-Mobile continuation from Xanga blog PinkyGuerrero at PinkyGuerrero, Pinky, Janika, this blog is Basically Clueless, ongoing continuation at blog PinkFeldspar, in that order.
-Most of the graphics and vids click to sources.
-Personal blog for Janika Banks.
 photo README2.gif


Friday, February 28, 2020

shall we get to work

I was driving home with a playlist going that I've honestly not listened through since I made it because it got so long. So I was only half listening, not watching at all, and stuff starting clicking.

I've spent the last several years dealing with repressed memories and eventually realizing my oddball disorientation spells might be dissociative. The last 5 months in particular have been like finally nearing the completion of a huge complicated jigsaw puzzle.

I've been leaving myself messages for years, sometimes best laid out through free association games I started playing many years ago. I do what I think are random trails through youtube or search engines and come back weeks, months, or even years later and see patterns. Some of the patterns are more subtle and I have no clue I created them until I review later. Oddly, reviews are usually done on spur of the moment, like little timers go off in my head and I'm suddenly in the mood to follow one of my trails.

Keeping in mind that I once consciously possessed an eidetic memory (until illness initiated a sort of brain collapse in 2004) and have out of the blue known details without explanation (like my brain hides things from me), I've over time accepted that I simply no longer have conscious access at will and that I have figured out ways to communicate to myself across unknown barriers.

My biggest conundrums have been that 1981-1990 are a very mixed up broken blur, and that I seem to take myself hostage back and forth since I was a kid. 'We' sometimes fight each other for control, and I'm lately working through the idea that maybe we can cooperate more if we call a truce.

To make it easier to process both subjectively and objectively, I have been using blog names as personality compartments. I had no idea I was even doing this, at first it was just me using a sorting system to filter down some chaos in my head. I'm autist and misunderstandings galore are my lifestyle, so I guess I built a sorting system so I wouldn't feel like I was drowning in confusion.

One of the first strong blog personalities to step out was bluejacky, or just Jacky, what I've also dubbed the aspienado spawn event. The second that stepped up was pinkfeldspar, or Pinky. There must be some kind of middle ground because my pinterest address is pinkybluejacky.

Years later, I'm discovering these weren't accidents. These have been dominant personalities that I've been dealing with constantly all my life, and they repel each other like the wrong ends of magnets. During the last 5 months, the war for control (Pinky had been in control for years) crescendoed throughout my dad dying, and culminated in Jacky sliding back in after Pinky realized a truce needed to happen.

That was actually a huge relief. Jacky doesn't feel emotions, and going 'flat' again after so many years allowed a smooth transition into self care after years of physical and emotional sacrifice Pinky used to commandeer a tough situation.

To be frank, Jacky isn't the best person handling kids, and Pinky knew it. Once the situation changed, Pinky went on braincation.

We are both cognizant, both control a couple other wild cards that are very bad to turn loose, one being suicidal (prime?), the other an addict without a moral compass (Janika). We're not sure who the really mean one is, but Pinky says Claudia, and we drop that hot potato really fast without dwelling. So "I" am currently Jacky (don't really call me Jacky, that's dumb), and Pinky hears this. To be clear, I don't talk to Pinky, she's bossy and takes over. It's kinda hard explaining. This is the furthest I've gotten being able to word it out.

Back to the playlist today. Let's see what I might be wanting to say to myself. It's been crossing our mind that there might be a completely separate split problem, hence the secrets. I have no idea how to even approach this. Pinky suggested simply asking questions and seeing if we get answers. This goes back to the night I found out my friend was murdered, and then burning the box of letters the next day. These videos are so much like the inside of my head arguing over that hijack of control.

Ok, that first one was like how the me that hijacked that night hated the me it took over. That hate was so deep and harsh that I was unable to kick back out past it and feel anything again until I had a little girl and realized I would literally lose her to the state unless I took control back and did something about it.

After that, we duked it out, stealing control back and forth for several years until my life was so messed up that nothing got better until I met Scott.

Clearly, to me, I hit dead ends trying to figure out what exactly the fuck happened inside myself to spiral out of control so badly, starting with that night.

Ok, next vid.

That very first sentence is me in my childhood. Seriously. I had decided never to love anyone, because everything about love as a concept was so painful, I just had to shut it off. Except my best friend. I never consciously thought that, but evidently I worshipped the ground she walked on or something.

Jacky and Pinky were borne of rubble, a survival mechanism, perhaps. Jacky and Pinky both stepped forward in 2007 after my heart broke again. I think they had been there all along and I finally accepted them as personalities. The only problem was I couldn't put them on the same blog... They were like opposites, one emotionally bereft and one a weepy, angry, severely depressed mess.

So now, truce. Jacky and Pinky are learning to 'talk'. Like I said, Pinky is very bossy. She sucks as a friend, as she puts it. And Failure Is Not An Option. "We would be strong together. No one can stop us."

Truce. No more sabotaging each other.

Next vid.

Load and clear. "You cannot have one without the other." "There was no me without him." Accepting each other. Accepting all my broken pieces. Pinky was lost without Jacky.

Pinky put the playlist together on the run during high stress, terrified another hijacking would happen with disastrous consequences. Jacky agreed this time not to take over and block Pinky out. Once the agreement happened, the switch was almost instantaneous. Pinky can share feeling the relief and is mostly 'asleep' now. Jacky is back on the original health plan goals from years ago and being amazing.

No more sabotaging each other.

Next vid. This is a clip of the show, not a fanvid. This is what it's like in my head blogging double meanings to myself without realizing it. This is how Pinky finally got through to Jacky through years of blogging.

And now we're wondering what part is still hiding the secrets. Because Jacky doesn't have an answer to why that box got burned.

There is a dangerously apathetic component inside me that we're not sure will even talk to us without doing something very, very stupid. That piece of me is utterly black being anti-love.

This is where we agree to just drop it and let it go. For now. Not gonna lie, it got real creepy when I realized during this next one that as I kept drifting in deeper, disengaged while I was driving, that an eavesdropper was thinking about wrecking the car. I mean, I wasn't even feeling depressed, Jacky mode is about as flat as it gets, and I had to pull back out hard and fast shutting that one down. It's like a super surreal mode that pops up once in awhile in the car and thinks about spontaneously taking the car off the road without any thought to damage or injury, no feels at all, and I nearly feel sick at the thought I might not be able to stay in control of my arms. There's like a dead space inside of me that really creeps me out.

I have no idea what that's about, maybe connected to the wreck I had years ago, but it's the same with knives, so whatever that is, Pinky and Jacky both clamp down on it.

And then this next came on and everything was fine. Good Jacky music.


I've never written all of that in one place together before.

Every single day there are thoughts of death, sometimes bizarre suicidal kinds of thoughts, sometimes other kinds of bloody thoughts like dismembering, although I never think of hurting people I know, or about how fun that might be. I'm not into gore for gore's sake. I'm not into that kind of entertainment.

I feel like personality switching keeps the deeper darker lurker at bay.

I'm not afraid of monsters, but of what I will do to them.

Which would make me a monster.


That was hard to write and took hours. I've been thinking for a couple of weeks how to even describe it. Vids help me since I lack emotional intuition, and oftentimes it takes quite awhile (months) for concepts and ideas to percolate back out into description.

If I weren't so inwardly focused, I'm certain I'd be quite the troublemaker.

I fixed Scott's computer through all this as well, so I'm the hero tonight.

I wonder what else I legit don't know

One of those catching up lots of little chores days. The rest of Dad's life insurance came in. My bank has been uber aggressive on fraud last few months, so I managed to get myself flagged trying to cash that. Then once that was settled, got flagged again for trying to make some payments. Hopefully that is settled now, but I need to go get a few groceries now. Really hope that doesn't flag again...

We have been living check to check for so many years that my bank doesn't know what to do with me actually having a balance to manage.

Anyway, it was a nice amount, and I am very content. All that stress over my dad all those months seems to be over, and getting something back afterward puts final closure on for me. I don't care any more about how hard it all was. Big crazy mixup, this life, for all of us.


First day skipping coffee on purpose. I've been sticking to half cup all week, this morning almost seemed like a drag to open new creamer for so little, so I just skipped it. My head caught up in the grocery store and said wtf we doing this with no coffee cusscusscuss. A gentler side of my brain added politely, Yes, during a taper, no less, and went back to humming along not helping at all with the shopping list.


1:45 p.m. Took a vote. Unanimous for 1/4 cup of coffee.

2:00 p.m. Headache was gone almost instantly.


It's getting almost comical how easy my marriage is with Pinky out of the way now.


I just found out we've had an accordion in the basement for years. Like possibly way over a decade years.

An accordion??? O_o


Lots of waking up last night, BUT I can't remember the dreams I wrestled with. That's a first. I remember I had lots of them and they disturbed me. That's all.

I've been quietly asking myself more questions. Maybe I'll get some more answers soon.

Tuesday, February 25, 2020

as the Storm rolls through

I will be very surprised if internet doesn't completely go down at least for a short while during the Storm.

Prayers with all our patriots as the war rages for our freedom from slavery. Qanons who've kept up with the research will understand this vid progression. Blessings on the SRA victims who've stepped forward and even testified amid ongoing threats to life and safety.

This is not a game.

Monday, February 24, 2020

past the hardest part, perhaps

Someday our mythologies will be about the stories we grew up with that developed our truths through an entertainment industry.

Kinda makes you wonder if the old Greek stuff was originally written by guys not unlike Stan Lee...

Except nowadays the writers are heroes themselves.

I say that with deep respect. I know it wasn't easy.

Someone lately keeps wiping out my produce in my player shop every single night. I normally wake up to all the arrows or portal staffs being gone, but lately it's carrots and potatoes. o_o

Every night? 



Lotta rain out there. Sure beats ice and snow.

I moved tomorrow's appointment so I can take care of something else. The countdowns seem to have faded since dad died, so it's not bothering me at all.

Aside from my normal manic waves rolling through, which seem gentler lately, I seem to have flattened back out into mostly not feeling. I noticed it several weeks ago, like I flipped in an eye blink, like Pinky relinquished control and Jacky stepped back in. Jacky is the practical problem solver in a more ego pov. No worries about others. No holding down the fort, as it were. A few times there have been minor struggles to care, but Jacky soothes it over with Doesn't this feel better now? To just not care? And the point is conceded and rebellion lies back down to sleep.

Yes, I am still me. But who is me? Me is we. The Pinky years seem to be on hiatus. Janika is allowed in name only (alcohol craving disaster, we roll our eyes). Jacky is back on original Plan to get healthy again, and results so far are nothing less than amazing.

Pinky was so afraid to give up control. Being an interface doesn't mean being executive function.

Pinkybluejacky was always a conundrum.

Saturday, February 22, 2020


I like seeing how far I can progress effects. I save each change and move forward from there. I used to use the AOL editor years ago, made some interesting artwork out of photos. Then I played on Print Shop for a few more years. Now I just play on my phone. I do this with all kinds of pix. The goal with the save and progress is like a visual game, a logical irreversible sequence of 'events' with a final destination that still retains integrity. Progression is usually impossible at some point.

This is an RLT progression. Original photo is from IMDb at  https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2088699/mediaviewer/rm3627150080


This year has 2018 beat hands down for length of illness time for people around me. My worst ongoing symptom is laryngitis, otherwise never really felt the impacts others have been dragging through for weeks.

So I cut coffee down to less than half a cup a day several days ago, and my blood pressure has improved markedly so far. Honestly not missing it like I thought I would.

My blood sugar has likewise been pretty fantastic for having another steroid shot. Of course, I'm not being stupid. Just usually don't see it back in the 90s so quickly.

Assessment-wise, just about everything heart related is unchanged from 2011. I have a few notes leaning toward congestive heart failure developments, but they don't seem to be developing much over time. Obviously, meds that cause edema make things worse, and so I fight to get back off them. If coffee were a med I'd be fighting it, too. The side effects have been ridiculous, just because it's socially sanctioned doesn't mean I'm not an idiot hanging onto it.


See, like this.


So anyone who looked for me is getting up to the 24 hour world news information on my facebook and pinky blog. I'll put it here as well.

From https://dinarrecaps.com/our-blog/restored-republic-via-a-gcr-rumors-as-of-feb-22-2020

Pinky blog followers watched me struggle publicly with many researches over the last few years over whether the Intel drops were for real. I had to migrate to new blogs and accounts to stay ahead of the tens of thousands of mass account closures as we tried our hardest to keep saying these things out loud.

I hope you will all understand many good things are coming. Too bad the medias are still trying not to let this wonderful news become public for the masses. Many will be confused. Please be patient while the light of truth is worked through the dark to you all.

I love you.

Thursday, February 20, 2020

playing in my sleep

I had the coolest dream last night. It was like further on into the future and everything we know now was over. Interactive holographic gaming was built right into the buildings, and groups would get together to live in their favorite gaming atmospheres. I was running around in and out of groups having a great time and felt absolutely happy. It was invigorating to actually be moving around inside the games, and no one needed to sit and use screens.


Not exactly the message to send, but I like it.

Wednesday, February 19, 2020


I used to post pix of my novelty sox all over the place. That stopped when a silent follower finally popped up in my DM sharing a foot fetish I was evidently stimulating. I was instantly grossed out and stopped sharing my love of novelty sox.

People giving me any kind of attention generally irk me, and sexual attention of any kind instantly repels me.

I didn't date at all until I was out of high school. I find dating tedious. Scott is the only one I've been able to tolerate, despite my checkered past, mostly colored with alcohol.

Every time I see a pic of my sox now I feel sad that a stupid person had to ruin it for me. I cringe every time remembering that.

I think that bothers me more than all the others. I've never yet figured out why.


Per the usual, assessing back into physical therapy flared up my neck. Fun and games. Blood pressure is staying down though. Oh, yeah, wound up in ER again yesterday over another hypertensive break out (220/130), so I'm finally getting better educated about the happiness of clonidine as needed. 170/anything plus a headache is considered hypertensive emergency. 😒 Guess I'd better pay attention.

Anyway, PT starts in March. Been way too cold lately to get out so I'm good with that.

Total 9 pounds down now since New Year. Yay.

Oh, back to the blood pressure. Pretty sure it's coffee. Like, third time now it's blown up around coffee. I really gotta get off that stuff. 😢

Accidentally going incognito while I'm wrestling with emoji. I loathe blogger on phone.

I think it heard me. We're bouncing around like a fencing dual.

Monday, February 17, 2020

well, ~mostly~ staying out of trouble

I get to assess back into physical therapy Wednesday, thank goodness. I got a rough headache up the left side since the cortisone shot and it's not in a hurry to fade back out. Among other things.

I'm feeling de-synced. A little off the rail or something. Not lined up. Kinda like I'm a bit bumped off a rhythm. The world rhythm? I'm ignoring everything and everyone. A rogue Borg, perhaps.

Goals still on track, though. Taper smoothed back out. Calorie reduction holding. Sleep scores still rising. Staying out of trouble.

Dug hard into the server over the weekend, like the old days. Finishing stalled out renovation on my player shop. Got my horses all tamed and named, novelty horses inventoried. May start selling pets in my shop if I keep this up. Tightened up my storage and backstock. Mined my brains out.

Thought some more about our world under hostage. What it might be like living here if that had never happened. How perverted and inside out it is to put the words "beautifully tragic" together, yet that is humanity as we are. An art form. Not sure how I feel yet about being someone else's 'art'. If I'm coming to understand being and true reality correctly, my own words may become that distinctive conclusion on what was happening here being worth continuing to uphold as an art history. If, after all, we all create and are all part of each other as a whole being, then becoming a part of this art as separate brushstrokes adding to an overall picture for a Mind to step back and ponder... is justified? Justifiable? Is art worth this amount of pain and suffering? The art of living, as it were.

The timeless question. How far is too far? When is it time to stop the experimentation and call it done? That seems to be my job in all this, defining how ugly is ugly, and what is no longer art.

They know what I'm saying. And if they know that, then they know who I am.

Sunday, February 16, 2020

can't help falling

I couldn't even imagine this ship until I'd seen the first two seasons of Gotham four times, and the rest three times. It suddenly hit me that Jim was the only person Oswald even brought up to his mother in confidence. Considering she assumed Oswald was a girl-chasing "tomcat", that's actually huge. He otherwise never told his mom anything about his underground business plans, so she would never understand "trust" being an actual prearranged bond with a cop as an informant. Falcone metaphorically gave the 'bride' away in what one could leap to being a Freudian shotgun wedding of sorts.

In the old days I'd have torn into a full essay on what some inherently see (and leap to presume), but I'm tired. It doesn't matter. It does lend loads to the 5th season, though.


I'm still not understanding how my dormant pinky blog has 3X the readership of the fan blog, and literally going bonkers this month from all kinds of crazy directions. The oddest question left hanging is if pinky is that big a deal, why has it not followed into this blog. It looks like pinky is literally being put through translators post by post and there are over 1500 posts there.

Oh, well. I gotta sleep. The world can spin in a tizzy, I'm floating out on this song.

Friday, February 14, 2020

love the pain

Cortisone was a bear, had to step back up to last week's taper dose. Sleeping good, though.


Funny how that question comes up again out of the blue. No one ever asks if there is anything they can do to help stop a plan skidding off the rails for the thousandth time. They even assume I still have a plan. My platform has finally burned down to nearly dust, and still the question comes up. I feel so completely invisible in my own house.

And he even mentioned wanting his money back. From 2013. I mentioned handing out cash left and right lately. From my dad. I've more than paid that back just being nice.

Happy Valentine's Day. My 26th in this house. I own that I chose to stay.

Thursday, February 13, 2020

but it's a nice kind of agony

2-12-20 7:45 pm omg *finally* fixed the widget update problem, only took ~looks at watch~ 6 days. The research I did just figuring out the mix of problems contributing to that one stuck update was way too over the top. I finally had to switch back to classic before I could even start addressing what I was needing to do. Took a blogger in an Asian country getting screenshots to walk a help agent through the question, even though their english was exemplary, so my faith in blogger help is so underemined now that I can barely believe tech giants are so glaringly oblivious to the messes they make.

That's right, I'm actually writhing in agony over coding again. 😂

She's baaaaack.


12-13-20 6:30 pm

Had my last cardiac related follow up today, all I can say is the last 4 doctors I saw are extremely pleased with me (endo, neuro, ortho, and primary). My progress since 2011 has been nothing short of phenomenal.

The crash began in 2004. I made the Plan in 2008. 2011 was new medical team.

Takes time, guys. You want something bad enough, you go after it.

And it's not over yet...

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

be still

The echo went ok yesterday, although it was personally horrible getting around town. Yes, left ventricular diastolic dysfunction with normalish ejection fraction, everything else noted was trivial to mild and no evidence for stenosis. This condition has been linked to sleep apnea.

So thank you, again, to my psychologist for recommending that sleep study.

Today I go in for a third cortisone shot in my shoulder and hopefully get referred back into physical therapy.

My gabapentin taper is down to 2-1-1 this week, which would not have been possible without that shoulder work.

I didn't even think about my life being this good again 5 years ago.

New asics have arrived and I've begun regular exercise again like I used to do. Easily handling 20-30 minutes, so I've not really backslid as badly as I thought. Foot pain directly responds to carby eating nowadays, and as I've not fallen to a single homemade dessert since Christmas, steady walking is getting easier again.


Other ecouragement sources on youtube.

Greg Hamilton vlog

Higher Self

Edge of Wonder

After Skool

And this guy is pretty cool.

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

moving back to get unstuck

This connects back to moving forward.

I may need to go further back to deal with the actual moment I keep getting stuck in, but I'll get to that another time. Gotta dash.

Monday, February 10, 2020

how much to give

Many years ago when I was reading everything I could get my hands on, I ran into a story about a man who was taken prisoner and put into an impermeable box, with the only instruction being that if he could escape, he could remain free without any more apprehension. He thought long and hard about the box, how a box represents dimensions in all directions. One day his captors discovered he was gone. They never thought about the box the way he did. They didn't realize that one could move in any direction inside a box, and that includes backward through time. The man simply moved backward through time until the box was no longer there and then walked away.

I suppose the first thing anyone would say is that we don't have the capacity to do that, so that is impossible.

But we do...

...if our head is the box.

We are stuck inside our heads. We get stuck in moments and can't seem to get past them. What if we move backward through time before those moments arrived?

We cannot unmake those moments, but we can arrive at a time where those moments didn't have us stuck.

I've been working on that.

There is a certain letting go that must happen, though.


Also many years ago, I had brief visions of my progress. I've mentioned them on blogs awhile back. I'll put them all together here again. When they started happening I didn't know what was going on. It was during the time between the abortion and the long, dusty road. I would see them briefly in dreams or nearly waking states just before I woke up, or sometimes fully awake.

In the first one, I was a kid with my family in a station wagon, driving along a long empty highway through big empty fields with a simple barbed wire fence running alongside. I looked up at a mountain we were passing and wished I could get out and see it.

In the next one, the car was stopped, and I was ducking through the barbed wire into the field at the foot of the mountain, which seemed like a long way off.

In the next one I had crossed the field and stood at the very base of the mountain about to climb. (Just had the craziest deja vue writing that line.)

In the next, I was picking my way up the first small slope. It wasn't easy, but I was enthusiastic and didn't stop even when a rock slipped and I bruised my shins and stuff.

In the next I made it over the first slope and looked up and realized the mountain was absolutely huge and would take a very long time to scale. I looked back at the car still sitting by the side of the road. It looked small, but much easier to get to than up the mountain. I turned back to the mountain and looked up. I wanted to see the way the eagles could see way up there.

In the next I had started on the mountain in earnest. I was still very near the bottom, and discovering that mountains are very 3 dimensional and don't always just go up all the time. They can be pretty and pleasant in spots.

In the next I was in a very steep climb and it felt like the hardest thing I was ever doing in my life.

In the next I was atop the first small bluff and realized, looking up, how very small that amount of work was. I looked back at the car. It was a dot. I knew it was my last chance to go back without getting lost on the way back. I turned back to the mountain and looked for another bluff to climb.

And it was like this, over and over, brief stretches of how far I got. There was a point where I was scaling a very sheer face to another blufftop, and it took a lot longer than the rest all put together, and I kept telling myself once I reached the top, I'll have succeeded. Reaching the top was a wonderful relief, yes, but it clearly wasn't the top at all. I just couldn't see over and past it from where I had been. I could have stayed on that plateau, and I did for awhile. And then I committed to finding the actual top, with the realization that I'd be topping many other areas before I ever got there. BUT, I was able to look down from there and begin to see like the eagles.

Further on, further up, I ran across a cave opening. I wandered in, very tired. I noticed a light so I went in further. I crept into the very dark places where there were beautiful lights and very interesting music that lulled my mind whenever I got close to and settled near a light. They were gems of all brilliant colors glowing in the dark, and I lived among the blind salamanders for what felt like a long time before I realized I was entrapped by the colors and the music. It took more than one vision to see this play out, and in the end I tore myself away from the comfort of having my mind lulled and crept around in the horrible painful dark of the cave before I finally found a way back out into the sunlight so I could start back on my climb up the mountain.

That last paragraph is important. It doesn't matter  how high you ascend, you can still be ensnared and your mind lulled.

Anyway, after that I kept climbing and climbing. There were parts where clouds misting by made it hard to see how far I was getting, and other parts where brambles and steep slippery moss and wet rocks made it hard to keep advancing without sliding back over and over. There were more bluffs to plateau onto.

I saw all that. After the long, dusty road happened, those stopped.

I look back now and I think I was being shown my future here in this life. I didn't realize back then that I could see it without understanding any of it.

And I have been living that out.

The cave part with the lights and music might be what I've just come from, not sure yet. I can feel myself emerging from a deliberate lengthy time out while I was dealing with real life in flux all around me. I don't know if lulling out was a good idea or not, dreaming through part of the learning ascent, because I wasn't ascending in the vision, more like lost.


I loved one particular class in high school where I learned to diagram sentences. I think that was the very first of my discovery that other people speaking poorly was the problem with my crazily misunderstood interaction with them. I was still too green and naive to work on that constructively, just enjoyed a new toy. I still have to diagram sentences in my head when I misunderstand people. Pronouns are the worst. 'It' refers to a particular thought in one sentence, leaps to another meaning entirely in the next. 'It' doesn't tell me which noun it's attached to when another person has broken the diagramming. I come to a completely erroneous conclusion based on that other person not taking the time to notice they switched off without reattaching anywhere. A few minutes later it clicks and my world is all good again, but for several seconds or even minutes, everything is facepalm and I'm not understanding why the other person messed stuff up so badly that I was trying to fix. But they didn't really.

I'm seeing more and more that my friendships through time have broken apart because of something as simple as the other person never having learned how to diagram a sentence, and misunderstandings galore happen because my head cannot leap and click on the fly like that.


I still believe I came here to this life, mind stunted, if you will, for a very good cause. I believe I'm here to do something, and that is talk to you. I believe my thoughts are part of you now, and you will go on and do what you came here to do with my encouragement.

Yes, you. This was not a chance meeting. This was not an accidental read.

Saturday, February 8, 2020


This is the first time I've been able to nail the year down for that summer. I kind of remember wanting to find it a few years ago, but it got lost somewhere in my brain again. I think I'll be able to remember it this time.

I keep my college transcript in my sock drawer for when I need help remembering what happened when. I've never been able to correctly remember 1981-1990. When I try to reconstruct around and between the semesters I can clearly see I attended, I can barely hold on to the slippery bits that won't let me permanently pin them to a timeline.

I remember being there. I remember doing things. I remember people. I remember my job.

That summer was the second time I remembered her.

Memories are tricky things when you get blindsided and go off the rails for awhile.


Somewhere out there in the 3 million words I have scattered online, I remember I wrote something about when a guy I was dating that summer asked me if I'd ever made out with another girl, I didn't say anything and remembered her golden hair while I kept smoking, staring at the city skyline in the night.

No, I never have, but that was the moment I knew I could have if she had ever wanted to (which never once came up, but just saying). I was too wasted to feel the sad lurking deep down, and it would be nearly 30 years before I even figured out why I was so sad underneath everything all the time. I never told him he triggered a memory that would haunt me the rest of my life. Never told him about her.

That was a key moment. I knew in that moment I didn't want to be with him, and that I was making a huge mistake being all that way from home in the first place. After that night I started drinking continuously around the clock until my body started fail mode, which took less than a month.

And then by the time I left and barely made it back to Missouri, that memory had been locked back up again and I didn't think about her any more for a very long time.

I didn't notice until Pinky blog that I have a depression pattern every single year around her death day, and it took a couple of years even pinning down that's what it was.

You can lock memories away all your life, but you can't unlive them. Anyone could point out that it's  best not to dwell, and I can easily say yeah, I didn't dwell for how many years, right? But ever since the memory finally came back, I keep running into it. The really interesting thing is seeing all the hints I dropped to myself for so many years on my blogs.


Maricopa County is well documented for marijuana busts. I was there in the summer of '87. If the drug lord I hung out with then is still alive, he's about 50 now. I met him when he was 17, fleeing California and taking over territory in Peoria. He apparently grew up in the business. I met his dad, probably somebody famous as underground crime families go.

I was dating a different guy, completely oblivious and more on the idiotic side of screwing up his own life, and I never mixed the streams. No one ever knew who I knew and where I really was from one moment to another. No one knew until I started blogging that I had a close shave with never making it home alive.

And after I recovered I continued to make more mistakes until my world was so dark that there was just no saving myself. All credit goes to Scott stepping in with all new distraction that got me back on track with raison d'etre.

And right now he's watching Live PD. 😂

I feel very sick writing this post. Every time I write about her I feel very sick.


I watch an awful lot of stabbing on Gotham. For several years awhile back, when I was very very ill, I couldn't watch anything bloody at all on TV. I guess I'm ok now, I'm watching all kinds of murder on my Gotham rewatch. I've been noticing how many of the villains stab right into the neck, into a jugular, slick as slick, very pro. I've been ranting for years that that's exactly what I'd do if I were killing people with a knife, stop messing around with stomach or ribcage and just bleed them out fast. Well, Penguin has several very interesting realistic moves that show me they did their homework. How many shows don't even bother with actual anatomy and just poke swords and knives and whatever into characters and they magically just die so easy and quick, right?

Per the first link I made up there, I know entirely too much about death. And knives. And anatomy.

Oh, well.

Friday, February 7, 2020

update test

Why is this blog not being picked up across my blogger widgets in real time on other blogs? Very irksome.


I've been wondering all year if Gotham is a euphemistic coinage of Goth America, and the entire story is a euphemistic unfolding of the political financial war that has been playing out over the decades and we're too dumb to see it. The 'Batman' saga might possibly one of the most prophetic disclosures in our national history, with major players and organisations being rolled up into bit parts and plot twists.

The more research I do into the revaluation and Judy Byington, the more I believe Stan knew what the Court of Owls really was.

The recent reimagined series is incredibly thorough.

Thursday, February 6, 2020

best February ever so far

Tomorrow is my last day on event monitor. Again, easiest one I've ever had. Literally forget I even have it on.

Echo is next week, cortisone in shoulder the day after. From there I schedule out what will hopefully be my last round of therapy on that.

I've lately veered into leggings and back into slacks. Sick to death of jeans. I didn't own a single pair of jeans when I worked. They became the go-to through years of infant-toddler-kinder care. Getting a little jewelry back out. I don't own much, but it's nice.

The daily veg thing is way easier lately, too. I've been all over cruciferous and lettuces, including baby spinach. Sweet potato curbs the carb cravings. If I go off the rails I make oatmeal. I haven't eaten any cookies or cake since before christmas. Yogurt fills in for ice cream.

Still having a little trouble holding coffee down to one cup. I figure it'll be like this through the rest of the gabapentin taper.

Scott is in week 3 of the chest cold from hell, as verified at clinic. Sounds like bronchitis but it's not. I'm mimicking the cold without real symptoms. Can feel slightly inflamed tissues, not miserable like he is. No idea if cutting the sugar out made that drastic of a difference, but I'll take it.

Still living in two worlds. Perspective has changed. The emotions are gone. I feel like we struck a middle ground to share. First time I've felt like this. Maybe blogging to myself helped.

Jacky doesn't like Pinky, though. Nice to get that nailed down, less confusing.

Ha, Jacky doesnt like anyone, good one. Voice from the back.

At any rate, had a good day out even though it was below freezing all day, don't have big pain anywhere, don't feel sick, don't feel depression or anything else. Very nice change from overfeeling everything for the last few years. Kinda hope it lasts awhile.

Started the Gotham rewatch all over again this month. It literally really does take me several times around a movie or series to actually see and hear and follow the story. It's a lot of work.

that was easy

Wednesday, February 5, 2020


Is there a forward? I'd prefer resolution over stalemate, but not at a cost if there is one.

The sabotage is subtle.

Undermining possibly being a survival strategy...

Motivation is priceless. I could blame the taper. Who would even notice.

And that's exactly why inside my head is more real than reality.

Still, meeting in the middle isn't bad.

Sunday, February 2, 2020


Dear Japan- I know you don't hit this blog but I just wanna say hi and thanks for not spamming the other blogs so I know you're a real person. 💝

Still coasting through the cold that's wiping everyone else out. I barely have a symptom, but I'm tired and want a second nap.

This is for all of us who watch those still trapped on medias and entertainment today. Anons know why. One truth the players never seem to realize is even through mirrors, fire cannot ever be mirrored. Fire burns us all. Something to think about.