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 15 – morning

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Happy Monday!

I’m sitting here looking out at a very grey day over the Sound, with a candle lit, a fresh cup of coffee and a perfect song on my Pandora.

Let’s see if I can share it with you.

I didn’t find the exact song but found this instead. Boy just watching his face and his deep focus.  Brilliant.  This song shares the mood of today…

I almost exclusively listen to my Pat Metheny/Lyle Mays Pandora station when I write.  I’ve tried others, and sometimes switch to Spa Suite but I always return to this one.  It has just the mood that works for me.

I spent much of yesterday wading through an extremely bizarre deposition with a woman who was married to a Homicide detective assigned early on to Cindy’s murder.

There are so many freakish twists and turns in the case but I have to say this one takes the cake.  First off, since Cindy’s body was discovered in Pinal County, they started the homicide investigation. But the case began in Maricopa County, where she lived (Mesa) so they had initiated the Missing Person’s end of it.  Mesa PD is MUCH larger and better funded/staffed so it was quickly tossed to them to handle the whole thing.  Mark Jones of the Mesa PD orchestrated the arrests but Chris Wesbrock of Pinal was interviewing Rudi when he was arrested.  It was a bit chaotic and confusing with egos bumping in to one another I’m told.

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The deposition I dove in to yesterday was with Janet Wesbrock–the wife of Chris.  The only reason I brought this 200+ page document with me was because Cathy Hughes said something like “oh you have to read that one” as we were going through the voluminous boxes in her study.  She sighed remembering how difficult this witness was for her to deal with.

Chris and Janet Wesbrock met on a homicide investigation–her husband’s.  Her husband’s murder that was never solved.

They later married and this is where things get really freaky.  Det. Wesbrock, in attempting to make disposition of their informant granted immunity, Anke Dorn, decided it was a good idea to LET HER STAY IN THEIR HOME.  He brought this woman, an accomplice to a vicious homicide, who he KNEW had been at the scene when Cindy was stabbed repeatedly, who he KNEW had helped cover it up extensively, in to his home with his wife who was a homicide victim’s surviving spouse and their young children.

Yes I can feel you doing this:

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The behavior got even weirder with strange gifts given Anke, Janet turning on Cathy Hughes viciously attacking her in her journal which she herself turned over to the Judge and Janet bonding with Anke, a likely conspirator in a homicide.

How weird is all of that?

Her deposition is hostile and just a downright freak show.  I wrote a chapter about it yesterday and here are some excerpts from the depo I didn’t include–there was just SO MUCH:

After going at length indicating she was fearful of Anke in her home, on page 47 this happens:

CH:  Well, did you attend the preliminary hearing when it concluded on January 17, 1988?

JW:  That’s correct.

CH:  And on that particular day, in fact, you sat in the courtroom while Anke Dorn testified, is that right?

JW:  That is correct.

CH: And did you do that because you wanted to offer some sort of comfort or friendship to her in the courtroom?

JW: That’s correct

And later, after admitting she’d taken Anke on a little outing to a lake with her children, AFTER Anke had been removed from her home:

CH:  And is there anyone who has forced you, in any respect, to maintain contact with her?

JW:  No one; but — a sympathetic thing.  She had indicated to me on several occasions , even while she was in my home, that she would take her life.  And I felt as one human being to another under a very stressful situation, that I owed the human kindness to at least listen to someone in an extremely stressful situation.

Janet Wesbrock maintained that she never spoke with Anke about the case as she was instructed but her own journal indicated she maintained weeks if not months of contact with her.  She visited her repeatedly for coffee, talked on phone extensively including doing so as “spies” fearing the phone was bugged and Janet wrote extensively about the brothers and the case in her journal.  Information she’d not have known if not talking to Anke about it.  She also trashed Cathy Hughes to high heaven which will never ingratiate her in to my respect.

Shame-on-you-GIFS

I should bond with a murder victim’s surviving spouse but in this case no thank you.

I got curious about Janet after reading so much about her and found a Facebook page with no picture (I just wanted to put a face to her nutty ramblings) yet I found one curious thing even without friending her.

Of the businesses she “likes” on Facebook is an obscure German restaurant in downtown Mesa.  The very restaurant that the brothers, and Anke, used as a meeting up point as they took Cindy to the desert to kill her.  Janet mentions this restaurant in some of her talks with Anke.

Eerie I tell you.  Just fucking eerie.

Now I’m off to write and read some more.  I doubt I will leave the house today as I got plenty of supplies yesterday, the fog has creeped in all around me and I’m in a writing mood.  I finished two big chapters yesterday…maybe today I’ll crank out three.

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