Let’s Talk About Change

Yep. I need to make some changes in my life.

We all know Shaunda drinks. Cutting back might be a change. We all know Shaunda is a slut. Not filling a void with meaningless sex might be a change. We all know Shaunda likes to take filthy pics or any pics and post them whenever or wherever. I’m pretty sure that will only change by type of pictures.

So, Happy New Year. I have made some decisions about my next year and I want to write about them.

My blog might become less sexual. That’s a goal, not a promise.

I really want to write about transforming my life. I got away from a repressed and abusive relationship. I stayed away. And I explored whatever was out there to have and behold. In all of that? I stayed sober from hard drugs when they were offered. I continued to be a self sustained person. I met wonderful people who will be lifelong friends. I renewed relationships with family and friends from my past. I didn’t just survive, I thrived.

Thriving gives me hope for the coming year.

As a thriver I plan to continue to change. Slow down on the alcohol for sure. I cut off the drive-by sex guys in favour of ones who want to at least spend a bit of time. I got an elliptical machine to help with the weight I have gained. I plan to blog about that process with before, during and after pictures. Just doing it on my own with a poor person budget. I hope it will help others. And I want to reconnect with more people from my past who love and support me as I am and where I am at.

Happy New Year to anyone who reads this. I hope you find ways to thrive.

What Is The Best Compliment You’ve Ever Received?

**Names in this have been slightly changed!!

The best compliment I ever received? Is a story in itself.

When I was a 14 yr old I wasn’t as super cool as I am today. Dumpy, frumpy, nerdy and felt bullied at school.

I took it well and even developed the nickname Shaundiluv.

One day the principal called me to his office and told me they were taking a new girl who was leaving her old school. She had a issues with appearance and was bullied so much at her previous school.

He told me he had spoke to ‘Felix’ (the most popular guy at school) to ask how this girl could transition to our school without suffering the same way. Apparently Felix told him, “Introduce her to Shaunda. She’s the most kind and compassionate person I know.” And then my principal asked if I would be the girl’s friend.

I decided that day to live my life by rule of kindness and compassion. Pretty great compliment.

Second part to the story?

About a year ago I met a new friend and we hang out quite a bit. One day a couple months ago he looked at me and said, “Do you know what I like about you? It doesn’t matter where we are or the situation… everybody leaves interactions with you with a smile on their face. You’re kind to everyone.”

It made me feel like my most important life goal had been achieved. And THAT was actually the best compliment I ever received. ūüôā

Where Imagination Began

My imagination is all my own. I’ve had a wild imagination since childhood. Nowadays? My doctors call it stuff like paranoia. Or say maybe I’m not really seeing things the way they are (delusional).

My imagination? Is like an older sister in a close family. It has been my best friend and my nemesis at the same time.

When I was a young child and was ‘grounded’ to my room until I cleaned it? I imagined I was in a cabin in the woods. Tiny and secluded. Being grounded gave me a desire to be alone and the okay with being alone with my own imagination.

I was grounded a LOT. Not doing homework, not cleaning my room, sneaking to wear make-up or whatever other reason. I spent a lot of time alone with my imagination.

It sometimes feels like my only real ‘socialization’ could have come from the time I was in school? However, I was ‘grounded’ to my desk without breaks for the majority of the time. Not doing my homework mostly. Sometimes for passing notes.

At the most crucial moments I should have been developing social skills to carry me forward in life ? I was continually forced into isolation.

It’s in isolation my imagination took hold of me. I began to write journals and stories. My isolation kept continuing because of my ‘day-dreaming’ and not doing the things I was told. It meant detention at school and grounded at home.

It think that’s when I decided it didn’t matter. In my imagination? It didn’t matter. Wherever I was in reality, or why? I was in a tiny cabin in the woods. Taking care of myself and writing stories.

 

White Male ‘Privilege’?

People are people. Who started anything? Many wars happened before the ones we seem to think are so important. Many countries and nations were conquered before our own country came to be. So many enslaved.
 
People have risen and fell throughout history. Countries and nations conquered and even wiped out.
 
White male privilege is gone. There is no privilege left in being a white male. At least among the ones I know.
 
Maybe in the richest?
 
But the white males I know are hard working men. They can’t find work in their trained industry because Canada isn’t hiring anyone who isn’t a visible minority.
They try to find anything, even below their trained station and they are met with companies only hiring people with visible minority.
 
And then they end up homeless. And because they are white males who should be able to work? They can’t get shelter. They can’t get more than $236 for rent from social assistance.
Can’t get the gov’t to help and ignored for jobs because employers favour minorities.
 
THAT is the plight of the white male who DOESN’T have privilege.

Silence

I’m not trying to be silent. I’m struggling. I’m couch bound, re-watching Grey’s Anatomy for the third time marathon style.

I have ten blogs in draft and more in my head but the thoughts race too fast to make sense.

I’m going through some loss of friend stuff. Some Karma stuff that is good but requires mental processing. Some medical stuff. And, well, depression.

I’ll try to post more soon.

 

The Red Tent

*I’m pagan but grew up submersed in Christianity so the Bible is something I am still curious about but I’m not promoting a belief in it

**Please don’t judge my Netflix choices

The other day I chose to watch a series called The Red Tent. I chose it because the description said it was based on a book loosely based on the story of Dinah from the Old Testament of the Bible.

As a rape victim who was raped each time by known perpetrators I was curious about the story of the rape of Dinah.

Dinah. Genesis 34. Sister to the twelve tribes of Jacob. Whose brothers defended her honour when they believed she was raped.

The Netflix version presented another option to my thought process. Same story from another angle. What if she actually loved the prince and was only going against her fathers faith/tradition? Her brothers thought she was defiled but….

I went back and checked my Bible. I checked KJV and JHV (Jail House Version). I had some kind of Bible study looking the story up and comparing it to the movie/TV story.

Even in the Bible her ‘rapist prince’ comes to the father and tries to amend things. He allows Jacob’s sons to circumcise not only him but all his men to prove his love for her.

While they are in recovery? Jacob’s sons go in and murder her husband and all his men in their sleep and kidnap their sister back. They claim retribution but Jacob says they’ve brought shame.

Why would he feel shame in their actions if there wasn’t more to the story?

I’m not sure why I am even writing about this. I believe the Bible to be literature. Some of it is fairy tales. Some of it poetry. Some of it contains general wisdom.

I guess watching this makes me think about women.

The premise of The Red Tent is about what women learn from each other. It’s about the teachings and sacred things that happened in the outskirts where women were told to call ‘unclean’.

*I find that funny because I call ‘unclean’ and joke about ‘going to a tent’ when I bleed….¬† ¬†is that biblically taught behaviour?

In that sacred place they practice a religion outside of ‘Jacob’s’ faith.¬† I identified with the idea of a woman who came from a religion forced on her and broke free.

I watched it to the end. Biblically based (loosely) but it gave me a different perspective. Maybe a woman’s perspective? I’m not sure. But if you have any Christian inclination? I recommend this!

 

 

 

Everyone Has A Tequila Story

Mine started out innocent. I was having a bad day and a pal convinced me to go to Karaoke Night at Gio’s. (longest running gay bar in North America at the time) My best friend knew I needed a night out. I was reluctant but tagged along.

It started at his friend’s apartment. I was meeting strangers but they all seemed to LOVE me to death. They were drinking champagne and doing shots. Then we left for the club and they ordered pitchers of beer. Sure, I’d take some. Thanks. All of the above.

* side note * I went through a weird phase of being everyone’s favourite fat girl. I was around 300 pounds at the time. I could KINDA hold my alcohol. To a point.

Then we went to Karaoke night at Gio’s.

My gay bestie, Jake, was hosting (My blog about killing Jake) that night. He used all his free drinks to buy me shooters.

Overall? After champagne, shots and pitcher beer? I did nine shots of tequila each followed by a tequila paralyzer.

And that is when she walked in. She looked like a hot mom. Shoulder length blonde hair, so pretty. I looked at her and my friends told me that she was 100% out of my league. I slurred at them they were full of shit.

I walked up to her at the bar and asked if she was with anyone. She said she wasn’t. I said, “You are now.” And I took her back to my table.

Marnie and I talked for an hour or so. we danced for more. When she turned to me, told me my friends were leaving and asked if I had to go? I told her, “Of course not. You’re coming home with me.”

She drove (don’t judge, please, it was more than 20 yrs ago) the few blocks to my place. I learned she was a ‘soccer-mom’ type whose hubby was out of town and she wanted a woman. I was fresh out of Bible College and really wanted every womanly experience I could have.

She was amazing. SO gentle. She had me cumming over and over. I couldn’t wait to go to town on her. Kissing her and tasting my pussy on hers lips made me quiver with excitement.

Maybe quiver too much?

Oh yep. That tequila caught up with me. Just as I got my tongue inside her? I barfed all over her. Repeatedly.

Worse? I found a porno mag, scrawled my phone number in eye liner on some naked woman, tore it out and gave it to her before I passed out.

She never called and I don’t drink tequila anymore. ‘Nuff said.

 

Care Cards

I wonder sometimes where my obsession for sending mail to people by post (that tangible real mail they can touch with my own handwriting) comes from. Why? Why send a card just to say I am thinking of you? No news, just … I thought of you today.

I send them as often as I can to anyone who will give me an address. Why?

Care Cards!

When I was in Bible College we had student mail boxes. Beside them was a rack of blank cards called Care Cards. Did someone help you? Did you think someone gave a great insight in class? Did someone get some sad mail and need a boost?

Care cards were there to send that message. You could sign it or not. If you didn’t really know the person but wanted to send them some love you could look their mailbox number up on the board and just stuff in a care card.

Care cards are the first place I found some real self esteem. I was overweight and not the most outgoing. I stuck to a close group of people who weren’t the cool crowd. Somewhere along the way people started to notice me.

Maybe it was that I smiled at people even if I didn’t talk. It could be my dorm mates just saw me differently after living with me…¬† I’m not sure.

By the time I was done my first year at Briercrest? My entire dorm room was wall papered with Care Cards. With every expression of gratitude for a kindness I never realized I gave and every thought for my well being? I learned people love me for who I am.

Bible College was the first place I never ‘faked it’. Still people cared.

I was so troubled back then. Not even 18 and fresh out of high school.  Homesick. Sexually confused. A bit suicidal.

Every care card got me through another day. The people who sent them to me, anonymous or otherwise, have no idea how they impacted a scared teenage girl.

Pretty sure¬†I just figured out where my penchant for sending postal love comes from ūüėČ

 

 

 

The Things I Believe And Do

I was told what to believe and do for the first half of my life. In those years I rarely challenged those things I was told. I made a few comments, asked a few questions but mostly the things I challenged all happened inside my own mind because I was, well, a child mainly. And also scared. It left me as a very confused young adult.

Now? I meet all kinds of people and work on developing my belief system regularly. I try to be open about it.

I’ve been accused of both doing and believing a lot off things in the past three years.

Some accusations came from the media and those were, just, well, media being media. I suppose. Other accusations were from people I thought were friends, even some family.¬†They decided I was ‘too political’ and/or ‘too different’ for them so they left the friendship behind. Some accusations come from strangers because they read something said about me and formed their opinion based on what they heard. Seems I’m misunderstood about a lot of issues.

More recently there are ‘friends’ who have said things to me, about myself and others,¬†based on world politics. They have made some disparaging remarks based on what they think. Sent me nasty messages because they assume my position on any given subject.

Let me be clear – I don’t care about them attacking – that is not why I am writing this.¬†I’m not feeling bad¬†about online shaming, political or otherwise.

I am not crying for a safe space!

It actually made me think.

There are people who may have read things about me, learned things about my past or for whatever reason have formed their opinion about what I think on political or other socially relevant¬†issues. My own brothers/sister won’t talk to me because they think I am some kind of political dissenter. One brother called me a danger to society and said it was better if my nieces didn’t know me.

I’ve let them all go as they wanted to leave my life. “Don’t want to talk to me? Your issue not mine.” was the attitude. THEY let go, not me.¬† They tossed me away over things they assumed without really knowing what I believe.

When these things are on my mind like they are tonight? I let them ruminate. Sometimes they lead me to a super angry and hurt place. More often it’s a defensive place where I want to tell them all how much they hurt me by simply misunderstanding me.

Right this minute? I’m not interested in ‘defending’ myself. It’s not about feeling oppositional. It’s more about being misunderstood.¬†Then having relationships cut off for something you¬†don’t actually believe.

I have some radical belief situations that cross so many boundaries. I’m going to write out some of my thoughts on them so I can get my real thoughts about them¬†off my chest and then I am letting go of worrying about this.

I tried to write them here but it became too much to include with these thoughts. I’ll cover each subject on it’s own another time

 

Dear Quatloos’ers’

Well, I once again find myself the topic of discussion on your internet forums by people who have no clue about me. I used to find it very disturbing and it made me anxious. Today? I’m laughing a bit.

You were talking about people I truly have no care for. I’ve been known to spew my own hatred of them. But in interest of TRUTH I have to point out a few things.

Firstly, Eric said (referring to Mike Hunt and Kirsten Shaw), “As Burnaby had mentioned, Mike Hunt was involved in the Grand Prairie incident.”

Wrong. Mike knew people involved in that scheme but was not involved as either a buyer or seller. He just knew people who bought into it. It’s like saying Eric stole something and Burnaby 49 is also involved because you both talk on this forum.

Secondly, Eric said, “The best that I can tell is that Mike Hunt after the debacle decamped Alberta for Qualicum. Sometime along the way, during the summer, Paul Fiola’s wife went there as well and was eventually joined by Paul when he got out of jail. If you grovel through Shanda’s blog (btw, NSFW) it seems that Hunt was ripping off the campers, at least in their opinion.”  (LOL NSFW, dirty bird read more than one post I see)

The ‘best you can tell’ is so inaccurate. Mike left AB for his own reasons, unrelated to the GP situation. I stayed in Alberta and went the distance in the court system. Paul stayed in Alberta with me under house arrest. Neither of us fled because we believed we were right. I defended myself without a lawyer, not because I am FMOTL but because my lawyer bailed last minute. He bailed when I couldn’t pay him because I am on disability. He left me hanging, two days before trial, to face court alone without any knowledge of the legal system.

After I finished with court, Paul left Alberta with me because I wanted all this behind me. In the year he was waiting for me to finish in court? RCMP and the Justice and Solicitor General for Fish and Wildlife visited our home and Paul was never arrested again. He was never hiding from them.

We came to BC together.And it wasn’t to Mike Hunt’s place. We came without knowing he was here and only reconnected on Facebook because we had both joined the same local group online.

I NEVER lived there. I have always found my place and paid rent for it. I would never live with Mike and Kirsten. I would go homeless before that!

Third? “it was nice to have a major chunk of the Canadian Fmotl all in one easy to access spot”

Eric, no one there is FMOTL. THAT is the funniest part. Mike Hunt doesn’t identify with any particular group. Kirsten believes in aliens and thinks she is a Nephilim. They aren’t Freemen,  just crazy.

The others who have come there or found there way there went because they had no where else to go.  Maybe Dean Kory is FMOTL, I don’t know him personally so I won’t say (unlike you, casting disparaging comments without having met him).

Mike makes promises of community but then fleeces everyone of what they can offer without giving back. Others have come and gone from there. Dean was just the most vocal online.

Burnaby 49 said, “I have to admit I dropped the ball on Dean. Everything seemed so idyllic in his hobo heaven that I stopped actively checking up on his postings.”

Is that what you spend your time doing? Following up on perceived freemen from all across Canada just to bash them online thinking you have any truth to your statements? Your accusations are based on things you read on the internet. You can’t tell me you are so gullible you think everyone types the truth on Facebook.

Burnaby, you’ve accused Paul Fiola of being FMOTL but truthfully you have very little knowledge of him either. You base your ‘truth’ on your online intel. FMOTL don’t have SIN’s, don’t file taxes, don’t have medical coverage, etc. But Paul works under a SIN, files taxes, has a driver’s license. ONLINE, he questions his government and makes grandiose statements about law and freedom. You are judging his online persona. That makes you a fool.

Lastly, when it comes down to it? You are all foolish, short-sighted and thick-headed when it comes to legal/lawful issues. You would rather banter about accusations and biased rhetoric unfounded in facts. And all your ‘intel’ is found online. Which means you believe everything you read on the internet. Which makes you more simple-minded than my six year old niece who at least has the common sense to make a squinchy face and say, “That doesn’t seem right. Can we look it up more?”

Sincerely,

Shaunda