.  It would be nice to share....someday.

I need to work for my own sanity.  I need people.  I need to be of service to more than a sex partner.  I need a job.  I know what I want to do now.  I'll talk about that later.



I'm working on it. 

I think it would be nice for him to know me before proposing.  I don't even know who I am anymore.  How in the world would he? 

*****

I'll write about the love stuff later.  I'm trying to work through the fear first. 

In a nutshell, I think the stalking is a means to scare me into allowing the situation to fester.  If I am afraid of living here alone then the odds increase that I will ask Michael to stay. 

Him wanting to stay here could be why he never split the money with me.  My lack of assets increases my dependence on him. 

It's starting to make sense now. 
Love ya,


S.

Open hearts and Sychronicity

Today I am thankful for my Shaman friends. 

One of them will admit to casting a spell to help me find true love. 

She did this twice. 


She did this in February of 2011 after hearing me complain about all my meetings with ex-boyfriends and stalkers.  I used to describe my life as an ex-fest. 


I met Steve within eight weeks.


She did it again in September of last year for a birthday present.  With that, my separation agreement was signed.  Within days, Steve started putting the moves on me. 


He wanted to tell the world that he was in love with me.  Sadly, we've been doing the breaking up and making up thing ever since.


I realize that it is because I want a damn job before I suck some poor man into my world.


I'm expensive!!!


Steve doesn't seem to care about money.   He's such a romantic.


You know, money helps.  I can earn my keep.  I have a need to earn my own living.


I asked my friend to cast a spell to help me get a job.  I spent $14.00 on candles and herbs. 

I hope it works.

*****

Steve asked me what it would take to repair our relationship and to rebuild the trust.  I used to think it would be compatibility.  Being an intellectual, he wants me to expound upon the concept of compatibility. 


Okay.....hmmmm......I want sex to be....hot. 


It would be hotter if I were thinner.  


It would be hotter if I could afford better undies.

It would be better if I could afford bigger boobs (he'd disagree).


It's not the sex, is it? 


I get it now. 


We can talk about anything.  We eat the same kind of food.  We like the same kind of things.  We get along pretty well except that I'm not sure I want to get married again. 

The last time I got married, it turned into a nightmare.  Maybe...if I can NOT allow the guy to take everything away from me....I could do it. 

Maybe....I'm going to have to go back to my shrink and talk about boundaries with men.


I KNOW what I want in a man that I haven't had until now.  I KNOW what I get from Steve that no other man can give me. 


It is SYCHRONICITY. 

It is the uncanny knack we have to think about the same things at the same time.  It is the uncanny phenomenon that we share the same emotional highs and lows.  We both get amorous at the same time.  We both get grouchy at the same time.  We both get playful at the same time.

We are in synch.  It is beautiful.

It is this bizarre scenario that keeps occurring where we excitedly run into each other's arm to share the lessons we have learned that week - and we say the exact same things!  We just see opposite sides of the lessons and spend hours upon hours talking about them.

That's what I need.  I need to be in synch with someone. 

That is compatibility in the extreme. 

That's it!! 

*****

My lesson this week was to open my heart because that is the basis of trust. 

I have learned that all my blocks come from my head.  When I shut that off, everything is amazing.  Things ladies don't write about are more beautiful.  I have better timing.  I find better opportunities.  I get more done. 

My heart also taught me something else.

When listening to a man, let him talk until he takes a huge breath.  He'll take small breaths but don't say a word.  Give him at least 30 seconds of silence before you start talking.   

It's powerful to do that.  I am realizing that when I do this the conversations are better.  Sometimes what he starts out saying to me isn't what he winds up saying.  He can start off a-holish but it does end on a better note because he's not as defensive and I actually get to hear enough to understand.

Even then....give his words 10% of the attention.  The real truth of what a man says is in his eyes.

I wish I had known this years ago.


Love ya,

S.

Ankle Deep In Crap

Today I am thankful for my carpet cleaning machine. 

Last Thursday, I overheard the toilet in my ex-husband's basement level apartment gurgling.  I bought some mine line cleaner and asked him to put it in his toilet when he went to bed.  I was heading off to Steve's house for the weekend, so I wouldn't be able to do it. 


He said he would. 


Main line cleaner prevents sewer back ups.


Well....he did not. 


And, now the house smells like a sewer.


Instead of attending an oil and gas networking event where they are giving activists FREE public speaking lessons, I am stuck here cleaning crap out of my ex-husband's living area.


With every movement, with every bucket of sewer water I collect, I realize that this is WHY I do not want to get married.


It has been nothing more than an unpaid job for me.  It is an unpaid job that keeps me from pursuing more lucrative opportunities.

There were no perks.  There was too little sex.  I was stalked and harassed by his family.  I would be yelled at when I went out in public.  I had little access to money or transportation.  I basically had to sneak around to get things done.

My life wasn't my own.  It was like working a never ending job with no pay.



I don't want marriage.


I don't want it right now unless I can truly trust my partner and he truly trusts me. 


I NEVER want to give up a potential speaking gig to clean up shit that I shouldn't have to be cleaning up.  All he had to do was one simple thing.  All he had to do was pour a gallon of acid in the toilet.  That's it!!

Now, I'm going to be busy over the next few days fixing up the house.

UGH!!!


I'm going back to scrubbing and getting the sewer smell out of my house. 

Love ya,


S. 


Full Disclosure:  Within ten minutes of posting this, my ex-husband came home and took over cleaning the carpet.  He won't deal with the sewer issue but at least he's trying.


My eyes burn.  I was cleaning using a caustic cleaner.  I am going to go out and wash my eyes.  If I would have missed and hit my face, maybe I'd look a little bit younger. 


Next Day Edit:  My eyes are okay.  I did burn my face, though.  I have burns on my chin and cheek. 

This little episode taught me something.  I do realize that I need to be rid of my roommate.  It's sounds mean but if I am going to live in this house, I need to be able to but mainline cleaner in the sewer once a month.  I shouldn't have to spend two days cleaning poo out of carpet.  It kills the job search.


Perhaps this was an omen. 

Happiness

Today I am thankful for understanding what makes me happy. 

I like being busy. 


So, that's what I am going to do.  I'm staying busy.

*****

I finally realized why my ex-husband is still here.  I've had a heart to heart with him.  He knows it is over.  He just wants to make sure that I am able to support the family without him.


I could do that if he'd honor the divorce agreement. 


I had to do some soul searching to find out why I haven't thrown him out yet.


I figured it out!!!


And, you know, that insight helps me understand why I cannot communicate with my boyfriend, too.

****

Men, like Michael and Steve, like to find the quickest and easiest route to success.  They like the road with the least obstacles.  The like to take the river worn path; the path of least resistance.


I am the opposite. 

I want to find the absolute best solution for everyone.  This causes me to open up to new solutions. 


The men in my life want to close down the issue.  I want to open it up, examine it, and find the best win-win situation.

Mike wants to give me the house and what is left of the $28K I was awarded in the divorce.


I want Michael to leave the house with enough money to get a decent place to live.  I want to earn enough so he can cut his child support payment and avoid alimony.  I want a new, livable agreement.  I want one with time lines and guidelines.  I want one that will be followed. I want everyone to anticipate his move.  I want the kids to look forward to it.  I want the change to be clean.  I want the change to be swift.


He senses that I am not ready for him to leave (because we don't have a workable exit strategy) and THAT IS why he's hanging around.


With Steve, I want him to be happy and excited.  I want him to rock the world with his ideas. 

Steve does break up with me every few weeks.  It's usually public.  he'll usuallly come back talking about another woman.  That's part of why I'm not sure I'm the one for him.  He's still in the market!!! 

Worse, everytime he breaks up with me, it is quite public.  Men come out of the woodwork.  It drives me nuts. UGH!!! 

It usually is my fault that we break up because I am not attentive enough.  Due to the name calling I endure when Steve is feeling ignored, I'm not sure I am the one for him.  Maybe I do not know how to be attentive enough.  I want him to be absolutely sure before he makes a mistake by taking me into his life - breaking up is painful.


I say that because I dated Michael for five years before I married him.  I wound up not knowing him.  I never want to be divorced again.  I'd rather see a friend happy with another woman than unhappily stuck in a domestic partnership with me.


Steve wants to seal the deal.  I want to open it up to make sure it is what he wants.

I don't know.  I am doing another ritual to Isis and Osiris to send Steve to his true love. 


If I want to fix this mess, I have to be less open to options.  This means......this means......that I have to change my thinking about everything!


UGH!!! 


Wanting to keep it open does not mean that I don't love someone.  A man I adored not too long ago just got engaged to the woman I thought he'd wind up with.  It was incredibly hard not to let this man kiss me.  Three years ago, he tempted me.  I knew better.  I told him to keep his options open and now he's with the woman of his dreams.


I feel different around Steve than I did with my newly engaged friend. 

I am realizing that he becomes mean when I'm not paying him attention.  It's more like he roars when he prefers to purr. 

He's like a cat.  He needs attention.

*****

I'm still feeling a little bit overwhelmed.  I decided to look for two part time jobs in addition to my business.  I think getting out in the real world and learning new skills will help me to feel happy.

The namecalling hurts.  Steve can build me up but when he tears me down, it is soul destroying.  When he makes fun of me in public (by posting BDSM articles or complaining about me) men start hitting on me.  I wish he'd grow up.  This is hurting me tooo much. 

One of my friends wants to spread whipped cream on my body because (a) I no longer have a public boyfriend and (b) kinky is healthy acccording to the last guy I dated so I must really enjoy that.

I got drunk so I have an excuse to avoid this man. 

This is the real reason that I do not answer my phone. 

I have too many horny old friends. 

Thank God I'm fat.  I betcha it turns a few of them away. 


Love ya,


S.

Stupid is Bending to Authority

Today I am thankful for my new found resolution to only date people with graduate degrees; maybe I ought to hang out with people who have the same level of academic achievement.

I had a very nice day with Steve yesterday. 


It was nice.
This morning I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him.
Then....today, I thought I'd see if I could compliment him on his Facebook page and he has to post a poorly written study with the conclusion that nice and conscientious people will kill other people because government officials tell them to.  Nice people are deadly.  They will kill you because they do not want to disappoint the government. 

He used this to push Anarchism.  Nice people, he claimed, are statists. 


Oh...my...goodness.....


Okay....that tears it. 
Enough is enough.
I forgot how stupid his Anarchist rants are.  I forgot his stupid assertions that All Libertarians believe this...misunderstand that...are that way....do these things....etc.
He's so smart that no one ever told him that if you must qualify a statement with the words "all, always, and every", you have a 99.99% probability of being wrong.


Really? 


The study he posted had a mere 66 participants.  It was quantitative.  I was taught that you needed a minimum of 100 participants to give the study weight.  I was told a few hundred was optimal.


They didn't even give each one a full Big 5 test.  Mini-tests?  Really?  How do you measure anything?


They conclude that nice people will kill you for the government?  I don't see how they did that using a valid methodology.
Did the researcher(s) ever read Milgram's Obedience to Authority?
They probably ought to have looked at personal history more than personality measures.


No....I seriously do not think niceness and conscientiousness has a darned thing to do with it.  Cowards could do it.  Immoral and/or immature people could do it. 

I know plenty of nice and conscientious people who take on the government.  Have you seen the crap government officials put activists through?  They have rules and regulations pertaining to public action groups (so you had best be conscientious or risk going to jail).  They will libel you in the press, so you had best be so nice that NO ONE in the community will believe the garbage they say about you.

The study if effin' bunk.  It's a falsehood.  It's a fraud.  It is not indicative of reality.  Of course, the hard truth is that most psychological studies will not be able to replicate the phenomena of the real world.


Can I spend the rest of my life with someone who likes to argue about things he doesn't understand?  Do I have the patience for that?  I don't know.  I think I need to work on myself before embarking on a journey like that. 

*****

This isn't the first time Steve has bitched about people who are too nice.  He's said that about me before.  He has complained that I'm too nice.  He complains that I don't ask for what I want.

Oh, well.....perhaps.....if I want something, I'll just take it. 


Why post that garbage online for your girlfriend to see?  Why argue about it???  Is he a masochist?  Does he do this shit to try to make me mean???  Does he want me to become authoritarian?  Does he want me to pretend to kill him with electric shocks???
I feel publicly criticized.

I am seething. 


I can't stand this. 
I'm done, unless I get an apology. 





I can't take it. 


I can't take being judged by people quoting stupid psychology students who can't get the methodology straight. 

I'm a little shocked.  This is a little too funny (hurtful but funny).


First, don't try to make a nice girl mean. Guys you want a nice girl who is playful in the sack, right?  You want a mixture of dirty and sweet.  Oh, I know you do.  You don't want a snarling witch wrapped inside a cloak of rabid bitch.   If she's nice, why try to change her?


Secondly, Anarchists don't believe in authority.  Quoting psychology students in a bid to control someone else is using an authority to bully someone into compliance.  It is about the most un-anarchistic thing a person can do. 




For some reason, I keep thinking about Forrest Gump.


I need a jar, so I can put $1 in it every time I say "stupid is as stupid does."











You know, I've got to take stock of my personal energy.  What am I doing to attract political ideologues to me?  Why do they have to be uneducated and opinionated?

Maybe.....maybe....I'm dumbing myself down. 


Maybe....maybe...if people say I'm too nice, I need to kick a little more butt. 


I typically only fight when I have a cause.  Perhaps I need to find one and stay away from men.


If I see Steve again, maybe I should smack him on the head with my 300+ page master's thesis.  The university had it hardbound for me.

My three published articles were published in softcover journals.  I don't think they'd knock much sense into anyone.    
Oh, and Steve is obviously not a stalker.  If so, he would have found my books and research by now.  He doesn't think I know what I'm talking about....so...he's not keeping tabs on me.  That's nice to know.  I hope he doesn't piss me off to the point of sending him links to my work on Google Scholar.

Maybe....I need to be alone until I find someone who I can actually....you know....talk to without fear of getting blasted for being smart. 





Love ya,


S. 





P.S.  Yes, I am aware my grammar and punctuation are horrid.   Let's just say that I love my editors!!!  They are rock stars.

Back to Life

Today I am thankful for the realization that my divorce is actually over:

Now I can get back to life.

I don't know where to start.

I actually miss having a public relationship with Steve.  Men are coming out of the woodwork again.
Sunday, it was a man I went to high school with.  I never knew him.  His name is Rick and he's concerned about the stalking I'm enduring.  I'll ignore him until our reunion in two weeks.  

Today, it was a guy named Mike.  He sent me a private message. 

"I saw you in the paper and thought you would be a cool person to know.  Let's hook up." 

I discreetly signed out.  UGH!!!  

This guy is Christian.

Why do Pagan women attract so many Christian men?

Is it a numbers game?  Is it because the majority of men here are Christian?

Or is it because they want to save us?

I think my religion is why Steve keeps breaking up with me.

He works for a Christian company.

His boss tells him that I'm the wrong religion for him.

Why?

I am a Syncretic Pagan.

That means that I worship Jesus. 

I know....I know....they want to save his soul. 

So do I.    

*****

Speaking of saving.....

I have to speak my peace about spells. 

If you feel the need to do it, think about it. 

Typically they do more harm than good.  

Last Thursday I drove out to Steve's place to pick up my chairs and saw him milling about.  I hid until he walked off.  It was 8:30 p.m. He was wearing a black t-shirt, blue jeans and brown suede shoes.


He threatened to get a restraining order, so I didn't want him to see me.

I'm pretty sure he did. 

Yesterday, we spoke. 

He said that Thursday at 8:30 p.m., he cast a spell to get me to contact him.  I literally watched him do that.   

I described what I saw and what he was wearing.

He is excited that his spell worked.

His spell didn't work.  My desire to get my chairs back and put an end to the madness worked.

He wrote to me to tell me that he didn't want to hear from me again or else he'd file for a restraining order. 

How dare someone say such things to me when they don't mean it?

UGH!!!!

Always try to solve problems with mundane means first!!!  Don't harass other entities or the universe to get your way. 

The best way to make sure that you don't lose your love is to not kick her out of your life and threaten to get a restraining order if she contacts you.  He wanted me to contact him?

I do not understand. 

He threatened me.  If he hadn't done that, he wouldn't have needed to resort to a spell.  Rather than ask elementals to help you solve a problem of your own creation, sometimes the best thing to do is not act like a controlling a-hole. 

*****

Spells!!!

 

They change everything. 

 

I once cast a spell to get rid of the mayor.  I was asked to take a crack at his seat.

 

I don't like casting spells.

 

I have had fun, though.  Someone sent me an alleged djinn object.  I was holding it while joking with hanging out with some old friends rockin' out to 80's music.  I jokingly said that I wished I could meet the guitar player I had a crush on as a child.

 

He contracted me directly on Twitter within five minutes.

 

We tweeted back and forth about Obama's narcissism. 

 

The aftermath was not pretty.  One of the women became jealous.  She actually named her kids after him. 

She could have tweeted, too!! 

 

Still......she still doesn't talk to me. 

 

I got in trouble. 

 

Spells!!!

 

Wishes!!! 

 

Don't do it. 

Don't....don't....don't...

 

If Steve doesn't believe me, I'll make a wish to be famous.

Just watch...... 

 

Either I'll be accused of a crime that I didn't commit or I'll magickly improve my singing and join an established rock band. 

 

Either way....well....he'd have to date the other chick he keeps writing about on Facebook because he'll never see me again unless he wants to have his new lady love bake me a cake with a file in it. 

 

 

*****

Spells are like hair dye.

 

When I was seventeen, my warm brown hair turned red.

It has NEVER been the same since. 

 

It was the most ugly thing I've ever seen. 

 

Every week, I tried to darken it. 

 

The red never left. 

 

The dye would leach out after a few days and my hair would be bright red again. 

 

It made me mad.

 

One day, I'm at the mall and this handsome young man was staring at me.  I'm picking through hair dye, trying to find the color that I remember having as a little girl. 

 

He stared. 

 

Oh.....he was hot.

He was tall, blond, athletic and had a dreamy look in his eyes. 

He just stared. 

 

Another boy came up to him and said

"Let her go, man.  She's going to ruin herself.  We all know that God knows how to create perfection.  She's going to dye her hair and mess it up."

 

This is how I feel about spells.

 

God creates perfection.

 

It's best to ask his approval before fucking it up.

 

Ask God to prepare you so you can find the right woman for you.

 

Don't....wish to have sex with Siegfred. 

 

The first prayer will get you where you need to be.

 

The other is just a crap shoot. 

*****

Mercury was retrograde.  NONE of my phones were working.  Steve wound up calling my business line and he heard a message that I had recorded in 2009.

 

He remarked that I sounded happy on my message. 

 

Oh....I was. 

 

It was before politics.  It was before my ex spent the retirement.  It was before the stalking picked up.  I was vegan.  I was a size 8.  I was happy.  

 

It was a happy life. 

 

I want to be that person again. 

 

I'm ready to be that person again. 

I'm going to go back to being me.

 

I don't have to worry about playing small to avoid the ire of a divorce court.

 

I don't need to worry about pissing off a judge.

 

It's time to get back to the fun of life. 

Love ya,

 

S.