Can You Get Whiplash from Shaking Your Head?

 

Today I am thankful that I know other homeless activists: 

There are some people I can't even try to help. 

Well, there is one person. 

 So - 

I signed divorce papers the summer of '13. 

This was after seven years of being told that our relationship was over.  This was after 12 years of (pretty much) sleeping apart. 

My ex-husband played a lot of games to keep me with him.  He wanted a.....what did he call it? a "fake marriage"....shoot, I don't remember now. 

It was as if we put on a show for the world. 

He did a lot of crazy crap to keep me here.  

He'd threaten to kill himself. 

He'd lie and say he was having life threatening health issues and ask me to stay until the surgeries were over. 

There were no surgeries. 

Once he let go of a handle on the back of a semi.  This caused him to fall to the ground and shatter his right wrist.  The way he described it to me, it was intentional. 

We were divorced a couple of years when he did that.  Guess who had to nurse him? 

Ugh.....

Then there was the legal crap. 

First, he sued the city. 

Then he filed for bankruptcy.  In the State of Colorado, it is illegal to file for a divorce pending a bankruptcy. 

Let's just say that he sat on that paperwork for four years to make me wait to file for a divorce. 

Of course, he dragged out the divorce and begged the judge to wait until after the new year to make it official that way he could get a bigger tax refund. 

So, it was official in early January 2014. 

The problem was that he wouldn't honor the agreement. 

I couldn't evict him from the house. 

The mistake? 

Well, in the mediation, he wanted to be able to enter into this home at will to visit with his kids.  He demanded that I live here. 

No. I didn't want the house.  We were in the middle of a recession and it wasn't worth anything.  It wasn't underwater but it wouldn't have netted me enough money to split once it was sold. 

I wanted him to have the house.  He could fix it up.  He could make a profit when the market rebounded. 

There was an argument.  

He demanded that I leave the room. 

The mediator sat with him. 

She came out with a document and warned me that he was stalking me because he was adamant that I not be able to move for the next decade. He was also fixed on the idea that he would have to live within a mile of me! 

Wanting to get the heck out of there, I signed what was put in front of me. 

According to the original legal agreement, I had to live in this house until 2023 and had to invite him over every Sunday for dinner. He also had free range at my home on all of the holidays. 

He was excused from alimony (that was until a judge put it back into the decree....we've never even talked about it let alone took it seriously.) 

I was to keep my mini-van (the one I paid for).  This never happened.  He took my van the day our divorce was final. 

He got his little sportscar (which he claimed didn't run so he took my vehicle, too).  

We were to split the remainder of the money (which never happened). 

He was to leave on October 21, 2013. 

I wasn't able to evict him until December 24, 2016 (a date he chose - always wanting to create drama). 

That judge saw the bs in the original agreement and forbade my ex from entering my home ever again once he left.  That court date was hellish, my ex wore sandals with gnarly long, yellow toenails.  His hair was messy and he was angry.  He arrived in my mini van and complained that he would be homeless if I didn't let him live in my basement apartment rent free.   

The judge gave him 90 days to find a place (his mother would have gladly taken him in). He chose Christmas Eve as the day to vacate. I found out later that the city he sued paid for a place for him several months earlier but he didn't want to live there because it was dirty. 

Getting back to my mistake: 

You see....

when an ex has access to a house at will, it is just a slippery slope allowing one to stay indefinitely. 

It cost $10,000 to get him out.  I got judgments for $30,000 (to make up for the money he stole from the IRA).  

He wrecked my van and I signed over that check to him so he could pay for an apartment. I think he used the money to buy a fancy phone. 

He "lost" his job.  He was a corporate auditor making a lot of money. 

Now he drives the short bus (not joking....but that low paying job is kinda fitting given the circumstances). 

Even after he left, he played a lot of games to cost me a lot of money (e.g. calling my insurance company and telling them we were married so I had to pay his auto-insurance......grrrr....I finally figured it out in 2017 and tried to cut him off the insurance company wouldn't refund me the six month premium because of his lie). 

I'm tired of his crap. 

All along he publicly whines and cries about being a homeless addict (knowing the first group of people I try to help is...well....the homeless and the second group of people are the addicted). 

In private, he tells me that he doesn't do drugs and that he's not homeless. 

This is a game for him. 

The sad thing is that even if he were homeless, I couldn't help him.  I wouldn't even be able to figure out the truth. 

He just did a very stupid thing. 

He did this after I decided not to renew the $30,000 worth of judgments I have against him. 

Maybe I should reconsider? 

*****

So....

he wanted to lower his child support (which he is eligible to do). 

I dutifully sent in all that information that a stalker could use (my employers, my tax information, my phone numbers, household members....everything). 

I remember doing this in early November when I was dizzy and fainting (due to taking prescribed Adderall, buspirone, venlafaxine and drinking a lot of grapefruit juice....don't do that).  This was the day I would later learn that my clarinet playing colleague had been found up in the mountains but was so badly burned, he couldn't be identified. 

It was a bad day.  It was like my subconscious knew of the horror of that day.  I knew something was wrong but couldn't pinpoint it. I drove to the county building right after seeing my doctor who was trying to figure out my inexplicable 28 pound weight loss in less than a month. 

CO-PEP (the deadbeat daddy welfare program) had a lawyer call my lawyer.  They came up with a number.  When my lawyer asked about handing the $40,000 worth of arrearages by paying $150 per month, the taxpayer funded lawyer representing my ex hung up and ignored her. 

So.....

I asked her to send a response to the court keeping the amount of child support the same because it was obvious he could pay it.  Two hundred dollars of that would go towards the arrearages. I would not seek interest and I would let the other $30,000 in judgments for the money he never gave me lapse.

Just to be honest, he was initially supposed to pay $1,488 per month.  He got a $500 credit for carrying health insurance on the kids (which he never did).  In 2016, his child support dropped for $504 because he claimed that he could only make $12 per hour.  He was off the hook for health insurance. 

This was done with the help of CO-PEP lawyers.  The State of Colorado claimed he was indigent (would have been better if they said he was ignorant) and he got three taxpayer funded lawyers who helped him to run up my legal bills.  They spent a lot of time making bizarre claims about me in court (e.g. I have adults living here - implying they were lovers who were supporting me - and trying to strike it from the record that the adults living here are our daughters that are in college). 

Of course, he didn't pay a dime of it for several more years. 

He would call and text me with disturbing lies about me and my family.  Then he'd taunt me claiming that CO-PEP had his back, they were more powerful than the courts and they gave him permission to ignore the court orders. 

He is completely convinced his CO-PEP case manager is going to erase his arrearages.  I think they tried to invoke a law which pretty much lets a court dismiss a debt if I don't try to collect it.  That's why they ignored my lawyer. 

He is a corporate auditor with a vast knowledge of tax law.  This time of year, he could rake in the dough by doing taxes.  Instead, he drives the short bus. 

I don't know why someone would play games with his ability to earn a living but it is what it is. If he's going to suffer just to spite me, he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch.

I'm too busy earning my coin and going to school so my coins can get bigger.  There is no time to play games with this joker.  He blew the retirement so I'm going to have to work until the day I die. 

The entire time, he was in and out of court whining that he was "homeless" or that the apartment he had was filthy with bed bugs.  In court he once claimed that it was my fault his apartment was dirty.

We were divorced!!  It was like he expected me to clean up his apartment!!! 

Ugh....

I'm not going to clean up after him anymore. 

*****

If you're wondering, yes....he was diagnosed as a narcissist by more than one licensed therapist.  When a therapist caught on to his games and lack of empathy, he stopped going. 

****

Now, if the CO-PEP lawyers had not ignored my lawyer, he'd only pay about $150 per month towards the arrearages.  This was the request. I'm supporting his college aged kids and that amount will help with the cost of schooling and driver's ed. 

The judge is making him pay $217 per month. 

I thought that was the end of the ordeal. 

No. 

My ex claims to be pissed that's he's paying more than $100 towards the arrearages each month.  State law says that he needs to pay it within 24 months (meaning a payment of $1666.66 monthly - talk about evil - look at all those sixes). 

I thought I was being generous.  I'm not even tallying the interest or trying to collect that. 

*****

I received an email Sunday when I was getting my Covid shot.  

I'm sitting there with a nurse watching me to make sure I don't go into anaphylaxis, when my phone lights up. 

As I read the document, I suddenly found it hard to breathe.  It wasn't an allergic reaction.  It was me stifling laughter. 

Apparently, my ex-husband filed a four page hand-written rant at the county courthouse demanding that the district judge review the magistrate's decision due to his disdain that the magistrate wasn't a mind-reader. 

Not joking.....

The magistrate should have known that he was suffering due to Covid and that most guys' hours are getting cut.  He claims he can only afford to pay $100 per month in arrearages and the judge should have known that. Mind you, his government funded lawyer didn't even offer that.  The lawyer just hung up and ignored everything. 

He works for RTD.  The local transit authority requires overtime (which should count towards his income when it comes to child support).  He tells so many stories, I just ignore it.  I'm not going to wrinkle and go gray over money I'll never see. 

Covid is not impacting him. 

It's impacting me (in that I can't see private clients right now).  I don't whine about it.  I believe that fallow times are good for investing in learning.   

The level of vile vitriol in that filing has me a little bit scared for our safety. 

Stuff like this makes me happy I'm away from the relationship.  I can't believe I spent more than half of my life with this drama king!  

Wow....

Apparently, he told the sixteen year old that he's living in a hotel.  I know a lot of homeless people living in hotels.  The address he gives in the filing is to an apartment in Lakewood....not a hotel.   

So..... 

It's a shame he didn't follow the original divorce agreement.  If he stayed in the city he demanded we both live, there are many people who would help him. 

He didn't.  

Don't know too much about Lakewood (except that there is A LOT of corruption there - maybe someday I'll tell you about the elderly farmer they stole land from for the police department and city building). 

There is a great little church in Arvada that helps the homeless.  Once I get school out of the way, I intend to tithe to them because I should be making decent money.  I could offer to counsel their homeless addicts, too. 

*****
I have NEVER met a homeless person with as much hatred as this guy who pretends to be homeless for my sympathy. 

Trust me, I meet a lot of angry homeless folks who are scared, addicted, cold and hungry. Many have untreated mental health issues. 

No one has ever been as nasty as my ex-husband. 

I wonder how long it will be before someone calls him on his crap? 

Sigh.....

I don't know.....

if only he would have taken the house, he'd be sitting pretty right now. 

I've sunk $60,000 into fixing the damage he did to the basement after our divorce. 

It's too late to give him the house now. 

At the last appraisal, I have earned $332,000 worth of equity. 

What a difference nine years can make. 

May you stay prosperous and may all your karma be good. 

More importantly, may you know enough NOT to piss off a judge. 

Love ya, 

S. 

 

A Familiar Love Story ( with edit)

 

Today I am thankful for songwriters who write stuff to remind me that other people go through these things, too. 

I heard this song and it reminded me the star of my nightmares.  It's just hard to decide who the runner is. 

He's the runner - but - is it possible that I push him into the race. 

Sigh - 

****
There was a lesson this week. 

In arranging my life to keep men away, I forgot to account for repairmen to fix the old, dilapidated facility in which I work. 

So - 

I met a guy. 

He's my age, 

tall, 

has blue eyes, 

and a familiar Ohio-ish mid-western accent (like my uncle and grandfather). 

He's funny has heck. 

Not sure if I can say much.....

He introduced himself as "Jake, not from State Farm." 

He tried to trick me into taking off my mask so he could see my face. 

Must've seen me swooning. 

I'm a musician (not a good one but despite this), I judge my world by sound. 

If you have a voice I'm attracted to, you're hot no matter what you look like. 

Truth be told, he was hot before he even opened his mouth. 

There are those crossroads moments - 

you know, those moments when you decide to stop that line of thinking right there 

or give someone your number. 

I did the usual - kept my information to myself and promised to remind the boss to call if we needed his services again. 

This is all too familiar. 

I always take the easy way out. 

I've become love avoidant. 

*****

 Maybe I'm not love avoidant. 

Maybe I realize I have to get over stuff from the past before dragging anyone else in to my world. 

Last night, I meditated to a statue of Aphrodite. 

I let myself feel. 

Yeah, I can't date new people right now.

I need to get right in my head. 

For a moment, I questioned that....

I wondered....

Would it be so bad to date new people if no one knew that I cared about someone from my past? 

After a bit of meditation, 

I realized....

someone knew I loved him. 

I haven't really said those three little words to him in over thirty-three years. 

What I have said was far stronger. 

"If you ever need anything, I am here for you." 

Ugh....

My bass player buddy was right all those years ago - 

he told me that I was unavailable. 

You know what, 

Nick (not his real name) was right. 

Sigh....

I guess the lesson is that love leaks out. 

We can't hide it. 

It's not really something we can control. 

We just have to experience it until we move on - whether we are together or alone. 

At least I'll have more time for art, study and work. 

May all your dreams come true, 

Love, 

S. 

Edit 10 hours later 

**Maybe I'll tell you why I like this song below....maybe....

After I hit publish, I jumped in my car to drive to the office.  As I approached the stop sign at the end of the block, my Private Investigator neighbor approached my car. 

I roll down the window, still singing with the Kylie CD in the stereo. 

"How can you hate something that you ain't ever tried?

You've got to lose control 'most every night

Yeah, you see what they do

But we can do it better; yeah, I'm talking to .....

er.....

Hey!! Long time no see, neighborino!" 

Then I realize this guy has the same name as my Fender Precision.....

in over 20 years, I've never called him that, though. 

"Did you get your Covid shot, yet?" He inquires.  

"No, getting that tomorrow afternoon.  I took the next day off in case I get sick from it. Did you?" 

"Yeah, got both of 'em" he smiles.  He rarely smiles.  Something's up. 

That smile turns into a grin. Then he asks "Have you found a hunny yet?" 

"No" I stammer "I'm too busy with work." 

"We've talked about this!!  You're not living life!"  Yeah, he's been trying to get me a lover since 2006.  

"Let me play Cupid!" he's still grinning.  

I give him a stupid look.  I'm literally speechless.  The stereo is blaring.... 

"You've got to feel it, see it, know how much you need it

What's the point in living if you don't take a chance?

You've got to use it, lose it, know the chance to do it

What's the point in living if you don't wanna dance?"

Well, that was the worst moment for that particular song to play.  

Sigh.....I agreed to visit with him Monday if I'm feeling okay. 

On my 45 minute commute, I wonder if I'm wrong to be alone.  Then I realize, I'm just trying to clear my head.  It's better this way. 

On my way home, I opted to listen to the radio instead of the CD and heard a song from the 80's.....

Of course, I think of the namesake of the Ibanez (the star of my nightmares). 

I pray for his happiness. 

At that moment, it started to snow.  The snow quickly turned into a blizzard. 

I don't like driving in the snow. 

My old friend loves the snow. 

I think my prayer was answered. 

Maybe that's the purpose of the dreams - 

to wish something good upon someone else. 

When I figure out what must be done, 

the dreams will stop 

and I'll be able to move on. 

Love you lots, 

S

Edit four days later: 

Okay, I've got to find a new prayer for an old friend. 

Heard an 80's song he used to sing to me....

thought of him....

prayed for whatever would make him happy, 

it started to snow. 

I drove home in a blizzard at 1:00 a.m. 

Someone stopped in front of me. 

Someone sped up behind me. 

I wound up doing a 360 in the middle of the onramp to I-225 from Belleview. 

The person who sped up behind me wound up stuck in the snow a few miles down the road. 

First, living in a snow globe near a ski town would make the subject of the prayers happy. 

It's good to know my prayers are answered. 

Me?  I'm not really happy with snow if I have to drive 30 miles in it. 

If you have to drive in a blizzard in Colorado - never slam on your brakes on a bridge (they get awfully icy because the air under the bridge cools the road faster than other portions of the highway). 

If you don't have a four wheel drive, never stop fully at a light.  Slow down to a near stop but if you stay in the same place too long, the heat from your car will melt the snow and ice will accumulate near your tires causing you to get stuck.  So you creep....

I just had a thought: I'm a creep - I have creepy dreams and I creep around stop lights in blizzards. 

Ha! 

Bad jokes...must be tired. 

I am.  Had a patient need suits and dresses for a new job.  Somehow a bunch of donations magically came out of my closet this morning (some are at the cleaners and the others are freshly washed and in the patient storage room).  I stayed up until 6:00 a.m. hunting down clothes for her.  Five bags of clothes later and I still haven't cleaned out my walk-in closet.  

It's a shame we don't wear the same size shoes. The patients would need another storage room!  I have a feeling they'll all end up there anyway. 

This is exciting.  I always fantasized about having more room for guitars!  

Awesome!!! 

Love ya lots, 

S. 

**My mom was incredibly witty. 

 She once walked in a man romancing Rosie Palm and his five Blister sisters.  

She remarked "You ought to let a woman do that for ya." 

When I was old enough to understand what that meant, it cracked me up. 

She died when I was fourteen.  She was long dead by the time I figured it out. 

That song reminds me of mom's joke.

May mom RIP. 

Mini Heart Attacks

 

Today I am thankful for baby aspirin. 

I probably ate far too much salt.  I took an older woman out to dinner yesterday and ate a burrito.  

Shouldn't have done that. 

I've got a headache from Hades and my chest hurts like hell. 

Maybe it's time to take a baby aspirin and come back to this thing because I swear that I had seven or eight mini heart attacks today. 

Seriously....

[Be right back] 

Maybe I'll feel better now....

First thing I do in the morning is weigh myself. 

I have gained 1.4 pounds!!! 

That nearly put me in the running for a mini-stroke.  That had better be water weight...

Sigh....after six months have having the scale go backward, upward movement is a little shocking. 

I'd just invested in new clothes, too!!! 

*****

Then I tried to darken my hair,  the strawberry blond is still the same color.  That's probably because I use a lot of conditioner and protein filler to keep my hair from breaking.  The dye didn't take. 

My hair is the same color but now my hair is curlier! 

This made me sad.  Now, I'm worried about getting ridiculed in the next meeting.  I still can't figure out why a boss at a non-profit gives a crap about the texture of my hair.  Seriously.....

I really want to get some more experience in the field.  I've got to find another job with less vain bullies. 

It was hard not to freak out when I saw myself in the mirror.  I guess I could wear that obnoxious Ariana Grande wig to work tomorrow so I can give them something to criticize me for. 

*****

As a divorced woman, I tend to avoid cleaning out stuff because it evokes too many bad memories.  This past eleven months, I've lost over 20 people (friends, family, acquaintances) so going through my things and the gifts I collected over the years makes me cry. 

I managed to clean off my dresser.  It's weird what random junk reminds us of.  

When I was married, I lost a lot of hair due to the stress.  I found an unopened bottle of minoxidil.  I'd forgotten I bought it.  Never used the stuff.  It was easier just to hide from the ex and his family. 

There are thousands of scrunchies to tame the beast that is my hair.  

I think I should pierce something, too.  I have lost more earrings than I care to count but somehow managed to save one of each pair. 

My jewelry box is 5' tall.  That thing is stuffed with jewelry.  I don't want to clean it out.  The exes (well most of them*) bought me a lot of sparkly stuff. 

Maybe my sister can take mom's jewelry out of it and donate the rest.  

That is....well....if I can be sure there isn't any creepy stuff in it.  Yeah, I actually did have pieces sent to me from the estates of alleged practitioners of the dark arts. 

Maybe giving it to my sister isn't such a hot idea after all. 

Don't want to give her a mini-heart attack. 

*****

I did find the orange notebook I had in high school where I wrote the Vogon poetry about subjects that really weren't as much fun as I thought they would be. 

The dreams have finally stopped.  I don't want to get back to dreaming of the star of the Vogon poetry. 

(Can't write poetry?  Neither can I.  This link from the BBC cracks me up.  You might like it.  Have fun!!  BBC - Cult - Hitchhiker's - Vogon Poetry Generator ) 

At this point I gave up cleaning and went online shopping. 

*****

I bought my youngest sister something that I know she'll want.  This is the one that wants to chase me around with botox.  I don't want botox.  She does her own botox and it scares me when I see her and her face looks swollen. 

The device below helped me get rid of a varicose vein (from crossing my legs and kicking them when  annoyed by jerks in power).  Red will help minimize wrinkles.  Blue will kill bacteria and cause veins to temporarily retreat. It also is a massager.  That's when I think I nearly had another mini-heart attack. 

When I ordered it, there was no place to mention that it was a gift or who the purchaser is.   I bought it from a factory in Korea (they always have the most cutting edge beauty stuff but when I got mine, the instructions were in Korean - not English.  I don't remember there being illustrations, either).

Now, I'm worried she's going to think it's a fancy sex toy.   

I'm debating warning her or just enjoying hearing about the fall out. 

*****

Since I've been sleeping alone, I've developed bizarre habits like sleeping with red LED lights above my canopy bed. 

I also have a Jason-esque hockey mask I wear, too. 

If I don't wear the hockey mask, I will make my own mask using aloe-vera, local honey and hold it on my face overnight using a paper cut out of a mask underneath a silicone cut out of a mask. 

If I ever find a boyfriend, I'm probably going to age overnight because I'd be too embarrassed to go to sleep looking like a chain-saw murderer. 

But for now, I can keep my wrinkles at bay. 

If the guy sticks around, he might think he got a bait and switch.  One day I'll look young and the next, well, I'll look like the old hag I really am. 

Maybe it'll be okay.  

Maybe he'll be blind or just not care.   For a guy not to care about my appearance, I'd better find some really cool talent that'll make him super happy. 

Hmmmm.......

*****

Then I tried to buy a Remarkable tablet for my business.  I decided against it because I think I'd rather have something that can record sound files. 

At this point, I realized that I hadn't bought my nephew a birthday present.  So I Googled him and found his Instagram account in the hopes I can find his public email address and, hopefully, an Amazon wishlist.  It's kinda gross that it looks like he's peeing on a fence in his profile pic. 

When he was a baby, he pee'd on me all the time.  For some dumb reason, I never figured out that I was supposed to hold a diaper pad over his wee.  I think the family let me change him for the laugh. 

I guess it's better that he gets the fence than me.  

It was when I was on my Instagram page (that I NEVER log in to since some dude I dated a long time ago was harassing me online).  

I saw an all too familiar face. 

At first I thought it was my friend Sean (the guy who owns the guitars and amps I'm babysitting while he snuggles with his wife on the east coast). 

It wasn't Sean.  It was the guy I'm avoiding online (*who thankfully never bought me jewelry.). 

Why is he following my Instagram account???!! 

That's another mini-heart attack.  

Steve is now blocked!!  He likes gossip because he can run around spreading lies and threatening to get me arrested.  The less he knows about me the better.   

It's a little creepy how much he resembles Sean. 

It's a little bit too creepy. 

I think there was another mini-heart attack when I realized that maybe it wasn't Steve I wanted to date. 

So much for being in denial.....on the bright side, Sean is married now so it's all cool.  I can go on blissfully about my life and be his friend. 

****

It's been about twenty minutes since I took the aspirin.   My head still aches and the left side of my chest still hurts. 

This could very well be a bunch of panic attacks. 

I don't know. 

I just don't know. 

Maybe I'll just take a handful of valerian and work on my resume. 

Hope your day was better than mine. 

Love ya, 

S.  

At 12:04 a.m., I found that my nephew has his own domain.  Inappropriate message sent requesting gift ideas and contact information. 

It's a new day for new solutions!

Hope today is a better day. 

Siegfred's Broken

Today I am thankful that I didn't bite it in traffic. 

I think I have to stop taking Hampden to the I-225 interchange.  This was the spot where I was struck by someone's wheel well which damaged by brakes, my suspension and caused $1,400 worth of damage a couple of weeks back. 

That's one way to meet a bunch of guys....sadly. 

Today, it was snowing.  Some dolt was speeding up behind me, I tried to move over but wound up doing a donut in three lanes of traffic leading on to a highway! 

These are donuts.....Just in case someone thinks I'm talking about junk food. 

I don't know how I didn't die nor do I know how my car didn't get a scratch and everyone else was untouched by the Hypnomobile. 

Maybe I missed my calling - 

perhaps I'd have a better career for myself as a stunt driver. 

Well - maybe in a horror film. 

My driving IS scary.

*****

My job is getting annoying.  The boss lady is now getting other people recruited into mobbing me.  

This started when I told her I'd be getting licensed as a counselor (she isn't).  It began as slights during meetings.....they're not going to train me unless I agree to work an additional 20 hours a week as an intern (I'm an hourly employee).....then complaints about my curly hair.....demands I straighten it.....having people tell me that when I'm not around, she'll claim that my credentials are worthless (so I cc'd her on an email from the State Government to refute her claim...). 

Oh, and I'm not allowed to take time off for new training courses mandated by the State of Colorado.  so, I find myself going to school for seven hours before driving an hour to work and working my shift. 

This IS insane.  As far as I know, I am the only person being denied my ability to go to school and study coursework that will benefit the organization.  

Now it is just getting weirder. 

She tried to intimidate me in private.  She told me "I never fit in anywhere"....she said other stuff, too.  Weird, bizarro stuff.....like I scare people (who, what, where, how and why? maybe it's my hair, sometimes it takes on a life of it's own.)  

Sigh.....

I'm sat in her office wanting to break out into a childhood rendition of 

Nobody likes me.....

everybody hates me.....

think I'll eat some worms....

Fat ones....skinny ones....

big, round and juicy ones...

How cute!  Someone actually recorded the song!!! 

Hmm......the adult me is now wondering if that playground song was really about worms.  

Perhaps it's describing women who become promiscuous due to the need for approval. 

(((( shudder )))) 

She's trying to dictate what I do off the clock (not allowed to go out in public or volunteer unless it is absolutely necessary.....again, we help addicts...if I volunteer to help homeless addicts, guess what resources I'm gonna learn that will help her in the long run?)

Now, I've been mobbed by colleagues saying my degrees are worthless because the boss said so at a meeting when I was not present.... 

Only to get a huge raise the next day. 

Yesterday, I had a woman criticize me for thirty minutes (after I clocked out) because I (get this) Work Too Hard!!!!!  She wants me to let her do my work so I can leave earlier. 

She's not qualified to do that work.  

The woman also complained that I won't tell patients about petty rules when they're telling me about their suicidal thoughts.  Um....hello?  The woman works on the night shift so it could be possible she wasn't quite awake.  

These are brilliant folks.  I'm just a little bit shocked at how far they're willing to go to get their jollies. 

Part of me wants to stay and put up with the games just to see what prize I'm gonna get next. 

Workplace bullying kinda seems like domestic violence.  There's a build up before a disturbing event and then a huge gift given out of guilt. 

Maybe I can get a diamond, a new car,  my own book deal or even a severance if I stick around long enough.....

(just teasing...)

Or I could just go back into private practice at the office I still rent and see my own clients. 

((( my life is soooo hard...lol ))) 

Few people are fortunate enough to have all the options I have.  I should just walk away.  

It just sucks that I care for my patients so much that I'll tolerate abuse before I abandon them.  I'd rather be the target than them.  Addiction tears its victims down so much a jack-nut therapist really doesn't need to tear them down further before building them up.  Heaven help these militant clinics if I ever win a seat in the house. 

In the past, patients were the targets. Better me than them. 

Sadly, this bullying situation is actually starting to wear me down. 

 I used to have a workplace bully website and blog but I took it down because I posted a lot of emails I got from someone's governmental workplace bully.  The city attorney asked me to take it down. 

I did. 

I may have to put that website back online. 

The older I get, the funnier this shit becomes.  

It's annoying....but funny.  

*****

There has been this absolutely huge box on my living room floor for four days.  

I know there is a guitar in it. 

There is also a box with several pick guards (couldn't decide), hummingbird decals, picks and strings that came in the mail, too. 

I've never opened them. 

At this point, I'm realizing that my job is making me depressed. 

Usually, when presented with anything even remotely musical, I feel like a kid at Christmas and the box is torn to tiny shreds as I play with my new toy. 

To steal a lyric from Duran Duran....

"I like noise." 

I correlate noise with fun 

(probably why the last guy had to go.....yeah, he expected me to be super quiet....all....the....time....) 

This one.....

is still in it's box. 

I have decided I'll name it Tom. 

I'm going to sit with this. 

Seriously - this has never happened.  I even get excited with they hand out kazoos at birthday parties. 

I didn't think it was even remotely possible that I'd let a guitar sit in a box in my living room without touching it. 

Maybe I should make this a game.....

I wonder how long I'll last without tearing open the box or bringing a new one home. 

I bought the Fender Precision during Covid, too.  That was the first guitar I ever bought online.  Everything has always come home with me out of a box.  I buy it, put it in a case and take it home. 

 It's weird getting a guitar in a box.  

Musical instruments are like pets I adopt.  We don't buy them in boxes.  We find one we like, take it and give it a home.  

Maybe this is the problem.  Maybe I'm afraid the Ibanez is gonna suck like the Recording King. 

Or maybe I'm depressed. 

To be honest about it, I'm literally shocked that the young artists living here having taken it and hid it from me yet. 

Strange.....

Maybe I'll open it tomorrow.  It'll make it a Valentine's Day to remember. 

Yeah - Feb. 14th is the worst day on the planet.  

Maybe I'll find another old spinster and take her out to dinner. 

Are restaurants open? 

I wonder.....

If not, we can make slushies or somethin'. 

It's still snowing.  

Whatever you decide to do,

may you have a happy VD day, too. 

S. 

Next day edit:  So I opened the box after I took an older single woman out to dinner. 

He was almost perfectly tuned and he sounds pretty darn good. 

Tom's a handsome guitar.  

I'll probably stay up until 6:00 a.m. singing sonnets about fake, insecure weirdos in positions of power.

Maybe not - my dog doesn't know how to howl so he'd probably just start crying.  My singing sucks but he actually cries when I play classical music.  He looks at me like I'm nuts when I play my bass without an amp. My miniature poodle basengi mix likes Reggae.  Maybe I should learn some tunes. 

I wonder what his puppyhood was like?  He can't howl.  We've had him about eighteen months and he's just learned to bark.  

Dogs are too good for the human race.  It's hard to imagine how asshats can hurt dogs.  

As long as I live and breathe, he'll never have to live in a cage without socialization ever again.  

Hugs, 

S. 

Sith Eyes and Misunderstandings (with edit)

 

Today I am thankful that I have a bizarre way of seeing the world in which we live. 

I think the lack of REM sleep is messing with my perception.  Driving to work yesterday, I caught a glance of myself in the rear view mirror and didn't see green or brown eyes. 

My eyes were yellow!  They weren't glowing -but- my pupils were yellow!! 

Never seen that before.  When they thought I had a liver tumor, the whites of my eyes were yellow. 

My pupils have never been yellow! 

Maybe the road rage and shitty driving in Denver is turning me to the dark side. 

Hmmmm.......

Yeah, sadly if I were a Sith Lord, I'd probably be a lot like Jar Jar.   Terrifying, eh? 

*****

I've been a little bit weirded out for the past few months. 

The past three weeks have been a tad bit comically disturbing.  

It started with strange feedback from my boss. 

(Sorry....had an emergency and had to log out....I guess it's time that I finish that thought....).

About two weeks ago, I was called into a meeting with my boss; lovely lady, super smart, and I suspect she does miraculous things with the pittance she gets from corporate. 

I can sense she cares for people deeply.  

Ever meet those people with the stern exterior and the ultra soft center?  Some of those people think they have to get extra tough on the outside because they seem to believe that everyone sees them for who they truly are. 

I met a couple of retired Denver Broncos who act that like. 

It's not due to head injuries.  It's just their nature. 

My boss is like that. 

This meeting was very bizarre. 

It started out as a conversation about my energy. 

I was informed my energy made a couple of people (patients and colleagues alike) uncomfortable. 

When I asked what it was about my energy that made people uncomfortable, 

She had no answer. 

When I asked if it were impacting my performance. 

She said "yes." 

When I asked how my performance was being impacted, I was given no answer. 

She said that I never fit in at this job or the one I had prior to the job I hold now. 

She asked if anything had happened in my life to impact my mood. 

I just told her that people I was close to died.  

I didn't say I lost 20 people in nine months and have a friend dying of kidney failure and that I am not a match. 

I just told her people died. I could be depressed. I've got meds.  I looked at her in such a way to say that if she goes much further with the conversation, she'd be in red legal territory. 

Her retort was that people that she knows have died, too. 

Then she wanted to know about the practicum I need to do and why I have an issue doing one at no pay with the company I work for full time.  

I didn't tell her that Colorado Wage and Hour told me to hire an attorney.  I told her she may want to look into the recent law changes regarding internships.  You cannot have an employee sign up to work 20 extra hours per week at no pay without being at risk of a lawsuit (and thus paying out fines, overtime and interest).  I won't do anything that would put her in that situation. 

I think we agreed to disagree.  She doesn't know this but if I sign a contract, I will honor it.  I won't sign anything that could put an entity I care about at risk.  Those new laws are born out of the government not wanting to be cheated out of payroll taxes.  

Me?  I can get a practicum anywhere.  Besides, yesterday I was informed I need to go back into private practice to get what I need to qualify for licensure within the next five months.  Not sure how that is going to look. 

Getting back to the meeting, I left with the notion that I was acting depressed. 

She told me to put on a happy face.  

Seriously?  If there is ever a group of people who can read other people, it is people in recovery.  

I'd rather be authentic. 

I decided to amp up my "energy" rather than pretend to be enthusiastic.  

This was done by going back on the Adderall and drinking several cans of Bing each day. 

*****

Nine days later, I'm working on the weekend.  It's a busy day.  We had new patients, one of whom seems to be a hypochondriac and wanting my colleague to break a lot of rules and do a lot of things that wouldn't really help. 

I'm not a nurse. 

I know a beautiful nurse at the last place I worked.  She's the one that inspired me to adopt Houston. 

I called her. 

The nurse and her CNA helped me help the patient understand that what was wanted wasn't necessary. 

They told me they missed me.  I asked about my "energy" and mentioned that I had a complaint about it. 

I was told that they didn't see depressed energy in me.  I worked too hard.  

They'd welcome me back with open arms. 

Later in the day, my colleague started to complain about my "energy."  I was in a rush.  My energy felt "anxious" to her and it stressed her out. 

At that point, I identified the source of the complaints. 

I started to laugh. 

That was when I told her that I had a complaint about my "energy" and was led to believe that it was due to my acting depressed.  With that in mind, I'd been hyping myself up on caffeine, ginseng, an old school antidepressant and a prescribed amphetamine (those were the prescription medications I stopped taking in November because I didn't like how they made me feel.)

Now, I totally hyped myself and was stressing her out!!! 

I told her that when she's a boss to remember that if she complains about someone's energy, she ought to define the problem or else risking it compounding. 

The next day, she figured out what I was trying to say. 

I didn't take the drugs.  I didn't drink the Bing.  

I was boring old Siegfred with yellow-green (non-glowing) eyes.  

Perhaps those energy drinks are evil (just teasing). 

I probably just need to change my eye make-up or get colored contact lenses.  

Sith eyes would make anyone uncomfortable. 

Love ya lots, 

S.   

Finally Figuring Out the Lesson (with edits)

While looking into the brown eyes of an adorable guy flirting with me at a pharmacy in a mountain town last night, I finally figured out the lesson in the bizarre dreams of an ex. 

It took a while for me to get there, though. 

During the last Mercury Retrograde, I had decided to change one thing about me each week to make myself available to date. 

My plan was to stop wearing fake wedding rings.  I wanted to wait until I got my 5 carat. white gold white sapphire ring from Germany so I could wear it before giving up the habit I developed in 2006. 

The ring never arrived.  

I blame COVID and the grip it has on the postal service. 

Today I wore a gaudy huge pink opal set in silver. 

That habit doesn't stop the flirting. 

I like the jewelry so......

not sure I'm gonna give that up quite yet. 

*****

After another creepy dream, I awoke and wondered what I'm doing differently now than I did in the days before I met the star of the dreams. 

I liked to wear dresses.  

As a girl, I'd beg my mother to get me dresses.  My mother and aunties would sew them for me.  Then, I'd get in trouble because I'd wrestle with the neighbor boys in their artistic creations. 

When my parents died, I started to earn my own money and bought my own dresses. 

My favorite dress was a bright yellow sweater dress.  It was pretty.  It was warm.  Guys seemed to carry my books around waist level when I wore it. 

I loved that dress until a guy made a comment about my curves.  He also thanked me for not laughing at him when his body betrayed his thoughts about me in that yellow dress.  

I stopped wearing that dress all the time.  I had others, though.  

I wore them throughout my relationship with the guy in the dreams. 

We broke up. 

I was sexually assaulted by a married friend of my sister. 

I stopped wearing dresses because it made it all too easy to take stuff I didn't want to give up. 

I wore a dress on my wedding day.  I wore one for a family photo in 1998. 

Other than that, I rarely wore dresses until 2011. 

That year, I was in the spotlight.  I began my wrap dress collection.  The sexiest feeling in the world is wearing a wrap dress with thigh high stockings. 

Sigh....

I must have fifty dresses or so.  

I wore them nearly daily until a fall day in 2012. 

An idiot got himself off and ejaculated on me.  Some of his spluge hit my right leg.  I was wearing my favorite dress from Hawaii. 

It was traumatizing.  

Since that day, I've maybe worn three dresses because of that disgusting memory.  When I wore them, it was when I was on a date with the guy I was seeing at the time.  I knew he wouldn't try to waste his genetic material like that. 

I can't seem to put a dress on without wanting to vomit. 

Dresses are sexy.  

Last night, I figured that I needed to start wearing them again. 

Last night (well, yesterday morning) I stayed up until 6:00 a.m. ordering dresses from boutiques across the ocean. 

There was really nothing better to do as I was trying to avoid sleeping due to the creepy dreams. 

The creepy dreams were still there but they were filled with images of hot dresses in the background. 

I focused more on the clothes than the person in the dreams. 

I awoke with the feeling that I'm going to need to invest in shoes with less than a 5" heel. 

*****

Then, minds are busy. 

They like to think (well, they do if we're lucky). 

They like to question. 

I wondered why I would want to wear dresses if I were asexual and not wanting to be sexy at all. 

Maybe asexuality is just an excuse to stay away from men. 

I wondered about that.....

finally realizing that most men I've allowed myself to know were asshats. 

I'm patient to a fault and typically pass the tests that idiotic jerks give us to see who will put up with their crap. 

After my last marriage died and my friend of three years turned into a maniac once he proposed to me and I asked him to slow down.......

I swore off men. 

Love is too nutty. 

It is too crazy. 

I don't have the kind of time it's going to take to tolerate anyone else stealing from me, ruining my credit or driving me into bankruptcy. 

This isn't even mentioning the mental gymnastics of trying to understand the mind games. 

I have no time for that crap right now. 

Life is too darn short. 

It sucks being alone. 

Being alone is easier than being lonely as part of a couple. 

*****

My subconscious mind must be sharing a difference of opinion. 

Everyone that followed that first love has been insane. 

If it gave me too many dreams of Steve,

or Michael, 

Or Ross,

I'd just cement my celibacy. 

I haven't dreamt of Steve since he got weird at a Phish concert and sold my tickets out from under me leaving me alone in the cheap seats. 

I'll dream of Michael begging for a second chance (NO!).  I have those dreams about once every three years or so. 

Once in a while, I'll dream of Ross trying to have an orgy with aged women who resemble me (ICK!). That usually happens when his wife or daughter complains about his endless affairs to me. 

My subconscious mind has to take me way back before I decided to be patient with jokers. 

It will always take me to that first relationship (which kinda feels creepy).  This guy never hit me, threatened to kill me, threatened to stalk me, stole from me or any of that crap that permeated the three guys who followed him. 

He took me to church and was pretty much an angel (well....that's my story and I'm sticking to it.) 

It's almost as though my subconscious mind is sick of me making excuses and wasting my life away alone in my bedroom with my bass guitars, saxophones, recording equipment and hordes of books. 

In fact, I'm typically bruised because I sleep with hardcover books. I fall asleep reading. 

Between the cuts and bruises on my body from sleeping on textbooks and the acoustic foam that covers my bedroom walls, people must think I'm into some pretty funky stuff. 

Sigh....

Since it'll take a couple of weeks for the new wardrobe to get here, 

I'll have to give some thought to what else I can do to try to shift my thinking about men. 

I've avoided them so much so that I only work with women. 

Something must've shifted in my energy if a cowboy flirted with me. 

I have a leather riding coat rom my cowgirl days. 

I never wear it after some jerks shot up a school in 1999. 

No one told me I'd have to visit a mountain town today to pick up stuff for a patient.  Horse towns are pretty much the only place I could wear that coat without people thinking I'm a dominatrix. 

That was a lost opportunity. 

Maybe if I stop being a celibate prude, the dreams will finally go away. 

*****

I don't know what happened today. 

Maybe my new shampoo has weird chemicals in it. 

I just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. 

My hair is strawberry blonde!! 

What the heck? 

That could be why he flirted. 

Damn....

If I go back to get more stuff for the patient, I'm going to wear a cowboy hat. 

I'm gonna have to dye the heck out of my hair this weekend. 

Maybe it's true that blondes have more fun. 

May you enjoy yourself no matter what you do (unless your hurting other people - may you hate that so much that you stop it) 

I'm off to sleep. 

Three hours of sleep a day makes it hard to hold a congealed thought. 

Can't you tell? 

Love you lots, 

S. 

Next day edit: 

I don't think I typed the lesson.  The lesson comes from a memory of the star of my nightmares. 

The last time I saw him, he said that "there is no one worth dating." 

That's the lesson.  

If I don't mourn love, 

  If I don't wish for it, 

 If I don't date - the dreams won't have anything on me. 

I used to just do stuff for the sake of doing it. 

It's time I just do that - 

make every day an adventure in it's own right. 

Que Sera Sera. 

I'm not gonna worry about who hears what and when. 

Hugs, 

S. 

Edit: 2/15/2021 - I think that was the lesson.  For the past nine days, I'll dream of dresses and guitars.  I'm not dreaming of men from my past. 

The lesson is to do stuff for the sake of doing it. 

Be free and live every moment. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Edit: 2/16/2021 - Crap, I spoke too soon.  This dream was funny.  

The guy from my past (who is now looking a little more distinguished, if you catch my drift) is looking at me with those disturbing watery eyes and head tilted to the left.  

I spy a thin, blonde woman with wavy hair and a wedding band behind him and I point at her as if to remind him who he needs to be looking at. 

Then I wonder if that's his wife 

- or some else's.  

Even my dream self is a tad bit stupid.  If I hadn't woken up, the dream could have included someone getting punched out for kissing someone else's wife. 

Yikes. 

I awaken to remember another horrible thing my younger self did to this person.  

Actually, I was proud of myself. 

So, when a certain human being was sixteen years old.  He had a bit of turbidity that he somehow thought was my responsibility.  We were completely clothed and I had three bedrooms (yeah, I really did). 

We were in the yellow room with portraits of bass guitarists on the walls (Bootsy Collins, Billy Gibbons, Paul McCartney, John Taylor, Sting, Michael Anthony and that awesome whiskey bottle bass...who else?  I don't remember....seems to me I had a picture of Randy Rhodes, too - not a bassist but a heck of a guitarist.  Oh yeah, there was also a picture of me dressed in a zebra print top with a red sweater posing with drums for some stupid reason.  Wonder where that picture went? Hmmmm.....).  

I remember trying to show him my saxophones, Peavey and the laughable broken guitar my dad gave me.  

I didn't try to make out in that room.....ever.  I didn't want to ruin my collection of expensive toys.  

He's complained about his condition. Without a word, I handed him a box of tissues and walked out of the room. 

I returned to find a trio of unused tissues crumbled on my bed. 

There could be a reason this guy doesn't talk to me. 

See?  Dating me was a nightmare! 

Hope your daughters have the same kind of self-restraint (that is if you have teenage daughters.). 

Love ya, 

S.  

Bizarre Synchronicity (with edit)

I'd say I burned all the things I have but I can't do that because in my religion, burning somethign with another person's energy is a cruel lust spell.  I either returned it, donated it or buried it under a tree.  It sucks to be a spiritual nutcase. 

 

Today I am thankful for an old saying.  

It's just a shame that I can't remember it. 

I'll just paraphrase. 

It's been said that the divine will present you with the same experiences over and over until you learn the lesson. 

I obviously haven't learned a darn thing because 

the dreams are still there. 

I can use hypnosis to mess with what I remember. 

It may offend a certain person to say that I remember dreaming of him as a stubborn goat. 

Well, maybe not....

he kinda looked like Pan. 

Maybe it's not an insult. 

It could be kinda hot in a twisted Pagan sort of way. 

Maybe? 

Damn.....

It's Mercury Retrograde. 

I've decided to drink a shot of vodka every night to sleep deeper for the next three weeks.  What is happening is that I'm delaying sleep in an effort to delay the dreams. 

I fell asleep at 6:00 a.m. and woke up at 9:30 a.m. 

This can't be good for my health. 

*****

This morning while driving home from work and wondering what to name the new guitar, 

I flip on the radio 

and heard....

Four, 

Three, 

Two, 

One....

Earth below us....

Drifting...

Falling...

Floating Weightless... 

Calling Calling Home....

I know someone who needs a drink sent up to her. 

Gee Whiz!! 

Maybe I need to take a lyric from that song and fly away. 

Or, perhaps, the message is that I have to name the guitar Major. 

That could be a cute musician joke. 

Hmmmm......

There is no winning this thing, is there? 

I'll raise the white flag. 

I surrender. 

Sigh.....

I'll probably put up with the dreams until I die. 

May all your dreams be pleasant and may only the good ones come true. 

Love ya, 

S.  

Edit Two Days later: 

Oh - 

I had to go somewhere in a hurry and flipped on the car radio...

do you want to know what song immediately made me laugh?? 

Maybe I'm supposed to name the new Ibanez Major Diner? 

I'll probably break down and name it Tom. 

It's a boring guitar and a common name....

Maybe it needs a hummingbird or some ivy graphics on it to make it unique. 

I don't know.  All I know is that the universe has a wicked sense of humor. 

Hugs, 

S. 

Ugh - It's Mercury Retrograde Again

 

Today I am thankful for shopping.  

So - 

I'm still having creepy dreams. 

Luckily, in the recent dreams he's just watching. 

I'm doing boring stuff like cleaning and 

trying to bury watches (getting rid of the past). 

But - 

It's creepy. 

I decided to do some online shopping. 

I bought too much - 

seven gaudy sterling silver rings, 

ten gaudy sterling silver necklaces, 

eight earrings (one diamond), 

one blue sunburst Ibanez acoustic-electric performance guitar (hope it sounds better than the basses), 

a couple of gig bags, 

a flash epilator, 

a trench coat, 

some matching underwear sets (don't know why - it's not like anyone will see them - well, with the way I drive, paramedics will probably see them), 

some hot ginger body cream (because I have a delusion it'll help me lose weight). 

I shouldn't have bought that last item...

The dreams are back....

I've lost three more pounds this week. 

Seventeen pounds to go. 

Not sure what to type. 

The only thing I learned today is that I'm trying to use my Christmas bonus to fill the painful hole in my damn heart. 

Have you ever had a dry socket?  You know - people get them when they have a tooth pulled and do too much of a good job cleaning the wound so it doesn't heal properly. It just leaves the root  exposed and every breath makes a person scream out in pain. 

That's what my heart feels like. 

The pain is made worse by the dreams. 

If I don't think about it, the pain just turns into this dull angst that I use to inspire artsy stuff to do. 

The dreams make it worse. 

I dream of an old friend as an alcoholic/drug addict. 

Given my work, the pain is intolerable. 

I left him so he could be happy.  I wasn't pretty enough, fun enough, sexy enough, exciting enough, smart enough, wasn't the right kind of Christian and wore the wrong kind of shoes. 

During the most challenging time of my life, when I was in the public eye, he was a major dick to me and tried to embarrass me publicly in front of reporters, real musicians and real politicians. 

Not to mention the people I know who like to frolic in the dark arts (well, I guess that's another way to describe politics....nevermind, I don't want to be redundant.) 

I really shouldn't give one single frick about this person. 

Sadly, I care. 

It's hard to love someone who hates you. 

For decades I prayed that my love for him would go to his girlfriend or wife or someone who could do something with it. 

Maybe I should have prayed that it went to the closest sentient being to him (perhaps a puppy?) 

I don't know. 

It shouldn't be here with me.  

It's time to be selfish and find a way to stop feeling like this. 

Shopping isn't the way to do it.  Now, I've got to clean my room and make room for the crap that'll be hitting my mailbox next week.  

There has to be a better way to fill the emptiness. 

My boss expects me not to go out in public if I don't have to do that. 

You know what, I'd have felt better if I'd have spent the money on food, water and shoes for the homeless folks down the way. 

It irritates people that I care so much for homeless folks. 

I know it pissed off my in-laws. 

It got me shoved out of any Republican volunteer gigs - not that I would help a bunch of thieves.  Sad, isn't it?  I never thought of them as thieves until they pushed their own to steal tents from homeless folks. 

I thought that was the domain of the Democrats. 

It's probably annoying my boss. 

Not sure I care what anyone thinks anymore. 

I've got more meditating to do. 

Please find your favorite gig and play it as much as you can. 

Love ya lots, 

S.