Some People Write….

And some people do. I do both. After fifty years of living, I have done a LOT in life. I have pulled some crazy shit, and have had some really crazy shit pulled on me. I have survived a lot of shit after fifty years of living in the wild west of Oregon. I have changed a LOT of diapers, and have dealt with a lot of emergencies and police calls.

I grew up around a bunch of crazy criminals. Some of them police officers, some of them murderers or felons, or murderers and felons in the making. I married into a family full of crazy criminals and chose to engage in intentional delusional thinking as a protective device. This involved a delusional, happy bubble church existence where we slut-shamed each other and remained as child-like as possible for as long as possible. It worked until it didn’t. Denialism is a beautiful tool to embrace when it comes to loving people with criminal backgrounds involving crimes that people they were raised around of which they either perpetrated or were the victims.

I learned at an early age to only trust those who aren’t out to kill me, hurt me, or take advantage of me. I learned at a later age to trust nobody, especially sweet pastors bearing smiles and fairy tale stories of “happily ever-after marriages” with formerly abused children who believe there is nothing wrong with their damaged family dysfunctions and their hatred toward their mother, their step-father, and the women they used and abused and then discarded for the next newer, younger, bigger, better replacement sexy “Mommy” woman.

Some men NEVER grow up! Some men point fingers at the women they once claimed to love and control and then say, “She’s dangerous! I’m afraid of her! I don’t trust her!” when it is themselves and their past shameful and abusive behaviors, the past behaviors of their own abused and traumatized mother who happened to gravitate towards abusive and sick men. Grown men are often afraid of their own sick, screwed up species, and their abusive step-fathers, their own sick and twisted in-laws, or dead siblings, missing women, and/or general fears of exposure of past closeted family skeletons that just might get exposed by those who have observed criminals for decades, and who can now talk about and talk like the in-laws and relatives who are really out-laws that they are truly afraid of facing.

There ARE advantages and disadvantages to being the baby of a very large and extended family.

I happened to marry very young after a wild upbringing full of so many restrictions that I couldn’t even eat shrimp or pepperoni pizza without fear of going through hellfire and damnation. I happened to be naive and trusting when I met a man from England at the age of 18, with such a spotty past and horrendous story, that like a “rescuer” of small puppies and other lost animals, I said “I’m So glad that you’re not like the rest of your family!”

I happened to have had the wool pulled over my eyes back then. I happen to have had the innocent veil ripped after a University education in English literature and creative writing. I survived and that is what counts. I survived the 2016 election when America’s character became just a bit more defined and demoralized than before. I survived going down on a banana for a You tube comedy skit. My family has thus survived as well.

I happened to have the delusional filter I had been wearing come unraveled and then watched my social filter flop on the floor after I became more like my own person, with my own opinions and insights after twenty years of trying to fit into my ex-husband’s family of screw-ups, ten years of trying to escape their narrow-minded matriarchal, grandiose “Cockney English” double-standard world-view, as well as overcome my own upbringing in a family of European, “Desendants of Abraham Lincoln and God Almighty” double-standard screw-ups than I ever thought possible for one person to achieve.

Today I have arrived. I can fit in anywhere and nowhere at the same time. I can address and lecture judges and walk out with my head held high while they roll their eyes, laugh at and mock me behind my back and know they will believe whatever they already had their minds made up to believe in the first place. They believe they are reasonable because they are out of touch with reality. They will believe the lawyers who tell the best stories, whether the stories are true and backed up with evidence or not. Reputation goes a long way over here in Small Town, Lane County, Oregon.

I do believe I am a natural-born citizen of the United States of America and have the right to claim my rights as a human, even if I am not given any. I do believe I ran with the Native Americans in Oregon where I grew up and can commiserate with their plight, even though I don’t have any of their blood in my veins. I do believe in freedom of speech and the freedom to have as many children as my body and belief system allows, just like my parents and grandparents before me. Just like the Native families I grew up around. I do believe women have the right and the ability to learn how to wield tools traditionally only seen in the hands of a man.

I do believe I know how to take a child’s door off of it’s hinges after she locks me out on the roof because she doesn’t want to clean up her room during a major house renovation. I do believe my now adult daughter KNOWS I would never go after any of my children with a hammer, or any other deadly weapon. I do believe my FAMILY knows I am a pacifist, like my Daddy raised me to be, but I will NOT sit down and shut up if what I have to say is important enough to be heard. I am NOT Spartacus! Although I would claim to be in order to save my son who’s middle name is Spartacus.

I do believe my own beautiful and now adult daughter will someday have to clear her mother’s name and admit that her Daddy and her new step-mom may have had an agenda that involved power, control, fear, money, and a sick and twisted sense of revenge or addictions in order to heal up and balance everything out.

Some people run on fear. Some people run on no sleep. Some people run on adrenaline. Some people run with chickens and with sheep. Some people run with wolves in sheep’s clothing. Some people become a lone wolf howling up at the moon over life not turning out like one expected. Yes, I have done that.

Some people plot and plan assassinations for world powers including the Pope and his horde of pedophiles and mafia, God-father, nun-fucking family issues; Trump and his ugly butt-lip, nasty-women, pomp-and-circumcision gold toilet issues; Putin and his covert string-pulling puppet mastery and putin’ on the Ritz Yule Brenner wannabe issues; and Jong with his cute little “Jesus Christ North-Korean Teddy Bear Don’t Make Me Push My Own Buttons or I’ll Kill You” sensitivity issues….as well as the Clinton’s notorious boxer or brief underwear and bleach-bit issues, and Martha Stewart….”perfect” Martha Stewart. I have had fantasies of assassinating her by drowning her in the perfect blackberry mint julep and burying her in my back yard under all the mint that someone planted of which I will be battling til the cows come home!

However, I might give Martha, Martha, Martha a break. She was, after-all, just trying to be a perfect hostess. She’s spent her time in prison and paid her dues, I’m sure.

Now, for Chip and Joanna Gaines. They have NO IDEA what it’s like to try and renovate a REAL house over here in Oregon, with REAL children with REAL issues, going through REAL divorce court and custody battles while on a REAL budget! I might have a little chip on my shoulder towards renovation shows that paint such visions of happy endings for home renovators.

For some people, being $100,000 in debt is no big deal. For others, it seems insurmountable when one’s life-long dreams have been decimated. That might be chump change for those who run with multi-millionaires. So much money to the federal government for a late-in-life education, so much to a high-powered, small-town corrupt lawyer who believes a woman couldn’t possibly know the difference between a hammer, a head, and a pintle hitch. I guess for some people it is no big deal to rack up debt to those who spread rumors and lies around town to those in power over the legal system and who get to determine children’s future lives and vital relationships…Over here in Oregon, it is all “ethical”and “legal” if it causes a bulldog attorney’s client to win his case and lines her own bank account with her next $20,000 vacation? Over here in Oregon, we just forget about the mother and her children’s relationships, children don’t need their mother anyway, since they have a perfectly good replacement mommy as a much “healthier” and stable substitute. I guess talented writers and artists are not always honored over here in Oregon like we often like to present to the world. Neither are mothers.

I was told by judge Clara Rigmaiden that “just because a woman has a lot of children doesn’t make her a good mom.” That is true. But, just because a man has a a lot of children and takes advantage of women and their physiological disposition doesn’t make him an exemplary father either. My father taught his children to honor BOTH parents, even if they weren’t PERFECT parents! To paint a mother as someone dangerous and fearful when she ISN’T should be considered CRIMINAL, but over here in Oregon, it is legal. It is actually supported and approved of by those in charge of the Lane County Courthouse and every single ignorant judge and lawyer who presided over the Robert Jones vs Lorra Jones case should be held as accountable as the struggling and hurting disadvantaged emotionally mature mother who gets scapegoated.

For some people, having to cough up $502.00 a month to support an abusive, immature ex-husband to influence and poison one’s children’s minds against their mother, sounds reasonable, even if the father never paid that much himself during his turn to support his own children and the woman who offered her services to him for years on end for free.

For some people to cough up another $400.00 a month to pay for a supervisor who is known to be a mermaid at the Oregon Country Fair just so she can watch accused mother around programmed children sounds reasonable and not like legalized torture. Especially after the creative and artistic mother gave away the life-long home that she helped renovate for NO PAY so that her former husband could have a beautiful, ready-for-market, if modest, home to reside in, and teach his children how to cheat at Monopoly and succeed in school and excel at sports…it is no big deal…it is a gift of love.

For some people, going through all this bullshit is an unsustainable and unfair heartache never to be laid to rest.

It does not make sense for ANY mother who is out-of-school, out-of-paid-for-work, and still healing up from a lifetime of trauma, to get a minimum wage job to pay $900.00 a month to see her children for two hours a month, with no contact in-between, no access to rebuild trust and communication due to archaic shunning practices, un-diagnosed and hidden family dysfunctions, and ridiculous cruelty to former family members.

Forking over $900.00 a month to people who tell lies and engage in adult bullying, does not leave anything to live on and only pays for wealthy professionals to continue to enjoy their vacations and their own personal endeavors in life. Some professional storytellers charge $300.00 an hour. Those are called lawyers. Some professional babysitters charge $150.00 an hour. Those are called rich people.

Do the math and tell me if I have enough blood in my body or hours in a day to sustain these extortionist-level expenditures for years on end. Maybe Martha Stewart can bring back the concept of Debtor’s Prison and she can cater some parties, paid for by my ex-husband’s attorney.

Some people did not go to the University of Oregon to become unethical, evil-hearted lawyers who can hire a cater for their next party after they go to a bar and sing karaoke following another day in court destroying people’s lives, while those they target hold their grief and pain inside and deal with their rage and anger in various ways, depending on their level of patience and wisdom. Thank goodness I can embrace comedy, unlike some people I know.

Some professional people are so self-centered as to steal creative ideas from a hurting mother while charging the ARTIST. the mother, and the former children’s church babysitter for their “professional” baby-sitting services to make certain the topics of discussion are all based in denialism about what is healthy and sustainable and what is NOT. Sarah Rich enjoys $400.00 a session to allow me to hug and speak to my children once a month for two hours. The state of Oregon believes this is sustainable!

I don’t know what state or planet most people live on or in anymore. We talk about sustainability over here in Oregon where I was born and obviously fell through the cracks, but in practice, we are hypocrites!

I guess I live in a state of depression and confusion these days. My parents came out of the Great Depression and I remember supplementing our meager food budget with berries, hunting and fishing like the natives. Most of my friends are scared of becoming homeless. I gave my children’s father a lifetime of happy memories, sex, romance and adventures and he threw it all away for a little beauty and co-worker named Amber, and whoever else he was taken by back in the day behind my back. My current husband and I talk about giving up on our dreams of a happy home full of my happy children now, and accepting that the rich get richer, the greedy get greedier, and the poor and downtrodden get trampled on by them as the rise to the top like so much fat and cream.

My current husband is a good man who pays his ex-wife alimony. I never saw a red cent from my ex-husband. My current husband would NEVER think of eliminating his ex-wife from his children’s lives and poisoning their minds against her like mine is doing so successfully and with help from the legal system. He can see the emotional damages doing so can cause when human beings are treated like nothing more than animals.

Thomas Nash once observed human behavior back in the fifteenth century, primarily when observing drunkards. Maybe he was right. Maybe we are all either sheep, apes, lions, foxes, swines, maudlins, goats, or Martins.

Even when sober. Some women are often called Pussycats, Cougars, Sabertooth Tigers, Mother Bears, Vixens, Puppy Mills, Breeders, and Bitches. Especially, if you have lived long enough and put up with enough from those who need to go look in the mirror.

Tread carefully around those who are bat-shit crazy intelligent, a little cracked in the head from living here in the Wild West, and funnier than shit due to experiencing bowel and vowel obstructions in the past. They might give you a dozen eggs fresh chicken eggs and then hold you hostage while explaining to you exactly how to bake all-organic assassination brownies full of sterilized shit and other crap that won’t kill you while they talk about fighting a war with flowers instead of guns and nuclear warheads and how much it costs to take children out for ice cream these days after falling in love with a young man who worked at BJ’s Ice Cream Parlor on Hwy. 101 back in the eighties when wild women picked Chantrelle mushrooms alone in the woods without permits so they could borrow her dad’s pick-up, buy some gas and wine coolers and go dance all night to Prince and Madonna with a bunch of crazy goofballs.

Except for the man she would marry. He, of course was too busy hustling pool to dance all night. He had dreams of a different nature. I am thankful I got the pick of the litter! The man who would be King of Monopoly! Where would I be without my Lord and Master?

Where would he be without his former Queen? GOD! Save the Queen!

God, save us ALL! I guess Oregon wants yet another comedian on the loose!