Lulu Lunacy

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...

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...

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...

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. 

Must haves:  Masks, cloth, even a bandana works.  Gloves, if you can get them without gouging into essential worker PPE.  Lysol and/or Clorox spray and wipes.  Liquid bleach. Spray bottle for mixing w/ water. Laundry detergent. Canned food/non perishables. Small freezer and CAREFULLY and gradually (no hoarding) stock it with meats & frozen veggies. Assess your household protection. Dead bolts, WORKING window locks, outdoor lighting, obstacles to window access (thorny bushes), gate locks, weaponry at your comfort level but with safety and training. Keep all vehicles locked and empty (no keys, laptops, cash, etc)  I wipe down my mailbox handle for both our protection. My mail person is a lifeline.  Keep electronics charged, extra chargers. Consider a solar charger, solar emergency radio, panels for energy to your home.  Try to keep bills paid up.  Gatorade, Powerade, Pedialyte. Stock up gradually but do not hoard. Bottled water. Of course, toile...

My Aunt & Uncle called just to tell me they'll be thinking of me tonight and tomorrow, as will I them.  A year without Momma.  I absolutely feel her absence every single day.  I still randomly grab the phone to call her, I still want to fix her a plate when I cook, I still think I need to brush my teeth, hop in the car with Toby and go sit with her at the nursing home, I still think of little treats and decorations and anecdotes to take with me and share with her.  I miss her telling me not to kill "her" spiders in the house, watching Murder, She Wrote and Hart to Hart ad nauseam. Her crush on Tom Selleck, Jeremy Renner and Captain Jack (not Johnny Depp, just Captain Jack) Sparrow.  How she tried to learn how to put my hair in pigtails, drove me to dance class (drill) for years, sewed Halloween costumes, and tirelessly (it seemed at the time, until I did it myself) packed, managed, conducted, cleaned, re-packed then unloaded and put away camping & fishin...

Dear neighbors; Don't shoot me, I'm not a commie, I just lost all my flag decorations and forgot to buy more. Luckily, I remember what Country I'm in when I wake up every day, so I've got that going for me. I used to have my cool wooden door flag, but I'm not sure I packed it 2 years ago in the absolute flurry of activity moving from Northern Utah to here.  2 J4's ago, I was in a hospital in Grand Junction while my mom had her brain tumor removed. I watched fireworks from the motel on the day of surgery (3rd) and from mom's 9th floor recovery room in GJ on the 4th. 1 year ago, my mother was on her way to completing her Earthly journey, and the very last thing I was thinking of was tacking up trinkets to appease judgy people. Again, I'm "blessed" that I can still instantly recall what Country I am in at any given moment, except for the day after I get to England or home from England.  And Denver airport.  Something's going on there, man...I ...

Them: Do you get your protection from Jesus? Me: No. Bigger than Him. Higher than Him. Them: You can't get any higher than Jesus. Me: You're welcome to stay on that level, but I not that restricted.

So late last night I was chillin' in my chair watching mah shows, and I see a dang spider skip on in through the partially open french doors, and I kid you not, run like there's a fire, all the way across my living room TOWARDS ME! I scream & jump up and yes, it's the scene out of Madagascar with the spider, only I'm telling myself, "Get it! Get it! Get it!" While this deft two-eight-stepping spider dodges my slipper and is probably yelling "Get it!" Too...Spidey dashes into a stack of boxes, right next to my recliner and uncomfortably close to my bedroom door! I couldn't find it. I went to bed and I swear, every three minutes I jerked awake convinced the spider was climbing in my hair whispering "You missed me, bitch!"  5am rolls around and my Toby needs to go out and I need to take my meds, I attend to my thyroid levels and watch the floor closely as I take Toby out. I go out and stand in the first step, Toby goes out, Stella goes...

Attention concerned friends: yes, I am mentally ill, no, I will not go on a rampage or spree and stab you, shoot you, run you down in a car, push you in front of a subway, begin taking orders from your dog, eat you, drug you, light you or your property on fire (although; *pretty*), strangle you, poison you, kidnap you, sell you, look through your garbage, steal your under things from the clothes line, throw poop at you, make you eat boogers while you sleep, alert you to the ghosts in your home only I can see, exchange your salt for sugar or vice versa. I WILL *sometimes* be a pissy pants for no reason, cry, say things that don't make sense and aren't in order, take my meds, be a recluse, not want to talk or text or even comment on FB, have pity parties for myself, be morbid, laugh inappropriately, not dress well, have weird interests, weird habits, weird urges to touch things, etc. Hear things you don't, see things you don't,  smell things you don't, talk too much o...

There is no shame in wanting to learn to do better and be a better person in whatever capacity, mom, daughter, grandparent, advocate, human, even teacher. The best teacher is one who continues to learn and allow themselves to be taught by those they teach.  What if you don't know all you need to? What if your opinion, if not wrong, may be skewed and allowing yourself to learn more to form a more informed, substantial and beneficial, useful opinion instead of hollow, aimless words rooted in emotion and lack of a realistic, factual knowledge base. What if the goal wasn't who is right and who can make others conform to his view, but who can accept there is more to learn and compromise is one of the most fantastic abilities humans possess. The world, humanity, all boils down to the same basic needs. We allow ourselves to dissect each other and categorize each other into absolute right and absolute wrong. Shutting out any flexibility and opportunities to grow, learn and build for th...