344: Proof I am Alien… and Other Theories


Alien Rod
In the x-ray image of me, there is a rod the aliens inserted; it starts in my brain and jets down to my mouth (see front tooth area for proof); it is my communication device where I glimpse elements of the future and am able to deem what avenues to take to protect myself and society. I receive messages at three in the morning in the form of complex and unearthly prose, telepathically received with beautiful images and divine sensation of wholeness and completion. The aliens look like angels and drive spaceships resembling the sun and/or the clouds. They are not scary. The rod doesn’t hurt, but makes for a cool zombie-like image. By examining this photo, note the size of my eye sockets and ears. I am alien for certain. I even have the alien-shape-face-thing going on. And yes, this is really me!

Audacious Spirit
Before I was shot down to earth by the spiritual beings, whom guard the hall of records in another realm, I met before a board of angel guides; they had agreed to help me in this life. I jumped up and down and was so excited about my list of goals I wanted to accomplish here on earth. Being headstrong and determined, I did not heed the warnings of the master experts, the ones with a thousand more lifetimes under their belts than me. I am one of those ambitious youngsters who thinks she is all that—the type the elders laugh at so loud the skies of heaven thunder. Of course, I was clueless to my hubris and audacity, and thought myself brilliant. I recited a long list. Essentially I wanted to learn all the life lessons possible in 88 years. At half-life I would metamorphosis and all my prophetic and empathic senses would kick in. I wanted to see in all ways: to know through all senses, e.g., feeling, experiencing, hearing, smelling, and seeing. I originally insisted on the sense of taste too, to know things through taste, but the angels demanded I throw at least one thing out. I wanted to experience extreme agony, displacement, heartache, rejection, abandonment, physical pain, and on and on. Just bring it on, was my attitude. I had no clue how long earth lives were, as I had never been a human before. I was a dolphin. Now I am stuck down here with this master plan, and I can’t change it. I dream of water all the time, and get uncanny cravings for fish. The good news is half of my life is over.

Dropped Down

I come from a planet where chocolate is the staple nutrient for life forms and no one eats animals or animal products. Actually no one eats anything beyond air, energy, and chocolate. There are twice as many trees. And the trees talk and sing. They are the only ones that talk. The rest of us speak telepathically, so there is no need to shift through the multiple variables of words to express the multiple variables of thought. Thought just arises in images and picture form and through emotion. Beings are conscious about their intentions; and there is little fear, as nothing is hidden. Nothing can be hidden. Faces change based on experience and emotion, and one’s energy. There is nothing that is stagnant. We see the energy of the world spinning, and multiple worlds within everything. Beings have soulmates, intense soul connections, kinship, and a knowing of peace and serenity. I was dropped down here on earth by accident. And it sucks.

The Woman’s Wisdom
I was a sage in my past life, something akin to a Buddha, but not quite. I was considered enlightened by all who encountered me and all whom heard my name; but then, this scrawny two-faced hermit lady, who lived in the deep caves of some forgotten unmentionable place, she came to me, and she cursed me with her wisdom.
She said: “You are a man in form in this lifetime. You are not truly enlightened in the complete sense, unless you come back to this realm as a woman, and as a woman in form you live through the following: the extreme emotional and physical confusion of hormonal cycling (for peak experience, live in the years beyond 2000, where the environmental toxins that mimic female hormones are abundant; PMS is a blast), the pain of giving birth, (and most of the complications that can arise while pregnant, including the agony of inducement), the challenges of marrying and living with a man, (as a woman you will see the male gender in an entirely new light), raising children, (and lets add children who never nap, don’t sleep through the night, have chronic health conditions in early child years, fight for the first ten years… non-stop), the experience of Aspergers, (your son and you will have this, but you will not recognize it in yourself until half of your life is over; that’s okay because with this condition you’ll have the capacity to fixate and obsess so much that you’ll figure yourself out in no time), the pressures society places on women to look beautiful, (you can rock that whole half-front tooth that turns dead thing), the cattiness of women turning against you and stabbing you in the back, the pain as a result of predators seeking you out, a chronic pain condition that has no explanation and no cure, and that people originally target as an imagined female condition. Hmmmm. (She smiled her toothless smile and raised a boney crocked finger.) And let’s add that whole mother-in-law dynamic bit. Of course female or not, you can still be endowed with all the gifts from this world: prophecy, precognition, seeing, sensing, knowing, feeling, empathy, revelations, energetic healing, etc. You can take all you need with you that you’ve gained from this life of a man, but I am telling you now, it shall not be enough! Do all this and come back to me at the end of the lifetime, and then you will be ready to teach me.” I concurred and naively agreed. After my nod, she quickly inserted, “And, just for fun, let’s give you voluptuous curves which you are entirely uncomfortable with, and the mind of a prudish, but lustful nun!” And with that, I was born.

Photo on 3-21-13 at 9.41 AM #2

276: Taking the “Ladies” Out

I took the ladies out today. Just the three of us. Me and my boobs.

Can you see my reflection? 🙂

Yep. Squishing-under-the-glass-time. Also know as Mammogram. A word which makes me think of screaming for my mamma and grandma, all in one heated breath! Yelp.

I like to smile thinking of a very special machine built for men, where they can go and get their balls squished under glass and be man-handled.  Not that I don’t love and appreciate men. I only say this as I believe this idea might provide equal ground and assist bridging the barriers between the male and female gender. Plus, the image is really fun to picture in my mind.

For some reason I think this would be a good theme song for men when they go for their ball exam:

Don’t ask me to analyze. It’s the beat, I suppose. No pun intended.

The old me, unlike the new and vastly transitioned me, would FREAK out about lab tests of any type. The old me put off this particular boob-squishiness for a bit, all out of fear. It’s not so much the test itself. It doesn’t hurt at all; it’s quite fast; and the technician had warm hands.

I freak about the time in between: the waiting period. That’s what I freak out about in life in general, that unknown zone. I’m not good with unknowns. Or at least I used to be no good. Now I’m pretty dang functional, borderlining on fabulous.

Today I focused on the positive. I didn’t allow any thoughts inside that weren’t beneficial. I imagined that my boobs, my lady friends, we were going to a party. I listened to Dancing Queen by Abba all the way to the appointment. Oh, what the heck. Here is the song again.

I sang at the top of my lungs. And I didn’t care who was watching. I hoped I made them smile. Or think: What is that girl so happy about?

If they’d asked, I would have said, I’m putting my ladies on stage, out in the spotlight. I’m bringing them out to PARTY.

That was and is my attitude. I make it so. I made this a positive experience.

To keep my spirits lifted and to protect my bubble of love from outsiders who might unknowningly spiritually intrude upon my awesome zone of energetic space, I used all sorts of protective devices. I have my lovely nana’s rosary in one pocket, and in the other pocket a stone a special friend found for me on the beach. I sprayed myself with a protection spray made of various natural herbs. I even dabbed on my Tibetan Holy water, blessed by Buddhist monks. I put a drop of olive and garlic tincture on my tongue—energy vampires begone!!! I made my hair look lovely, and lips inviting. We were going out on the town, half-naked, after all.

I wore purple to represent my third-eye chakra. I grounded myself and got super comfy in my big tan poncho. And I donned my fabulous amber healing necklace. At the last minute I grabbed my lady’s out purse, the one with the glittery sequence.

I listened to my inner voice all morning. And she guided me. First suggestion: Limit the caffeine. So I ordered a decaf peppermint mocha coffee and water for hydration. I forgot my water, but two people, and older man and an employee, came running outside after me to give me my water. I felt special.


I drove to my destination, taking an exit I don’t usually take, and trusting my intuition,  found a new short cut. I arrived super early, and had ample time to focus on the message on my bumper sticker


And I rubbed the thick moss off a stoic tree and talked to him about his beauty. And then this stud muffin tree beckoned me over. I couldn’t resist him. Big HUG!

I took lots of photos, but my phone wouldn’t work. That’s okay. I did manage to capture a little detail I added to my entrance paperwork. A little extra love, never hurts.


You are missing out on the photo of me in my gown and a great shot of the boob-crusher machine.

I talked the technicians ears off. Go figure? She had to remind me to keep my mouth still while she was clicking the device to capture the rare images of my glorious ladies. I asked her if it hurt woman with small boobs more. She kind of grinned, and said, “No, it’s just different.” I wondered for a bit, what that meant. Then wondered if she thought that I thought I had big boobs and was bragging. I almost explained, but was distracted by the way my flesh appeared all flattened and spread. I remarked about the overall comfort of the machine and the improvement in technology. And of course, I verified twice when my results would be available.

I did mention about my Aspergers and my son’s Aspergers. It’s kind of what I do.

Turns out someone she works with has a son that just got diagnosed with Aspergers. I offered out my phone number to give to her friend as a gesture of support–cause that’s kind of what I do, too.

But no! WAIT…..

My technician got a little bit happy, and instead of taking my number, she asked me to return to the dressing area and wait there. She specified, “Wait here. Get dressed, and I’ll be back.” I thought it was funny that she told me to get dressed. I wasn’t about to meet a stranger half-naked.

Minutes later, I hear two ladies outside my curtain whispering: “Do you think she is dressed, yet?” And I’m thinking, behind my curtain: This is the oddest way I’ve ever entered a room before to meet someone for the first time.

I open the curtain, swishhhh, all dressed, and feeling like I’m the wizard in the Wizard of Oz, popping out with my hand extended. We hit it off, the kind lady technician and me; and before we are too deep in conversation, another lady nearby pops out of her curtain, still in her gown, not yet finished dressing. She says: “Me. Me, too. Give me your number and name. My son has Aspergers.”

So there we are laughing and talking in the middle of the mammogram dressing room, so much so that we had to hush our giggles. I even took their photo, with the one still in her gown! It was for my blog, I said. My Aspergers itself pretty much giving me the liberty to do and say anything, so I said teasingly to myself.

I left just so very happy and pleased.

My only intention entering that radiology department today was to make connections, to brighten someone’s day, and to make a difference. That’s what me and my ladies set out to do. All dolled up and out on the town, we just wanted to touch someone with our love.


^the song my grandpa’s spirit sang for two days to the seer, until he met with me, and figured out the message was for me. See Yesterday’s post if you are confused. Or take a nap. Or just nod like you understand, like I frequently do when others are talking and I haven’t got a clue.^

Now I’m going to listen to this song over and over. Me and my ladies, we feel like a good cry:

….. To make you feel my love. Hopeless romantic at heart.

270: Warning: Lizard Tongue

Working Titles:

I Adore Myself so Much I Could Hug and Kiss ME All Over

Aspie: Why I am So Awesome?

Take a Chance on Me…PLEASE!!!


Why I Adore ME:

1)      My super-sized brain that enables me to be in anytime and anyplace with the blink of my pretty eye.

2)      The capacity I have to entertain myself in thought over the most seemingly simplistic ideas, such as how well do I actually know the back of my hand, and am I the only one that isn’t familiar with the back of their hand, and am I more familiar with the lens of my eyeball from which I see, even though I can’t see my eyeball when I’m looking out in the world, and is my eyeball invisible? How can I see straight through my eyeball without seeing any of it at all?

3)      My intense humor that makes my internal organs giggle, while producing this devious, I-am-so-radical-and-fantastic grin across my blushing face.

4)      My ability to laugh at myself, over and over and over again, and my ability to point out my bazar weirdness so my friend, or neighbor, or complete stranger can laugh about me, too. Even though I know secretly they are laughing at themselves, because I am a reflection of them. And if I point that out, I like to watch their faces turn sheet white.

5)      My huge empathy for everyone and everything. My urge to get out of my van and find out why the man crossing the road is homeless and to fix him all up, like in the movies. And to turn him into a freakishly charming prince, and ride off in his shopping cart into the distant sunset, all in a matter of moments, inside my brain, while stopped at the downtown stoplight.

6)      My urge to save the world with my ever-building (secret hidden) super powers.

7)      My butt. It’s just plain cute.

8)      My need to talk to safe-looking strangers, and to compliment them, so I can see them smile and their eyes light up. The expressions I magically produce on others’ faces when my compliment is unexpected and downright odd. “Oh your house is so big and lavish and fantastic. Is this your dream house? Is this your dream come true? I wish I had a house like this. It’s so perfect. Did it cost a lot of money?” pause…  “Oh, did I forget to introduce myself.”

9)      My ability to have simultaneous sensations. While this isn’t the best: sticky, bitter taste in mouth, jagged bottom tooth puncturing tongue, hard chair penetrating butt, shoulders stinging from typing, throat a bit scratchy, ears hurting from hum of fridge, airplane flying overhead, clock ticking….This is fantastic: moss the brightest magical green on trees, leaves dancing and spinning in front of me as they float off the branches, spider web glistening and singing in beauty, dog smiling at me, feet crunching the leaves, rain tickling tongue, birds singing in unison: a mystical choir, flapping of wings, insects leaping, squirrels pitter-pattering and playing hide-and-seek, wind lapping hair, warmth of wool hat, heaviness of thick winter coat, comfort of wool socks, swishing of pants, the sound of my own song, the sigh, the deep breath, the inhale of fresh crisp forest air, my pulse, my heart, my stomach, my skin, my being, my total beauty connected with the world.

10)   My ability to be remarkably insecure and overly confident at the exact same instant. Especially concerning my wit, charm, intelligence, and hair.

11)   My need for approval while constantly denying the need for approval, as you simply don’t exist outside of my limited perception and this created illusion.

12)   My bouncy spirit. No matter how low or how high, I’m always bouncing inside with the thought of getting to know you and be your friend, and learn everything about you, once you have read my blog and can recite my entire life story, so you can relate everything about you back to me, and thusly keep me the center of attention, so I know I exist somewhere inside the illusion you’ve created, because the thought of being an invisible empty space, as is clearly feasible when considering the vast universe between my spinning molecules, puts me into a state of hyper-awareness of the need to validate my existence.

13)   The fact that I’m uncommon and could never ever be common and ordinary, as hard as I tried, except for the fact that Nerd and Geek are coming into the mainstream fashion; so I might feasibly become the norm, my non-ordinariness becoming ordinary; that leads me to believe I need to create another part of me so I can maintain my uniqueness before society tries to suck it out of me. Perhaps I will sprout wings or let my antennae grow…or reveal my secret lizard tongue!

14)   My want to use made up words that make sense to me, and the knowledge that every word has been invented by someone, so that no words are real anyhows.

15)   My ability to see patterns everywhere, to solve complex riddles while I’m sleeping, and to wake in the middle of the night with an entire script in my head that I know without a doubt I have to share with the world or I will have not fulfilled my mission on earth!

16)   The ability to be entirely ME, and to see that ME is constantly in transition, that ME is subjective.

17)   The way coffee turns me into an unstoppable engine of achievement (inside my head.)

18)    The way I can open the number of my chocolate advent calendar in December, eat the chocolate, feel the smooth tingle go down my throat and chill of pleasure up my spine, sigh deeply, and feel like I’ve actually accomplished something for the day.

19)   How I can predict and time my bodily functions and hormones. “Bitch today; check in tomorrow.”

20)   Just the grandness of knowing there are other people who get me, and the giddiness I am able to feel in knowing that we are all so fricken insane that it brings saneness back into the ball field, all redressed in the ultimate coolness of different.

^^^ The song I danced to in the sauna over and over today, while I was staring at my goldfish, and thinking I’m on the other side of glass just like them; I wonder if they think I am a fish. Maybe I am a fish. Then I clucked like a chicken for absolutely no reason at all.

I have not had the chance to ask my husband if this is socially acceptable or not. So I will take a chance and make a disclaimer: My gigantic over-sized lizard tongue is not meant to be sexual in any way.


Day 164: Undeep Road Thoughts

What I thought about while I drove eleven hours (700 miles) to California.

  1. “God gives us dope! God gives us dope! God gives us dope!” (Remembering back to when my young boys screamed this through the house, after they misheard the song lyrics: “God gives us hope.” I never had the heart to correct them.)
  2. Oh, I can pinch much less fat around my waist now.
  3. I wonder if I should use the all-wheel drive option for hills. Oh, what the heck. Let’s see what happens.
  4. Blue sky! I see blue sky! I wonder how tan I’ll get?
  5. “You know what?  Bird shit could easily be considered abstract art. Just look at it. (points to sidewalk) Even a good artist would have a hard time duplicating that.” ~ My middle son’s comment a few weeks ago
  6. The time when I was twelve, the seventh grade fieldtrip was to Ashland, Oregon, a seven hour school bus ride. On arrival I stepped on a nail and had to go the emergency room for a tetanus shot. On departure I threw up all over the backseat.
  7. The time I was a teacher and went to science camp with my fifth grade class and ended up in the emergency room for severe breakout of poison oak.
  8.  I’ve been in an ambulance at least six times.
  9. The time when I was a student at middle school, and in science class a boa constrictor snake wrapped itself around my waist, went through my belt hoops, and got stuck. I had to give the boa constrictor’s owner my pants to take home. Why does weird stuff always happen to me?
  10. There are a whole lot of songs about love and heartbreak on the radio, that pretty much cover every possible scenario, and that I’ve just about experienced every single scenario.
  11. My muse. My darling muse. The enigma who makes me read, write, and digest erotica.
  12. My youngest son is much like a wild hamster in the way he nests and clutters up the backseat of the van. Is there such a thing as wild hamsters?
  13.  I never ever see tailgaters in Washington, but see them all over California.
  14. Who thought it was a good idea to close California state parks? Who thought it was a good idea to elect the Terminator as a governor?
  15. Country singers can make anything sound sad and sexy.
  16. It was so kind of the restaurant waitress to subtract the price of the vegetarian omelet from my bill after I politely explained that they might want to be careful not to accidentally have chunks of ground beef in the veggie omelet.
  17. How wonderful that you have to let someone pump your gas in Oregon. It’s the law.
  18. How fortunate that out of all the gas stations in the upper portion of California that I happened to pick the only free full-service gas station. And that the man with the one arm and missing teeth who pumped my gas had the most beautiful energy and spirit. And that I could feasibly marry a man with one arm and missing teeth. And that looks do not matter to me nearly as much as the energy I share with a person. And that I need to stop worrying about my looks, because I radiate love and positive energy. And I am beautiful just like the man with one arm and missing teeth.
  19. How great that so many people have the capacity to travel the manmade road, through manmade passage ways, passages that were exploded with dynamite.
  20. Trucks are sexy. I would make a lousy truck driver.
  21.  I think way too much about way too much, and could probably survive with my sanity intact in solitary confinement because of my vivid imagination and inquisitive thought processes.
  22. For some reason the phrases “pump my gas” and “big rig” sound erotic.
  23. I’m so happy. I wonder if I drank too much iced-tea.
  24. I’m having a really good hair day.

Day 140: Closer to Sexy

Okay. New followers will likely think I’m a bit odd, but that’s okay. They haven’t read A Body of True Confessions, My Aching Loins, or Prude to Sexy, Yet. So they are likely thinking all types of thoughts. Truth is, I’ve really broken out of my shell.

Photos removed since original post. See links above for more information. 🙂

I don’t even recognize me!  I’m wearing my after glow from having kayaked yesterday for the first time, my Maui tan from May, and the confidence I had when I was a kid. Yay, me!

Prude to Sexy Check Off List:

Check…..Guitar purchased

Check…..First Kayak experience (1.5 hours)

Check….Kayak paddle purchased

Check….Closer and closer to buying a bikini


Oh, and I got a really cute pedicure today. See? This was not an easy shot to take. Trust me!

Toes on Camera

Thanks for following the journey!