1999 Babies of Prince Will Rule the Tears for Fears World

A top quote from this holiday: "Basically Joe Smith called missionaries on missions so he could have their wives. And their daughters. What a faith inspiring story." The comedy at our homes these days, or in front of parents at school parties, wherever the conversations are free flowing, is hilarious. When an attorney we know in Salt Lake is excommunicated, rebaptized and on the LDS fireside speaking circuit asked our cousin, an eye doctor here in Vegas, upon our cousin leaving the church, "What are you going to do?" Our cousin's response was "What ever the fuck I want." The pure joy and happiness of these men reveling in truth is elating. Our cousin has already studied Sumaria and ancient practices to making the huge leap of understanding to "Yeah, God was an alien." He did not have to go to Contact 2022 in Sedona to learn that. How lovely that our cousin was the one to wake up at the same time as Andrew. We love that family and have had them in and out of our lives for our whole relationship, 20 years. His wife has been a soul tribe member of mine from the get go. 

This Thanksgiving we hosted at Andrew's house. We were very honest about our situation and the why behind it. The excitement at being liberated into ourselves lends a disregard for the choice of vernacular. With the gestalt of the group I hope all had some good conversations on a myriad of topics. 

Some of my most meaningful conversations have been with Deven. He has been staying in my casita for almost a week, visiting from LA. We talked for hours at Sonata Park with the dogs and the two littles found friends for baseball and flag football. We braved black Friday and went to the Wynn then Panera for dinner. Aunt Murle adores Deven.

Deacon and his 4 Menlove cousins/siblings are always dreamy. Deacon is a well adjusted human. He will, if not is, sick of hearing what a golden child he was and still is. Golden meaning comfortable in his world. 

Charly stayed over seas in Singapore and Bali, my OG baby girl! Let me say something about how I raised Charly first. I only wanted that child to have every opportunity she wanted available to her to have. I felt so trapped when I was a mormon divorced victim of domestic violence (I actually married that man twice because ya know in the name of the priesthood power). I am so over my past self. I was single and pregnant hence full of guilt, shame, and confusion. The bishop advised me to give Charly up for adoption. I thought oh hell no, what the, what? Give this child up for adoption? I am 20 bro. Why the fuck would he advise me to give this child up for adoption?  I was still in undergrad. I had no money. I was so sick with hyperemesis and laid up for most the pregnancy. I sat with her growing inside me and we had some long conversations in the dark den of my childhood home where I laid a lot of my pregnancy. She was NOT going to end up in this situation. I would be a villan ass mom if I had to at times to prevent her from ever being taken advantage of by a man on my watch. I vowed to expose her to as much as I could in the world, in life, in art, in food, in Vegas, in Costa Rica, in religion. Charly, even before she got here, knew she was going to be the gullet of life. I read her the Appolinaire poem where he yalps "I am the gullet of Paris." I promised her as large a life as I could, and that girl came here ready for it. She called me out on my promise from the first hours of her life the nurse removed the pacifier from her mouth she let out an intense scream. "NO SIR! Put that damn pacifier back in my mouth at this moment!" Charly was a voracious nurser and ate like a champ. She did not take her first steps walking. She took her first steps running y'all. I had to dive for the edge of the coffee table in our living room because she came 7-stepping into her legs working. She was early to the language game and began asking every morning she woke up "Mom, where is the party?" "No party today Char baby." She meant a birthday party she had been to, but she woke up after that party for weeks asking so that it became our form of good morning. She would wake up and say where the party at mom? I would reply "everyday is a party with you baby girl." And it was. She was a innovative, creative, vastly talented girl. The paintings were living room worthy. I had her do a large canvas when she was 4 for her dad. It was deep reds and blues and astounding. He says he still has it. She would go to poetry readings with me and get up to the mic and recite a little poem right after a slam poet from North Vegas just rapped 5 minutes about social injustice. I could sit all week and write about the creatively motivated things Charly has done in her life. The positively amazing accomplishments she has attained. The strength of her drive, the breadth of her passions, the depth of her emotion. Point being, I got a daughter understood the assignment we had from those long nights in the den. She understood and got 100% and some ridiculous amount of extra credit work is not needed because she had some nonsense to deal with along the way. Family stuff is a doozy for this girl. She had a mom who wanted to give her everything, even an example of how to live life even when one is terribly stuck. It got messy for all parties involved, but what can I say? I followed my very clouded instincts and visions and nightmares as much as I could at that point. I saw and knew and was guided to things all along. I know that. I deeply feel my whole path was guided. All of it. Whether it was the universe wanting to experience some horrific experiences so that could be experienced (Knowledge is power), or it was a race of aliens doing hybrid human experiments on all just for shits and giggles, or it is a simulation video game we are playing with our avatars in another realm telling us what to do. Like in the new show Peripheal. I love that first because of Ann Lauterbach and the cover of her book forces up to look at the periphery of language.  Chloe Moritz is a favorite because she looks like my stunning neice Madeline. The show is a banger on how this reality we live is controlled by someone wearing a headset playing the game for us a bit because the know what is going on and how to play the Sims to win. Maybe my higher self is in a headset right now promting me to do what I feel intitively to do because she know the damn game baby girl. That is a fun belief to have run through my head when I am driving fast on freeways because my higher self knows how to drive me to where I need to be at in 10 minutes. Like yesterday, when Charly was performing a set at the 60,000 person Allegiant staduim for the PAC-12 football game I had to get my ass to Resorts World for the ride with her and her team to the stadium and Vegas traffic was being it's ridiculous "assume everyone is drunk in this town" self it tends to be and I had to put on my virtual headset and drive myself there is a snappy time. I had time to sit in the lobby at The Conrad and sip on some earl grey tea with lime and honey love. Unbeknowst to me, Charly had moved the time to leave 30 minutes than what was on my agenda. Elder Bednar called those "Tender Mercies." I don't use that phrase but you get what I mean. Serendipity. Luck. Allah or Yesuwa moments. 

My path has been guided but cloudy because I had not yet remembered. That veil we all get when we come here was getting thinner and thinner. I kept working and working by meditating, educating myself with a load of books, writing, getting that kundalini awakening that gave me a back ache for 3 days the shaking and release was so intense, plant medicine, following my dreams even though some were so scary and absurd and illogical. Some of my dreams this past year have been so clear and so random and ridiculous but I had no fucks to give at that point at went with it. Oh, you want to show me of 16 year old Everett on a tractor during my 5 am morning run in Kanab, Utah. Running is meditation! I don't want land in Kanab, I don't ever want to live in Utah again. I have tried 3 times. I spent one miserable semester at BYU. I got in trouble for listening to Van Halen on a Sunday, outsed from the place for spending the night up in Salt Lake with my ex-husband because I could not quit that man for soooooooooo long. I was so confused, broken hearted with Heavenly Father and my self most. Guilt. Shame. Why had I felt I was supposed to marry this man?! Heavenly Father i was given a blessing my a bishopric member during my time of wondering if I should really marry this return missionary I had met when he was serving in our ward. You knew him as a missionary! You know him now and you are blessing me with all this district attorney 5 kid having community leader that you are! He was a great man. He did great things in the church. But he blessed a young woman at the age of 18 while holding his hands on her head that "this union is ratified by your Father in Heaven. He will bless this union with love." said amen, gave her a fatherly hug (way worse than my dad's suffocating long hugs) and left me with the thought "Ok, girl. It's good. You good." I insanely believed. I was brainwashed to believe. My culture was mormonism. A cult, that is why it is called culture. When you are taught something so fundamental as a child and it is pretty much all you know...it becomes so engrained in those theta brain wave years that it sticks until you are a 49 year old lds man running a billion dollar ponzi scheme deal in Henderson, NV. That just happened here in this Anthem area for like the third cycle. There was one in the 2000's, one in 2010's, but 2022 was my personal favorite.

This guy and his wife grew up in Vegas as well. There are childhood events we crossed and knew each other at points. We ended up in the same 7-Hills Ward when our oldest children were in primary. One of their boys loved Charly during high school. This guy went from being a pharmaceutical sales guy doing well, to selling loans with 50% returns and buying a jet in a short period of time. I knew this was going on (and that it was a security he was selling, and not a loan, and the SEC would arrive shortly to shut that down. They did. One guy was killed over it by the police) and would chat at the gym with the circle of guys involved with this to the point one pitched me on this fantastic opportunity to invest with these guys because it was "unbelievable". This came from a former Harlem Globe trotter who is the nicest guy ever. I laughed and said "Dude, I knew Jeff Judd in high school. No way would I ever invest in that." And that it wasn't really legal, and the SEC information and all the information Andrew would tell me about how ridiculous and illegal it was. He had just taken an SEC test and was certain on the spot it was bad news. He told people this. Over and over. Then walked away. I have had men ask me "how did you know that was no good." I did take Securitization in law school with that one tough hombre Bruce Markell. That man was consistently brilliant and kind. He took the law seriously and sanctioned those who did not practice as if they took the law seriously in his courtroom. Some Champman guy in the Ward got a top notch slap by Markell. That guy had to attach a copy of the court blunder to every pleading he filed for a period of time, take a bankruptcy class at UNLV, etc. before he could file another bk. John Eggum, who is now an attorney in Chicago, sat in the jury seats laughing like children while Markell just laid down edict, insult and compliment in one sentence. 

Well, alot of people did invest in it. Many members of the church, here and in Utah, many family members, the fall out was great. So great people are cashing out their investments with Andrew to pay back the receivers of the case getting back some of the money these people lost. Anyway, it simply lent me the knowing that the church is just a multi-level marketing company. It's members are so blind to their true selves that they are willing to give their whole life to this religion. They are will to think so compartmentally that they can separate themselves from truth, freedom. and life. Can separate a good secure investment backed by the real SEC alien energy god source itself than a loan backed by a salesman? A Vegas mormon kid? A 14 year old gold digging storytelling occultist to go lightly on Joe Smith. Pedophile, thief...et al. A big investment. It is an "all-in" religion people. We do not fence sit, there is a right and a wrong way. Wear that magic underwear or ya know, you don't get to get into that inhumanly expensive building on the hill to get those key and covenants. Then you can come back. Every week. You are urged strongly to go back every week to serve in the temple. It is a date night for married folk. You get to play dress up. Watch a movie. Participate in a coven ritual prayer circle in a free masonry knock off ceremony. Man, if that is what you guys want to do rock on with it. Just maybe don't teach your children to do that. I mean that strongly. Don't teach your children to do that.

We as a species seem to be walking the brink right now on a lot of things. The way that can change is dependent upon the around 1999 babies. Prince was the king of 1999. I have a dance party for Prince every time I hear him. The generation right now for sure are going to be amidst building the new. The children I have met in my life since I have had Charly, are astounding. I have had the pleasure to have many of my kids friends in my life and I was continually falling in love with each of them for their strengths and power. Charly has this ability to do with people as well. She loves the strangest things most about her friends. Charly is an example of someone who is breaking down the paradigms. Looking at the adults that have been in her life and saying, "Oh, imma smoke over here and hell no to all that you all are selling me. no no no Sirs do not take my pacifier/freedom." Do not take my freedom, kindly.  She is of the generation that started self-realization. 1999. Those babies went to town with sledgehammers on all this illusory non-sensical paradigms. Doing Walt Whitman proud and over throwing the teachers. The generation after them are going to help out, they are the ones that hopefully will be raised by awake parents so they can become self realized and free humans. If they become self-realized then maybe we can continue on in a manner different than things have been. More like the Ancient Egyptians, who I actually think lived right here on this continent, the Mississippi River is the Nile, the Grand Canyon divine a place for building little pyramids for energy. Things are not what we have been told. What we were taught is wrong. It is exciting to learn new stuff. No? Change is beautiful. Metamorphsis is fascinating. If people are not changing they are not remembering. We had a veil put on our remembering, once you remember you change on a molecular level. The illusions are seen and dismembered one by one. Government, hollywood, trafficking, food poisoning, feminism, hustle culture, marriage, religion, law, gender, whatever was false fades quickly. So many illusions in all areas of life, not just religion. In all areas of life. 

The awake and healed masculine is so needed and necessary right now. 

These fems are tired. They have been physically beat through abuse, childbearing, harassment, inequality, not feeling safe to walk alone or travel. Even traveling with you is suspect, unhealed masculine, because you are usually able to be the perpetrator to knock down my door when I was in the shower after I locked the door to give your message of force on my body in front of this 3 year old's mother. As a Safe Nest first responder with Metro Police here in the Vegas valley I can say domestic violence knows no color, no status, no age and it was triggering as hell for me at first. That turned to passion and love. No sir, no to that. Yes to freedom. No sir most of the time. But even if the woman is being dramatic and Machiavellian let's throw that hormonal woman a bone. I say we assess her well-being and needs. She may have a kid, make a kid, talk to a kid about a perceived abuse. How about a system of respite for the women who work through horrendous physical conditions each month, each pregnancy, each activity we have to learn how to redo every month depending on the cycle of the moon we sync with. There is no red tent for us, or pretending to be sad we were exiled to the woods during our time of the month, but actually skipping with joy we get to go be alone and bleed instead of in a white skit in a courtroom, or in front of a primary room leading music and performing like a clown for 80 children to learn the song "Follow the Prophet"? Follow the prophet? I laugh out loud at the word prophet. CEO is more appropo. The CEO has told you to vaccinate your children. The CEO is waffling based on social pressure regarding the homosexuals. Are they in, out, glasses on, glasses of, hair up, hair down, glasses on. Job of Arrested Development instructed his girlfriend in the bedroom to find her appealing to try alternate senarios. Follow the prophet, indeed. Wizard of Oz. Plato in his cave. Watch the shadows on the wall. Don't turn around. Don't go behind the curtain. Oh so sad, you just realized it was all a show by a few in control. A lot of white men, men in general, some sleeping ladies, some deamons, Annuaki, some reptilians, some hybrids. It devolves deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. These rabbit holes of learning that lead to a spiritual awakening is a tough road. Taking the red pill is really a choice to leave most of the life you have had up until that point. 

Mama and papa wounds keep you anchored in your bloodline paradigm. They did their best and now it is up to me to take what I ordered them to teach me when they weren't even dating yet. This is savage shadow work, but it must not be skipped. The old identity requires a savage severing, or it can be done in increments, which is the equivalent of a dentist removing a nerve pinching tooth over 100 settings vs. pulling it out in a second. You need cajones the size of the underworld to remove everything and everyone connected to this identity. The little person in us holds the power, but in order to survive we developed a few other identities to shift into in order to keep safe. These are cancers we have to identify. Get the wisdom from them, then cut them out like Kali would. 

Back to being gay, bisexual, fluid. We chose this orientation. To change a paradigm. I won't go too far into this except for...stop the othering. Heteros stop othering queer people, and vice versa. Lesbians stop othering men, or women who are bisexual. As a dancer and poet I spent my life around queer people. The most recent friend in this arena of life is Alex Stabler. He topped off this journey of change coming in quickly in my life as an interior designer. I was in my personal wellness resort in California and getting ready to come home to an unwell home. 20 year old carpet. I found him, met him with a black trench coat as a gift, and he was Jesusy magic from the get go. This man was lead in La Reve as the blonde prince of the show. He knew from meeting me that I was not rooting for him when I saw the show, period. I wasn't. There is no white knight in real life! However, I was all in rooting like mad for whatever character was brought to my home redesign door. Stay stylish. That is the tag line for the company, the lifestyle, the love. Just stay stylish in the way humanity treats each other. Alex and I have decided to redesign what marriage looks like with our respective spouses, but first he designed my living room in my now home, completed a European tour for Chippendale's (replete with his aerial silk act), and contacted me so many times in my dreams the past weeks he has been gone. Alex is a busy man. A busy dream traveler. A busy higher self. He is not even back from the tour yet. His last show is tonight and his husband Freddy has gone over to be with him, so can't wait to catch up with him. I will wait for him to contact me. I do that now. Otherwise, I scare people. They get vibrations, they get plant medicine visions, they get knowings from childhood and reach out to me. 

I have wrote about Sarah's story. My soul family from high school The only friend I really felt connected to. She bounced on my life after the bishop's blessing I got to go ahead and marry my first husband in 1995. She was in the room during the blessing, watched this grown man lay his hands on my head and tell me what he told me, saw my mom ratify the whole situation, became overwhelmed in her 17 year old self at what was going on, and walked out of the room. She walked out. As she should have. Left me to deal with my clairvoyant, introvert self and vowed never to speak to my mother again for allowing such utter abuse to go on. We lost contact. She did a psilocybin journey in December or 2021 in which she saw me, wrote of me in her journey notebook, asked the universe who she had hurt and permission to access them in a space they could understand. Know what? She accessed me. Persistently and I head her voice when I was walking through the house. Her voice. "Ness." I finally just texted her and was all "hey girl, what's poppin. long time no talk...hope you well...hope the kids are well" haven't talked much but how are you really Sarah because you have been heavy on my mind, absurdly. Camus absurdly. She responded with "you heard me." I did. I still do. Telepathically. In my dreams. In non-communication. We hear each other without communication. The first realization of an awake soul family member not in my physical day to day was Sarah. 

People do change. Not with the caveat "they are still at the core the same." No, people can change in a complete way once they remember who they are, why it is their turn on earth, and maybe even what planet they come from. Blue Avian anyone? So many Pleidians these days, and the Arcturaians took over once they got Sigourney Weaver for Avatar. They change when they realize they have dreams that really come true, when their energy reaches another without logic, when all is made clear. When the veil is lifted. When the contract is complete. When the experiment is over. They remember in the creepy way Hamlet's father would whisper to his son, "remember. remember."

So like, but unlike, The Modest Proposal, I am putting out a manifesto to any human born around 1999, because the older generations have been in the dark. As we slowly awaken we have so much to learn that many of you seem to already know. Help us teach these younger kids. We all have to give them the space and the ability to become self-realized. So they can make clear decisions about who they need to be and what they want to become. There is so much you brilliant humans know that we Gen-X lovies do not know. We don't. Most don't want to in many areas of life. My art school friends are deep in their commitment to not selling out to social media. It can be so painful to our souls to put stuff on social media. Gamers...gamers step up. Teach these kids how to play these games that teach out of the box thinking. Truths are in gaming. Don't sleep on Zendaya in the OA on Netflix Season 2. If the kid wants to learn to grow tomatoes, let them. We need them. If they want to game they learn focus and thinking skills.  The strategy is immense. If littles want to learn gaming, teach them. If they are dreamers, I have a couple of dreamers in my kids, teach them about intuition, psychic abilities and quantum entanglement. 

Knowledge is power and responsibility.  When we start to wake up to the mechanisms of the universe, when we truly start to understand this bigger connection between all things in the universe, there is a responsibility to that and what you do with it to teach others impacts us all in a ripple effect. I will teach and live in alignment with what I know of the universe. I will allow my children to be unapologetically who they are. Things got a little murky for Charly, Deven and Deacon, but for the most part those kids were free to choose who they were, what friends they wanted to have, what passions to pursue, what books to read, and then some.

I was often bringing inappropriate art...a little Kanye for Christmas can only help the occasion. If you add a choreographed dance routine performed by all three children in-sync with each other I'd say it was worth it. It wasn't Twisted Dark Fantasy, though they all know the full length video and lyrics to "Runaway" because it was on repeat in Tamarindo when we lived there. And Lil' Wayne Mr. Fireman. The music I had them use for the Christmas dance was the song "Friends" with Bon Iver. That video has a cute dance number towards the end of the video that I loved. Dance babies, dance.

I asked for that from the kids for Christmas. Just that. No toxic bath salts from Vons. No gas station gifts. Just a little dance and I loved it. I was so entertained and appreciative. It is a gift when children entertain adults. You children seem to do it endlessly with just who you are. Those "adults" who are not just in awe and entertained by you, they are not your business. That is their business, not yours. 1999 and after babies! Mount up and love yourselves. Period. That will change your world, the whole world, worlds to come. You are a gift. You don't know life pre-internet, isn't that enough said? We did not have information, we had long ass walks in the heat to the library. I loved the library. LOVED. Who was walking to the library in my generation? Not many. We don't know a lot about a lot, but the smartest people know that they don't know anything. We can learn, the kids below you can learn, and you 1999 lovies get to be the delicious middle of being the teachers to both sides. That is what Charly does for whoever gets the gift of her presence. She teaches me by watching her handle her business in a way that is, honestly, a breathtaking watch. She teaches people Ezra's age as she kneels down to take pictures with little girls. That is her favorite, the littles. That is just an example. It is a lot of responsibility so just live your best life and be you. They will learn from that. Us parents may pick up a hack on an app just by sitting behind you. So, instead of a modest proposal, I make a significant call to love and protect the children into self-realization. Let them heal the world. Show them all the beauty they possess inside. Even those adult children who were in and about 1999. I am sure it dates back earlier than 1999, but Prince. 

Stay in the moment. In the precision of the muscle move of the attitude pose, in the moment of the finger grip on your next move up the rock wall, in the moment moment of your sincere silent cry for divine guidance, in the barberic yelling of your rage to the ancestors for help. On January 13, 2022 I laid all I had to give to the universe. I met my ancestors face to face. They had come to me in dark meditation, they had come in running meditation, they had come in guided meditation, they had come in dreams, they had come in colors. they had come in ear ringing, they had come in synchronicities, they had come in and drafted me to attention. They were relentlessly coming about land to buy, children to save, families to help, offices to rent, messages to give softly, messages to relay with more force. If I did not hear the messages the attempts were made more evidently shocking and debilitating for me. Until I listened. What other land to buy, moves to make, nightmares to endure, houses to move, dead father in law to talk with on the daily, dead child to talk with, dead dad to talk with, dead cousins to talk with, and the grand parents are relentless. 

Of course, my dad colors the fabric of my waking and sleeping life. He is a mad mastermind still walking the casino carpet of the Stardust. He walks it still because it was the Stardust, of which he was in the general counsels position of Boyd Gaming that had their corporate offices in the Stardust hotel proper for years. The Stardust was my dad's office. After my brother's eagle project at Hellen Keller middle school we had the pool and Mary's Diner all to our young men's and women's selves. Order a chocolate shake 50's style. Now we walk entourage syle down the old Stardust, now Resorts World, while his grand daugter assembles her family and friends, to perform all night at Zouk nightclub while he sits where ever he chooses to sit. It is obvious he took some reigns after he passed. The Conrad hotel at Resorts World was classic. Take me back to my 8th grade Canadian love Conrad who had a staying power of a soul mate friend I dream of still, because of course his higher self is putting his shoulder to the wheel to harass me at any dream it can. I won't reach out to Conrad. He is a powerful dream traveler as well. Until my mom wakes up she harasses my dreams. She is clawing at my flesh and making unstoppable bleeding wounds in my dreams. 

Vana is a good mother. She gave her all to being a mother. I had a lovely childhood under her care and love. She is a super star grandma. At this point she has told me she will die believing in the mormon religion. It seems so those trapped and clawing Vana dreams that last all night some nights will continue until she adds upon her current understanding. I do not talk to her about the dreams I have of her, nor the learning I have acquired. The people who want to know have asked me to keep them in the know. If they text me close to a dream I have had about them, I will be normal and reply casually "what's popping?" Usually, they have to make it weird before I talk freely. Like when my friend Veronica pulled me outside Halloween night to talk with me alone she emphatically made it weird first, "Vanessa, you visited me in my dreams, really visited." Ok, let's meet. I will give any notice to those that were here for the evolution of me innerstanding I was a dreamer and specifically asked me for notice upon any sightings of their selves in dreams, waking visions, telepathy, or any nuanced nudge.  One friend laid out "I do not want to know. Don't tell me. I want to be surprised." I take deep note of that Sushi Wa lunch chat. "I do not want to know." Some people do not want to know. I won't tell you unless you are my child, soul mate Andrew, or a fam member who has asked me to. 

It is no longer madness here when I hear and see other realms. It is a whole real energy. What jokes does Paul deadpanly tell? I can say that Paul Menlove remains the most "gut-wrenching I should have seen that coming if I was more aware" lock down comedian in my interactions. The quick wit is sharp, whereas my dad's is in your face "use that tip for charm school" irreverent. Before my dad passed he dropped a memory for me to hold onto after a lunch we had at Applebee's on Decatur Inn and Maryland Parkway. He had not eaten in days, so I drove down after Deacon was at joy school with Mr. Church. Being pregnant with Everett I was not eating, especially at Applebees. The waitress was not as polite as dad deemed necessary. As we left the table he threw down a $100 bill to this woman waitress as he left the restaurant he yelled over to her as she was standing near the bar, "darling, use that tip for charm school!" I was in the that was funny but not really funny conundrum as I got dad in the car. That is Chuck's sense of humor.

In 2012 I was sick again with my 4th kid and my dad beat me to the death game. I see him now as a brother, not father, you are my brother. Parents lead and guide then they don't. Then they are your brother and I lost a dear brother when my dad passed. He left me with obscure truth he voiced when he was morphined up at Desert Springs hospital, or drugged up at Sunrise Hospital with so many different ailments. He was fed drugs by his family and manipulated by friends and family at the end of his life. His blood line is a drug addict greedy satan worshipping family. My dad's family is something else. I cut off contact with anyone from his family after my dad's "accidental" death at his friend Terry Bedford's house on Mother's Day 2012. Everett's year. Dad sent me a bouquet of flowers that mother's day with a card "To a Good Mother. -Dad" That day we were at the pool with the boys and I got a call text from Terry Bedford,"Your dad has had a head injury. He is at Sunrise Hospital." I got there at 5, got my dad's blackberry at 5:30, pleaded with his swollen brain self not to leave me now that I just got him. In the hours that passed I realized that his Crazy Horse Fremont car dealing gold chain wearing friend Terry Bedford had been made executor of my dad's estate. Along with my vicious cousin Kim Brown. It is difficult to prove undue influence. What is a contract: offer, acceptance, terms, damages. I don't think my dad gave acceptance to how he contracted his worldly inheritance would be dispersed. I do know his blackberry had a meticulous calendar of how his time was spent. He did not plan for an emergency room visit on Sunday in May 2012, but he had scheduled an office visit with his financial advisor Stu Baskin on the coming Tuesday morning. In his notes section of his upcoming visit with Stu was typed "discuss Vanessa back to beneficiary." I had one day to save my dad after his head injury. The gypsy smoke screen throwing Huff family took my dad and his money. His inheritance. Not just his money, but his life. He had no funeral. He was just gone. His stuff was all gone because his family would not let us near any of his belongings. It was just done. That was my dad's contract and he left; he passed Everett. Everett was born with a noted Wharton's knot in the umbilical cord. I refused to follow my dad's suggestion as a young adult to go to  Wharton's school of finance, so he cleverly tied a Wharton's knot in Everett's cord causing me to wonder if that had any doing in Everett's autism. My dad's inheritance was not his belongings, it was my son, Everett. My PaPa and Dad are enjoying me having a red headed, strong bodied, football loving, rainbow warrior who shows up in Kanab in a tractor. Kanab was orchestrated by Paul. Paul loved Utah and now his children have land in Kanab to develop for themselves and their children.

It was the more subtle, deep voices of the watery unknown that demanded attention and silence. The Mary, Isis, Lillith, Maat, Sekmat, Sappho, Stein, Plath, Brenda Hillman, Anne Carson, MaMa, Retta, Sharlene, Elenor, Krissy, Michelle, Bethany, Charly, Vana. It reveals itself in the language of energy. The energies of my family reach me. It is from family in the future, or family here, or family just passed in this lifetime, or 50,000 years ago. The call is to pay attention. The signs are everywhere in plain sight.

To wrap this back, Charly stayed in Singapore for the holiday because she was in flow. Yes. Please take care of yourself. Love yourself. Recharge from your soul contract being fulfilled clause by clause. Everett and Ezra remain full entertainment for everyone. Now onto Christmas. It will be a different Christmas. I don't celebrate Jesus' birth, maybe Santa. There is so much debate on him.

Moral of the story: I married Andrew because I loved him so much. He was LDS, in law school, had a big nice-ish family (they did not want him to marry me, they would not let me on the boat with my bikini on, they did call me high maintenance. The last they were right, not monetarily, but emotionally...for sure. I am an ever rolling stone sucking the marrow out of life. That takes some emotional maintenance to stay with for 17 years.) I was too scared. I was blind, traumatized and raised in a cult. It is done. Andrew and I have done enough in response to our upbringing. We are high fiving each other so deeply. WE DID IT! We are both each other's biggest supporters in freely taking care of ones ultimate passions and purpose.