Random questionnaire


One. Long story. I left him when I was 25 (it was final two years later) and told myself, “Self, you’re still young. You’ll marry again and have more kids.” I did have one more kid. I never married again. When I was young, not-fat, and marginally cute, guys at least occasionally attempted relationships with me. Post-divorce, all they wanted to do was get laid and play games. I’m kind of over it. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still hope a little, but that’s more like a hobby than anything serious.


(1) Craig in 1992. We both wound up cheating on one another after I went into the Army. He cheated first, I ‘fessed up first, then he and the girl he cheated with went around telling everyone I was a slut. I heard about it through a mutual friend (OK, an ex… I won’t pretend he didn’t have a vested interest in telling me, but Craig never denied it, either) and promptly dumped Craig. That was late 1992. Craig got back in touch with me in 2010 and got even by stringing me along for a while, emotionally abusing me, then disappearing again. One fervently hopes this time it will be permanent. So far, so good.

(2) Some guy in early 1993 when I got mis-assigned to Division and he was about to get out of the Army. He wanted to keep his benefits. I was not amused, though I think I turned him down politely enough.

(3) Jay H. in… 1994, I guess? I was an awful girlfriend. I’m not sure why; he wasn’t a horrible boyfriend. I think it just wasn’t the right time and we weren’t the right people for one another. (He’s much happier now. I checked.)

(4) Mike. (Who is different from a Mike I know from the local art community here.) The only one to make it stick. This was perhaps a month and a half or so into our relationship — we actually tied the knot MAYBE a month later — and I thought we were crazy enough about one another that it would carry us. Stupid me. Suffices for now to say we were both awful and it ended badly.

(5) Matt. This was during my polyamory phase and he was already married. Somehow within the context of an “open relationship” he managed to cheat on his wife, cheat on me, yet still be butthurt and sad if I wanted to be with someone else, even though Matt had a wife, two girlfriends, and the occasional festival “cute-and-cuddly” he would correspond with via internet until they managed to get together for a shag, and I had nobody else. Even my ONE FLING I ever had, ONE NIGHT while we were still together (the one he got butthurt about), went absolutely nowhere.

My polyamory phase is long over. All I ever found was guys who wanted me to be their extra anyway. Always the mistress, never the bride. Well, except for Matt’s proposal, but it wouldn’t have been a legal marriage, just a religious one. (We were in the same Neopagan church at the time. Yes, some groups are churches.) I am NOT doing that again. And whatever porny-fun things you think I got up to, the reality was a good bit more boring than that. I got into it in the first place because after all my relationship dysfunction I thought something was wrong with me and that maybe I was just wired differently. I still think I’m wired differently, but it’s not for multiple partners, or to be someone else’s multiple, either.

(6) I asked Craig in 2010 when he got hold of me again (see notes on item 1). Figured with 18 years under the bridge that was plenty of time for us to be sorted out. Nah. Tellingly, the woman he was cheating on me with AGAIN (as in cheating again, it was a different woman) and he called it quits after I gave up on him the final time and now he’s married to a completely other woman. I wish her the best of luck. She’ll fucking need it.

Bonus (1): Marc — the guy who initially told me Craig was cheating on me in ’92 — and I got back together after that and he came this close to asking. Never did. Danced around it once, that was it. He told my paternal half-brother later that “if things had turned out differently” we’d have been married. Dude, it would have taken four words. And a willingness to not leave me down in Georgia all by myself. What can you do.

Bonus (2): I’m pretty sure Jeremy was about to ask when I left him. And if he had been a completely different person but with the same capacity for kindness, I’d have taken him up on it. But he is who he is, who he is is not very nice under it all, and no one believes me. Oh well. That was one mistake I avoided. I’m not a completely hopeless case.

…Hm. This all looks a bit more impressive than it actually was. I’d trade it all right now to have wound up 25 years ago with a man I could still be with and proud of today. And to have had both my kids with him and in one happy little family instead of each of them having to grow up lonely.


Covered this already.

At this point if I met my dream guy and we hit it off hugely then hey, maybe? I need to spend some time making sure I can stand on my own two feet first, though, before I even open myself up to that possibility. The thing is, I don’t believe in soulmates; no matter how I feel about a guy, if either he or I finds we can’t function together socially or emotionally or whatever (there’s at least a possibility of figuring out physical issues), it’s just not going to work. And whatever feelings I have about love and relationships don’t matter one whit if every man I meet thinks I’m a troll, which I’m pretty sure 99% of them do.

I’m probably being stupid just saying this here. Some asshole will go into full-on predator mode and try to use my feelings against me, wait and see. I can’t ever draw the healthy ones. Those are for the pretty women. Feh.


Two. Boy in 1996, girl in 2004. Was not able to keep boy thanks to divorce. Long sordid story. It’ll go here eventually. Son and I are still not okay. I don’t blame him. I basically failed him.

I’m not 100% wholesale against having another kid, but I’m in my mid-40s and my clock’s going to wind down any year now. At this point, the guys my age who want kids want a 25-year-old to start the family they didn’t want when they were 25. The others my age are totally against being fathers (again?), and I don’t want some guy a decade younger than me just to reproduce again. Been there, done that, am not missing out on the experience.

Me being stepmommy to someone else’s kids is not me having more kids and I’d really rather not.


(1) Tubes in eardrums and tonsils + adenoids removed, 1985 I think

(2) Lower wisdom teeth (3rd molars) cut out (they had not yet erupted) in 1988

(3) C-section in 2004

(4) Literally had a rock removed from my head somewhere between 2012 and 2014: a stone in one of the saliva glands under my tongue. It didn’t hurt and docs couldn’t feel it from the outside but it had kept blocking the saliva flow, which did sort of hurt, and rather at random, which made me wonder about stones. That was one time Dr. Google DID help me, and I’m just grateful both my doc and the ENT listened to me. I still have a small numb spot on the left side of my tongue from where the surgeon traumatized a major nerve. Fortunately(?) it didn’t fuck my ability to speak. No one knows why I got the stone. The science on these isn’t as clear as it is for kidney stones. It’s not water intake and it’s not mineral intake, no matter what any individual doc might say.


One in each earlobe. Mom had me pierced by the time I was six months old. She tells a story about a black woman who accosted her on the way into a restaurant, took one look at me and said, “Why you go piercin that chile’s YARS?”

Oddly, the left earlobe piercing has gotten pissy in my middle age and wants to grow together, which it never did the whole time I was growing up or in my 20s or 30s. So I wear captive-bead niobium hoops now to keep that from happening.


None. I always meant to get one, and I could never make up my mind what. If I can’t decide what to get, I probably don’t actually want one. But this is one of those things I stay open about, like marriage. And won’t be nearly as tough to recover from if I get it Horribly Wrong.

Tattoos after all, unlike husbands, can be made to go away with LASERS.


Shot a gun?

Fired. If you shoot a gun, the gun is your target.

A .22 handgun, an M16 rifle, some sort of machine gun (what kind? can’t remember), and at some point or another, one or more BB (air) guns. Oh, and I’ve thrown four grenades. Not the smoke ones either. The ones that go BOOM.

Quit a job?

A few. Some more honorably than others.

Ever been on TV?

Maybe. I’ve been interviewed twice by TV stations since 2002. I can’t fathom I made the cut to actually get on the air though.

Hit a deer?

No. I won’t be surprised if it happens one of these days though.

Watched someone give birth?

Do I count?

Watched someone die?

No. Have seen four dead bodies, however.

Rode in an ambulance?

Not really. Closest I ever got was being a practice dummy for medic training and they “evacuated” me in a medical company’s helicopter. I was fucking COLD, as they wouldn’t strap me in with a blanket or a sleeping bag and it was fucking November. Thank fuck it was also fucking Texas or it would have been sooooo much worse.

Visited Las Vegas?

Supremely uninterested in visiting Las Vegas. If you want me to go with you, you better be cute.

Sang karaoke?

I don’t sing in public. (In my car is not “in public”.) If you want to convince me to sing karaoke, you better be cute.

Rode a jet ski?

Haven’t done, not sure what I think of ever trying. See previous two items.

Ice skating?

No. Not going to be convinced, no matter how cute you are.

Roller Skating?


This is why I won’t go ice skating.

In fairness, I have a history of tailbone injury. (Not from any sort of skating.) I would like that to never happen again.



Rode on a motorcycle?

Yes. It was fun, which is why I don’t wholly swear off ever trying a jet ski.

Stayed in a hospital?

(1) When I was born.

(2) Tubes/adenoids/tonsils at age 11 (see above). I think I stayed a night for that? Not sure.

(3) Kidney infection at age 16. Was in the hospital for a week.

(4) Childbirth at age 22.

(5) Childbirth at age 30.


No, but I got my wasband arrested in 1999. (Told you it was a long story.) Does that count?

…Copy and paste and answer these yourself somewhere if you want. It’s all good.

20 questions blog survey

1. Do you have any nicknames?

If I do, I have no idea what they are, and I don’t want to know.

Dad used to refer to Doug and me as Bubba and Sister, which is a typically Southern thing to do. In junior-high home ec class, the boys took to calling me Beaker when I got my hair cut short because they all noticed I have a long neck (still do, the double chin gets in the way) and big eyes. In high school P.E. class, some of the other girls called me Turtle; apparently I ran like one. (But not slow like a turtle. More the way I held myself.) My last high-school boyfriend had a weird nickname for me that was supposed to mean something nice, but I’ve since learned that basically everything about us was a joke to him then and now, so I probably can’t trust that one either.

2. Are you named after anyone?

Not that I know of. The way I heard it, my parents wanted to give me a first and middle name where I could use either as a given name without it sounding weird. But I only knew one person, my stepmom’s paternal grandmother, who ever called me by my middle name (Rachael) and I still don’t know why she did it.

3. Do you have any siblings?

Doug, paternal half-brother, born May 1978
Chan, maternal half-brother, born October 1978
Chaise, maternal half-brother, 1983-2010

I once had an older stepbrother and older stepsister but then Mom and Randy got divorced.

4. Where did you grow up?

Navy brat. Did not grow up in just one place.

5. What activities did you do in high school?

Computer club and chorus. If you look at my senior yearbook entry, apparently my art class counted as an activity too.

6. Where did you go to college?

Columbus State Community College, for an academic quarter and part of the next one, then I dropped out.

7. What activities did you do in college?

Wasn’t there long enough. Did make dean’s list my first freshman quarter, but that’s like saying I got honor roll for naptime in kindergarten.

8. What did you study in college?

Wasn’t there long enough. I pulled a stupid and went into it not knowing what I wanted to major in, switched to the associate of science track instead of associate of arts, and then dropped out too early. I managed to finish English comp and pre-algebra my first quarter (I may have taken something else, I can’t remember) and got into the “smart” algebra class the following quarter and then I dropped out and screwed everything up.

9. What was your first job out of college?

My first real job was out of high school — the Army — not out of college. I haven’t had a “real job” since college, though once at Comfest I temped for a lady I knew who ran a magick supply shop and had a vendor’s tent there. Doesn’t really count. I didn’t have anyone reliable to lean on with my daughter and was afraid of losing a second child, as I had the first, due to people not being in my corner. So I stayed home and hunkered down.

10. What kind of music do you like?

Classic rock, hard rock, blues rock (not that experienced in actual blues), metal, ’80s pop, a little bit of R&B and rap and country and classical and New Age (mostly Enya, most of the rest bores me), bits and pieces of this and that.

11. What’s one hobby that you’d like to take up?

I want to travel. I might actually have a shot at that in a few years if I play my cards right now.

12. What did you think you wanted to be when you grew up?

When I was elementary-school age, I wanted to be a scientist. As I was on my way out of high school I thought it might be cool to be a rock photographer like Ross Halfin. I had no idea how to get into that field, and anyway I discovered I really don’t like photographing people because they’re so often difficult about it. And now everyone doctors their photos so much that nothing looks real anymore and YET, that’s what sells so, basically, unless I figure out some sort of economically viable niche, I’m screwed as far as that being a career option. Fortunately, I still like doing it for fun. Never said I was GOOD at it, mind you.

13. What’s the biggest project on your to-do list right now?

This trainwreck that is my life. If you spun me around blindfolded and let me toddle off I’d land on something that needed fixing. Pick a spot. Any spot.

14. Do you have any irrational fears?

I have not noticed lately that very many of my fears are irrational. Okay, I’m not sure any of them are.

Oh ho ho, you thought I was going to go down the laundry list. Nope. I’m an open book, but not so open my pages fall out.

15. Have you ever traveled outside the country? If so, where?

I was born in Spain. (Funnily enough, very near to where a Spanish ancestor of mine apparently came from.) My paternal half-brother was born in the Philippines. (We’re both natural U.S. citizens. Eat that, Trump.) I haven’t been outside the United States since 1981, though I saw Canada across the Niagara River in 2010.

16. When’s your next vacation and where are you going?

I don’t get to have vacations until I actually have a job and have gotten my finances enough together. Even then I don’t think it’ll be a vacation, it’ll be an outright change of venue. I’ll say no more because I don’t want to jinx it, but it’s something I’ve just about got my heart set on now.

17. Do you speak any other languages?

No. I took a year of French in seventh grade (ages 12 to 13) and I have a decent ear for it thanks to my Cajun grandparents, such that I can’t stand hearing it butchered, but I never got fluent. I tell myself I still want to learn, but this is one of those things kind of on the back burner because I’m already overextended.

18. What’s one talent that you wish you had?

I wouldn’t mind having a better singing voice. I am not sure if that’s lack of training or if I’m just out of luck. If I ever get my life rearranged just right, I might try to find out.

19. What’s something that you wish you could do one more time?

Earn my own living. I’m in training for that and we’ll see how it goes. And not just one more time, unless I can keep doing the same work until I retire… as many times as it takes.

There are a few other ways I could have answered this question but they’d all require going back to a mindset that doesn’t help me anymore and depends on certain other people being other than who they really are (were, in one case). I spent a lot of my youth delusional about the actual state of matters, and I’m still paying the price. But I think the debt’s almost cleared.

20. If you weren’t in your current job, what would you want to be doing?

I don’t have a job. Also, I’m realizing what’s important is making a decent income. I can worry about stuff I’m “meant” to do, if anything, when I’m paying my own damned bills again. I have to say, however, that I’ve never felt “called” to do anything. Never felt like I was all that much use. There are things that interest me, and that’s about it. So I think let’s get the household finances in good working order and then I can spend the next thirty or forty years happily puttering around with weird stuff. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

Administrivia: 21 February 2020

I’m going to add in some “about me” type stuff to the bloggy area here.

I thought this might be slightly more interesting than this site just being a links repository.

There will be swearing, there will be the occasional political rant, and oh look I do not have the comments turned on so I give two shits what you’ve got to say about it.

I am not particularly bothered by the prospect of sharing. I have considerable trouble participating in in-person conversations because I’m quiet and people just run right over me and hardly let me get a word in edgewise. It’s either be rude and interrupt everyone or clam up. Either way, things don’t go well. So it’s nice to have a place where I can just blather without someone cutting in or drowning me out.

If anyone in my life ever cared to fucking listen to me, I might feel differently.

That’s about as likely to happen as me turning twenty again.

So here ya go.


Hi. Welcome to my homepage.

I have had this for years and can’t ever seem to make up my mind what to do with it. So I delete stuff and then add stuff back in every now and again.

If you knew me by my real name (this one) from a certain previous Very Purple Website from years ago and wonder where that site went, it’s gone. I may or may not ever attempt to reclaim the domain name. Probably not, but sometimes I think about picking it back up as a sort of redirecting site in case the few interesting people I met under the nickname I also had there might still look for me occasionally. Jury’s still out, a bit. But unless I announce here that I’ve reclaimed it, if you see someone with that name, they aren’t me. (What name? I haven’t mentioned it here. If you know, you know. If you don’t, it’s not important and you aren’t missing anything.)

If you knew me from LiveJournal, that phase of my life is over; I finally deleted the two journals I had there, the main and the backup, with my real name on them in late 2019 and early 2020 respectively. Any other journals I had there during my “I can’t decide on a cool account name and also I want the trolls to go away” phase were gone long before then. End of an era, in a manner of speaking. If you ever see anyone over there with my name again, they aren’t me unless I say otherwise here. I don’t anticipate I ever will.

Anyway, if you’re curious, have a look around. I’m fantastic at starting, not so great at maintaining or finishing, and that’ll become obvious to you very quickly. Oh well.