"Disclaimer reads Warning Explosive Content; handle with care

When did I get here?

My boo is sick... she has asthma issues when she gets colds.. well at least that's what the doc is telling me. So I use a nebulizer and she's on steroids.

When I got the prescription filled for her steroids the pharmacist actually came out from behind the counter, over to where I was waiting for the prescription to be ready and said...

"ok, now... this is more than likely going to have an effect on how your daughter acts. I mean, she'll probably be a little more emotional and a little more hyper, not sleep so well.... so you know."

Now, I'm not sure if that's the "official disclaimer" that they for some legal reason or another can't actually print on the bottle.. or if it's just a nice way to say...

"Look lady... I'm giving your kid some drug that's going to make her nuts and consequentially... you're going to want to beat her.. but don't.. it's not her fault."

Hmmm.. I think.. it's going to be a long week.

This was yesterday morning.

I dropped her off at daycare, and went to work. (I'm the only person bringing home the bacon, and I only get so many sick days a year which are reserved for days with fevers, or communicable diseases, like the measels or something, or she just is so bad she lays there and needs me to hold her. But if she's running around playing, she goes to daycare, cuz I gotta work.)
I gave Shelly instructions not to hesitate to call me, and off I went.

I picked her up at her usual time, and she came with another disclaimer...
"She hasn't slept, she laid down for her nap, but didn't actually sleep."

Oh super..
She happend to be sitting outside playing with sidewalk chalk, and ignoring me.

hmmm... usually she sees or hears me and screams MOMMIE! and comes running.

Nope.

"Boo!"

Nothing except the scrape, scrape, scrape of the chalk on the drive.

"Boo-boo... we have to go home."

She didn't even turn her head, but did however manage to pick up the entire bucket of chalk and dump it.

"Ella, we have to go home, now you need to pick up the chalk and put it away."

Nothing.

A little boy decided he was going to pick it up for her to which normally I would've stopped him and made her be responsible, but there was something telling me to let it be.

I found my self treating her as if she were a bomb someone found and reported to the bomb squad (yours truly) on the drive, and carefully moved in to ask her one more time to get up so we could walk to the car.

Nothing.

"Oh shit.. here we go" I said under my breath...

As I picked her up the ticking of the bomb started to affect her little legs and arms and she closely resembled one of those string puppets where the puppeteer has had an epilepsy attack. Except puppets don't scream "I wanna Waaaaaaaa (breath) aaaaaaahhh (breath) aaaaaaaaaall (breath) aaaaakkk!! (REPEAT.)

I somehow managed to get her little body strapped in the car seat as she hit, kicked and screamed at me.

All the while my inner child and I had a discussion that went something like this:
"Hit her back! Hit her back!"

"No, no,no.. I'm the adult here."

"Awww.. come on just hit her!"

"NO!"

"yeah, yeah do it.. do it.. hit her back, wow... she really smacked you ... smack her back!"

"NO!" I shouted in silence to my self... it's not her fault, she's two.. it's not her fault.. she's two.. I managed to keep on replay in my head drowning out my inner brat.

She screamed all the way home until about a block and a half where she fell asleep mid scream.. no shit. Mid scream.

Well the night went pretty much the same as the 15 minutes I just relayed above so I won't bore you with those details.. when she finallly went back to sleep at about 10:30pm I breathed a sigh of relief, and thought.. thank GOD I have to go to work tomorrow and not be around her all day.

And then...

She woke up.. not until 5:30am.. so no big deal, got ready, dropped her off at daycare. I dressed a little sassy cuz I needed the boost, and I was hoping just maybe I might be able to get a sitter and make it out to Trail....

I was at work about 25 min.. when I got the call

"Linda?, this is Shelly"

"Uh-oh"

"Well.. she's all right, but I really think she's feeling pretty bad, she's not moving.. her eyes are half shut and her mouth is half open...and well... I think maybe you should come get her, let her rest at home."

shit
"Ok.. I'll be right there."

Now... I remember the day before I took the E.P.T. test ... I was on a plane back from AZ where I partied my ass off and had an awesome time, and flying back, completely exhausted the plane seemed to be filled with people who had children... screaming, crying, noisy, seat kicking, whining children... and I thought... man I am NEVER going to have kids!

The following day I took the E.P.T., yep, you guessed it POSITIVE...

Right.

So here I am it's Friday about 7pm.. and I've spent the day with Miss DyNoMitE!

I am on my second glass of wine and she's still awake. I usually never have a glass until she's in bed asleep, and then it's only one, since I'm a single mama and have to be repsonsible incase something were to happen.

My second glass of wine....

Daughter is still alive, unbruised, unharmed, and unbeaten... I had no idea that dynomite was like those trick candles you can buy... that just keep relighting and going out, relighting and going out... I've lost count of how many times she's exploded, screamed, cried, whined (at a very high volume mind you) and how many times I've told myself to give her slack, walk away, she's a baby that's sick and on steroids...oh.. how... I. am grateful for my second glass of wine to combat the ever present whine (at a very high volume mind you.....

For Fitz

You're an Expert Kisser

You're a kissing pro, but it's all about quality and not quantity You've perfected your kissing technique and can knock anyone's socks off And you're adaptable, giving each partner what they crave When it comes down to it, your kisses are truly unforgettable

What Kind of Kisser Are You?

Harmony Park

Let me tell you about something that's been on my mind a lot lately.

Harmony Park.
Spearhead.
Potato Chip Sandwhiches.
Green Stalker Man.
Drumming.
MUSIC
Stars.
Oak Trees.
Tents.
Good Friends.
Laughter.
Smoke.
Love.



Let me tell you about 3 days I spent last summer in a place called Harmony Park.

My friend Orley calls me up and says...

"Linda you HAVE GOT TO get a babysitter for memorial day weekend!"

"Ok... why? what are we doing?"

"The Big Wu Family Reunion" she says, and proceeds to fill me in a little about what it all entails.

Now... people call me a hippie, but I pretty much see me as a hippie wanna sorta be.
I mean I like the ideaolgy.. peace, love..etc., but I like baths too, and as Orley would agree emphatically, I'm a little too uptight at times to actually be a hippie.

I'm working on that.

Sidetracked... let's see... Harmony Park...



The weekend started for Orley, Turtle & D, Friday morning.. they..( well Orley and D ) packed food, supplies, and comforts for all four of us for the weekend, and hauled it all out to Harmony Park. Goddess Bless them!



Turtle?
Well, he ate, smoked, ate, drank, peed, ate, smoked, ate slept, smoked, ate... REPEAT .. for the ENTIRE weekend!

Me?
I had to work until four, and was jumping out of my skin.. cuz I wanted to be on my way... it's amazing how slow time moves when you are one place and you have somewhere else to be.
Time didn't stay that way however, it by Sunday when I was driving home it felt like I blinked and the weekend was over. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I had no idea really, what to expect.

I joined the group at our "home" for the weekend, and met our neighbors Clay and Lisa.



Now these two are a story in and of themselves, which I think Orley should tell someday, but I will tell you this.
Clay NEVER stops. He's always moving, talking, fidgiting, laughing, fixing, cooking etc.
Lisa is his ground. I think she keeps him from flying off this earth truth be told, but all in all two great people.

We sat around the fire that night and enjoyed the awesome oaks, the stars and friendship.

Perfect.

Hadn't even gotten to the music yet.

Turtle and I decided to walk up to the stage and check out Michael Franti & Spearhead.



They started to play.

I stood there in the middle of a bunch of people, and listened, I got the shivers.
"Everyone deserves music, sweet music"

I'm not sure why, but as I listened to the music and look around at the people next to me, the stars above me, a tear started to roll down my cheek.

I was so happy and sad all at the same time. I was happy to be there. I consumed the music, I drank the stars, and breathed life, love, laughter.

I was sad. I was sad that this wasn't the "norm". I suppose not at all unlike a child who is at a friends playing, and doesn't want it to end. Unlike a child in the fact that I realized what it was that I really liked was an idea, the way people treated each other there, should be the way the world worked.

You see the whole time I was there amongst thousands of people there wasn't one fight, one assault, one harsh word utterd. No one thirsted, no one hungered, no one was alone left to fend for themselves. People shared freely, and there was Harmony.

Harmony Park

2. The boyfriend

I met Dean when I was 15.

He was just about to turn 19.

He was my boyfriend all throughout high school, we did everything together...
well actually we did what ever he wanted to do. I know more about classic cars than any girl should.

It was expected in our small town that you would go to school, graduate, get married, and have babies.

I really wasn'’t convinced of that. I hated the small town. I hated how closed minded everyone was, and part of Deans appeal was that he wasn'’t from my home town.

He moved with me to St. Cloud where I was going to college in the fall. He passed up a scholarship to stay with me 3 years earlier, and ended up working production in a company that made eyeglasses. He hated it, and I didn'’t blame him.

I was going to school, working part-time, making new friends and having fun. I tried to include him in everything, but he refused, and would get pissy everytime I stayed at school to work on a project or go research things at the library etc.

It got to the point where I would walk out to the parking lot, only to see him trying to hide in his car, spying on me.

He would follow me to work at 4:30 am, and after classes I would go workout, he followed me there too.

One day as I was going in to workout a guy was getting into his car parked next to mine. He said hello, I said Hi back and thought nothing of it, until I saw a note on my car as I was getting in it to go home. It said
"“hey my name is Tim, I think you'’re gorgeous! Call me...."” he listed his phone number.

Being a freak and not wanting to litter, I threw it into my gym bag and forgot about it.

Dean went through my gym bag while I was in class the next day.

When I got home the apartment was dimly lit and empty... the hair on the back of my neck was up, and chills went down my spine.

Every single picture we had out of us was torn down and pieces of paper were put in their place with words scrawled out un-intelligably. They read: "“True Love, yeah FUCK YOU" "“Me and BITCH"” "“I loved this CUNT"” etc.....

I stood there, not quite sure what to do.

I started to pack a bag, but it was so new in the semester that I didn'’t know who I could go to. I didn't have family close either. think I said to myself...

I heard the doorknob turn.

It must have had a direct connection to my stomach, because I ran to the bathroom to vomit.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I smelled him before I saw him. He smelled like whiskey.
I don'’t remember who spoke first.

He vocalized a few choice names for me that he had scrawled out on paper.
And finally got to the point...
He didn'’t believe that I wasn'’t cheating on him with this guy and that I needed to call thislistened while he listend on the other phone while I told this guy I didn'’t want to see him and never to contact me again.

Now to this day I feel sorry for this guy.

Why?

Because this poor unsuspecting man left a note on a car of a woman he was interested in, hoping to get a response.

Well he got a response. A very loud freaked out chic on the other end of the phone line who was trying to convince her psycho boyfriend that she wasn'’t interested in him, and to get him to admit ( Dean said "“and do it without letting him know I'’m listening, donÂ’t coach him"” ) that they had never gone out, or seen each other before this. Now, I wasn'’t very calm, or thinking of his feelings, and I'’m not sure what I said... but I do remember what I was thinking...

"“God, please... please let him see the truth.. that I don'’t know this guy... and Tim PLEASE don'’t say anything cocky.. I don'’t want to get hit....please"

Then next voice I heard was Dean'’s

"“Tim if I see or hear that youÂ’ve even been close to Linda, I will kill you."

Click.

From there I started to make plans to leave.
I was only working part-time and paying for school which I was doing full-time. There was no help from home on this, and I didn'’t have any close friends in the area. That meant I was going to have to bide my time.

We went threw a few more episodes like this, and I new what to look for, and played the mind games right back at him.
I told him I loved him when I secretly hated him.
I would never skip a goodbye or hello kiss even though I wanted to spit in his face.

I knew how to survive and remain invisible.
How to keep from getting hit.

It had been 3 weeks.

I suggested he go out of town to see our friend in Granite Falls for the weekend, blow off some steam.. hang out with "“his" friends, and I'’d meet him down there after my shift on Saturday.

I didn'’t have to work, I was going to go apartment hunting but I knew if he was around that wouldn'’t happen.... after all.. he followed me to work!

I convinced him.
He called about every four hours friday night, and Saturday while I was at "work"”.
One girl I worked with was nice enough to agree to lie for me, and say I was busy and would call him back.
I stopped and called him back. He wasn'’t smart enough to space out his "checkup"” calls, much less do them randomly.

He had our friend "“A”" call me Saturday night to make sure I was coming.

I didn'’t want to, but I thoughht I had better in order not to arise suspision.

Wrong decision.

He was pretty much drunk by the time I got there and he wanted me to go outside and "“talk"”.
He wanted to apologize for how he had been acting.
He said he had been talking to "“A"” about it, and he had realized how stupid he was being.

I said I didn'’t really want to talk about it right now, lets just enjoy the time with old friends.

He got pissed. Started swearing, and "“A" came outside to see what was up.
"“A"” told Dean to go inside mix a drink for me, and then all three of us would talk about good shit.

It was taking Dean quite awhile to mix a drink, and I was cold so we went back inside.

There was Dean sitting on the couch sunglasses on at 11:30pm and holding.... something.

What the hell was that?....

... a wire or something...?

I said I was going to run to the store to get some soda. I needed to get away from him and breathe.

"“A? I'’m going to go get some soda quick, anything else you need?"

Dean responded with a low slow laugh.

"“What'’s so funny?"”

"“You can'’t go anywhere, I took the coil wire off of your car."” he said through a cheshire grin.

I looked at "A"” for help and before I could say anything Dean took advantage of the situation he created.

"“Let'’s go Linda, I'’ll take you."

Again in the silence I begged A to say something.

Nothing.

"“What's the matter Linda? You don'’t even want to ride to the store with me?"

"“Sure I do... I...just...."

One more time I looked at A.

He winked.

"“ok, Dean let'’s go."

I wasn'’t positive what that wink meant but, I knew A wouldn'’t let me down so I agreed to go.

Still in his sunglasses at midnight, he got behind the wheel, placed his whiskey coke in the cup holder, lit a cigarette and put the car in gear.

Silence.

We were going out of town.

I started to tense up, I knew I needed to break the tension, I needed to act like everything was ok.

I tried to make small talk, tried to think of something that would make him believe that I loved him, only him.
And the conflict between the words and my soul started a war in my stomach.
I thought of everything to not vomit. Just keep talking Linda

My response came from the whistle of the train abarreledoad crossing lights flashed in front of us.

Dean smiled.

As the train barrled through at 60mph, he stepped on the gas and I heard the gravel fly. Then the break.
Gas. Break.

"Do you like this?"” he growled

"What? Dean STOP! Your getting too close!"

Laughter.

Gas. Break. Gas. Break.

"“DEAN!"”

Laughter.

He lit another cigarette.

"“Do you like this?"”

"WHAT?!” NO! STOP IT! What do you mean?"TALK to me"”

Break.

We were inches from the train.

He started to tell me how I was cheating on him and he new it.
How I was a bitch and slut.

The train was gone, and we drove over the tracks.

I started to protest, and say that I wasnÂ’t cheating, I never had. TRUTH.

He started to drive faster.

I tried to tell him that I loved him, loved him more than anything. LIE.

He drove towards the ditch at 80mph. DARE.

"“Do you want to go off? This is what you'’ve been putting me through for the last couple of weeks."

"“Dean. Stop."”

He swerved back to the road.

I looked out the window and realized where we were.

He had chosen the road that had the deepest ditches. He knew that if the car went off we would both be dead.

"“If I can'’t have you NO ONE CAN Linda" he said as he drove back towards the ditch.

"STOP IT DEAN! I don'’t want anyone else... just STOP!"” I managed through screams.

I don't know how often he went back and forth it was probably only a few times, but it seemed like forever. I gave up pleading with him and started to pull my hair at some point. I remember thinking that isituation it hard enough I would be distracted by how much it hurt. It was a poor attempt to at escape the situtation if only in my mind.

The next thing I knew I was being pulled off the floor of the car by A.

I was shaking. I thought I was dreaming, but I knew I wasn'’t, could I be?
I sat down behind the car in the middle of the road.
We were still on the road.

A had been following us.
Somehow he had gotten in front of us and blocked Dean.

I heard them yelling at each other. A had a baseball bat and was hitting the roof of the car, screaming.

I was shaking sitting in a ball in the middle of the road, seeing myself doing it.

How odd I thought

Then I feel A tugging on my arm, pulling me up. He was telling me I needed to get in the car.

"“ok."

We walked towards the car.

This wasn'’t "A's’" car.

"NO!" I screamed

"“You have to get in Linda. I talked to him, and he promised he would just drive back to my place safely if you got in the car. If not he'’s going to kill himself. You have to get in the car Linda."

"NO! PLEASE! PLEASE! don'’t make me ride with him... god.. A.. please don'’t, let me ride with you.. please... PLEASE!"

"“You can'’t Linda. You have to ride with him or he will kill himself."

"I DON'’T CARE!"

"“Just get in the car, he won'’t do anything he promised me."

And with that he shut the door, and I was back in the car.

Dean wanted to talk. He was acting like nothing had happend, he was talking about getting married, where we should live.

I was quiet. I was watching the road, positive that at any moment the nightmare would start over again.

"“Linda?"

"“LINDA!"

"What?.. um... oh... yeah..."

"“What'’s wrong with you?"

"“Nothing, I just have a really bad headache."

"“Lay back sweetie, close your eyes... trust me."

And with that I gave in.
Not because he said to, butsurprisee I just let go. I couldn'’t make it different. I couldn'’t stop him. What ever was going to happen would happen. I gave in.

And to my suprise he drove us back to A's house.

Still shaking I was met by A, who took me in the house and to his room.
He apologized for making me get back in the car but he said he knew Dean wouldn'’t come back if I didn'’t, and that he trusted his promise not to hurt me.

I was in shock. My body was shaking so badly, and I couldn'’t stop.
I couldn'’t even respond to A. I knew he was talking to me, and I was responding in my head, but I wasn'’t saying anything to him.

He tucked me in his bed, and covered me with all of the blankets he could find, and still I shook.

I was cold.
From the inside out I was cold.

I left Dean as soon as I got back to St. Cloud.

I moved in with a girl in a locked dorm building and from time to time I would see Dean sitting on my car in the dark, smoking a cigarette staring up at our window.

Even in the hot summer nights, I shook.

Interesting Life? All the way to Spankings? HUH?

Have you had an interesting life?

This was a quiz idea that was in the seminar I was at yesterday.

Immediately I thought of Butch, Carr, Orley, Michael... yes, yes, yes, and yes.
I mean talking to anyone of these people you kind of feel like you're not really living your life like you could. More like you've missed some opportunities or something.

So I thought about reviewing my life.... to search for something that would seem interesting to someone else.. would someone really read a book about my liife?

Ok.. what would be interesting?... What's happened???

Chapter one?

My childhood?

Normal in the everybody's life is fucked up somehow sense....
My dad was an alcoholic (weird how I can never just write that word.. I have to really think about how to spell it and still never get it right) So he had the temper that went with the angry drunks and you never knew if you were in for it or not.

Now I'm wondering how much of this I should write. I don't want to come off as "oh poor me.. what a horrible childhood I had" cuz I didn't. It wasn't roses, but there are people in a billion times worse situations than I could even imagine. But childhood helps shape who you become, so maybe it's relevant.

The worst thing done (and done often) was "spankings" with dad's leather belt. We never really had to do anything wrong... he would find something or believe we did something and that was it. And he would always preface it with "This is going to hurt me more than it is you."
By the time I was 6 or so I would think "Fuck You" and make a deal with myself that no matter what I would not cry.. I would not let him see me cry. I would pretend it didn't hurt, and I didn't cry until I was alone in my room, and I learned to cry softlly into my pillow.

I was more angry than hurt most of the time.

I grew up on a farm. We had horses, pigs (UCK!) and cattle which meant we had chores to do.

I remember being about 7 or so and I was doing my chores one night, and it had rained. As I was walking my new boot got sucked off into the mud.
I was terrified. I knew if I went into the house without my new boot I would get "the belt" so I started digging through the mud. As I was frantically searching, the sun slowly set for the day.

And there I was... digging for my black boot in the dark, in a good 5 inches of mud.

And then... my other boot got sucked off.

I just sat down and cried.
I don't know how long I stayed out there afraid to go in, but I do remember being cold, getting scared cuz it was dark, and finally giving in.

As I walked through the basement door crying, my dad was there waiting... he was angry cuz I was coming in late.
When he saw me covered in mud, he lost it.

You see about a week prior one of the spankings I had gotten was because I was covered in mud.

It was a very hot summer day and I had decided to go "swimming" in the horses water tank. On the walk back to the house I got muddy. When I got in the house dad asked why I was muddy, and I reluctantly told him I had done.

Now, I wasn't sure why that was so bad, and I'm even guessing now that the reason had something to do with the water was dirty? Or more than likely I made the horses water too dirty for them to drink.

"You were playing in the horse tank again weren't you?"

Through sobs I managed "No."

"Don't you lie to me"

"I'm not. I lost my boots"

"Because you were playing in the horse tank again"

Sobbing even harder, the choking feeling in my throat, I said again quietly

"no."

"Get upstairs, get ready"

So I would get "ready". He always gave us our "spankings" before bathtime.
We would be in our undies, and the smack of the belt would sting so much I swear I would pretend I was someone else.. anyone else... anywhere in the world.

The very last time he used the belt I was 16 yrs. old.

He had company over, and without going into the whole long story, he said I talked back to him after he asked me a question, and I had bruises from my ass to above my knees.

I wrote a note to a girlfriend of mine in school the next day, and she gave it to the school counselor.

I got called into his office, and he wanted me to tell him more.
I wouldn't.
He said he wanted to talk to my dad.

I thought that was going to be the end. I was terrified.

I ended up living with my grandparents for a couple of weeks, and for the rest of my high school days he pretty much refused to acknowledge my existence. Which was fine by me.

I moved out of the house one week after I graduated high school.

He stopped drinking.

I moved to St. Cloud with my boyfriend of 3 years.

I didn't know it yet, but I just jumped out of the frying pan and into oven.