I often wonder how many of us feel; emotionally, creatively, and ultimately stipend? What does it for us? is it the mundane question , ”hey how are you , whats new?” And most of us respond the same way .”Not much …..just working and you ? To me that is what feeds my depression like a fat kid at a buffet. I dream of of having a South Western life away from the dreary rain soaked days of Washington. To be absolutely honest , I hate it here . I hate this small town , I hate the expectation of validation being dependent solely on your last name . I am third generation Schroeder to one of the two high schools here in Gig Harbor Washington. My Grandmother’s side moved here from Minnesota in the 1950’s to a farmhouse on Crescent Valley. My grandmother and I have a kinship that is remarkable , I often feel that I was not only bread from her genetically but in a way by reincarnation . She was a teen parent to my biological Father who to this day is somewhat emotionally a stranger to me. As her first grandchild at 37 , She had this maternal bond to me that imprinted who I would become even as an adult . She always says ,” Mirrror , mirror on the wall , you are your grandmother after all.” I never understood fully the meaning or magnitude of her words until now. She always told me you will go through ten broken hearts before you find the right person for you . And through the years I never believed her I always thought this is it , but IT turned in to; mean , abusive,clingy, or gay. Until the day I met my person , who I never saw coming . She was right and we have these grandiose plans to escape the mundane. My goal is to leave this place by 2024 and be living the life that I will truly be happy living.

”I left Oklahoma ,driving in a Pontiac, just about to lose my mind . I was goin’ to Arizona maybe on to California ,where the people all live so fine .”

Tulsa Time by Don Williams

It was October of 2010 when I packed up my pride and all my belongings into the trunk of my red Pontiac Grand Prix. I set out to come back to the dreary state of Washington to reunite with my family but most importantly my 5 year old baby brother. I 40 became; HWY 89 ,I 15 ,I 84 and alas the familiar I5 North. When I got back I thought going back to Hooters would be easy but I was such a truant employee when I left 2 years prior , they were reluctant to hire be back . So here I was , 20 years old coming back home with my tail between my legs , jobless and driving a car that was a ticking time bomb . I needed a job and I knew one place that would hire me back whether I was a Leper or a Nun. Good old De’ Javu , the scummiest strip club I ever stepped foot in …legally.

Of course I assume most peoples rock bottom soup contained the same savory ingredients as mine ; drugs, vanity, vagabonds, strippers and manipulating the ARMY tuba player to pick up baconators from Wendys. Working in the titty bar wasnt that bad aside from having to lie to my family about having to leave Christmas dinner because I had to “work” at 9 o’clock at night .I met some interesting well rounded people but with the sweet comes the sour and the sour clung to me like fleas on a junkyard dog. Of course it wasnt a sexual thing when I became friends with Steve or ” Spider” as he liked to be called . The man had more tattoos of tarantulas on his body than teeth in his head. He was in his 50’s , heavy set , balding and had a blue tooth device in his ear at all times. I have always been vocal about my past especially with people who I consider friends and in no way a love interest . Safe to say , it was my delicate way to friend zone people. I just never would have imagined he would retain the information to later manipulate me and have me fearing for my life .

Spider was insane , he was convinced that he was a bounty hunter that had ”big brother” connections and that his job was to protect me from this conspiracy that my dead mothers ex boyfriend was trying to find me ,mate with me and kill me and my family. In reality he was just a meth addict that created this delusion in his mind and drug me through the scariest time in my life .With help from friends who I let know what was going on I was stored away for a couple of days on a military base while it was sorted out. I think he was a sex trafficker , and my 20 year old opioid drenched little body was worth something . I never knew what became of him . I guess there are just bad people out there and in the end they get what they deserve.

On July 2nd 2005 Kenneth Pinyan was rushed in to the Enumclaw Community Hospital, suffering from internal bleeding . He was pronounced dead from Acute Peritonitis, layman’s terms this weirdo got plowed by a horse and died as the result. Pinyan was part of what would be known as the ”Enumclaw Horse Sex Case” .Video surveillance of the license plate from the car that dropped Pinyan off, was obtained by investigators , which led to the uncovering of this horrific bestiality ranch in King County. I have so many questions ; why would anybody want to be a zoophiliac ? why was this legal at the time? How many people were involved? How big was this , what was the geographic spectrum of interested individuals? In 2005 only 33 states banned bestiality ! 33! Now in 2022 only four states do not ban bestiality ; Hawaii, New Mexico, West Virginia (no surprise there) and Wyoming .

I live in a small town called Gig Harbor which is about an hour driving time from Enumclaw . I have a bartender friend lets call him Jazzy . I was bartending at a bar here in town and he would come in and we would share the crazy shit that we have witnessed or heard about in our shared profession . He was telling me this story about when he was working at the Hub in Gig Harbor . The set up was perfect but the delivery …. Jazzy was a single male bartender at the time and it was a dim lit slower setting . Three women came in and sat at his bar rail. He noticed the woman sitting in the middle of this group was crying as the other two were desperately trying console her. At this point he’s thinking this is my chance i’m going to be the knight in shining armor and bang her and forget her name tomorrow . So he makes the move . ”whats going on , are you ok?”. She continues to cry , snot pouring out of her nose , face flushed and swollen . Her girls say quietly , ”she just found out her husband has been cheating on her”. This is his moment , time to go in for the kill … He asks ”who did he cheat on you with ?” she starts wailing uncontrollably . The friends prompt him to move in closer to divulge the identity of the home wrecking mistress. The culprit was the family HORSE! This was going on in Gig Harbor Wa. This horrific act of bestiality was going on in this wholesome little maritime tourist town . I do not know what came of the situation , but this story is the reason I wanted to start a blog in the first place . I have been reluctant to share some of the stories out of fear of being sued but who cares , I have three attorneys and the right to free speech. Get ready .

In my mind I toss and turn , it is 6 o’clock in morning on a crisp November Day or whatever this wee hour is between daylight and dead of night . I can not sleep , the memories of you rush in to my head and the uncontrollable tears follow . I miss my Dad , I miss his laugh I miss the simple opportunity to text him and tell him ”I miss you”. I have to write ;I have to get these emotions out for fear that they are going to eat me alive . Losing my mother sucked , dont get me wrong but this … this pain is a horse of a different color Dorothy. In my mind hes still launching me 10 stories in the air landing in the pool in Newark Ca. Or sitting on the couch holding his Hawaiian steel guitar saying ,”Kid , come over here im going to teach you how to play Lynyrd Skynyrd.”He is still telling me ”Fuck Em” whenever I have an issue of pretty much any variety really…I guess I never really thought of myself as a true ”Father’s Daughter” i hate the other term , it is grosse and uncouth . Only in this regard ofcourse. Iam , I loved my Dad more than anybody could ever imagine. He was my best friend ,I never wanted to disappoint him . Not to sound like a total asshole but if I had a genie pop up right now and he gave me the option , ”which one of your parents do you want me to bring back ?”.I would chose my Dad . No hesitation , no dramatic pauses. I wish there was projector screens shooting out of my eyes that could show in detail all the memories that I have floating around in my head . I wish the world could have seen the intimate family moments of the 3 of us snuggled up watching Austin Powers for the hundredth time ,little me laughing at obvious adult jokes that I wouldnt actually understand until years later.I wish they could see him as he was when he wasnt ”On”. Most importantly I wish he could read this right now . These are the things I wish I was able to say at his funeral . Although the raw emotion would have debilitated my speech …trust. Again my punctuation sucks but you get the gist . Unfortunately I do not have the help of Mr.Strauss Helping me relay what I have to say ,Damn ! if only I were a rockstar.

Everyone on this rotating ball of water has a nemesis. Mine just happens to take the form of my biological fathers ex wife . A 51 year old bi polar schizophrenic with a hyper sexualized delusion of the world. In her prime she was a manufactured sun kissed blonde with a yellow Volkswagen bug stopping for gas at the Phipps owned gas station on Bridgeport Way in Tacoma Wa. Now she sits alone with dirty grey laced hair and a gimp arm plotting her next attack on those who have forsaken her. I was 11 years old when I met her and basically my father for the first time . She was nice , she bought me barbies and stuffed animals and really put forth an effort to be a supportive person in my ever changing life. Needing to leave the Bay Area ,I lived with her and my father in Gig Harbor Wa. The summer of 2001 was supposed to be temporary like all summers for a kid i guess. I never got to go to camp as a kid , I never got the experience of escaping and playing with kids my own age making nik naks and kayaking and what ever else they do at camp . But this summer was that escape, i was in a strange land covered in trees and people who called soda ”pop”. To be honest I liked the change of scenery , I was hopeful for the relationship I was building with my father . I really thought I was going to be happy and stable . No more moving in the middle of the night , no more new father figures who beat the shit out of my mom, just stability .It has been 20 years since that dream burned to ashes and now I relent on the memories that followed that summer in 2001. Due to my mothers passing in the fall of 2001 , I became a ward to the state again just a different state this time . I was put into the care of my biological father and his soon to be wife . As the years went on the abuse from her was well disguised by her degrees in child psychology . Yes my evil step monster is a shrink .She currently works as a counselor at the Womans Prison in Gig Harbor Wa , known to the locals as “the Purdy Prison”. No one believed me for seven years , I tried to tell my family the horrors I dealt with at home . The only sounding board and true support I had were my friends some I still have to this day and still remember themselves . Being bullied at school was nothing compared to the bully that collected my social security checks at home . She would write me letters telling me how much of a piece of shit I was, she would starve me which led to the bullies at school calling me anorexic . She would make it to where I couldnt do anything but go to school and work . She would slam doors and stomp so loudly on the floor above my head that I was scared to come upstairs . In the summer of 2005 my little brother was born . He was a light in my life that I always swore to protect even from his own mother. They say having a child changes you , to this day do not have any biological children of my own but on the July 6th 2005 I became a mother or just the worlds best damn older sister. I thought that she would treat him like gold since he was a carbon copy of herself … i was wrong. i have come to the conclusion that she never really wanted to be a mother . I dont know if its because of her mental illness or sheer lack or desire . My brother is now 16 years old and wants nothing to do with her. He turned out to be an amazing kid , a little bit ; nerd, hustler ,musician, and loving towards his friends and family. i like to think i was a big part of that . Over the years my ex step mother and i have to come to an understanding that she stays away from me , she is not allowed to speak to me or be anywhere i am . She broke this agreement last month. Some how she stumbled into the bar i work at . She sat down with my regulars and proceeded to tell them that she was my mother and that i was a skinny bitch and that she was going to kick my ass in my own parking lot . It was an extremely busy friday night and needless to say i had no time for drama of any sort… good thing i have a wonderful support system at work and a blog . She finally got the hint that she was very much unwelcome she paid her tab and stood outside the large front windows . She just stood there taking drags off her cigarette like she was Sharon Fucking Stone staring at me . Her dead eyes followed me every move i made , just glaring trying to prove her dominance . I snapped liked a monday night , i kicked open the front doors got in her face reeking of stale cigerettes and told her to get off the property. She argued with me saying ,” wow, i have you all riled up dont i ?” i than told her that if she did not leave i was going to call the police . she asked on what grounds ? the only and first thing i could exclaim was harassment ! and than the words i had waited 20 years to say came out . ”I am not a little girl anymore and you do not intimidate me !”. it felt so good David had slewn Goliath , i felt like that scared little girl was standing next to me in spirit finally being released finally able to have peace. So she sits alone in her house with no one she did this to herself . She has no loving family , she sits alone this broken 51 year old woman , she sits alone with nothing but a pack of cigerettes and her own delusions. Heather is and will always be , grey.

Why is it that when it rains it pours ? It seems that Destiny is a smart ass debutant sitting in front of a crackling fireplace sipping a warm glass of brandy just waiting for you to notice the destruction she so carefully put in your path . Why is it that when something good comes into my life something tragic is soon to follow . Why cant destiny just make it easy for once ? Within a month ; I have fallen in love , Been diagnosed as being positive for Corona Virus , have been laid off from work and my favorite …. I have been notified that the man who raised me has 2 months to live and is barely cognicent. I don’t know what to do , I enjoy having control of my life and right now I have no control over any of it . Now i could handle everything as they come but it has just been one thing after another after another . My Dad Jason has always done his own thing , he has definatley been the Captain of his ship. The man has “Fear No Man” tattooed on his neck if that doesn’t sum up my father I don’t know what does . In the midst of my diagnosis I received a phone call from a man named John Jones who evidently is a childhood friend of my dad. He informs me that my Dad has been laid up in a hospital in Maui for the last two weeks . I had no idea that he was even sick , I mean he kinda always had shit going on but not to the this degree. He is going through Liver failure and has problems with his kidneys . I tried to talk to him on the phone but he can not hold a conversation with me for more than 2 minutes. Why did he keep his drinking from me ? How did it get this bad ? I’m 30 years old and now the medical power of attorney for my 49 year old father. I don’t want him to die , i was supposed to get my shit together , marry a good dude and have both my dads walk me down the aisle . I just feel like i wanna puke . I don’t know what else to say , if I didn’t get this out i was going to lose my fucking mind .

As we ring in the New Year of 2020 , I notice the masses are at it again . They want to hit the gym , stop smoking , find love or whatever “resolution” they convince themselves they will achieve. I have always had a melancholy view of ringing in the New Year. If you want to change something that is wrong , than why wait until the New Year to do so ? Why not work on changing the things you hate about yourself at the moment you realize that it is a problem ? Personally , i have a lot to work on as a person … i know this . The only thing is my battle with depression is making it quite difficult to do anything other than work . The things i am talking about are not physical necessarily but more psychological really. Like letting go of the past … i find myself more connected to the past than i am about being excited for the future and that may be the very reason i can not get off my pity party carousel . I want to look in the mirror and be happy with the person looking back at me , all i see are the things i should have done different . I was a great girlfriend at one point than one day i shut down . It is not his fault, he is the same guy i met 2 years ago . But i have these expectations of a life that he has not provided but i have always been so independent that i do not let him help me . My best friend told me “ Lyssa, I love you , but you are the most indecisive person i have ever met “. I just want to wake up tomorrow knowing what magic potion i need to show me purpose and what will truly make me happy . Do i need to get back up on aerial silks , do i need to be a better bartender , do i need to drive for hours with no destination ? I feel like i am the only person who feels exactly like this knowing that millions are dealing with anxiety and depression too. I know my punctuation sucks but i just had to get my thoughts out.

My left boob is Baby and my right boob is Firefly. On November 5th 2019 at 9:30 AM, a mildly sedated version of myself sat in a pre operative waiting room . My body began to shake uncontrollably, my breath shortened , “ did I make a mistake ?” . Well sugar tits … it is too late now !!! You already paid over $8,000 for this long awaited source of happiness . I remember when my mother got her boobs done . The year was 1994 , I was only 4 years old . I thought my mother was the most beautiful creature I ever saw , she dressed up as a unicorn for Halloween that year and to me she was , she was a sparkling weightless unicorn with a long curly blonde mane . My example of beauty was always my mother , so you can see the disappointment I had when my breasts never grew to a voluptuous size . I toyed with the idea that someday I would have good credit and finance boobs .. never happened, or have a job that made enough extra income to just pay for them .. again never happened. Until a series of events in my life played together so well you would think god was the conductor. Last September 2018 my credit score was in the 400’s, by September 2019 my credit jumped 200 points putting me in the high 600’s. Now the credit part was worked out … on to the job . On July 12th 2019 I received a phone call from the bar I worked at telling me I was fired !!!! After 3 years !? How dare you ! I was so upset I wanted to walk in to the shit hole and throw a molotov cocktail right into their liquor inventory and watch the place burn. The only problem with that is … I talk a big game but prison would not be a fun place to land . So I got a job at their competitor , and soon found out that I was not being paid what I was worth for 3 years . My new bar had all the things I was lacking in my old bar . Finally a bar that truly treated me like family , appreciated me , paid me 3X the amount I was making and most importantly gave me a schedule that allowed me to have a life outside of work . It took less than a month to save up for my “new boobs” . Now back to surgery day… I was feeling pretty loopy at this point 3 gabapentins , 1 celecoxib , 2 Tylenol will do it . The room was cold but I did not mind they had me put on a brown fluffy robe over my surgical gown , the hair net was sea foam green and it was not scratchy , the socks were thick but not too thick with white rubber on the bottom and vibrant turquoise in color . The nurse left and came back around about 4 times until she finally summoned me for surgery . This was it I was walking in to something that could be my fate or could change my body to where I can be happy and fulfilled . The room was bright white with little nurses buzzing around like bumble bees . I couldn’t believe they were buzzing for me , they had me lay down with my arms spread out like a cross. The anesthesiologist took about 3 tries to find my vain , I guess i got little veins. The last thing I was thinking before being knocked out was …” wow, this nurse has a really pretty eye color “. I woke up confused I had no idea where the hell I was . During the ride home I felt like I had a chimpanzee sitting on my chest , every pot hole and speed bump felt like my Kia was jumping in out of urban meteor craters . The first 3 days were hell , the pain in my back was worse than the throbbing pulsating pain in my boobs . When pain Killers were not working I used a red volleyball to crack my back and help me sit upright . It now has been 6 nights since my surgery and I will be back to Bartending on Friday . Oh and I’m moving into my own place in 2 weeks …..

They say that our parents shape us into the adults that we will someday be . Well with my mother I can not blame her for the way I turned out nor can I give her credit in the “shaping”. My mother was born Heidi Deanna Chance to Miriam Chennault and Rex Gilbert Chance on January 3rd 1971. She was one of seven … so far . Now, I love my Grandmother , god rest her soul, but my grandmother had 4 husbands and my mother was the second youngest of the bunch . From the information I have gathered about Rex from various sources ; Ancestry.com, my grandmothers testimony and other family members impressions ,paint a very grim picture of the guy. Legend has it … my grandmother met Rex at a Honky Tonk some time in the late 1960’s. He was a drinker and a truck driver . Ironically enough we both share the same taste for Jack Daniels Whiskey . Rex was an abusive fellow , he shoved my grandmothers head into the drywall while she was pregnant with my mother. That soon followed with a severe ass whooping from my uncles who were in their 20’s at the time . The abuse hit a head so to speak when my mother was 4 years old … Rex hit my grandmother for the last time . She grabbed a shotgun off the wall pointed it at Rex and said ,” You touch me or my kids again and I will shoot your head off !” . Needless to say he was gone . Than my grandma started working at the Shipyard in Bremerton sometime in the mid 1970’s. There she met my Papa , he raised my Mother as his own and they had my uncle in 1979. They started their home in Longbranch Wa , if you do not know where that is … that is ok most people do not . Longbranch is a community way out on the Key Peninsula … or the “sticks” . My mother grew up riding horses she was a barrel racer, rocker type. I feel like she always knew she was bound to end up in the spotlight someday . Growing up our family did not have much money my grandma sewed my mothers clothes and they made due with what they had . One day when my mom was in High School she was riding her horse Tracer and some girls jumped her off her horse onto the ground ; beating her and cutting her hair because they were jealous she attracted some boy they liked. Around 1985 she met Keith , who would become my biological father . They were inseparable, they partied together rode dirt bikes together than eventually in the winter of 1990 they had me . They were married in the Kitsap County Court house ( I was there ) my mom was 5 months pregnant with me at the time . I remember her saying how mad she was that she had to have a court house wedding . I do not care how much I love someone , if I do not get the wedding of my dreams I’m not going ! Call me basic but I deserve it . Of course the marriage fell apart and we moved to San Jose California when I was 4. My parents were not ready to be parents , I was dumped at everybody’s house and I mean everybody but mostly both sides of Grandparents . My mother started stripping for a living , and when she decided she wanted me we lived in motel to motel . My bedroom was the complimentary closet provided with my blanket a pillow and the company of the McDonalds Happy Meal Halloween toys . That may be the reason I have such a fondness for the macabre . My day care was the back room of the Brass Rail strip club in Sunnyvale Ca. While my mom was onstage I was entertained by Biker Bouncers who gave me Shirley Temple sodas because I looked like Shirley Temple incarnate . I recently visited my old Kinder daycare to thank the men who looked after me 20 years prior. There I was “ Porsche’s daughter”and told how much I look like her . Now to the sad part of the story …. Things got so bad in Cali that I basically ran away to Washington to fully meet my father when I was 11. Mom followed and eventually took her own life within weeks of being back in Washington . She hung herself from the rafters of my grandparents garage , coroner ruled it a suicide than moved on ….At 11 years old I was in a new state, school and household with no mother and no sense of belonging . I guess 11 years old is when I became an adult , there is no childhood after that .