Friday, July 29, 2016
" they didn’t live as victims"
Beilue: Gillette twins overcome mother's murder, graduate top of class at Bushland | Lubbock Online | Lubbock Avalanche-Journal: Reagan Gillette was asleep in her bedroom after 1 a.m. Aug. 22, 2010, when she was startled by three Potter County deputies with flashlights. Do you know where your mom is, they asked. There were noises in the garage.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Whom Do You Trust??? ... To trust means, to put confidence in.
Writer's note: I was so hurt & so upset when I wrote this, that it's actually taken me a week and a half to figure out what happened here - and I almost wanted to then delete this post ... but have instead decided to leave it up and simply add ... "Hello"
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I can name at least one dear friend - I'll call him 'Mr Maps' - would tell me not to write this post ... but, ya know what, now??? Its my blog! So here it goes ... sad to say, I guess I'll have to get into a dissertation (AKA Edith Bunker story ;) ) for this to make sense why it's upsetting me so ...
The year my beloved daddy died, I was very grateful to have 'Dr Belgian' in my corner ... because ... in addition to losing him (bad enough, that!), I lost a number of friends, too: some died (some unexpectedly and too early, a theme in my life, but nevertheless, hard stuff!); some turned their backs on me - one a friend of 19 years who was supposed to have co-conducted my father's funeral but didn't, who gave me a reason - seeing a flag in my life that I seemed to be ignoring - but in all the time since then, has not reconnected or given me 'the WHOLE story' .... an on-again, off-again, friend of 13 years, who was nevertheless dedicated to staying plugged-in with my dad even when we weren't talking ourselves, and who did so via email after I dragged my grieving self all the way to her house for two special days I just didn't feel like celebrating ... my fellow coffee-lover, my daughter, who had finally come back into my life, praise God! answered prayers! and who then went squirrely ... and at the end of going round and round with all these huge losses - including the loss of my childhood home, because I couldn't afford to pay the taxes and I refused to rent out rooms to Craigslist strangers if I couldn't trust a blood relative!, a friend of double-digit years, who helped me relocate above and beyond, and then - completely turned her back on me and stopped talking. In a city and state where I had never been and knew only one other soul. My gut said to recycle myself and my two doggys back to our home state - because it happened so soon, I wasn't even unloaded or unpacked - but I felt 'maybe God wants me here ...???' and so I stayed for 3.5 years and while there were a couple of truly God things about living there -- I should have listened to my gut, because at the end I was so stuck I could hardly put food inside the kitchen cabinets. And, speaking of listening - have still not heard from that friend and have no idea why she did what she did, either. This was the friend who sent me a package faithfully every Friday for years, with all sorts of wonderful things like doggy treats, address labels she printed out herself, newsworthy items, and etc., and you see I wasn't going to miss that, was I?!, because after all! we would be living and seeing each other all the time! - weren't we?!!
In the time I've lived here now, my life has been quieter ... the phonograph record of grief and loss has pretty much stopped spinning, except for my beloved CoCo, and I've had time to. just. be. to. just. heal. And I knew that it would work this way, here, that I would become 'an adaptable bird', because I've lived here previously, and returned for the beauty of the people and the beauty of the area ...
A year ago, someone else moved here, too .... someone I didn't know, but who became a very, very cherished friend. Oh, there were so many things to like about this person! From a surprise postcard and remembering me with newspapers when he traveled, to traveling to the places I'm now able to access because of his photographs, to shared interests - even to the unshared interests .. because this person isn't a clone. And there are areas we are wildly divurgent on. And that was even something that made them a good friend! because we would hit those spots -- smile -- say 'we agree to disagree!' -- and change the subject. No dramarama, which my sensitive self truly can't take any more of, and wants to put in the ancient history file, thank you! so - how truly welcome that all was!
Yes, past tense.
The day that the tragedy in Nice happened, we were sitting outside on a lovely summer evening with a mutual friend ... and, naturally, the event came up in conversation. To the best of my recollection, we weren't even at a point of nearing any wildly divurgent viewpoints - we were simply discussing the facts, 'Joe Friday' ... and then --
He did something he had NEVER done before: he cursed at me in a foreign language (that I actually caught a few words of, and it wasn't 'Happy Birthday') and stormed away, back into his apartment ;- Said mutual friend was gobsmacked, and she continues to remain bewildered, and slightly hurt (its a sensitive time of year for her - one of her sons died at 49 years old at this time, last year), and dropping broad hints that even I can't miss, about - where is he?! - meaning - don't you two have an email connection?!!
I was - astonished ... but honestly didn't think what I couldn't translate meant "the end". So ... I waited. An email. A knock at my door. Something .... Mr. Maps at one point advised me to 'make the first move', and I couldn't! It was like with what happened with Nan, and with Pat -- what the hell happened?! I don't have a CLUE! Where's Vanna White so I can at least buy a vowel?!!
As this has gone on, I've tried -- I've tried to pray. I've tried to let it go. I've tried talking about it (in briefer forms) to those whom I confide in. I've tried not to feel like it's the days of yore again, when that terrible awful year happened that had Dad and Yolanda and Donna and Nan and Brianne and Sue and Pat and moving, but the tsunami has knocked me sideways, just the same. I can't put a fastener over my heart, put on a happy face, and go on with everything - I've never been the poker-faced gal, anyway. I'm no Sigourney Weaver fan, but just walking through my own apartment and seeing little things from this person threatens to rip my heart through my stomach, like in the movie 'The Alien' ... so I've been cleaning other things, and burying myself with my cats and my computer and my coffee and my cigarettes.
Wondering how I arrived at this place again.
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I can name at least one dear friend - I'll call him 'Mr Maps' - would tell me not to write this post ... but, ya know what, now??? Its my blog! So here it goes ... sad to say, I guess I'll have to get into a dissertation (AKA Edith Bunker story ;) ) for this to make sense why it's upsetting me so ...
The year my beloved daddy died, I was very grateful to have 'Dr Belgian' in my corner ... because ... in addition to losing him (bad enough, that!), I lost a number of friends, too: some died (some unexpectedly and too early, a theme in my life, but nevertheless, hard stuff!); some turned their backs on me - one a friend of 19 years who was supposed to have co-conducted my father's funeral but didn't, who gave me a reason - seeing a flag in my life that I seemed to be ignoring - but in all the time since then, has not reconnected or given me 'the WHOLE story' .... an on-again, off-again, friend of 13 years, who was nevertheless dedicated to staying plugged-in with my dad even when we weren't talking ourselves, and who did so via email after I dragged my grieving self all the way to her house for two special days I just didn't feel like celebrating ... my fellow coffee-lover, my daughter, who had finally come back into my life, praise God! answered prayers! and who then went squirrely ... and at the end of going round and round with all these huge losses - including the loss of my childhood home, because I couldn't afford to pay the taxes and I refused to rent out rooms to Craigslist strangers if I couldn't trust a blood relative!, a friend of double-digit years, who helped me relocate above and beyond, and then - completely turned her back on me and stopped talking. In a city and state where I had never been and knew only one other soul. My gut said to recycle myself and my two doggys back to our home state - because it happened so soon, I wasn't even unloaded or unpacked - but I felt 'maybe God wants me here ...???' and so I stayed for 3.5 years and while there were a couple of truly God things about living there -- I should have listened to my gut, because at the end I was so stuck I could hardly put food inside the kitchen cabinets. And, speaking of listening - have still not heard from that friend and have no idea why she did what she did, either. This was the friend who sent me a package faithfully every Friday for years, with all sorts of wonderful things like doggy treats, address labels she printed out herself, newsworthy items, and etc., and you see I wasn't going to miss that, was I?!, because after all! we would be living and seeing each other all the time! - weren't we?!!
In the time I've lived here now, my life has been quieter ... the phonograph record of grief and loss has pretty much stopped spinning, except for my beloved CoCo, and I've had time to. just. be. to. just. heal. And I knew that it would work this way, here, that I would become 'an adaptable bird', because I've lived here previously, and returned for the beauty of the people and the beauty of the area ...
A year ago, someone else moved here, too .... someone I didn't know, but who became a very, very cherished friend. Oh, there were so many things to like about this person! From a surprise postcard and remembering me with newspapers when he traveled, to traveling to the places I'm now able to access because of his photographs, to shared interests - even to the unshared interests .. because this person isn't a clone. And there are areas we are wildly divurgent on. And that was even something that made them a good friend! because we would hit those spots -- smile -- say 'we agree to disagree!' -- and change the subject. No dramarama, which my sensitive self truly can't take any more of, and wants to put in the ancient history file, thank you! so - how truly welcome that all was!
Yes, past tense.
The day that the tragedy in Nice happened, we were sitting outside on a lovely summer evening with a mutual friend ... and, naturally, the event came up in conversation. To the best of my recollection, we weren't even at a point of nearing any wildly divurgent viewpoints - we were simply discussing the facts, 'Joe Friday' ... and then --
He did something he had NEVER done before: he cursed at me in a foreign language (that I actually caught a few words of, and it wasn't 'Happy Birthday') and stormed away, back into his apartment ;- Said mutual friend was gobsmacked, and she continues to remain bewildered, and slightly hurt (its a sensitive time of year for her - one of her sons died at 49 years old at this time, last year), and dropping broad hints that even I can't miss, about - where is he?! - meaning - don't you two have an email connection?!!
I was - astonished ... but honestly didn't think what I couldn't translate meant "the end". So ... I waited. An email. A knock at my door. Something .... Mr. Maps at one point advised me to 'make the first move', and I couldn't! It was like with what happened with Nan, and with Pat -- what the hell happened?! I don't have a CLUE! Where's Vanna White so I can at least buy a vowel?!!
As this has gone on, I've tried -- I've tried to pray. I've tried to let it go. I've tried talking about it (in briefer forms) to those whom I confide in. I've tried not to feel like it's the days of yore again, when that terrible awful year happened that had Dad and Yolanda and Donna and Nan and Brianne and Sue and Pat and moving, but the tsunami has knocked me sideways, just the same. I can't put a fastener over my heart, put on a happy face, and go on with everything - I've never been the poker-faced gal, anyway. I'm no Sigourney Weaver fan, but just walking through my own apartment and seeing little things from this person threatens to rip my heart through my stomach, like in the movie 'The Alien' ... so I've been cleaning other things, and burying myself with my cats and my computer and my coffee and my cigarettes.
Wondering how I arrived at this place again.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Monday, July 11, 2016
Sorry, Charles - it just makes it feel -- long ....
"We believe the LORD is in control, and keeps His promises, then we must trust ... that our hardships have a purpose ..." Charles Stanley
Facebook has come up with this new feature in which it brings up to your newsfeed, some status update you shared years ago, and gives you the option to reshare it again ... several of my friends have done so, usually with updates ....
This morning I logged on FB and I saw a memory I did not necessarily want to recall: the day that I went out in 100 degree heat, to the Community Action Board, to obtain a borrowed window a/c unit, so CoCo and I could survive without getting heatsick.
This woman here knows that it's a spot of gratitude, that they had such a service available, and that it is a reminder to stop and pray for them and all the good they do for others in the previous community where I resided .....
But this is not one of these recalled memories that have me looking wistfully back at another time and place - it reminds me of financial hardship; it reminds me and brings back up all the resentments I have against a certain a/c service dealership that manipulated and misinformed me into a system that took the last of my money, was actually delicate and needed babying, and when that didn't happen - because the pretending-to-be-my-friend serviceman didn't bother filling me in that this new heatpump needed constant and professional upkeep - the whole, expensive system blew, leaving us without cooling in the blazing summer, and heat, when the weather turned (we moved right before Thanksgiving, and we were heating with space heaters then), and reduced the sale price of the house itself, because it didn't have a working unit.. And -- I'm sorry, Charles: it just makes it feel long, when a so-called 'memory' like that pops up on my Facebook feed .... long and tired and hard as nails, and I guess I just need to take a deeper breath and as I said in the last paragraph ... recall the GOOD ONES that have been there, and asking the God of my understanding to bless those, who've been a blessing .....
Facebook has come up with this new feature in which it brings up to your newsfeed, some status update you shared years ago, and gives you the option to reshare it again ... several of my friends have done so, usually with updates ....
This morning I logged on FB and I saw a memory I did not necessarily want to recall: the day that I went out in 100 degree heat, to the Community Action Board, to obtain a borrowed window a/c unit, so CoCo and I could survive without getting heatsick.
This woman here knows that it's a spot of gratitude, that they had such a service available, and that it is a reminder to stop and pray for them and all the good they do for others in the previous community where I resided .....
But this is not one of these recalled memories that have me looking wistfully back at another time and place - it reminds me of financial hardship; it reminds me and brings back up all the resentments I have against a certain a/c service dealership that manipulated and misinformed me into a system that took the last of my money, was actually delicate and needed babying, and when that didn't happen - because the pretending-to-be-my-friend serviceman didn't bother filling me in that this new heatpump needed constant and professional upkeep - the whole, expensive system blew, leaving us without cooling in the blazing summer, and heat, when the weather turned (we moved right before Thanksgiving, and we were heating with space heaters then), and reduced the sale price of the house itself, because it didn't have a working unit.. And -- I'm sorry, Charles: it just makes it feel long, when a so-called 'memory' like that pops up on my Facebook feed .... long and tired and hard as nails, and I guess I just need to take a deeper breath and as I said in the last paragraph ... recall the GOOD ONES that have been there, and asking the God of my understanding to bless those, who've been a blessing .....
Friday, July 8, 2016
It was a joke ... or so I 'thought' ....
One of my favorite things are documentaries - not a real surprise, considering I prefer reading non-fiction 9 to 1, and generally only pick up fiction if it comes recommended ... Last evening, I watched a documentary on Gilberto Valle, the so-called 'cannibal cop' in NYC; once you started watching this particular film, especially when you saw that the title involved the words 'thought police', you could see that perhaps the filmmaker was leaning towards the defense's side - i.e. what is said online is pure fantasy and if we convict this man, than we are being Orwellian thought police and going down a slippery slope - or - was it, now??? .......
Let me start by telling you that I thought I knew what the particulars were, but it wasn't until I started watching this movie - and also doing searches on another webpage - that I realized I didn't - and for me personally, that was a caution: I'm one ready to give my opinion, to tell you what I think, what I believe -- but I didn't have all the facts in this case. Just. the. facts. m'am. Yeahhh -- being a writer, there are several fictional detectives - from Andy Sipowicz to the devout Catholic Irishman in 'Naked City' - that I would like to write this out as fiction and 'with him as a boss' ... to work out all the horror and grossness and looming fear I have now that I have the whole story in front of me ....
There was a wife with a newborn who was looking at a husband never joining her in there martial bed, but instead staying up all night long on the computer - so she did what any intelligent woman would do: she installed spyware. What she found, she brought immediately to the FBI AND moved herself and her baby out of harm's way - kudos to Kathleen!!! Because what she read was about her husband and these online friends with lists of women, including pictures, including herself, with recon he had been able to do because he was a cop and could access the police database and follow women around the city, and exactly how they planned to kidnap, rape, and then cook and eat, these victims.
The jury heard all of this difficult testimony ... and - while they were all agreed that he had misuse of a police database, so "guilty" - the conspiracy to kidnap was one they had to work-out ... and this movie takes you through that process, including an interview with "Juror X", who remained in darkness, and understandably so! ... Along with this, there were interviews with all types of top psychologists and writers in the field, and you started to put pieces together on your own: He says he's had these thoughts since he was six - that's around the time of his parents divorce, because his father was verbally abusive to his mother - but this was the first safe place - DarkFetish Net - he ever felt safe enough to talk about them. And that this was his relief from a highly stressful job - and his mother concurs with that ?!! saying that some would go to a gym but her son did this instead ?!!! My God, my God! Its a miracle he actually didn't do any of this, but he sure was highly capable, he sure had more power and access than the average fetish writer, and that trip to Maryland with his wife and daughter wrapped up as an innocent "seeing my old friends from college" trip, surely was recon on one specific potential victim!!!
The jury finds him guilty, and you think that's a blanket statement, and that is THAT. If it were, I possibly may not even be writing this blog piece ... because a judge overturned it, and he was acquitted ?!!! Which immediately sent me googling and trying to track him down TODAY .. apparently, he has 'a job in another field', a GIRLFRIEND?!, and is trying to reestablish contact with his child, who is now four years old ... and I for one am scared several ways from Sunday on this subject - are you???
Let me start by telling you that I thought I knew what the particulars were, but it wasn't until I started watching this movie - and also doing searches on another webpage - that I realized I didn't - and for me personally, that was a caution: I'm one ready to give my opinion, to tell you what I think, what I believe -- but I didn't have all the facts in this case. Just. the. facts. m'am. Yeahhh -- being a writer, there are several fictional detectives - from Andy Sipowicz to the devout Catholic Irishman in 'Naked City' - that I would like to write this out as fiction and 'with him as a boss' ... to work out all the horror and grossness and looming fear I have now that I have the whole story in front of me ....
There was a wife with a newborn who was looking at a husband never joining her in there martial bed, but instead staying up all night long on the computer - so she did what any intelligent woman would do: she installed spyware. What she found, she brought immediately to the FBI AND moved herself and her baby out of harm's way - kudos to Kathleen!!! Because what she read was about her husband and these online friends with lists of women, including pictures, including herself, with recon he had been able to do because he was a cop and could access the police database and follow women around the city, and exactly how they planned to kidnap, rape, and then cook and eat, these victims.
The jury heard all of this difficult testimony ... and - while they were all agreed that he had misuse of a police database, so "guilty" - the conspiracy to kidnap was one they had to work-out ... and this movie takes you through that process, including an interview with "Juror X", who remained in darkness, and understandably so! ... Along with this, there were interviews with all types of top psychologists and writers in the field, and you started to put pieces together on your own: He says he's had these thoughts since he was six - that's around the time of his parents divorce, because his father was verbally abusive to his mother - but this was the first safe place - DarkFetish Net - he ever felt safe enough to talk about them. And that this was his relief from a highly stressful job - and his mother concurs with that ?!! saying that some would go to a gym but her son did this instead ?!!! My God, my God! Its a miracle he actually didn't do any of this, but he sure was highly capable, he sure had more power and access than the average fetish writer, and that trip to Maryland with his wife and daughter wrapped up as an innocent "seeing my old friends from college" trip, surely was recon on one specific potential victim!!!
The jury finds him guilty, and you think that's a blanket statement, and that is THAT. If it were, I possibly may not even be writing this blog piece ... because a judge overturned it, and he was acquitted ?!!! Which immediately sent me googling and trying to track him down TODAY .. apparently, he has 'a job in another field', a GIRLFRIEND?!, and is trying to reestablish contact with his child, who is now four years old ... and I for one am scared several ways from Sunday on this subject - are you???
Friday, July 1, 2016
I Am Woman 2016 - Nicole Crank
I Am Woman 2016 - Nicole Crank: Watch Nicole Crank deliver an inspirational message from the 2016 I Am Woman Conference in St. Louis, Missouri.
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