Thursday, December 7, 2017

If YOU don't live your dream, Who Will?

Livin the Dream

To all my Hippies.....

      When you've survived a few situations and people, you get a different feel for life. It doesn't mean that the depression and anxiety suddenly go away, it just means that you struggle to try a little harder to enjoy and appreciate the simple things.

It doesn't come easy or overnight. It takes practice.

A lot of practice. 

And then you reevaluate things and set a new course. Living. Real living. Breathing easier.
Feeling happier. Letting go of the weight on your shoulders. Making memories.

Feel things.
Enjoying love a little more, by loving.

  Enjoy giving and helping. 
Be forgiving.

There's enough money in the world 100x over but not enough food and love.
Is that not tragic? What makes some so special that they got a million times more than what they need, but there's a million people who would take a drop of that?
There's not enough happy vibes and fresh air and full bellies and warm beds.

There IS enough people following other people's dreams. You don't have to follow your parents or your friends or the Jones'.

Those are their dreams. And heck, they might not have been following theirs to begin with either.
That's Bob's dream. You don't even know Bob. Fuck that guy.

You're grandpa's neighbor was a lawyer, so you're grandpa wanted to out-do him and be a doctor, and now you're in Medical School and a billion dollars in debt and insurance companies with big greedy grins shaking your hands and you just want to raise sheep, and you're miserable all because of some asshole that used to live next door to your grandpa. Go be a damn sheepherder!

 Who's stopping you?

Whatever you do, be the one that thought of it. Don't do it because someone else wants you to, do it because you want to. That's not a "Get out of Jail Free Card", that's a Do Right because you should, not because someone else wants you to, because you should just be a good person. That's a "Put on your Big Girl or Boy Pants", and accomplish you're life's goals and wants. Make them your own.

Don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't live your dream, because it's YOUR dream.

Love to you all you batshit crazy homies too.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

When I Was Three

When you analyze your life’s events, sometimes you begin to create time lines in sync with different topics. When did the body pain start? When did the chronic physical pain start? So many questions of ‘When did I get that symptom again’? My mental pain came first. I was 3.

I say that, because it’s one of my first memories. I don’t remember a whole lot of details other than I was short, and I’m pretty sure there was a bulkiness to my pants. I either had on a cloth diaper and plastic cover, or I just had a load in my pants.  


It’s so crazy the little things that stand out clear as day, and what things a little mind can perceive but my first memory is of abandonment, and strangely enough it wasn’t even in a bad psychological or lasting way.

I was 3; my mom is home with me, and daddy’s at work. He had one of those, like real jobs at the time. My mom was a product of the 50’s; religious and healthy, and my dad came from prison, a seasoned bank robber and criminal genius, except for the getting caught part. He found God, my mom found a man, 7 years later I got a load in my pants.

So the day goes like this. My mom says that after I take a nap, were going to the movies. WOW. The BIG TV fun place! I just gotta take this nap. I gotta take this nap. I gotta take a nap. I gotta go to sleep. I gotta shut my eyes and then were going to the movies. Hippie go to sleep. Go take a nap. Yaaaaaaaaa.
So she finally gets me to go the fuck to sleep, and I’m sure she does what every mom has ever done when the kid finally goes to sleep….whatever the Hell she wants. Well, she went a few doors down and was talking to a neighbor. No biggie, it’s a small apt complex and this is the 70’s. What could possibly go wrong, right?

             Well, I’m sure while my tiny little brain was sleeping, all I could dream about is going to the BIG TV place, and I'm sure that nap didn’t last long at all. Here’s where the memory is quite vivid. She’s gone. My mom is gone. I’m all alone. I look everywhere. My mom is not in the house. This has never happened before. My mom has never been gone. I’m 3. I’ve never been alone or not remember seeing her; although I’m sure it happened a lot, like as a baby in a crib, you cry, mom comes in. It’s funny how this vivid memory starts before I even take the nap, in a way that would insinuate that my brain went to pre-record when there was trauma, as if to concrete everything you did right up to that moment.

I open the front door. I don’t see anyone. I went from scared to thinking. SHE WENT TO THE MOVIES WITHOUT ME?! WHAT?? My mom, just up and left, and went to the movies, oh. em. gee. WOOOOW!! No no no. I need to go find her, because I know she’s at the movies.

Let me just get in my ride right quick. No sweat. I got my big wheel out front. It’s going down y’all. Oh Hell no that bitch did NOT make me go to sleep so she can go to the movies. Wow. Ya, I’m rollin now.  
I got my big wheel. I’m pissed. I’m pedaling that little red and yellow bitch down the side of a road, not a sidewalk. I’m on the side of a road, trying not to ride down into the grass, and these big people in their big car-big wheels are just in my way. I’m going to that damn movie theater. I’m getting a little tired from pedaling though. It’s a long way. “Ife gone eighty two theven “blocks of stweet.”

A car stops, many cars slow down, people start yelling at me, and freaking out. I’m going to the movies y’all!! “MY MOM LEFT AND WENT TO THE MOVIES WITHOUT ME!!”

“STOP LAUGHING AT ME!” These people are straight yelling out the window of their cars while slowly driving by, or stopping and trying to get out and talk to me, and I don’t know what’s going on but I need to find my mom.
She’s At. The Movies. Without Me.
Ohhhh doggy, I was mad. I got tricked, to go to sleep, and then she goes and leaves me? And these cars are in my way, and I am one peddling fool trying to get around people.
“I know I gotta do some ‘flefts’ and some ‘flights’ and go down dat way by over dare dat way and she at the moobie feeter!”

I’m sure there was everything from laughter to angry yelling, to hysterical laughter.

Of all the times in a child’s life, in a moment of opportunity, in the depth of the underbelly of the world, the opposite of every mothers nightmare happened….a nice woman pretty much got me in the car before any creeper jumped out and grabbed me, threw my big wheel in the back seat, and drove a total of maybe 100 yards to the little apt complex that had my mom and 3 other people all freaking out in the parking lot.

Oh look, there she is!

Aaaaaaaand oh, I’m in trouble. The look on her face went from the happiest she’s ever been to see me; to the maddest I’ve ever seen her. I was pretty confused considering she just got back from the movies without me. What was she mad at me for?

“NO. I did NOT go to the movies! You were only asleep a half an hour. I just walked next door! Do you know what could have happened to you??!!”

I got the lecture of a lifetime. My mom was eternally grateful to the nice woman. It only takes a second to turn around, but fortunately someone was looking out and returned me. I wish I could say that was the last time I wondered off, but man there was something really cool about the sound of that train coming! That’s another story.

Ya know? I’m pretty fucking lucky to be alive actually. I’ll have to remember to tease my mom about that next time we talk. “Hey remember that time you went to the movies without me?” It’s sure to get a belly laugh.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

The day my hair died

It may seem like a silly thing to say, or think about, your hair dying, but that's how it looked and I felt how it looked.
This isn't a story about a bad color job, although remind me about the time I bleached it at home.

I was separated by my 1st husband of 10 years by about a year or so when I had the misfortune of bumping into The Abuser. Exactly 2 weeks later I got pregnant with twins. By the next day, I didn't even like him anymore and was going to tell him to kick rocks. Crazy how I know my body so well, I had that gut feeling to wait.

When people talk about a Wolf In Sheep's Clothing, they meant this guy. He was extra tall, blonde hair, blue eyed, muscular, and looked dead on like Prince Charming. That shoulda been my clue to fucking run. But this is where I say "I wouldn't have my twins or be where I am now if it wasn't for......ya".

Abusers don't start out like that of course! You don't see a guy being a controlling douche manipulative alcoholic misogynistic arrogant lying cheating addict cunt wagon and go "My goodness, where have you been all my life?!"

They fucking woooooooo you. (Then its a brainwashed Stockholm Syndrome and everyone thinks you're the one who's the bad guy). It's called the Honeymoon Phase. You'll have hundreds of them, more than lunar cycles I'm sure, but back to my hair.

You see, I didn't have just any hair, I had thick, very thick, very long, naturally highlighted, very kinky spiral curly hair. A long non permed mane. I loved it. I only wear it long. No short do has ever been cute and it wasn't cut for the first time until I was 13.
My daughter has it. My heart. ♡

         Not me, was longer but close enough.

Stress can do some crazy things to you physically. Not long after, I'm 5 months pregnant with twins and the abuse is front and center, and I'm having thoughts of driving off a cliff to rid the world of it all. Him, me, 2 boys who still don't know the half of what I went through to stay alive.

One day, I'm in the shower and after rinsing my hair I noticed quite a bit in my hand. It wasn't odd for me to lose a lot, but the handfuls wouldn't stop. I panicked. I got out of the shower and didn't brush my hair, just put it in a bun for fear of brushing it all off. I had been through stressful times, but never had clump after clump of hair just come off so easily. I immediately run to show him, because he's all I got! and I already know before I say anything....what the fuck does he care? Of course he doesn't. He laughed. He laughed at me being miserable stressed and carrying two babies and my hair was falling out.
He was a fucking lunatic.

The next day, I carefully unwrapped my bun and gently brushed it with my best brush from the bottom up. I pulled so many wads of hair out of the bristles. I broke some of them off trying to get it all.
And there it was. Something I hadn't noticed before.....straight roots...inches of it. There was barely a wave to it. I had straight, thin, brittle strands coming out of my head. I could see my scalp! How had I not seen this?!

I took my prenatal pills. I took my iron. I ate healthy, but this was my body pleading for help. It took me a while to listen though, and with each passing month, I was reminded that my hair had died, inch by inch. The spirit within me that lived in it was dying.
It looked so bad that people told me to fix my perm.

So I cut off all the curls, and threw the mane in the trash, along with whatever strength I had left in me and finally ran.

I did my best to feel good and figure out what to do with this lifeless mop, but I and it are one in spirit and pain. It's just "There" now, sometimes like me. The wild, adventurous untamable fire has flat lined.

It's good that time has passed and I make do with the new do. It's called the Janis Joplin now.
I marvel at how 1 boy got the thickness and 1 the thin, 1 the curls, 1 straight.
They're almost bigger than me now. It makes me glad were here.

It's still long, just slightly wavy and much much thinner. It's greying now. I tried every expensive hair product to bring it back, but resurrection was not possible. It is what it is.

Some things just need to be cut off and buried.

Friday, April 7, 2017

When there aren't enough spoons

There isn't really a short simple title that says....

I'm a Stay at home mom SAHM
I'm Disabled
We travel full time by RV (most of the year, hibernate in winter)
I home school twin boys.

I am a stay-at-home, disabled, full-time traveling, twin boy road-schooling mom. I wonder if that would fit on a business card.

I used to say "I'm an accountant". Life can throw a nasty curve ball called "I bet you thought everything was going great. Now watch this". Enter severely bad health and multiple surgeries along with a lot of DV.

The Spoon Theory

The idea behind this is that you have so many spoons for the day or week. These spoons are your energy. Some days it takes all my spoons to get out of bed. Other days I hope to still have a spoon left for sex. If my husband helps with things during the day, which he does if he can, I have spoons left for that night.
Sometimes I start the day with negative spoons, which means I can't do anything and just hope that tomorrow I wake up with one.

There are 168 hours in a week 
I'm going to average this since there are many things that only happen once a week, or once a month.

Average week: 
Sleeping = 42 hours (if I'm lucky) If I slept 8 hours a night, I would have zero time left after everything else. The less hours of sleep I get, the less spoons I wake up with. The more sleep I get, the more spoons I have, but the less time I have to do anything.
This, is the chronic pain conundrum.

Teaching home school = 25 hours (not including PE, arts n crafts, science experiments, museums, field trips, etc AND cleaning it up. 

Preparing/cooking and serving 3 meals a day = 7-10 hours (sometimes we eat out, or hub helps)

Dishes/scrubbing/sweeping/mopping and general cleaning = 10 hours weekly average at least

Laundry/grocery shopping/errands = 10 hours easy 

Traveling assistant; making 20 phone calls to campgrounds, Rv parks, motels/hotels, any place to stay, car or truck rental, mapping the route, or co-pilot, assistanting in all aspects of traveling, mapping every location along the way and places we'll need once there, finding gas stations, places to eat, laundromats, checking prices, numerous online searches, research, contracts, hiring, etc (since this doesn't happen every week, I'll say the average is) 5-10 hours 

Doctor appts = 1 hour average (unless I have to drive or fly from our job site, then its several hours, if not a day or two)

Bathing/primping/manicuring = 5 hours 

Traveling is not every week, but on average, driving time is = 5-10 (average a few days a month)

Referring, playing with and entertaining fighting twins, taking care of pets = 10 hours 

Due to chronic pain, it takes at least an hour every morning to get out of bed, take my pills, drink coffee, and pray for a good day = 10 hours, at least. If not at least an hour, I'll start throwing those 'spoons'.
Making necessary phone calls, paying bills, helping everyone do everything else = 2 hours 

So apparently I have a few hours a day to myself where much needed rest and recouperation is greatly needed. And in that space, we try to have quality time for us. 

Mind you, I am mentally (Ptsd and anxiety) and physically disabled (endo, fibro, mctd) for life, have a permanently dislocated unusable shoulder (that needs a state of the art surgery), suffer from severe chronic pain and migraines, and can not function normally on a daily basis.
It's still not always good enough. If I'm not on top of things daily, I appear lazy. 

When full blown fibro flares kick in, I am down for days at a time. Whatever my man can't help with, since he works, is all still waiting for me when I'm better. I don't have a team of helpers to do my job for me when I can't.

I just hope it's good enough.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Sherri Papini - The Saga of Pictures

I traveled to Redding for work and got a few pictures. 

The possible 'abduction' site. Corner of Sunrise Drive and Old Oregon Trail Road


The Best Buy store is in a shopping area with many businesses, restaurants, salons, clothing stores and a mall nearby. It is not far from the freeway.
View from the curb at corner of street
In a shopping plaza. There are several large businesses in the area.

AT&T Store across the street from Best Buy and next door to the mall
I'm not sure if this is the exact store he went to, but this AT&T store is directly across the street from Best Buy. 

Behind and next to the AT&T store is more shopping plazas.

 The Childrens Store next to Beauty by Thread
 The mall is a nice sized place, not too big, not too small. Mostly one story and a nice vibe. I got my eyebrows done. I'll go back to waxing. (Sorry some pictures are blurry)
 Fortunately, it doesn't seem to be suffering from multiple store closures inside like many other malls. You have to walk past the waiting area to sign in at the desk of the eyebrow store. 

I'm a Coffeeholic. I forgot why I was here.
The angle of eyebrow store is odd.

Bethel Mega Church

Bethel is massive. It has a ginormous parking lot, with areas to sit, walk, or ponder. Multiple flags and a gigantic cross adorn the drive up the hill to it. There is a small water feature and a lot of grassy areas. It's a very large building with additional structures.
This is the left side of the driveway up. There is a waterfall feature here.
On left coming up. Sanctuary type place.
This is the right side of drive up. Many flag poles and a large cross.
Front of the main building. There were other structures that I didn't want to bother the Security with questions about. :)

On right coming up, next to cross.


Lots of parking. At least 2x the size of a
Super Walmart parking lot.

The Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses in Woodland.
The Kingdom Hall is extremely close to the freeway. I'm talking maybe 150 feet to the entrance and exit. It's RIGHT there. Literally a wall/grass separates. There is a razor wire fence across the street alongside the exit ramp, that seems to have trucks, parts, or other types of things for manufacturing or orchard equipment locked up behind the fence.

The houses down the street to the east across railroad tracks are merely a 100 yards away, but could possibly have not looked inviting on Thanksgiving Morning at 4 am, when I bet some people are up about to cook a turkey. There was about a half dozen little homes. There is nothing else around. They looked like normal country houses to me. Also, the sign stating that cameras are in use at the KH may not have been there that day.

The way to the freeway is through some grass, bushes and trees, but the KH is very close to it and the angles on the camera would have picked up anyone coming near. The cameras very well could have picked up all vehicles entering and exiting the freeway quite easily since it's right next to it.
Gated parking lot with sign warning Camera's in Use. Facing W.
Over that fence and grass is the highway.
Facing S from KH. Truck yard.

Facing SE towards houses down street
Facing NE. Main entrance on other street.

Facing N. This is KH. Freeway to my left.
Back door of KH blocked by palm tree.

The KH is directly to my right.
At KH curb facing SW to exit ramp.

At KH curb facing SSE. That's all there is to see here.

Exit ramp. I-5 in distance. Likely where she was let go.
Exit ramp. KH in distance. Standing where likely let go.

Same view from exit ramp but further back.

Same houses down the street. 
The other side of overpass. Nothing

The other side of the overpass facing E towards I-5. Nothing much but orchards.
KH would be to the left of picture on other side of freeway.

Old Oregon Trail Road

This was a very pleasant drive. I got no weird vibe or kidnap feel at all. It was very quaint and quiet with nice looking country homes. This didn't seem like the druggie tweeker part of town. I would go jogging in that area in a heartbeat, and husband agreed. The Shasta community college was near and there didn't seem to be a large amount of ill kept yards, cars, plants or property.
I really didn't see a lot of trashy places at all. It was beautiful. Not the poor meth area that people are describing. Yes, Redding has it, but this area looked more like old money. Large manicured property.

A Kingdom Hall a few miles from her house on OTR.
A few miles before Sunrise Dr.

More Oregon Trail road.

Some folks have a great view.

Just random sprawling lovely homes.

A few miles each way, OTR winds around from the highway.
There are 2 ways at least to their house, the freeway, or scenic way.

Oregon Trail Road where it meets Sunrise Drive to the left. The possible abduction site.


I must have missed the part where everyone said this was a gravel road. It's a gravel road.
A few flat sections, but it's gravel and dirt, and you HAVE to pass the mail boxes to pull in, if you're coming in this way, so if he didn't see her when he pulled in, I don't know what would make him go back there to look for her. Its possible that he took an alternate route in.
Other than the Find My Wife tracker app, I wouldn't have thought to drive her car back/to to the mail box, but that had to be the reason. It's a few country roads in, based on what direction you're traveling from and several gravel roads back to their house along with several other houses and other gravel driveways in and out everywhere back there.
The case has said where the phone was found, so that's the area I focused on. There were many homes in the mile from the road to their house, and in not wanting to get arrested for trespassing, I didn't drive up to their door :)

There are several double wide mobile and manufactured homes. I barely saw any stick built, other than the nice one for sale. I wonder how long it's been on the market. I didn't even see any house that would have been described as 'tweeker', even houses off a main road, off a back road, off a gravel road...still didn't look that trashy.

Not a kidnappy unsafe area. No seedy random back road that presumed female Middle Americans went speeding away on with a screaming white girl in the back. Nothing about that area said 'random'. If you plug in the opposite of that, in case you're trying to throw everyone off, you get one rich white guy in a BMW. The fact that Cameron Gamble said that it looked dangerous and he would never let his wife go jogging in that area is laughable.

It looked so quiet and boring that one would probably make up things to do.

The following are several shots taken from a moving vehicle on a bumpy road. It is what it is. There wasn't tons to see through the trees either.

The Mailboxes at the entrance to Sunrise Drive are on the left. Here, we are leaving, so on right.

On Sunrise Drive facing Old Oregon Trail Road.

Bad view of Sunrise Drive entrance. OTR in background.

View of grassy area behind mailboxes. OTR in background.

On Sunrise Drive as if leaving, coming up on mailboxes and covered area.

Beginning of mailbox area on Sunrise Drive going towards OTR.

Mail box area on Sunrise Drive. Not sure how easy to find a phone here.

Right past the mailboxes before you get to Oregon Trail Road

Corner of Sunrise Drive and Old Oregon Trail Road. Possible 'abduction' site.

Leaving Sunrise Drive. View to left


Sticker on car

Headed towards the University. Bethel is back the opposite way.

Main entrance to Simpson University

Main entrance

A few random school buildings.

This is in a large grassy area at the end of the main entrance. There are several acres of lush grounds complete with duck ponds and walkways.


Road Trip

On our way to Redding. This is the small airport.

The TA truck stop that Christine Everson said she saw a women resembling Sherri Papini.