Don’t mess with family…

…But I really did see the Boogeyman.

I often have really horrific dreams. I always have, for as long as I can remember. Sometimes they are lucid, and other times I have no control what-so-ever, and don’t realize I’m just dreaming. I used to keep a very updated dream journal… but somehow that sort of fell by the wayside. Now when I hit the pillow, I am OUT.

I used to be very adventurous with my consciousness, and experimenting with it’s capabilities. When I was 18 – 19 years old, I dabbled in astral projection, and had my first astral experiences… very neat. I met one of my guides, the first one I ever met actually. In the form of a man. Now I mostly connect with animal spirit guides.

I love reading Erin’s blog, because it is incredibly inspiring, and because she is an astral badass. I don’t have tons of astral experience, it’s only happened to me twice when I meant for it to happen. More often than not, I would fall asleep trying I didn’t really know how to get into a deep meditative state yet, so I would just fall asleep. The few times I was successful though… wow. What an adventure. I remember first looking at my body still asleep on the bed, and thinking, “Yes!” I went from the basement up through the floor, and walked right through a door, after some coaxing from my guide. It was pretty cool. I’ll elaborate on that experience sometime. On another trip, I found myself intertwined from the waist down with the astral body of a boy that I knew… and lived with… and had a huge crush on. I’m not going to elaborate, but it was an amazing, and intense feeling. I woke up needing a smoke I often wondered if he “had the same dream” that afternoon… it happened spontaneously during a nap.

Now that I’m a little older, I meditate a bit better, and I have had my Reiki attunements I am hoping to devote more time in the near future to delve back into the workings of my own states of consciousness. Erin’s blog has many great blogs on the “subconscious consciousness”, and her experiences with such. I found myself reading her newest blog today, and I thought of the other night when I had such a terrible dream. Yes, the dream was really bad (I was being bludgeoned with what appeared to be a large wooden lollypop… from CandyLand perhaps?… I don’t know, but the dude who was doing the bashing, first had to chase me. (I’m fast btw…) But I’m slooooow as molasses in dreamland. He looked like something out of Mad Maxx or something. Some kind of post-apocalyptic warrior thug. Long dreaded up hair, war paint on his face, or maybe some sort of tribal markings. I don’t know. While he was hitting me, I kept saying “Awwww, come on man!” Anyhow… I woke up finally after struggling to do so.

Yeah, there was more to the dream, and the dream itself was less than pleasant, but it was the feeling that remained with me while I was awake at 3:30am that really sucked. Bobby, Christian, and I were staying at my mom’s place that night, and when I woke from my dream, I had the urgent instinct to leave… immediately. The dream had triggered a string of thoughts, and memories from when my brother was hanging with the wrong crowd, and doing Meth. He lived at my mom’s house at the time, and all those shady characters not only know where my mom lives, but they have been here many times. I often feared that they would come here and harm my mom, and stepdad trying to get to my brother… apparently the fear lingers. Now, I know that I am, myself pretty crafty, but what worries me is that I have a young child… I woke up Bobby, and told him that I wanted to leave, but it was 3:30-ish in the AM, and he wasn’t quite understanding what the hell was wrong with me. Poor guy. I got up, and stalked around the house in the dark (there are A LOT of windows in my mom’s house, which scares the crap out of me. I stood, and watched out the front window… and a car pulled up… As I watched, I came to relaize that it was just the paper delivery man. As I was standing there, my stepdad got up (it’s 4 something in the morning now) He brought their BIG dog Bear downstairs with him, and I felt much better. He had just returned home from a trip to Pheonix, and he was still on Pheonix time, so they were staying up. I explained why I was up, and then I felt better… especially with Bear downstairs, so I was able to get back to sleep.

Anyhow, I do not like feeling like that. That isn’t the first time either. Many times, when I wake from a dream in the middle of the night, I wonder if there’s not some purpose for my being awake, at whatever random hour. I always think I’m supposed to be awake for some reason. That was a really bad case, this last time. I have no idea why this happens to me. However, reading Erin’s blog this morning, was a breath of fresh air… I will certainly remember some of these tips… Enjoy!

How To Raise Your Vibration When You Feel Fear
December 27th, 2007

People often tell me stories of being afraid of going to sleep at night because they either fear, or know, they are going to have a negative experience. Perhaps it’s an encounter with a negative entity, sleep paralysis, the monster under the bed, or just plain fear of the dark. Sometimes it’s an irrational fear, and sometimes the fear is justified. Sometimes there really is something lurking just out of your awareness ready to pounce when you go to sleep, and sometimes you’re just afraid because you watched a scary movie.

Sometimes these fears carry on into the daytime, but most of the time people are more afraid at night when they feel less capable of handling the unknown. Lately, I’ve had a lot of emails from people who have become debilitated by the fear that something paranormal or supernatural is going to happen to them. In some cases they’ve been told by psychics that they are cursed (lordy), or they’ve actually had an encounter or two with something negative that they can’t explain.

When you go to sleep in a state of fear you are asking to be visited by something negative. It’s like your mind just sends out a beacon of light saying, “I’m over here. Come and get me!” It’s important to change your state before you go to bed so you can feel more empowered and so you can actually be more empowered to handle whatever’s gonna getcha!

Following are some ways to raise your vibration during the day and evening so you don’t attract something negative when you go to sleep:

Humor: Spend as much time laughing as you can. Go to a comedy club, watch a funny movie or tv show, hang out with humorous people, read some jokes before you go to sleep.

Gratitude: Spend each night before you go to bed thinking of what you are grateful for and in what ways you feel blessed. This raises your vibration very high.

Compassion: Help someone less fortunate than you or someone that just needs help with something in their life. Offer to lend a hand to a friend.

Love: Express love and allow yourself to receive love. If you’re not in a relationship think about getting an animal companion, or just express love to your family and friends.

Sing and dance: Even if you do it alone in your living room. Put on some inspirational music and sing and dance. Be free, go wild, get into it. Close the curtains.

Luxury: Do something for yourself that you consider a luxury, and allow yourself to feel feel like you deserve it. No shame or guilt for doing this thing. It could be something like a massage or pedicure, or ice cream sundae, or just sitting on a swing in a park. This helps you strengthen your third chakra (your power chakra), and makes you less of a target.

Joy: What makes you feel joyous? Do something totally fun either during the day or before you go to sleep, like working on a hobby or chatting with a friend.

Water: Water is really good for removing negative energy. Take a warm/hot bath, or take a shower before bed.

Also, you should try to stay away from people who are in a low vibrational state like guilt, shame, depression, anger, or fear. Their energy can rub off on you.

Before you go to sleep ask the angels to keep watch over you. Feel their love and light around you. If you find yourself in any sort of trouble you can call on the angels for help. If that doesn’t work, tell the demon one of the jokes from your joke book.

Who is God?… Oh yeah, and where do we go when we die?

A common human question… I love Erin Pavlina’s blog immensely. Here’s what she says about the differing opinions among psychic’s, and mediums… seems to relate very well to the rest of humanity, with all of our different opinions, and experiences, on religion, spirituality, etc…

Why Don’t Psychic’s Agree on what Happens in the Beyond?

By: Erin Pavlina

Some psychics believe there is a heaven and hell, and that people are good or evil. Some psychics talk to God and Jesus while others talk to Buddha or Krishna. Some psychics talk to angels while others talk to Elvis. Some psychics believe in curses while other psychics believe there is no such thing. Some psychics think the world is going to end in a certain year, while others think that’s hogwash. Some psychics channel other entities from the 7th plane of god-knows-where, while others channel just their own intuition. Some psychics are in touch with the Pleiadians, and some think the Reptiles are secretly taking over the world. Some psychics rely on crystals to keep them safe, while others use white light. Some use salt and others use sage. If psychics really can communicate with the great beyond, why are there such disparities between what they say exists? Isn’t there just one truth?To answer that I have to tell you a story…

Once upon a time an alien ship flew into Earth’s orbit. Not knowing anything about this planet, they decided to send 3 of their people to Earth to check it out. One was dropped off in the Mojave Desert, one in New York City, and one in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. They were given several days to learn about the planet and then brought back to their ship.

When asked what Earth was like, the first alien said, “Very hot and dry. I did not see any water anywhere. No vegetation and just some nomads wandering around on camels. It’s an inhospitable land to be sure, with hardly any population.”

The second alien, who had visited New York, jumped in and said, “No population? Heavens, all I saw was people! Everywhere. The city was so crowded I could barely move. Tall buildings, underground transportation systems, loud noises. And humans definitely run Earth, are totally in charge, and clearly the dominant species.”

The third alien, who spent his time in the Pacific Ocean, said, “Humans? Didn’t see any at all actually. Whales, dolphins, coral, beautiful blue water; everywhere the eye could see. Clearly the aquatic creatures completely rule the planet. A human couldn’t even survive long in the water. It was peaceful. Dark in some places, and beautifully light in others.”

The aliens began arguing about what Earth was really like. Each insisted his point of view was accurate and that he knew how things on Earth really were. Such disparity of experience, such different perspectives. But who was right?

The alien in charge pointed out that they had only visited 3 places on Earth and probably didn’t have the whole story. Obviously more study was needed. In his report he was unable to indicate with authority how Earth really was, however they definitely had more information about the planet than they did before. Each alien had brought back a greater understanding about some part of Earth, but each had to admit that only the tip of the iceberg had been explored. Still, they were able to document that Earth existed, that it was vast, and that it contained wondrous creatures and interesting lands. They decided to send more people to investigate it so they could bring back more information and try to form a complete picture of this planet. Until then, they kept an open mind about what they would find.

——————————————-

And so it is with psychics. We all have our perspectives because we are all touching upon different aspects of the beyond. Some psychics explore certain territory, like spirit guides, angels, and higher selves, while others explore God, ascended masters, and yes, even the Pleiadians. I wouldn’t be so quick to say who is right and who is wrong. We haven’t mapped enough of the territory to get the whole picture.

So who do you listen to? How do you know who is right? My advice is to let your experience guide you and to also be open to the experiences of others. While you’re firmly planted in “New York City” keep an open mind to what the guy from the “Mojave Desert” is telling you. Maybe you won’t go there. Maybe you’re not interested in exploring the desert because you love the city so much. That’s fine. But always remember you probably don’t have the whole story so you can’t say with certainty how it really is.

Use other people’s experiences as information to explore, not refute out of hand because you haven’t experienced it personally. And if you’re the traveling sort, go explore all of it. You might find a place you like better; a place you find more hospitable. Doesn’t mean your previous place was wrong either.

Even psychics need to keep exploring and not get stuck thinking their location is superior or more accurate than another’s. It’s a big universe out there and we’re only dipping our toes into the water. Sure, we can pass on the information we’re getting, but to assume we are dipping our toes into the ocean when we may only be dipping them into a pond would be short-sighted.

This is true of earthly information as well. How many wars are fought because one group insists their perspective is true while someone else’s is false?

Keep exploring.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” – William Shakespeare (from Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5)

Adue, Adue… Parting is NOT such sweet sorrow…

Dear Alcohol,

I’d be lying if I told you, that it was me, and not you. We’ve been very close for a long time, but truth be told… I never really liked you.

When you were first introduced to me in the form of Southern Comfort, I had to hide you in a Vernors bottle just to take you to the park with me. You know a relationship isn’t healthy when you have to hide. That day, you basked in all your glory, while out of pure naivety I seriously over-indulged in your sweet, tangy flavor. What you did to me was wrong, even if it does make for a great story.

Do you remember all of the bruises I had from falling off of my bike that day on my way home? I guess I can say that you have never really been there to pick me up. When I did finally make it home, you confused me to the point that I couldn’t even see what was on the dinner table. I was so embarrassed when I asked my mom, “Is that pumpkin pie?” and she, of course, said no. It was August. The day before my first day of High School. That evening I made my first official drunk dial… before passing out, and dropping the phone, which was still dangling from the receiver when I finally woke up.I was only 14 years old then, and that was just the beginning.

Let’s not forget the time that you came to me fleetingly in the form of Hot Damn. I say fleetingly because your exit was swift, as I began to vomit… You have no idea how painful that was for me. Soon came the time when you would call yourself Jim Beam… You were sitting with my parents at the lake, while they were playing cards. I should’ve seen the signs. You had already left my cousin Bill puking in the lake, as you fixed your gaze upon my youthful face. You were only with me for a moment, one single deep kiss… It made my mouth water… And not in that good way.What you didn’t realize then, was that I had already been fooling around with your cousins… Bartles, and Jaymes… I began to pace as my mouth continued to water, and my stomach turned… That was the last I saw of any of you.

If you recall the night I snuck out to party with Miller Light Ice… When I came home at 4am to sneak back in, my dad was awake. I had to sit outside in the cold for 45 minutes while I prayed that he would go back to bed, so I could sneak inside to the warmth of my bathroom, and worship the porcelain God.

It has been a long, drawn-out affair for us, with many lessons learned. I had no idea the disaster you could cause. You’re a terrible pain in the ass, but I don’t mind saying that I am all the wiser to have known you.

I’m sure you will enjoy reminiscing over the night I met up with you at Bamboozles. It was Super Bowl Sunday, and I was out with the girls from work. I was having “boy problems”, and you were there, across the bar as I ate my chicken caesar salad. Pretty soon you were sitting right in front of me, in the form of a Long Island Iced Tea. You come in many flavors, but this was by far my favorite. Soon my friends were introducing me to many of your relatives… There was your cousin from Germany, Jagermeister… What the hell kind of name is that anyway? As well as your Mexican friend of the family, Tequila Sunrise. Then back to Jager… You traveled with me in the limousine (I had to sneak you out under my coat) while we headed to The Double Olive. There I met your sophisticated brothers… The Martini. First I met Bloody, then Blue, and before long I also met Chocolate… Must be from a different mother, yes?

This is where it starts to get a little fuzzy… We switched to shots, and I experienced that”Surfer on Acid” fellow, Oatmeal Cookie, Mind Eraser (total womanizer)… Who names these guys? At the same time I was also smooching on what the other girls were having… Multi-tasking at it’s finest. It was only after several Jager Bombs that I realized that I was starting to feel intoxicated… But Alas, it was too late. It was finally Lemon Drop who did me in… You KNOW i get motion sick in the car! When we got back into the limo driving down Michigan Ave. I was still trying to have a good time. I was laughing hysterically as Anna was mooning traffic out the back window of the limo. First you made me feel all warm, and fuzzy, then you really began twisting my insides. You didn’t even warm me that you would have me barf all over myself, and incidentally, all over Liz the waitress, sitting next to me. As I began to lose all sense of reality, I could feel the panic around me as my girlfriends hurdled me toward the rear window, so I could puke out of it… while in motion, as I continued to empty the contents of my stomach. From then on you rendered me completely useless.

Although I felt fine the next day, that was only because my friends, and roommates kept waking me to drink water, and eat Ibuprofin. See, you were never really there for me. You always had a knack for making things worse.

It was shortly after that incident that I started seeing Bobby. You and I were still hanging out occasionally, but I really fell hard for him. I had no idea that you had already been with him, inseparably for many years. The more I got to know Bobby, the less I saw him without you, but you were so quiet at first that I hardly noticed at all. It wasn’t until Bobby, and I actually had an argument that you stepped in with something to say. Which of course, blew things way out of proportion, and then I had no idea even, what we were first arguing about anyway. This would be the story of my life for the next many years. You, the aggressor, making something huge, out of nothing. Making me look bad so that Bobby would have an excuse to run to you.

At first I didn’t recognize the pattern. I had made my boundaries clear with you from the start. I had never seen first-hand the way you play with, and manipulate people… your prey. You would have Bobby feeling like he was in such good company, that he soon forgot all about me, and was absolutely exclusive with you. I hung in there because I loved him, and hoped that he would come to his senses, and realize how unhealthy your relationship was. A lot of time passed, and many times, and in many ways, I tried to give up. Building little walls around my heart where I could. So many nights I sat alone, crying, and worrying, while he was out having a good old time with you. Many parties that I wasn’t invited to. If, on the rare occasion I was invited, you would entice him to pick a fight with me, so that he could escape into the night with you, betraying my trust completely. You gave him the courage to degrade me publicly if I objected to any of the things that you, and he wanted to do.

When we first found out that I was pregnant, he realized for the first time that he wanted to think for himself. He woke me up one night from my hormonal stupor to have me witness a tearful man, dumping out a bottle of Captain Morgan, and my bottle of Belevedere vodka, from when I used to enjoy you as a Bloody Mary. He wanted to change, but your grip was a strong one. He managed to keep away from you for the duration of my pregnancy, but it wasn’t long after the birth of our son that I saw him turn to you once again in the face of the stresses of parenthood, and unhappiness at work. Your bond, once again increasing in strength until once again, I was, as was our son, less important that you were.

He would sit up with you at night watching the UFC, until it was time to go to bed. he would get up super early in the morning for work, feeling weak, and groggy, and half alive all day. He would come home from work needing a nap, and almost immediately retire into the bedroom not to emerge until well into the evening… and that was only when I decided to wake him. Several times I just left him to sleep.He was such a bear to wake up while under your influence. (We can’t forget the time he shattered the beautiful beveled glass door in Michigan, after slamming it because he was convinced that the other artist in my arts show was a coke-head… does that even make sense?) He would have been just as happy to completely sleep through his life, and that of our growing infant son. On the occasion he did rise, he would get up, grab a can of you in the form of cheap beer, from the fridge, and take you outside for a smoke before even saying a word to me, or even our son. It was after a year, and several months of this routine that I decided he loved you more, and I finally asked him to leave.

I wanted a better life for our son, and for myself, so I began plans to open up my own business, with the hope of being able to provide a secure life for us both. I was starting over. A single mom, and new business owner. I was trying to leave that dark corner of my life behind. A few months later, Bobby came to me, and he told me that he was trying to get some help with letting you go. He wanted his family back, and after a time, we began to try again. I committed myself to letting him back into my heart, even though you had wreaked havoc on our relationship. We would have to start over without you, and I was willing to try. It worked for a while, but he faltered eventually, and admittedly began to let you back into his life every so often, until it became a regular thing again. Old patterns re-emerging, and still I had no idea he was seeing you so much behind my back. I gave him the benefit of the doubt as he had asked me to, even though I could smell you on his breath, and oozing from his pores… but he continued to hide you, and I continued to hope that he wasn’t.

Finally, when the time came to move out of our shared apartment, and into a new one, which we had already signed for, he decided he did not want to give up his other place where he had stayed during our seperation. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to hide you from me forever. I was completely broke from my business investment, and I would need his help in sustaining our home environment. He had so much resentment from not being included in my business decisions, among other things during the time of our separation, that he felt like he needed not help support me, and I had supported us for so long before. Once again, he abandoned me to be with you.

We had a nasty fight, which you helped instigate, and you allowed him to say some terrible things. You even gave him the guts to threaten me physically. While you two were outside smoking, I woke our sleeping son, and dressed him, packed his bag, and we left to go stay with my mom. That weekend, while we had to move all of our belongings into a storage unit, and some into my mom’s house, you comforted him (If you could call it that), and influenced him to stay away, and not help us at all. Not even just to watch our son. You allowed him tot hink that he should sleep in an apartment with no heat or electricity, just to be with you.

After the dust had finally settled from our move into my mom’s house, Bobby and I were actually able to talk without swearing at each other. I never tried to keep our son away from him because what kind of mother would that make me? My only request was that he not drive anywhere with him. I figured that one day, our young son would become a man, and he could choose what to make of the outcome of these experiences for himself.

A few weeks passes, and Bobby made the call for help. Real help. Behind your back for once. He enlisted the help of real counselors, and a real treatment center. With the support of the company he works for, he made the choice to check into a place where he was welcome… and you are not.

The process was quick, and they wanted him to come right away. He asked me to take him, but not without a final goodbye to you. After a nasty verbal exchange, he had me stop at a store so he could embrace you one last time. He was shaking, and crying. A shell of a man powerless in the face of your persuasive nature. He guzzled you down like he was dying of thirst, and then poured the rest out, almost mournfully. He kissed me goodbye, as well as his son, for the next 30 days, and walked away. Truth be told, I was afraid he would never make it to the door. I think he had to take you with him, to even find the courage to walk in that direction. He did make it to that door. I didn’t see him, and I didn’t even look back, because I knew it was a choice he had to make without me.

He has been free from your grip now for 31 days. It has been a nasty divorce, but I doubt he misses you. I for one, do not. You may see me from time to time, sitting across the restaurant from you. You may even occasionally be invited to sit at my table, though I doubt it will be often. The one thing you should know is that over me, you have no influence. You are powerless. I bid you adue… Parting is not such sweet sorrow after all.

-Aimee

Mission Statement

Our mission at The Bombshell Ballroom far reaches beyond the walls of our physical studio. It goes without mention that we want you to step into our space, and instantly feel welcome, and comfortable. As you step out of your daily stresses, and into your platform heels, we absolutely welcome you to feel completely sexy basking in the glow of the Ballroom’s ambient lighting. Our hearts dance the first time you choose one of our glistening poles to become your partner in dance for 8 weeks (or more!) We cherish the accomplishment that radiates from within as you master your first (and countless other) spins, and steps. These are just a few of the many satisfactions that come from teaching each of our students at the studio, on a local level.

Our true mission begins here, and extends outward from our Pacific Northwest location. On the grand scale of things we are making history. Being on the cutting edge of a great trend in the fitness, and dance industry, we are using this momentum to bringing global awareness to this movement toward feminine self-empowerment.

In our society feminine sensuality is repressed to say the least. Pole dancing is an art form created directly from that divine sensuality. Unlike ballet, or various other forms of classical dance, pole dancing was not developed by the mind, or the idea’s of a person with any kind of system or technique. This dance was created entirely by channeling that innate sensuality. Pole dancing as far as we know, was first a circus sideshow. The tent poles being the prop, ladies would dance around them in between acts. No one taught them… they just did what came naturally. Eventually, brass poles became a common fixture in gentlemen’s clubs. There again, no one teaches these girls how to dance. They have just learned to harness that sensuality , and allow it to flow freely in this non linear, exotic, and serpentine art of movement. The arts of exotic dance completely compliment the female physique by embracing, and accentuating the naturally curvy body lines of the female form.

Pole dancing is much more than just the athletic, and even gymnastic movements that utilize the pole. It is the natural movements between the spins, and inverts, the transitions, and embellishments between one move, and the next. We are here to teach you the movements, and inspire you to find the music within yourself, and allow it to move through you. We see pole dancing not as a trend, but as a movement. We are dedicated to shattering the old taboos created by those who do not dare to witness first-hand, the beauty of pure self expression. It a is time to tune in to the personal way in which music speaks to you, and bring it to life with your body language. This is not simply the latest trendy fitness craze, this is a feminine awareness movement.

It has nothing to do with men, or the idea that getting all dolled up to dance on stage with a pole, in your underwear, while people (not just men) throw money at you, is somehow degrading to women. Doesn’t sound so bad does it? People do much worse for money… like, spend most of their lives at a job they hate, or with a partner they don’t truly love. Those who do view exotic dance, or pole dance as degrading, or negative are unfortunately, usually (although not always) other women. They are those who have never experienced being completely connected with their sensuality. Deep down inside each of them though, lies a goddess waiting to emerge, whether they realize it or not.

We speak to you as a voice of the pole dancing, and exotic arts movement. We are part of a community on a global scale. Our mission is that of self awareness, and empowerment. Meet any one of us, and you will know that our intentions are rooted in love of self, and of our sisters (and brothers too). One day we as humans will master the masculine/feminine balance. Pole dancing can be a beautiful example of the fusion of both, exhibiting both masculine strength, and the fluid female form.

Blood is Thicker than Liquor

I have been in a relationship for the last seven years with a man who is both beautiful inside, and out. Our relationship has been an interesting flux between intense pleasure, and amplified misery, woven together by an incredibly strong spiritual connection. Although I could always see the vast potential inside the eyes of this person, he has been for as long as I have known him… a tormented soul. He has also been, for the previous duration of our relationship, and alcoholic.

I have never personally known anyone else who was really an alcoholic, or at least not anyone I was this incredibly close with, so it took me a while to figure out what was going on… and even when I did figure it out, I didn’t know what to do with him. His whole family was (is) in denial, and so was he. It took seven years for him to admit to himself that he had the disease. Mind you he was drinking hard LONG before he met me.

Regardless of the path that either of us choose, we are bound. Two years ago, I gave birth to our beautiful son. (Anything but naturally, but that’s another story…) Absolutely beautiful, and precious, and perfect in every way… except for that selective 2 yr. old hearing thing… sheesh. If my hair isn’t turning gray under that brunette dye, I will be amazed.

Looking into my sons HUGE blue eyes does two things for me… 1.) It melts my cold little, winter born, Capricorn heart… and 2.) It makes me REALLY pissed off about human consciousness… Or really, the lack there of. I take certain things very personally such as… drunk drivers, child abusers…etc…

Truth be told, a few weeks ago, I was on my way out of town with my son, to (*cough*escape the family*cough*) visit some friends. When on my way I found myself stuck behind a driver that was driving pretty erratically. I won’t make the judgement of saying that this person was drunk… But, they sure were having a problem staying between the lines. I followed behind this person for about 15 minutes observing at a good distance, before I decided to called 911. I described the vehicle to the state patrol dispatch, and then once I got off the phone, I passed them, and went on my way. About 5 miles or so down the road I passed a state police car on the right side with his lights on who was just sitting with no one pulled over, and then another mile or so, an unmarked car on the left. I can only hope that either the person wasn’t actually driving drunk, or that they saw them. I had never done that before, but what if the person driving had been drunk, and hit someone. At one point this person was driving right across the center lines on a two lane stretch of highway, through a construction zone with cement barriers and no shoulder. That was what did it for me. Even before the construction zone, the driver who was in the left lane at the time driving WAY under the speed limit, kept drifting over into the right lane as people would pass, causing them to break, and drive on the shoulder to pass them. Scary stuff…

So now after 7 years of living with someone with alcoholism, it is very personal. It affects me, and maybe even more so, our son. Children are always the unintentional victims of such disaster. Luckily he has only seen visually little bits and pieces of the ugliness, and drama, and I have physically removed him from the situation on many occasions. However he has felt with his keen perceptions, the repercussions of the tension, and the unhappiness.

Thankfully, this person who I am bonded to by the common blood of our son, (…and of course, a profoundly deep love, and blossoming friendship) has taken it upon himself to begin his journey down the road of recovery… and he’s looking good so far. He’s been in a treatment center for the last 29 days, starting with detox, and then entering into an in-patient facility. He’s very happy to discover the parts of himself that he used to mask, or hide in shame. He’s had some heavy childhood issues to deal with (some of which I knew nothing about until recently) as well as having very little positive influence from his family. His mother has been denying (quite the enabler) the addiction since I first noticed how bad it was, and tried to get him some help from his family. She of course blames me… (That is also another LOOOOONG story).

No matter what the outcome may be for our romantic relationship, I know we will be able to set aside the bullshit, and be great friends, and make it work somehow for our child. In so many ways, blood is indeed thicker than liquor.

“ello my name is StarrGrrrl… and I like to do drawrrrrings….

My first blog. I’ll keep it short, and sweet.

There are may facets to my being. I have many interests in a wide array of different things. Some of those include:

Art

Dance

Yoga

Music

Books

Education, and Learning ANYTHING

Animal Friends

Good Vegetarian/Vegan Cuisine

Spirituality

Metaphysics

Energy Theory

Meditation

Just to name a few …

This journal is for me to share my life experiences with whomever comes across my wave in the ocean of the internet. After all… we are just surfing… are we not?