Life, Sure as Hell is Not Boring!
As many of you trim your Christmas tree, shop for those last minute presents, and wrap the final presents to place under your Christmas tree, with chestnuts, roasting, on an open fire, and folks dressed up like Eskimos, there are others of us, with a much different life, by choice, by force, by lifestyle, or being driven by something different than the nice, all American dream, dreaming of a white Christmas. Last Friday, I believe as I hit my fifteen minute shopping spree, within a two block or so area, doing record time, and headed for the post office, on Meridian, in downtown, Kalispell, Montana, I mentioned to the bus driver, that my Christmas would be over in 15 minutes, indicating to him, that once the presents are in the mail, I am on to the next phase of my life, and that is ringing in the new year, which, at this time in the old year, I am ready to set those new goals, climb those new mountains, and search for meaning, in this often mean and cruel world of ours, looking for light, love, peace, kindness, hope, and a sense of purpose, that rarely evades me.
Shortly after a happy thought, that Christmas has been accomplished one more year, not being one for all the drama, pomp and ceremonies, that most live for at this time of the year, mentioning to a fellow passenger on the bus, that I have a world to save, and I don't have time for Christmas, not to be mistaken, that I don't have time for Christ, per se, for that is far from the truth, and distinguishing Christmas from Christ, tinsel from trust, in his earthly mission, and belief in his eternal salvation . . . very different, in deed, from ribbons and bows, and the sentimentality of Christmas. Just as patriotism, is not flag waving, but a life long commitment to the basic principles and concepts of freedom and liberty, rights and protections, Christianity, is a life long commitment to discipleship, and dedication to a Christian life, with Jesus as our exemplar, as he says, Come follow me . . . as we take up our cross and follow him, his ways, and learn his thoughts, and his ways are not our ways, I am more and more convinced each passing day . . .
Lunch at the Granite Peak Grill, Then Hit the Shuttle to Las Vegas
Generally, I am a very decisive person, with goals, mile posts, and signs to indicate, I am moving in the direction, with my task oriented mindset, in sight, and each step of the way is in furtherance of that destination. However, for the last two and a half years, since getting my planned life, as an attorney, grandmother, etec., with two homes, yanked out from under my feet, leaving me reeling, and free falling for the last, almost three years, I have been less decisive, that in years gone by, so it was in that state that I left, Montana, just days after taking the shuttle from Missoula, to Kalispell, to check on renting a room at a resort, motel, Beest Western Inn & RV Park, in Columbia Falls, finding out that I needed to be on a waiting list for the size room I wanted, rather than pay another $200 per month, for a room, with a kitchenette, that I was sure, having eaten out for the last 20 years, that I would neither use, shop for, nor cook in, and the money would be better spent in entertainment or travel, as is usually the case, with this wandering gypsy of a soul.
My cousin, my exact age, and close all of our lives, had been wanting me to come live in Las Vegas, set up shop together, and work on some of our common goals, dancing, fun, more money than we currently have, and pursuing the opposite sex, which, won out over even seeing me this time. I thought, I am going to give this thing just one more chance, thinking about even sitting for the Nevada bar exam, making my legal existence in the state, a reality, rather than applying for a pro hoc vita, or approval from the bar, and sponsorship by a licensed attorney, in the state. So, I thought, after three years, of licking my wounds from Utah, healing a bit, with the help of the state of Montana, I was ready to put the boxing gloves back on and venture into the animal world of practicing law in Vegas, where I already had a name, not face, recognition, for my work with Thomas G. Vail, suing the Las Vegas Review Journal, state of Nevada, those connected with the licensing, investigations, and prosecutions of securities and insurance in the state, Pioneer Insurance, taking the Insurance commissioner out, after one conversation with the now, legal counsel of the Governor Sandavol, all until, the CIA, had lunch with my client, had a double step in and seal the deal on all my work, and cut me out of the deal, the money, all done by e-filing and phone calls.
So, my interests were switching from Montana, where I have tried to serve, help when needed, explore, live and breath, the mountains for a while, not to mention getting colder and colder by the day, with the heat of Las Vegas, at least calling me for about 6 months, and go for all the gusto, hitting this old/new adventure right in the heart, and give it my all, wanting to never regret, that I didn't take advantage of any gift horse looking me in the mouth. My, my, how quick, a man's interest's shift, with a new lover in his life . . . let me put it this way, the penis won, I never even saw him in the almost 36 hours I was in the state, the writing was on the wall, when he didn't jump at the opportunity, most of which, I had balked at, taking the bar exam and all, and was willing to forgo, love of my own, in Montana, not a sure thing, by any stretch, but definitely willing to watch, work, and go for that, if nothing worked on the passion and rive, the ambitious side of my interests . . . let's put it this way, I was willing to reinvent myself, and go for broke, rocking Vegas for real, in my person, this time!
And that change may have thrown, water, on my fire . . . cousin, is wrapped up in the family conspiracy to make baby sis, me, or friends, the flavor of the day, and with me, getting my guns back, plans were not going to work, to control me, cuz is a control freak--and his job is to control me, note my movements, and alert the family mafia, when things get out of control, don't go as planned, or my plans change, long been so, but, with me, you are innocent, until proven guilty, even though, I knew the eventual outcome of my trust, would be betrayal, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt; and, as in every venture I go into, all balz out, and I am all about business, a workaholic, once that side of me kicks in, and it was coming . . . like a hurricane! Edward, disappeared for at least 24 hours, with no contact, getting instructions from the big boys, Uncle Dick and his father, my dad's closest ally all his life, with a law degree himself, just not accredited, but a smart man, much, more thoughtful and patient than my father, a strategist, with family honor, name, my money, and reputations, plus liberty interests at stake for the whole Southwick crew, who are involved, eyeball deep in this huge heist, that would amount to about a billion dollars, given my son's music, and all my legal ventures, cases, manuals, legislation, this blog, etc., a coup de ta if you will.
You would think, after writing emails, inviting me down, even getting furniture, to make the bachelor's pad, more hostistible, even with a new girlfriend, unless the profit motive working with me, was nullified by the added incentive, to turn on a cousin, whom had shared so much with, from our early years, to college, and after, up to and including escapades in the single and dancing scene in Nevada. I had always, been a top priority for Edward, but that was clearly not the case this time. In his favor, I just dropped in, but, I had always dropped in, knowing that the most dangerous time for me, is when I am in route somewhere, and can disappear wtiout out a trace, so not notifiying anyone of my travel plans, and just showing up, so that a cell phone alert is not given my enemies a heads up, that the timing for a hit, disappearance or detention of some sort, would be most easily accomplished, without friends, family, or acquaintances, present. So, showing up on a door stop is nothing new, but his reaction has been, the last two times, I have come, in fact, that invitations seem to be due to some sort of trap, or way to occupy my time, diverting my attention from plans, to fun, or wiine tasting, or other interests, that are mere time fillers. The marked, quick trip to Beaver Dam, or rather to meeting with the masterminds of this family steal, cover-up, and theft of identity.
My cousin, my exact age, and close all of our lives, had been wanting me to come live in Las Vegas, set up shop together, and work on some of our common goals, dancing, fun, more money than we currently have, and pursuing the opposite sex, which, won out over even seeing me this time. I thought, I am going to give this thing just one more chance, thinking about even sitting for the Nevada bar exam, making my legal existence in the state, a reality, rather than applying for a pro hoc vita, or approval from the bar, and sponsorship by a licensed attorney, in the state. So, I thought, after three years, of licking my wounds from Utah, healing a bit, with the help of the state of Montana, I was ready to put the boxing gloves back on and venture into the animal world of practicing law in Vegas, where I already had a name, not face, recognition, for my work with Thomas G. Vail, suing the Las Vegas Review Journal, state of Nevada, those connected with the licensing, investigations, and prosecutions of securities and insurance in the state, Pioneer Insurance, taking the Insurance commissioner out, after one conversation with the now, legal counsel of the Governor Sandavol, all until, the CIA, had lunch with my client, had a double step in and seal the deal on all my work, and cut me out of the deal, the money, all done by e-filing and phone calls.
So, my interests were switching from Montana, where I have tried to serve, help when needed, explore, live and breath, the mountains for a while, not to mention getting colder and colder by the day, with the heat of Las Vegas, at least calling me for about 6 months, and go for all the gusto, hitting this old/new adventure right in the heart, and give it my all, wanting to never regret, that I didn't take advantage of any gift horse looking me in the mouth. My, my, how quick, a man's interest's shift, with a new lover in his life . . . let me put it this way, the penis won, I never even saw him in the almost 36 hours I was in the state, the writing was on the wall, when he didn't jump at the opportunity, most of which, I had balked at, taking the bar exam and all, and was willing to forgo, love of my own, in Montana, not a sure thing, by any stretch, but definitely willing to watch, work, and go for that, if nothing worked on the passion and rive, the ambitious side of my interests . . . let's put it this way, I was willing to reinvent myself, and go for broke, rocking Vegas for real, in my person, this time!
A Clear Crossing of the Line, From a Maybe to a Foe
And that change may have thrown, water, on my fire . . . cousin, is wrapped up in the family conspiracy to make baby sis, me, or friends, the flavor of the day, and with me, getting my guns back, plans were not going to work, to control me, cuz is a control freak--and his job is to control me, note my movements, and alert the family mafia, when things get out of control, don't go as planned, or my plans change, long been so, but, with me, you are innocent, until proven guilty, even though, I knew the eventual outcome of my trust, would be betrayal, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt; and, as in every venture I go into, all balz out, and I am all about business, a workaholic, once that side of me kicks in, and it was coming . . . like a hurricane! Edward, disappeared for at least 24 hours, with no contact, getting instructions from the big boys, Uncle Dick and his father, my dad's closest ally all his life, with a law degree himself, just not accredited, but a smart man, much, more thoughtful and patient than my father, a strategist, with family honor, name, my money, and reputations, plus liberty interests at stake for the whole Southwick crew, who are involved, eyeball deep in this huge heist, that would amount to about a billion dollars, given my son's music, and all my legal ventures, cases, manuals, legislation, this blog, etc., a coup de ta if you will.
You would think, after writing emails, inviting me down, even getting furniture, to make the bachelor's pad, more hostistible, even with a new girlfriend, unless the profit motive working with me, was nullified by the added incentive, to turn on a cousin, whom had shared so much with, from our early years, to college, and after, up to and including escapades in the single and dancing scene in Nevada. I had always, been a top priority for Edward, but that was clearly not the case this time. In his favor, I just dropped in, but, I had always dropped in, knowing that the most dangerous time for me, is when I am in route somewhere, and can disappear wtiout out a trace, so not notifiying anyone of my travel plans, and just showing up, so that a cell phone alert is not given my enemies a heads up, that the timing for a hit, disappearance or detention of some sort, would be most easily accomplished, without friends, family, or acquaintances, present. So, showing up on a door stop is nothing new, but his reaction has been, the last two times, I have come, in fact, that invitations seem to be due to some sort of trap, or way to occupy my time, diverting my attention from plans, to fun, or wiine tasting, or other interests, that are mere time fillers. The marked, quick trip to Beaver Dam, or rather to meeting with the masterminds of this family steal, cover-up, and theft of identity.
Suspicious Black Man with the $300 Pair of Shoes
So, I am sitting at the bus terminal, just waiting for Edward to call me, so we can get on with the new business venture, we were embarking on, or I thought we were . . . and this black, middle to old age man, came up out of the blue and sat on the back bench of the waiting room, with more than ample seats, elsewhere, so that seemed a bit odd to start with. So, soon, I got up and hit the restrooms, giving me a nice excuse to change locations, further from this suspect of being up to no good. After waiting for a phone call for about three hours, with this guy periodically looking at me, or basically, looking at me through, what was suppose to be closed eyelids, and after I helped an older Hispanic woman deal with a missed bus, and frustrated travel plans, I, just up, grabbed my shit, and booked it out of the terminal, for food, and a better night in the casino. I didn't notice, that this man, had followed me out, probably being taken by surprise, that I just up and walked out.
Hustled away, actually wanting to ditch any thought of him doing what I thought he was waiting for me to fall asleep, to do. And as I walked past the front of the bus terminal, on Main street, crossed the street, to the Plaza Casino, and one of my favorite pizza places, in the casino, that I always frequent, when dealing with bus travel or waiting for Edward to come pick me, up, which is generally as soon as he hears I am in town, not 36 hours or never later, but just as I grabbed, the door, opening it to walk inside the casino, this same black man, with the $300 pair of boots, and rather nice, but trying to be homeless or a bus traveler guy, tries to get my attention, with a question . . . so the three hours or more in the bus terminal, was just not enough time to ask me some fucking question, not buying it . . . but he said, are you from in town? Do ya think? If I was from in town, I wouldn't be sitting their for hours waiting for someone to pick me up! Luckily, for me, I just quickly dismissed his attempt to get me to stay outside the casino, and talk to him!
I didn't even miss a beat, flung the door open, dismissed his stupid means of trying to stop my entrance into a new place with tons of witnesses, to his antics! Hit averted, once again, those shoes, just too damn nice, inaction for hours, and jumping on me the second I bolt for the door, actually chasing me, for I don't think he thought I was gone from the building, was bit too much and over the top, for me to believe he hadn't been hired to do whatever, some type of hit. After a 2:00 a.m., pizza dinner, and a security guard, that told me I couldn't sit, and enjoy the dinner I just bought, because the restaurant, was now closed, most likely on the payroll too, driving me back out on the streets, maybe to the waiting black man, whom I ditched not 15 or 20 minutes earlier . . . I told the security guard if he paid for half of a very expensive piece of pizza, I would leave. He said, now that is funny! Not to me, it was not, so I took my time and finished my meal! Slept at the bus terminal, waiting for a call from you know who, looking stranger and stranger by the minute, and wondering if he, cuz, was the agent to hire the black dude?
Team A and Team B Assassins at the Plaza Center Stage & Band?
Okay, I am giving up hope on Edward, this is so totally out of line for someone, who invited you down, not just right now, but since August . . . perhaps for exactly what was happening, appearing to be, not just one assassin possibility, but many, as the football games, dinner and dancing wore on to the wee hours of the night. I am not one to sit around and wait for fucking anyone, a date, a husband, a boss, a cousin, I like to have fun, and that was exactly what I intended to do, stuck in a dumb ass situation, through no fault of my own. I love football, and basketball, and there were tournaments at the MGM grand, with college teams from all over, there was also a bowl game going on, with the University of Utah, playing Colorado State University, or some school, and I sat near a sports bar, and watched that game. Having taught family law at the U of U, for about 7 years, I have some loyalty, and dig watching them play, while not as interested as I would have been had they played BYU, as in-state rivalry, that is long gone until 2016, with U of U and BYU being in different leagues now, so the yearly game is off, too bad. But it was fun to see all the U fans walking around the Golden Nugget and the Plaza.
Me and all the boys at the gambling sports area of the Plaza, were cheering for our favorite teams, once the bolw game was over, at least for this fan. But there was a nice lounge area, with a stage for a band, nice red leather couches, and nobody around, so I ventured into that area of the club, to watch sports, alone without the gamblers, who were also, obnoxious, drinking and loud, plus, bad mouthing women who were carrying their babies! I was actually disgusted and wanted them to know, I didn't approve of their disparaging remarks! But the new place was so much better, and nobody seemed to notice me, for hours, that is until I fell asleep, watching a game, before the BYU, Stanford game, with several men, stopping to say they were concerned about me, probably thinking I was lying, that I liked sports, just didn't care much for teams I didn't have any connection for, and that I intended to go, get pizza, then watch the later game. He pointed out a sing, that said, the tables were reserved for someone who purchased a drink from the bar. I told him that I didn't drink, nor gamble, but I did intend on dinner and watching the game. He asked me if I was staying in the hotel, and I said no, do I have to? Which, he knew probably a small percentage of the people in the casino, were actual guests of the hotel . . . he didn't go there.
Chicken Wings, Pizza & Diet Coke or Pepsi . . . and the Place All to Myself!
Another guy on the payroll of my trackers and harassers . . . they hate that I have fun wherever, whenever, want doing whatever, so their job is to try to fuck everything up, even when I am the only one holding down the fort for at least four hours before the band, for god-sake, they should be paying me to make it look busy! BYU beat Stanford by 2 points, 79 to 77, as I recall, for those of you, who doubt my whereabouts, thinking me to be the fake JoAnn, no, it is really me, as disappointing as that is to the male breed, who would rather have their asses kicked by a that mean flight attendant of a sister, than a smart, bad ass con law chick, who has eluded them, their goons, their hit men and women, and all for three years, or more! Fuck you dumb asses. And this night, gave me another opportunity, to show off my hit man, radar detecting skills.
Hit Man # 1 . . . the Maintenance, Set-up Guy for the Band, Carrying a Clipboard
Not, unlike the black dude, this guy was non-stop watching me, from every angle, even hours before the band was on. And he wasn't shy about his presence, nor his stares. I would find him lurking behind, slot machines, standing on one side of the little lounge or the other. And when I made him fully aware, that I was well aware of his sorry ass, watching me, every second, as if to note and mark the ghost, me who has fended off hits, encounters, arrests, plots, ploys, traps, and whatever for years, to the consternation of my enemies, many of whom are government connected, for they see their assignment as a Call to Duty.
I only have 10 minutes left to write, on this computer at the Butte Library, since my computer is toast as of three weeks ago, and I am just barely getting access to write a full blog, as of the last two entries, but I will make a long story short. This guy appeared to not wanting to let me out of his sight. As the night wore on, not only did the clipboard guy seemed bugged that I kept attracting other patrons, because I was up dancing, when there was no dance floor, just digging on the music, with others joining me in the fun, but the band, seemed irritated . . . when people operate against their own interests, there is something else going on, and there was. there was one very sexy song, that I started to act out, some of the lyrics, and now that I think about it, they were adding lyrics, but, hell, I was having a great time. But as I pointed to the guys in the band, their eyes, seemed to go down to the ground, as if not to connect with me, and if you were part of a hit, or a special op, especially, maybe involving a hit, you sure as hell would not want to make eye contact, let alone playing sexual games eye contact, which is exactly why I did it.
Hit Man # 2, Joined the Last Song . . . Last Song 1:00 p.m., Early for a Casino?
I ditched to the ladies room, but put on my coat first, that I don't think they knew I had with me . . . small changes make all the difference, but after I came out of the restroom, the clipboard guy, just barely missed me, and I saw a sign that said, Right now . . . I took that as get the hell out, and just as I picked up the speed, the last minute dancer, searching for me, very apparent, got out alive, back to bus.
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