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Spiders

In our family, we each had different spider encounter roles. My dad was the designated never-sees-them-and-always-has-hands-in-crevices-in-shed-constantly-getting-bit-by-them-and-almost-dying person. My mom was the Save The Spiders, Save The World hippie spider activist who named them, spoke to them, protected them and took them outside safely on pieces of paper while narrating their journey, person. My younger brother was the blood curdling screaming, flailing, throwing objects, blind with terror, using any chemical he could get his hands on to destroy them person. I was the Spider Killer Ninja Death Dealer In Chief. I killed silently while mom's back was turned and left the room before she new it. I waited three days to execute "Harry" (she named them all Harry) that had spun a web and taken up residence in our groovy assed 70's amber glass & brass floor lamp. She thought he'd just moved away. I killed him so deftly I left the web entirely intact and unmoles...
Recent posts

just for myself

Went to group therapy. Ended up crying about a personal situation. pulled it together to go shop for some foodies. Cried again when I got home.  Remembered the guy in group who told me to tell myself I was a good person as he slid the box of tissues over to me...decided for the rest of the day I'll tell myself I am a good person and remember some good things I've done and that I'm not a monster.  I was and am hurt. My original situation that caused the rift is over and I did what I could with what I had. I followed my mom's wishes to a T. I haven't done anything wrong but convey how I perceived a situation. Maybe I was wrong to be upset about how others chose to acknowledge...and not acknowledge, my mother's passing. I Was in the early days of grief and angrily pushed people away. In all honesty I had been in grief since mom got her diagnosis as it was terminal and could have been 2 weeks or 2 years and I was determined to do exactly what my father asked me to d...

Denver airport 2019

​ Good morning from Denver, yes, Denver. The weather turned, the plane was late (or we'd have been okay) and two hours after scheduled liftoff, they told us we were canceled AFTER all our phones had alerted us first! Mayhem ensued. I had to weigh staying the night in the airport while severely sleep deprived or waste 2 hours getting a room and taxi. I did that. Have had some sleep. Rebooked for 9 AM. I'm probably 30 mins from Denver airport, but I took my meds and feel calmer and more focused. I have no idea how long I went without them. Took them last at 9 PM England time on Wednesday. Finally took them 1AM Thursday morning (earlier this morning) I've never done anything like this on my own, I'm frazzled, tired and nervous (scared!) I just want to get home so badly. My bag is oversized and might be held back for a later flight, but that's so okay at this point. *One good occurrence...I SAW BLUCIFER IN ALL HIS GLORY with a light sleet surrounding him, looking magnif...

People

I will only say this: I choose people. Living, breathing, feeling, complicated, beautiful, real people.  Not myths, stories, rigid man made and man enforced rules, no fables and tales and unproven and/or unprovable contradictory beings.  I choose free thinking and self awareness and individuality and learning and growing and questioning.  Experience life, eat what you want, live where you want, love who you want, wear what you want, sing, softly or loudly, dance, slowly or wildly, read, watch, listen, touch, drink, walk, run, grow your hair, shave your head, wear bright pink liberty spikes, kiss your teenager in public, eat breakfast for dinner, eat a banana split in bed watching porn, shop on Sunday, curse, don't curse, make up swear words, listen to metal, listen to Vivaldi, let your daughter wear Fruit of the Loom tighty whiteys or you son wear Barbie sparkle panties. Let the dog eat off your plate, help someone who's locked their keys in their car, rescue a pet from a...

Ruined.

If Facebook becomes my confessional and therapy, so be it. Following on yesterday's (or the day before) thinly veiled revelation of being hired as an "exotic dancer" in between the births of both of my daughters, firstly I'll tell you, in most cases, the generally believed theories about why women go into sex work and accurate. It's the attention. It's daddy issues. It's men issues period. When we're molested, raped, abused, used, especially by close, trusted family, we experience the horrible sensation of having no control over our own lives, no control over our own bodies, and often, no way to get away from the abuse. So how do some of us regain control over our own bodies? Using it to make men pay, literally.  My need for control didn't end there. Because men's need to continue to abuse and use me didn't end.  Do you know the one thing I did to myself that 100% effectively gave me absolute control and protection of my own body? I got fuc...

My 9/11 recalled

The morning of September 11th 2001, I was living with my parents in our family (my childhood) home in Layton, Utah, with C, S (my daughters) part time, and all our collective dogs (4) & cat (Miss Flower). It was a school day. I didn't allow either of my girls to go to school.  My dad came to my bedroom door and simply said "A plane has crashed into the World Trade Center." I knew by his voice and his experience (career Air Force, three tours to Vietnam and a surrounding island during the Vietnam War) that he didn't think this was a bizarre accident. I voiced that thought myself, "That's not an accident." As I came down the stairs watching the horrific scene unfold on live TV news. He just looked at me in agreement. My parallel thought to this waking news was, "I need the girls with me." C was with me, in the same room in the same bed, just now waking up. S...that's a long story, but in short, I was driving to pick her and her little dog...

Thought...

I asked myself recently if it had been my dad and not mom that lived on after May 2007, and he then came down with something as disastrous as mom's brain tumor, necessitating that I be put in a position to be the logical choice to move out here. I thought on this, but it was brief. There isn't much to weigh. Despite everything. The fear, the pain, the shame, the destruction... I would have done it anyway.  It would be a huge adjustment, for both of us. I can only imagine the awkwardness, silences, tiptoeing, recalled trauma, constant triggers, horrible memories.  But in a way, I want that experience. What would he have said, done? How would that have even played out? Would it even have come up? Or would it end exactly how it did in May 2007, with not a word spoken, not a gesture, not a hint something was written down somewhere, ...nothing written down and stashed away somewhere. No apology, not even an acknowledgment.