One of the Things I Do...

I Am An Animal Rescuer

My job is to assist God's creatures. I was born with the drive to fulfill their needs. I take in helpless, unwanted, homeless creatures without planning or selection.

I have bought dog food with my last dime. I have patted a mangy head with a bare hand. I have hugged someone vicious and afraid. I have fallen in love a thousand times and I have cried into the fur of a lifeless body too many times to count

I have animal friends and friends who have animal friends. I don't often use the word "pet". I notice those lost at the road side and my heart aches. I will hand raise a field mouse and make friends with a vulture. I know of no creature unworthy of my time.

I want to live forever if there aren't any animals in Heaven, but I believe there are. Why would God make something so perfect and leave it behind? Some may think we are master of the animals, but the animals have mastered themselves - something people still haven't learned.

But a rescue that makes the news gives me hope for mankind. We are a quiet but determined army and we are making a difference every day.
There is nothing more necessary than warming an orphan, nothing more rewarding than saving a life, no higher recognition than watching them thrive. There is no greater joy than seeing a baby play, who only days ago was too weak to eat. By the love of those who I've been privileged to rescue, I have been rescued. I know what true unconditional love really is........ for I've seen it shining in the eyes of so many, grateful for so little.

I am an Animal Rescuer....
My work is never done,
My home is never quiet,
My wallet is always empty,
My heart is always full.

The Geography of Women

GEOGRAPHY OF A WOMAN

Between 18 and 22, a woman is like Africa : half discovered, half wild, fertile and naturally beautiful.

Between 23 and 30, a woman is like Europe : well developed and open to trade, especially for someone of real value.

Between 31 and 35, a woman is like Spain : very hot, relaxed, and convinced of her own beauty.

Between 36 and 40, a woman is like Greece : gently aging but still a warm and desirable place to visit.

Between 41 and 50, a woman is like Great Britain : with a glorious and all conquering past.

Between 51 and 60, a woman is like Israel : has been through war, doesn’t make the same mistakes twice, takes care of business.

Between 61 and 70, a woman is like Canada : self‑preserving, but open to meeting new people.

After 70, she becomes Tibet : wildly beautiful, with a mysterious past and the wisdom of the ages, an adventurous spirit and a thirst for spiritual knowledge.


GEOGRAPHY OF A MAN

Between 1 and 90, a man is like Iran : ruled by nuts.

THE END

I wish I could be a handy man. I wish I knew how to paint, cut wood, hammer nails and measure stuff.......hey......wait a minute......I CAN DO THOSE THINGS. How come I can't build/repair/create stuff and get on that show "Extreme Makeover for Houses"? Shit.

Well, I wish I could play guitar and piano and sing and dance really well and wasn’t afraid to perform in front of people, then I could be on ‘Americas Got Talent” and win millions of dollars and have my own Vegas act........hey.....wait a sec......I CAN do those things......how come I'm not getting paid for it? sheeeeeittt.

Well, at least I don't have to worry about how come I can't dance really well and am over weight, or I could be on that new reality show ‘Dance your ass off”.......HEY, WAIT ONE FUCKING SECOND......I CAN dance and I am over weight......how come I didn’t hear about the auditions?

Well...good thing I was never taught how to groom a dog really well to AKC standards,from my father. Then I could go on that show 'Groomer Has It" and win $50.000 and a new mobile pet grooming bus and go into the pet grooming business for myself....wait one god damned second...I CAN DO THAT...I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT ALL MY LIFE. I can even clip a poodle to show standards. Crap...why aren't I doing tht for a living?

Well......the one think I know for sure I can't do is cook really well, like professionally trained people can. That's one thing for sure I don't have to wor......oh no......wait......I am having a memory.......oh fuck.....I CAN DO THAT, I WAS TRAINED PROFESSIONALLY AT CULINARY SCHOOL AND I CAN COOK BETTER THAN ANYONE I KNOW.

Fuck!! Why can't I be on any of those shows WHERE YOU win money for doing things better than other people?

Well, it gives me great relief to know that at least I went to college to learn how to talk to people who are upset because they got one DUI one time and now must pay tens of thousands of dollars to keep from getting it on their driving records by going to Intensive Outpatient Treatment......I can sit with them for hours on end and tell them why they are in denial and how they really do have a problem, they just don't know it yet but if they go to enough AA meetings, they will believe it......yeah, that’s what I am going to do. I'll have them get slips signed that can never be verified......and write down negative remarks about them not accepting the truth about their "Disease" if after those 2 years they still don't think they are an alcoholic.....making the judge think they are still very much in denial and that they need more thousand dollar treatment......yeah, that’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.
Sure glad I decided to go to college to get my degree to help people. Do I sound bitter? I am. I have had a real piece of reality pie showing me what this 'treatment' people are getting is all about. MONEY. Plain and simple. Oh well...it's better than shooting heroin...right?

First Weeks Are Tough

Well, I have completed my first week at my new job and let me tell you something. TEN HOUR DAYS SUCK!!!! I have always thought having a 4 day week would be awesome and the 3 day weekend even mobeta...But I think I was thinking about working a 4 day a week with 8 hour days. Those last 2 hours are freaking brutal.

I have basically been riding my couch for the last 7 years...those 2 years in college aside but really, I have been able to nap anytime I feel like it. Those days are GONE. I have to sit in groups and what really is the ball buster is those night groups. From 6:30 to 9:30 we are in a group..IOP.. Intensive Out Patient. These are people who have gotten DUI's and other drug and alcohol court related indicents. People have been arrested and their 'punishment' is to go to IOP in order to educate them on the disease of alcoholism and drug addiction. I am the group leader and as such, I am to lead them into helpful and active discussions about addiction. Most of these folks are so mad that they have to be there. They don't believe they have any problems, aside from having to sit their ass in this fucking group. They want out of there in the worst way possible. Well...I am so empathetic. I know how they feel. I was one of them. I can see myself sitting there, arms crossed, foot tapping, conversation inside my head was 'Waaa Waaa Waaa...I am not like you, I never was like you and I never will be like you and what the fuck am I doing here?"

Well, I see me sitting in all those chairs. It is like a blast from the past, only now I am the one leading the group instead of follwing I was leading....leading while trying not to pass out from shere exhaustion. I literally gave myself whiplash from jerking my head up to keep from falling asleep. The people were laughing at me and I was so embarrased. It is just because I am not used to it. I will get better. I know I will. It's just in the mean time....this is gonna be tough.

I slept until 12:30 this morning (afternoon?) I have never slept in that late, ever. Not even when I worked until 3 in the morning. I always got up early. Not anymore. Stay tuned for more exciting stories of 'Susan has a new job'

#52

Well, it is 7:25 a.m. It is a beautiful sunny July day. I am up, dressed, lunch packed, car loaded with all my goodies for my new office and ready to go start job #52 (I know there were a few I forgot so that isn't the real number but it's close enough. I am nervous, apprehensive, tense and excited. I don't know how I am going to do. I am nervous that if I decorate my new office that I will curse myself. If I don't decorate it, I will be stuck sitting in a very drab, ugly office. I was told not to go overboard when decorating it, but to 'make it your own space'. So, I have two plants, some...well...all of my therapeutic books from school and from my own personal collection. I do have an impressive library if I do say so myself. Dawn gave me a beautiful card congratulating me on this new adventure. Bless her heart. I love her. Flaws, faults, imperfections and all. She is my friend and I do love her. I know I knock her around in here but that's just how we roll. I am by no means perfect either. I know she loves me with all her heart so that's all that counts, right? I love having someone who knows me as well as she does. She may not be a great house keeper but her knowledge of me, is second to NONE.

Her advice to me was, "Don't think anyone down there loves you because they don't and they will stab you in the back just as soon as look at ya. Just be careful, don't trust anyone and do good." I couldn't think of better advice myself. I do tend to get too comfortable at a job. I let my guard down, I talk too much about stuff that doesn't belong at the office and I trust people (women) who turn around and stab me in the back.

Here is a good example of just that very thing. When I worked at Rural Metro Ambulance, I befriended a gal named Jess. She had been there for several years and was loved by everyone. When she had marital problems, the company pitched in and got together an very nice Christmas for her and her kids when they were living in a woman's shelter. The big boss was friends with her from school and I figured she was a good person to make friends with. Boy was I wrong.

One day, she and I were talking about drugs and stuff, I had no idea that she was such a stoner. She loved pain pills, opiates, cocaine, you name it. Well, one day I brought her home with me and we got high. I did that stupid thing, I shared heroin with her. she loved it.....oh god Susan.

OK, fast forward several months. I am very close to my 6 month evaluation where they would decide to keep me permanent or not. Sunday night at 10:30, Jess is at my door wanting me to find her some coke. I don't have a clue where to do that, but I instead got her to pray with me. ( I was going through my christian phase at this time). I got on my knees with her and we prayed for God to take away her cravings. I had no idea what situation she had left at home. I would later find out. She left my place, to go home...or so I thought.

That next morning, I went into my office manager Candy to talk to her about Jess. Not to bring up the drug thing but to tell her I was worried about her state of mind. She mentioned 'Suicide' a couple times and I just did what a good friend would do. Candy told me that Jess hadn't come home that night and her husband had just called frantic with worry. I was sitting right there when Candy called Jess's husband Todd. she said, "Hello Todd, listen, Susan is in here and she said she saw Jess at around 10:30 last night and she left at about 11 and was fine.". I watched Candy's face while she listened to Todd's response, and it dropped. Her jaw fell open and the expression on her face could only be described as shocked. She said, "Oh, really....uh-huh..I see, well OK then. I will get back to you later."

She didn't let on to anything and she said to go back to my office that there was nothing else we could do. Five minutes later, I turn around and there stands Candy along with Jeannine(Human Resource Manager) and John (general manager). They tell me that I need to go with them for a drug test. That Todd had told them I was a "heroin dealing, drug using freak that Jess had been getting her drugs from". I was stunned. I had no idea that for the last 3 months Jess had been on a roll and when she got caught one night and was asked where she was getting her stuff from, she blurted out "This chick at work Susan" never thinking Todd or my path would ever cross, or so I imagined. I had no idea that she and he were fighting and his last words to her were, "You either stop going over to Susan's or I am leaving." and she left...TO GO TO SUSAN'S...FOR HER SECOND TIME ONLY. Her husband thought this was an on going thing and he was telling her it was 'her dealer or him'.

Oh my freaking GOD....can i pick'em or what. I was using heroin at that time and there was no way I was going to pass any drug test. Not because I was Jess's drug dealer but for reasons of my own...I was terrified. I got in the car with the two head honchos, John and Jeannine and we headed to the clinic for me to give a UA. All the drive there I kept saying, "I have never sold her anything. I don't do that. I don't know what she has been telling her husband!!" I kept asking, "Is this going to affect my evaluation?" and they kept saying ,"No, as long as everything comes out OK, this will have nothing to do with that." LIARS!!!

I won't go into detail about how to fake a, unobserved UA with no previous warning...those of you who have ever had to do it, know how I did it. It's embarrassing and disgusting to admit. OK, so I was not allowed back on the job until they got the results, which were "Flushed" meaning there was too much water in the specimen and I had to retest...which I was ready to do now because I had gotten someone else's pee for that second test...for the first one...oh forget it. It's gross what people will do to get through a drug test without failing. Most people knock on their friend's doors asking to borrow a cup of sugar or milk...not drug addicts. They ask for borrow a cup of urine....from my friends mother no less.

So, I went in for that second test, I passed and came back to work. But, when my 6th month anniversary came by, I was so excited and certain I had a job. I baked cookies and distributed them to all of the EMT's (Emergency Medical Techs aka ambulance drivers) and everyone else in the office. When it came time for my review...I walked into Candy's office and there sat Candy and Jeannine....they were both in tears. Not a good sign. Candy came up with some bullshit reasons for my not being able to stay with them....one was my singing with the radio bothered Margaret (the fat old bitch I shared the office with). The other reason was I took off my shoes (Under my desk mind you)....what the real reason was is that I was involved in a suspicious situation and they weren't having it. No matter how hard they denied that was the reason, I knew it was.

The fact that they were crying meant nothing to me, although I am sure this wasn't their decision, it was John's...he had the last word in who stayed and who didn't. He and I never really got off to a good start...I always had that feeling that he didn't like me for what ever reasons it was. Botton line was, I was asked to get my belongings together and I was walked out to my car by Candy and Jeaninne who both gave me a big hug and told me if I needed a letter of reccomendation, that they would be happy to provide me with one.

Moral of this story boys and girls. Don't befriend your co-workers. Don't open your door to them late at night when they are on the prowl for drugs. Don't use drugs while on the job so in case they have a random UA put, you can pass it. And the most important thing......Keep your personal life personal. I shared alot of my stuff with Jess who in turn shared it with her husband. He must have thought I was just a real piece of shit judging from how he reacted when he heard his wife was in my company. That expression on Candy's face told all.

OK, well...now I am off to my new job. Job number #52 and hopefully my very last job for the rest of my working, walking, talking, counseling life.
Cross your fingers, tap your bible, light your candles or what ever else you do to send good joo joo to someone. I need it...all of it.

Peace Out

I Survived "OK DAZE"

Well I survived my first day of my new job. I call first days on a job my "OK Daze" because all I say all day is, "OK" and I am usually in a daze. I am always being told what to do, how to do it, when to do it, why to do it, where to do it and who to do it with and the proper response when having been told to do something is 'OK'.

I have my very first own office!!! Not a cubicle...a real office with a door, a lock, a computer, desk, shelves, black plastic organizer complete with pens, paper clips, binder clasps, rubber bands, colorful thumb tacks and highlighters....in every conceivable color. I am going to customize it up really nice too. I was told not to go crazy, meaning don't bring in waterfalls, and incense or rain sticks. I was kind of bummed because that is exactly what I wanted to do. I want to get rid of the overheard flourescent lighting and just use table lamps to get rid of that institutional feel, ya know? It is so bright in there it almost hurts my eyes. Also it is very hot in there. No ventilation, just a fan. The A/C in the building is awesome only there are no vents in the offices...when you shut the doors, they become little saunas...I became over come with heat and I nodded out during one assesment. Not good. I am going to make do with what I have been given to work with and it is going to be a nice office.

Please dont' get me wrong, I am in NO way complaining, oh God no. I am so grateful to be there. I Love the vibe. The people are so...real. I am not in some franchise/chain place that has its bosses sitting in some office half way across the country. No big full page yellow page ads..nope. This is a privately owned and operated facility with a woman owner being the HBIC. She is old school, been not only around the block but around the world and she was drinking whiskey the entire tour. She has a heart as huge as the entire world and you can tell this is her passion. She is a woman of few words but those that she does say are powerful, meaningful and worth listening to.

The man who runs the shop is a trip. Dan....old school junkie/alky. He has a voice that is as smooth and deep as a velvet covered well. He should be doing voice overs or working as DJ..great stuff. When I commented on it, he said, "Nope it's just a whiskey voice." I knew exactly what he meant. Years of smoking and drinking take its toll on a vocal chord. I loved him instantly. When he called Susie into the room, I loved her instantly too. She reminded me of my Aunt Maxine and a bit of my Mom...There is nothing you can tell them that they dont already know.

There is a gentleman there named Dan. He is a soft spoken, very polite man and that is all I know about his as of this point. Debbie is the woman I was training with. She is the friend of my very close friend and I found out there is bad blood between them. My friend loaned her a large sum of money, never to be repaid. My friend is evolved enough to not let an unpaid debt get in the way of the friendship, but the woman not only didn't pay her back, she had her phone number changed and started treating my friend like a debt collector....so unfortunately, the friendship didn't survive the ordeal and my friends life will go on but if this woman I am working with is truly 'working a solid program of sobriety' then she should make every effort to repay the loan. They "work steps" and this is an example of bad stepping....I don't know if they really have a step that addresses this particular issue, but if they did it would probaly go something like this
STEP 13 "Hey fuckhead...if someone is kind enough to loan your dumbass money, the very least your sober ass can do is pay them back". Right?

Well, this is the beginning of a new chapter of my life. Where life will take me is anybodies guess...I am keeping my fingers crossed and praying with all my heart that this is going to be the last job I ever have. I am not young and I don't have any extra energy in me to job hunt. I need to 'job keep'. I have 'job found' and I want to stay put. Stay tuned for more of 'As Susan Turns'.

I Loved My Dysfunctional Childhood

Black and White TV's of the past...
You could hardly see for all the snow,
spread the rabbit ears as far as they go...
pull a chair up to the TV set,
Good Night, David.
Good Night, Chet.'

My Mom used to cut chicken, chop eggs and spread mayo on the same cutting board with the same knife and no bleach, but we didn't seem to get food poisoning.

My Mom used to defrost hamburger on the counter and I used to eat it raw sometimes, too. Our school sandwiches were wrapped in wax paper in a brown paper bag, not in ice pack coolers, but I can't remember getting e.coli.

Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the lake instead of a pristine pool (talk about boring), no beach closures then..

The term cell phone would have conjured up a phone in a jail cell, and a pager was the school PA system.

We all took gym, not PE...and risked permanent injury with a pair of high top Ked's (only worn in gym) instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion soles and built in light reflectors. I can't recall any injuries but they must have happened because they tell us how much safer we are now.

We all wore white, short sleeved, buttoned shirts and (short) blue shorts for gym, washed over the weekend and brought back clean on Monday We all took showers at end of Gym before going to our next class.
Flunking gym was not an option... even for stupid kids! I guess PE must be much harder than gym.

Speaking of school, we all said prayers and sang the national anthem, and staying in detention after school caught all sorts of negative attention..

We must have had horribly damaged psyches. What an archaic health system we had then. Remember school nurses? Ours wore a hat and everything.

I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud of myself.

I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, Play Station, Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations.

Oh yeah... and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit when I got that bee sting? I could have been killed!

We played 'king of the hill' on piles of gravel left on vacant construction sites, and when we got hurt, Mom pulled out the 48-cent bottle of mercurochrome (kids liked it better because it didn't sting like iodine did) and then we got our butt spanked.

Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day dose of a $49 bottle of antibiotics, and then Mom calls the attorney to sue the contractor for leaving a horribly vicious pile of gravel where it was such a threat.

We didn't act up at the neighbor's house either, because if we did we got our butt spanked there and then we got our butt spanked again when we got home.


I recall Donny Reynolds from next door coming over and doing his tricks on the front stoop, just before he fell off.
Little did his Mom know that she could have owned our house.
Instead, she picked him up and swatted him for being such a goof.

It was a neighborhood run amok.

To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a dysfunctional family.

How could we possibly have known that? We needed to get into group therapy and anger management classes.

We were obviously so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn't even notice that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac!

How did we ever survive?

LOVE TO ALL OF US WHO SHARED THIS ERA. AND TO ALL WHO DIDN'T, SORRY FOR WHAT YOU MISSED.
I WOULDN'T TRADE IT FOR ANYTHING!

I GOT A JOB!!!!!!

I GOT A JOB!!!! Great balls o'fire...it finally happened. I have been given the opportunity to go to work in the field I have graduated college to be a part of. It happened!!! I was beginning to think I was NEVER going to get this opportunity and thanks be to the Goddess I was hired by a very reputable behavioral health facility here in the Snohomish County area. I was being 'seriously considered" Sea Mar in Monroe and I was sure they were going to make me an offer...but they kept inviting me back for a second, third and fourth interview...not so much an interview but I was sitting in on groups. I sat in on a teen group, an adult group and a women's group. One more interesting than the other. The girl (And I do mean girl...she was 24) that lead these groups was doing a horrible job of it. She had no control, no order...there was no flow. It was people talking, out of order, interupting each other, using foul language, "romancing the memories" meaning they were having euphoric recall about all the 'fun' they had when they were high. One kid went into great detail about all the different pain pills he was given when he had his DUI wreck and almost killed himself and his girlfriend who was his passenger. Not one word of remorse ...as a matter of fact..he was showing off his new tatoo to the rest of the 'gang'. It was on the back of his neck and it said in big black New Engligh caligraphy "No Remorse". So..that about tells ya how he feels about his 'disease' and the fact that he almost killed his girlfriend.

I am not in there to judge, condemn, criticise or ridicule. I was there to see how they do things is all. I did see how they did things. But in the mean time, I was without a job. This place that did hire me, called me in for one interview and told me right there and then they wanted to give me a shot. Now THATS HOW AN INTERVIEW IS SUPPOSED TO GO. None of this "Well, we're thinking about, thinking about hiring you". While she was thinking about it...another place DID IT!!

I have no idea how many jobs I have had. Last time I thought about them, I was able to remember them all...but as I get older my memory fades more and more and they are getting harder and harder to remember. I should write them down right now....I think I will give it a try.I'll write the job number, the name, the state and the year. Here goes:
1. Jack in the Box- Calif. -76
2. Shibui Gift-Calif-77
3. Hungry Hunter Restaurant-Calif-78
4. The Rock (head shop)-Washington-78
5. Pizza Hut-Calif- 77
6. Dollar Rent a Car-Calif-78
7. Lyons Coffee Shop-Calif-78
8. Sedgewick, Detert, Moran & Arnold Law Firm-San Fran-79
9. Burger King-Wash- 80
10. Waterway Waterbed Store-Wash-80
11. Waterbed Warehouse-Wash-81
12. Bon Marche Piano & Organ Dept 81
13. Goofy's Tavern-Wash-81
14. Finnagans Tavern-Wash-81
15. Skippers Fish & Chips-Wash-82
16. Kovacs-Wash-82
17. Red Balloon-Wash-83
18. My Dad's store-Wash-83
19. Fox Pump & Dewatering-Calif-84
20. Some Temp Co in Calif 85
21. Harbor Marine-Wash-86
22. Pelican Petes Restaurant-Wash-86
23. The Westin Hotel, Kodiak Ak-88
24. Taco Time-Wash-88
25. Some Rent a car place-Calif -88
26. Art of Pasta Restaurant-Calif-88
27. Parkers Rock n Roll Club-Wash-88
28. Skippers-Wash-89
29. Pay n Pak-Wash-90
30. Group Health Credit Union- Seattle-91
31. Northern Energy Propane-Everett-92
32. Northstar Corp (espresso machine importer)-Everett-92
33. Shrieners Iris Garden-Oregon-93
34. K&D Flaggers- Wash.93
35. Kelly's, Olstens, Manpower Temp-Wash-94
36. Johansens Mech.-Wash-94
37. Timberline Cafe-Wash-95
38. Boeing-Wash-96
Culinary School-96-97
39. Angelos Restaurant-Wash-98
40. Olive Garden-Wash-2000
41. Jacks Restaurant-Everett-00
42. (out of order but forgot about it)Pluma Blanco Mexican Rest-Wash-83
43. Buzz Inn Martini Bar-Wash-2001
44. Rome Pizza-Wash-2001
45. The Steak House-Wash-02
46. Nationwide Vinyl Window-Wash-02
47. Aegis Convelescent Hospital-03
48. Rural Metro Ambluance-Wash-03
49. Celebrations Catering-Wash-04
50. Silverlake Winery-Wash-04
51. Alpine Windows

I have already remembered a couple I have left off but you get the idea....I have been hired to do alot of different things. Alpine Windows was the last job I was able to get. Once my felony hit the computers I was considered unworthy of employment. I went on over 100 interviews during the year of 2005 and no one would hire me. I must have had over 200 resumes floating around out there in cyber space...lots of calls, lots of interviews but the minute I was told they would be doing a background check and asked me if there was anything I wanted to tell them...I would tell them and they would show me the door. I used to be so careful and quiet when I first walked in, hoping, praying that they wouldn't ask me 'that' question..but it always was asked and I always answered honestly and I was always shown the door.

I got to the point where I was walking in and before I even sat down, I would say, "look, I have a felony in my background. It isn't drug related, I didn't kill, rape or molest anyone. It was 2 years ago, I have completed my probation and really would like a chance to prove myself to you....now...should I sit down and we commence with this interview or should I show myself to the door?".

I was always told how much they appreciated my honesty but they were really sorry but they just didn't have anything to offer me at that time. So, I would show myself to the door. That was when I made the decision to go to school to become a Chemical Dependency Counselor. Every good counselor I ever had, had a felony (Or 2 or 5) in their past and they were the best damn counselors I had. I figured that would be the ONE and only field where my past would be looked upon as a benefit and not a hinderance...

AND IT LOOKS LIKE IT HAS BEEN. When the owner was looking at my Counselor Registration card where it says 'Probation', she said,"What's this for?" and Dan, the man I just interviewed with said, "Oh, it's just a felony." and she said, "Oh, ok"...AND THAT WAS IT!!!!!OH MY GOD, IT HAS FINALLY HAPPENED. I have been looked at as a person, a real live person and not a felon. I was not defined by what I had done...I was looked at as a real person, not a statistic. I was getting so tired of being judged by something stupid I had done. That wasn't what I was, it was something I did. And they realized it. Thank God, Goddess and all else holy.

I have kept you long enough....this is going to be one great night. I am going to go to sleep with a clear consciounce and not feel the dread I have been feeling as the last thought I had as my head hit the pillow...."OH god I have to get a job before I run completely out of my trust fund." AND NOW I HAVE ONE. MY LIFE IS JUST BEGINNING AND I AM SO EXCITED.

How Do You Respect Your Salmon?

Well...PETA is at it again. They are protesting the men who throw the fish at the fish counter that is at the very opening of the Pike Place Market...those guys who yell,"HALI-BUTT!!!!!! GOIN HOME!!!!" then they toss a giant fish with great enthusiasm, over the tops of the heads of the hundreds of tourists, to another guy who proceeds to cut, gut, clean and wrap it to send it home to its new owner. More seasoned shoppers know to duck when they hear,"2 Crab...Commin To Ya!!!" but there are those few unfortunates who have been smacked in the face by a flying crustacean. (that's a free crab dinner if that happens)

PETA claims this is "disrespectful" to the fish that have already gone through a "agonizingly painful death". Now, I have often wondered myself, what it must feel like to a King Crab or a bottom feeding fish to be brought up from several fathoms to the surface in a few seconds. A human being would go through the bends for sure. PETA claims that when a fish is caught, the rapid rise to the surface bursts their air bladder, causing great pain. I too have also wondered if indeed a fish does feel pain. I would think so, which is why I think 'catch and release" is a cruel thing to do. I think that has got to hurt its cheek, having a hook torn out of it or worse yet, having it go down their little throats and then having to be pulled back up and out. Not to mention all that time out of the water, gasping for 'air'.

I think, if you are going to put a fish through the torture of being caught, then just follow through and kill it and eat it for craps sake. I would be curious to know what the survival rate is for the fish that have been yarded up top just to be tossed back into the depths. I wonder what the conversation is when they get back down to their fish families and friends.

Do they go talk to their buddies and say "Man, I was just minding my own business when I saw free food, just floating right in front of my face so I took a bite and BAM...I went to the light...dude it was the RAPTURE!! I SAW THE BOAT!!! I was IN the boat...then these giant monsters just ripped the shit outta my face and threw my ass back into the water. I was stunned a bit but sure as I got my sea legs back, I swam my ass off to get back home. Man, that was a close one. If I ever see a day-glo egg or a worm just floating around, I ain't never gonna take the bait... No way....and I highly suggest you heed my warning! There ain't no free lunch down here..uh-huh...no way!"


That would be the equivalent of our 'near death experiences' wouldn't ya think? People cant wait to give you their near death story...how they 'saw the tunnel of light" and they wanted to "go to the light" but then felt that pull back to their bodies and they weren't ready to go yet. I wonder if those little fishies have that same feeling?

Back to PETA...they are protesting the fish mongers tossin the fish over the people's heads and yelling. They say,"If those were kittens or baby lambs being thrown around, people wouldn't feel the same way at all." what a stupid argument...HELLO...they aren't throwing kittens or baby lambs. That would be gross. We don't eat kittens or lambs...that goes on across the pond in China and shit. These fish are DEAD. They don't feel anything. People find it entertaining to watch. Every now and then, they pull some dude out of the crowd who says he could catch one of these air borne salmon...so they let him try. It's funnier than hell to watch. Not just anyone can catch a 20 lb. slippery assed, flying fish flavored missile comin at'em at like 40 mph. No way...That takes years of training to get that art down to the perfection like those dudes. I love to watch them.

PETA goes after some very good causes from time to time. I donate to like 10 charities but PETA is NOT one of them. Their advertising tactics are gross and just plain unnecessary. I support being kind and humane to all creatures, great and small. I don't agree with animal testing. I don't agree with exotic animals being turned into pets. I certainly do not condone the circus and Rodeos using animals to do things that they NEVER would be doing in the wild, for "entertainment purposes". I despise Rodeos and circuses. I protest the Ringling Bros. Circus all the time when they come to town. Also, as beautiful and entertaining as it is to watch, I don't agree with Marine World or any other amusement park that uses Orcas and Sea Lions, Penguins or any other marine mammal, to perform in these pools that are like one billionth the size of what they were meant to live in..i.e. THE OCEAN.

I definitely have my opinions on animal cruelty and abuse. Throwing a dead salmon or halibut is NOT animal cruelty or 'disrespectful' as far as I am concerned. I think this is the most ridiculous thing they have even taken on and I certainly don't think people are going to take them seriously. What, did things slow down in the real world of animal cruelty and abuse? I don't think so. There are Panda Bears losing their habitat in China. There are Polar Bears losing their habitat in Antarctica. There is a hideous waste of salmon right here in Snohomish County because of the Natives overfishing...oh don't get me started on that one.

OK, that's my rant for the day. I think the fish mongers should be able to throw as many fish as far as they want to. I know the fish don't mind. They are dead...dead and delicious. Yeah, I know...they are an animal and I Love animals so how can I eat them. Well, I'll tell you how....with lemon butter onions and a tad of garlic and loaf of sour dough bread and a cold glass of Pinot Grechio.. That's how and I highly recommend it for you to give it a try. MMMMmmmmmm Good!!

God's Hotel

We were talking about jail experiences this morning, how life changing they were and are. It reminded me of a poem I had been given while I was in jail back in 2002. It was so poignant and fit how I felt at the time. I was trying on becoming a 'Christian'...it fit me OK at the time, but I sort of 'outgrew' it and it started feeling a bit tight and restrictive...so I exchanged it for a better fitting belief...I believe in God and Goddess, earth, moon, stars, trees, water, wind and nature. I believe we are from the earth and will return to it and as for our souls...well, I think we get as many chances as it takes to reach perfection...a Jonathan Livingston kinda deal...kind of Buddhism, more Wicca/Pagan. Or better put the smorgasbord version of spirituality. A little of this and a spoon of that...

I was reading the bible while in jail and my friend was coming in to visit me and he would read the bible to me and pray with me. It made more sense when someone else read it to me and then could explain what they had just read. Truth be told, I did read the bible. It took a year, I had a journal that helped me. I would read a passage and then the journal asked me to write down how what I just read fit into my life and what did it mean to me. More times than not I would write 'I don't have any idea what I just read meant or how it applies to my life."

The jail Chaplain-ette (What do they call a girl Chaplain?) was named Julianna and she was amazing. She was very Christian and it was because of her that I was able to keep my sanity while in that vile place. I connected with her instantly. She gave me this poem that was written by one of the woman who had passed through the doors into the jail. She said it was one of her favorites and she thought I would enjoy it. I did and now I am sharing it with you.

God’s Hotel

I checked you in again last night my child~
Cuz it hurt so bad to see you out there, runnin’ wild.
All tired and “sucked up” you appeared to me,
Put a mirror in front of you,
You still couldn't’t see.
You’re a number among the walking dead~
Hurting yourself, confusion in your head.
Jail is not the place you want to be~
But it’s my “Hotel” where I can work on thee.
You see, you weren’t just arrested,
You were rescued from yourself.
I had to bring you back in here
And put your drug use on the shelf.
Give you some rest, some food, some encouraging talk,
To let you know I love you,
Before I let you walk.
Don't be like a mule that’s led around
By a shiny bit,
Just listen to my warning,
Let me help you quit.

All My Love,
God


Pretty cool, eh? I loved it then and I love it now. I believe with all my heart that jail saves more lives than any treatment center or rehabilitation facility on earth. That is where you have had everything in your life that got between you and God, removed. That is where you can turn down the volume in your head and be able to hear the answers to your prayers. Jail is where God has your complete and undivided attention so that he can penetrate your heart, body and soul. I believe that you don't have to wear a title of one religion or another in order to connect with God. I think God is ready, willing and able to listen to us and love us with no need of a mediator or liaison...I could be wrong but I won't know the answer to that until I actually meet with him...if there is anyone to meet at all. It would suck to be wrong about things like that, wouldn't it? Oh well...that's a gamble I am going to have to take. Have a gorgeous day.

Annonymous Comments

Well, I am learning a new lesson about blogging and letting people make comments...people can say some really vicious things when signed in under "anonymous". It must give them a false sense of security and courage. I got my first horribly negative comment today and I promptly deleted it for a couple reasons...first of all it was very vulgar, full of lies and was insulting. And secondly, I figure if someone doesn't have the courage to leave their name when making such a vicious comments, then they don't deserve to have their comment posted. Unfortunately, I have a very strong feeling I know who wrote it.

I haven't heard from or seen this person in a long long time....but when I read those nasty words, I was almost certain that it was them. They brought up stuff I have not put in my blog, private things...details I ha vent' disclosed.

They attacked my being on methadone saying, "Who in their right mind would want a drug counselor who was a drug addict still using drugs?". They accused me of having "bad research skills" because I didn't use Google to look up what "Tweeting" was..(I was joking, of course I know what it is...it is something a bird does right? )....Well, they need to do some research of their own...being on methadone has nothing to do with being a good counselor. First off, most drug counselors are drug addicts themselves in recovery...and secondly, hundreds of drug counselors are on methadone...We even have a support group for us. We are covered by the American Disabilities Act (ADA) and our taking methadone is looked upon as being no different than a diabetic person taking their insulin....I am not "high" or considered to be 'Under the influence". Even if I were pulled over by the police while driving.

Yep...Big News Flash!!! (that everyone who knows me already knows) I am a drug addict, I always will be one. But I am in recovery.... unlike this "Anonymous" person. Your denial about your drug addiction is really, well, typical. No drug addict that is not in recovery wants to admit they have problem. It's much easier to focus on the flaws, faults and failures of other people than to deal with themselves. I know...we all do. It's tough to admit when we have been defeated and destroyed by our 'best friends" aka DRUGS!

Moving on...My blog is sent to the people I know who love me and consider me a friend. Where it goes from there is up to God and the people sending it on to their friends. I KNOW this comment was not from anyone I Love or who loves me, but from a person who has negative energy and lots of time to waste ...not having a job and all...just being able to lounge around picking other people apart.

I intend on spending the remaining years of my life doing as much positive as I can. I accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative not only in here but in all areas of my life. There is no need for it and it serves no purpose. I won't delete opposing ideas or sound arguments on my posts but if someone just wants to assassinate my character and be malicious..well that is not going to be accepted so put that in your little crack pipe, Anonymous and smoke it!

To the rest of my friends...sorry about this. I hope to not have to waste my precious time blogging about something so ridiculous again. I have too many good things I want to write about...yeah some are not so pleasant but that's my life...not all parts of it are. Ya gotta take the good with the bad if you want to hang with me. I promise, I will make it worth your while....I give you my word...and oh Anonymous...buckle up sweetie. It's gonna take a lot more than your petty accusations and comments to upset me. Trust that. I have stared Satan straight in the eye and beat him...so the likes of your skinny lil mortal ass doesn't bother me one bit.

Corn!!!

I went to my favorite open air fruit/veggie stand yesterday to pick up a few items and was shocked to my core when I saw the price on the yellow corn. It was .89 cents EACH!!!! Yes, you heard me correctly. 89 cents a piece, this vegetable that we normally get 10 for a buck...was now almost a buck a piece. I was just stunned.

My good long time buddy Bill (more on Bill in another blog sometime to come) manages the veggie stand and I asked him how come our corn was so expensive. He told me because so much corn is being used for Ethanol to run our cars and the other use for corn is to make corn syrup...the number one food ingredient in most every processed food product. That made perfect sense to me, the reason Americans are getting so freaking fat...Corn Syrup, Fructose, Glucose, Sucrose...it all spells out one thing...SUGAR!!!

Driving home I was reminiscing about a trip I had taken a long time ago, across this beautiful country, with my then best friend Sandy (aka Sam II....that's another story...stay tuned)we were driving from Washington clear across the continent to Maryland. It was a long, amazingly fun trip. We kept a verbal journal by talking into my hand held tape recorder.

One entire cassette, both sides, was on the topic "CORN". While driving those 3000+ miles, we saw alot of things but the number one thing we saw was field after field of corn. Millions and billions of ears of corn. We saw corn TPs, corn buildings, there was a house that was decorated entirely with corn husks and kernels. There were children of the corn....NO...seriously...they sat at a little booth and the sign said 'Children of the Corn". We laughed so hard I almost drove the truck off of the road.

We started to free flow and talk about corn. We were laughing ourselves sick. I came up with the "Corn Creed". It claimed that there was so much corn in this country that every man, woman and child should be given certificate at birth stating that they would never have to pay one single dime for corn. We should be given all the corn our little hearts desired from the time we were born, until the time we closed our eyes for the lst time. Hell, if we wanted a corn coffin, it should be given without any resistance.

Field after field, acre after acre, mile after mile of solid, golden, silk crowned corn. It seemed ridiculous that we, as Americans, should get all the corn we wanted. I know that our Native Americans were the ones who gave us the secret to growing, harvesting and using this miracle product. It is just astounding how many uses there are for this wonder fruit..yes I said "Fruit" because it is. Botanically speaking, corn is a caryopsis, or dry fruit - popularly known as a grain. I think most people think of corn as a vegetable but I just set y'all straight. Look it up if ya don't believe me.

One thing I do know and that is that I love corn. On the cob, popped, buttered, canned, creamed (yep, in a casserole I make it is really delicious) kettled, tortilla-ed,or dogged. MMMmmmm good. Slathered in butter and eaten right off the cob is my personal favorite method. Corn is the most delicious summer food I can think of. It is right up there with Watermelon. I have many great memories when I think of corn. One is how my mother ate it. God bless her...she used a fork. Yep, she would slide the tongs under two or three rows and then twist her fork so as to dislodge the kernels from where they are attached, leaving her a fork full of corn kernels. Yumm...one time, for a punishment; she made me eat my entire ear of corn this way. She made it look very because when I tried it, it was very hard to do and it took me the entire dinner time to comlete one ear.

My very best memory is going to Teddy Bear Cove in Bellingham, Washington. It is the infamous nude beach and on Sunday's the locals would have these amazing pot luck dinners. Everyone brought their contribution and there were a couple of crab pots left down there that we baited and set out, to be reeled back to the surface jammed packed with fresh, beautiful Dungeness crab. Someone always brought a big huge pound or two of butter and it was melted in a coffee can over the open fire. We all took turns filling up our little plastic cups with it so we could dunk our clumps of crab meat into and then shove into our waiting mouths with our fingers...the melted butter dripping down our naked bodies. Oh man, that a feeling to have melted butter run down your naked chest...it is so sensual and indescribable.

There are no words to describe what devouring good food while being naked feels like. It is a little slice of heaven for sure. No napkins, no forks, no table manners used and no one judging you or telling you to take your elbows off the table or put your napkin in your lap. It is as natural and beautiful as it gets. This is how our ancestors consumed their meals....right out in the open.

The Natives that lived on the coast of Washington must have been the luckiest of all. I can only imagine what it must have been like to live in such an amazingly beautiful place. To be able to dive into this beautiful(and very cold) body of water and pull out your next meal..how absolutely awesome it must have been.

Ooops, I did it again, I completely derailed my train of thought again. Back to the subject....There is more corn in this country than you can wrap your head around, trust that. They say for every pound of beef, it takes 10 acres of land to provide the food for one cow...wow....that's astounding and scary. It is almost enough to make me want to stop eating beef all together. That would be so hard, I love my Porterhouses but I think I could learn to live without....but that's a whole other blog topic all together. Have a wonderful weekend. Go get yourself some corn and have a great big barbecue...Mmmmm, finger lickin good!!

Michael's Funeral and Memorial Day

Wow...what a freaking trip...Michael Joseph Jackson is gone. Just like a flame to the wind...extinguished....poof...gone, in the blink of an eye. I have been watching his memorial on TV all morning. Wow...to have the people talking aobut him, that knew him, be the most famous and important people in our music industry to date, is just a testiment to what kind of person he was. I am still in shock.

Tell me if this is way 'Off the Wall'.....Michael Jackson was a showman, above and beyond anything and everything else, he was a showman equaled by none. He was planning to open his new road show in August and all the media was on top of it. His 'secret rehearsals" were being leaked to the media...and he knew it. What if, just go with me on this one...just what if Michael wanted to do an exit equal to no one before him....I mean, what if he planned this entire thing? Is that crazy to think like that? It just came to me in an instant and a flash....he planned this. I know he did. Michael didn't accidently pass away. His heart wasnt in trouble...he was older, tired, he couldnt top himself in any way I don't think. Well, that isnt fair. Maybe he would have been able to, but just what if he wanted to go out in a bigger, badder, most amazing way possible. Who could top this? NO one...that's who...no one.

He had been judged, picked on, riduculed, falsly accused and made fun of. Not one comedien can say they didnt make some horrid joke at his expense...so maybe, just maybe he wanted to have that last laugh. I wouldn't be surprised one bit. You did everything you wanted to do down here, he had bigger better roads to travel. I just wish with every fiber of my being that he was the one in charge of his last performance.

I have been watching all of this memorial and it has just been so beautifully done and so tastefully executed. I grew up with him. Every good memory of my life has one of his songs playing in the background. I just cannot believe he is gone and I know where ever he is, he is getting a great laugh, a great sense of accomplisment. ALl those stories that were put out about him, he was the one that put them out there. The sleeping in a hypobaric chamber at night..wanting to buy the Elephant Man's bones...he put that out there. All of it. So why couldnt he, why Wouldnt he make this, the most amazing statement of his life. He has single handidly made all of the people of the world join hands, hearts and minds to remember him and all he offered this world. Is it that off the way to think that he could do something like that? I dont know, no one will ever know...well, one person will but he his lips are forever sealed.
God loved you, God gave you to us and Now you are in his hands for all eternity. Thank you Michael Jackson....for making the soundtrack of my life so fucking awesome.

I Can Draw

I have been doing some drawing lately. I never knew I had this talent. I used to love caligraphy and doing different types of lettering...but as far as actually looking at something and putting it on paper, I had no clue I could do it. I started out copying stuff, well, truth be told that's how I do all my drawings is by looking at something and copying it. I don't trace it...I just reproduce it.

I have nothing interesting to write about today and I don't want to fake it, so, I will just leave it at this. I am angry at Dawn, I am angry that I can't find a job. I am angry that I can't lose weight and I am angry that I live in an apartment with an old bitch beneath me that hates me, no matter how hard I try to be cordial to her. She is hell bent on getting me kicked out of here. She keeps telling the landlord that Dawn lives here...Dawn does live here but I do not believe in having to pay more money. I have been a good respectful, rent paying on time tenant. HE (landlord/owner) needs to cut me some slack. Dawn parks her car at her parents and walks here to come home. Really, she isnt here but 3 days per week...so fuck him. I am not paying extra money for her to stay here. She is my friend and can stay here as long as she wants to. Even though she has brought me nothing but pain and anguish than anything and I still stand up for her, help her, pay for her, lie for her...if one didn't know any better one would think I was gay or something. I am not gay. Anyone that knows me knows that. I dont know why i like her so much. On a scale of one to ten as a friend...Dawn is like a 2. And on that note I am going to end this

Our Media Goes Over the Top.....Again

If a stranger from another planet were to land on earth and tune into the news, they would think that the untimely passing of Michael Jackson is the biggest story of our life time. So big in fact that it required 3 montages of inappropriate television coverage.

1st example of unneccessary headlines:
* Michael Jackson joins the list of top earning dead celebrities
* CBS does a break down of his plastic surgery time line
* Michael Jackson is rumored to have had an affair with Marcia Brady
* Where in the world IS Bubbles?
* Special report "Meeting Bubbles"* Bubbles tells of his sexual abuse at the hands of Michael* Michael Jackson never came to visit Bubbles
On Larry King the other night, he was stumbling through his report on Michael Jackson by saying, "He won 13 Emmy's (looking off stage)...what? Grammy's?? (back to facing the cameras)He won 13 Emmys and 13 Grammy's?? (looking off stage) What?...just 13 Grammy's?? (Facing the camera)Oh Good Lord, what ever...Rest in Peace Michael Jordan"

The 2nd form of innapprporate information is the fact that this dead guy isn't going to get any deader, but the media needs to keep this story sensational by playing "Where's Waldo - The Cadaver Version". I do not understand this horrible obsession with where his body is being kept. I watched and listened to 10 different reporters at several different live feed locations saying stupid things like this:

"Michael Jackson's body is here"
"Michael Jackson's body is over there"
"Michael Jacksons' body is at Forrest Lawn Memorial Park"
"Michael Jackson's body is missing"
"The Body is being kept in a secret location"
"Nobody knows where Michael Jackson's body is at this point. It could be anybodies guess"
OH MY GOD WHO CARES...HE'S DEAD, LEAVE HIM ALONE. We'll see his casket at the funeral...LET HIM REST IN PEACE

And then finally, the 3rd form of useless and inappropriate news reporting
Random and utterly useless speculation:
Did Michael Jackson have a secret girlfriend?
Is he going to be bigger than ever?
Nancy Gray - "Did he use an alias?"
E News - "Did he look drugged out to you?"
CNN - "Did he have a secret drug stash?"
TMZ - " Arnie Klein may have taken him down to Mexico to bleach his genitals"
ABC's Today, "Will Diana Ross take over the roll as Mommy?"
CBS - "Reports say that Michael Jackson was trying to look like Diana."
NBC - "This just in...Barry Manilow will escort Elizabeth Taylor to the funeral"
Random Mr. Speculator Dude showing a picture of a document, "the latest is that the document found at Neverland Ranch is said to either be Michael's last will and testament, meticulously arranged by the most qualified estate attornies in the world....or...it's the map of Narnia.

With the passing of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson this is a sad time for everyone...well...not everyone...it isn't making Governor Mark Sanford sad...you know, the guy who went to Argentina, cheated on his wife with a girl named Maria. He was the talk of the town but not anymore. He thinks he is the luckiest guy in the world.

In other news, Kate of Jon and Kate = Hate....has pushed back the release date of her new cook book titled "Love is In the Mix - Making Meals into Memories". When it is released, it will probably be renamed "If You're Hungry - Have Your 23 Year Old Girlfriend Microwave You A Burrito"

And that's it for my take on how our media is making this horrible time for the families of Michael and Farrah just that much more miserable. If they had any class or respect, they would put a stop to all this bullshit, print a nice obituary and move on to something else. We know Michael Jackson was one of the greatest, most amazing performers of our time. It saddens me that his death has completely overshadowed Farrah's.I think her death is just as heartbreaking as his, but she wasn't the King of Pop. She was just a kind, loving, beautiful actress that could have given lessons on being tactful and acting like a lady even in times of great stress and family drama.

I will miss them both very much but if things were going my way, I wouldnt hear either of their names again when I turned on my TV or opened my newspaper or when I was standing in line at the grocery store. What's your take on all of this?

A Different Drug Problem

The other day some dude at a convenience store was reading out loud that another Meth Lab had been found in an old farm house in Granite Falls. He turned to me and asked the rhetorical question, 'Why didn't' we have drug problems when you and I were growing up?"

I told him to speak for himself, that I had a drug problem when I was young; I was drug to church on Easter and when Presidents got shot, to funerals and weddings. I was drug to family gatherings like Christmas and Thanksgiving.
I was drug by my hair when I talked back. I was also drug into my bedroom for a belt whipping when I disobeyed, told a lie, didn't do my chores, or didn't speak with respect put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.

I was drug into the bathroom to have my mouth washed out with soap if I talked back or uttered a profanity. I was drug outside to pull weeds in my moms rose garden, to rake leaves, pick up the walnuts that fell from our tree in Sacramento. I was drug to the homes of family friends to watch Superbowl football games and to my moms AA meetings.

Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack or heroin; and, if today's children had this kind of drug problem, American would be a better place.
God Bless the parents who drugged us.

The Celebration of Two Different Nations

Well, Happy Birthday America. Everyone living in our state knows where the best works are sold. It's on the "Tulalipo Indian Reservation" aka "The Rez" and "Boom City. These aren't your mother's firework stands. Oh no....Sure you can get your "safe and sane" sparklers and bottle rockets but if you know the right booth to go to and give the right 'password' to the right person , you can get some of their 'private stash'. They will bring out the REAL firework, the big dogs. We're talking about the M-80s, M-200 up to the M-2 billions. These are little sticks of dynamite that can really cause some serious damage if not used "properly" (From all I know, the only 'proper' use for dynamite is to destroy large buildings and excavate coal/diamonds/silver or gold)

The profit the Native Americans make is comparable only to that made by selling drugs. On an average they make a profit in the 6 figure range, if not more. The more booths a family has, the more money they make. What they pay .50 cents for, they can turn around and sell for $5.00. and here's something I find ironic as hell. What we call the "Birth of our Nation" the Native Americans consider being the death of theirs. Now they make a profit selling us the very materials we need to celebrate this day properly. What went around is sure coming back around big time. The first explorers from Europe ripped this land from the hands of the Native Americans..it was a horrible, bloody and completely UNFAIR war but turn the clock forward 200 years and now those Natives are making a killing of a different kind by selling us the very materials we need to make a good...no...a great party.

Those 'Settlers" tried to extinguish and squash the very life out of these beautiful people but they weren't able to. The natives were a strong and very proud, intelligent group of people and they came through that horrible time still standing.

The Tulalip Tribe has built one of the most BOMB (no pun intended) casinos in our country. When you go there, it is like you have left this world and gone to paradise (Otherwise known as Vegas). It is unbelievable that a small, quiet village of people who were trampled into the ground came back stronger than ever. I applaud their strength and passion. It is the birthday of our country but don't forget that there is probably another type of celebration going on at the same time.

Happy Birthday America and Congratulations to the Native Americans for surviving such a horrible holocaust and coming out of it so very proud and strong.

On Getting Your Skin Tanned

I just came home from a nice tanning session. I was lying in there and I got to thinking about some stuff. I remembered when I first moved up here from California in 1979. I had endured my first 7 months of solid rain and it was June...I wanted to find out if there were any of those tanning parlors up here that I had heard about when I lived in California. I figured a state with as much rain as this one had, that there just had to be a tanning parlor somewhere. I had heard rumors from my friends before moving up here that Washington had the highest suicide rate of any state in the nation because people got so depressed by the rainy weather. I was beginning to believe them.

I had seen a business downtown with a sign that said "Quil Ceda Tanning". I went to the phone book and found "their number and I called them to find out about their prices. The lady on the phone told me that the price depended on the "Skin size". She went on to tell me that smaller skins started at $40, medium skins began at $75 and large skins were $100 plus depending on the 'square inches' to be tanned. This was sure a strange way to talk about her customers. Was this trade jargon or something? Did all tanning parlor owners call their customers their "Skins"? I had never heard that before but I didn't want to sound stupid so I went along with it. What I did know was that I was Caspar Ghost white in the middle of June and didn't like it so I told her I wanted to book an appointment. I told her I didnt know if I fell into the 'small or medium skin' catagory but she told me not to worry about it, that she could measure "it" when I got there. What the hell was she talking it "It"? Was only a part of me going to be tanned at a time? Did I go in sections? I had no idea. I asked her what times she had available and there was another silence for a few seconds then she said, "We don't really take appointments hon... We are a first come first serve kind of operation so just come on down and we we'll take care of ya."

That's was it, I had reached my limit. I said to her,"What do you mean you don't take appointments? What if I drive all the way down there and you are all filled up? And one more thing, why do you keep calling me a 'skin'?" There was a short pause followed by her cracking up so hard I could hear her run out of breath and then start laughing again. ..she finally said, "Hon, are you looking for a sun tanning parlor?" I said, "Yes, what did you think I was looking for?"....she then informed me that Quil Ceda Tanning was a hide-tanning business that handled animal skins like deer, moose and elk, stuff like that; that they weren't a sun tanning parlor.

Did I feel like crawling into a deep dark hole? Why yes....yes I did. I apologized to her, well... after she stopped laughing. She said it was ok, that she thanked me for breaking her bordom and for giving her something so hilarious to share with her customers. I didn't know how to respond to that so I hung up and didnt' pursue that idea anymore....I just decided maybe it wasn't so bad being pale. If I really wanted to blend in and become a true Washingtonian I needed to look like an albino until the sun came back from it's 7 month hiatus just like everybody else did. About two days later, the sun came out and didn't go away again for a good long time. The people were right. It may rain alot up here, but when that sun finally does makes its yearly appearance, it is so beautiful that you forget how horrible the winter was.

Wanted: Common Sense For My Friend

I am continually amazed at the level of unconsciousness that my dear friend Dawn exists in. She has no idea of her surroundings from day to day. She wakes up, hits the floor running, doesn’t look to the left or to her right or behind her......she just leads with her head until she slams into her next experience. That experience will always be a complete surprise to her and she will have no idea how she got there or how to get out of it other than to scrape, grovel, fumble and beg for help out of it, which she inevitably will get out of it. She will then shake her head, dust herself off and then plow headlong into her next encounter.

I have no choice but to sit back and watch this exhibit of utter foolishness. I have no words to describe how frustrated I have become with her. I try and try to talk to her, to educate her, to encourage and challenge her to be more aware of her surroundings, but those words fall on deaf ears.

Listen, I am not perfect angel, not by any means. I have crawled on my hands and knees to get to where I am today. Barely alive, merely existing, trying to put meaning and purpose to my life and though I have not accomplished much in my 50 years on Mother Earth, I have managed to survive myself and have figured out a way to get out of my way so that I may learn the lessons presented to me by the experiences I encounter on a daily basis. I am one of those fortunate people who are able to learn the lesson given by the ‘mistakes’ and “accidents’ I have. I know there is no such thing as an accident, coincidence or mistake.......all of those words translates to mean ‘lesson’. If those lessons are not learned, it will be offered again wearing a different disguise. But I did eventually get it....finally.

I certainly didn’t learn any of it over night. Nope, it took me 14 treatment centers, 3 stays in jail, 117 jobs, 13 different cities, 9 boyfriends, 3 husbands, countless ‘best friends’ and 2 real parents and 7 ‘steps’ and a plethora of steps, halves and foster brothers and sisters. All of that combined taught me very valuable lessons that I will not forget or repeat......well, ok; I did repeat several mistakes time and time again. I still don’t have a grasp on the job thing. I don't suppose I ever really will although I am willing to do just about anything to be given another chance in the working world.

I am beginning to think that Dawn is my new job. A job I didn’t apply for, didn’t sign up for, I certainly didn’t accept it, well, not verbally but I guess my offering her a place to live speaks otherwise doesn’t it? I have always been around her, following her, begging and beseeching her to change her addicted ways. Now she is clean but just that...take the drugs away from an dingbat and you have a clean and sober...dingbat.I have pleaded with her to stop doing what she is doing so she will stop getting what she is getting but she seems to be impervious to my advice and is testing the very marrow of my countenance; not to mention putting some serious pressure on her peace of mind.

The latest fix she has gotten herself into is having her car towed. Now, for most of us this situation would not have occured because we would have looked up to see the 5 signs stating that any unauthorized vehicles parked in this spot would be towed at the owner’s expense. Well, I really doubt we would have needed to see those signs because they were on the wall of the apartment building next door to my apartment. Yes, she parked in the “Guest” parking space at the apartments next door. Why anyone would park their car in such an idiotic place is beyond me......but remember, we are talking about Dawn.......god love her.
When Dawn saw the word “Guest” painted on the asphalt, in her mind it read “Anyone who needs a place to park”. She didn’t see the big white sign on the wall right in front of the parking space that said, ‘
GUEST PASS REQUIRED OR CAR WILL BE TOWED AT THE OWNERS EXPENSE”.

You might be asking yourself, “Gee, you would think that she’d be safe parking there for just one hour”.....You see, she has used up every single solitary bit of good karma she ever had in her entire life. Dawn has no ‘Get out of jail free’ cards in life anymore. She used them all up. So did I.......that is the reason my life is so uneventful and serene. I don’t temp fate anymore. I don't push my luck because I no longer have any. I used it all up a millions times over.......every overdose I survived, every drug I put in my arm that wasn’t laced with some lethal toxic chemical that should have killed me......every shady, unscrupulous, rotten to the core person I allowed to come into my life/my home/drive my car/borrow my money/use my drugs......that used up all of my good karma. I now just have to rely on making good choices and decisions to make sure I don't get into situations where I am in need of ‘luck’ or ‘good fortune’ to get me out. If I can't pay my way or talk my way out of something, I am just going to have to stay there until something better happens along.

As for Dawn......I don't know what is going to happen to her. Notice I said ‘to her’ and not ‘for her’. Life happens to Dawn, not the other way around. I had a friend who said there are 3 kinds of people. Those who watch things happen...... those who make things happen and those who wonder what happened. My lil friend Dawnee unfortunately falls into that latter category and I think she is going to remain there for the duration of her life. Unless the “Good Sense Fairy” flies in her window and taps her on the head with her ‘Get-a-Clue Wand’......I just don't see her changing categories anytime soon.

The Paradox of Our Times

this was sent to me in an email years ago and I copied it down and I just came across it again so I will share it with you now:

The Paradox of Our Time:
Today we have bigger houses, and smaller families.
More convenience but less time.
We have more degrees but less common sense
More knowledge but less judgment
We have more experts, but more problems.
More medicine, but less wellness
We spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
Drive too fast, get angry too quickly,
Stay up too late, read too little.
Watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We multiply our possessions but reduce our values
we talk too much, love too little, lie too often.
We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life.
We’ve added years to our lives but not life to our years.
We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers
Wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints
We spend more but have less
We buy more, but enjoy less
We’ve been to the Moon and back
But we have trouble crossing the street
To meet our neighbors
We’ve conquered outer space
But not inner space
We’ve split the atom
But not our prejudices
We write more, learn less, plan more but accomplish less
We’ve learned to rush but not to wait
We have higher incomes, but lower morals
We build more computers but have less information
To produce more copies but have less connections
We are long on quantity but less on quality
These are the times of fast food but slow digestion

I think this may have come from George Carlin, but I am not sure. If you know who wrote it, let me know because I sure love it.

Why Is Doing the Right Thing So Expensive?

was grocery shopping with my friend yesterday and I went to grab my petroleum free, vegetable oil based, no animal tested, biodegradable, "Green" bottle of dish soap and it was $3.29. That bottle of soap represents the saving of something like 4,000 barrels of oil per bottle. That is amazing....A regular 'dangerous planet damaging" dish soap was $1.99. I want to eat cage free, range roaming chicken and eggs...that is $5.29 per carton. Regular eggs from tortured, abused, beekless, featherless, antibiotic riddled, sad and unhealthy chickens are $1.89 a dozen. I want to eat healthy, farm raised, antibiotic and growth hormone free meat. That costs 4 times as much as factory farm, diseased, beaten down, terrified, miserable, hormone and drug riddled meat. Back to the chickens...have you ever been behind or next to one of those big trucks filled with cages of chickens headed to "chicken hell'? It will be like 35 degrees out, this truck has absolutely NOTHING covering these poor creatures, the few feathers that they have are wind blown right off of them, they are stacked cage upon cage, and inside the cage they are stacked chicken upon chicken. Tell me, do you want to eat anything that comes from an animal that has that horrid a life? I mean, I know that animals are eaten, I eat them. I am a carnivore...but do we really need to make what few days they have on this planet so god damnes miserable? Do we really need to treat them so heartlessly and horribly? They do feel pain. They feel cold, heat, moisture, snow and all the other enviromental things we feel...do we have to pretend that they are not alive and treat them without one single shred of compassion or humanity?

I have derailed my train of thought once again....forgive me.

WHY DO "THEY" MAKE IT SO EXPENSIVE TO DO THE RIGHT THING? I know people who are not recycling because it costs them extra money per month on their garbage bill if they want to receive curb side pick up. Other reasons are because it is:
1. Too far from home
2. Too inconvenient

If you want to eat more healthy food and live on a budget, good luck. It is possible but it sure is very difficult. One would think that if they have taken something out of a product, that it would be less expensive. Taking sugar out of something makes it more expensive...taking fat out of something, they just put in more sugar and that is not a fair trade off. Fat doesn't make people fat....sugar makes people fat but that is a whole other blog. I just wonder how come if there is less of something in a product, why it costs more. Why do 'they' make it so expensive to be healthy? (and of course, it goes without saying...who are 'they anyways?)It boils down to this. If people are more healthy, they can work harder and be more productive and live longer and do more work which makes this a better planet so it is cost effective to make healthy food affordable for the average person. I can't afford the types of healthy food I would like to eat because I am on a fixed income. Organic food is 3 times more expensive than non organic...THEY ARE USING LESS PESTICIDES TO GROW IT SO WHY IS IT MORE EXPENSIVE. All they use is dirt and water to grow it. I don't get it. Same thing for factory farm raised animals. Organically raised just means they dont get antibiotics or growth hormones...that is less expensive to raise so why is their meat so much more spendy? It makes no sense.

Truth be told, I was "Green" long before it was fashionable thanks to my mother. We didn't burn through our plastic cups in the summer. We had one cup with our name on it. We reused our paper plates if they weren't damaged. My mom would get miles out of her tin foil because after using it, she washed it, dried it, and used it again. We had this little tool that you put on your tube of toothpaste that made rolling it down to the very last tiny bit easier to do. It looked like the key from a sardine can. I have looked for them but can't find them anywhere. We are such a wasteful society today. I can make a roll of tin foil last me almost one year. Same thing with my zip lock quart sized plastic bags. I use them over and over until they no longer zip or lock.

I saw a lady that used her plastic grocery bags to make throw rugs out of. No kidding. She rolled them up some way making them easy to crochet and away she went. They were so cool. Water proof, rugged and not bad looking. Perfect for front or back door mats. They were also great for putting in the bath tub for a 'non slip' surface.

Bottom line, if our planet is in need of us being more thoughtful about the products we use and if our bodies are in need of healthy, chemical and pesticide free food, than the manufacturers need to make them more accessible and take a cut in their profit margin....it wouldn't hurt them to make a few cuts. I do my part, they need to do theirs.

"When I Was Your Age....."

One of my friend's kids asked the other day, "What was your favorite fast food when you were growing up?" "We didn't have fast food when I was growing up," I informed him. "All our food was slow." He said, "C'mon, seriously. Where did you eat?" I told him, "It was a place called 'at home,'" I found I had to explain to him some facts of our life. I remember when I was young and my dad would say "When I was your age...." and now I was going to get my chance.

I told him, "MOM cooked every day. We sat down together at the dining room table,and if I didn't like what she put on my plate I was allowed to sit there until I did like it. If I didn't develope a taste for it that night, I would have another chance at it again the next morning and every meal time after that until I did." When I saw the movie "Mommie Dearest" I must say I was stunned to see that Joan Crawford pulled that same bullshit on her kid. Damn....if only I had been adopted by some famous aging Hollywood Starlet, I could have written my book so much sooner and had an audience already waiting to read what ever it was that I had to say. Back to my story....

By this time, the kid was laughing so hard I was afraid he was going to suffer serious internal damage, so I didn't tell him the part about how I had to have permission to leave the table. But here are some other things I would have told them about my childhood if I figured his system could have handled it. Some things like:

Some parents never owned their own houses or wore Levis, set foot on a golf course, traveled out of the country or had a credit ".card. In their later years they had something called a revolving charge card. The card was good only at Sears Roebuck. Or maybe it was Sears AND Roebuck, either way, there is no Roebuck anymore. Maybe he died. My Mom never drove me to soccer practice. This was mostly because we had never heard of soccer. I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only had one speed... me peddling... slowly.

We didn't have a color television in our house until I was 11, but my neighbor had one before that. It was, of course, black and white, but they bought a piece of colored plastic to cover the screen. The top third was blue, like the sky, and the bottom third was green, like grass. The middle third was red. It was perfect for all programs, specially those that had scenes of fire trucks riding across some one's lawn on a sunny day. Some people had a lens taped to the front of the TV to make the picture look larger.

I was 13 before I tasted my first pizza, it was called "pizza pie." When I bit into it, I burned the roof of my mouth and the cheese slid off, swung down, plastered itself against my chin and burned that, too. It's still the best pizza I ever had.
The only car in our family was my dad's Ford. He called it "machine." I never had a telephone in my room. The only phone in the house was in the kitchen on the wall and it was a dial style and ugly mustard like yellow. Lots of the phones at my friends houses were on a party line. Before you could dial, you had to listen and make sure some people you didn't know weren't already using the line. When we were bored, we would listen in on their conversations...

Pizzas were not delivered to our home. But milk was. [In bottles !!!!] All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers. My brother delivered a newspaper, six days a week. It cost 20 cents a paper, of which he got to keep 4 cents. He had to get up at 4 AM every morning. On Saturday, he had to collect his money from his customers. His favorite customers were the ones who gave him 50 cents and told him to keep the change. His least favorite customers were the ones who seemed to never be home on collection day.

Movie stars kissed with their mouths shut. At least, they did in the movies. Touching someone else's tongue with yours was called "French kissing" and they didn't do that in movies. I don't know what they did in French movies. French movies were dirty and we weren't allowed to see them.

Growing up isn't what it used to be, is it? My aunt & uncle cleaned out her mother's house (when she died) and they brought me an old Royal Crown Cola bottle. In the bottle top was a stopper with a bunch of holes in it. I knew immediately what it was. They thought she had tried to make it a salt shaker or something. I knew it as the bottle that sat on the end of the ironing board to "sprinkle " clothes with before they invented steam irons. Man, I am old. How many of these do you remember? Head lights dimmer switches on the floor. Ignition switches on the dashboard. Heaters mounted on the inside of the fire wall. Real ice boxes. Pant leg clips for bicycles without chain guards. [or a clothespin] Unless yuor folks had more money and then you could have a "Varoom Engine". Do you remember using hand signals for older cars without turn signals. I still see hand signals but I don't think they have anything to do with turning

Count all the ones that you remember not the ones you were told about.
Ratings at the bottom.
1. Blackjack chewing gum [and Teaberry] or Sen Sen
2. Wax Coke-shaped bottles with colored sugar water and wax lips
3. Candy cigarettes
4. Soda pop machines that dispensed glass bottles
5. Coffee shops or diners with tableside juke boxes
6. Home milk delivery in glass bottles with cardboard stoppers
7. Party lines
8. Newsreels before the movie
9. P.F. Flyers
10. Butch wax
11. Telephone numbers with a word prefix (OLive-6933)
12. Peashooters [Still get that urge when somebody bends
over and creates a great target
13. Howdy Doody, Bennie & Cecil, Rough & Ready, Space Ghost and Felix the Cat (G rated)
14. 45 RPM records
15. S&H Green Stamps & Blue Chip
16. Hi-fi's [Man, Deb could really dance to this music in front of my bedroom mirror.]
17. Metal ice trays with lever
18. Mimeograph paper
19. Blue flashbulb
20. Packards
21. Roller skate keys
22. Cork popguns
23. Drive-ins
24. Studebakers
25. Wash tub wringers [Judy's arm has painful memories of this one! ]
If you remembered 0-5 = You're still young
If you remembered 6-10 = You are getting older
If you remembered 11-15 = Don't tell your age
If you remembered 16-25 = You're older than dirt!
I might be older than dirt but those memories are the
best part of my life.

I remember taking milk money to school. I remember having a coat room and teachers that paddled you if you were bad. "Assume the position"..Mr. Britton was our "Paddle Master"..and no kid would dare think of suing anyone. We got hit with a belt. We got smacked up side the head, parents smoked in front of us. We made cocktails for our parents guests and felt very grown up. I didn't wear a helmet on my bike...and we didn't have safety regulations. We played with lawn darts for goodness sake...after drinking alcohol!!! That our parents gave us...(holiday's only....or so they thought :)

We weren't protected, insulated, padded or programed. We walked several blocks to the bus stop for school. Parents didn't wait outside with us in the snow, and our bus didn't' stop at every driveway to see that child got home safely. We went trick or treating until late in the night, dressed up and on our own...well.. in a pack of kids. We looked great and we were safe.

My Mattel "Creepy Crawler" maker was a very hot 300 degree metal hot plate where I took liquid plastic, poured it into metal molds and then with no heat protection, safety goggles, parental supervision we played with and poked, spilled, burned the crap out of ourselves and it was all just fine, we all lived and we learned how to behave with some common sense and confidence.

My Easy Bake Oven was a 100 watt light bulb in a plastic box with tin racks that we baked little cakes and stuff in. It was so easy to use and I never had a horrible accident....never. ( I was the best cook on the block too!)

No one wore a seat belt. Listening to the news they are now going to require kids under 4' 9" to sit in a booster seat, that is about an 8 year old kid. Can you imagine being made to sit in a booster seat at that age? Oh man...I would have walked rather than endure that humiliation....but if our parents said we had to...we did it. We had "healthy fear". No one wanted to make your parents mad...especially your dad. And to get sent to the Principal...never happened in my lifetime. Listening to the news and hearing about kids bringing guns to school...not even on the Richter scale no way no how. Getting in trouble hurt back then and there was no "calling the police" on your parents. Nope, we would have not lived long enough to make it to the phone.

I liked growing up when we did. I am proud to have caught the tail end of the generation of innocence We were young, and naive, innocent and ignorant....and we were ecstatic to be alive. We weren't savvy or sophisticated....nope. We didn't care what our mom's picked out for us to wear. School clothes shopping was all about a $100 bill....that was it. No name brand nothing. We wore our clothes, they didn't wear us.

One Confused Blogger

Hi kids...it's me. I have spent the last hour switching things around in here. I didn't like the title "What's the Buzz". I have always wanted a column in the paper called 'As Susan Sees IT"...I didn't realize that if I ran all those words together that the first word seen would be "Ass"...but oh well, that's just how i roll.
ANyways, I have moved things around, there are stories and journal entries out of place and mixed up...but hey, how do ya love the black background?
I am going to keep it this way from now on.
Go ahead and read this over, get caught up and then I promise no more drastic changes from here on out. Lose that 'Sploozy-whatsthebuzz.blogspot.com' address and put this in its place....well, now that I think about it...You don't have to do anything. I did it for you with my link. Like i said before, I am new at this and still have a few bugs to work out but I promise it will get better and pretty soon this will look like the most professional blog aorund.
One thing i have to ask..when I was checking my old one out...all the subtitles/names of each post vanished until I drug my mouse over the top of it,then it would appear. That is what made me start this whole process to begin with. I wanted to know where my titles went. So, instead of trying to figure that out, i just started a whole new freaking blog. I cut and pasted my way though this hellacious project and I will be damned if I am going to go back and figure out what was wrong with the old one. I also found out this has "Spell check" so you won't be wading through all my dyslexic typos...I switch letters at the end of my words...you find 'thta' and 'haev' and 'dotn' and 'statr' alot didn't ya? well, now I will take tha textra bit of trouble and correct them. I swear, it isn't because I am stupid or can't type. I just get going so fast that my fingers swtich up the letters. I hvae (see? I didnt correct that on purpose so you would see what I was talking about).
I have all those words saved on my 'AutoCorrect' on WORD...but not everything I type on does it.

Ok well...now that's out of the way...Please stay tuned for more adventures, more opinions and firey comments on life from me. Please feel free to comment.
Some are having problems when posting comments. When it asks for your 'profile' just click on that box and select 'google' what ever ...it likes that answer. It fucks with me when I tried to leave a comment on my own blog...so I feel your pain, I really do.

Have wonderful days, all of you and remember..
Gorgeous the Life
Susan/aka sploozy aka Shorty aka Sam

The Day After

I am so very very sad. Both of my very favorite celebrities died on the same day. I only had two posters in my life, one of Farrah Fawcett and the other was of Michael Jackson. I just can't believe he died. I knew she was on her way out........I looked for the news of it every day. When I saw it, I was happy for her, she was so tired of fighting.......but when I was napping and heard on the TV that Michael had died......I just was devastated. That poor, misunderstood rich, isolated, incredibly gifted creature. I never believed that sex shit said about him. I knew for a fact that he didn't have one sexual predator bone in his body. He didn’t have a sexual drive like most men.......he was very child like and his testosterone levels were below average.......obvious in his voice, lack of body hair and other signs. His longing to be with kids was his natural desire to be with his own kind and I believe every word he said about how in his mind there was nothing wrong with sharing a bed with friends, that was a sign of love.......i know he probably shouldn’t have done it or the people around him should have advised him of how people that didn’t know him were going to take it......but I never for once bought into the lynch mob mentality.......never. he probably never had real sex, or if he did, once or twice and didn’t like it. he talks about when his little girlfriend Jodi Foster once invited him over and told him what she was going to do to him when he got there. he blushed when telling the story and could barely look up to face the camera. He had no manly desires. He was an innocent, very rare creature that will only come our way once in a very rare while.......we won't see another one of him in our life time......i don't think anyone ever will again.

Ok enough on how I feel ......i sat and watched the back to back memorial shows on both of them last night and sobbed my heart out. It was a cleansing cry. I don't cry much anymore......hardly ever......so when I get a chance to, I make sure I use it......all the things I am sad about, I think of and put those healing tears to work......it felt good. Dawnee was on the floor sobbing along with me. when they showed her grown son, in his jail jumpsuit, leg chains on, climb in bed next to her and whisper “Mommy”......oh God.......she didn’t know he was in jail. Ryan didn’t want her to hurt any more than she was. That horrid jail didn’t let him out to be with her in her final hours. I think that is inhumane......but I understand. That’s why it is called ‘jail’. He is hooked on heroin. I am going to write him a letter. yep, I am......i am going to tel him my heart goes out to him losing his mother and that I have information that may be helpful to him if he wants to hear it. I know where he is and how he feels......on all counts. From being in jail, losing his Mom, being a slave to heroin.......having a bad relationship with his Dad......siblings......all of it. we are kindred spirits if ever there were any.

The Day The Music Died

had the saddest day yesterday. not one but two, my top very favorite famous people died yesterday. Both of them on the same day. What are the odds of that happening? I never was one much for buying albums or posters but i had both of those items when it came to Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. I worked at a gift store in Hayward in 1977 right after that famous poster of Farrah's came out. I had to own one. I am not a gay women. I just thought that she was so gorgeous, it exceeded gender boundaries. Her smile, her hair, her expression. Pure joy and innocence and yes sexuality at such a pure level.

Michael Jackson, wearing his famous black sparkly suit, standing up on his tip toes, holding his 'area' with his hat tipped so smartly down over one eye. The night on MTV video awards when he did that famous Moon walk. I had that poster. I loved him. We grew up together. His birthday was one week before mine. I felt that connected us on some weird level. His being born in the same time I was. We were the same age. I grew up listening to his velvet voice, starting out with ABC and moving on to 'One More Chance"...."Got to Be There and 'Ben"...my very favorite because I loved that movie and had a rat named 'Socra-Ben" for both Socrates and Ben from the movie.

My friend and I sat and watched the back to back special programs about both of them. We both were sobbing like two little girls who had lost their best friends. I had just viewed that special "Farrah's Story'...it was so gut wrenching to see her put herself out there for all the world to see her valiant battle against her demon cancer. She let us watch her in her most intimate moments, throwing up, losing that glorious hair, being weak and vulnerable. Who does that? Oh god, when her 24 year old son crawled up on to her bed, wearing his jail jumpsuit and leg irons and laid next to her and whispered 'Mommy" I thought I heard my heart crack right there inside of my chest. She didn't know he was in jail, Ryan had kept it from her. "Why let her know that" he exclaimed. "It would only cause her more pain and we were not going to let that happen"....his love for her was real.


We have always heard about Ryan O'Neal as that bad guy with the hot temper....but Farrah did something to him. She found his softer more gentle side and we rarely got to see that. I find it completely ironic that he found stardom playing the young husband Oliver who loses the love of his life to cancer........how freaking weird that he would experience the real side of that some 40 years later.

As for Michael....I have a strange sense that he is feeling a peace now that has excaped him his entire life. farrah was able to get out of the publics scrutiny for quite some time, but Michael was always out on front street, having those horrible and very false accusations made against him. I never once believed any of those stupid stories. Michael Jackson was so immature in that area of his life...he didn't have a sexual predator bone in his body. When he said it gave him joy to be around children, he meant it in the most genuine and innocent way. When he said, "What better way to share love and space than to share your bed with someone." i knew he meant that at its most innocent level. Kids spend the night with each other, and he was just one big kid. He never 'grew up' in the technical sense of the word. His talent kept him apart from the 'normal' 50 year old, or 40 or 30 or 20..he tried but he never quite convinced me. I knew he struggled with gender and 'the norm'. He did what society expected of a man of his age and sexual identity....he married...I would bet the last few thousand dollars I have in my trust fund that he and Lisa Marie Presely never had sex...and if they did....it was brief, rare and as uncomfortable as it could possibly be.

His genius went beyond gender. He had no sexual proclavity......he was a beam of light, going beyond the normal boundaries of our definitions and limits and barries, titles and catagories. He was a catagory unto himself. He was Michael Jackson and he will always remain a star in my heart and the millions of hearts he touched in his way too short life here on earth.

God Bless you Farrah. God Bless you Michael. I feel better knowing I have you two to look forward to meeting when I leave this realm. I know that both of you are going places beyond your wildest imaginations. The rewards waiting for you both are going to blow your minds. Michael, what couldnt be given back to you down here, for all that was taken...will be given back 10 fold in heaven. God knew you were innocent and he loves you just as you are....and so do I.

Farrah..in heaven your hair is back, golden and as beautiful as ever. You are playing tennis again, riding your horses, doing your sculpture and will be watching over your soul mate down here. I have a very sad feeling he is going to be joining you very soon. Love like the love you two shared isn't limited by the death of one of you....please watch over him and your son. I am going to write your son a letter. I am a recovered heroin addict and I think I have some ideas and words to share with him that just might make a difference. I sure hope so. If I were able to do something like that for you, my one and only female idol aside from Lucille Ball then by God I will try to do it.

Good bye and May God bless you both.



Your Adoring Fan

Susan Martin