Witch Hunt: Salem 1692 and 2006-2008 on Blogger

This morning, I watched the movie "The Crucible" with Daniel-Day Lewis, Joan Allen, and Winona Ryder. The movie is based on the critically-acclaimed (and historically accurate) play by Arthur Miller, which chronicles the Salem Witch Trials in 1692, and from where we derive the term "witch hunt."

A shameful time in American history, the end result was that 19 innocent people were hanged for "sinful" acts that their accusers were actually guilty of dabbling in, desperately trying to throw suspicion off themselves...as well as jealousy of the wives of some of the townsmen.

There was absolutely no legitimate or credible proof other than the attention-seeking hysterics, bad-acting, and the word-twisting smear-campaign of the girls involved, along with clearly fabricated evidence and the bullied-into emotional reactions of the victims.

As a result of this proofless "witch hunt," our justice system changed and this sort of thing never happened in America again; however, it DID happen to me (and several other people) in the lawless state that exists on the internet, beginning in 2006.

For me, this movie/play brought back with shocking clarity and familiarity the events which happened on Blogger from January 2006 to March of 2008.

In the end, there were at least 13 people, predominantly women, victimized...six of whom I spoke with personally shortly before leaving... all complaining of similar events...and all of whom were curiously holding the the same small group of IP addresses responsible.

Being as my right-clicked picture attached to fake blogs, yahoo emails, and other accounts/information were now being used to harass other people ( and after a final email warned me to stop blogging) ...I permanently left Blogger on March 28, 2008, to spare others further harassment. I have not touched this blog or email since that day until now.

The third email I had received in this manner since November 2005, this last email was sent by my own account, to myself...only I didn't send it.

The email was confirmed by an IT professional to contain a trojan virus/spyware...the calling card of a hacker.

No one would listen or believe me, and how could I prove it WASN'T me doing it?

It was much like those viruses in the 90s that sent themselves to everyone in your address book that contained porn and you couldn't convince people that you didn't send them, lol...even IT people (often arrogant, God-complex types of people, lol) said it wasn't possible back then....and now we know that not only was it possible...but it became commonplace.

No matter how safe it may feel in the comfort of your own home, the net is THAT dangerous. You reject/block the wrong person or blogging pod and they'll sick a bunch of trolls on you to smear campaign you off, lol. Wow, how desperate some are to hold onto their fantasy lives/false versions of who they are and their 15 minutes of fame...and the internet is the closest some will ever get to fame or an audience, isn't it?

It still amazes me how easily people are fooled and how susceptible they are to the power of suggestion, especially on the internet. Granted, the public at large IS stupid; however, in their defense, those responsible went to sociopathic levels to smear campaign me, afraid I'd tell a few secrets.

How? By right-clicking on my picture and attaching it to fake blogs and commenting crazy shit on other people's blogs, leaving bashing comments right behind me anywhere I'd post, using the FAKE blog with my picture to comment right behind me to create confusion, altering legitimate emails before forwarding them to others, signing my misspelled name to yahoo accounts that I didn't even possess, and finally hacking into my real email and blog accounts.

You...wanted to know. Sorry it sounds crazy, but...truth is stranger than fiction.

It amazes me that even though we all know the dangers on the internet...though we KNOW it's a haven for the unhealthy, hanging out here to avoid who they are in real life/real relationships...though we've read the news that the yahoo emails of someone as well protected as Sarah Palin can be hacked...we still like to believe we're safe because we're sitting in the comfort of our own homes or work.

Worse, when it DOES happen, we STILL blame the victim that he or she must've deserved it...as if anyone deserves that.

My cyberstalking/cyberbullying was begun the same as in all cases of known and proven cases of cyberstalking...by a man who has now been found to hang out at support groups of vulnerable women (and met his wife this way)...and whose advances I had politely spurned online for years...and whom I finally blocked him after seven requests for naked photos, unequivocally and finally rejecting him in no uncertain terms.

He began contacting everyone from my blog with a false story that I had "borderline personality disorder" and had stalked HIM...which catapulted into an hysterical witch hunt. Suddenly, every little thing I did became some "symptom" of a diagnosis I didn't even have, lol.

He specifically targeted three women who were self-admittedly neurotic/mentally ill and who I had been the confidante of, two of whom were admittedly repeatedly jealous of the attention I was receiving on my blog that they felt they were more deserving of...and more importantly, all of whom I'd blocked after confronting them on private issues after they began to affect me adversely.

The rejected man teamed up with the three women and called upon known "net trolls" or an online fight club (that I was once asked to join and refused) to bully me off blogger, and everyone believed it without any proof...so they CREATED proof to justify it.;)

The Fight Club admitted there was no proof and didn't care....they just used the blog gossip to justify bullying people...much like a sociopath throwing a rock off of an overpass onto a freeway, they love to create chaos and finger-pointing fights, then stand back and watch the wreck, laughing.

In the end, those who made the initial accusations still refuse to show any remorse for their actions, refused to take any responsibility for the mass hysteria/chaos they created or that they altered emails, word-twisted and lied... even fabricated evidence completely.

They continued to shift blame and at the very most, blamed others for "influencing" their choices.

They finally claimed that the problem was a disagreement and a "matter of perspective" that I refused to listen to them.

Being I was their one-time confidante, they blamed my private confrontation of their very severe emotional issues to justify their behavior.

Ya know, it's interesting that any of you passive-aggressives that attacked me instead of trying to discuss things with me say that it's ME that wouldn't listen to YOU...

....because not a single one of you even TRIED to tell me directly, email OR blog, until AFTER I was attacked.

It was amazing how many people hopped onto the angry mob with a story, many of you I'd defended when attacked or bullied yourselves.

In fact, not even then. If I showed up even once to find out what the hell was going on, the who's and why's...the lot of you started screaming "stalker" and threatened to shut your blogs down or started posting with the fake ID of me to create confusion.

So no, this situation is NOT a matter of perspective....this was truth vs. lies...and there is no justification for your treatment of another human being like that under any circumstances...none.

In Salem, to this day, the epitaphs of the victims remain in the cemetary where their bodies were literally discarded...their last words proclaiming their innocence.

One reads: "God have mercy on me, I am wholly innocent of this wickedness..."

I still maintain my innocence and that I did nothing more than be your confidante and then confront a few of you, but only when your emotional problems began to affect ME adversely, repeatedly.

In the crucible, as the victims prepared to hang, the last words they uttered were these, the Lord's prayer in unison...

Our father who art in heaven...
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
Forgive us our trespasses, As we forgive those who have trespassed against us.
Lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,and the power, and the glory...forever and ever...amen."

I forgive you...

Chrystal Smith/Southernspeak4

As for your claims of my mental illness, it can and always could be proven in a court of law that you are lying, as well as that I possess no other mental illness than a trauma reaction based on events in real life, verified by a psychologist with 31 years of experience, Yale graduate.

As for me, I have faith that they WILL be brought to justice, face the actual facts, and I WILL be vindicated. Thanks.:)

Stuck in the Snow and Bush is "Waterboarding"...

I'm just stuck inside during a snowstorm and thought I'd write a snippet to mark my six-month anniversary today of moving here.

I'm looking out my big picture window and McKenna's tromping around in snow up to her knees, laughing about it, the little goofball, lol.

Would someone please remind God to hit the spring button? While you're at it, ask him to do something about Dubya.

So I'm looking at Little Bush on the news this morning, getting ready to VETO the "CIA Bill"...a bill which would legally ban inhumane interrogation methods by the miliary and CIA, such as "waterboarding."

Even his new best friend, Senator John McCain, has gone on record stating "waterboarding is pure torture." But we should know by now, Little Bush is determined...right or wrong, nobody messes with Little Bush while he's determined, lol.

FYI: "Waterboarding" is the military tactic of using "simulated drowning" to gain information from a terrorist suspect.

Um...would someone please explain what separates us from actual terrorists if we legally justify torturing other human beings under any circumstances?

What happens if a suspect is "waterboarded" and it's determined that they really don't know anything? Do they just go.."Oh, whups, dude, you're innocent....my bad....sorry I tortured you for no reason."

Well, since you're already such a big fan of waterboarding, Little Bush, perhaps someone should waterboard YOU. I'm sure we'd gain a lot of useful information, and at least our time spent doing so wouldn't be a complete sham and an exercise in futility...you know, like your entire time spent in office and the Iraqi War.

As a interesting aside about Little Bush, I have to tell you that the psychologist treating me for PTSD attended Yale with Dubya; her brother-in-law is still personal friends with him. She says that if you had told her then that he would be president one day, she would've told you to quit hittin' acid and laughed her ass off at the very thought.

BUT...the good news is, Hillary took Ohio....wahooooo!:)

Come on, election 2008....I really don't care if it's Hillary OR Obama; in fact, having one with the other as their running mate would be the dynamic duo...whatever, just...oust out of power that embarrassment to American history AND his little croanies, get a national healthcare system in place without breaking our bank (I like Obama's limited healthcare system better), and take control of OUT-of-control corporate greed...i.e...gas prices and pharmaceuticals run amuck. In short, just..."get 'er done."

I...really hate that expression, but in this case it's actually appropriate.

Thank you, that is all.

My Valentine's Day Lovers....;)

Which do not include a date, but DO include a flamboyantly gay man, Bubby, Bubby's dad, and some good girlfriends.;)

All right, let's get THIS out of the way first. I promised I'd post this video for my "Will" because he's more of a woman than I ever thought of being. His sweety is in Boston and has to work.

Happy Valentine's Day, honey. :) However, I refuse to autoplay it; I'll just post it at the bottom and you can play it yourself, lol.

Okay, okay, I admit it;The Prayer/La Preghiera really IS a beautiful song, particularly the end is chill-giving, though it isn't the best recording....and it IS full of cheese.

For me, Valentine's this year ended up being unexpectedly one of the best I've ever had, but not for the usual reasons. I worked both jobs yesterday and had no date, BUT....I received more cards, candy, flowers, and hugs than I could ever want, everyone was in a great mood, nobody really got any work done...probably because of the chocolate.

You DO realize, chocolate produces the same neurochemical in your brain that makes you feel as though you're falling in love. Who needs love when you have an endless supply of free chocolate?

Not that I didn't have any men interested...the usual freak-magnet set. For instance, here's the line of one guy I waited on...

Me: "So how is everything, anything else I can get for you?"

Mr. Overly Practiced and Smooth: "Just your phone number, and we're perrrrfect."

Groan. Retch.

Then there was a guy alone, seemingly normal at first, but they always are. He had no wedding ring and admittedly had no kids, but said that he loved kids and wanted to have them one day...THEN he pulled out his credit card...WHICH CURIOUSLY HAD ALL OF THE DISNEY CHARACTERS ON IT.

What the....????

He said he just loved all things Disney; he was obsessed with Disney characters.

Either he's lying or he's just freakin'...weird.

That sort of thing is enough to make a woman do a permanent Kegel even the jaws of life couldn't open.

For whatever reason, my adopted "little sister," Brea, decided I needed two straws with hearts on the end of them in my pulled-back hair, so that I ended up looking like a geisha. Will said I looked more like Sacajewea and I needed more bling, so everyone decorated them throughout the evening with metallic candy wrappers. It still wasn't fab ENOUGH, however, for Will.

"Hey, Sacajewea...Lewis and Clark went that way. They said for you to lose the hair straws before they'd hang out with you again."

"No, Will-son, IIIIII am to become geeiisha...I dance for you" and proceeded to bow and do some bizarre version of Sayuri's "Memoirs of a Geisha" snow dance.

Will just...walked away, lol.

Hey, I had my mojo working, but it "just don't work on Will." I'm SURE it's because he's gay and of course not because of my enticing dance.;)

Two seconds later, he's back, laughing, hugging me, and saying, "You are not allowed to quit working here, ever, without my permission and until I quit...I love you."

Right back atcha, Will...mwahh. Chai Raspberry next time?

Love,

Grace


P.S...Bubby has a date to the V-Day dance tonight, wish her luck. He's a pretty good boy boy, I have to admit.:)


CHEESE VIDEO: I remember watching this performance at the Grammy's, they brought down the house. Some people sound crappy live, but they were in perfect harmony, perfect pitch; it really was a "legendary performance," as trite as that phrase is.




Chrystal Smith/Southernspeak4

More Restaurant Stories...

From my weekend job...

I swear to God, I'm often tempted to just pull up a chair with some popcorn and watch the kitchen staff, especially when Sally is the window manager. She is normally the service manager, but they alternate to break the monotony.

She is hands down, one of the funniest women I think I've ever met. Making her even more interesting is that she's a sincerely good person, instead of using her wit as a weapon over other people unless she has to. (For a good Sally story, read a few posts down.)

She has a knack for motivating people...okay, perhaps blatantly threatening people...to get things done, lol.

Last night, we didn't have a food runner, so it was a bit chaotic, but when ISN'T the restaurant business chaotic?

Every two minutes, she'd scream...."I need runners...RUNNERS ALL DAYYYY!!!! HOT food, people, out of my window NOW....don't make me punch you in the head, I'm serious...oh, how I'm serious....oh, I'll hurtcha...HURT..CHA!"

Then she turns towards the side, despite no one being there at all, and does some kinda weird ninja move that looks more like tai chi gone horribly awry.

ME: "Sally, I WILL run food for you, despite that.... weird karate kid move you did, just now."

Sally: "JP, Chrystal just said she never wanted to see my ninja moves, ever again, do YOU like them?"

JP rolled his eyes and walked away.

JP is our singing cook. He has no shyness problem whatsover. He will sing any song, any time, and people in the back of the restaurant can hear every word he's singing and saying. In fact, many regulars ASK to sit in the back so they can listen to JP's songs and general improv. However, don't ask JP for requests...he sings whatever he feels like singing...or not at all. You...don't want JP in a bad mood, trust me.

Last night was apparently some sort of 80's Rewind Night, because I swear to God, I think I heard every song played at my prom. Sam often chimes in on duets and back-ups, and their particular favorite last night, heard at least five times, was The Proclaimers "I'm Gonna Be, " complete with thick Scottish brogue. Check the video...Bubby's gonna flip when she gets home because, of course... Johnny's in it, hehehe.

(JP's solo): "When I wake UP, yeah, I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man whooh wakes up next to youah.

"When I goh oUWWT, yeah I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who goes along with youahh"

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) Video

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) lyrics - Proclaimers lyrics

Proclaimers Music Videos

Music Video Codes by VideoCure

This sort of thing makes JP one of the most entertaining people I've ever met. He's getting his Master's degree in European history, and he's just applied to Oxford for his PhD...making him also one of the smartest people I've ever met.

The problem is, unlike Sally...he knows it.

He and New Hot Bar Manager got into a intellectual pissing contest through the window the other night, like Alpha males often do. I've...actually begun to take an active dislike to New Hot Bar Manager, as have most people. So their slight sparring competition went like this:

JP: "Yeah, I'm working in a restaurant next to you, despite graduating Magna cum Laude for FUN, assholes."

Hot Bar Manager: "Hey, a college degree isn't everything...look at me, I graduated with honors too, and I'm now a lofty bar manager."

JP: "Oh yeah? I'll be sure and remember that about you and everyone else here, when I'm at Oxford next year."

Which was overly shitty and sounded a bit superior. HNBM's face is turning bright red, now...he's...mad and trying NOT to go apeshit, like he usually does.

So despite my dislike for Hot New Bar Manager (and if given the choice, would choose JP over him for company any day), I decided that he had taken things too far; things were tense... so I decided to pop a pin in the overly large ego of JP, for the moment...hehehe.

"Really, JP, that's awesome....so...you've been accepted, then?"

Everyone stops what they're doing, it's dead silent, lol. I'm wiping down counters casually, with my back to him. They slyly smile and look from me over to JP.

"Well..not yet, but I'm sure I will be, with my GPA and history."

Bar Manager looks at me and winks. I have on my innocent poker face, which I actually have a hard time doing, usually. Hehehe...ain't I a stinkah?

I decided to smooth it over with him too, so he knows it's just a brief humbling session for him, but I really do think it's cool.

"Well, when you go... will you at least take me with you?"

"Okay, I will."

He's always really polite with me, I'm not sure what that's about. This is a good thing because I'd never want to get into a verbal tete-a-tete with JP, he'd... kick my ass.

However, later, he's mouthing loudly about how 90% of the people working there are idiots. He reminds me, loudly, that I have not put an upcharge on adding bacon at least three times tonight.

Me: "Thanks for reminding me, JP...I'm sorry."

JP: "No seriously, you need to do that."

Me: "Okay, you're right, I'm sorry...thanks."

JP: "Upchargggeee on bacon."

Me: "JP...I GOT dis, thanks."

JP: "It really bugs me for you guys to be asking for stuff and then not ring it in later."

Me: (loudly now): "Yes, I can tell...once again, I'm sorry...and THANK you, JP...for showing me the err of my ways. I can honestly say that I am now a better person, because of you....thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

Bar Manager spits out his sweet tea and everyone is laughing.

JP raises and eyebrow at me and says, "You're...welcome."

What could he say? Probably a lot, but he didn't...thank God.

That man could shred me verbally within seconds. I could put up a good fight for a little while, but I'd go down in the second round, I'm pretty sure of it.

Otherwise, it was mostly an uneventful evening of truckloads of rednecks coming in from the outlying areas, having just received their tax refund checks; coming into to the big city to eat steak and Miller Lite drafts or Beam and coke and tip us approximately 8.6 percent....so thank God for some of the people I work with for the entertainment, or the evening would've been a total loss.

Chrystal Smith/Southernspeak4

Bubby and Bob Dole? ;) Why My Daughter Rocks The Universe...

I just have to give props to my daughter, McKenna, this morning, for being the complete goofball she is and making me laugh...every single day. :)

While taking her to school this morning, she told me this story about her, her dad, and her dad's new car. For those non-real-life readers, McKenna's father is Zack, who is NOT the ex-husband I've mentioned; Zack and I never married. We're very good friends, but we're too...different to ever get married.

Now don't get me wrong, I love the man dearly; he's very funny and does little voices, laughs easily at everything...but...um... he just doesn't do "silly" or "absurd" very well.

For instance, she called him after watching MadTV at my house the other day, contorted her face, and said in a perfect "Antonia" lispy voice: "Hello. I have a cat named CC."

Her father said, "Really, McKenna. Did you fall unconscious recently?"

Here's the real antonia, so you can get the idea.



Anyway, her dad just bought a new BMW because he is always Mr. Stereotypical Blue-Blazered/khaki-pants-ed Republican, always about "status." I laugh at him on a regular basis for it. The only indication that he has a wild streak anymore is the left scap (shoulderblade) tattoo of a cloud and a lightning bolt with his fraternity letters on it, which I initially thought was an ice cream cone.

He bought this car in black, for some reason.

So McK decides to mess with him a little, and apparently she says to him, "Hey Dad...are you in the mafia? All my friends think you are because of your car. Dad... fess up, are you? "

"No, McKenna, I'm not in the mafia. Are you serious? DO people really think that???"

"Yep, dad, they do. In fact, everyone calls you 'Fat Tony."

"Wh-a-a? I'm...not fat."

"DAD...I'm J-O-K-I-N-G."

"OHHH...hehehe."

I don't know WHERE she gets that mischievous sense of humor, do you?;)

And ohhhhmigod, people, guess what? We've just finished her HIGH SCHOOL schedule for next year.

BUBBY WILL BE A FRESHMAN!!!

AAAAAKK! I'm pretty sure it was just yesterday I was holding her in "feety pajamas," pretending to chew on those chubby little toes to make her giggle.

Wasn't it just the other day that I had to chase her around the public pool, with her giggling like a-madwoman all the while, because she had completely disrobed from her Barbie bathing suit?

Wasn't it just last week that she and my former stepson shot my tampons as rockets into the toilet to watch them expand, leaving them there when my brother-in-law visited for the first time? (Luckily, I found this experiment in time.)

Now she will have completed high-school algebra and will be in Geometry already, as well as in Honors English and Honors Biology. Where did the time go?

I also laugh when I remember how bright we found out she was at such an early an age. Well, I guess we already knew, because she started talking at six months.

But about a year later, she began some bizarre fascination with Bob Dole that still defies explanation. I found THAT disturbing on so many levels, I can't tell you...I was horrified, lol.

You know what? I'm blaming her father.;)

Every time Bob came on the news, she was mesmerized. I seriously waved my hand in front of her face, but she was not to be deterred. She would wander around holding a newspaper with his picture on the front, it was just plain scary.

I was talking to her dad on the phone during a visit with him and told him to test her because he didn't believe me that she knew who he was and his name. So while on the phone with me, he pointed to a pic of Bob Dole in the paper and said, "McKenna...who is that?"

"Das BobDole."

His name was one word to her, bobdole.

"Heeyyyyy! That's right, honey, that's Bob Dole!!! All right! Who you gonna vote for?"

"Bobdole."

ME: "All right, now, that's enough, Repubic-man. Don't make me come over there and do a Dem Intervention."

"Hehehe. Hey Chrys?"

"Yeah?"

"Our daughter is a genius."

"I know, duh."

For years, for Christmases after that, her Auntie Kim and Uncle Matt gave her one Christmas gift that said, "To McKenna...love, Bob Dole" for our amusement. I think she really thought he was some eccentric uncle she'd never met that gave her treats at Christmas.

She doesn't believe me now that these things ever happened and flat out refuses to admit it, but I remind her that, guess what? We have video.

Gifted kids are weird, sometimes, what can I say. But everyone should have a Bubby, you should get one...except you can't have mine...I'm holding onto her a little while longer.:)

It's Lent/Ash Wednesday. Argh.

So I'm talking to my sister, Ruthie, today, trying to decide what I'm going to give up for Lent before Ash Wednesday service tonight, when I will get all ash-headed and reverent.

She has already decided to give up chocolate, which is a major thing for her. You don't understand...the girl actually makes satisfaction noises and is not to be disturbed while eating chocolate, so this is a very big deal.

Apparently, a coworker came up, while we were talking, with a chocolate cream pie and said, "Gee, Ruthie, wouldn't you lovvvee to have some?"

"You ARE the devil, you know...hey, shut up, or the pie goes in your face."

Did I...mention that she works as an admin at a church at present? Hehehe.

Like me, she too gave up her 60+ hours per week professional job as an advertising copywriter six months ago, when grandma took a turn for the worse; ready to step in for her turn if/when Mom gets exhausted.

A pretty cool and uncharacteristically noble thing for the previously spoiled family baby to do, she's grown up nicely...mostly...

Anyway, she gets all kinds of funky calls, working at a church, so it's very fun to prank call her with strange voices and stories and see how long it takes before she figures out it's me, hehehe.

So I thought about giving up cigarettes, but that's a bit too...stressful to tackle right now when things are finally settling down. Plus I've tried quitting before and I'm a real bitch when I do, and nobody wants THAT. I thought about giving up cursing and the word "fuck", but I did that last year and obviously it didn't hold.

So then I tried justification..."Hey Ruthie...isn't like...the whole point of Jesus' death supposed to be that he made that sacrifice so we didn't have to?"

"Nice try, Chrys, but it's about relating to his suffering, dumb ass."

"I think you should've given up calling me 'dumb ass' for Lent. Try not to think about your coworker's chocolate cream pie, there, shithead. I love you anyway, sissy."

"Love you too, sis...bye."

So Wednesdays are my day off, and of course, I get a terrible cold today. One of the reasons I decided to take one full day off of everything is because I need one day off from everything to AVOID getting sick, but apparently this strategy isn't working.

So I'm struggling to get lunch in with McKenna at school, pick up dictation tapes for that new doc as my third job one day a week, go to an appointment, clean my house and do laundry, and type some transcription today before services tonight...and I'm all cranky with a 100.2 fever.

I call K, MY church secretary, to find out what time the service is.

"K, what times are services today?"

"12 p.m. and 7"

"K, 12's no good, I have lunch with McK at school. I'll be there at 7, with bells on. I have no idea what that expression means, actually, and I better not wear bells, being as it IS lent and I'm supposed to be all..reverent."

"No, bells are more of an "epiphany" thing, you can wear them then."

"Hahaha! Excellent, I'm marking that down on my calendar...'Epiphany...wear exotic bells for no apparent reason."

"I'll call you and remind you to wear them."

So then I'm driving to my appointment, hacking away with a cough, grabbing quickly through a drive-thru, then eating, a Big Mac, dropping the "special sauce" on my jacket and cursing about it, when I come down the hill, around the bend, from the south side of the city.

Ever since I was a kid, this has always astounded me...how this city just suddenly pops up from behind two hills once you round the bend, it literally catches your breath.

Today, however, was particularly awe-inspiring. The moment I rounded the bend, the sun came out, just briefly...after some pretty heavy-duty storms...and a very thick, very large rainbow rounded over the entire city, right over Carew Tower....it was absolutely breathtaking.

I looked at the people in the cars to the left and the right...and we all were smiling at each other and pointing, kind of a "bonding with strangers" moment..."Can you see that? It's beautiful!!!"

I remembered my learned gift over the past few years of finding the slightest bit of joy out of the simplest things in life, which I learned at a time when there was virtually nothing left of my previous life and things in the city in which I lived were literally in tatters. I learned that immediately after Hurricane Ivan, in fact. The slightest thing can make me full of joy, the tiniest kindness from a stranger...you learn to appreciate the small stuff and take time out to admire it. :)

So, methinks...

"Ooops....okay, God, okay....sorry about me getting all wrapped up in my own...crap today. That was a pretty amazing sight, master scientist, thank you...for allowing us all to see that today."

So guess what I'm giving up? Cursing, junk food...AND I'm cutting down on smoking...we'll see if it holds.;)

I didn't have a camera with me, but here's a good stand-in photo for the same effect...actually, I'd have to say the effect of coming around that bend and the rainbow over the entire city was actually better, but the cathedral in another city photo is a cool additive.

Time appropriately taken out, rainbow admired...back to the schedule now, shhh...;)

Coming Soon To A Dinner Table Near You

During my little weekly password/email checks here at the library, I've decided to write some more about the people I've met in my secondary job at a restaurant, because they are decidedly infinitely more interesting than the people in my professional job.

Still writing here now and then is also my little "fuck you" to the boys in the BH (and the women that love them). I'm still here, I'm still writing...despite your bullshit.:)

So here we go, boys....with love...from your favorite "toy."

So I guess I passed my hazing initiation with flying colors because for whatever reason, all is well with the "head cheerleaders," their archnemeses, and everyone in between...like me.:)

Perhaps it was because of the "Insight Into You" break room game I started, or perhaps they had a hormonal upswing fluctuation, who knows, but things are markedly improved around there.

Also, I just found out that I actually....kick ass as a server. I'm not sure why, I used to suck at serving years ago. I think it has something to do with becoming a mother and learning how to multi-task amongst chaos, lol. I'm particularly good when there are children at the table, the kiddies tend to love me.

However, there are still those days...

So after I take the order, which inexplicably takes 10 minutes, the Alpha female at the table whispers that there are two birthdays, could we sing, .and could we create a sampler of some of our appetizers as her entree.

I go to put in my order in the computer. Now, lol, the last thing anyone should've ever done is given me a keyboard for the prep part of ordering, upon which I can type in anything I want on the ticket going to the kitchen.

"Filet mignon, butterflied...medium well...will you go with me? Circle yes or no."

"Add lobster. ..who's your mommy?"

I go to pick up a Cobb salad and reserve it for mealtime, writing my name on a napkin and placing it with the other train of salads with names, which read:

"Katie. Jenny. Matt. Eric. Kill Whitey."

I chuckle to myself as I pick up glasses for iced teas.

"Behind you, with a knife!" .shouts Eric.

"Behind you" is the restaurant way of letting you know not to turn around quickly, to keep you from running into a tray and dropping whatever you or that person is holding, or impaling yourself on the steak knife.

I shout..."I NEED SINGERS, TABLE 43... IN 30!"

"Singers heard!" shouts back Sally, service/window manager tonight.

"Sally, can we make an appetizer sampler for high-maintenaince ho at table 43?"

"Argggh, I guess...okay."

Anthony, the bartender, breezes in for a salad.

"Chrys, ask Garrett about his wild night playing strip poker with some really hot chicks last night."

"Dohkay, since I AM all about hot chicks playing strip poker and all...do I detect a note of sarcasm?"

"Just do it, you'll see."

"Sooo Garrett, what's this about you playing poker with some really hot chicks last night?"

HAHAHAHA!

"Wow. I'm really glad you two are enjoying this, but I still have no idea of what you're talking about...and am not sure I want to."

Garrett pulls out his cell phone. There is a picture of a 300-lb naked woman with something stuffed up her nose and two Bud Light bottles covering where her nipples should be.

"JESUS...I was...totally unprepared for that, I'll have nightmares. Wow, she's pretty sexy, I hope you got lucky."

"I...don't remember...AND...I have no explanation for that."

"Tinyyyyy...order up!"

"Tiny" is my nickname, except when James says it, it comes out "Tinnnnehhhhhhh."

"Thank you."

"Here you go, shithead" says Brent (pimp daddy from the story below).

"Thank you, ball-less wonder. Wait a minute...kay, I'm missing the sampler, and this is a Delmonico instead of a filet. SHIT, I forgot the lobster tail. I NEED A LOB ON THE FLY!"

James shouts, "You fucking idiots, I need a filet on the fly. And Chrystal, there's no such thing as a lob on the fly, it takes 15 minutes, lol. And what the hell, a sampler???"

"Oooopppps...sorrrryyyy....but I love you, madly? Sally, what about the sampler?"

"Oops, sorrrrrryyy...I'll get on the sampler" Sally grins sheepishly.

"It's cool, I'll stall and say it's because the ribeye is well done."

I turn to see Sally flapping her arms wildly like a chicken. She is speaking to the appetizer chef, Geraldo, who speaks virtually no English.

Sally: "No no...two PLATES of wings, two wings on the PLATE. Ya know...pollo (flaps her arms). DOS POLLO! On the plate."

Geraldo: "Ches, chicken have two wings...on plates."

Sally: "Oh Sweet Jesus, Ricardo? Please make him understand?"

I am now...doubled over laughing, though I will now receive a 5% tip, if that.

"Where the hell are those Delmonicos for 47? Sally...I...need a minute to smoke, this is chaotic"... says hot (and hotheaded) new bar manager, helping out in the kitchen.

Sally and I simultaneously look at each other and raise an eyebrow...MEN. They can't handle this kind of stress; as I said, we mothers are used to chaos and multitasking and it's no big deal.

"NO, GERALDO....TWO WINGS ON THE PLATE, NOT TWO PLATES OF WINGS!!! OMG, Chrystal...he's going to punch me, right in my face, and I don't blame him.

I am now peeing myself with laughter at this display.

"Chrystal, I'm not leaving this kitchen to that table to apologize until I have a lob, a filet, and the sampler" Sally says, grabbing onto the metal bar at the counter.

"Me neither. Let's chain ourselves in solidarity...(sings)... We Shall Overrrcomme."

"Tinehhh.....order UPPPP!"

Out we go, Sally kisses their asses.

Ten minutes later, it's birthday showtime, but everyone is too busy to sing.

"Sally, I'm trying to salvage any sort of tip whatsoever from this table and everyone's too busy to sing and there are two birthdays, can we NOT ruin these people's birthdays?"

"I NEED SINGERS TO TABLE 43 RIGHT NOW OR THERE'S EXTRA SIDEWORK AND I'LL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP...GO...NOW!"

So now fourteen singers, Sally, and myself approach the table, clapping.

"Ladies and gentlemen...may I have your attention please. Though Pam and Rick's friends and family would never even think of embarrassing them for their birthdays, their friends and family here at ____ have...absolutely no problem with that whatsoever. Please join me in singing the ____ birthday song."

And that three-ring circus would end up leaving me with?

Big smiles, no idea of what went into their meal (or what was initially omitted) and?

A $50 tip, thank you....:)

all's well that ends well.:)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As always, I'm posting/visiting nowhere else but here, so if you receive emails, visits, comments, or anything else that appears to be associated with me, my name, or picture (and you don't know me in real life to call me and verify or view my computer emails/visit history).... it's not me, and it never was...believe that or not...but how could I prove it anyway?

At this point, I pretty much know who was involved. Trying to investigate/figure out who kept doing these things for two years (and why) only became flipped around back on ME into "stalking"...so I would advise anyone else experiencing "issues" with this same group to be very careful.

Gain as much documentation as you can, but be prepared for the same response, if you're dealing with those from that posse.

If you have the money (and want the drama), I would advise letting professionals do your investigation for you....though cyber harrassment/stalking IS very difficult to prove.

Even if you have an IP address, you can't prove it was that person, at that computer, at that very moment...and the BH tend to use dynamic IPs.

So until next time, enjoy your dinners....we always do.:)