Lucky

luckyHappy St. Patrick’s Day out there!  I had my celebration over the last two nights with my brother as I made a delicious (I must say) corned beef dinner in the crock pot.  We shared it two nights in a row and watched our favorite TV show “Chopped” and also saw Birdman (which I thought was brilliant and want to see it again) and Sleepless in Seattle.

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My Dad is gone for a couple of months so I’ve been spending more time with Alfonse, going out to eat and a movie (we saw Into the Woods which was stellar!), and basically just hanging out.  He has been doing well for the most part and busy with his various activities at his mental health center, his personal trainer, the Chorus and now he’s been assigned a counselor from a local University who he really likes.

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I’ve not been working on the book because I’ve been busy with other things and my writing has been primarily on the end of the Jodi Arias fiasco trial.  If you haven’t and want to check out any of my posts about the Juror 17 scandal there are are few on the other blog www.twoinnocents.com.

I’m getting my ducks in a row to head out to PA to spend two weeks with my love, writing and hanging out together (and getting a marriage license for our upcoming wedding–not this trip though).  Very exciting!

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I had to go to the Courthouse Public Records division to unearth a copy of my prehistoric divorce decree from almost 2 decades ago.  Since it required a full on archeological dig, I had to go back twice to pick up the papers.

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Picture this:  a busy government office where you pull a number and look up your case (if you’re lucky to get one of the computer terminals that someone else isn’t monopolizing or doesn’t have an Out of Order sign on it) then wait for the half hour or whatever listening for numbers to be called.

They had a system that jumped from letters M – R as far as I could tell like M114 and P479.  I pulled R444 the first time I went and I only remember this as the system called me to a window and an older lady was already sitting there.  My number was flashing over her window but she already had someone there who showed her number which was R442 so I knew she was ahead of me.  I said that (“she’s ahead of me so I’ll wait”) and the worker said “just have a seat in that chair and I”ll get to you next”.  I struck up a conversation with the nice lady waiting who was also getting her divorce papers but hers were from 1983.  They also required a Fred Flintstone intervention and we laughed about that.  She was getting hers to prove something related to her current spouse’s social security benefits.  Such entirely different reasons to be there.

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It was going to take about an hour so I elected to split and come back later in the week which I did.  Lo and behold, in this busy office with many people seeking passports, marriage licenses and other records, I went up to the number generating machine and pulled…you guessed it…R444 AGAIN.

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(you know I love my signs)

I literally turned around and flashed my number to the various people sitting there sharing “OMG I got this exact number last time I was here!”.  I couldn’t hold it in.

My papers were waiting for me so it was lickety split I was out of there and what a weird walk down memory lane seeing bills we had and things we split up and how we did it.  I barely remembered that other life.  I’m so grateful it was amicable.

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I’m equally grateful that my fiance John’s divorce was amicable as well.  I’m not walking in to a mine field.  They have a young daughter so have to negotiate that of course and it’s so easy compared to other situations I’ve either been involved with or witnessed.  He’s an easy going guy so it fits…still what a relief.

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So now my dress is being made, our wedding arrangements are set, our mini honeymoon plans are made (super psyched–simple but fun) and our custom made rings are in progress.  It’s very exciting!

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I’ll pick up writing the book some this weekend as I head to Sedona with Alfonse for a long weekend (I left all those records up there) and then intensely over those two weeks in PA.  What a wonderful thing to be marrying a fellow writer.  We will write side by side in his cozy rural home.

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I told him I have two goals–cooking and writing.  I want to show off my home cooking for him and that is a nice way to be creative for me.  I can’t wait.  I love him so much.

That’s it for now.  Just a little catch up.

Hope you all out there feel as lucky as I do today.

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quick follow up – signs

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I spent 3 hours this morning diving in to my past and in to the present with thoughts of the death penalty here in Arizona, my sister’s homicide and the Jodi Arias trial.

John, my fiance and I are attending the Sedona Film Festival right now and have signed up for so many films we don’t really keep track day to day of what we see.

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Imagine my surprise shock when we walked in to our double feature today with the theme not just around prison/prisoners but about Death Row and the Arizona State Prison specifically.

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The first film we saw was a short film, very well done, about a condemned inmate’s last meal.  It was called Meat and Potatoes (linked there) and I have to say, although done with a compassionate spirit about a death row inmate being served his last meal, it truly touched my heart.

The second longer documentary was A Place to Stand (linked there) about Jimmy Santiago Baca and his journey to poetry through, you guessed it, his time served in the AZ State Prison.  There were scenes and descriptions of Cell Block 6 there which is literally the first cell block where Cindy’s  killers were incarcerated in 1990.  Talk about surreal.

John kept holding me tight and squeezing my hands whispering “are you ok?” and “do you want to leave?” because of course he knew what I’d been writing about all morning.  One of the many blessings of having a caring loving Psychologist in my life–he’s so supportive.

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I was proud of myself that I was able to appreciate these films with no malice in my heart considering all the other things I was contemplating today.  I truly was able to embrace their themes of healing and compassion.  I do believe that those attitudes are important in this world.  My path related to these issues is a different road, at least right now.  But I’m glad I have a heart of compassion in general that still beats strongly on these subjects so injected deeply in to my own heart.

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I felt a huge weight in my chest, but I stayed through both movies and shared appreciation to the film maker of how they touched me.  All of this, to me, is a sign of my healing and I’m very pleased about that.

But really, talk about signs. Damn, I don’t know that I know totally what that was about but wow, it sure got my attention.

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Disappointed the jury did not reach a verdict today and found I needed a nap this afternoon to kind of process all of these things, including this space of limbo.  And my heart continues to open wide to the Alexanders and all of Travis’ loved ones tonite and will continue sending love and healing until this verdict comes in.

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I love you all out there for reading and sharing.  I feel very connected.

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Day 25 – my valentine arrived

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John got here last night after a bit of unexpected travel turbulence — and that was before he even got on the plane.  He missed his first flight out of Harrisburg due to a mix-up but thankfully they were able to put him on another, better flight that had him with a shorter layover in Charlotte and a half hour earlier to Seattle.

What first looked like a potential disaster became a blessing. Are we surprised?

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I drove over to the cellphone lot (aren’t those great?) at Seatac and he was texting me the whole way.  Once he got his bag and I drove over, he literally couldn’t figure out how to get outside (he was on the upper floor) he was so discombobulated from a day of travel and semi-chaos.  I was in the car at the curb pleading “just walk outside baby…just walk outside!“.  We were laughing so hard in the car.  Something as simple as walking out the door was this last challenge.

I was having a belly pain issue so we came back to the studio then went and took a walk down by the water.  It was great to just out and move in the quiet night.  As we drove through Edmonds, John was falling in love with it every bit as I am.  That was so wonderful to share as this place is so magical for me.  We both agreed we need to find a way to live here some day, at least part time.

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After our walk, we returned to the Studio and popped open the small bottle of champagne that my hosts gifted me on Day 1.  I’d been saving it all these weeks to toast together.  I made one of my famous snack platters with cheese and apples and sushi and of course chocolate for my man and we sat in bed talking and laughing and kissing and eating and toasting and taking a few selfies.

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I don’t look my best because I wasn’t feeling that well all day but this morning I woke up much more alive and radiant–hmmm,wonder why that is. 😉  It’s a thing called L O V E.

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(someone kept telling me to scoot over and give him more space then I saw this–lol)

We’ve decided to take today to just restore and relax in the space.  John went crazy when he saw the view from the patio and also from the studio itself and kept oohing and ahhing and taking pics.  He did his morning meditation in front of the window facing the Sound and probably irreverent of me but I had to snap a pic.

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What a luxury for both of us to take a day to just hang out, relax, eat good food, nap, restore and go where the wind takes us which might be just right here all day which is perfectly fine with me.

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He’s had a majorly active and stressful last few weeks with few breaks so I’m so grateful and happy to see him snug as a bug in a rug like this.

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We are so lucky. So incredibly lucky.  And we keep knowing it every minute.

As I sat to type I looked up and realized Cindy’s memorial service program has been in front of me the entire time I’ve been here — since Day One.  And inside it, are the lyrics of the song that played in the coffee shop day before  yesterday as I completed my 30th chapter.

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Magic is all around me.  I feel complete with the writing for this stage–except blogs of course.  I’m ready to pack up the binders of trial transcripts and files of police reports and luxuriate in this leisure time with my fiance.  I feel like I deserve it and feel really good about what I’ve done here.

More later….I may take a couple days off from blogging, you know, to be in love. As Cindy has reminded me and hopefully you, love is the answer. ❤

Day 23 – twilight visitation

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What would you think if you saw a woman sitting high on a barstool in front of her laptop in a coffee shop, staring out the window up at the sky wearing her headphones and tears streaming down her face, shoulders shaking, sobbing?

I’d probably write a story in my head about that scene.  I wonder if any writers are around me right now.

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I completed my 30th chapter here in the Walnut St. Coffee Shop here in Edmonds.  I’d been wanting to get here for the entire 3 plus weeks I’ve been here but was just sequestered in my cozy nest.  I can kind of see why I waited because it’s way more stim here.

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I decided to write the biggest miracle story I have about my dear brother as it’s committed to memory and I don’t need to dig too hard for it.  Plus it’s a happy story to write in public.

I counted chapters and realized it was a milestone–30!  Yay!

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(thanks Lorna for letting me borrow your cake)

After I finished I decided to change my Pandora station in celebration.  I’ve been listening exclusively to my Pat Metheny/Lyle Mays station for all of my writing and when I say all I mean every last word.  I should owe them some royalties or something because they’ve provided my inspiration, my comfort, my muse.

Music was a big part of my relationship with Cindy so I intentionally have avoided any songs that would take me in to that deep raw space music is so famous for.  I just didn’t want to overload myself with triggers.  She used to tease me saying “KT loves that jazz jazz jazz” whenever she’d come over and I’d have my smooth jazz tunes on.  She’d walk in the door and say in this funny accent “jazz jazz jazz” every time.  She was more of a rock n roll, contemporary top 40 gal.  Well, we were when we were together.  We had lots of soundtracks.

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I closed out my chapter then turned on Todd and landed right in to this song.

I immediately burst in to uncontrollable tears right here in the coffee shop.  I listened to the entire song and just bawled.  I looked up at the sky and said to myself “drink in this moment right now…the whole moment…because Cindy is here right now”.  This song figures prominently in my book and was the one I played at her Memorial service transcribing the lyrics in to the program.

And of course Cindy was 30 when she was killed, a fact I didn’t even consider with my 30 chapter celebration.

Happy tears.  What a celebration.  I’ve wondered why I’ve felt so not alone these three weeks of writing. She’s been with me the whole time.

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Here is a snippet of my chapter and I’m done writing for today.

This time he was missing for about a week when he was found holed up in a cheap motel in Indianapolis.  He spent his 50th birthday in that motel.  He was sick enough to be on his wild ride but thankfully well enough, somewhere inside that fractured brain of his, to reach out to our father.
Dad drove over to pick him up that day and said he was “variable” on the ride back–at times coherent and at times belligerent.  He dropped John off at his apartment then went back to the friend’s home where he was staying.
Bad idea I thought as I was at home, stuck in bed recovering from food poisoning that week.
Within hours John’s neighbor, in possession of my Dad’s phone number, called him to say John was out in the parking lot of the complex yelling and being generally unruly.  Someone, maybe the neighbor, called the cops who arrived before my father and later conveyed that John was taunting them to shoot him.  The fact that they talked my 6 foot 1, 350 pound brother down and took him to the hospital vs doing just that is just one of many miracles that have followed him throughout his life.

My man comes tomorrow so need to get some things done.  What a life I tell you, what an amazing Grace filled life I’m living.

I have no words and for me, that’s saying something.

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Day 20 – mid day

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Wow, I made it to the twenties!  Time has taken on an entirely new meaning with this endeavor–it’s slowed, it’s quickened, it’s stopped.  There is not one thing I’d do differently.  Ok maybe I’d work out more, that is if I was a different person born with that kind of motivation.  😉

I had a really nice evening out last night with my hostess.  We learned we have some uncanny things in common.  Her family history is nearly identical to my love John’s (that he wrote his memoir about) and she’s from the same town where we will be married this Spring…all the way across the country!  Wow.  I love everything about this place and now more to love.

I just finished my first draft of the ending of my book.  I’ve jumped all over the place which has kept me sane. Luckily I have so many stories to jump in and out of for this memoir–childhood, abuse, homicide, mental illness and somehow landing on resiliency and happiness.  Imagine that.  I found myself quoting Webster’s and Rilke and Steel Magnolias in my last words.  I have to say I’m kind of in love with those words and they generated this emotion that I made a meme out of today.  Not using this quote in the book but I found it searching for something else.

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I also wrote about John, my brother, for the first time since I got here.  That part of the book is the least arduous for me so I’ve been saving it for dessert.  But I felt like writing about him this morning so I did.  Here is a snippet:

“The kind stranger who picked him up may not have recognized the degree of his psychosis and gave him a ride to a repair shop.  The woman working there, well, there just isn’t enough to say about this person, this angel.  I don’t even know her name but she’s out there I imagine still performing good deeds.
She helped my very ill brother arrange for the tow of his car, that he had crashed in to a field due to the voices telling him to do so, and it’s repair.  She even helped him contact his insurance company.  Then she went a step further and gave him a ride to a motel where he could settle in and wait for his car.
As she left, something in this angel on Earth got a feeling she should turn back around and check on my brother.  Something about their interaction left her with an uneasy feeling about leaving him there alone and unattended.  At this point, my father and I were still in Maine, checking in with the police daily with no idea where John was, if he was ok, if he was alive.”

Now I’m heading back in to the trial.  I’ve realized I’m missing some important pieces I thought I had like Michael Apelt’s testimony.  It’s ok, I can hunt for it in Cathy’s study when I get back.  I have plenty else to read, trust me.  This is the stack I’m getting ready to dive in to in 3…2…1…

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Hope you are all out having a great Saturday.  I look out at these big grey clouds whisking by over the big Sound out there and feel nothing but grateful…not one thing other than grateful.

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Day 16 -evening

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I woke up late, for me at 8:15 and immediately felt two things:  rested and leaner.  I’d been exploring my food intake and how bloated I was feeling and with the help of my dear fiance, realized I wasn’t eating enough protein.  So I shifted that yesterday, focusing on a more protein diet and spent the night peeing releasing fluid then fell in to a deep deep sleep.  Just for fun I decided to measure my waist as I’d done so last week because I’m getting married and having a dress made and was horrified at what I saw. 

I was totally psyched to see a THREE inch loss on my waist.  How crazy is that?  I’m sticking with protein now for the most part.  Wow.

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I went outside in to the beautiful grey drizzly day and decided to do a little photo treasure hunt on my garden patio.  In all that greyness, the bright life really stood out shining and posing for my camera.  I even found a little heart puddle in front of my door which is what started the whole thing.

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I then sat down to write.  I did a chapter this morning on the theme of my stepmother Marj and something that happened with her, something really blow-your-mind disastrous, after my Grandma’s funeral.  If I hadn’t lived it, I don’t know I’d believe it, it’s that strange.  Here’s a snippet:

I decided to deal with Marj directly, woman to woman, about the ring before I headed back to Arizona the next day.  I decided to leave my Dad out of it and just approach her as an adult with rationality.
I went in to her bedroom and sat down and said “I need to talk to you about something that isn’t going to be easy for either of us”.  I contemplated just grabbing that ring off her hand or from her dresser and running away with it.  Part of me in hindsight wishes I’d done just that.  I did look for it as I sat in the recliner in the bedroom but couldn’t see it.
“Yes” she said while busying herself with putting things away in drawers. 
“We both know that that ring was supposed to go to Cindy.  And since she’s not alive to inherit it, I think we also both know that that ring should go to me.  It was my mother’s engagement ring.  It holds no sentimental value to you and you don’t even plan on keeping it as a ring.  It holds extreme sentimental value to me as you know and I think I should have it.  Everyone knows you had a lifetime of conflict with my Grandma and she would be rolling over in her grave thinking you ended up with that ring.  We both know this.  I think you should do the right thing and not accept it and tell Dad that that ring should go to me as it should”.  To me, this was the easiest approach but Marj never made anything easy for any of us kids.

True to form, she, the innocent bystander in any kinds of dealings where she’d orchestrated the entire thing passive aggressively behind the scenes replied “Well you’ll have to ask ya fahthah about that.  He really wanted me to have it and yes I will make it in to a necklace so I can wear it.  It’s important to him that I have it”.

Yes you have to read the book to find out what happened with my mother’s engagement ring that she intended to dismantle and make in to a necklace for herself.  Trust me, it’s a story worth reading.

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I made my smoothie then fell  hard in to the Jodi Arias trial on twitter.  My favorite witness Dr. Janeen Demarte was on the stand and I needed to see what was going on/participate.  It was very satisfying to watch her kick Jodi Arias ass all over the courtroom while taking her unconscionable defense team with her.  There will be more of her tomorrow and I intend to tune in.  It was time for the tide to turn there and turn it has.

I crashed hard for at least two hours after watching the trial.  Woke up at 4:30, took a shower and knew what I needed to write about next.  I jumped back on my bed and another chapter flew out, also about Marj but more about me and the anxiety problems I recovered from.  Here is a snippet from that chapter:

I drove myself home finally arriving at 3am, beaten and destroyed by this demon called Anxiety that had plagued me for so long.  I left a message with someone at the Florida party house for my father saying I’d had a bad reaction to some kind of medication on the plane and had to fly back home.  It was such a flimsy false explanation but I just couldn’t say the words:  that the panic had won once again.  It was more than I could face.
I fell asleep for a few hours and phoned my therapist early the next morning.  I could barely speak I was so consumed with sobs.  She insisted I come to her home office that afternoon.  I was truly in a moment of this is the last straw and she could hear it.
I spent that hour curled and unintelligible through my deep tears and she literally put me to bed in her guest room for a few hours.  She said she was afraid for me to drive home.  You see when a truly strong person like me crumbles like that, it will get anyone’s attention.  I had no more defenses.  I just knew I couldn’t live like that anymore.
I made one decision that weekend alone steeped in my grief and disappointment as my family partied in Florida.  That was to stop trying to get on planes.  I grounded myself indefinitely.  I decided to stop putting myself through that torture and to stay put or drive if I wanted to go somewhere.

It wasn’t easy to relive that but it’s an important part of my personal story.  And in case you hadn’t noticed, I get on planes whenever I want now.  🙂

I went and reviewed and realized I have 20 chapters now.  Maybe not complete but I have 20 chapters.  In just 15 days of writing.  20 chapters.  And I’ve also been doing tons of reading and research wading through very difficult material.  I’m feeling proud of myself tonite.

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On that note….sweet dreams all….thanks for following along, as always 🙂

Day 15 – evening

Well, I bit the bullet today.  I began writing on a subject that on it’s surface should seem easy to do but for me is really the hardest.

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My memories of my relationship with Cindy.  This chapter traversed so many topics and timelines as it wound in and around itself which is ok with me.  Our relationship was so precious, so bonded, so unique that it would never fall in to some kind of definition.

I’m glad I started on it today and at least opened the door.  It ended up being a very long chapter all in all.

Here are some excerpts:

“My sister is good at everything” she told people throughout our lives.  “If she tries something, she’s going to be good at it”.
This was her explanation of why I struggled so much picking a major in college.  Not that I was failing but that I was just too good at everything so it was hard to land on one thing.  I wish that were true but to have someone perceive you like that is just something irreplacable.  She was incapable of seeing other than the best in me from start to finish.

And:

People often mistook us for twins although Cindy was always long and lean and me shorter and stocky.  She was brunette to my blonde and our faces were really not that similar.  Yet our voices were nearly identical and our mocked expressions were the giveaway.  We created our own little world and relished living in it.  We had our own language, our own symbols, our own private jokes and our own intimacy that no one, almost no one ever penetrated.

And:

There was one road trip to LA where Cindy produced a tape recorder she’d borrowed from her work at the school system office.  She’d brought it home for a project then got a wild hair to bring it on our road trip to visit Buddha in Santa Monica. 
“I have a great idea for our trip” she said with a twinkle in her eye.  “We’re going to interview each other”.
She named this interview show, via cassette tape, “The Dan Rather Show”.
For some reason, she spoke this name in in a semi British pretentious accent so it came out “The Dahn Rahthah Show”.
“Welcome to the Dahn Rahthah Show.  Today’s guest will be….Oprah Winfrey!” and then she would interview me, using that five inch microphone tethered to the bulky cassette player while insisting I stay in character as Oprah Winfrey the whole time. Until she decided she was bored with Oprah and needed a new guest.

And finally:

We made it down to Rocky Point with our bathing suits, sleeping bags, weird snacks and a plan to find people to camp with on the beach but it was just approaching sunset.  And it was packed, everywhere.  We saw a “Se Renta” sign and pulled in to an office begging them for a place to rent with our meager stash of cash.  “Todo esta ocupada” they told us indicating basically No Room at the Inn anywhere.
Cindy begged and begged and finally we were handed the keys to an empty house. When I say empty I mean a completely barren house save two unmade beds, no living room furniture,no electricity but it had running (cold) water.  “We’ll take it!” Cindy said.  It was just one night and if we decided to stay another surely we’ll make friends on the beach and crash at their campsite.  We always stumbled in to good luck like that.

I spent some time on twitter today following the debacle known as the Jodi Arias trial.  It’s almost too disgusting, from a victim standpoint, to watch but I feel obligated to speak out about victim abuse so I keep doing it.  There is a large audience there and I feel outrage is an appropriate response.  My heart is with the Alexander siblings although I can’t be there in person.  I’m always with them in spirit.

I know I picked up quite a few new followers today  who are also following that case.  Welcome aboard.  I generally endeavor to post morning and evening while I’m here in the Northwest on a Sabbatical working on this book.  Thanks for coming along.

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Finally my heart goes out to the Esteban and Corrina Flores family tonight.  They buried their 15 year old son over the weekend and there are just no words for that kind of grief.  They have set up a foundation for donations in his name.  I’m making mine as soon as I sign off of here.

Here is the link to the donation site:  click here.

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there is an blog post I wrote about my involvement in that trial and the similarities between Cindy and Travis here

As I went looking for a photo of Detective Flores, I found this one of me behind Travis’ sister Tanisha on the day of the verdict.  What an incredible flood of emotion hearing those words “GUILTY” ring through that courtroom.

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Day 10 – morning

Greetings from the double digits! It’s a semi cloudy cool day in Edmonds and I woke up rearin to go.  Yesterday was a cloudy drizzling day all throughout and so was my motivation.  I managed to get to the store, take a long shower, shave my legs, do a facial masque, condition my hair, do some laundry and a whole lot of wedding/honeymoon planning.  I did do some reading, completing a long interview with a jail house snitch and another one with Michael Apelt but that was it.

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At the end of the day when the rain hit hard, I made a fire in the fireplace, talked to my man on Facetime and fell asleep watching TV on the couch.  I ended up with a very restful sleep and it’s just what I needed to begin again today.

I’ve decided to go easy on myself with this process.  As I reviewed my day with John yesterday and talked about how I got basically no writing done at all besides one blog post, he reminded me that I’m deep diving in to very difficult material–it’s not just like researching a remote historical event in history–and rest will be important.  So then I gave myself a pat on the back for completing the “extreme self care” part of my plan and all was good.

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There is no accident he felt compelled to propose to me at the time he did.  For one reason, I love planning things so having something as fun and exciting and exhilarating and all other kinds of wonderful adjectives as a wedding and honeymoon to work on is a great respite from the grizzliness of a murder trial.  I’ve found myself kind of focused on that aspect of things because it’s the roll I’m on and I really do need to wade through these thousands of pages so I don’t have to keep carting them around.  I’m in a distilling down mode which is also helping me figure out exactly what’s important in this story to tell (because I think all of it is).

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After all of these years following murder trials (Scott Peterson, Jodi Arias and many others via Court TV but those were the ones I was most active in) I know how true crime junkies think. I know that police reports and interviews and autopsy reports and testimony in their exact form are interesting –not an interpretation of them but their exact form.  So it’s important I edit out just what are the most heavy hitting points and excerpts to focus on.  My pink highlighter is getting a workout.

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Speaking of workout I sit here with my workout clothes on ready to hit the gym because I have energy and frankly, my fiance has this rockin hot body from working out all the time. Although he has made it very clear on every single level that he loves me and is attracted to me exactly as I am (isn’t that nice?), I still want to get myself to a new there.  I don’t know about you but I gotta find my motivation where I can find it.  😀

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that’s him after a hard workout at his home gym

I’m pulling in trial transcripts today and I’ll start some writing…probably at the beginning…did you know these murderers stole the very car they took to the airport to even get to the States?  Nice.  Pre-911 freedom in travel.  They’d never make it here now.

Ok, more later…..Happy Hump Day all!

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Day 9 – morning

I woke up very very early this morning, still in the dark where I sit right now.  I got to thinking about something so thought I would go ahead and write it.

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How ironic that I’m spending these days diving in to my sister’s murder, which occurred 100% because she snuck off and got married to a sociopath who insisted on it’s secrecy and urgency due to his ultimate plan of murdering her for insurance money.  Ironic that at the same time, the very same time, I sit here planning my own elopement.  Unafraid.  Contrasting these things in their seemingly imperfect timing.  Don’t worry, it’s a few months off though.  It may be a small affair but it will be epic.

I read an article on Elephant Journal that I typically love and brought these thoughts even more in to the forefront.  The author talks about the reasons she’s getting married, from a person who had kind of sworn off marriage (in my case, relationships entirely).

Read the article here.

So the thought that came to me this morning, feeling fearless and relaxed and completely confident and unambivalent in my decision (which my dear sister felt none of as evidenced all over her journal and her words to me), is that Cindy’s “marriage” led her to death.   She Mine is leading me to more life.  And that’s basically it.

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John out sledding over the weekend with his darling daughter–and yes he looks young but we are the same age 🙂

I feel more alive with this man and something inside both of us says “get married” and it’s such a clear ringing bell and we feel so liberated to create the unconventional type of marriage that fits us each and together like a glove, we are acting on it.

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he proposed to me moments after this was taken

In style and grace and consciousness and I just couldn’t feel more excited and the calmest I’ve ever felt with a man.  How does one describe or justify that kind of rightness?  You don’t, you just move.  I believe this is where the expression “Follow Your Bliss” was born.  Not everyone is comfortable with it (that’s a very short list for me though). But you don’t care.  You just keep following.

Those are my morning thoughts.  I’m sure Cindy is smiling on us right now with her blessing.  I feel it.

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And now, today, I’m writing.

Day 8 – bedtime

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Today I focused more on the “extreme self care” part of my journey up here than the writing part but I did continue with my dive in to that box of reports and read a really bizarre lengthy one.  It was an interview with a former cellmate of Michael Apelt whom he was attempting to hire to commit a copycat crime so he could be out of jail “in two weeks” thus avoiding a trial and , the most important thing, get “(his) money”.  Disturbing to say the least.

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I woke up early to a gorgeous sky and then found my gym.  A bit of a drive but worth it–had a good workout then session on the hydromassage table. It’s directly adjacent to a large bookstore so I see a combo trip in my future.  I cooked tonite and ate healthy and had a long talk with my man about our wedding and honeymoon which I spent quite a bit of time on this morning.  It was good for my mood.  I’m so lucky to have him in my life, especially at this time.

Shhhh though on the wedding…it’s kind of being kept under wraps for the moment.  We’re basically eloping, in style.  😀

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I ran in to these old newspaper articles while digging.  Tomorrow, I’ll get in to the binders of trial transcripts and continue my outline.  Tomorrow, I devote to writing.  I need to start getting to paper some of the thoughts on all of this research I’ve been doing.  This is going to be quite the process but it’s a good thing I’m on no one’s time frame but my own.

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today’s view from my writing desk

G’nite all.