Bad Rapport

Today I am thankful for compost bins.

Someone at work is bringing crap loads of literature from the Libertarian Party to my workplace.

They make sure I see it.

I do.

I do something about it.

I throw it away.

The Libertarian Party is never going to win any seat of any consequence.....

Ever.

They don't have the social skills necessary to win the trust of the voters.

It's a sad reality.

*****

I identify as Pagan.  I was active in the party despite the sexism and bullshit.  For the most part, women are expected to do all the administrative tasks.  Men sit around and drink while telling you not to help Republicans fight tax hikes because preventing corporate welfare gets in the way of big business and jobs.

Yeah......when I heard crap like that, I figured it was the booze talking.  It is unwise to do one's political strategizing in bars.  The ideas don't flow very well.

It's akin to typing a blog post while waiting for your gel fingernail polish to dry and trying to convince someone to move out of your house nearly three years after they were ordered to leave.

My computer smells like acetone and my blood pressure is so high, I can see the veins in my hand writhe.

Just as I put up with the crazy ex who won't leave until I can get face time in front of a judge, I was okay with the crazies in the party.  I only did what I could.

I let some of the men verbally abuse me.  When it got to be too annoying, I'd grin and take out my pendulum and remind them that I'm a hypnotist.

They'd typically shut up.  One guy got a little too abusive and nasty.  I threatened to tell him my "limp noodle" hypnotist story.  I never did because I liked his wife.  This guy would tell me he was a Mason but I never saw him at the Masonic Temple.  Thankfully he's in Utah now. 

I was growing tired of the bullshit.  I was growing tired of making excuses for the bullshit.  When I got my job, I decided to tithe to the party rather than give them any more of my time. I started sending money.

The last straw was a press release Adrian Wylie sent out about a self-proclaimed Libertarian in Florida. It hit all the major news networks. 

I thought I was good at getting into the newspapers. I just smile, flirt and try to network with the reporters.  This guy was better at getting into the paper but for all the wrong reasons.

He had to dig up dirt to get printed. 

Wylie derided this man for making a sacrifice to the God of the Forest.

He didn't deride him for being a Nazi.

He derided him for being Pagan. 

He didn't understand that many Pagans are drawn to the Libertarian Party.

I brought this up to the guy in charge of the party and ask that he clarify that Pagans are welcomed into the party. 

He ignored me.

I learned that this wasn't the first time the Party had offended Pagans.

Oh - yeah, they ran a presidential candidate who claimed that Wicca was not a religion.

For years the head of the party wanted to know why so many registered Libertarians failed to be active in the party.  I think the answer is probably quite obvious - could it be that they are alienating people?

I hope the people at National get it now.

Another man at the National Headquarters welcomed Adrian Wylie back into the party quite publicly.

I left.

I'm just wasting my time with people like that.

They have so many little dramas behind the scenes that keep them from taking part of the greater play.

****

I've been asked, again, to join the Republican Party. 

I might.

I don't know. 

Truth be told, when something needs done - the Republicans and Democrats typically have my back.  The Republicans help with the fiscal issues.  The Democrats help with social issues.

The Libertarians like to argue while failing to listen.

Last week, I sent a letter to the fundraising guy at the National Headquarters asking him to remove me from his mailing list or clear up the idea that the Libertarian Party is hostile to Pagans.

I received my letter back un-read.  

So....

they don't care.

This is why they will never win.

They have no social skills.

They won't win.....ever.

I will continue to throw away their crap.

*****

I am ticked at the religious thing.  No one in their right mind is going to turn way from their spirituality due to a political ideology.

What would happen if they criticized a Christian farmer who slaughtered a cow to give the meat to charity? 

The Christians would be up in arms. 

This is what the Pagan man did. 

He tithed by purchasing a goat and sacrificing it. 

It was a stupid thing to criticize someone for.  It's not how I make my tithe but it is how this man did it.

To each his own.

I used to be vegan.  I pay farmers to kill fruit** by picking it from their mother tree and take those sacrifices to the food bank to honor the gods.  Every God has a different food that he or she enjoys.  My sacrifices usually entail sharing those gifts with others.

I'd be shocked if that were anything the press would go bonkers about.  Some crazy red-headed chick who smells like cloves and cinnamon gives Golden Apples (for Aphrodite), Grapes (Dionysus) and Oranges (for Apollo and Asclepius) to the food bank - big story there.

People of many faiths tithe in their own way.  A sacrifice is nothing more than a tithe.

I thought giving money and time to this stupid party was a tithing for Liber (a Roman version of Dionysus, known as the Father of Freedom). 

Dionysus is a God of the Forest.  He is one of my favorite Archetypes. How dare they piss on someone for making a sacrifice to the very Archetype that inspired me to give them money?

**This was a scenario posed by a Libertarian picking on me for not eating meat.  He could imagine the screaming of the baby carrots as they were plucked from the ground.  I am no longer Vegan due to my newly confirmed allergies to wheat, soy and peanuts.  A fat chick has got to eat something.

*****

I'm disgusted that someone was harassed over their religion by people I used to devote a lot of time and money to their cause.  That time and money can be utilized elsewhere.  I won't support assholes financially without the threat of jail time (sadly, one has to support corrupt governments until we can whittle down their power).  

The city I live in is now taxing V-8 and dietetic bars as soft drinks and candy.  The local government and I are going to have to have a little chit chat (or ballot initiative).  V-8 and whey protein bars are what I eat when I'm working hard to generate a head-tax for them and money to pay their sales tax.  They may want to rethink their ideas about what actually constitutes a candy bar and soda pop.

*****

If you know me, you know that I am incredibly spiritual.

I am not going to offend my Deities by giving credence to a bunch of assholes that are okay with making fun of religion.  I do wish a bunch of Maenads would tear the Party to shreds. That would be fitting considering their penchant for making fun of someone who honored the God of the Forest.

I figured it would be fitting to stop giving them time and money in honor of Liber.

I won't be the Maenad to bring destruction to the Party - they'll do it to themselves.

If you don't know the story, there was once a Greek politician who was upset that the single ladies would hang out in the forest to worship Dionysus and give into to their wildest desires. He passed a law making it illegal for them to do so.  Little did this politician know that his mother was drunk with the delirium of the movement, she and the other women lured this politic-rat into the forest and tore him to shreds when he tried to take away their ability to worship.

The first lesson is to be mindful of how you harass people.  You don't know who else has experienced similar harassment and will be turned away by your abuse or blindness to the behavior of people who abuse in your name.

The second lesson? Well....you never know who will tear you to shreds if you try to impinge upon their freedom.

Keep in mind, I grew up in the Mormon faith.  Mormons have a history of being persecuted for their religion.  This is probably why I am disgusted by the behavior of the Libertarian Party and their penchant for turning a blind eye to how others abuse people in their name.

My maternal Grandmother had Jewish relatives that died in Nazi Germany. I have memories of her sobbing in their memory quite often.....thirty years after she lost them.  I was given the Navy hat to a great-uncle (allegedly a grand-nephew of Ulysses S. Grant).  It is in my closet.  He joined the war when they lost contact with their loved ones in Germany.

I have absolutely no tolerance for religious discrimination.  I've seen too much.  I've heard too much.  I won't give money to organizations who f*ck with people over religion.  This is why I never joined the Republican Party.  Sadly, though - there really are no other viable options.

I've decided to play with the grown-ups now.  Besides, the conspiracy theorists in the party claimed Republicans and Democrats were Pagan worshipers.  I guess I'll fit right in.

On the bright side, I guess I can thank the Libertarian Party for my new compost, so I can plant trees in honor of the God of the Forest.

I've been sending money to a 501-C-3 in honor of Liber.  It is run by a Republican who fights tax hikes.  So long as they don't bitch about my religion, they'll get money.

Blessed be,

S.

Advice

 

 

Today I am thankful for old advice....

 

and new insight.

 

 

I was an orphan.  My parents didn't give a crap about me.  My relatives really didn't care either.

 

I grew up in freedom.

 

I did what I wanted to do.

 

My teenage daughter tried to explain to me why teenagers rebel against authority figures - to get attention.

 

It's hard to rebel against me. 

 

I believe in freedom.

 

I don't believe in authority figures outside of the Great Spirit.

 

We spoke about piercings. Apparently this is how teenagers rebel against their parents.

I told her that piercings are tribal in nature; we get piercings to show who we hang with.

 

It's okay to get piercings.  It's not my place to tell her what to look like. She's a legal adult.

 

I have no right to criticize or complain.

 

She said I didn't understand.

 

Teenagers need to rebel to have conversations that they are afraid to start otherwise.

 

She posited that I did not understand the concept of rebellion because I never had the experience of rebelling against anyone or anything.

 

I'm not so sure about that.  I seem to do a lot of arguing against people who think they have authority over everyone else. 

 

Anyway, my daughter then went on to say that she doesn't understand the dynamics of my home and urged me to do something. It's difficult for her to be at my house.

 

I don't know what to do either except wait for a court date.

 

Her perspective is interesting.

 

I'm not so sure that she's accurate.

 

My adventure into music was rebellion against my artistic parents.  They liked the visual arts.  They critiqued anything I drew.

 

I became a musician.  I started with classical training.

 

I rebelled by joining a rock band (we really sucked, by the way).

 

My adventure into a half decent country band was my rebellion against a rock musician who gave me what would turn out to be spectacular advice; he said that if you want to sound good you have to act like you're fucking whatever instrument you're playing.

 

I decided that I was too reserved for that.

 

That was a mistake.  My art lacked depth.

 

In my mind, one doesn't fuck expensive equipment - you make love to it - you make art with it.

 

I find this weighing on my mind.

I think of Ron every spring.  He died in the spring of '91 of a drug overdose.

 

That's the problem of the Dionysus archetype - you can easily get drawn into addiction.

 

I love Dionysus.  The God of Sex, Lust, Music and art.....I just have blood sugar issues and can't drink without getting sick.

 

I'm not sure if that would be a path to take before I get much older.  Should I go a different direction?

I'm not sure what I want now.

 

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I'm terrified to go back out in the public eye.

 

The stalking always picks up when I am in the public eye. 

 

Last week, I was asked to take on a project.

 

 

I will probably leave it alone.....

 

unless I change my name....

 

again. 

 

 

I wish I could do something about the stalking.

 

 

I don't think the legal system takes it seriously enough to do anything.

 

The only option I have left is too pack heat, move and consider changing my name to hide again.

 

Maybe....

 

I'm not so sure that will help at all.

 

 

How many red-headed, politically active, libertarian leaning, hypnotist, bass players who lust after saxophones are out there?

 

I can name one male who would fit the above description. He's in England. We used to talk on Skype before the stalking turned cyber.  

 

I guess the key to my survival might be to take up new hobbies, too.

 

Maybe I need to worship Aries a tad bit more. I'll go buy some red candles, steak and Fireball Whiskey.  I guess I know what I'll be doing Tuesday night.

 

I am really feeling worn out enough just to walk always from my house.  If Michael won't leave, maybe it's his strategy to get what he didn't get to take during the divorce settlement.

 

I hope something happens soon before I lose what is left of my mind.

 

Maybe my lesson from Ron should be this - don't be afraid to f*ck. 

 

If people are f*cking around with you, perhaps it's okay to screw them over just to get them away from you so you can get on with your life.

 

If Mike had told the truth and helped me solve the stalking, he'd still be with me.

 

He had to lie, steal, scheme and manipulate.  I'm tired.

 

I really am. 

 

Love ya,

 

S.

 

 

 

 

 



My Stalker Doesn't Like My Blog

Today I am thankful for revelations.

My ex-husband doesn't like my blog.  He mentioned that he thought my blog was how his family was getting information about where and when to find me.

Not so....there are no details posted. When they are, I change the times and days accordingly. 

I think there is another reason he dislikes the blog.  I'm probably not allowed to challenge his delusion and talk about the crazy crap going on.

I'm still trying to get a court date to get my ex-husband out of the house. 

I'll let you know what happens.

Love ya,

S.

Confrontations w/ edits

I'm trying to figure out what is on the stalker's playlist. 
I don't think he knows who the Dooby Brothers are. 
If he did, this song would probably fit.

Today I am thankful for options.

I'm finding myself debating going to the police department.

I can't say that the police department is actually helpful.  Many officers are insightful and they are very good about seeing the truth of the matter.  They are very open and straightforward about what they believe is going on.  They are also spot on when it comes to predicting future events.

They just refuse to take police reports.

If you watched the news a few years back, this is the police department that swiftly dealt with the theatre shooting nearly four years ago.  They put our injured neighbors in their squad cars and drove them to area hospitals. 

The day after the shooting, I was at a religious event across the street from that particular theatre when I stumbled upon a set of clothing (jeans and a burgundy shirt) buried in a hole.  The clothes weren't ratty.  They were fresh and the person didn't do a good job of hiding them.  I kicked a small bit of dirt and revealed the outfit. 

I walked across the street to alert the first officer I saw.  I only saw one.  I tried to tell him.  He was more interested in why I was there and to check my ID.  He was holding back tears.  I never got the chance to tell him about my discovery.

The next day, I ran into a City Councilman.  I told him.  I also told him to offer counseling to the officers.  He wanted to know why.  I gave him a general answer but he pressed on claiming that all of the officers had been debriefed.  Not so....I told him my experience with the officer at the theatre.  He pressed for a name. 

I told him that I forgot to remember.

I remember him.  He was the officer who came to my home when someone allegedly dialed 911 from my home at 2:00 in the morning. He pulled me aside and told me that he knew what was going on and that I wasn't going to get out of an abusive relationship without confiding in the police.

I refused.  My ex was in the process of suing the city.  I was fighting a tax hike. I thought the city leadership had arranged for this phone fun, especially since my telephone provider claimed that there was no record of anyone using the landline that day.  We didn't use the land line.  We used our cell phones for everything.

The officer was right.

I pray for him a lot. 

*****

Michael wants me to take my cell phone to the police department. 

I played the nine messages to him.

The fourth message was much longer than I realized.  There was silence for the first ten seconds or so then he asks me if I received his text messages.  It goes on to record an entire conversation we had about removing GPS location on the cell phones.

I always make it a point to turn off GPS location on my cell phone.  Somehow it always turns itself on.

The recording is closer to Michal than myself.  You can hear Michael clearly.  I am barely audible.

That's why I initially thought that Michael was the caller.

Michael is swearing up and down that he did no such thing.

He wants me to go to the police.

I'm debating it.  If I go to the police, they're going to do one of three things; (1) they will ignore me and tell me to kick my ex out, (2) they'll arrest him or (3) tell me that there is nothing that they can do and to not to let someone drive me crazy.

Over the years, this has been my experience. 

Michael swears up and down he didn't call me.  He thinks we were recorded and someone called me to play back the recording.

Should I go to the police and waste my time?

I'm debating it.

This entire stalking thing is a time drain. 

I'm tired of it.

I'll let you know what happens.

Love,

S.

End of the Day Edit:  Well, going to the police department was a colossal waste of time.  I called and explained the situation and the officer told me to drive down to the headquarters.  I drove down there  I looked around and prayed for the fallen officers and watered the blessed tree.  I cursed the tree with a blessing to protect the taxpayers.  The city will not pass a tax hike until they stop levying illegal fines on employees.

'Tis good to be a witch. 

There is a catch to my religion.  Spells suck.  They change the course of one's path.  If you do too many spells, you wind up going in circles trying to figure out where to go. 

I feel like I've lost my sense of direction. 

Lesson learned.

I cast spells sparingly.

I've cast four to stop the stalking. The first few times I did that one of my in-laws died.  First Bill (my father-in-law), then Shannon (my sister-in-law and then Glenn (the uncle who harassed me because he thought I hated gay people - I fought Amendment 2 - he had no clue who I am).  The last spell was cast in September after someone turned on my garden hose and lit some paper on fire in my front yard after banging on the front door.  As I lit my peppery black candles, I prayed that no one would die and that I only wanted what had to happen to make the stalking to stop.

My ex lost his job.  The stalking has slowed down considerably.  I guess it's hard to stalk when one does not have funds.

I walked through the city building courtyard, remembering the speeches, the newspaper articles and interviews conducted in those gardens, mingling with the Comic Con people who vowed to protect those who came to mourn those fallen in a theatre shooting.  I remembered the former mayor who pushed me into a door and how he inspired me to be a pretend politician.  He told me I had no voice in the city.  Let me tell you something, if you run for Mayor no one in the city will ignore your voice.

That was fun. 

I left the precinct debating whether or not I needed to run for City Council or if I need to buy a guitar and record some music to express my frustration that there is a city disrespecting the Goddess Aurora.

You can't honor the goddess of the dawn while forcing others to live in darkness.

Maybe they are honoring her, Aurora was a little short-sighted.  She fell in love with a mortal and begged Zeus to make her love immortal.  In her haste, she forgot to ask to give him the gift of eternal youth so as time went by, he became so shriveled that she hid him away in a room until the Gods took pity on him and turned him into a cicada.

Maybe the local politicians, emulate the mistake of the beautiful Goddess to much. They think about today and, often, forget about how their plans impact the tomorrows of the citizenry.

I entered the police department and paid my respects to the images of seven officers who have passed this year. I prayed that there wouldn't be an eighth as I held holy relics in my hands. 

I was greeted by an officer who directed me to the front desk. I met a woman and told her about the nine phone calls.  She told me to get a new phone and another number.  I pulled out my second phone and told her that I have.  I let her know that this is the third phone I've had in thirty days. 

"Does your ex-husband know your other phones?" She asked.

"No."

"Do you get these hang up and recorded calls on the phones he doesn't know about?"

"No."

She said just to ignore the calls and to get a restraining order against my ex-husband.  I told her that I was scared because the third message sounds like a recorded conversation between my ex-husband and I.  My ex-husband said he didn't call me.  If he's telling the truth, that would mean someone else is recording the conversations.  I'd like to know what to do.

It's not nearly as scary if my ex is doing this crap on his own.  I don't know who these other players are and I don't know what they are capable of.  I'm terrified.

She said it was just harassing calls and to ignore them.   I told her that in April I came home to find my computer taken apart with screws missing and some type of RAT software on computer. 

I told her that this has been going on since 1992.  It became frightening in 2012 and I called an Aurora detective.  She told me to get a divorce. I did.  It never stopped.

She told me to wait until Monday to call the detective.  They didn't want to hear the messages.  They don't want to see my computer. 

They probably won't do shit until I wind up six feet under.

This is why the child who swore off firearms has a gun. 

I'd love to tell the Democrats on the Council that the PD is the reason I have to pack heat.  I'm going to remind the sitting Democrat Senator who tried to talk me out of getting a gun that I really don't have a choice.

There is an idiotic Senator from Englewood who told me that the stalking law he championed would help.  He didn't listen.  Laws don't mean a thing if the police ignore it. 

Sigh...

I wish he could hear me now.

I'll let him know when I see him.

I could do so much more with my talents.  I could feed the hungry, give therapy to those in need but no....I find myself wasting time trying to stay safe from asshats.

Maybe I should cast more protection spells.

I was never really into the Keys of Solomon but I am feeling pushed into that direction.  It's best to try to solve problems in our reality using the tools of our culture (e.g. going to the police) rather than asking entities for help.  Maybe there are times we need to turn to our spirituality and paranormal knowledge for help.   

Don't piss off a witch.

The problem is that my worst spells are cast from a place of fear.  Fear changes things and not for the better.  The problem is that I'm there - in a state of fear.  My usual state of mind is somewhere between curiosity and creativity. 

Didn't I learn the lesson from Star Wars?





I'd rather be investing my energy in more positive pursuits.

Negativity attracts the worst kind of energy into your life.  I'd rather not have any part of it.

I guess I need to refresh a curse/blessing against the city. 

Edit two days later:  My top-secret phone looks exactly like Michael's.  I tried to put the kids on CHP+ due to the fact that Michael isn't working.  The county demanded that I include Michael as a member of my household (which is a violation of CMS rules).  I received a letter yesterday that says that Michael and the kids are one household unit that qualifies for Medicaid.  I am a household of one and make too much money to receive assistance.

I put the paperwork on Michael's computer so he cannot use his uninsured status to try to goad me into marrying him again.  I must have accidently picked up his phone rather than my secret phone.

I didn't notice until later in the day.

He noticed right away and had my phone for thirteen hours  I need a fourth phone now. 

A weird thing happened.  I didn't go through his phone. There were anime characters with my name and resemblance on the phone so I figured it belonged to one of the kids.

It turns out I had his phone.

He must have thought I took it to the police.

He admitted to making some of the calls, especially one of the scary ones.

That's weird.

I am still getting strange silent breathing calls.  I'm downloading them to my studio computer and using Cool Edit Pro to amplify parts of the calls and remove background noises.  Doing this, I learned that the caller is male.  In the last call, he whispers the the word "damn" right before hanging up.  He's from Colorado because a male in the background is talking about Colorado law.

I find this interesting.

If you're going to harass someone, do NOT harass a musician.  We'll catch ya. The worst part is that we have a knack for identifying voices. 

I'll find out who this is

Love,

S.

Catch me if you can. 

Silent Calls

The more I ponder this situation, the more I wonder who has the most control of whom.  Is he controlling me? 
Or does he perceive me to have control over him?
Why am I not allowed to get away?

Today I am thankful to hear the voice on one of my silent calls.

So much has happened and I don't know exactly what to write about.  In a nutshell, there are suitors everywhere - one is a local celebrity, another is a beautiful man with haunting blue eyes who I later found out was the manager who allowed me to park in his store's lot to hide me from my ex.  The man with the blue eyes has taken a security job at a local store that sells home surveillance equipment and, as he helped me purchase cameras for my home, he made it known that he wants to stay in touch.

You know, it doesn't matter how many men are near me, I can't get to know any of them due to the crap I'm enduring.  Yes, I hear complaints about my "walls" and my need to be secretive.

Yes, I am in survival mode.  You can't really date someone in survival mode.

There was one development that I need to share.

For months, I've been plagued by silent calls on my business and cell phone lines that last about 30 seconds to a minute each.

I've had trouble emailing people and getting messages.

My phones go offline quite a bit and when I can get them back online, I'll find ten or so of these silent messages.

Rather than listening to the entire message, I tend to listen just a few seconds into them before saving them.

Today I decided to listen to each and every one of them.

I received nine of these calls today. The fourth one was the most interesting.

It was silent for twenty seconds.  I heard a door open and shut.  Then I heard Michael's voice.

He was asking me if I received his text messages.


Then I heard my own voice growing closer.  I think I had just come home from work.

I said that I had and the call ended.

Michael is the person contacting me on my cell phone.

I just can't figure out why his phone number doesn't show up during these calls.

This is incredibly weird.

I wanted to document this just in case something creepy happens.

I know it has to be him. 

The worst part now is that my relatives are asking him for favors and referring to him as "my husband."  I don't like it.  I correct them.  He's continuing to insert himself into my life.

I don't know how to put a stop to it.   He was supposed to move out on April the 8th.  He wanted to switch his move out date to April 15th.  Then he swore up and down that he'd move in with his mother on May 1st to, as he put it, "stop the stalking."  He claims his mother is putting his relatives up to stalking me.

He's still here.  It's costing me a fortune.  I need to take stock of my options.  I know I can take him to court and have him evicted.  I'm not so sure that will put a stop to the stalking: I fear it will just make it worse.

Love ya lots,

S.