The featured photo is what got me to thinking about the “dream season” on Dallas. I shared that photo in 2020 and it generated discussion. I went to look at the original post and was reminded of what it was like in 2020… in 2023, it seems like a nightmare we woke up from, even though people are still getting COVID. Naturally, this post isn’t JUST about that, though… it’s a hodgepodge of thoughts, as usual.
This morning, I found out that we lost yet another musical legend. Gordon Lightfoot, a Canadian singer-songwriter with a distinctive voice and beautiful, intricate, guitar laced melodies, passed the bar yesterday. He was 84 years old. While it’s always sad to lose a luminary, I’d say Gord had a good run. As a child of the 70s, his music touched me deeply and was a big part of my soundtrack. I’d say he was one of a few artists my dad and I could agree on when we took roadtrips. Unfortunately, my dad would try to sing along, which always annoyed me.
I wish I could say I enjoyed listening to my dad’s singing voice as much as other people did. I’m not sure why, but it was like nails on a chalkboard to me. I used to get in trouble a lot when I was very young, because I’d stick my fingers in my ears during his church choir solos. I never quite lived that down, either.
My mom got so she could laugh about it. I’m sure they just thought I was being a brat, but it really was uncomfortable for me to listen to my dad sing. That was just one of our many disagreements over the years. Maybe it would have helped him to know that I have similar physical reactions when I listen to Celine Dion and Barbra Streisand, although I can acknowledge that both are fantastically talented singers. I don’t think Dad was as good as they are, but he did have a voice that many people enjoyed. I simply wasn’t one of his fans. I wasn’t, even before our relationship became more difficult.
But we had other issues besides his singing… I don’t think my dad liked me very much. He took out a lot of his frustrations on me. I remember him being much nicer to me when I was very young, except when I misbehaved. Then he’d become scary. But when I was very little, he seemed to think I was much cuter. When I got older and formed opinions, and exhibited some of the very same argumentative qualities he had, he liked me noticeably less. But he was there every day… and he was a good provider. My dad wasn’t a bad man. We simply didn’t get along. Sometimes, your relatives turn out to be people you’d never befriend.
In any case, I’m sitting here listening to old Gordon Lightfoot songs, wondering if maybe I might like to try one today. I’m shuffling through my memories, remembering how it was not so long ago that people were panicking about face masks and social distancing. I remember how stressful it was, as people were discouraged from venturing out anywhere. Everything was closed, so people spent too much time on the Internet. I already spend too much time on it myself, but suddenly, people were becoming more and more polarized. I know it was a reaction to the extreme stress of the time… a mysterious virus that was legitimately threatening people’s lives, and people talking like the whole world was going to change forever.
In 2023, it all seems like that time was just a bad dream…
I write this, even though in 2022, there were still a lot of places requiring facemasks and people were expected to be fully vaccinated against COVID-19. But even in 2022, the concern about it was waning, in spite of the constant doom porn from the media. As a former student of public health, I had a feeling this would all be better within a couple of years. It turns out I was right. People developed immunity, as they do… and we got vaccines. Still, so many people were lost to that virus. It’s just so strange that it’s now kind of a bad memory, not unlike the “dream season” on Dallas.
This was kind of silly… but Pam Ewing woke up, and suddenly, it was all a bad dream.
Of course, COVID wasn’t just a bad dream. It was a literal living nightmare. But, as I like to say, every cloud has its silver lining. If you think hard enough about any given situation, there’s usually at least one positive to come out of it. Even really horrible things in history have their positives… if only because people learn from their mistakes and policies finally change.
Living in Germany for almost nine years (this time) has taught me that the horrific Hitler era taught profound things that has made most western Europeans more knowledgeable about, and vigilant against, fascism. The Holocaust was an absolutely horrible way to get that experience, of course… but at least they did get it. At least they were educated by it. It would be much more tragic if no one learned anything from that time. Today, all German children learn about the horrors of the past, so it will be less likely to be repeated. I just wish more Americans would open their eyes to that era and learn where we could be headed if things don’t change. Unfortunately, people often fail to look beyond what’s two feet in front of them.
Still, there are some glimmers of hope… and thanks to the Internet, we can all now connect in ways that were once unimaginable. And while sometimes, it seems like everyone is angry and wanting to fight, there are still moments when connection happens and we can stand in solidarity.
Yesterday’s post was about how I was reminded of what really matters. I wrote about how I had trouble writing for some time… and then kind of managed to shake off the fear. I heard from people who like what I do, which was much appreciated. I look back at 2020 and realize I’m glad I survived that year. I’m glad the worst of it seems to be over for now, especially given all of the other stuff going on now… And, although I’m always sorry when someone beloved passes, there’s also some good in that. For instance, right now, I’m listening to a song Gordon Lightfoot wrote in the 1960s, hearing other people’s interpretations of it, and thinking I’ll try it myself. Twenty-four hours ago, this music wasn’t on my radar at all…
I wish I’d appreciated Gordon Lightfoot more when he was still living. I do own a lot of his albums, but I never paid as much attention to them as I obviously should have. But the good thing is, I still have time to discover more.
I’m going to give this song a whirl… maybe I’ll post the link here, if it turns out okay.
And here it is…
Along with a follow up…
I had to change the key, hence the less than stellar accompaniment… but I think this turned out okay.
This is going to be another frank, and potentially “inappropriate” post. Proceed with care. And if you think I’m a jerk for writing this, you’re probably right. But that may be the worst you can say about me.
It’s Memorial Day, but not in Germany, where it’s a normal workday for German people. It’s not a workday for Bill, though, so he’s home, sneezing because of all the trees having sex, as spring begins to turn into summer. Bill’s big plans today are to get himself on my cellphone contract, at long last, and to pay a visit to the local Telekom and speak to someone about the useless cable box we’ve been renting since late 2018.
A technician came by our house at that time, but was unable to hook up the cable to our television. He didn’t tell me why, other than to say “it’s not possible”. My guess is that it has to do with the phone line, which we don’t use, since we have cell phones. Anyway, we are technically subscribed to German cable TV, but we can’t watch it. I’ve been bugging Bill to do something about it, since his German skills are better than mine are. He’s decided that today is the day.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to recover from my restless night. I am not quite menopausal yet, in spite of my apparently ancient appearance to mean-spirited “pro-life” losers on the Internet. I spent all night having to go to the bathroom, because it’s that time of the month. Consequently, for the second night in a row, I didn’t get much sleep.
Then, when I finally did fall asleep, I had a nightmare about the singer, Anne Murray, and her daughter, Dawn. There were some aspects from my recent life that were in the dream, to include people moving (common in the military community at this time of year), and people committing suicide, which sadly has also been something in our lives recently. But, you know how dreams dissipate when you wake up, unless you’re very disciplined about remembering, like Bill is. He’s been working with a Jungian therapist for the past year, so he makes a point of remembering his dreams. He even writes them down and sends them to his analyst. Then, at their weekly meeting, they have fascinating discussions about what the dreams might mean.
I have no idea why Anne Murray was in my dreams this morning, or why she would be part of a nightmare. I like Anne Murray’s music. Remember, I am a child of the 70s and 80s, so her music was a big part of the soundtrack of my extreme youth. I find some of her songs comforting, even.
Once I was awake, and tried to tell Bill about my bad dream, adorable Noyzi, the street dog, decided to pay us a visit. He still hasn’t figured that he can push open doors by himself. Maybe he’s too polite to try that. It took him forever to realize that he can push open the screen curtain on the back door, which is poorly held together by magnets. Once again, I’m amazed by how different Noyzi is from the beagles we’ve had. He’s very well mannered, and doesn’t try to make trouble. Ironically, I’m sure our former landlords wouldn’t have wanted him in the house, because he’s a big guy. But he’s probably the best behaved dog we’ve ever had.
So, once we were awake and enjoying breakfast, I decided to check in on Ex, to see if maybe she knows about the latest grandchild. I would have expected her to mention it on her very public social media by now. But nope… she still advertises her “4.5 grandchildren”. She was actually pretty quiet over the past few days, but I guess she needs money again, because she’s posted another crowdfund request for people to help fund a fence for her youngest son, whom she’s said has severe autism. Now… I have no reason to doubt that her son has autism. In fact, I’m sure he does have severe autism. However, I have learned to take what she says and writes with a grain of salt. After twenty years of observing her, I have concluded that she’s not a very honest person.
Regular readers might recall that a couple of months ago, Ex was begging people to help her erect a tall fence for her son, whom she says has a bad habit of escaping her home. She’s said she’s been confounded by his efforts to run away, and she’s tried a whole bunch of things to keep him from taking off. All have reportedly failed. So now, she needs the help of strangers to pay for a fence to contain the young man, so he can “play” outside. She also wants to get a therapy dog for him, and that costs big bucks that she doesn’t have, because there’s only one paycheck coming in to her household– my guess is that it’s #3’s work as a certified nursing assistant that keeps their household going.
In March, Ex paid a manipulative visit to my husband’s widowed stepmother, and asked her for “financial help”, which SMIL wisely declined to offer. Then, Ex brought SMIL packing and mailing supplies, in case SMIL wants to give Ex anything to “pass down” to Bill’s MIA older daughter, who still doesn’t speak to Bill, and didn’t have much of relationship with Bill’s dad when he was still living. On the trip to see SMIL, Ex brought older daughter and her daughter with #3. I’m not sure what she did with her “escape artist” son with severe autism, who desperately needs a fence because he runs away. Perhaps #3 took some time off work. I’ve heard that #3’s mother lives with them, but I’ve also heard that she isn’t in the best of health. It seems unwise to have her watch a teenaged boy with autism who runs away.
Anyway, after that visit, I noticed that Ex quietly took down the link to her fundraiser. But yesterday, she put it up again. Or, she put up another one, and tweeted celebrities, begging for money. Looks like she’s leaving Mark Hamill alone this time, but George Takei got tweeted at, as did a couple of actors from a show she watches, and a famous author whose books she reads. This time, she’s asking for $6000, instead of $5500. Last time she did this, she contributed $500 to her own campaign, which didn’t result in inspiring anyone else to add any funds.
The Seaglasshole is at it again.
You’d think that Ex might try to come up with another way to get the money she claims to need so badly, given that the crowdfunding technique hasn’t worked in the recent past. I know it can be difficult to apply for grants and loans, and I know for a fact that Ex isn’t the most creditworthy person. She says that crowdfunding is her only recourse. But, as someone who has a master’s degree in social work, I call bullshit on that. I think she just needs money, and figures that her son’s situation is the best sob story to present.
Money provided by grants and loans would likely require accountability, or at least paying back the money, plus interest. Ex would rather depend on the kindness of strangers to take care of her family’s alleged financial needs, as she also plays fangirl to entertainers, artists, and authors. Does she access their works from the library? Or does she buy autographed copies of things… or monthly “gift” boxes of trinkets from Scotland? Seems to me she might have more luck funding the fence if she spent more time figuring out how to make the money herself. But… I don’t think she actually wants to build a fence. I think she has bills to pay, or burning desires that she wants to fulfill. And she rationalizes that if nice people who have money to spare can help her out, she won’t have to repay them, and they don’t have to know how she uses the money.
I also wonder what will happen if she actually manages to get a service dog for her son. Does she realize that dogs are a financial commitment? How does she intend to pay for all of the things a dog needs? And what will she do when the dog is more into her son, as is appropriate, than her? She’s not proposing getting a family pet. She claims she wants a service dog. But if they get a service dog, that dog will have to pay attention to the boy. Knowing Ex, I think that might be a real challenge for her.
Anyway… I realize it’s none of my business. I am lucky enough to be wise to her. I think that younger daughter is wise to her, too. I suspect that she hasn’t told her about the latest addition to her family being born. I’m sure that’s because Ex will make it about her, and might even threaten to visit. And I’m sure that younger daughter could use some peace and quiet, not to mention some rest. I do think it’s interesting, though… that the people who were denied access to younger daughter for so many years, are the ones who care the most about her baby being born. And they were evidently the first to know. Meanwhile, Ex is “back on the fence about things”, again. 😉 Come hell or high water, she’s gonna get that fence… maybe by the time her son is legally a grown man.
This is going to be a really cranky and inappropriate post. If you choose to read it, you may not agree with some of the reasons why I’m cranky. That’s fine, but I don’t really want to hear about it unless you have a funny comment to add, kind support, or commiseration. I have a right to air my grievances on my space, controversial though they may be.
Fair warning. This is my mood today.
Yesterday was an annoying day on several levels. It started off okay enough. I showed off Bill’s Bento Box packing skills to my friends. He cracks me up, because he’s so health conscious and he likes to pack visually appealing, healthy lunches for himself. Meanwhile, I’m planning to eat Cheetos. I ate a strawberry for breakfast, and a seed got caught between my teeth, which was very aggravating. I’m also dealing with Aunt Flow, who made an irritating return after three months. There’s not enough flow to need a lot of protection, but there is enough to make me feel “not so fresh”. Then Bill went off to work, and that’s when things began to get even more annoying.
My husband is such a good egg.
Before the morning was over, I watched a video on the Meet The Wengers channel. I have been following this lady, Katie Wenger, for a few years now. She’s American, and she married a German guy from Stuttgart. They have three kids and live in Berlin now. I watched her latest video, which was followed by one of her old videos, from when her eldest child was still very young and she was pregnant with her second baby. Her son, then a toddler, had a massive tantrum in a department store, and some rude bitch came up to her and said, “You’re going to have another baby and you can’t even handle the one you have now?” Oh my God… what a rude, insensitive, CUNTY comment that is. Poor Katie was crying. I’m sure I would have fired lasers at that woman if she had said something like that to me. What makes people think they have the right to make comments like that to perfect strangers?
I’m sure she was nicer than I would have been in this situation.
After I watched Katie’s video, it was approaching 1:00pm, which is when one of my banks in the USA opens (7:00 am, Eastern time). I needed to call them, which is never something I enjoy doing. I mentioned last month that I’m wanting to change banks where I do checking. For many reasons, I’m trying to fire USAA.
For over a month, I’ve been trying to set up a checking account with a bank I already use. Yesterday, I called them for the third time about this issue. The first two times, I was told that their system was giving them an “error” when they tried to set up a checking account for me. They said IT would look at it and they would get in touch with me. But, of course, they never bothered to contact me. I was about to give up, but on Tuesday night, Bill managed to open a checking account online with no issues whatsoever. So I called the bank and was told that they needed a “physical address”. I gave them my German address, which the system didn’t want to take. But Bill lives in the same place I do… so why was he able to open an account and I’m not?
Adding insult to injury, this bank’s app sucks. It’s no longer recognizing my fingerprint, and it tells me that my email and phone number are not eligible for two party authentication, even though I was using the app successfully a few days ago. If I go to the actual Web site, it lets me log in and sends me texts and emails with no issues, albeit not without lecturing me about my usual browser, which it doesn’t like. So I called the bank and complained about the checking account issue, reminding the person that this was my third call about this. Then I told her that every other time, people have said someone would contact me, and they never do. I sent an email, too, and got terse response from someone who apparently didn’t understand the issue and simply explained how to use the app, as well as admonishing me to give them a couple of days to contact me. But I don’t hold out much hope for that.
After the bank fiasco, I decided to try to read, which led to my getting drowsy and wanting to take a nap. As I was about to drift off, the doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting a package or company, so I was a little irritable. I opened the door, and there was a maskless guy standing away from the porch, speaking rapid fire German to me. I fixed a stare on him and said, “I don’t speak German.” Ordinarily, I might have made an attempt, but I wasn’t prepared for his visit and was, frankly, not in a good mood.
He stopped and showed me his phone, which indicated that he was there to read the meter. I said, “You need a meter reading?”
He started going off about Strom (energy) and I said, “Yes, I understand. Come in.” In Germany, the meters are inside the house, usually in the basement.
As he entered the house, I was almost knocked over by the gallon of cologne he was wearing. He immediately started fretting about Arran, who is a friendly old dog who just wanted to say hello. He said, “Your dog…”, like I needed to control a vicious animal or something. Noyzi didn’t come down at all. I can only imagine what his reaction would have been to him!
I said, “He won’t hurt you.” I shooed Arran outside and the guy hesitantly moved the dog gate to the basement, with an air of how I should be more accommodating. I was thinking to myself, “If you want me to be dressed and accommodating, let me know when you’re coming next time.” The guy got his reading and was on his way… and by that point, I didn’t want to nap anymore.
So then I started reading the news, and there were the reports about how the CDC is making the public transportation keep mask mandates until May 3. As usual, the annoying virtue signalers were out in droves, with many saying that we should all be masked on planes forevermore. It shouldn’t surprise any of my regular readers that I think the mask mandates on planes need to go… and I feel certain that it’s only a matter of time before they’re history. Why? Because the masks aren’t very effective, and their enforced wear causes people to act like maniacs on planes. I’ve mentioned before that here in Germany, we’ve been wearing the supposedly superior “FFP2 masks” (like N95s) for months. COVID is still rampant, probably because the virus can still invade through the eyes. But good luck getting people to wear safety glasses or eye goggles.
Planes are so uncomfortable anyway, with the tight seats and lack of legroom. Now we all have to wear masks, and everybody sits around hostiley watching everyone else, hall monitor like, counting the minutes to see how long they take to eat and drink. It’s ludicrous, and it makes airplane travel unacceptably unpleasant for me. So, I decided to add a comment voting against the mask rules.
Naturally, I got a laughing reaction and some guy apparently decided to “school me”, asshole style. I didn’t bother to read his comment. Instead, I unsubscribed from the thread, because I knew there would be a slew of people trying to argue with me– people who went to the Google School of Public Health and want to share news articles with provocative headlines that supposedly “prove” their points. Most of them haven’t even bothered to read the articles they share to support their lame assertions that this is the way we should all have to live from now on. I really ain’t got the time or patience for it.
Just because I am not in agreement that masks forever are the way to go, that doesn’t mean I don’t comply with rules. I do follow the rules, but I don’t have to like them. I can comment negatively about them if I want, and that doesn’t obligate me to have a conversation with some stranger who is just going to insult and berate me for not being a “humanitarian” and cheerleading for masks. I also know I’m not going to change anyone’s mind, and they aren’t going to change my mind. I just want to have my say, especially since I know a lot of people secretly agree with me, but don’t want to say it out loud, because they don’t want to deal with the mansplainers and virtue signalers, either.
Then Bill came home and we ended up having a rather unpleasant discussion about Ex. He’d like to forget all about her. So would I. But, as we’ve seen from recent events, she still thinks she has a claim on Bill’s family, and she will continue to try to scam his relatives. So someone has to keep an eye on her. Then he told me he thinks I have an attitude of wanting to avenge against her. And, you know what? I do. I am absolutely furious with Ex for everything she’s done over the years, and you bet your ass I want to see her pay for her wrongs. However, she is certainly not worth going to prison over, so I just patiently wait for karma to hit her. Besides, as long as Bill talks to his daughter, he is going to hear about his ex wife. Younger daughter hasn’t recovered from growing up with that narcissistic woman as her mother. So, if he’s going to have a relationship with his daughter, he’s going to be hearing about his ex wife. I told him if he wants me to stop talking to him about her, maybe we should get a divorce. Of course, neither of us wants to get a divorce, but obviously, someone needs to watch Ex so that innocent people can be warned when she decides to engage in fuckery.
I had a nightmare about Ex and former landlady this morning. I dreamt we had to move back to the Stuttgart area and we got a house on post (which don’t really exist, especially for retired people like Bill). It turned out the house was owned by ex landlady. I dreamt that I was preparing to move, and I said to Bill “Well, at least we know what to expect.”
This morning has been marginally better… I read an article on Military Times about how the military lifestyle is preventing some people from starting families. One lady wrote about how she and her husband are dual military and they haven’t reproduced because of the cost of childcare. Some dickhead wrote, “You shouldn’t have children if you can’t afford them.”
That comment pissed me off, because it’s so rude, thoughtless, and dismissive. What if a person could afford a baby when the baby was born, but then couldn’t afford it later, due to a reversal in fortune? So I decided to leave a kind comment for the woman. 20 years ago, when I was in grad school, I worked on a project in South Carolina that addressed how expensive childcare is… and how it’s not always available, like at night, when some people have to work. It sounds like the issue is an even bigger problem now than it was in 2000. Sexist attitudes from numbskulled, perspective challenged military guys who are dismissive and lack empathy, are not helpful. I’ll bet that guy also thinks that women should be forced to birth, but I don’t care enough to look at his profile to find evidence.
And then… the pièce de résistance…. feast your eyes on the status below…
Facepalm…
Folks… if you made it out of high school, you should know full well that female mammals have two openings “down there”. If your dog is “peeing blood”, it has nothing to do with her reproductive system. Mammals don’t give birth from their urethras. Jeez. And humans have periods. Dogs and a lot of other mammals go through “estrus”– they go “into heat”– which is not the same thing as menstruation. I can understand why the guy who posted this felt like he should explain that his dog can’t go into heat. However, I was pretty bowled over that a man who is presumably old enough to work in Germany with the US military doesn’t know that females don’t have periods through their urethras. And dogs don’t have periods at all! I guess I should be glad he’s taking her to a vet. That’s more than I can say for some people. On another note… I’ll bet he needs a flashlight and a compass to “flick the bean”, since he evidently thinks pee and menstrual blood come from the same hole. I mean, I got a D in biology myself, but I know there’s a difference between the urethra and the vagina.
Bill did make me smile before he went to work, though. We were talking about the pretty bits of glass and pottery some clueless lady in Croatia sent Ex. Ex was gushing about it, and calling it “Mermaid Mail”, because she’s obsessed with mermaids. Bill said, “My (older) daughter is going to make something with those pieces and Ex will take credit for it, as usual. But hey– if Ex wants to build a Mermalair (reference to Spongebob Squarepants), who am I to protest? I just wonder if (#3) is Barnacle Boy.”
I had a good laugh at that. Bill can really be hilarious when the mood strikes. He’s helpful, too. In fact, he helpfully took from me the bag of dog shit I had collected from the backyard, and then he went off to work, Bento Box in his (other) hand. He also shared with me this awesome memory from when he defaced a Book of Mormon at a Marriott hotel, years ago.
Bill can be pretty edgy sometimes.
I do know that in spite of everything that irritates me on the daily, I am a blessed woman on many levels. So take that, world. Hopefully, today will be less annoying… but it is Thursday, and that means I have to vacuum (my least favorite chore). So I guess I’ll stop writing and get on with doing that, so I can focus on being less crabby.
Warning– this is a rather personal rant… It may not be of any interest to people who don’t know me. Or, on the other hand, maybe some of you strangers can relate. Either way, I won’t accept any nasty or shaming comments from anyone who doesn’t know the backstory.
I had a bad dream this morning, just before I woke up. I feel pretty sure I know what prompted the nightmare, much of which I was able to remember. I haven’t historically paid a lot of attention to my dreams, but since Bill started studying Carl Jung, who was very much into analyzing dreams, I’ve been trying to pay closer mind to my own dreams. Bill likes to analyze them. Since I’m also a born storyteller, it makes sense that I’d pay mind to the “movies in my head”, even if they’re horrifying.
Perfect mood music for this post… and one of Dolly’s latest songs off her brand new album.
Here’s what I remember from this morning’s dream. I had just arrived at my alma mater, Longwood University. Or, that’s what I assumed, even though it didn’t look like Longwood’s campus. I was there with my roommate, a non-descript female. I was on basically friendly terms with her, but we weren’t best friends or anything. We were walking around the campus. It was hot and dusty, and in a weird way, the campus kind of resembled an open air airport terminal (no idea why). Maybe it’s because my adulthood took off from my years at Longwood.
We passed a business that looked like an airport bar, except there was no roof. My roommate needed to use the restroom, so we parted ways, and I was left alone. I decided to take a shortcut across campus. I was dressed in my usual outfit during my college days… shorts and a t-shirt, with tennis shoes.
Just as I was about to head into a hilly, wooded area, a huge, fat, anaconda type snake streaked out in front of me. It didn’t stop; it raced past with astonishing speed. It was quickly followed by another anaconda that was just as fast and slick. One might expect a person to pause continuing to walk into the woods after seeing two huge snakes. For some reason, I continued onward, in spite of being startled by the snakes.
I took a deep breath and stepped beyond the trees of the dusty street where I had been walking with my roommate. After I’d walked a few steps into the woods, I noticed there was a lot of detritus and junk in the woods. It was kind of trashy and uncultivated, with a lot of sticker bushes and weeds. It was not an area where a lot of people walked, but obviously, people threw a lot of trash in there. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to try to take a shortcut that way, but then I suddenly got this feeling of dread and danger…
What do you know? I swear, this is the first time I’ve heard this song… but it fits right in with what happens next in my nightmare.
As I was about to take another step, I was confronted by this very attractive woman in a long dress made of black satin. She had jet black hair and very pale skin. Her hair was perfectly arranged in a poofy bun. She wore bright red lipstick. The woman in the featured photo looks a little like her, except the woman in my dream had much paler skin and didn’t have bangs. Her face looked a bit more like the photo of Carmen Miranda, below… She was very attractive, but was also clearly evil and toxic. She immediately started attacking me.
Carmen Miranda kind of looks like the woman in my dream, minus the smile and sequins.
Based on my dream, I share this trait with Dolly…
I started fighting back. The woman in black gave a good fight, but in the end, I killed her with my bare hands. There was a lot of blood, and despite the fact that she fought back vigorously, it wasn’t actually that hard to kill her. As she surprised me with her attack, I found some kind of superhuman strength I didn’t know I had in me. And while I felt some pangs of regret at killing this attractive, beguiling, but very dangerous woman, I felt kind of vindicated and exhilarated…
She looked like her, except her hair was black, and in a bun.
Then I was attacked by a second woman. She seemed to be the sister of the first woman. She had a similar hairstyle– jet black hair in a bun, red lipstick, and a bun. But she wore a red sequined dress. I killed her with my bare hands, too. It was easier to vanquish the woman in the red dress, though no less bloody or horrifying.
I stepped out of the wooded area, breathless, panicked, and terrified. I am not a violent person at all, but I killed both of these women with surprising speed and strength fueled by rage. Of course, they attacked me first. But there I was with blood on my hands, having dispatched these attackers with my bare hands.
Then I woke up…
I told Bill about the nightmare, and together we figured out what it was probably about. Yesterday, we discovered that Ex, older daughter, and Ex’s daughter with #3 all went to see Bill’s stepmother this week. Ex just had a birthday, and has been clamoring for money in a crowd funder. At this writing, she’s managed to raise $500… but it was her own money that was contributed. She claims she needs the money to build a fence for her youngest child, a teenaged boy with severe autism. According to her fundraiser, the boy can’t go outside without at least three people surrounding him, because he runs away and winds up in dangerous situations or meets with “inappropriate people”– ie; homeless people, when he’s not wearing anything but his underwear. I swear, this is a story we’ve heard from a couple of good sources. I don’t know where the boy is right now, with his usual “caretakers” away from home. Maybe #3 is taking time off work, or they found a place to put him. Evidently, he did not go on the trip with Ex and two of her daughters.
Anyway… I figure that Ex decided to visit Bill’s stepmother, because she’s trying to maintain ties to Bill’s family, not because she loves them, but because she wants to exploit them. And Bill’s stepmother is an immature, needy person who will quickly condemn or forgive people on a whim. So, while Ex refused to let Bill’s daughters have a relationship with him, or his parents, she would, on occasion, let the girls and her eldest son see Bill’s dad and stepmother, as she told them lies about Bill. Stepmother told us during my last visit, which was years ago, that Ex had a habit of showing up at their house, letting her kids run amok, and treating her rudely. Stepmother and late FIL would give her expensive gifts or spend money on her, and Ex never appreciated it. She would make rude comments about Bill’s stepmother’s religion, or other things. Remember, Ex actually staged her divorce demand at the in-laws’ house over Easter in 2000. The in-laws have aided and abetted Ex in her schemes on many occasions.
I don’t get along well with Bill’s stepmother. I don’t think she’s as toxic as Ex is, but she is very manipulative and needy, and she will do things like send guilt mongering text messages to Bill, demanding that he come visit. She won’t visit people herself; the onus is on them to come to her. She used to do it to Bill all the time, but now she’s doing it to his youngest daughter, who is a busy mom of two young kids with another one on the way. Youngest daughter lives several states away from SMIL, and doesn’t really have the time or energy to drive several states to visit her.
Adding to this is the fact that SMIL’s adopted daughter doesn’t have children and has recently reconnected with her birth mom. I don’t know how much time they’re spending together, but if I know SMIL, I figure she’s probably feeling alone and betrayed… which would make her a sitting duck for Ex. FIL died in November 2020, so I’m sure SMIL has lost some of her resolve. And Ex needs money, and wasn’t invited to FIL’s funeral. I would not put it past her to try to get SMIL to give her money and/or give older daughter something from FIL’s estate, even though they shunned and disowned Bill and, off and on, his father and stepmother. They shunned Bill’s mother completely; younger daughter is only just now getting to know her grandmother, and they’ve apparently really hit it off.
Now… none of this is any of my business. I only know about it because younger daughter told Bill, and Bill told me. And, frankly, as far as I’m concerned, Ex and SMIL probably deserve each other. SMIL made it pretty clear that she’s on Ex’s side, even though Ex was extremely abusive and exploitative to Bill, and has done some things that, frankly, should have landed her in a prison cell. I know this upsets Bill, though, because it’s like Ex has hijacked his family. Ex wouldn’t even know Bill’s stepmother if they hadn’t been married. But he thinks that his stepmother has always resented him, because as a child, he needed and demanded attention from his father, on occasion. SMIL is a very possessive person. She’s immature, fickle, and treacherous. And even though she told me outright that she’s “just the stepmother”, she feels that Bill’s daughters are her grandchildren, when they’re really Bill’s mother’s grandchildren. The difference is, MIL was more than willing to share… SMIL wasn’t. She, like Ex, hates Bill’s mom. I think she probably hates me, too.
SMIL told me, years ago, that none of this was “any of my business”, since I was just Bill’s wife. However, I would submit that Bill’s kids and grandchildren are even less SMIL’s business, since she’s just the “stepgrandmother”. And she chooses to be involved with Ex, in spite of all of the truly nasty shit she’s done over the years. It wasn’t her husband’s income that went into keeping Ex’s household afloat while they were simultaneously and illegally denied any contact with the children. Why is it that SMIL can be as angry as she wants with anyone she pleases, but the rest of us have to cater to her bullshit and aren’t supposed to be upset with her?
So why is it me who “killed” the two women in my dream? Because I think they blame me for the divorce, even though I didn’t have anything to do with it. The truth is, I didn’t even know Bill when he and Ex split up. They had been separated for three months before I knew Bill was married, plus we were chatting online. I didn’t meet him in person until almost a full year after the divorce. However, Ex told her kids that Bill cheated on her with me, when actually, she cheated on Bill with #3. She also cheated with Bill on her first husband. And yet, I’m the one who is painted as a whore and an interloper.
I think SMIL resents the fact that I married Bill, making it impossible that he would get back together with Ex. She has trouble with change. She also doesn’t like my personality, because I don’t cooperate with her manipulative ploys or give in to her childish bullshit. I have a strong personality that a lot of people don’t enjoy. However, you will always know where you stand with me. I am who I am. I am not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I am basically a decent person.
SMIL asked me, last time I saw her, if Bill was ever abusive to me in the bedroom. She asked this, because Ex told her that he was abusive to her. I laughed and said, “no”… because Bill doesn’t have a single mean bone in his body. Anything they did in the bedroom was consensual on her part. However, it wasn’t always consensual on Bill’s part. More than once, Ex told Bill she should slit his throat and, in fact, she did violently sexually assault him at least once, and left scars that a doctor noticed during an exam. Still, even though I told SMIL that Bill isn’t an abuser, at least not to me, she chooses to believe Ex, who has taken advantage of her and FIL for many years.
Why were the two women in my nightmare so attractive? Ex and SMIL are not exactly sexy women, especially not these days. Well… I think it’s because even though I am horrified and angry about their conduct, particularly toward supposed loved ones, I find both of them fascinating characters. Like I said, I am a natural storyteller. I like to write fiction. I used to do it a lot, until a certain unrelated “snake in the grass” decided to get into my business. If I weren’t Bill’s wife, I think SMIL and Ex would make excellent villains in a novel. But, trust me, neither of them are the type to wear satin or sequins.
There’s nothing we can do about Ex and SMIL cozying up to each other. We don’t care about any inheritance from Bill’s dad. However, I do think it would be a real shame if Ex manages to swindle SMIL for money or property she can sell. She is not above doing that. She’s done it repeatedly in the past. I see her posting all sorts of shit on the Internet that makes her look like an empath, but she’s anything but that. She is a true wolf in sheep’s clothing… and some people, like SMIL, will simply never learn not to tangle with her. They deserve each other. They really do. I just hope younger daughter realizes that she doesn’t have any obligation toward them. She’s an adult with her own family, and she has plenty of her own problems to worry about. I hope the next time SMIL sends her a “guilt” text, but then refuses to answer the phone with younger daughter calls her, younger daughter just blocks her number. She doesn’t owe her, or her mother, a goddamned thing.
Hmm… maybe I’m in some of their nightmares, too… It wouldn’t surprise me. I’m everybody’s favorite scapegoat.
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