What do married men think when they hit up old friends?
Wanna know what goes through my mind?
This....except the robots are black, silver and purple striped.
Yeah.....
I am thankful to be so busy that I am now avoiding everyone.
It's a long story.
Apparently, my subconscious mind thinks my first male childhood friend is my first love. Nearly everything I saw in the dreams is happening (except the stuff that won't happen if I don't visit with him).
Yeah, a guy from my past sent me....um....
hmm....
searching for a description while being in denial...
let's just say messages.
This guy and the guy I thought it would be grew up to resemble each other.
One is a liberal techie.
The oldest friend is more of a kind-hearted politician (kind-hearted towards animals, obnoxious towards asshats), weapons collector, and loner (kinda like me).
So -
I'm freaking out a little.
Just so ya know -
maybe there is something to this unconscious collective business. Perhaps we do pick up on the desires emanating from other people. Perhaps the warnings come to us in dreams.
I've been dreaming of this warning since 2005.
Thank goodness I'm too busy to think (or even sleep).
Pay attention to your dreams. They'll let you know what to allow into your life and what to avoid.
This man -
he's married.
I am NOT going there.
Good thing I'm going back to school.
Love ya,
S.
Okay, okay...Maybe I'll ground myself and call him.
Seriously, though,....a good friend does not ruin a marriage.
We were never romantically involved -so- it's just a tad bit shocking.
This is typically the point where I would run away.
That'll just piss off my Deities....so...
I guess it's time to pray
[Well, after I binge on chocolate and play a lot of slap bass. That's how I handle stress. I'll do me. You do you. I hope he does his wife...or himself in a pinch.]
After my experience with Facebook blocking my posts and casting that spell to shut them down for six hours (should have made that 666 hours), I've started to go dark and keep most of my activities hidden.
That is actually part of the Wiccan belief system. I'm not Wiccan but talking about one's activities typically chills them.
It hasn't so far -but- I'm starting to be less obvious about it.
I'm still working with more than fifty homeless folks in various places around town. I haven't been confronted or arrested yet. I would say that the biggest helps to people in that bind are
1. Reminding them that they are valuable human beings,
2. Providing Case Management to help with addictions, employment, education, health issues, etc.
are the keys to solving the problem.
Not-
1. Throwing money at people via middlemen who take a huge chunk of change for themselves
2. Raising property taxes
3. Raising the costs of property ownership via regulation
4. Pretending to be homeless for a day and lying about the superficial reasons people are homeless to assuage yourself of the guilt you feel for promoting bad regulations (especially that bit about nodding to cities who only approved zoning for McMansions to get more tax revenue creating a need for affordable housing). Yes, I'm bitching about one local politician here.
These things do not help at all.
I don't have a YouTube channel featuring these activities. I don't really talk about them to anyone other than people who help me find ways to help them.
This is probably why I roam at-large. I know a woman who posts about her activities, she's the one who gets arrested.
(Maybe I should light a candle for justice with her name on it? Justice can be a tricky thing to pray for because it will take down anyone who does anything wrong. I dislike those spells. So many things are hidden, it's just better to leave well enough alone.)
Now, I work twelve hours per day with the weekends free. Next year, I'll work twelve hours per day, seven days a week until May.
This is beautiful because - I sleep three hours a day and hence don't have dreams.
*****
I saw that White House Press Briefing where Psaki said something akin to 'the White House is flagging posts for Facebook to take down.' This was a month or so before they fucked with my account (the day before they went down - don't mess with witches, idiots!).
When I and a couple of activists suspected the local paper in town was doing that in favor of the Democrats, we immediately found a way to get the politicians they favored in trouble for illegal campaign contributions (because that activity is a type of help and contribution to a campaign - a valuable one at that). It didn't come to that because the paper finally allowed Conservatives and Libertarians to share their views and we were not censored.
I'm wondering if that could be done on a Federal level. (Please, someone, steal that idea.)
Today, I read (an old article) stating that Psaki wants people like me to be suspended from all social media accounts.
I want to put something out to this Commrade's higher self:
Sure. Go ahead, fight to try to shut people like me up.
Make my day.
It will be your undoing.
I'm sure anyone so adoring of Russian fairytales (e.g. the promise of Communism)
understands the story of The Baba Yaga (an 'evil' witch.)
In each of those stories, there is a thread.
One who enters the house of Baba Yaga has one of two fates; he or she either succumbs to the powers of the witch -or- she becomes the embodiment of evil (thus becoming the Baba Yaga herself).
Be mindful of your energy.
As for me, I'll keep my future endeavors secret until they've manifested.
*****
I meant to only write to share a story.
This is the story I want to share. It would seem that people are finding proof of what most of my friends have been saying since March 2020. Take a peek.
This is all just a ruse to undermine our Republic and move the world closer to a one-world government.
There are traitors who will eventually look beautiful behind bars.
We knew the UN was pushing for this kind of crap 15 years ago when they tried to get mayoral candidates to sign that damn ICLEI pledge.
This is possibly why Blackrock is buying up all the property in the US. I haven't had a chance to research that yet.
Feel free to research - just dig deep. The information on the surface is pure crap.
*****
Off to run to the mall for preparations for my open house. Hopefully, the energy of this house will inspire one to succumb to the powers of their own goodness.
Our family tradition is having a meal and present for any soul who needs one.
Christmas is a Pagan holiday.
For us, it's the holiday of Dionysus...
It's time to celebrate and (because I am a bad Bacchae), I'll have to beg forgiveness for my inability to have the type of party he would approve of...
I'll party for liberty and freedom.
Orgies...not so much.
I'm Ace after all.
Other than that, the reasons I'm holding my lighter will be kept secret.
The fact I'm not using matches should help one feel less afraid; the sulfur in matches is typically used for cursing folks. Man, I would have a lot of use for sulfur now.
Too much is hidden behind scheming politicians, media engaged in censorship, and internet bots leaving misleading comments on feeds.
This is the perfect time to hide my activities beneath all the bullshit.
I urge you, in this new year, to do your own research and follow older sources (especially research journals). If you've been doing that, you'll know masks have been researched to the hilt for over 20 years (there's no evidence they work) and you'll read about those gain of function studies that created Covid19.
To quote George Clinton "Free your mind and your ass will follow."
Love ya,
S.
P.S. Yes, I always say that I'll come back to edit the bad punctuation and grammar, but then I don't. I'm just too darn busy.
Hugs....
Dec. 26, 2021:
Well, the house was packed. The only things I have left of the "extra gifts" are two candles and a huge overstuffed sherpa blanket. Most of my guests were college students studying neuropsychology or bioengineering (two master's students, one doctoral student, and an undergrad).
Weird...I guess it's true that we attract what we are.
One person showed up to tell me that a bass player for a goth band has a crush on me. I didn't tell her that I originally introduced this guy to the instrument when he was a kiddo.
She's trying to set us up.
Um.....
NO.
I'm not a cougar.
One of my 13 sisters was there. She's the one who I had to rescue from prostitution years ago. I have to dress down for her, not wear make-up and put my contact lenses away or else she will literally cause a scene. I sat there wearing my baggy clothes, in coke bottle lenses and hair I didn't comb wearing just tinted sunscreen and mascara.
She presents me with a huge bag
of makeup and slutty clothes.
They were all one size too small.
Isn't that sweet? She's not calling me fat.
Then she tells me, her former pimp's son is a recent divorcee and she wants me to meet him.
Oh,
suddenly, I found myself overbooked in 2022.
I'm not sure what will take over the remaining five hours per day I have nothing going on.
I'm sure I'll find something.
Parties are weird.
Next time, I'm hiring a male escort to visit. It'll be the easiest day on the job for him; he'll probably want more Ace clients after that gig.
May your holidays be extra special and your New Year full of promise.
Today I am thankful that I decided NOT to advertise on Facebook again.
So....I'm done with school.
All that is left for licensure is a test.
That's it.
It's time to start another business.
I paid an artist to design my logo. She's a single mom and lost her job to Covid.
It's an amazing logo.
She designed my stationary, too.
I'm building a website and trying to decide if I want to merge my hypnosis business with my counseling practice or keep them separate.
On a coding break, I went to Facebook.
I liked a post featuring this video:
Love this guy!
Then I tried to leave a comment for a friend who has not dropped a touch of the demon drink for fourteen years.
Facebook sent me this:
So I waited two hours.
I tried to leave a comment on a colleague's post complimenting her picture; that woman doesn't age.
I got the same message.
So.....
what gives Facebook?
I haven't really been on that site for two weeks.
Even then, it was only to check my messages.
There is no way I raised any liberal hackles on that damn website. I rarely use it!
So....
I haven't really been doing the activist thing. There is nothing that a Demoncrat could call me out for.
I watch the bi-weekly Monday Aurora City meeting on Youtube because that's all the asshats in power will allow.
It's preparatory.
Not sure what I'm going to do yet.
The meetings are annoying.
Here's a hint -
If you're the mayor or councilperson, the least you can do is look interested.
Damn!
I'm embarrassed by some of the filters used by the female councilmembers, too.
I wonder if we are soon gonna go the way of Cuba - to Communism?
The first thing to go is the freedom of speech! Facebook is so darn deep state. No wonder people are stocking up on toilet paper. Remember those news stories with the long lines of people in Russia waiting for toilet paper? Apparently, a lot of people remember that!
There is something weird going on in politics. The big tech corporations are pushing a liberal agenda.
(Why is the jingle for Rice-a-Roni going through my head?)
This is no treat: It's a San-Francisco trick!
While big tech pushes liberalism, the liberals and the RINOs push regular folks out of politics.
I have my ace in the hole.
I got mad.
I did a thing; it wasn't expensive, fattening, or illegal. Outside of that, I'm not gonna talk about it.
Let's see what happens now.
If thousands of people are irritated like I am. The fan is gonna be brown.
Things are about to get interesting.
S.
NEXT DAY EDIT: Well....it worked!! I'm a little shocked being that we are in Mercury Retrograde and all.
Gotta do that the next time they single me out. Next time I'll ask that they go down for more than six hours.
Better go light some incense to express my gratitude.
Today I am thankful for stories; they are often the easiest teaching tool.
The other day I had an interesting conversation with a social worker. She complained that one of her patients was stuck at a certain year -
let's say...
2008.
This man talks about 2008 constantly. He shares photos of 2008 and letters of 2008.
I asked her, what happened that year?
Well, three members of his family died. His best friend died in front of his eyes. His spouse died. He lost his home.
The man was wealthy.
Sadly, the evil eye is real. Covetousness is real. The U.S. justice system enables abusive lawyers to swoop in and take control of the wealth of well-to-do elders. There were fights over his assets**.
The lawyers threw him out of his numerous homes.
The man was then homeless while everything went through probate and the relatives fought over the estate.
His wealth started to drain away.
He rarely has food.
Sadly, this is something I've seen numerous times through the years. The worst case was one in which the conservators didn't take the guns. The man shot himself in the head and passed away. Taking control of his life was his final act.
Trauma......
Trauma changes our concept of time.
We get stuck in the year of trauma. We go back to revisit it. We want to understand why. We want to fix it internally. We want to understand that which is confusing. We want to understand what is incomprehensible at first, while we are still dealing with the raw emotions.
Sadly, we rarely understand the incomprehensible. Instead, we have to grow to accept it.
The goal is to help the individual process the events and change the time in which he exists.
That is the nature of trauma. We get stuck in it.
I'm sad that no one realizes that this man was traumatized.
Right now, I'm stuck on the question of which cracker-jack box the social worker got her master's degree.
Sigh -
Trauma changes us.
Be kind to each other. For each of us is fighting a hard battle that few people see.
**It's weird...I don't get out as much as I used to because of Covid. I'm still meeting numerous people whose parents are caught in the trap of conservatorship with so-called "agencies" which steal the families' wealth. I've met two individuals stuck in this mess where the involvement of a conservator is questionable at best.
I'm not so stupid to think I can do something to control the problem. I can, however, educate lawmakers.
Maybe.....I should run for office?
Divinity must want me to do something. If I meet one more soul in this mess within the next year, I'll have to do something.
My aunt visits once a week to use the washer and dryer.
My new dryer broke just a few days out of warranty so we dried her clothes outside.
While standing outside, she took me aside an said "I don't want to alarm you, but....."
then she got silent.
I pointed at the shed.
"Are you worried about all the stuff pulled out of the shed?", I asked.
"Yes.", she replied.
"That happens all the time!"
She advised me to chain the door. I've done that. The thief just tears the roof off.
It's easier just to keep crap in it I don't care about so the thief can rummage and take what he or she wants.
Again, I was advised to consider moving, especially after finding a full gas can in the mess.
My aunt is afraid my ex-husband is going to kill me. I've been court-ordered to live here for another two years.
Sigh....
I'm sure a judge would allow me to move if I asked.
At least I know where I will be buried....
maybe....
I may just change my mind.
Let me explain.
****
The fall solstice is a Pagan Holiday. It's our harvest holiday. We decorate our homes in fall colors and prepare to reap the rewards bestowed upon us by the Gods.
It is also my uncle's birthday.
My uncle died in December of last year. In fact, last year I lost my aunt Barbara, my aunt Judy and my uncle Roger in the span of nine months.
They are all buried at the Arvada Cemetary. They are one row behind notable members of the family (e.g. Clark Ringling) and several rows behind an old friend's parents.
Today I loaded my car up with flowers and set them around the graveyard.
The first grave on my route belongs to my old friend's parents. There was a huge crack in the plot in front of the headstone. I set the flowers down and laughed asking if they were trying to escape.
Grass over a coffin is a sign of a life well-lived.
Then I thanked them for treating me like a human being during a time in my life when I was horribly abused and asked them to watch over their son and keep him away from me for his own good.
Truth be told, I'm sure they are in some type of paradise and aren't even giving a thought of coming back into this limbo world.
Then I went to my family patch of graves and left some flowers.
Witches have a superstition that grass does not grow over the final resting place of an evil person.
Um.....
yeah.....
So......
My uncle and one of the aunts had custody of me after my parents died. They abandoned me. It's all good. I learned to survive very at a very young age and I probably wouldn't be the heathen I am today if not for them.
My aunt....well...let's just say she acted out of her trauma.
She's the one I am worried about. In fact, I went to her grave on All Saint's Day last year praying for her soul.
I guess I'll come back on All Saint's Day to pray for her soul again.
Well, maybe not.
Look at that picture! There are huge cracks on this plot. It appears that someone is trying to escape that grave, too.
I think I'll just buy a plot at the graveyard in Cherry Hills Village where my grandparents are resting unless I wind up moving to Timbuktu.
I don't want to join the Zombie rebellion! When I ditch this popsicle stand, I have no plans on returning unless I'm a wraith fighting abusive politicians. It is said that witches return to this world as wraiths.
Okay....okay...the truth is that I'd rather be somewhere where they care for the lawn.
It's Friday but I'm in school so there is no such thing as a weekend.
I think I'm suffering from a broken heart -
or I'm gonna have a heart attack.
This week sucked.
It started on my birthday. I took the day off of work to clean up the house because workplace birthdays are AWKWARD.
They'll ask how old I am -and- I'll relate the memory of dirt being created.
Not fun...
So I decided to stay home and clean.
Much of the mess belonged to one of my adult daughters.
It was irritating. When she got home, I wanted to buy dinner for everyone. We discussed Chinese Food as a birthday dinner. No one wanted to go to a restaurant so I offered to take everyone's orders and drive to pick it up.
No one...not one of the three kids living here wanted to tell me what they wanted or help me pick it up.
My feelings were hurt. It was my birthday but it was the same old thing. I was to do everything, even manage to bring dinner home on my own.
I became upset and frustrated. Left to my own devices, I started to think about the time just a few months ago when the messy kiddo told everyone my ankle wasn't broken so they refused to help around the house and let me languish on the garage floor for several hours until I could crawl up the step and into the house. I remembered some of the other bullshit she pulled,, lying to me about being in college so she could live here rent-free, constantly bitching that I didn't throw out her dad sooner, and claiming that I'm lying about being stalked. I'm also to blame because she was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and she claims her sisters each have one, too.
I basically told the adult kids that if they didn't want to be part of the family, they could move out. None of them are paying rent or really helping with chores.
So - maybe it had to happen.
You know what? One of them moved out and took the cat that night.
She left a mess for me.
Now, I have to clean out her room. There are a lot of scummy dishes all over the place. It is a pigstye.
I also have to hire an electrician to fix the mess she made of the electrical. Apparently, she jerry-rigged a light fixture on the ceiling...
I still have to hire a plumber to fix the mess left in the kitchen as the new faucet and some of the pipes the contractors replaced broke. My daughter wanted to sue them - but- it's probably easier to just fix it.
Maybe I should post a picture of the 2' hole they left in my upstairs bathroom. They leaned a mirror up against it to hide the hole from the inspectors.
Ugh -
sigh...
So now I'm taking out a home loan. The smallest loan I can get is $35,000.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do with $35,000. I only need $17,000 to fix the mess the contractors left.
I guess I'll just pay it back. There is no origination fee...so, that's good. I'll get the check and put it back.
Whatever -
It's still depressing. I get to hear about how much I suck from the other kids.
Perhaps, I'll get to downsize sooner than I realize. :)
*****
It's fall.
Things are beginning to die.
The leaves on the trees are dying.
My country is dying.
There is no such thing as free speech.
Our freedoms are being eroded.
Driving around town,
I get the sense that the politicos are trying to normalize homelessness.
Now, I am seeing a new batch of senior citizens sleeping in tents.
There are so many people now -
I'm not sure what to do.
It's wrecking my faith.
Why would Divinity let this happen?
It's not right.
*****
I'm having chest pains and taking several aspirins per day.
This is probably a psycho-somatic broken heart.
My heart is broken.
My country is broken.
My family is broken (but I do need to get the adult cowpokes to mosey on out of here because I'm too busy to clean up after them - the house looks a lot better now)...
This must be what depression feels like.
The only solution I can think of is to stop listening to Country Music because it is souring my mood.
On the bright side,
I can let go of the guilt of working a second job. The kids don't want me at home, so I can do my thing without the guilt of leaving kids at home. After my ex-husband ripped me off, I need to save for my retirement.
If that can be done, given the state of the economy. Banks are making it harder to get credit. This isn't going to bode well for small business owners - you know, the people who offer the bulk of the jobs in the nation.
My daughters complain that I have a well-stocked pantry. I grew up in the Mormon faith where I was taught to have one year's worth of food on hand.
That's what I do.
Maybe I won't have to hear about that anymore either. My kids made fun of me for that (but we made it through the Covid shortages pretty well last year). Have you seen the shelves at the supermarket lately? I'm glad I'm stocked up.
I didn't realize how much my feelings were hurt at home until I had a moment's peace to reflect. It's nice not worrying that someone is going to complain because I brought a plant home.
Yeah, that was a problem, too. Now, I can go back to hydroponics in the basement now without getting bitched at.
There was a lot of bitching.
There is a lot less of it now.
***** Maybe I am thankful for lessons.
There is a lesson in the madness -
Please grasp the little moments of joy that you can. Those little moments are what life is all about.
The dreams are either of him dying gruesome deaths
or ruining our lives.
The dreams creep me out to the point I scream his name.
The screaming the name makes it hard for me to be in an intimate relationship.
So -
I have a huge house to myself
and a whole slew of lies I tell if someone is here and happens to hear me scream out that infernal name.
My favorite line is:
"I dreamt I was Getty Lee singing...."
Modern Day Warrior,
mean,
mean,
stride...
No one buys the lie, ever.
I thought it would be okay if I fell in love with a guy with that name.
It's never happened.
There is a beautiful man named Tim, though.
We had so very much in common; we both studied music, played numerous instruments, loved helping the homeless, we had a penchant for being in the public eye -
but he is a legalistic Christian.
We are both very prayerful and faithful people.
We just don't pray the same way.
It took five years of prayers -but- he finally got married last year.
Yeah, he married during Covid so I got to cry while watching him and his gorgeous bride tie the knot from my cold phone.
I love it when my prayers are answered.
****
In the past, the only thing that stopped the dreams of that blast from the past was being too busy to sleep.
It wasn't a problem when I was in college and working full time.
When I went to graduate school, they hit with full force.
So -
I choose to be alone.
Common knowledge promises that time will heal all wounds, all pain, and help people move on.
Common knowledge is lacking.
****
In July of last year, the dreams got ultra-creepy.
I've been doing rituals "to give [dude] that which he needs the most."
and for me "to only act appropriately** if our paths cross again."
In some of the dreams -
I'm not myself.
The rituals are awkward. It was really weird last week. A relative went into my room and stared at the white candles. She probably thinks I'm up to something disgusting. She knew the verbally obnoxious bullshit this person used to say to me.
No, I don't want him back. I'm just trying to protect him and finally get some sleep.
Once in a while, someone will ask about him. Why did I let him go?
Well....we want different things in life.
I have no clue what he wants; maybe to behave like a toxic man making women look small for his ego. He did that to me when I was in the papers. He made fun of my politics on Facebook, in front of the reporters who connected to me on that infernal website.
I can't have a man like that around me.
What do I want? I want to end the political bullshit that limits our freedoms and hurts those among us with the least*.
Let's just say we are very different people.
*****
Enter vodka....
The problem with alcohol is that it messes with our sleep cycles so that I sleep around three hours before waking up and go about my day.
No REM sleep = No dreams.
I'm exhausted but my heart isn't hurting anymore.
Alcohol messes with blood sugar and leads to weight gain.
I also find myself eating too much to stay awake.
The older one gets, the harder extra weight is on the joints.
In other words, I can't do this forever.
Besides, it doesn't stop all of the dreams.
****
Once in a while, the Chango dream leaks through -
It won't be long before I meet the one who will help me with the homeless. Chango shows me how I'll meet him.
He also shows me that the majority of people living in the streets are there because of racism. I had a recurring dream of an older man of color praying beside a green trash can.
Yes, people pray for help.
If time could heal all wounds, there is a huge wound that needs healing.
It's a shame people in power do more to keep the wound from healing than to help it heal.
Good thing I don't listen to the liberal white asshats trying to teach bullshit theories based on race that make people of color out to be weak and Caucasian people to be heartless and stupid.
With all the help I get from Oschun and Chango, I must have some African blood in my DNA. Or maybe it is due to my family history of fighting to end slavery.
I wonder if those white professors know what happened to the freed slaves in the south who hadn't won the protection of whites in power?
I doubt it. Few people seem to know about the mass graves.
Disgusting, race-baiting theories are only going to slow down the healing of a messed-up society.
****
Perhaps the dreams are to remind me to love EVERYONE and to work on keeping everyone safe and free.
****
I took about a decade off to raise the kids my ex refuses to help and a couple of kids whose parents abandoned them for their sexual orientation.
The last one is about to graduate from high school.
It feels like all of the fights I let go of are staring me right in the face now.
The loss of our civil rights,
abusive conservatorship,
tax hikes said to help the poor but the money never goes where promised,
so many things.
The Divine is shoving these things in my face until they are solved.
My prediction was right, however, the new transplants to Aurora fixed the murderous pit bull government.
There must be more people in this city to help with the other issues.
If I keep putting off the war, I will meet more people suffering the same issues.
I know what I have to do.
There is a meeting a couple of weeks from now to determine if I'll have the backing of a group of people.
We'll see.
*****
I had a relative stop by yesterday to survey the damage to my garage.
It terrified her. We spoke of a plan.
She advised me to move out of the country because of my ex-husband and his creepy family. She's seen this too much over the past thirty years and is afraid he's going to murder me.
I'm going to take out yet another home improvement loan and secure my home with thicker doors.
My house will be a fortress.
I wish my heart were one.
Love ya,
S. -*
** not speaking Latin, not falling for any emotional dishonesty, not worrying about him if he claims (again) that it wasn't his idea to get into a certain place (move in or marry someone described as toxic) or any excuse he offers up for some of the weird shit he's done in the past.
Let's see;
- he's ridiculed me publicly, writing that I thought myself to be "Ann Rand" only proves he has no clue who I am,
- years ago, he forgot about breaking up with me and followed me to my apartment several months later and waited for me outside of my window. It is said that he allegedly tried to beat up my roommate in a convenience store. Luckily, for him, tough guys don't engage in small fights.
Talk about toxic masculinity! As they say, toxic folks attract toxicity so I'm not shocked about the stories.
To be quite honest, I don't know why this man came back three times. There are other men I've known since childhood who come back to visit. None have incited violence and none have ridiculed me in a public forum.
Maybe the dreams are a dress rehearsal warning me to behave myself (no cursing, no glaring, and no falling for sappy shit that'll just break my heart again).
I have no clue. It's almost as if I have to remember the bs because running into him at some point is inevitable.
Today I am thankful for the reminder that we are responsible for our own safety.
So...
I had to take a kiddo to a doctor's appointment.
Sadly, I have a tendency to get lost
(so don't ask me for directions or you'll accidentally discover new places, too)
I wound up driving past Micro Center.
My kiddo was thirsty. I pull over into the 7-11 to get her a Slurpee, myself a coffee, and a fancy coffee for Hermes.
It's Wednesday after all. I need to be better about honoring my deities as I'm pretty sure I irritated him a couple of months ago.*
We get our loot, hop back into the car, and hit the road. The moment I hit Quincy, I saw a fire in the middle of the road.
Seriously.....someone had dumped a bunch of hot coals near a bunch of overgrown, dried grass in the median. By the time I made it near the fire, it grew a little larger.
I asked my kiddo to dial 911.
THEY HAD AN AUTOMATED SYSTEM WHICH PUT HER ON HOLD!
She was on hold for a couple of minutes before I asked her to hang up, Google the fire department and call them. So, doing as she was instructed, she called the fire department and was rerouted back to 911.
I asked her to hang up and I'd try.
By this time, we had hit I-225. I call and get Aurora dispatch.
She reroutes me to Denver where
(wait for it.....)
I'm put on hold.
(you probably guessed that, huh?)
When I get to a stopping point, I try to dial the fire department myself and find myself on perma-hold.
I gave up.
Twenty-two minutes later, I realized that someone probably put out the fire or people just died cause the fire grew.
There was no point trying any further.
This, dear Democrat gun-control nutzos, is why we need guns.
When in an emergency situation, there is absolutely no guarantee the authorities will answer your call, let alone save you.
I am realizing I need to carry a few dozen fire towels in my trunk so if this crap ever happens again, I can pull over and smother out the flames.
I wonder if they make fire blankets?
It looks like I've got some research to do.
When I get brave, I'll turn on the news and make sure MicroCenter is still standing.
The best insurance is preparation.
Love ya,
S.
I have a copy of this statue on my altar with one exception. There is a leaf hiding Herme's private bits (wouldn't you guess that would exist in an asexual person's house - lol? I could never find another statue like it or I'd replace mine.)
*So....there is a story to my broken ankle.
Ten minutes before I fell...
I was cleaning out my bedroom and knocked over a statue of Hermes.
His left ankle broke off the statue.
I glued it back on....crooked...
You can tell the ankle was broken and reglued.
After I glued the ankle, the young adults living here complained they were hungry.
I promised them burgers so I ran out to the garage to hop in my car,
my right knee (which I injured at work) gave out
and
I fell on the floor unable to move.
I broke my left ankle in the exact same spot as the statue of Hermes.
What's worse?
My insurance sucked so bad, the ER doc they referred me to refused to see me. My insurance ended shortly after that so I went without treatment.
It healed poorly and I'm still in pain.
Turns out...
I resemble that statue now.
To be quite honest about it, I'm not really sure if I should laugh, or step up my worship game.
Today I am thankful that I have a dog and a camera system.
I'm just saddened that I let the batteries die in my camera after I broke my ankle so I didn't get a picture of the perp.
I came home Thursday, went out into the garage, and noticed a chair under the garage door opener with several feet of wire around the chair. I initially thought they were pulled off of the walls.
I don't remember having wires on the wall but to be honest, I don't pay attention.
My tools were all over the place.
Baskets were moved.
No one can get into the house. I still brace my doors with metal rods. I learned my lesson after I caught Mike's sister breaking into the house.
Still....someone managed to get into the garage.
Sigh...
Today I'm babysitting.
The young adults living here took the kiddo out to walk the dog.
I left to pick up the kiddo's favorite pizza.
When I came back, there were several feet of thick wire threaded through the top of the garage door.
Damn it!
There is very little in the garage for a thief to steal. Right now, I'm just using the garage to stage old furniture until I pay someone to haul it off.
If the thief wants some old leather and oak furniture....be my guest.
If (s)he comes into my home, the demons will come out to play. If you're gonna break into a witch's house, don't do it towards the end of summer when black candles are plentiful.
Someone doesn't know me.
(cue the cackling).
*****
Maybe I'll write about the other weirdness in my world.
There was an OBH mandated diversity class I took that tried to teach me that I'm supposed to pretend that white people are inherently racist, even if they are orphans who are said to have fathers who are African American.
I guess even those white folks married to black partners are racist, too.
Yeah - I'm buying that unlike my first house in Montbello, my bass guitars, and my huge collection of R & B music.
(That's my version of sarcasm...)
That would have flown back in the 70's. Today....not so much.
In this class, they taught about the practice of redlining, where lenders would only lend to minorities in certain zip codes. There was no mention that this practice has been illegal since 1968! If this happens to you, I'm sure a competant real estate lawyer will sue on your behalf for a percentage of the settlement.
Just take it from Sue Happy.
There were other tidbits of incomplete information. I'll type them out as I remember them.
The other thing that irritated me was the discussion of Jim Crow which was said to allow the discrimination of black people. NO....Jim Crow was the government forcing people to discriminate against black people.
Just like the government is trying to sell the stupid idea that all white folks are racist. Nothing like dividing a populace to cause trouble and keep control over everyone.
Says the white chick who pulls over when she notices the local cops searching vehicles. Yeah...if you see an old red headed chick standing by a Buick on the side of the road watching while the cops search your car, she'll answer to Siegfred. I also have a dark haired friend who does the same thing. She's white and answers to the last name of a 80's era president who was once an actor.
If we are threatened with arrest, both of us would not hesitate to sue the police department, either.
I guess our racist genes are broken.
No, we are not broken. The theory of White Fragility was probably born from the mind of a woman struggling with her racism who hasn't realized that things aren't really black and white any more.
The problem appears to be government actors who get away with discrimination!
I would say that the reason white folks don't want to talk about race too much any more is that some yahoo comes up with a theory every two or three years shaming us for giving a damn. It gets old.
My grandmother was a grand-niece of Ulysses S. Grant. Her mom was a Pentecostal minister who ministered to the newly freed slaves back in Dayton, Ohio. My grandmother and her sisters would talk of sewing clothes for the children of the former slaves so that they would feel comfortable attending church.
To be clear, people in the Pentecostal faith do not believe in color or gender.
There was a women's based abolitionist movement back in the 1800's which fought for the end of slavery.
I doubt people who write books to sell business diversity trainings care enough to know that.
In a couple of generations, most US Citizens are going to have a bit of numerous races in their genetic code.
Maybe then, we won't be black, brown, red, yellow or white. We'll get to be the human race.
I'm trying to be nice. I have a BA in Social Science, so this stuff is old hat to me. I originally aspired to get my doctorate in social science -but- when colleges stopped giving the children of professors free rides, I decided to switch majors.
I grew up with a heavy Pentecostal influence. Fighting for people is natural for me. It doesn't matter their race or gender. Justice is all that matters.
Back in the '90s, I remember having black school board members tell me that people were valued based on how light their skin was and that the darker the skin, the less they could be trusted. They were pissed at me because I tried to fight for the neighborhood children. When they couldn't argue against my points, they'd question why I cared or why I lived in an African American neighborhood.
Yeah.....I remember fighting black educators to prevent the busing of black students because they didn't perform well on CSAP tests! Rather than tutor the kiddos, they wanted to make them ride a bus an extra two hours per day!
No one wanted to talk about how racist standardized tests are, either.
I remember being told I wouldn't fit in anywhere because of my perceived parentage. I'm still kind of a lone wolf but wouldn't have it any other way now.
Yet, I'm the racist because my skin is light?
Um.....Oh my goodness, the liberals on the licensure board are flippin' insane.
It's got me reconsidering finishing the program I'm in. I'm taking a time-out. Maybe it's not the curriculum. Maybe the problem was the instructor.
She went on a rant about Trump. I can't stand Trump but, damn it, why do the liberals blame him for everything? They give him so much power! It's almost as if they're making him out to be a demi-God or something.
It's disturbing. He's JUST a man. He's a man who spent the majority of his life as a registered Democrat, too. It's strange how the idiots who complain the loudest don't know squat about politics.
She made it sound like racism wasn't a thing before Trump's presidency.
It's annoying.
If I jump back into politics, you'll know what pushed me over the edge.
I should be careful, huh....anyone who questions the primary narrative (whether or not it is based in fact or fad) gets canceled.
Boy...I can't wait for this ugly version of reality to shift......geesh!
People are starting to see that cancel culture is about pushing a narrative and stifling free speech. This is why we now have a bunch of homeless folks who lost work and housing in 2020, a destroyed economy, and people not knowing if they can trust the Covid vaccinations or mask mandates.
Now we are headed into inflation of epic proportions.
Still....no one is allowed to question the 2020 Covid narrative.
Crap -
On the bright side, it appears some politicians found those old journal articles about the gain of function studies to make the bat coronavirus more virulant. Funny thing, though, these politicians never seemed to mention that those studies began in Chapel Hill, North Carolina before being moved to Wuhan. The Republicans never mention that Obama cut the funding but Anthony Fauci kept funding those studies despite the order from the Obama administration.
What do you want to bet Anthony Fauci (or someone super close to him) has stock in a vaccine company?
Yeah - you know you're growing warmer when you're called a conspiracy theorist. Just remember.....conspiracies happen all the time and it's only a theory until it's proven.
In this case, one can offer medical journal and newspaper articles as proof.
Maybe the people in power know but don't want to admit the role of the US in the creation of the virus.
Truth is a funny thing, it will eventually reveal itself.
This will wind up being yet another scandal.
Sigh-
There are days I need to rant. I just wish ranting didn't inspire me to do stuff that pisses a bunch of people off.
I took my aunt out to lunch today. I guess I can be thankful for that.
There was a homeless guy trying to sleep in a corner by a defunct restaurant that shut down in the early days of the pandemic. Dumb politicians don't understand that the Covid meddling in business destroyed out economy and skyrocketed the numbers of our homeless population.
Enough rant for now...
The sleeping man was African American. He appeared to be in his early twenties.
All he had was a pillow and the clothes on his back - a dirty t-shirt and shorts.
While waiting for the food, I bought a bottle of water, went outside and slipped it next to the man with a $10 bill under it.
I didn't have more dough with me.
The man was breathing.
He's alive.
He didn't smell of alcohol.
I didn't wake him up.
I left and went back inside the restaurant.
One man approached me to tell me that what I did made his day.
Later, another man approached me to tell me that I was "very kind."
I didn't do anything special.
I didn't do anything they couldn't do.
People don't want to give them money because they claim they'll buy drugs.
That homeless man is living in a hell hole now.
Drugs would help him slip out of that reality.
Maybe if I can talk to him when he's awake, we can talk about options for treatment.
Right now, he's in survival mode.
****
There is a man who panhandles near the Aurora Tah Mahal (my nickname for our spectacle of a municipal building). I gave him a wad of cash (probably not much more than fifteen dollars).
He remembers me and makes it a point to say "may God bless you." when he sees me.
It's sad.
That cash probably didn't go very far.
When I carry cash, it doesn't last very long.
There is more need than I have personal funds.
****
There is a man who panhandles near a bridge on I-225.
He must've become homeless about ten days ago.
I drive past him around 6:00 a.m. every day.
Two weeks ago, he was chipper.
He was smiling.
He twirled his sign.
His clothes were clean.
As the days passed, he became less and less animated.
Five days in, his faced began to droop.
He continuously looked at the concrete.
Shortly after that, the paramedics had to evacuate the bridge under the highway. I witnessed homeless folks being loaded onto stretchers. I never found out why.
It was 100 degrees that day. I feared they were burned in the scorching heat.
I looked for him the next day.
He was okay.
This morning, I drove past him and had the good fortune to sit at a red traffic light near where he sat.
He sat there, holding his sign.
I had my $20. I tried to get his attention.
He just sat there on his bucket, staring at the ground.
The light turned green.
In a little less than two weeks, I saw the life and motivation leak out of a man leaving him just a hunk of bone with thin flesh hanging on for dear life.
We vilify these folks.
I came home and cried.
My aunt asked if I called upon anything scary to try to solve the problem.
I told her no, I hadn't been able to harass any politicians over their stupidity.
To be truthful, she was asking if I performed a black or grey magick ritual.
No - there is too much negativity with this issue. To add the wrong energy into it would just make it worse.
*****
Later in the evening,
I was giving a driving lesson to a teen as we drove past a homeless encampment.
There was a car that looked like it belonged to my friend, parked on the side of the highway with its blinkers on -
across the street from the encampment.
I exclaim "I think [my friend] is here! Can we stop?"
The driver refused to stop.
If that wasn't my friend, we have someone helping out who may need support.
The longer this goes on, the more people are going to jump into the fray.
The more push-back the politicians are going to experience.
*****
I may do a ritual or three today on the night of a new moon.
As I explained to my aunt,
when I bitch to the Divine, I'll wind up being the person giving the speeches and annoying the hell out of people making the piss-poor decisions.
If I'm really unlucky, I'll wind up being a politician again.
Today I am thankful that I learned to fight and that I'm creative about how I go about it.
Did you know that you can be arrested in Denver for talking to a homeless person?
Yeah -
If a cop asks you to stop talking and move away from the homeless peep in a public area, they'll arrest you for what I call 'contempt of cop.'
Denver was conducting an illegal homeless sweep....again.
Hey - Denver! Remember that tax hike you passed to help the homeless last November. This is what your overlords decided to do with the dough - buy more garbage trucks!
YOU PAID FOR THAT!
I have an office in Denver. I'm paying for that, too.
Know this - you can and will be arrested for failing to obey an invalid command from a police officer.
They'll call it valid.
Constitutionally, it is invalid.
It's obvious, the overlords at the City and County of Denver want to be sued.
I'm serious.
Sad, huh.
I must talk to fifteen homeless peeps a day in The City and County of Denver - on the street - near - [redacted and redacted].
Apparently, a friend of mine was arrested today for this very thing...talking with a homeless person.
So today I'm pissed off.
The asshats are running the asylum. The Dems are letting conservators run amok stealing money from elderly folks. The Dems that run the City of Denver are also stealing tents, heaters, IDs, social security cards, and belongings from homeless folks. It's illegal to dispose of the property of homeless folks. The city is also expected to give SEVEN days' notice before conducting a sweep.
Since I wasn't arrested, I can't just call up my buddies in the free press and tell them.
I wonder if Westword would run the story?
I could just point them to other evidence and see if they want to investigate.
Or maybe
I could go outside tomorrow and try my luck.
Handcuffs turn me on
(but not like that...
because.....
I'm Ace)
They turn me on because I'm Sue Happy and have demons to feed.
By demons, I mean a bunch of lawyers.
Hmmm....
I'm going to put this out in the public domain.
Hey Denver -
Wanna arrest someone for doing something right?
Let me give you a description of the perp.
She's 5'5".
In the fifth decade of life but looks much younger. She has a red afro with some white hair poking out, ruddy complexion, so white she's almost translucent and has eyes that vacillate between green and brown (depending on how pissed off she is). She's 30 pounds overweight, has a propensity to speak Latin with a mid-western accent, wears lots of witchy jewelry that has a tendency to shock anyone who dares touch it and may or may not be wearing a druid cloak.
I have a second amendment bumper sticker on my car, a no-treble window sticker, a bass guitar lanyard hanging on my rear view mirror and a Gadsen flag in the window of my '89 Buick Century. If you do surveillance, photographs of me never come in clearly (some say that is due to the spirits surrounding me but I think I just break the cameras because I was hit with an ugly stick at birth).
I'm typically seen carrying a large tote bag with water and protein bars in it.
Your perp has a propensity to carry a camera with her on her person (a trick learned way back in the 80's).
So yeah, I am daring any asshat government official that wants to arrest me for being a human being.
Do it -
you'll only get yourself attention you don't want.
It won't be hard to get some aspect of the media on board.
Hell - I'm near the point of putting together my own web board and news platform.
Just call me the StarMaker.
I'll make ya famous.
Go ahead.....
MAKE
MY
DAY
DECADE!
It'll be fun getting back in the public eye.
Too bad the politicians are too busy vilifying the homeless people for the problems they created through bad housing codes.
I'm going to head to my vehicle right now.
Come and get me -
If you arrest me, the 50+ homeless peeps I'm working on helping and those souls I visit at the sober living homes for free won't get the support they're used to getting. It could cost the taxpayers more money in the long run.
But at least, a couple of cops will get their 15 minutes.
And the City and County of Denver higher-ups can scratch their balls out of their sheer masculine prowess knowing that they really saved the community from a hazard.
I mean, Denver officials can't have people helping the homeless at their own expense because they won't be able to justify those nasty tax increases they keep begging for.
Karma's a bitch.
I feel sad for the politicians and public servants giving those orders.
Now, where did I put those keys?
I'd better go now. I'm wasting daylight!
Love ya,
S.
Edit three hours later:
There is never a cop around when you want one.
Sigh....
I had a couple of ideas today -
So, part of the problem is that Denver refuses to let me speak as I do not live in Denver county. I'm going to rent a room from a relative so I can qualify for running for office in Denver and speaking in front of the City Council.
The other idea is to see if I can recruit my musician buddies into some type of media campaign.
Let's see how this pans out....
Oh, and the U.S. Department of Justice is going after cities for criminalizing homelessness. If you have time, consider filing a complaint:
I think many of us are all to familiar with the Brittany Spears saga and the financial abuse she has suffered at the hands of her father who has taken over as her conservator.
This man dictates Britany's life, right down to the color she can paint her kitchen. He also uses her financial stability as his personal piggy bank.
I had a dear friend whose brother was a political activist. An opposing political camp applied for conservatorship over his estate claiming him crazy.
He killed himself rather than lose his freedom.
I'm no stranger to the abuses of conservatorship. I've spent many years training to spot it -and- I've developed relationships with people working in the regulatory agencies preventing those abuses.
As someone who specialized in working with older folks, I had to learn how to spot it.
a conservator threatened to sue me if I dare told a soul anything about what was going on. I don't know the guy. I really didn't think I'd ever have to talk to him.
But threatening me was a huge red flag. Someone is doing something wrong.
To be honest, I didn't think his disabled client was being robbed.
Threats have to emanate from something.
A guilty conscience, perhaps?
I giggled at the threat.
I didn't mean to laugh.
It was funny.
Luckily, I was wearing a mask. He didn't see my smirk.
In another world, my nickname is Sue Happy.
He repeated his threat.
I laughed again as an automatic reaction. I had to stop short of singing a chorus of Danny Elfman-like circular Ooohs.
"Uh---uh-uh-uh-uh-ooooh-eew-ew-u-eh-oooooo...."
(Man I can't type that. I should probably just record it.)
I leaned closer.....locking eyes...softly saying "You'll change your mind when you Google me. Besides, I'm a mandated reporter."
Now, I have to call my attorney to see if I have 24 hours to report. I'll see if I can call in a couple of political favors for the disabled person, too. I can't tell the guy's story but I can get a couple of names of people passionate about ending the abuses of guardianship.
Idiots!
Don't threaten someone before you Google her.
Geesh!
Ugh....I'm trying to behave.
My black candles are still whole. Man....people like that make me yearn for the smell of sulfur.
Funny thing -
I wanted to sing.....
This would be my love song to justice. I don't pursue men. I pursue justice.With the commies in control, justice is getting harder to come by.
"I used to eat people like you for breakfast."
I'm getting fat eating the granola.
Maybe it's time for a change.
Let's unleash that big ass tornado.
*****
Now considering frightened neighbors,
this is the second time I've been threatened in the past 48 hours.
Some jacknut with a fro wearing a Deadpool T-shirt damaged a home, a car and threw trash all over a neighbor's yard. He was screaming "give me my wife back!" and punching holes in the window of the house and the windshield of an SUV.
I called the police and described the assailant. I uttered, "he has hair just like mine. It's a shoulder length afro."
Then the dispatcher asks if the man was black or Hispanic. I heard myself saying the weirdest thing -
"I'm Caucasian. White people have fros, too!"
Then after an hour, the trippy dude with the bad hair and cool t-shirt started messing around with my property.
Um.....'lil dude doesn't know what he's messing with here. Don't mess with a wicked witch's rosemary.
He'd best not come back.
The police are the least of his worries right now.
Idiot!
Oh, and apparently, I was caught cursing an asshat harassing a gay guy. I don't remember doing that but someone said they saw and heard me. Must've been instinctual.
I don't remember doing that.
It's so damn hard to play nice when surrounded by idiots.
My subconscious mind is meaner than I am!
***
I keep running into the same issues but with different victims.
That usually means the universe wants me to get off my fat ass.
I guess it's time to exercise by taking down asshats. That's less fattening.
Shit, now I have to spend my Monday on the phone.
Here is a helpful life tip - if you're breaking the law and want to keep it under wraps, don't threaten someone if you're afraid they're going to figure it out. You'll just let the cat out of the bag sooner.
And when that happens, you'll get to rock out to the song of pissed off cat.
Enjoy it -
Guard your eyes or you'll wind up looking like Nick Fury.
Today I am thankful that a blast from the past ex-boyfriend is no longer dying in my dreams.
Nope -
this is a good thing.
For the past week or so,
I've been dreaming that I get impaled in my car and die when first responders dry to get me out.
To be sure,
that is a far better thing to dream about than another human being dying.
Funny thing, in the dreams, I'm wasting my last breath screaming at the other driver for being a moron.
Wow....road raging until the day I die.
Boy - my dream self sure likes to lay the guilt thick, doesn't she?
Oooh.....
Well, at least I'm not cursing the poor soul.
*****
The dreams are possibly indicative of my anxiety about teaching three kids how to drive.
They've inspired me to control what I can control.
I wear my seatbelt now.
Just in case -
I'll wear clean underwear
(although I'm not sure it'll matter if I scare myself),
bring my driver's license with me
(so the paramedics can identify my body because I think that's why driver's license photos are made to look so bad - so paramedics know what we look like after we kick the bucket),
keep my phone next to me for any final goodbyes
(and give my loved ones stuff to talk about in therapy so a colleague can make some money),
and
look presentable when I go out so the undertaker will know what I look like-,
(so they know people are used to me in makeup that doesn't match my skin).
Just teasing.
Love ya,
S.
If these by chance are premonitions -
I want my basses to go to my buddy Sean -
or maybe my niece (she's a great bass player),
or my old friend Galan.
Hell, they can each pick one.
The guitars can go to my granddaughter.
Don't know any other sax players, though - hmmm.....maybe I best fix 'em up so they can go to a public school in good working order. I should always keep the pads in good order anyway.
Who cares about my house and all that equity? Someone could buy a heck of a lot of guitars with all that equity.
The sale of my car could fund a set of strings. That sucker is older than my kiddos but it still runs like a champ.
It's funny what I value compared to what my kids will value.
Guess, I should put together a will, eh?
I'm a geezette. I guess it's time for a will anyway.
Actually, I think I found my love. His name is Charlie.
Could it be that I need a new love? Maybe its time for a Steinberger named Jared.
So today I'm thankful for knee jerk reactions; you know, those tiny subconscious reactions that keep us from dying.
I did stupid stuff that could have caused me to bite the dust a couple of times today
It was weird.
I'm not feeling very well. It's hard for me to breathe.
This morning, I felt sick to my stomach.
Now, because I run into a large number of hungry, homeless folks...
I always carry water and protein bars on my person.
I don't eat the protein bars anymore due to the fat content.
I just give them out to hungry folks.
Needless to say, there are stashes of food and water in both of the offices in which I see clients.
Yep, my recording studio is now my Covid office for teletherapy appointments. I hate working from home. I'd rather work from one of my offices -but- I have crappy internet in the Centennial office and they kick me out of the other one in at 3:00 p.m.
So, if someone wants to do a telehealth visit with me after 3:00, it has to be in the recording studio. I don't keep food there because I'd just stuff my face with it.
Anyway,
I always buy the healthy bars with the most protein in it. Since I never plan on eating it, I don't look at the ingredients. I do buy several different kinds and put them in a tray on one of my bookshelves (or cabinet, depending on the location).
Today, I was hungry and sick. I grabbed what was supposedly a blueberry almond protein bar from Nature Valley and took a bite before promptly spitting it out
It was too late....
my throat started to swell....
and I scratched my arms, my neck and my torso so much
that a patient asked if I was okay.
Of course, being the lying wimp I am because I didn't want him to worry....I said, "I'm fine."
I think he knew better.
He offered to reschedule for tomorrow.
Upon walking him to the elevators, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirrored surface.
Yeah - I wasn't alright.
(Here is a life lesson: Never lie to people recovering from addiction, they'll notice - and they are often too kind to say anything. Most people I've met in this realm worry so much about other people, their needs go unmet. I wonder if the stigma would be lessened if the truth about this population would be more universally known.)
You probably guessed it, that blueberry almond protein bar had peanuts in it.
That was at 7:00 this morning. I'm still having trouble breathing.
Tomorrow, I'm packing Benadryl.
Tonight, I'll find a way to bathe in it.
*****
As if that is not enough,
I got lost on my way home.
I'm probably the only Denver native who gets lost 15 minutes from her house trying to avoid traffic jams.
There was a thought that I needed to get a white board and paper for one of the offices, so I pulled off into a Walmart with a lower level parking garage.
I get out of the car, struggling with my stupid cast. I hobble over to the elevators to learn that they are broken.
At this point, I wind up hopping up two flights of stairs to get to the main level.
BIG MISTAKE!
I didn't buy very much -
just a stash of candles,
some paper,
a small clock for the office,
two inspirational signs,
a new ankle brace because mine is starting to wear out,
some ibuprofen (for my swollen ankle),
and Benadryl (for encounters with peanuts),
fake pizza (with a cauliflower crust) for me,
real pizza and breadsticks for the teenagers,
and some water for the patients.
After paying for everything,
I learn that Denver has instituted a .10 cent tax on plastic bags
That's what the receipt says....a TAX...which is ILLEGAL in Colorado as lawmakers cannot institute a tax without a vote of the people. Stores are not supposed to charge for bags when people purchase medications. I think the spirit of the crappy law would make it illegal to charge for bags carrying medical supplies. I'll double check that one.
My ten cent plastic shitty bag broke before I left the check out lane.
I take my sweater off and wrap everything up in my sweater.
Yeah, only this weirdo wears a sweater on July 7 in Denver.
I'm trying to walk down the two flights of stairs with my stuff in hand.
I FALL!!!!
Miraculously, I caught myself quickly before I hit the bottom. Somehow my injured ankle didn't get twisted. Both my knees, my hips and my arms hurt, though.
Best of all...
NO ONE SAW ME!
Man, if I had fallen to the point of being bedridden, guess who would have fun putting together a ballot initiative to mess with an illegal tax?
I've got some investigating to do.
Yeah, I know Colorado lawmakers are calling it a fee - but - uh, that's not what businesses are calling it.
Too bad the political establishment railroaded Douglas Bruce. He would know exactly what to do.
The problem with knocking down one man is that ten other foes will replace him.
Lawmakers will soon reap what they sow.
I can't imagine what Denver is going to do when their sales tax revenue starts to dwindle. Other counties are going to take their time instituting this tax, so people who can drive will wind up driving to the next jurisdiction to make taxable purchases. Like I predicted nearly twelve years ago when the Democrats first started this shit, the only people stuck are elderly folks and impoverished people who cannot drive. They are just paying another regressive tax.
I kinda wonder who the fabric bag manufacturer is that is pushing these laws.
Come one....it's not about reducing waste because it's just going to lead to more online ordering and boxes. It's a way for someone to make money. We just don't know who that someone is - yet.
Today I am thankful for the realization that I'm slacking off.
I've been busy cleaning up my life and habitat.
Maybe I'm focusing on the wrong things.
Not ONE of my friends has received the extremist Facebook warning after leaving a comment for me.
I don't get one from any of them.
Crap - I'm upset!
I'm a libertarian,
gun nut,
pagan who worships Ares,
even a hypnotist.
I've been told that I'm on a government watch list.
I'm proud of my obnoxiousness.
I even spent yesterday in Wyoming watching fireworks and getting pro-gun bumper stickers, saddle blankets, and all sorts of stuff to remind me of my western upbringing.
I don't feel like an extremist in Cheyenne.
I'm only an extremist in Denver.
Do you know why?
The definition of extremist has been morphed. It now means 'any person who disagrees with the majority group in power.'
Since communist-type liberals have taken over the capitol in Colorado, I'm an extremist.
It won't last. Political trends change with the tides. Now, the socialists hate people like me.
Tomorrow, the conservative peeping-Toms will hate me.
Such is the life of a libertarian.
Besides, I think many politicians hate me because I know they created this housing crisis that had left scores homeless.
They don't want to look at how their housing codes led to this mess.
It's so much easier to blame homeless folks.
Right now, I'm busying myself trying to get them off the street. I can only do one person at a time.
The government can churn out poverty at an exponential rate.
It's a losing battle.
When people ask why, all I can think about is the Starfish story.
'
But still
I'm a little upset.
Facebook....
[sniffle]
hurt my feelings.
If you know me, one of my favorite sayings is
'there is no such thing as failure, only feedback.'
In its own sick way, I guess one could say that Facebook is inspiring my extremism - and possibly the extremism of countless others,
Today I'm thankful that I have my very first Friday night free in many years. I chose to spend it with my first love - bass guitars..
Someone stepped on my Arcadia CD.
My kids must have gotten sick of listening to it.
I had nothing to listen to (without YouTube Ads). I wore out that cassette years ago.
I resemble Lady Ice.
Maybe I wasn't always that way.....
Man -
I had to dig out my old music
I listened to an old '80s mixtape. There was a lot of Jeffrey Osborne on it, some Luther Vandross, a bit of Klymaxx, Alexander O'Neal, Chaka Khan, and Rufus, Freddie Jackson, Prince....sigh.....
Oh my.....
no wonder I scared off the 80's boyfriend.
I probably scorched the poor guy.
Maybe that's what the nightmares are about....guilt over being a pervert and condemning a nice Christian boy to his nightmarish version of the underworld in the afterlife.
I don't know.
If I knew, the nightmares would stop.
*****
As a single mom, I work too much.
Now, I have a job with normal-ish hours and a livable wage, most of my weekends are free.
If I could walk, I'd spend Friday nights at the local art fair - but
I cannot.
So, I stayed home and busied myself the only way I knew how.
At some point in the evening, I decided to work out because when I don't exercise I feel blah....
Now, I don't feel blah - I feel like the doctors were right when they diagnosed me with fibromyalgia back in '98.
I'm writing for a purpose -
DON'T WORK OUT YOUR LEGS WITH A FRACTURED ANKLE.
Stay off the elliptical, don't mess with the home gym and, for the love of your Diety, stay off of the Hallway Horse (don't know what it's really called but one of the guys at the city called it a "hallway horse" but I think it is some sort of a cross-trainer that works the abs, arms, and legs...I got it one year for Christmas way back in the 90's when my sister was making fun of my weight).
At least I knew to stay off of my exercise bike - lol!
Between that and slappin' Charlie - my right wrist and elbow hurt. So do both of my knees and my swollen ankle.
It's Ibuprofen city for me today.
(Maybe I've gotta work on that slappin' technique or stay off the Hallway Horse....never hurt like this before....hmmmm)
The kids want me to take them hiking up in the hills for the next three days.
This is gonna get interesting.
Um - if you see a chunky redheaded lady hanging out in the parking lot of a Colorado National Park wearing a brace on her left leg...
