New Material for the Dreams (w/ edit)

 

Today I am thankful for fictional dreams. 

At least I hope they're fictional. 

I'm an INFJ.  As an INFJ, I have the weirdest habit of dreaming of lovers before I meet them. 

It's always been this way.  

I got my first marriage proposal at fourteen from a friend of mine who was five years older than I. My parents had just died and he knew I was going to move away.  He didn't want to lose me. 

I turned him down.  He got so upset, he ran off to the military. 

We were both hyper-religious.  There was no funky business. 

I never touched him because I never dreamt of him.  

I dreamt of someone else who I met a couple of years later. 

Now, if I know who I'm going to....well...you know,  I don't really hold back. 

Kinda makes me wonder if the few guys in my past thought I was a slut. 

If I don't dream of you in advance, I won't touch you. 

Weird, eh? 

This is probably why I've been celibate for many years (more than seven now). 

The guy I previously had disturbing dreams of.......

well....

let's just say....

if he and I were the last two people on the planet...

it would be curtains for the human race. 

*****

I kinda like the new Bay Laurel tree. 

I still put leaves under my pillow 

but now I dream of someone else. 

For the past five days, 

I've dreamt of a guy I don't know. 

I see the blue sedan he drives. 

I know his full name as I saw it on his driver's license in a dream.  

It's a common name.  I literally know four guys with that exact name.  One is a happily married former boss. 

None of these guys look like the person in the dreams.  

The dreams say he is born in October (what else is new for me....sigh....) 

I meet him at a convention but don't know if it's an addiction counselor convention, a nerd convention, a hypnotist convention or a libertarian activist convention. 

The dreams are far too detailed. 

He's tall.  He's blond.  Wears his hair super short.  He's a tad bit younger than me (usually I turn 'em down in they're five years younger than I am). 

He works with computers.  He likes button up shirts and wears a pen protector (yes, I like nerds....sue me). 

He's not very good at woodworking (luckily, that's something I excel in). 

He lives in an area that I avoid like the plague.  Now, I'll probably continue to avoid it. 

If this guy is real, it seems like a perfect match.   

If not, at least I don't wake up creeped out anymore. 

The nice thing is that the freaked out face I woke up with previously after dreaming of an ex gave me wrinkles around my mouth, nose and eyes. 

The wrinkles are GONE! 

Life is beautiful. 

******

For the most part it is beautiful.....

My boss keeps commenting about my hair.   

I have curly red hair that reaches my mid-back.  The older I get, the lighter my hair.  I've learned to define the curls. I try to darken my hair too much with black dye.  It takes too much time.  I've gotta stop doing that. 

I will not straighten my hair.   It's a complete waste of time.  I had a salon do that for me once when I gave my first speech in a political arena.  It cost $60 to straighten my hair.  The heat lightened the color and my hair was so long it touched my waist.  I must've looked hot because I got so many requests to go out to dinner (but I was married and I wore a big white sapphire on my left hand....seriously???) 

The moment I went outside, it started to rain and I had my curls back. 

No - I'm not straightening my hair. 

There are redheads who are trying to become a protected class due to the workplace discrimination.  I don't know how I feel about that. 

They site things like "Kick a Ginger Day" as a reason to get that protection.

That is celebrated November 20th.  

Trust me, if you kick me you're gonna go to the hospital.  

I may or may not send you flowers out of guilt. 

Just sayin' 

The same gene that gives us our hair, keeps us from aging.  People say I look like I'm in my late thirties. 

I'm 51.  

It is awkward when young guys ask me out.  

Maybe I should give up and become a cougar?

Maybe not. 

I think I have to be wealthy to become a cougar. 

Most of my money goes to charity so I'd have nothing to spoil a younger man with. 

The truth hurts. 

Getting back to my hair, I don't know how to take the criticism. 

I have a lot of straight wigs but I'm the kind of person who would wear it, dance with it unsecured and have it fly off my head. 

I'm not much of a fake person.  

When I was a teen model, I wore press on fingernails and tried to show off my bass prowess to a cute guy. 

The pink plastic talons flew off in his face. 

I cannot fake beauty well.  

Maybe I should wear a wig tomorrow to see what she says?  

I have one of those Ariana Grande ponytail falls.  I guess I could wear that. 

Discrimination is probably why I started my own business in the first place. 

Sigh - 

If I meet a guy named Michael who is seven years younger than I at a convention, he's gonna get lucky. 

If not - 

well at least I'll keep my youthful glow and save money on wrinkle cream. 

As always, I wish that your happy dreams come true. 

And if you meet me and my hair is straight and reaches my behind, tug on my hair - 

you'll wind up holding it! 

Love ya, 

S. 

Edit 2.28.21 

Well - this person actually exists and he wants to get to know me better.  Thankfully, he lives too far away so I don't have to worry about it going too far. 

Wow.....\

I don't have a good track record with people named Michael so I doubt much of anything will happen there. 

The world is bizarre. 

The Bay Leaves Stopped Working

 

Today I am thankful that I've gotten some sleep.  

I'm just not happy about the content of my dreams.  

Perhaps my subconscious mind is insane. 

Or it could be perverted. 

It's probably just telling me to find a boyfriend. 

So - 

The witches of old believed that if you put five bay leaves under your pillow you'll dream of your next lover.  Well I heard this from an elderly relative, back then, it was more you'll dream of your future spouse.  

Either way - you'd dream of a future intimate. 

I'm asexual. 

So, I put five bay leaves under my pillow and emerged the next morning smelling like stew and excited that I had absolutely NO DREAMS! 

I was very happy! 

That means I'll be FREE for the rest of my life! 

I did this every night until I ran out of bay leaves. 

I bought a bay laurel tree the other day (found one at a local nursery). 

They smell very good. 

The tree sits on my nightstand. 

Well - 

Either the bay leaves are defective or .....

(I can't even type it.) 

Sigh....

Long story short. 

I dreamt of a guy. 

It's a guy I have actually met. 

We were once very close, too. 

It's a guy I've struggled with nightmares about for over thirty years. 

At least this time, he's not ill 

or drunk 

or dying 

or losing limbs

or getting bitten by angry wolves 

or flattened by a semi 

or bleeding after being ambushed by Cupid with a bunch of golden arrows 

or whatever the nightmare of the week might be. 

Some of the nightmares are so bad, I'd wake up screaming "Oh no! [Name]"

After it went on for awhile, I started to pretend to sing a song with name in it. 

No one bought that I was dreaming about being Getty Lee. 

So - 

I decided to give up dating unless I can find a guy with that name. 

All the guys I know with that name are politicians. 

I'm not into politicians. 

So - 

I decided to focus on my work. 

The dreams don't stop. 

*****

Well, they stopped for awhile when I started sleeping with bay leaves which are kinda itchy and not really a lot of fun when they migrate from under your pillow. 

Last night - 

It was a nightmare for me. 

Basically it was someone trying to engage in an act of physical intimacy in a vehicle and I say 

"Why in the heck would you want to do that?" 

The dream gets worse before I wake up. 

Usually, in the dreams, I run off like a wild banshee. 

In this one, I didn't. 

Weird. 

So - 

I toyed with the idea of buying a bass to name after this guy and pretend that I dreamt up a new bassline with the bass. 

I initially decided against that because I only name my basses after respectable assholes (assholes I respect on some basic level).  This guy wasn't an asshole.  He just doesn't like me.  

So - 

I don't know. 

After the dream last night - I may have to just buy a bass and name it after him. 

I'd just be embarrassed at the kind of basslines those dreams would inspire. 

Man - 

I'd look for a boyfriend to fix my nocturnal world - but- I only find them when I'm not looking. 

Besides, 

I've fixed my life up so that I only meet guys at the gas station or when my car is immobile on the side of a highway. 

Maybe I'm just not busy enough. 

Or maybe it's almost Mercury Retrograde.  I always dream of him during Mercury Retrograde. 

Ugh....

I may just get a male cat and if anyone hears me screaming out that name in the middle of the night, I'll tell them I dreamt about the cat. 

Maybe that'll work. 

I don't know about me. 

You? 

I hope all your dreams are sweet and that you save the bay leaves for your soup. 

Love ya lots, 

S. 

Three Hours of Hell and Nine Angels

 

Today I am thankful for the kindness of average people. 

Yeah - 

On my way to work today, someone lost a wheel (not a tire) but the metal wheel.  

It wound up in front of my car.  I had to choice but to hit it (or else I would have hit two elderly women in a small silver car). 

My front driver side tire blew and I managed to move to a small median between two on-ramps of the highway. 

It was approximately 1530. 

It took a few minutes to call my boss.  She covered my shift. It was sad because I looked forward to teaching a class.  A colleague's birthday present was in my car and I so looked forward to seeing her glow when she got it. 

Bummer - 

Truth be told, I have been a nervous wreck since I stopped sleeping last summer.  Now, with all the death in my life and invented crises of a narcissistic ex, I feel like I am losing my mind. 

Meditation helps somewhat.  

I know I'm a wreck when I lose everything.  In the past couple of weeks, I've misplaced my keys, the office keys, my wallet, my credit cards and even my phone. 

When I feel lost all my stuff gets lost. 

I sat in the car trying not to cry. 

There may have been a panic attack.  Yeah, I can ground myself but I still feel as if I'm having an asthma attack when things get ultra scary.  

I got out of the car to get my spare tire and jack from the trunk.

This is when I lost my mask. 

Sigh - 

After about twenty minutes, I met the first angel.  He had a biblical name (not gonna type it but it is the name of the one who went into the Lion's Den).

He parked behind me to protect me from the traffic and grabbed the spare tire from me and jacked the car up.  He was kind, conservative and worried about me.  He said that angels must be watching out for me because he had a feeling he should go this route and stop to help.

Yeah, I was terrified because I was stuck in a very busy place. 

He got the decimated tire off but the car was so low to the ground that the spare couldn't role into the proper spot.  The man tried to lift the car further but the little jack crumbled and the car fell.  I was terrified that he'd be hurt. 

No.  He thankfully positioned himself away from the car.  

Now, the driveline was touching the street.  There was no way to get the jack where it needed to be. 

The man offered me money to pay for a tow truck.  I told him I'd be okay.  Besides, the Democrats just sent me $600 that I didn't need.  I'll use that to get towed.  

He corrected me.  No, they've sent $2,000. 

Wow....

We bid each other farewell and I got back into the car. 

Ten minutes later, a woman with CDOT parked behind me.  I'm still in the same place, stuck between the crossroads - two lanes of cars getting onto southbound 225 and one getting on to northbound 225. 

She offers her assistance.  I try to socially distance from her explaining that I lost my mask. She told me not to worry, she had the vaccine.  She has a better jack but due to the high traffic, she wouldn't feel safe trying to change a tire. 

I agreed.  It would be better if I called a tow truck.  She stayed with me about five minutes until I was able to reach someone. 

I still had three hours of this nightmare to go. 

The tow truck was supposed to arrive in 45 minutes.  

I set to sewing a mask.  I found an old cloth used to clean eyeglasses and cut the strap off of my purse.  I had it made in no time.  It was ugly but it did the trick. 

While I was sewing: three men and two young women each stopped separately to ask if I needed help.  I got out of the car and thanked them telling them that I was waiting for tow truck.  

There is hope for humanity. 

Another hour passed. 

Two firefighters stopped and offered help.  They were concerned that I could be hit.  I assured them that the tow truck driver was on his way after a little wrangling, the young firefighters left. 

I waited.  The tow truck driver called but the connection was bad.  We couldn't hear each other.  He said he'd call back.  

After about a half of an hour, I received a text message stating that the issue was completed and he was able to start my car. 

I called roadside assistance and told them that I was still stuck on the on-ramp. 

They said that they'd send another tow truck. 

I waited about ten minutes.  At this point, I had been with my car for three and a half hours. 

Two police officers came by.  They received a report of a woman stuck on the highway and ask if I saw her. 

I saw a woman but she wasn't stuck on the highway, she was walking by a hotel on private property.  Perhaps the caller was referencing me? 

They threatened to tow my car to the impound lot.  I showed them the texts and the calls to roadside assistance and the two tow truck companies. 

The officer didn't want me to be hurt and it was a miracle my car wasn't hit.  The way he said it made me realize that he saw me as a little old lady. Truth be told, he was probably younger than my kids.

The officer called for a tow truck anyway.  

At this moment, the tow truck driver arrives and decides he can have my car lifted and put on the spare. 

The officers position their cars to shield the tow truck driver.  In five minutes, the job is done.  They refuse money. 

Shaken, I drove to a parking lot to collect myself before driving home.  My feet and hands were cold.  I was so thirsty that I felt faint. 

There was a call from the insurance company.  The first tow truck driver said that he had gone to a clinic just feet from the freeway.  I could see the clinic from my car.  He said he helped someone in a Buick start her car. 

I wondered - could this have been an answer to a prayer? 

For weeks, I've been wondering how I can be useful to the Divine. 

The prayer is literally that line from a song "However do you want me.  However do you need me?"

I need to be careful with that.  This wasn't so safe.  I think Divinity has a sense of humor.  Maybe I should ask to help others in a way that is safe, less freakish and won't be inconvenient to my boss and colleagues.  

Maybe that woman needed help.  She got it.  It was free because of my insurance policy. 

(I'd hate to think the tow truck driver lied). 

Wow - 

Oh, and the place where my car landed was just feet from the area where the homeless live.  I just couldn't cross the six lanes of speeding traffic to visit with them. 

Maybe I was where I needed to be. 

I took a lot of pictures.  I got a picture of the sunset over the mountains.  I got a picture of my Buick with a decimated front end.   I almost took a picture of a sign that read "Homeless - need shelter." 

I was afraid to get out of the car to get a good shot. 

Maybe I'll come back and add to this post if I can come up with some more insight. 

Please be safe and take care of yourself. 

****

There was one amazing lesson. 

I never have time to answer my phone. 

In that car, I did. 

It's surprising what happens when you make yourself available. 

People reached out to me with the most amazing things. 

Someone asked if I was interested in a job just perfect for someone I know who lost hers. 

She is the one filling in for me tonight.  I sent it to her. 

There has to be a way for me to get better about answering my phone without disrupting my patients. 

******
This writing probably makes no sense.  I'm going to have to sleep early so I can wake up and drive my car with one little donut to my mechanic to have it serviced. 

I'll be lucky if I still have a job tomorrow. 

If not, I think it's because I've been called to help the homeless. 

May you find your niche and be happy and fulfilled. 

Love ya lots, 

S. 

Edit two days later: 

I realized that I did not add the two police officers to the number of rescuers I had.  That means ELEVEN people did what they could to try to help me - despite Covid. 

In Aurora, employees can be fined for just about anything.  I wrote to the office to ask if I could send a couple of Starbucks gift cards to the officers and was told there were rules against that.  I don't want them illegally fined and harassed. 

They just got a nice email to put in their files. 

Sigh - 

My car is going to the shop today. 

Despite the pictures, my boss doesn't seem to believe that this happened.  There was an ambush meeting with vague concerns about my "low energy", that I "don't fit in" as well as my desire to help homeless addicts.  I wanted to take a volunteer opportunity to build a current list of resources to share with the Case Manager and my friend who runs the homeless non-profit. 

To be sure, there are some ethical problems with the company.  Nothing reportable but concerning.  There are things going on that could potentially lead to grievances or lawsuits down the road.  I figured it was because everyone was new and it was a training issue. 

It's probably that I like to honor state law.  If I don't like a law, I'll work to change it. 

Not everyone is a rule follower.  For the past few months, there was pressure for me to work an additional 16-20 hours per week as an intern at no pay even though I'm a full-time hourly employee.  This would be training that I was promised prior to my goal of getting my addiction license.  Now that they believe they can train me and put to me to work at no cost, the training was taken away.

I'm trying to warn my boss that this is not legal anymore due to changes in the tax code and urged my boss to check in the the State wage and hour department. 

I will not do anything that will put me in a position of power of another entity.  This would give me cause to sue for back pay and overtime.  It's unethical to do this knowing what I know.  The safest thing to do is to seek a practicum/internship elsewhere to avoid that power dynamic.  

Besides her vague concerns about "my energy" are my cue to exit.  What my boss claims is "low energy" others see as "calm energy" (which keeps unstable patients from raging from long periods of time in my presence). 

Just know - if a manager gives you vague concerns and refuses to answer questions requesting specifics or to give you a game plan for improving, this person is either a bully or has a personal issue with you. 

As someone who used to run a Workplace Bully website, I want to let you know that when this happens you have a 77% chance of being fired or forced to quit.  You only have a 5% chance of staying in your position.  There is a higher likelihood that you'll be demoted or punished.  If your company is benevolent and rare, you may be offered a transfer to another department. 

The best course of action is to simply polish up your resume and exit stage left. 

((( Hugs ))) 

S. 

Edit three days later: 

Well, my car suffered $1,400 worth of damage.  It wasn't safe to drive (yet I drove it anyway).  The brakes were damaged as was the suspension.  I'm stuck with Uber for the next few days. 

My boss called me in her office.  I got a raise (gonna need it) and she gave me an idea to help the homeless while keeping my job. 

I'm a little confused.  I thought I was Debbie Downer. 

Maybe she just had a bad day.  It happens to the best of us. 

I'll try to keep an open mind. 

Love ya, 

S. 

  

Another Day Another Confusing Dream

Today I am thankful for more insight from a nurse. 

She spoke about ministry and how she helped people find their faith in desperate times of distress. 

I thought about her story as I fell asleep. 

This morning there was another ice dream. 

Sort of - 

I was in the same place. 

There was writing. 

There was no ice, 

only writing in the sky. 

The writing was so quick and fast paced that the letters seemed to pile up on each other. 

I could make out the words 

 "call ?" 

"visit ?" 

"noon" 

"tomorrow" 

I awaken wondering what I forgot to put on my calendar

and where I'm supposed to be. 

I'll figure it out tomorrow afternoon.

This ought to be interesting. 

The nurse helped me to feel better about my guilt of buying stuff for the homeless, donations for the facility in which I work and the sneaky gifts that show up for my coworkers on their birthdays from the staff (which I hope she doesn't know I have anything to do with that.) 

This nurse used to do the exact same thing when we worked together at a different facility.  I thought it was a company tradition and wanted to keep it going.*

It took about twelve hours but by morning I finally realize why she does what she does. 

Every person is a gift from the divine and, as such, they are to be celebrated. 

I am incredibly lucky to have been surrounded by living angels while on this plane of existence. 

Someone once told me to write a story about my life due to the alleged trauma.  To me, it really wasn't all that traumatic.  I have been surrounded by beautiful, kind souls my entire life from the Spanish speaking janitor at school who lived next door and made sure my sister and I were safe, to the people at the Baptist church who would give bread to my mother in exchange for taking my sister and I to camp for a weekend to avoid the abuse, the teacher who drove me from my foster home to school every day so I didn't go to a rough school, they adorable boy who bought me vitamins and protein powder so I didn't die of anorexia, the gay man who co-signed an apartment for me and insisted that I finish high school, the homeless people who helped me navigate a tough part of town when I was young and naïve, the guy who gave me money to use the payphone after I was assaulted and so many more. I could go on forever but there are so many beautiful souls and acts of kindness.  

One thing is for sure angels abound. 

They make the bad times much easier to endure.  

Children learn what they live.  Perhaps that is why I am so keen to pay it forward.  

Maybe it is just because I owe so much to the world. 

May you be so lucky,

S. 

 *I think people are realizing are from me....I put a jar stuffed with money and gift cards in the cabinet at work and tell the boss and colleagues that those are contributions towards celebratory gifts/cards for staff.  I've noticed that other people are beginning to fill the jar on their own.  I'll never touch that money but someone will eventually need it.  When I was hired I promised the interviewer that I would celebrate each birthday/special event.  The interviewer now works for the governing body over rehab centers but I'm a person of my word.  The work they do is soul crushing and draining.  It's good to lift them up. 

They may need a bigger jar. :) 

Next Day Edit: 

It turned out to be a noon meeting with a lawyer. 

How funny is that? 

Edit two days later: 

Well - I did have unexpected visitors as I headed out the door on Tuesday afternoon.  Good thing I cleaned the house! 

Maybe dreams are useful. 

((( hugs ))) 

S. 

Hugs, 

S. 

An Explanation for Traumatic Nightmares

 Today I am thankful for my dearly departed colleague, Richard. 

I think he cured me yet again but wish he didn't have to die to do it. 

Richard probably saved my life twice in the two years we knew each other. 

I'm highly allergic to a lot of things.  

One time, I had to clean out a dirty vehicle with a filthy dog and a ton of used hypodermic needles.  Richard noticed that I started to swell so he gave me Benadryl. 

Yeah, I'm allergic to dogs and dust. 

There was this time I bought a smoothie that had banana in it.  Yep, I'm highly allergic to bananas.  Being the great nurse he was, he gave me two pink pills that kept me breathing. 

For several months, I had dreams of a tall man burned to death in the mountains.  When I learned an old friend lived up there, who just happened to be tall and have the same color of eyes, I freaked out to the point of reaching out to see if he were okay. 

He's okay. 

About two months after the dreams became persistent, Richard self-immolated up in the mountains. 

The dreams continued nightly until his body was identified three weeks after his death.  I cried my heart out on my way to work, on my way home from work, in the bathroom at work and when I tried to sleep. 

In fact, I'll find myself reminiscing about him at work before realizing he's gone.  Then I come home and cry. 

After a couple of weeks of bawling my eyes out, the dreams stopped. 

Richard and I worked with a beautiful nurse. She's awesome.  She reads everything.  I had a tumor in my liver and had a little pain at work (well, a lot of pain). I told her.  Within days the entire tumor was gone as per an ultrasound.   

I figured she prayed for me.  Sure enough, she did.  

She often gives me the titles of books that she thinks will help me in my studies. 

Today we talked about trauma.  She said that people will dream of childhood traumas until they resolve them. 

In the dreams of Richard, I could smell the burned hair and flesh.  I know what it smelled like because at the age of five or six, I was witness to a fire where a little old lady's home burned down.  Every time I'm in the area, I drive past what used to be her porch and the stairs that led to it.  The stairs now lead to a parking lot of a warehouse. 

I remember that.  I remember the ash in the air.  I remember the smell.  I remember my future step-father and uncle fighting the fire. 

I'm going to buy the book she gleaned that information from. 

I wonder if crying over Richard helped me process the trauma of that fire. 

It would have been better if he were still here.  I wouldn't mind the dreams so much if no one actually died. 

*****

Now, there are other nightmares.  No one dies.  

The dreams are either about forbidden stuff that would possibly hurt a lot of people. 

Or of my being super-embarrassed. 

Some silly old lady ran out of bay leaves.  

Bay leaves when placed under your pillow are supposed to give you dreams of your future lover. 

I've found that when there are bay leaves under my pillow - I have NO DREAMS (meaning no nightmares). 

Sleep is wonderful. 

But - 

I'm out of bay leaves. 

There was a dream.  

In this dream, a certain individual (who will go undescribed) visits my home unannounced.  

My home is filthy.  

The only thing in my fridge to drink is kombucha. 

It's sad because he brings a yellow dog. 

 

My dog is having fun sniffing the other dog's you know what and the poor yellow dog is trying to sit in it's owners lap to avoid the invasive sniffing of my ill mannered dog.  

.  I'm running around cleaning up the house out of fear the doggos will chew on something that'll make them sick. 

I'm not wearing make-up, have an uncombed red 'fro (I call the look "bozo hair") and am wearing my pajamas (which is just a slip - the thing old ladies wear under their dresses). 

I wake up and go to work only to go home and find that my house is filthy and that there is a lot of broccoli and kombucha in the fridge. 

That's a nightmare of a different sort. 

No one died - 

well, I possibly died of embarrassment. 

I wonder if Penzey's Spices is open on Sunday? 

I need bay leaves now. 

Sigh - 

Maybe I should just stay home and clean my house. 

May all your dreams be sweet and may the best ones come true, 

S. 

The Lines Between Reality and Fiction are Blurred

 Today I am thankful that I'm a bitch. 

First, CO-PEP is up to their tricks again playing around with the law and ignoring my lawyer in an effort to try to get rid of my ex's child support arrearages.  That ship sailed when he refused to leave my home necessitating me to spend $30,000 in legal fees.  I gotta pay that money back with interest. 

I had hoped they'd play nice and be honest.  It looks like we are back to game playing.  

There are soon going to be very expensive health insurance premiums that will need to be accounted for.  If they're nice, I could let it slide. I'm busy with work and school.  I'm busy enough to let it slide. 

I've let a lot of medical costs slide.  I've let the fact that he continues to violate the divorce agreement slide.  Why would they want to piss me off?  It's not going to help their deadbeat daddy client. 

As an aside, he refused to tell me his address because he claimed I had time to stalk him.  It turns out that he has moved outside of the tiny area he demanded we both live in and didn't want to get caught.  He has taxpayer funded lawyers that'll help him beat any contempt game he plays.  I'm supposed to live in this house for two more years so he can keep tabs on me. 

If the State of Colorado wants to lie, cheat and steal and enable abusers.  I guess I can put reality aside and actually try to follow Colorado state law. 

I can follow the law and take him back to court for 1/24th of the $40,000 arrearage debt per month plus interest and 1/2 of that upcoming huge insurance bill. That would be $1666.66 per month for the arrearages without the $300 added each month for the insurance premiums.  

See all those sixes?  Following Colorado State Law to the letter can be evil.  I haven't even accounted for that 12% compounded tool of the devil interest rate.  

I only asked that he pay $150 per month towards the arrearages but a trio of not-so-bright Colorado State  lawyers decided to ignore that and file a motion gutting his child support. My ex husband is convinced that the State of Colorado is going to forgive him of the money he owes me.  I'm not on TANF so it's not going to happen.  

I didn't even want the interest.  If I have to hire a new lawyer to collect the funds, he's going to have to pay the interest.  

That's what I get for playing nice.   

Of all the people in the world, he ought to know how bitchy and scheming I can be.  I fought FOR him quite a bit when we were married.  

After twenty-nine years, you'd think he'd know better than to play games with me. 

Stupid is as stupid does. 

He's not the only Mike making strange decisions. 

*****

Our mayor is a comedian.  Mike Coffman wrote a beautiful piece of fiction in the Denver Post claiming to have been homeless a whole seven days in which he learned that homelessness is a choice! 

Of course he'd say that - HE MADE THE CHOICE TO BE HOMELESS FOR SEVEN DAYS! 

Few people have that luxury. 

I don't know about you but maybe he was homeless at the Brown Palace.  I know many homeless folks who live in hotels. 

If I chose to be homeless, I'd do it at the Brown Palace.  I did that once at the Waldorf Astoria.  I loved the food.  It's hard to get fresh seafood in Colorado.  In Manhattan, it was the best. 

After about a week, I had to come back to my apartment and reality in Colorado. 

I'm not sure if I should do a YouTube video interviewing real homeless folks, write an opinion piece, harass him on Facebook congratulating him on his humor but telling him that this crisis is not a laughing matter or educate him via a three minute chastisement during a city council meeting (if they even let people speak now). 

At least we have something in common.  I write fiction.  Mike Coffman does, too.

Either that or he's delusional.   

Wow....

Just wow.....

There are few men who make me lose the ability to speak. 

One guy causes all my blood to drift away from my brain. 

Three of them stun me into silence with their stupidity.  Funny, they all have the same first name. 

If I stop writing, it's because I have to get back to reality and stop trying to create a persona with all the gossip people have said about me. 

In the real world, there is no witchcraft - only bitchcraft.  

At least I own my lies and my comedy.  

I wish the #1 public figure in my town would do the same. 

I guess his party did one thing for me.  The Republicans hassled the homeless and got me a new hobby.  They also got the Libertarians into the act.  One of them started a charity to solve the problem. 

 It's a shame that Mike Coffman is buying into the lies and stereotypes about those among us with the least.   

If he wants, I'll take him out to meet some real homeless folks.  I'd bet good money he'd refuse the offer because I doubt he wants to see the reality. 
 
I could also school him on drug abuse, too. 

Love ya lots, 

S.  

A Sad Day Filled With Beautiful and Surprising Moments

 

I'm thankful that today was a day. 

It wasn't bad. 

It wasn't great. 

It was sad. 

I had to drive the Hypnomobile up to the mountains. 

She made it. 

My family wanted to remember my uncle near a place he liked to fish.  

My sister was supposed to drive my aunt to the venue.  She didn't do it.  My aunt calls me when I'm two hours outside of Denver to ask if I could get her.  I could but we'd both be late. 

Well, she decided to drive.  She left 2 hours after I did and got there on time.  She said that, at times, she had to drive at 100mph.  It's hard to imagine my elderly aunt driving that fast. 

She taught me how to drive.  I drive like a little old lady! 

That was surprising. 

****** 

Now, when my uncle's wife was alive, I was persona non-grata.  It's a role a play very well - I used to do it all the time in this gosh-forsaken city.  When they ignored me, it was just a sign and a signal to do more CORA requests.

I avoided family events to keep the peace.  It appears that I wasn't the only person to do that.  

Now that my uncle's wife is gone, I am welcome back in to the family. 

I managed to hold it together pretty well. 

I didn't cry at the funeral. My cousins wanted me to be with them because I was part of the family as their dad had raised me, too.  

I didn't cry when the minister gave the eulogy and spoke about how my uncle took me in after my parents died.  

I didn't cry when I realized that narcissistic baloney cost my uncle and I thirty-three years.  Life is too darn short to miss people we care about.  I got to spend some time with him last spring but due to Covid he wouldn't let anyone get close to him.  

I didn't cry when they spoke about the losses our family endured this year.  

I didn't cry when I was told my uncle asked if there was any chance he would leave the hospital alive on the day he died.  I was informed the doctor said that there was nothing they could do.  (grrr......got some research to do as to why he wasn't told the condition had a 48% survival rate for someone his age).

I didn't cry when my sister said that her boyfriend forced her to see a shrink because she blamed me for everything going on in her life. She apologized and said that she knew it was due to my parents ragging on me for "being perfect."

I wish I were perfect.  

I didn't cry when she explained that my ex-husband did some weird stuff to her.  I'm not exactly clear on what happened but my deceased aunt and uncle told her not to bother me with it.  She began by referring to him as my husband, numerous relatives jumped in to remind her that we'd been divorced seven years so there is no point in bringing it up now. 

She alluded to him stalking her and said she had proof.  I'm struggling with that.  Then she asked if he threatened to stalk other people.  I told her yes.  She started naming names.  I didn't cry.  I just told her that I avoid the people he claimed to stalk for their own safety.  

I didn't cry when my sister wanted to attack me with botox to fill in my smirk wrinkle.  I earned that flippin' thing.  I'm keeping it!  She's a cosmetologist.  

I didn't cry when my nephew recounted the horrible pink bathroom in my home and asked if I still lived there. He hasn't been here since 2002.  He was a child the last time he was here.  

I didn't cry when a homeless guy made me a cup of tea.  I only wish I had more money to give him a better tip! 

I didn't cry when I smacked my head into a steel bar holding up a swingset from my childhood that my grandfather made.  I still have the headache, though.  It was nice knowing that my cousins kept it. 

I didn't cry at the pictures.  I didn't cry at the kids who said that they never spent time with their grandfather (my uncle) because of family conflict. That's a shame.  

I didn't cry when I met the child named after my grandfather (he has a stunning likeness, too). 

I didn't even cry when I noticed that my eyes are BROWN (not green).....I haven't seen that for awhile.   
The sad and bad things didn't bring the tears. 

Do you want to know what made me cry? 

It was a man driving a white truck on the highway.  I was having a hard time getting into the right lane. Could have been the headache....or the speeding traffic....or that my car was acting weird.

This man gets behind me and basically moves into the right lane and waves me in front of him.  Then he goes back to the left lane to continue driving. . 

I lost it.   

I've not seen such kindness on a Colorado highway in recent years.  He got a prayer today.  I hope his biggest wish comes true, too.  

The day got better. 

I pulled off to get my car looked at and had the oil changed.  They put air in the tires, cleaned the windshield, got new wiper-blades and the car rides so much better.  My tires are fine they were just low on fluid air (did I just type fluid - maybe that smack to the noggin' left me with drain bamage?)  

I learned that my car is burning oil near the gaskets.  I'll have to decide if I want to keep her and replace the engine. Once they changed the oil, she drove a lot better.  They said it won't be a problem for awhile so long as I keep checking the oil. 

My computer hard drive is dying.  No, I haven't taken it into Microcenter yet. 

I had one that died shortly after buying it in 2017.  It became unplugged during an update.  I know I've tried to turn it on several times but gave up and bought a new computer. I swear that I tried to turn it on last week and it didn't work.  I charged it, turned it on and only saw the blue screen of death. 

Well - I thought I'd take that computer to Microcenter first, try to fix it and then take this one in.  This one is bleating like goat.  I hit Microcenter on the way home.  

I go up the counter. 

The guy turns it on. 

Viola - It's working perfectly!  

That was embarrassing.  

Then he sold me a 256gb flash drive to store my audio files on for $19.99.  That WAS exciting.  

It's almost midnight. 

I just got home. 

I feel like I've been everywhere today. 

Guess what is in my living room!! 

It is a huge box from Musician's Friend!!! 

I'm going to go now and see what Tom looks like. 

Maybe I'll post a picture.  I had someone ask me to get a selfie to post on a patriot site. 

Maybe I'll pose with the guitar. 

I don't know. 

My uncle used to tell me that I could play anything.  He said I sang well but just didn't take singing seriously enough.  

Maybe I should try getting singing lessons again.  I think they wanted me to sing Amazing Grace today.  I didn't do that.  

The one thing a musician knows is that there are many more talented people in the world.  In comparison to most people I know, I sound like a dying toad when I sing. 

On that note, I have to buy my niece accessories for her bass guitar (must run in the family).  I've got to make up for Christmas. 

I need to find an Amazon wish-lists for her twin brothers.  I'd better get crackin'.  Even though their mother never spoke to me, I always managed to have gifts find their way to them via my aunt (the one who died in March). 

I've been asked to take over the tradition of hosting the holidays.  I might do that.  I used to like hosting parties. 

It would give me the opportunity to clean out the clutter, too.    

There is just far too much to process today. 

There is too much to think about. 

My head still hurts from smacking it into the steel post.  My eyes are wiggin' out. 

I wish I could be more entertaining. 

I can't. 

It was a very spiritual day for me but I can't write about that without betraying myself. 

Maybe I'll come back to beautify this post when my head clears up a bit. 

May you have beautiful synchronistic moments even on your worst days. 

May you live every day of your life. 

Love ya, 

S.  

Next Day Edit:  I had to send the guitar back.  It turned out to be a damaged guitar that was returned to Guitar Center - the customer service rep at Musician's Friend said that they were out of stock so they had Guitar Center send one of theirs out to me.  Covid has shut most of the manufacturers down. 

When I opened the box, I saw that one side of the pick-up was attached with double sided tape and the other side was not attached.  The box had been torn open and had another person's name on it. 

I've been eyeing a Martin that costs thrice as much but is well worth it.  I may have to wait until the COVID crap is over before venturing out to grab one.  If I'm going to be certified in Music Therapy, I need to learn to play an acoustic well.  This goal is probably going to have to wait. 

Even with the counterfeit guitars on the market, I think I'll do better at a pawn shop than Musician's Friend right now.  I even come across fake guitars on Amazon once in a while.  

Never had a problem at Sweetwater.....but am beginning to realize that the supply chain is destroyed right now due to the overreaction of the government to a virus.

It's touching every aspect of our lives.  

Sigh.... 
. 

Depressed Siegfred

Today I am thankful for realizing that I'm depressed. 

For the first time in five years, I am wearing the clothes from high school. 

Still kinda look like a stuffed sausage in them but they aren't ripping out and my flab isn't hanging over the waistband. 

I'm going to eat salad until I lose another 20 pounds. 

Because I've lost two dress sizes in the past few months, I'm taking all of my clothes out of storage. 

I'm also starting to get clothes I ordered for myself after I lost the first five pounds.  I bought them from China (yeah...for shame...but they're cute so stuff it).  It took a long time to get here. 

They're too big now.  

Luckily, I know some people who will love brand new free clothes! 

As I'm cleaning out my room, I'm realizing that I'm depressed. 

I have hordes of shoes (many of them are identical and still have tags). 

I have hordes of clothes (also....many are exactly the same just different sizes). 

I have far too much jewelry (some are copies of others). 

These things have pretty much come into my possession since I swore off dating. 

I'm thinking I'm buying a bunch of crap to fill a gaping void in my world. 

There was a time when I only owned three pairs of shoes.  I was happy with three pairs of shoes. 

Those are the days I long for. 

On the bright side, I have about twenty black wrap dresses.  My uncle's funeral is tomorrow so at least I know I have something to wear. 

****

I still sleep with bay leaves under my pillow - which causes me not to remember my dreams....this makes me happy!

Bay leaves are supposed to give you dreams of your future lover.  I have no dreams.  \

This is AWESOME! 

Must be what freedom feels like! 

Before the bay leaves, I used to dream about having a BBQ party in which women are taking piles and piles of clothes, bags of jewelry and unused make-up out of the house.  

Funny thing to fantasize about, eh? 

To be sure, it would make cleaning house a heck of a lot easier. 

My friend with the homeless charity has suggested that I hold a garage sale with the proceeds to help the homeless. 

She also told me that our mayor claimed to have lived as a homeless person for seven days.  She's going to send me an article. 

Right off the bat, I'm going to say 

that I do not believe he did that. 

If he did, he would understand the crippling isolation and the toll that invisibility takes on a person's self-esteem. 

If he truly did this, I'll have to meet him (again).  I've never really had a chance to talk to him outside of 'hi.'  I've written to him on social media after his staff claimed I never lived in Aurora. 

I RAN for his seat many years ago!  What the hell?  

They barred me from a constituent meeting because they learned I went to high school in ARVADA in the 80's.  

That's their loss.  It's not a bad thing to have a conservative who specializes in covert crowd hypnosis on your side during a meeting taken over by hostile liberals. 

Whatever..... 

My favorite party trick is hyping people up!  I like to do that when my friends' bands play.  

Getting back to my point, if the mayor is pretending to have had the experience as an asinine publicity stunt, I may just have to have an encore. 

If he actually did this, it would be easy to tell.  If he's being honest, I may just consider helping him gain re-election but Ms. Hypnotist would have to talk to him to see if he's lying. 

I'd be interested in knowing how a conservative would want to solve the problem while being true to his ideology.  

C....

h...

a....

r....

i...

(not going to type it - but it would be good to open the churches again, wouldn't it? Spiritual folks do wonders for homeless folks - I see it all the time.) 

Sadly, with COVID, talking to politicians is much easier said than done. 

Do as much good as you can for as long as you can. 

I'm toying with the idea of asking for a practicum at an Aurora homeless shelter working with addicts.  I need 600 hours and can't imagine a better place for building a resource list for homeless folks.  I don't know - my history with the Aurora police department hasn't exactly been stellar. 

I mean, it's hard for me to forget the fake 911 calls that led to them traumatizing the kids at 2:00a.m. and I after I pissed off an Ass't City Attorney (the Supreme Court wrote to me to tell me to sue her personally for infringing on my rights).  There is that poor cop who chose to enter my property when I was in the shower....well...Let's just say I wonder if he lost his vision that day.  I haven't seen him since but he's answered the phone when I've called.  I wonder if he'll give me eye contact now? 

(evil laughter). 

Don't harass aging women.  It's scary.  

Love ya lots, 

S. 

Good news!

 

Today I'm thankful to report I failed a Covid test. 

It's a good thing because I can't afford to be unable to work. 

I've lost a lot of money in 2020 between having to shut down my business and take more classes due to licensure changes for counseling. 

I have four days of work to catch up on! 

On the bright side, with me afraid to go anywhere, my kids have decided to get over their fear of cars and learn to drive. 

It's a win-win.

Now, I've just got to talk to the adult daughter about the financial risk of taking a job at a Covid hot spot and living at home rent free.  

I'm going to up the allowance of the kiddo who cleans the kitchen and bathrooms, too.

The day would be just perfect if the bass strings and Recording King would get here.  

I never thought I'd see that brand again.  Recording King was the first brand Gibson used to make guitars.  They were supplied by Montgomery Wards during the Great Depression. 

It's cheap enough to waste at the rehab center but decent enough to practice.  It looks like the price dropped by another $50 bucks since I bought one. 

I hope the one I get doesn't suck and plays like the one I demoed.  They say that a good musician can play a toy and make it sound good. 

Not everyone is James Hetfield. 

May you stay well and live all of the days of your life,  

S. 

Edit:  That was funny.  As soon as I hit 'publish' I received a text alert that my package was here. 

In excitement, I open the front door to see a tiny package. 

My first thought was 'oh, crap! In my feverish delusion, I ordered a toy guitar!." 

It turns out that I just got two guitar stands and a shit ton of guitar and bass strings.  

I'm going to need another guitar stand. 

Uh oh...what kind of bass strings did I get? 

(Runs over to the box.....)

Oh no!  The package doesn't say.  

(Rips open the black cardboard package....) 

Whew!  Round wounds.....thank goodness. 

Don't want my bass player buddies thinking they've convinced me about the flat wounds. 

There is such a thing as pride. 

Why on earth did I buy the fifth string?  I donated that 5-string Millennium a long time ago. 

This just gives me permission to get another bass.  Last month, I saw a millennium on Overstock.com for $300 (weird, eh?).  I paid $4000 for the Koa wood version back in 1990.  

Maybe I'll name this bass Dennis? 

Probably not, I only name the basses after people I dislike but respect.  Dennis....he's not worthy.  

((( hugs ))), 

S. 

Lit Up Phone (with edit)

 

A good friend will never be the downfall of a friend.....ever.  

I'd rather pretend to be gay, 
Or admit to being asexual

(which you don't tell men because they're convinced that they can change that). 

Or hide my head in the sand. 
I will NEVER condemn a man to hell.  

Today I am thankful that my phone is muted. 

I'm home 

in quarantine 

and trying to complete counseling licensure paperwork for the State of Colorado. 

The bureaucracy is insane. 

It was easier to get my name on the ballot. 

I've spent the past five hours hunting down an emailed certificate of completion for a course I completed three weeks ago. 

My webmail host must've eaten it. 

Sigh..... 

*****
I'm still feeling rough. 

Tomorrow I find out if this is Covid, 

or a cold. 

This is nuts. 

My liberal friends think I'm dying. 

My conservative friends think I'm a sissy. 

I'm just trying not to freak out my boss and the pregnant patients. 

Covid won't kill me. 

It could harm them. 

So - 

I'm going to wait for the test results. 

*****

One of the calls was very interesting. 

By the time I checked my phone it was too late to call the person back. 

Even if I did, I don't know what to say right now. 

There is a man from my past who was a pal for nearly forty years. 

He's an Irishman. 

We grew up as neighbors. 

He has always had a crush on me. 

I thought he was too young for me. 

Besides, when you know someone a tad bit too long - 

you've seen him pee on electric fences and freak out because you thought you'd have to run home to call 911, 

get chased by angry cows, 

beat up the town bully, 

ogle all the girls around you, 

and is just so darn familiar that you feel like one of the boys, 

it's a little hard to feel anything other than platonic love for him. 

He's probably made model U.S.S. Enterprises with me, 

seen me eat paste, 

and heard my squeaky clarinet more than anyone else in the world. 

I possibly still have his recorder from back in the day (as we traded stuff for marbles and matchbox cars). 

I never so much as held his hand (well, maybe once when I had to grab him away from a farmer who was getting aggressive - probably over the angry cow thing). 

We never kissed.  He saw me without make-up all the time! 

With him, I never even tried to be pretty or glamorous.  I just wanted to be fun.  

We were kids! 

He feels like family. 

Sometimes his calls are difficult to take.  

He has recently told me that he was jealous of the men I chose to be with. 

I don't know why he said that.  

He is married (unless he just filed papers or something). 

There are drunken Valentine's Day calls.  If I answer, I force him to tell his beautiful wife all of those things he tries to tell me. 

I can hear her beautiful voice laughing in the background. 

The past two years, I've worked graveyards on Valentine's Day so I miss those 2:00 a.m. calls. 

There was one in the wee hours of the morning. 

The message just came in after I fell asleep.  I was so sick, I muted my phone. 

I'll turn it on to see if he's okay. 

Lately, he calls and asks for prayers.  I pray with him until he falls asleep. 

He promises me that he and his wife will visit. 

I've never met her. 

Messing around with married men is not my style.  If I love this man, my only course of action is to do my best to help him save his relationship.  Life is cheaper that way. 

He tells me he's happy with her.  If so, why does he call me and say the things he says? 

Something about the message this morning scares the heck out of me. 

I'm terrified. 

******

So, 

after several months of nearly nightly nightmares about a different guy from my past (just not quite forty years back), 

a firm decision to run off from any dark haired man from my past, 

and a bedroom that smells like bay leaves, 

I've stopped trusting my intuition. 

Yeah, there is a strong connection to someone I used to be very close with. 

It just wasn't who I thought it was. 

I bought the birthday present for the wrong guy. 

I'll get this person something different.  I've got three and a half weeks to get it out to his family. 

Maybe he needs a Bible? 

Or maybe a gift certificate to take the Mrs. to a romantic venue.  Are things open? 

I don't know. 

*****

I guess I'd better unmute my phone and charge it. 

Maybe I'll clean my spare bedroom. 

He's not allowed at my home without his wife. 

Why me? 

The most awkward calls are the ones where he calls me in the wee hours of the morning to declare his undying love to me and I make him fetch his wife because those words belong to her. 

Damn it. 

I'd say I need a boyfriend to put a stop to it but I think he did this when I was married, too. 

Ugh - 

I guess I'll call a relationship coach and ask for advice. 

A good friend does not mess around with a friend's marriage. 

*****

I used to think my spirit animal was a squirrel given my ADHD. 

Now, I'm realizing that it must be an ostrich 

as I'm always sticking my head in the sand when it comes to uncomfortable situations. 

May you be braver than I. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Edit 03/01/2021

So - now I'm getting the same text message from this person's number. 

It's simply - 

'Can we talk?' 

I always get it at work. 

He never responds back when I write "I'm at work but will be free at [time]" nor does he call. 

I'm thinking that my old friend is not the person behind the messages.  I'm thinking it's his wife. 

He'd respond. 

If he can't get me on the phone, he'd run to Facebook and post on my wall.  He'd probably post a picture of one of the cats he rescues on the side of the Nebraska highway to get my attention. 

Oh, he grew up to be a fireman.  Women aren't a problem for firemen.  When he fights a particularly bad fire, he'll call and make sure I've gotten good fire alarms. 

Which I did. 

Then he called to make sure I had good fire extinguishers (not so much) 

and a fire towel. 

He's the reason my fire extinguishers are hooked into the electrical system so the batteries are constantly charged. 

This guy isn't shy. 

I just don't like it when he calls me drunk to tell me stuff he ought to tell his Mrs. 

He's married (at least as far as I know) 

He's not the person texting me now.    

Part of me wonders if his Mrs. needs him to tell her he loves her. 

When he does that drunk calling thing, I always have him get his wife in the room and repeat all those "I love you's", "I've loved you since the day I met you" and "You're beautifuls" to her. 

She always laughs.  She has a big, booming, hearty laugh. 

Maybe I need to send a date night gift certificate out there now? 

Maybe not - it could just be him and the cats now.  

Sigh - 

Looks like I'll need a bigger altar to Aphrodite.

It's not enough to pray that all my male friends get married.  I guess I got to keep lighting those little white candles so they stay happy.

My house is going to look like an inferno. 

Good thing he talked me into investing in all that fire protection stuff. 

Hugs, 

S.   

Quarantined

 

Today I am thankful that the MA who did my Covid test didn't shove the Q -tip so far in my brain as to give me a double lobotomy. 

I'm allergic to almost everything in my environment; my dog, my cat, the trees in the front yard, dust....

too much to list. 

Chronic sinusitis is a thing for me. 

This time, it got into my ears.  In addition to the earaches, I have a headache and a sore throat.  For a couple of days,  I couldn't move my hands, my knees, hips and back hurt (but that didn't stop me from using voice commands to buy musical supplies online).  I cough once in a while, not the steady non-stop cough of someone with Covid.  It'll cough a couple of times an hour to get the crap out that has moved into my lungs. 

Attractive, eh? 

My skin looks so white, I actually like how I look.  I'm pretty sure that tone is due to the illness.  I'll give it a couple of days and I'll have my ruddy complexion back. 

Every once in a while, I'll drink coffee.  I can still taste and smell the coffee. 

It's probably not Covid. 

There is this nasty taste emanating from my lungs. 

My lips aren't blue. 

With my asthma and my dislike of my inhaler, my lips and fingernails are often blue. 

My pulsox is 85.  That's not too bad. 

My blood pressure is 156/111.  That was probably due to having to tell my boss that I'm sick.  I want to protect the pregnant patients.  The best way to do that is not to come to work sick. 

Oh, and the sewer backed up into my laundry room this morning.  I can't invite a plumber in my home for fear of making him or her sick. 

The cold symptoms won't kill me.  My inability to shower will.  Most of my rituals involve bathing in pink Himalayan salt to get negative, old stale energy off of me. 

How in the world can I live with all this creepy accumulate? 

Crap....

I asked a nurse how to tell the difference between a head-cold and Covid. 

We can't.  

That's the rub, isn't it?

The government has created such a hysteria that a cold can cause financial ruin. 

The only reason I went in for a test is that my daughter was exposed at work.  She works in a health food store.  Neither she or her employer are taking it seriously.  

She had a stomach issue last night. 

She's blaming week old alfredo.  I didn't even know there was alfredo in the fridge.  

I visited the Colorado CDC website:  My daughter's workplace is a hotspot: CDPHE COVID-19 Outbreak Map Updated December 30, 2020 (arcgis.com)

She's 23 and indestructible.  Kids don't take such things seriously.  

Sigh....

I'm sure it's not Covid but without a test my boss will worry.  I'll worry.  I will probably be okay tomorrow but won't be able to work until the test results come back. 

It's a shame I won't have my new guitar or decent bass strings for a few days.  Charlie still has the factory set.  

I guess I'll go on ahead and tune him.  

******

This guy cracks me up.  

I never heard a rapper who loves Christmas as much as this guy. 

Seriously - all he sings is 

ho....

ho....

ho! 

Just teasing.....

Up until today, I resembled this song. 

I had a hell of a freaky weight loss in September and lost 20 pounds within a few weeks.  Doctor said I managed to keep it all off. 

Losing 20 pounds so quickly leads to flab.  Flab can cause tsunamis when I wave at people.

There are no gyms that I can frequent.  My boss asks me not to go anywhere but work. 

That's what I do.  

I have a home gym but because I haven't invited a repair man out to fix my dryer, it's being used as a drying rack.  

Excuses, excuses.....

It's sad when one identifies with a rap song.  

If someone were to smack me, they'd be hypnotized by the skin ripples.  

Maybe I can lift cans of tomato juice or something? 

Thinking about it. 

Not sure what else to say.....

*****
I went to the dentist two weeks ago. 

This guy did not wear facial coverings. 

No eye goggles. 

No masks. 

It was the quickest cleaning ever.  I was out in 8 minutes flat. 

At the time, I thought it was due to my expensive vibrating toothbrush with the blue light.  

Maybe not? 

I'm sure water splashed in his face. 

I will be so flippin' embarrassed if I have Covid and he gets it. 

If a dentist isn't worried about it, should I be worried? 

This is getting scary.  

*****

Right now I'm about to cough and choke. 

In about two weeks, I'll probably be broke. 

Life is nothing but a game. 

and my feverish attempts at rhyme are lame. 


Maybe my feverish paintings will be better. 

Take your zinc, vitamin C and D3.  

For some reason, it didn't work for me.  

Strange....

Love ya lots, 

S. 

Meet Tom (with edit)

 Today I am thankful for my new acoustic electric. 

He plays like a dream. 

Since, I wouldn't feel right slapping something named after a person with whom I owe a sort-of Wookie Life Debt, I got this adorable number.  I'm thinking of painting birds or a Mandela on it.  I guess it'll depend on what I feel when he gets unboxed. 

It's not an expensive guitar but it sounds better than most I can get for under $300.00.  I can take it to the rehab center and not cry if someone Hendrixes it or borrows it indefinitely.  

I can finally take advantage of all those bass and guitar lessons I paid for. 

Not bad.....

Um..... how does one tune that 6th string? 

Just teasing...

I should tell my buddy Shawn that I've got my own acoustic guitar so I won't be messing around with his Rogue. He's a little upset with me. His guitar is in my walk-in closet and smells like incense.  He laughed that I took away the 'old man smell' and wonders what his wife will think when she gets a whiff of the sandalwood. 

Maybe I'll spray the case with a pheromone or something after he takes it out of my house.  Mrs. Gorgeous will like that. 

We'll probably get into a guitar battle when they visit. 

I'd better start practicing. 

Oh no! I don't think there is a pick in the house.  

Maybe I can cut up my credit cards to make picks. 

The Gods know I really shouldn't use credit cards for anything else. 

Hmmm....I probably shouldn't leave and go anywhere. 

I wonder if I can get a strap, picks and case on Amazon? 

Maybe I'll go shopping at Musician's Friend.  

I don't like to do that because I tend to buy too much stuff there. 

*******

I am in a heck of a lot of pain and worried about having the flu or 

da.....

da....

dum....

the COVID. 

There was a fibromyalgia diagnosis back in '94 and the pain wasn't nearly this bad.  

Then again, I'm a hypnotist.  I have tricks to keep pain away. 

I just don't want to give someone a case of the sniffles and force them out of work while they quarantine for fourteen days. 

******

My 22 year old came home sick. 

She told me that she was exposed to COVID at work. 

Crap - 

I may have two weeks with nothing better to do than play the days away. 

Between Tom, Charlie and the unnamed Peavey bass - I'll have plenty to do. 

Now, I have a cover for myself if the nightmares never stop. 

If I scream out that name in horror in the middle of the night, 

I'll tell anyone who asks that I'm just dreaming up a new melody to play on my new guitar 

and if the scream is horrific, I'll tell them that the melody was inspired by 

Oingo Boingo or Marilyn Manson. 

Love ya, 

S. 


Uh, oh...Musician's Friend has mixing boards on sale....

must look away....

look away.....

too late!

oooh - I need to get some newer bass strings just in case - 

strap lock system?  

Need a few of those.....some of my gear is soooo vintage, it is hard to replace. 

How did I triple the cost of my order? 

Damn - I'm going to go broke. 

This is WHY I'm single. 

When I was married, I felt bad buying strings for myself let alone guitars.  

As a single girl, my bass and guitar collection is exploding. 

((((hugs )))) 

Edit 02/02/2021 - 

Tom had to go.  It arrived and pick-up was taped on!  It was flippin taped on! 

Maybe the one I demoed was previously owned by a luthier. 

The guitar I got stunk to high heaven. 

I sent it packing. 

Well, 

I broke down and bought a blue sunburst Ibanez acoustic-electric even though I never liked Ibanez basses, their pick-ups suck.  

It has to be better than the crappy Recording King I got.  It's cheap enough that if someone at the Rehab Center trashes it, I won't cry over it.  

After my experience at Musician's Friend, I think I'm done ordering from them.  They're getting their stuff sent by Guitar Center.  The only thing I've ever bought at Guitar Center is a pop filter. 

I'm glad I never got anything else there.   

Never had a problem at Sweetwater or American Musical.  

When Covid is over, I can do my thing of scouting the pawn shops.  One of my bass player buddies has a knack for finding really good $50 basses.  He keeps those for himself.  

When he was a teenager, I tried to teach him bass but his mom thought I wanted to date him so she refused.  I was dating someone else....sigh. 

We are only five years apart.  If I would have taught him, he'd probably play jazz. 

No, he's self-taught and has a death metal band. 

I wonder if his mom regrets that decision.  At least he's happy.  

Such is life. 

((( hugs ))) 

 

Sicko (with edit)

 Today I am thankful for a good dream. 

I pray it is the last dream of a certain soul.

I'll blame the fever. 

So - 

I fell ill at work yesterday. 

Probably an ear inflection, 

which led to me taking the sulfa drugs I still have in my possession so I wouldn't have to go to the doctor, 

those drugs made me sick to my stomach, 

I turned white as a ghost. 

My colleagues sent me home. 

Now, I have vertigo so I called in. 


Sigh - 

I can't walk straight due to the vertigo 

the last thing I want are my patients thinking I'm drunk or somethin'. 

*****

Vertigo, 

I always get that when I'm near an old friend I love but refuse to allow myself to feel it. 

Salman Rushdie claimed vertigo to be due to the conflict between the fear of falling and the desire to stay strong. 

My first bout of vertigo occurred on 8-19-08 when someone whispered "[y]ou're still pretty.  Let me know what happens with that guy." into my ear. 

I think I shook my head up and down as if I were saying "yes."  If I did that, that was one promise I never kept. 

Truth be told, it's over between me and "that guy" but I'll never quite know what happened with him or why he did the weird crap he did.  How does one talk about what one does not understand? 

The vertigo was so bad, I fell in a bookstore buying a book for the vertigo instigator.  It was book on how to do chiropractic at home.  

It's still on my bookshelf.  I never remembered to bring it when I ran into him.  

I guess I could mail it -but- after thirteen years, it's probably a tad bit outdated. 

That initial bout of vertigo lasted over a week.  I ended up in the ER due to dehydration. 

*****

Today's bout of vertigo could be due to the dream. 

It was a beautiful dream 

but it's creepy because I don't want to dream of certain people anymore. 

Since, I've started putting bay leaves under my pillow, 

I don't dream unless I forget to raid Apollo's tree. 

I was so sick yesterday that I fell asleep as soon as I made it home from work forgetting my new ritual. 

The dream is wonderful. 

I'm in a winter wonderland. 

I see my old friend playing in the snow 

with a young woman with long dark hair. 

She's wearing a tan trench coat. 

They make snow angels. 

They get into a snowball fight. 

It's beautiful. 

I wake up after one of them throws a snowball at me

and gets me in the face. 

Maybe the universe is letting me know that I can stop praying for him now. 

*****
We are so very differant. 

He likes the snow. 

I like being an ice queen. 

There is a memory of being seventeen years old and ice skating for the very first time. 

I actually remember him asking if I wanted to go to the skating rink.  We always had unplanned adventures.  I was excited until I stepped into the building. 

This was always my idea of skating.  Remember I grew up in the 70's with a bunch of obnoxious neighbor boys.  This was how we skated outside in the court yard of the apartment complex where we grew up.  I have many scars from all that.  Great times! 

This was his idea of skating: 

Could two people be any more different? 

That was the day I probably when I realized how adorable my friend was shaped because I couldn't stand. 

My memory is....well....of me continuously falling and winding up on the ice with a nice view of his behind. 

That poor man. 

I wonder how many times I fell and took him with me? 

That poor man. 

At least I didn't punch him or purposely push him into a wall. 

Still, that ought to give him some good karma with the angels. 

*****

I know I'll think about him when the city creates that ice rink every winter. 

I'll probably never see the ice sculpture show now (since he lives up there).  My kids are begging me to take them into the mountains to go shopping.  In the past, they never bought anything at Silverthorne.  We just looked around, walked by the river and wound up at the Dillon Target to buy things they knew they'd actually wear.  Yeah, they had a lot of flannel.  

Uh.....no.  We have a Target two blocks away from the house that carries flannel. 

We don't have to go to Silverthorne anymore.  Castle Rock is closer. 

The shopping in the mountains thing is now a running argument in my home.   My kids hate to shop. 

I wonder where this is coming from? 

Strange....

*****

To be sure, this needs to be the last dream of him. 

If not, I'm going to have to order another laurel tree from Greece. 

Happy New Year, 

S. 

Edit Two Days later 

My bed smells like bay leaves but I'm sleeping better than ever. 

Could be the illness but I'm going to credit the fact that I'm not terrified of dreamtime. 

They say if you write a wish on a bay leaf and burn it, it'll come true. 

I now have a ton of used bay leaves.  What should I write on them? 

Maybe I should wish to increase my IQ?  

I do have a bit of a warning. 

I took two sulfa antibiotic pills justifying that it is often prescribed for sinus infections and that I hadn't taken one since I was 16 years old. I thought that, perhaps, the doctor was wrong about the allergy back in the '80's. 

I also did not want to expose myself to the germies in the doctor's office. 

So, I popped a pill that he accidently prescribed to me in November. 

Don't do that. 

Just don't. 

Don't take drugs that you know you are allergic to. 

I feel like I'm itching from the inside out. 

There are welts all over my body. 

Even my fingernails are swollen. 

I used to think that I got the chickenpox for the second time at the age of sixteen. 

I remember scratching so much that I have prominent scars on my chest, arms and legs from all that scratching. 

The skin eruptions were probably from the allergic reaction to the drug. 

Don't tempt fate. 

It's uncomfortable. 

It's a shame that I can't go to the store for calamine. 

Hugs, 

S.