Musings and Mumbles

Growing up in the 80s, I had an eclectic taste for songs. Musicals, folk, rock, new wave, punk, goth, pop... I didn't have a preference. It was the song that spoke to me, more than the artist. If the chords struck a nerve, if the lyrics talked to my soul... That's what got me. One song in particular has been dancing in my periphery of late: Billy Joel's "Getting Closer". The album as a whole was quite good, but I currently just keep hearing it in my head. It speaks to me about where I am right now, where I want to be... Working on things both internally and externally. The lyrics underscore my daily rhythm right now, and my heart keeps time with it.  https://youtu.be/PLsXrgtalbA?si=7eTRssQplg7KwW9w [VERSE 1] ] I went searching for the truth But in my innocence I found All the con men and their acrobats Who stomped me in the ground If I count up their percentages I know they're getting rich But they haven't taken everything Those paybacks are a bitch [PRE-C...

Pre-amble - this is a very, very long post. It covers roughly 19 years of my life - from my perspective - with a person I'd thought was an amazing human being, who instead turned out to be mentally, emotionally, and even verbally abusive to people he claimed to love. There's a lot here, so if you don't want to dive in, I understand.  __________________ I've spent the last year, trying to figure out how to explain what happened in a way that wasn't going to be a "he said, she said" type of situation. I've stopped myself from publishing things so many times I've lost count. I've kept quiet about situations for *years*, because I didn't want to rock the boat, or seem ungrateful, or be taken as just being spiteful for the sake of spite - or being taken to task by him, because HOW DARE I MAKE HIM LOOK BAD. I've kept mum about a lot of things over the years because I was afraid of losing friends who might feel like they were being forced to t...

 Once upon a time, I knew a murderer, her husband, and their best friend. But this starts a few years before I met the murderer...  In 2007, I got pregnant with my son. I was planning my wedding to my husband (now divorced), and we'd decided that, since we were getting married in a few months, we could stop birth control. Fred and I had a polyamorous relationship. The rules were simple: -Be honest with one another -Ask permission  -Respect the option to say No -Respect the No-fly list -Don't cheat or lie The weekend I found out I was pregnant, Fred had gone to a reenactment camp out for the weekend. Since I had to work that weekend, and we didn't have a car, I opted to stay home. I was so tired, and feeling generally off. So I bought a pregnancy test, because I just needed to know it was all in my head. I took the test early Saturday morning, and sent the result as a picture to him to wake up to. We'd agreed before he left that it was fine, because he said he couldn...

 It's such a triggering word for many white people now. How dare they be called that, when they've had to scrape and claw their way to where they are now, etc, etc... Pulled themselves up by their own proverbial bootstraps (more on that trope in another post), etc, etc.  I had to deal with some fraud activity on my mobile account on Saturday. After calling the customer service dept, they advised I should go down to the store and see someone in person. This was not unexpected, but I had been wistfully hoping otherwise.  Nevertheless, while I'd had things to do that day, they weren't absolutes, so I toddled my way over to the store (thankfully less than a mile away), and checked in. After being told it would be roughly 45 minutes just to start things, I said I'd be back. Since it was lunchtime-ish, I went next door to a small Bahn Mi store, and got a sandwich, crisps, and a drink, then sat outside in the sun and had lunch. When I came back, about 35 minutes later, I h...