Aug. 27, 2013

Aug. 18

A meme (/ˈmm/; meem) is “an idea, behavior, or style that spreads from person to person within a culture.” A meme acts as a unit for carrying cultural ideas, symbols, or practices that can be transmitted from one mind to another through writing, speech, gestures, rituals, or other imitable phenomena. Supporters of the concept regard memes as cultural analogues to genes in that they self-replicate, mutate, and respond to selective pressures.


Aug. 20

At home of Couchsurfer with whom I am not real comfortable. Judgemental person. Ah, well.

Going to Denver today on the Boulder bus.

Absolutely wonderful second visit with Meg and Sam and Archer yesterday up in Ned. We met at Salto (new cafe) and then went up to Mud Lake where Sam fished for crawdads and Archer just played in the water.

Saw Jeremy later. He looks a little unwell (he was in a bad car accident over a year ago), but he has definitely grown up. I have always liked Jeremy; now, I also respect him.

I told Meg that anytime Sam wants to come visit me in Homer, I will pay his airfare. I invited them all up to the Kenai because I know they’d love it, and Jeremy and Sam will like fishing there.

Meg and I went up to Ridge Road to see Diana and Al Nelson up in Ned, and I asked them for a reference for the house-sitting I did for them in 2012 (they have the parrot Big Bird). They mailed it, and I printed it out at the Boulder Library and sent it on to Jean Mack for the Homer house I’m hoping to rent.

I must be from an old Irish tribe who were very violent and went to war a lot. This doesn’t necessarily make for good family and marriage relations. In me it makes for jealousy.


Aug. 22

I hitched here to Pagosa Springs from Denver today. Nice folks, my CS host Dennis and his son-in-law, Josh, got me to a good on ramp. Then I got a ride from Rich who wanted to be heard. He talked to me about the state of his life at the age of 43.  A nice guy and I will keep him in my prayers. he drove me to Bailey.

At Bailey, I got a ride from Steven, a trucker. Arrived here in Pagosa Springs (beautiful little town) about 5 pm. Having a burger with green chili peppers and a Durango (Colorado) red beer now at Kits Cafe.

My first hour of hitching usually consists of me “acting out” as they call it in psychology. I listen to my iPod, dance, sing loud, wave and smile at drivers, and just generally get all my ya-yas out. It feels good. Then, I settle down, feel the ride comin’, and then, suddenly, there it is.

Life is a miracle.


Aug. 23

I am having tea and rugellas at a cool baking company (cafe) in Pagosa Springs. I figured out how to camp in town in a little town like this. Blew in off the highway from Denver yesterday in a semi truck.

Ate at a Kip’s Grill, and they told me it would be OK to camp in the bushes out behind their place alongside the creek. I put up my tent around dusk, smoked the joint I rolled (badly) at Dennis’, and slept well. A thunder and lightning storm came during the night and in the morning. The rain didn’t affect me. Good dreams.


Aug. 24

Walked a long way yesterday, uphill in the heat, getting from downtown Pagosa Springs to the end of the town. Must have been at least two miles. Then, went off the road into some trees to drink a beer.

In the woods I also shaved off the corns on my big toes with some sand paper I had bought, took and sent pics, talked to Seth for a while, ate about a million (my usual amount) sunflower seeds (in the shell), and just enjoyed being quiet and out of the public eye.

After I was there for several hours (and preparing to sleep there), a dog and his human saw me and, instead of talking to me (“What’s happening?” or something), left and went back the way they had come.

Immediately packed up and left. Hitched five miles down the road. The driver told me about Intermittent Explosive Disorder (his son has it), and I wonder if Meg has this.

I walked a little ways, then I threw my pack under a space in a fence, ducked through, and I found a nice place to sleep. Good thing I put up my tent because it rained toward dawn.

Walked a bit and then hitched this morning. Finally, after a mile or two, got a good ride and then another. In Farmington at Monica and Cecilia’s now. A girlie-girl house! Very clean and pretty. Yea!


Me: very creative; smart; Gypsy blood/spirit; working-class values.

Sam has synesthesia: he told me he can “taste colors.”


Aug. 25

Jean Mack called me today and offered me the rental in Homer, Alaska. I am very happy about this.

Having a great time with Monica and Cecilia.


Aug. 26

Hitched from Farmington to Gallup, New Mexico through the beautiful Navajo Nation. Rides from Elsie and Gilbert and their 2 little kids; James (on his car radio: Navajo music and Navajo language); Andy (out of work Navajo art teacher); and Stanley (he lives way up in the mountains “running cattle and sheep” on their ranch).

In Gallup now. Surrounded by Navajo (whom I love), Mexicans, Arabs (Stan said they call Hwy. 66 in Gallup “The Gaza Strip” because of all the Arabs [Palestinians, etc.] who now own the Navajo art stores there”, and of course Caucasians like moi.

Stanley said that 60,000 wild horses live on the Rez. He also told me that “about two thousand years ago” a bunch of Dine had an argument with the main body of the tribe, and they moved up to Alaska and the Yukon.


Aug. 27

I am staying at some kids’ house, and it’s chaotic and dirty, like many 20-somethings’ homes. If I were really righteous, I’d clean the house for them and not just complain (to myself) about it.

I think I’ve been a surfer long enough; time to become a Couchsurfing host or just give it up. I have the rentals in New Orleans and Homer coming up, so I’ll be off the road for almost a year. That’s good.

The next year’s challenge will be keeping happy while not travelling. I can do it!


After fixing myself, healing myself, and finding out why I am here in this body, on the earth, my goal is to find and be with my One Love, my eternal soulmate.

There is no “work” involved in this process. The spirits help us. They help me all the time, and eventually I will find him. Perhaps I have found him.

Then, we just let each other be ourselves, as individuals. That’s it.


Aug. 17, 2013

Aug. 13

Got two great rides yesterday: first, an RV out of Billings, Montana. Then a trucker from Calgary (Alberta), Canada picked me up and drove me to Lafayette where I took a local bus (1/2 hr.) to Boulder.

Slept by creek. Rain. A ten-hour day: 8 am to after 6 pm.

Boulder: beautiful geographic area, one-upmanship attitudes, money, many rich American Buddhists, Ph.Ds galore, good restaurants. all-white (Caucasian), privilege and entitlement accepted as the norm, self-identified as liberals, life in a bubble.


my Costa Rican, Aspie friend, David, posted this yesterday:

Autism & Psychologists

Psychologists find it difficult to help autistic individuals, for a variety of reasons. Craig and I both saw psychologists throughout our teens but we were relatively high functioning and, though our autism was the primary reason we were referred to psychologists, being autistic also meant that we were already thinking harder than most teenagers about how we related to other people and why we acted the way we did. Being autistic meant that we had to be more deliberate in these matter anyway; talking to a psychologist often felt like a duplication of effort. First we´d have to bring this person up to-date on our own thoughts, and then we´d have to watch them fumble toward an answer, though we already had one of our own. Also, because we were smart, and very aware of being smart, in an irritating clever-boy-good-with-numbers-and-long-words sort of way, we were rarely convinced that their answers were any better than our own.

– Send in the idiots, by Kamran Nazeer


Aug. 14

I had the MOST wonderful visit with Megan, Sam and Archer yesterday. We met on the Pearl Street Mall. I cried when they came; I was overwhelmed emotionally. I don’t usually show those emotions… certainly not in public. But it was so totally amazing. Reunited.

Sam and I are still close at a very deep level.

I am glad to be in Boulder. At Alfalfa’s for breakfast today.  When I get up to walk around here I am super-careful.

My tent was damp, my clothes were wet, it was cold, and I didn’t sleep well last night. Oh, well. Then, this morning I was tired and it was overcast and chilly out so I just left my tent and big backpack there. It’s not really visible, but it’s not totally hidden either. I have everything that’s important with me in my little daypack: IDs, passport, etc.

I am learning these things:

Love everyone (not personally, but generally)

Trust (what, really, can I not afford to lose?)

Peace. Surrender. Respond. Receive. (Feminine values)


I posted this on Facebook today;

People with Asperger Syndrome may sometimes act arrogant about their above-average intelligence, but if you were labeled “disabled” and regarded as inferior, you also might get defensive and flaunt your special abilities.


Aug. 16

Now, when I hitchhike, I just say a silent “Namaste” (the buddha in me bows to the buddha in you). I don’t want to deal with these motherfucker’ problems.

In Boulder on the Pearl Street Mall: money, feeling good about oneself, and intimations of helping to save the world.

Reading Creole Belle, James Lee Burke’s latest novel. It’s good and it’s very rough stuff. About the really bad guys.

Got my first negative reference on from Ingrid, the idiot girl with the psycho boyfriend in Spokane. I gave her a mild, but very negative reference back. A negative reference shows a person has balls and has stood up to her abusers! (I am talking about me, of course.)

Think I have a nice Homer rental. Why am I doing this to myself? Love? Yeah.

from Creole Belle:

“Is there any worse curse than approval? Have you ever learned anything from people who accept our world as it is?… it’s a fine thing to belong to a private club based on rejection and difference. I’ll go a step further. I believer excoriation is the true measure of our merit.”

excoriate: to censure scathingly


…protect the innocent and help those who have no voice…. (from Burke’s Creole Belle)

“Is there any worse curse than approval? Have you ever learned anything from people who accept our world as it is?… it’s a fine thing to belong to a private club based on rejection and difference. I’ll go a step further. I believer excoriation is the true measure of our merit.” (Burke’s CREOLE BELLE)

excoriate: to censure scathingly


Aug. 17

Saw wonderful documentary “Monica and David” last evening here at Melissa’s in Boulder. Hyein, another Couchsurfer is also at the house (she moves into a Naropa dorm today).

The documentary is about the marriage of a Miami (Florida) couple with Down Syndrome. It’s really amazing and made me feel so good. I love Down Syndrome people for their total honesty and loving natures. (OK, I’m generalizing, but it’s pretty true, I think.)

Another thing that made me feel really good is how Down Syndrome people don’t push or force things. They don’t feel pressure to conform or do any Neuro-typical stuff. I want to learn that.

Monica’s and David’s standards are not those of mainstream USA.  They don’t try to compete with others or “prove” how great they are. They live and love and want to be in charge of their own lives. They have good, supportive families. They seem to think very well of other people in general. They are not assertive (as Monica’s mom pointed out), but I think with more societal  respect and less familial protection, Down Syndrome people like these two (“high functioning” Downs, I would call them) can make a real place for themselves within our society.


Glad to not be camping. Just tired of moving around, travelling. Tired of my backpack. Want a home.

My Traveller and Couchsurfing friends are some of the most wonderful folks I have ever met. I get along with them really well. Yesterday: Boulder CS host Laura, Lucy from France (been here a few days; been on the road 5 months), Castain (arrived here from Germany 2 days ago), and I went to Avery Brewpub. Great time.

Last night here at Melissa’s, Mel, Hyein (from Korea) and I had lots of fun, eating, drinking wine, and watching the movie “Monica and David.” I slept well for the first time in four or five days (couldn’t sleep when camping: ground too hard and I was cold).

Got my first negative CS reference the other day from nut-case Ingrid in Spokane. I guess I am such a opinionated person now (and willing to stand up for my beliefs) that I am encountering opposition and people who don’t like me. Good! I gave her a mild, but very negative reference back (not a personal attack).

Aug. 11, 2013

Aug. 9

I am here in Missoula, Montana. Hitched here yesterday: 5 rides, all from women. Women in these northern states–Alaska, Montana, Idaho, Washington–are more independent, tough and daring (judging by their willingness to pick me up). Women in general (in other states) usually won’t stop to pick me up. Considering my age and sex, this is very surprising.

One ride was from a woman from the “lower class” (right below the working class, but above the lowest class (the “underclass”) is a class of people who work and also are very familiar with prison/jail, homelessness, domestic and child abuse, violence, and mental problems in the general population. This class of people is very alienated from the mainstream, and I don’t come into contact with them very often.

I felt very comfortable with this mother of 5, but I did notice a few things. When we got to Motel 6 outside Missoula, I went into her motel room briefly (while she got her dog settled). She called a male friend, and when she told him she had picked me up, he immediately assumed I was a local homeless person. At this point I realized with a shock that if my driver thought I was dangerous to her in any way, she would probably have attacked me.

People from this social strata have suffered. Life asks more of them; the pressure and stress they face is greater than for people in other social classes. People in the lower class are familiar with violence and have learned how to deal with it, usually with returned aggression.

What may appear to be learned helplessness can, in these lower classes, be surrender in the face of overwhelming difficulties which affect them both personally and socially. The connection between the social and personal difficulties for such people is always being debated. Psychologists see the personal as the foundation for all other problems; sociologists see society as the basis.


My new hitchhiking attitude: “soft face, no determination” (from Michael Yee yoga session at Beverly’s in Green Bluff, Wa. yesterday); no fear of men; just look at people as they drive past.


Aug. 11

All-day hitching yesterday. Long day. Five good rides–nice people.

Hitched in Laurel (outside Billings) for half an hour. People were getting off their day-shift at the oil refinery. Gene, who picked me up and who lives there (musician, my age, never oil refinery worker, has own business), said their jobs are boring and very noisy.

These folks had angry faces; some young men gave me the finger (that almost never happens). This is the proletariat who never dropped out and became American Traveller-Gypsies. This is the group from which our soldiers come, and they are angry, underpaid, and hard workers for the rich bosses. They do not like people who have dropped out.

I met Tim when I was hitching in Livingston. He and his wife live in Arizona, but they travel (big packs). Tim’s wife is in jail for a week (drunk in public), so he and Sam (?) are camped by the on-ramp, waiting for her to get out (tonight).People call us “homeless”, but we’re actually part of a group: American Traveller-Gypsies (just like the  English Gypsies and the Irish Travellers).

Tim invited me to camp by him and Sam (“We’re harmless.”) if I didn’t catch a ride; he also said that under the first freeway bridge near us it was dry and there was a sheet of plywood. On his was back to camp from the supermarket, Tim gave me some fried chicken (“Are you hungry?… I know you are.”). He had about twelve beers for himself and Sam. Nice guy. I have known and camped with guys like Tim in the past; they usually are harmless.


How much about my secret, inner self can I reveal to my Soulmate? So much of it is unconscious; I’ve hidden it from myself. Much of this true material, soul material, is forbidden in society. Socially, we are required to repress this stuff and act in “appropriate” ways. These are always ways that benefit the society, but these same ways stifle the spirit.


Aug. 11

Talked to Laura, an Irish music whistle and flute player, and she told me that my hair (our hair [hers is thick, bushy, wavy/curly, too]) is CELTIC HAIR ! I didn’t know that. I am so happy to finally know that I don’t have “bad hair.” I have Celtic hair, and I love it.

I am also recognizing (finally) and meeting more American Traveller-Gypsies. Thank you, Goddess! That is another of my Social Groups.

Hitchhiking is about surrendering to fate. I love learning how to do that. Trust and generosity are other lessons from both hitching and Couchsurfing. Important to me spiritually.


I posted this on Facebook today:

I am meeting lots of American Traveller-Gypsies on the road. I have been hanging out with these folks, off and on, for almost 40 years without understanding who we were socially. We are people who have dropped out of the proletariat (or middle class), and we are part of the local population genetically (we don’t have India roots, like the Rom).
American Traveller-Gypsies (like our English and Irish counterparts) travel a lot–and not just from one town to the next to use the homeless resources (we usually shun those things, preferring to camp out and make it on our own). We just love to travel!
The sedentary citizens are almost completely unaware of who we are and how we live–to them, we are just homeless people.


My 3 Wishes:

1.)     Evolve and grow–as a spirit.

2.)     Reunite in this lifetime, in the physical form, with my one, eternal Soulmate.

3.)     My loved ones are safe, well, and always protected.

Next 3  wishes:

4.)     The earth and all Sentient Beings are well and happy.

5.)     I have a big group of friends who all know each other.

6.)     My Soulmate and I will never be separated again in any way.


Appreciate others for being who they are, for just BEING and not just for what they can do for me.

Staying with the only people in Billings, Montana who are from the Czech Republic. And they are very nice people. I especially like my host’s mom, Eva.


Someone asked me recently, “Who are you?” I said, “I am a pilgrim, a seeker.”

A pilgrim (from the Latin peregrinus) is a traveler (literally one who has come from afar) who is on a journey to a holy place. Typically, this is a physical journeying (often on foot) to some place of special significance to the adherent of a particular religious belief system.

In the spiritual literature of Christianity, the concept of pilgrim and pilgrimage may refer to the experience of life in the world (considered as a period of exile) or to the inner path of the spiritual aspirant from a state of wretchedness to a state of beatitude.

SEEKER: One that seeks: a seeker of the truth.


Aug. 7, 2013

Aug. 5

In Seattle at CSer’s house. I was reading an article on the super-wealthy Inman (Duke family: tobacco) twins who were so abused as children (Rolling Stone magazine, Aug.15, 2013).

It made me think about my childhood again. Mom made me stay home with her (as a companion) so much. I could go out and play (like, with Jane and the neighborhood kids), but I was really kept on a tight rein, hit (spanked and slapped), and the supervision and control really amounted to a kind of abuse (it would have been called an old-fashioned upbringing, I guess).

I was an only, adopted child with parents who a.) were isolated themselves from the community (as post-WW II Germans in the USA),  b.) had very few friends, and c.) had their own psychological problems (Mom: depression; Dad: some kind of psychosis, withdrawal, emotionally illness).

I think I got a “learned helplessness” out of it.  through high school, Mom (with Dad in the background) controlled every aspect of my life, from my clothes and hair to my room to my “free time,” to my private journal to my boyfriends, ad nauseam. As with most abused kids, I was a staunch defender of Mom, my abuser.

I learned to sense things that, according to our society, “aren’t there” (like spirits). Having beliefs unlike most other people in your society is not a bad thing. I love my inner life and my beliefs. Much of my spirituality consists of beliefs held by people in other cultures and in non-Christian religions (my belief in the one, eternal Soulmate, for example–a Hindu belief). American society certainly doesn’t have a great tradition of understanding either the spiritual life or magic and mysticism.

My desire to shelter myself from unwanted influences and people is interesting considering how I’ve chosen to live for most of my life: moving and travelling. The way I have been travelling for the past few years has been not only an escape from people but also a constant barrage of new people. I  leave these new folks days after meeting them.

I am afraid that, after a brilliant beginning to our friendship, I eventually won’t like the new people I meet (this has happened so many times in the past). And I’m afraid these new people eventually won’t like me. Still, I want to try to settle down–in Homer, Alaska. Try again to build a base where friendship and love can grow. Perhaps I need to learn how to love more and better and let the rest (their feelings toward me) take care of itself. You can’t MAKE people love you; all you can do is love them.

I dwell on my childhood because it has shaped me and left me with lots of sore spots. I haven’t fully healed (do we ever?). I relate to and identify with people like me: orphans, adoptees, abused … This identification makes for hard friendships: we are people who didn’t learn good communication skills or how to trust others.


Can’t lay claim to any man. Can’t KNOW FOR SURE (not in this lifetime anyway; I’m not evolved enough to have that kind of clarity) that any man is my One and Only Eternal Soulmate. He’s out there (or he may be a spirit), but all I can do is keep trying and hoping to find him.

Can’t make someone into that person; it’s either him or it’s not him. So I can never put myself first in any man’s life and think I’m #1. And no man can do that to me either (because I think me and my Soulmate are probably at the same level of evolution). So… At least I am clear on all this even if I don’t know who He is.

I have so much to learn still about who I am. That’s a lifelong task: to know myself. I am still enjoying it, too, because I can see the progress I am making. I have learned SO MUCH about myself. And I still am learning.


Aug. 6

I understand that I was incredibly overprotected (by American standards) as a child. Mom would stay home alone all day everyday. She had one or two neighbor women who were friends (and only one was a close friend), so she was alone a lot. (Later, when I was in high school, Mom had a really good friend, Lois. That was wonderful for her.)

Mom depended on me to keep her company once school was out. I had to come right home after school every day. Only in my senior year of high school, when I became a cheerleader (a social status Mom and Dad had–and wanted–to respect), was I allowed to not come home right after school was out.

By choosing boyfriends who had abusive childhoods, I effectively eliminated any possibility that my sexual relationships with men would succeed. We were all too wounded to relate to each other in a kind and loving way. Even honesty was difficult. I certainly wasn’t honest with any of them (except Hank who got to know me during our 8 1/2 year marriage) about who I was: I didn’t know how to be. I thought that if they really knew me, they wouldn’t like me.


I start hitching to Boulder, Colorado today from Issaquah Park & Ride (Mike, my CS host, will drive me out there). I’ll take about a week to make the trip: each section of my trip involves only 3 or 4 hours of driving time, and I have couches (through all along the way.

Patience, trust and surrender (to the road) are some of the many things I learn from hitchhiking.


When I was growing up, we took baths once a week, European-style. Mom washed my hair for me even during some of my high school years. I was raised in a very old school, traditional European way.

Recently, in Homer, I stayed with someone who didn’t have a shower. We took a shower once a week, downtown, for $6 for 1/2 hour. I liked it. I felt really good after a week of being “dirty.” It just felt nice and natural.

In a house with a shower, I wash daily. But it does get to feeling a little compulsive and unnecessary. Americans are a little “too clean” for my taste sometimes. This whole germ-phobia we have is absurd sometimes… (not always, of course; some germs are deadly).

Dad was from Europe (born in 1901); Mom, born in 1908, was first-generation German-American. She and her family (10 kids) grew up in Roxbury, which back then was a community on the outskirts of Boston–it’s now an all-black, inner-city ghetto. The folks in Mom’s section of Roxbury (Thwing Street) were hated because of the two World Wars the US waged with Germany.

Mom chose all my clothes (or at least supervised my choice of clothes) almost all the way through high school (or perhaps ALL the way through [I forget]). She made me keep my hair very short (Muslims think women’s hair must be covered in public or it will inflame men. Was Mom thinking the same?)

When I had boyfriends (one serious one in high school, Dave Carroll), Mom stayed up worrying wildly until I got home at the required time. If I was late, there was a row. I think Mom thought that since my birth-mom had an illegitimate child (me) I was vulnerable. The bastard gene undoubtedly. Also, sex was so very taboo when Mom was growing up (and she was Catholic to boot) that it was like a curse (and only a pleasure for men), rather than a blessing, as we now know it to be for both sexes.


Here is the wonderful way my Santiago, Dominican Republic pal, Paula Bussi, translated one of her posts (in Spanish) on Facebook for me today:

The Life is the art of meeting, even if both of disagreement for life!

This is so hopeful about finding and staying with my Soulmate. It’s about “meeting,” and, even if we disagree, we can stay together for life. OK, so I have reframed it a bit, but that’s my prerogative! I see it as a divine message.


Got a good ride to Spokane. Dave and his little dog, Kia. Nice, nice, nice. Great ride.

Now I’m at a house filled with uptight conservatives or maybe they’re all just in bad moods. I don’t know. I brought a 40-oz. beer; I hope to get pot from the neighbors. These abstemious people aren’t interested in drinking or smoking. Ugh! Didn’t my host read my profile?

My host is preoccupied. With her boyfriend. With god knows what. She doesn’t seem to have time for me now that she realizes who I am. I think she’s surprised that I’m an old lady whose hobbies are drinking and pot-smoking. I  made my Couchsurfing profile much clearer about these things. And I specified: don’t host me unless you are at least A LITTLE CRAZY.

OK. So it’s my fault as much as theirs that I’m lonely here. I can just look at it as: I have a few days of peace here. These are not “my group” of people. Oh, well. The next group will be better… or the one after that.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever find “my group.” I’m such a social outsider. It’s mostly my Aspergers so that’s where I should start looking for my group.

My host may want me to be “nicer.” Sorry. That’s not me. I’m just being me. They are the conventional, “nice” people; I am the rebel, the punk, the funky crazy old woman. These people aren’t the wild artists I prefer. And they certainly know nothing about Asperger Syndrome.

I’m quite sure these people’s restraint is wise and will give them long lives. I’d rather be wild and have fun and live a shorter life. Yeah, it’s true.

Ah, the trials and tribulations of Couchsurfing. It’s not all fun and games. Eastern Washington state is apparently conservative. How on earth did the recreational pot law pass last November?


My CS host and I had a little chat last night so we are on the same page now. Good. She’s totally into other stuff, and I like hosts who are at least a little into getting to know me. Ah, well. I guess I need to settle down and find my own friend group.

I am realizing that, while an ideal relationship (with a man) would include a good sex life (and monogamy), I most likely won’t find that in this lifetime. My Soulmate and I may meet (or may have met), but I think he may be much younger than me (how did that happen?). We will each be into the sex life that is appropriate (I usually hate that word) for our age group.

I would not like to have a monogamous relationship with a very young man. At this age I know too much  to deal full-time with someone who is just starting to learn The Stuff Of A Lifetime.

I’m barely even jealous anymore (and that’s a good thing). The pleasures of sex are still very apparent to me, but the games and dramas surrounding sex (and relationships in general) are quickly receding into the dark and dismal past. I can still fall in love, but I no longer want to be controlled by sexual lust. That was a long, difficult period in my life.

Plain, old sex almost never completely satisfied my lust. Maybe for a moment or two. Then, I’d need/want it again. The trouble was that the men I went to for sexual satisfaction never were men I could love or even like very much. Our contact was usually brief, and I chose them only for sex.


Lust is an emotion or feeling of intense desire in the body. The lust can take any form such as the lust for knowledge, the lust for sex or the lust for power. It can take such mundane forms as the lust for food as distinct from the need for food. Lust is a powerful psychological force producing intense wanting for an object, or circumstance fulfilling the emotion.

~~Wikipedia dictionary


I think lust or intense (and perhaps uncontrolled/illicit) sexual desire is an evolutionary stage that most of us go through. My whole life was filled with lust.

Now I feel like I have escaped it or had the burden of it lifted from me.  I explored it as fully as possible. I was a sex addict for awhile. I tried everything I could, and I regret a few of those experiments  (including a few things I tried when I was “not in my right mind” [i.e. drunk or otherwise incapacitated). They hurt me and others.

The eight or nine relationships I had during that long period (including my marriage) were doomed from the start because they were based on sexual lust  These are the lessons of a lifetime. We all have to learn them.

I don’t like hanging out with couples who are so into each other that they have no attention left for me or anyone else. Perhaps I should use times when I’m with such couples to learn about relationships by observing them. I’ve noticed that some people, some couples, seem to be aware that their mutual admiration leaves others out in the cold. These wise people don’t flaunt their love in front of others who may be lonely or jealous.


That Couchsurfing host I was with turned out to be psycho. She and her housemates didn’t like me. I wasn’t supposed to even sit on their porch this afternoon (I was sent to a local park). I was supposed to wait til my host came home at 6 pm.

Strange people who called me “rude” because last night I was too tired to socialize with them. My host’s “partner” is a young psychopath. And my host and one other housemate (a guy) seem to be his minions. The psychopath didn’t like me so they decided they didn’t like me. A very sick household. I packed up my stuff, slammed the door behind me, and called another CSer here in Spokane.

Aug. 4, 2013

Aug. 1

Life doesn’t end here. It never ends.

To want someone to want/love you is silly. If that person is your True Love, he will love you and want you. It goes with the territory.  That’s what being The Two Who Are ONE is about: the constant, eternal longing for each other. If he is not your True Love, it’s absurd to try to make him want/love you. It’s just a big waste of time and energy. And for what?

For so long, I have identified myself by the reflection in my True Love’s eyes when I see him in my night-dreams and in visions. Now it’s time to get another view of myself: who am I in the world?


Aug. 2

You can’t MAKE someone be your One Love. They either are or they are not. And there is only ONE for everyone.

This is the person who completes you, makes you blissfully happy, and takes you to (a place we call) heaven. I have felt this joy and it’s incomparable. There’s nothing like it in the world. It’s the ultimate.

You can’t LOSE this kind of love. It just is. It’s yours–yours and your Soulmate’s. The Two Who Are One.

I may have found mine, but I will never “claim” him. I will let it go. Let him go. Let both of us be ourselves and be free to do whatever we want. We ARE together. It is our past, our present and our destiny throughout all eternity: to be together. It is pure Love. It is the best thing that could ever be.

There is nothing to DO. Nothing to PROVE. Nothing to say/be/etc. It is the one thing that just IS. And is ineradicable and eternal.

The man who I think is mine may not be mine. So keep it very loose. No holding on. No controls. No possessiveness. No jealousy. And, above all, NO FEAR. It’s a great ride. Have fun!!

We’ll laugh about this when it’s all over, and we’re just contentedly, permanently back together in all ways (no separations at all [the physical separation now is a test of some kind, a lesson…]). Then peace will reign in the land because all will be bliss.

My bliss is Him and Me, locked eternally in the tantric embrace (me sitting in his lap with his dick in me). (~~Hindu texts and other ancient and esoteric sources refer to this Soulmate bond; new sources like Deepak Chopra’s book SOULMATES also make reference to it. The concept of eternal Soulmates/Lovers can be seen everywhere in this material world; people see it when they are ready.)


My Facebook posts today:

True Love is about starting over every day, every week, every time you see each other again, as if you have never met before. It’s like in that movie, 50 FIRST DATES (with Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore). A great, all-consuming love (the true Heaven) is reborn over and over again throughout all eternity.
The Soulmate bond has no beginning and no end; it always was and always will be.
The way to know if someone is your ONE LOVE, your eternal Soulmate (and there is ONLY ONE), is to see if your Love bond with them is reborn constantly and without losing any depth and intensity (indeed, if it’s real it will continuously, eternally GROW in positive ways).


The Two-Who-Are-One, the Divine Marriage, is real and can be found not only in the spiritual world, but also (when people are more evolved) in the physical world.
The Keys to ONE LOVE are: 1.) no fear, 2.) letting go, not holding on, and 3.) always moving toward your own individual happiness: doing what you want and being true to yourself.
Aug. 3
Had fun meeting Becky and James at Matt’s house here in Anchorage.
I feel my Soulmate close to me when I am at my happiest and most contented. That energy draws him; that’s how he recognizes me: by my happiness! Wow. So awesome.
Then, of course, when my Soulmate is with me (when I can FEEL him close to me), I feel better than at any other time. I can’t even describe in words how good it feels. That’s what led me to him, too: the wonderful feeling of our togetherness- in-spirit. It’s better than anything else. Just amazing!
Growing toward this feeling keeps me on the straight and narrow. Wanting to be with him in every way (physical and spiritual) makes me want to only be good in this life and get no more negative karma. No fear; just learn to love and live together.
“I fell in love with your body and soul.” (song: It’s Your Voodoo Workin’)
When I am with others, walking somewhere for example, I can not focus exclusively on my own thoughts (as I can when I’m alone). As a result, I not only don’t think my own thoughts, but I miss everything around me (the environment, landscape, etc.). It’s a lot of work to BE with someone. I think it’s something I want to learn how to do better.
What I wrote on Facebook today:
Dream. Believe in miracles and impossible causes. Know that you can find True Love. Understand that happiness is your birthright. Love totally and completely. Expect wonderful things to come to you.


Have no fear.

I can see paths where there are no paths.

I believe. I am a true believer. I believe that some people are healers; I believe in True Love. I know spirits surround us.

Posted this on Facebook last night:

No matter how beautiful evil is you must not be attracted to it. Resist all that is evil and unhealthy and unkind. Let love be your guide forever.


I was one of the first punks out on the street. I was like a half-punk, since I was also raising children.

I don’t have to hold up the world with my Sagittarian (moon and mercury) enthusiasm and positive attitude. Those come naturally to me, but I don’t have to work at spreading them around.

I also don’t have to pretend (overcompensating) to be friendly, outgoing and comfortable in social situations. I never am. I have been putting on a show for others. Fake it til you make it.

I do like people and some social situations very much, and it helps me when I attend those events and go to those places with another person (or two or three…).

I feel more vulnerable when I reveal my true self because then unscrupulous or unaware people know how to get to me; they can see my weaknesses. But, the truth is, being authentic makes me stronger. Self-control is real power, not control over others.


I posted this on Facebook a few days ago:

Besides tales of true lovers finding each other here on earth, my favorite fairy tale is The Ugly Duckling. That was me: my adoptive family thought I was flawed because I wasn’t like them. Then, I found my birth-family and my real friends (which are also family). Now, I know I am a perfectly magnificent swan.

July 31, 2013

July 23

Saw two baby bunnies running around outside Darren’s yurt here in Homer this morning.

Realizing I don’t have to explain myself (as an Aspie, as anything) to anyone. I am ME, and that’s all I need. And it’s all anyone else needs to know.


July 24

Keeping my mood positive as life swirls insanely around me. Not getting involved or struck down by others’ moods. I have to stay UP and positive and high and so forth. It helps me, and it helps others. Getting involved in others’ DOWN moods doesn’t help them or me.


July 25

Another beautiful day after an evening full of good people, food and beer (etc.). Wonderful here.

Goya the big Persian Water Dog is the best, calmest dog I have ever spent time with. Love him!


July 27

Someday I will find THE REAL THING, THE ONE.  The Divine Partner may be found in physical form (as Hindu or Buddhist text says). The Divine Marriage is a real thing and is not always or only with God.

Finding my One Love (my Eternal Flame) has nothing to do with “making it happen” or “working on it.” He either IS or it ISN’T The One.

I know this man from my inner world. I am always with him, but right now, in this life, we are separated. (Not sure why… There are many stories about how this separation of the Two That Are One came to be. One version says a curse was put on the lovers.)

It has nothing to do with looks, being “hot”(sexually or how good we are together sexually. It’s not anything you can “fix” or make happen. It is or it isn’t. He just either is the ONE or he isn’t.

It’s never a question of “what can I do to MAKE him be mine or to make him The One?”

He either IS or ISN’T The One. You don’t “create” this kind of love.

Your Eternal soulmate is ONE person, one being, one spirit WHO IS literally YOUR OTHER HALF. He (or she) is not interchangeable. There’s only one of him.

He and I have never been apart. We were always together and always will be together. Only this ONE spirit is my other half. There aren’t a few or many spirits who can be my other half. There is only ONE.

This is not a concept I made up. It’s not only written in religious texts, but it’s also being written about today by famous people like Deepak Chopra.

You can’t make this happen. You can only tell if it’s real by consulting your inner world and being patient. This relationship exists in all worlds, in all dimensions. I ask myself:  is this (whomever) person the same one who I know to be my one-and-only in my dreams and mystical experiences? Is this the same person with whom I spend lots of time in my inner world?

It’s not about hoping and wishing… It’s just about finding Him, my One and Only.


Some people are insensitive, either because as kids they were badly hurt by trusted caregivers. Now they can’t recover enough to dare to trust others. Or because they aren’t evolved enough to be truly aware of others. They are lonely people because they think they are all alone. They haven’t yet realized that others are real.


July 29

Left Homer and came up to Kenai.


July 30

Wonderful night in Soldotna: dinner with Miriam and Dave and their kids. Then, Paul Knight came over to pick me up and had brownies and ice cream with us all. Such divine new friends.

Be gentle. Don’t show off; SHOW. Leos (I have Leo rising) are supposed to reflect people back to themselves but in a new way.


More Notes on True Love, One Love:

You recognize your True Love; you don’t create him/her. He isn’t

He is my foundation stone, the basis of everything. I found my existence on him, on our union. I am my ONE; my spirit is me. But with my True Love, I am complete.

Some things in life basic necessities. That’s how it is with my True Love: he is that for/to me. There is life on the surface, and there is the underpinnings of that surface life. That is who he is to me: the underpinnings, the roots.

The main stage in a True Love “affair” is not sex. Maybe when my True Love is flirting with others and having sex with others, I should imagine that he is showing me his sexuality.

Love and sweetness is good in a True Love affair. But every personal truth has to come out. This is an authentic, THE authentic relationship, so ALL the emotions will come out in the course of your love. Just try to be gentle, apologize when it’s the right thing to do, and keep the big picture in mind.

My True Love is in the background, in the shadows. I am in the forefront of my consciousness.

I realize that I can love someone THAT MUCH. That I can miss someone when they’re gone and be wildly happy when they return. All the while maintaining Buddhist detachment of course.

The person who is my True Love has that extra something. The magic. He stirs all my past life memories of my man, my husband, my lover, etc. It’s him.


Help other people see/know that they sound like a symphony.


July 31

I am constantly reminded these days of how much older and wiser I am than these young, clueless dickheads in their 20s. They have so much to learn, and some of them will rise to the challenge.

My current CS host is not comfortable with anyone in their little apartment when they are not there. Ugh! Oh, well. I am just sitting around from 7:30 am to 7:30 pm. It certainly could be worse. I am happy here at Kaladi Coffee on 6ht Ave. and G Street in downtown Anchorage. Just fiddling away online all day. As I say, it certainly could be much, much worse.

July 21, 2013

July 21

Staying in Homer in a small, beautiful yurt with an incredible view of Kachemak Bay and the mountains behind it.  My host is Darren, a wonderful guy, a guitar player, carpenter, and Gypsy (my assessment) of rather Buddhist persuasion who is originally from SW Florida.

Darren says we have become friends. I love that. I adore having friends, especially ones who want me to come back and see them again. He said, “Welcome Home!” when we were out drinking at the bars the other night. These are good signs for making a home-base here. Darren is a Good Guy, and I trust and respect him. He has friends here who genuinely like him. All good signs.

I want a few places that I love (for the land, the physical place, and for the culture and the people). New Orleans is one; Homer is perhaps a second home-base. One in the city, and one in the country. One north, and one south. Perfecto. Primo. As they used to say, “Fuckin’ A.”

My other repeated-visiting areas are: Marin County and San Francisco, California = Anya and Alon. Ventura County, California = Seth, Noelle, and Myles. Boulder and Nederland, Colorado = Megan, Sam, Archer and Jeramy.


Kachemak Bay has very extreme tides.

The tides at Kachemak Bay are extreme, with an average vertical difference (also called mean range) of over fifteen feet (15.53ft, 4.73m), and recorded extremes of over thirty-one feet (31.72ft, 9.67m) as measured at the Seldovia Tide Station. The highest tide on record is over twenty-five feet (25.25ft, 7.7m) above MLLW* and occurred on November 15th, 1966. The lowest tide on record is almost minus six and a half feet (-6.47ft, -1.97m) from MLLW and occurred on April 27th, 2002.

*Mean lower low water:

The United States’ National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration uses mean lower low water (MLLW), which is the average height of the lowest tide recorded at a tide station each day during the recording period. MLLW is only a mean, so some tidal levels may be negative relative to MLLW.



The Bay of Fundy is known for having the highest tidal range in the world. Rivaled by Ungava Bay in northern Quebec, King Sound in Western Australia, Gulf of Khambhat in India, and the Severn Estuary in the UK, it has one of the highest vertical tidal ranges in the world. The Guinness Book of World Records (1975) declared that Burntcoat Head, Nova Scotia has the highest tides in the world:

“The Natural World, Greatest Tides: The greatest tides in the world occur in the Bay of Fundy…. Burntcoat Head in the Minas Basin, Nova Scotia, has the greatest mean spring range with 14.5 metres (47.5 feet) and an extreme range of 16.3 metres (53.5 feet).”



Homer, Alaska:

Pop. (2010 survey) = 5,003

89% White

22 sq. miles (10 are land; 11 are water)

The median income for a household was $52,057, and the median income for a family was $68,455.


Here’s what Annie Dillard writes in Pilgrim At Tinker Creek:

An infant who has just learned to hold his head up has a frank and forthright way of gazing about him in bewilderment. He hasn’t the faintest clue where he is, and he aims to learn. In a couple of years, what he will have learned instead is how to fake it: he’ll have the cocksure air of a squatter who has come to feel he owns the place. Some unwonted, taught pride diverts us from our original intent, which is to explore the neighborhood, view the landscape, to discover at least where it is that we have been so startlingly set down, if we can’t learn why.

I think Aspies divert less from their “original intent” than many other people do. I think we fake it less. We do sometimes fake NT behavior until we have the confidence to be ourselves. This confidence comes from a.) knowing we’re Aspies (and loving it) and b.) from getting together with other Aspies and realizing that we’re all very similar to each other.


I have to  watch out for moose when I go to the outhouse here at Darren’s. Mice and voles run around on the ground.

As a couchsurfer, I am really exposed. I am at the will of my CS hosts. When they are warm, friendly and loving, I am so happy. I think, “Maybe I’m ‘home’; maybe this is somewhere I can return to and be welcomed by ____ (whomever) whenever I return here. Maybe I can find love here.”  If my hosts are (or, in the course of my visit, become) cool, detached, and  indifferent people who want to know just how long I am staying (because they have someone else coming), it hurts. I pretend it doesn’t, but it does. I do have an alter-ego though: Gypsy Traveller Me. I can finally switch into that mode (if I am rebuffed). I then feel happy and strong and I do some “down-the-road” planning for my upcoming trips; it gets me out of my funk from being “abandoned” (that’s the hole in my heart).

I fall in love so fast. And all of us long-distance, constant Travellers get lonely sometimes. Vulnerable is the word. I am definitely emotionally vulnerable out here. Alone and travelling, I am tough and very removed from emotional entanglements. But in the house of a charming, wonderful host, I become very open emotionally. I am, after all, still looking for my Special Someone. Maybe I have found him; I don’t know.


Homer was a camping place for the Alutiiq People who lived across Kachemak Bay on an island.

Alutiiq people

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Sugpiat (pl) Sugpiaq (sg) Sugpiak (dual)
A Sugpiaq dancer man with Agnguaq
Regions with significant populations
 United States (Alaska)
Sugcestun, English
Russian Orthodox Church
Related ethnic groups
Yup’ik, Aleut

Salmon drying. Alutiiq village, Old Harbor, Kodiak Island. Photographed by N. B. Miller, 1889

The Alutiiq (plural: Alutiit < from Promyshlenniki Russian Алеутъ Aleut), also called Sugpiaq [sg] Sugpiat [pl] (own name) or Pacific Yupik, are a southern coastal people of the Native peoples of Alaska.

Their language is called Sugstun, and it is one of Eskimo languages, belonging to the Yup’ik branch of these languages. They are not to be confused with the Aleuts, who live further to the southwest, including along the Aleutian Islands. At present, the most commonly used title is Alutiiq [sg] Alutiik [dual] Alutiit [pl]. However, these terms derive from the names (Алеутъ Aleut) that Russian fur traders and settlers (in 1784 Awa’uq Massacre) gave to the people from the region.

The Sugpiaq term for Aleut is “Alutiiq” and all three names (Alutiiq, Aleut, and Sugpiaq) are used now, according to personal preference. Some Alaska Natives from the region have advocated for the use of the terms that the people themselves used to describe their people and language: Sugpiaq [sg] Sugpiak [dual] Sugpiat [pl] to describe the people (meaning “the real people”) and Sugstun, Sugcestun, Sugt’stun, Sugtestun to describe the language.

They traditionally lived a coastal lifestyle, subsisting primarily on ocean resources such as salmon, halibut, and whale, as well as rich land resources such as berries and land mammals. Before European contact with Russian fur traders, the Alutiiq lived in semi-subterranean homes called Ciqlluaq.

The Alutiiq today live in coastal fishing communities, where they work in all aspects of the modern economy, while also maintaining the cultural value of subsistence. In 2010 the high school in Kodiak responded to requests from students and agreed to teach the Alutiiq language. The Kodiak dialect of the language was only spoken by about 50 persons, all of them elderly, and the dialect was in danger of being lost entirely.