Moving to Scotland

[Guest TheOtherHalf]

Current events of late have had me up in arms, and apparently they're mustering over there. I've decided to move and join them, while I'm setting up my fitness business at the same time. I'm going to try to bring my cats with me. That's all I'll post for now until I have any definitive follow up to affirm just how much my intentions are in alignment.

 

As for war, I have been a pacifist until now, but now there looks like there's going to be no choice, the writing's on the wall. Hopefully they won't need me to do any trench work but I'm ready to do that as well, if I must.

 

But if I can swing accommodations for myself and cats for free or in exchange for my services and pledge to serve the cause of freedom against terrorism and tyranny, a cause which I would kill and die for as it turns out, and an opportunity to serve that call couldn't have come at a better time.

 

If it goes really well, I'll be a war clerk and gym instructor.

 

Thanks for putting up with all these posts. I should probably have an answer about the feasibility of this move within a week.

 

 

[Bear Tomás]

Good luck.

[Guest TheOtherHalf]

Honestly, I didn't even know I was a Scot, never mind just how Scottish. As I attempt to forge closer ties with one of the new found family members, I find he is icy cold. I guess I need to pony up on the signature as well as other follow up with respect to my claim on the name. He probably isn't too impressed that I find the banner of the name to heavy to carry anyway, and that I changed my mind about changing my name to that name, but chose instead a name that felt much lighter on its less imposing feet and suited me better, vibrationally. Still at least no objection, so I guess they just want to know what cut of tartan they're dealing with at this point. The irony isn't lost on me. Plus the rules. The Scots have some strange social rules, don't they? I've heard of some of them, and laughed at them back in the days when I didn't know I was Scottish. The movie "I married and axe murder was a huge hit among me and all my Scottish friends, and all the Scottish names I've had since birth, adoption, marriage, and so forth. So to finally realize that I have one solid identity on which to hang my 2 gallon Stetson and it feels fantastic.

 

As for career, I've been vacillating between pimp and gym teacher again. I did look at rentals in Glasgow though. Some are not too pricey compared to Toronto, but I just wonder how much anonymity you could have in a place like Glascow.

 

I'll update when I get my career sorted, and thanks for the words of encouragement.

 

Edited to Add: Robert Burns was a friend of the family.

[smm]

It's amazing how much anonymity you can find in Glasgow.

 

Oh, and Edinburgh is where the brothels are; Glasgow has enthusiastic amateurs 😉

 

I wish you luck.

[Guest TheOtherHalf]

Ha ha. Well I knew what effect my career ambitions with respect to being a pimp might have. I'd put myself out there if I was still as young and fresh as I was before I became widowed. But I'd make a good pimp, and the girls are going to do it anyway, so why not provide a service that brings them clean respectful clientele and accommodations that are safe, clean, and beautiful? This trade is completely underrated in terms of just how much it has contributed to the shape of civilization over the last 6000 years. Think of Venice, the one time cultural capital of the planet - and all that poetry, art, and architecture sprang up around the loveliest whores this side of Eden.

 

As for myself - the world shut me out my entire life. From the moment my mother gave me up for adoption, my fate was sealed. There was constant and severe physical and sexual abuse in the home, horrific bullying and beatings at school, and try though I  might, I could not be consistent in school or job efforts. Of course this did not make my entrance into society any more doable.

 

Then there's my late husband. I'm not even entirely sure he's dead till this day, and frankly, he always gave me the distinct impression that he found me to be an embarrassment and that he did me a big favor by marrying me.

 

He really, really, wanted status really really bad. Even though he held a doctorate in engineering physics, he always felt he never got the respect that his education and career warranted. If he were here today, and if he knew that it was actually possible for me to break into circles that not even Bill Gates can break into (albeit as a lowly hanger on, but still), well that would be ironic.

 

So really, people like me end up on welfare, on the streets, or as prostitutes. It is our fate. It's also our fate to be judged for the rest of our days I guess. But I was a good girl. I really was. I had a good heart and I gave everything I had freely to all those I loved. And here I am - alone. Still shunned, still scorned. May as well be rich at least.

 

It's also just as likely that this wave of ambition will pass, and I'll be right back to starting up fitness training online, because I'm still meek and respectable underneath it all. It's hard to shake that.

 

Thanks for weighing in. Glascow and Edinburgh are both beautiful and Scotland is breathtaking.

 

Edited to add: It may seem a bit off the main point here, but I can't help but think of my sister right now. Because she looks exactly like the aforementioned new found family member, even though he is an old man and looks like Wilfred Brimley. So does she. She looks like Wilfred Brimley.  Karma really bit her in the ass there. I guess I know that even though we have had virtually no contact over the last 17 years, she has worked quietly behind the scenes to make my life hell. She succeeded, and in the process ended up with that face. I do take consolation in that.

[Guest TheOtherHalf]

Well I'm sure I look like Wilfred too, under certain lighting. I would just never allow myself to be photographed like that, that's all. So hats off to her I guess.

 

A lot of pain is coming up right now. I wanted to leave Glenn and become a prostitute. He apparently suicided. If he did, he did it out of shame. But I'm realizing fully that he felt nothing but shame with respect to me at the end, and probably a healthy dose in the beginning as well.

 

I sensed it keenly. I have internalized much shame and guilt and humiliation because my presence evoked these feelings in people. These years I have been robbed of almost every shred of my humanity. What little I have left goes to my cats and trying to deal with the problem of harassment and discrimination which has been given unto me like daily bread.

 

I came into this new awareness of my history at the absolute lowest point in my life. I think the reason could be very simple - that was the time I needed most to discover who I really am, and compare it to the feedback I get.

 

And who I really am has to do what whom and what I have really  loved, and in the end, it's the whats that stayed with me rather than the whoms.

 

All the joy I found in nature and art more than compensated for a very long time. But in an effort to get back into the real world, they have both taken a distant back seat.

 

Anyway my point is that I am becoming more and more aware of things that have been too painful to face in the past.

 

With each throb of buried awareness pushing itself up there's a contraction of intense pain. But I'm letting them go as they come up. There's no way I could have done that before.

 

I'm learning to process pain, and despite what might seem like dark musings here, maybe I'm getting faster at it.

 

I know there's more pain to come, and I'll try to spare you all going forward.

 

As for pimping, it never happens. I get to the point where I'm about to start packing, and the real crises avails itself.

 

But this is the show down I think.

 

And there has to be a link between his apparent suicide over my desire to become a call girl, and the fact that I have not been able to let go of that desire for all these years.

 

And it really looks and feels to me that everyone believes his suicide is my fault in absolute royal flush spades because I'd leave a nice guy like him to become a whore. Because I must be a whore.

 

Well that's the thing, I am not a whore. To base actions on that faulty premise is a travesty of justice and humanity.

 

Anyway, I'm coming back to my humanity. The pain comes up, I almost instantly recognize it for what it is, and I release.

 

Thanks for reading and for your interest.

[Guest TheOtherHalf]

An insight into why my sister came up in that post. She was born on Dec. 31, and I was born on Jan. 25.