tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34880361685014115822024-03-05T12:27:24.874-08:00Faster than the Speed of Life (CofA15)After being molested at age five by Father Horne-y, I kept going faster and faster for next 40 years. With my kind of PTSD, you never stop to see what caused the Frenzy to begin with.
Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.comBlogger135125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-47687742920947900152017-01-28T04:15:00.001-08:002017-01-28T04:17:09.958-08:00While I get old, instead of bemoaning aging, I'm embracing it.<div class="_5x46" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 11px;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">While I get old, instead of bemoaning aging, I'm embracing it. In the 1970s I was a hippie, in the ‘80s I dressed for success, being a single mom dominated two decades, and now I'm a little old lady. I have a funny hobble to my walk and my voice squeaks, I must look quizzical from the way people look back at me. My hair is receding and bright white, the missing teeth create crevices in my cheeks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I see other women my age doing cosmetic things to make themselves look young<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">er, I don't know how Hillary gets her hair that color. A lot of women get surgery, you can tell by the look of constant surprise on their faces. (And HD cameras make those surgically enhanced faces look horrible, which is to me, instant justice.)<br />Why fight it? Aging is part of life.<br />I get to make people laugh with a wisecrack when I goof up in public now. No one gets mad at an old lady who’s taking too long to get on the bus, try that in your forties and see what happens.<br />My home is so much more comfortable today than any other home I've ever had, because I spend so much more time inside it. I live in a small space, but that's perfect, because I can hold onto one piece of furniture after another as I hobble my way across the room.<br /> I don't know why people don’t like getting old, when you consider the alternative. I'm still here. I'm still alive and life as a human on Earth is still fascinating.<br /> I seem to be happier than I've been in years now that I'm just diving into old age and enjoying it.</span></span></div>
Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-42972745611864936822016-11-30T08:44:00.001-08:002016-11-30T08:44:50.990-08:00I am sick and will not be posting for a while.Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-14467434757377553772016-11-22T09:59:00.002-08:002016-11-22T09:59:40.931-08:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">have not participated in American holiday season now for years. Finally it is not something that makes me sad anymore. I am an observer, not really from here, and these weeks each year make that so obvious to me. So, a time to get packed, ready for next move, wait for hotels to empty out after Jan 1, then outta here. But it is a Major Breakthrough that I am not sad to not be doing the holidays, in fact I'm kinda proud not to be celebrating... how Jesus was born so you could go shopping.</span><br />
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Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-18490325597082777582016-11-17T05:09:00.002-08:002016-11-17T05:09:39.277-08:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I knew him, so I opened the door and he put his foot in the way like a salesman then kept shouting this loopy story about his woman stealing 19 hundred dollars from him "the Pipe" caused it, "and now I'm homeless." I kept saying, I have to work tomorrow, and he looped his story out again through a scraggly beard, holding a burning cigarette in the wind but still bringing a stale tobacco smell. Finally he got around to asking for bus fare, I poured my quarters into his hand, and he was gone. That's life in low income USA. Hope it's better where I'm going next, or I'll go somewhere else. And somewhere else. And somewhere else</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">*****</span></span>Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-91993659425981923662016-11-04T08:54:00.002-07:002016-11-04T08:54:19.899-07:00Raped Age 5 by Father Rucker, Her Life Was Chaotic and Reckless, Just like Mine<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuYFH8ereWJilRKq0v1kklTM9ZYbbkpHuTk6xKjMH8mQnyUMId0_N8NzYziED9JG2M7nsRpxYc-WO2faXCkpNiAdRlGI-oI9qFP1o01gGDmTgOOhmZaNr_cv191Dpef1fsgZuxp5ocKI/s1600/St+anthonys+church+el+segundo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuYFH8ereWJilRKq0v1kklTM9ZYbbkpHuTk6xKjMH8mQnyUMId0_N8NzYziED9JG2M7nsRpxYc-WO2faXCkpNiAdRlGI-oI9qFP1o01gGDmTgOOhmZaNr_cv191Dpef1fsgZuxp5ocKI/s200/St+anthonys+church+el+segundo.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Anthony's, El Segundo </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">By Kay Ebeling</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Examiner</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">April 17, 2009</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
(Reprinted after I found it at <a href="http://bishopaccountability.org/" target="_blank">Bishop Accountabilit</a>y, thank god, as Ebeling columns at Examiner disappeared after they fired me in 2010)<br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">There was so much pedophilia in L.A. Catholic parishes that when Fr. Rucker got to St. Anthony’s, he would walk into a first grade class, pick out a student, take her off into the rectory or even on the altar and rape her. A 6 year old girl, often with "giving of Communion wine." A legal brief on George Neville Rucker states that over and over he fondled her on her genitals, under her clothes, massaged her breasts and nipples, licked her, and penetrated her vagina with his penis. A six year old girl. Worse yet, he did the same to at least 23 other children, as 23 were able to come back as adults and file lawsuits in the Clergy Cases, during the one year window that opened in the statute of limitations in 2003 in California. A profligate sexual predator like George Neville Rucker likely had hundreds more victims, standard wisdom is that for every child sex victim who comes forward later as an adult there are 10 others whose stories we never hear. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Cindy Falter, the Rucker victim in the above case file, and I have become pretty good friends in the last two years, as we were both raped by Catholic priests at that age, 4-6, and today we share weird personality quirks as adults. I called her to tell her that in a hearing April 20th, the transcript of a deposition Rucker did with someone in Law Enforcement will likely be the last document from LA Clergy Cases 2007 to be ordered to remain sealed, which could bring the cases finally to an end. I asked Cindy about how she is doing today:</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">From interview with Cindy:</b><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Most of us are so f---ed up. I think there’s even a couple of Rucker victims that only remotely function. He would scratch crosses in my chest with something like a needle, like a sewing needle. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">ME: You said he would come in the classroom and pick you out</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Cindy: He’d call down usually, and would have me go up. But yeah, sometimes he’d go in there and he’d pick me out but usually he’d then go back to his rectory and call for me to come up from there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">****************************</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">He used to take me down these stairs in a St. Anthony’s church and school property building.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">***************************************************</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Cindy: When he did what he did, when he penetrated me, after that I had this repeated dream of being naked scared in a forest, blood between my legs. And the god Pegasus comes forward and brings light and he picks me up out of the forest and takes me up in the sky with his wings and I'm safe and warm. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I ran away one time when I was in kindergarten, and I realize now it was after Rucker had already started raping me. I was five years old and I ran away all the way to the airport. I tried to get on an airplane. When they asked me why I ran away, I said I was going to find love. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Cindy remembered the rapes at age five but there was no way to document them, so her civil lawsuit case files begin with the incidents when Cindy was in first grade at St. Anthony’s Elementary School in El Segundo.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Then after the settlements in 2007, Cardinal Roger Mahony announced he’d be glad to meet with the victims to apologize. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Her mom was there, and in tears she told Mahony about the times Fr. Rucker was holding Cindy age 4 or 5. Her mom saw he was touching her inappropriately, and the first time she ever mentioned it was at that meeting with Mahony.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So the first time Cindy had confirmation that indeed Rucker was even raping her at age 4 and 5 was in that meeting with Mahony. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">************************</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I ran away all the way to the airport. I tried to get on an airplane. When they asked me why I ran away, I said I was going to find love</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">**************************************************</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Cindy says:</b><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I took my mother with me to the apology meeting with Mahony, and she talked about Rucker coming over to bless the house and touching me with his hands in appropriate places.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Rucker said to my mom, She’ll be fine, and I remember him carrying him off. I remember I was reaching for her. He said, I'm used to little children and walked away with me in his arms. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My mom at the meeting was crying and crying, and she said to Mahony, I was so stupid because I believed in the church and I believed in the priest and I didn't believe my own eyes. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">But at the time of filing the lawsuit up to potential trial my mom still hadn’t dealt with it.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">He was coming to see me at my parents’ house for blessings of the house, and he got to me then. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I went with Cindy to her “apology meeting with Mahony and covered it here in Cardboard Carnival Meets With Plaintiff</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">One personality fluke Cindy and I share is running away. She talks more about her experiences:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Cindy: </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Oh God. [LAUGHS] God I don't even know how many times I ran away, so many. First time was at age five but I didn't actually get anywhere until I was 12 or 13 about 1970, 1971. I hitchhiked up to Northern California. I had a sister there up past Sacramento, I wanted to go live with her, but I got raped along the way. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Well, what happened was, the guy that picked me up held a knife to me and asked me to give him head. After it was over, I was afraid he was going to kill me so I rolled out of the car onto the freeway. I landed in the medium and then I got up stunned and ran across the freeway to the offramp. At the crosswalk up at the top, I passed out, because I had pneumonia. These two Navy guys took me to a clinic and got me medicine, then they took me to an apartment to take care of me. Then one day when I was feeling better, I went for a walk, it was a sunny day. I saw a guy watering his lawn with a Cheshire cat nearby like in Alice in Wonderland. I talked to him, he asked me in to smoke a joint, then he raped me. He tied my legs to the axle of his car in the basement, and when it was all over, I said, that was fun, let’s do it again, because I was scared he would kill me. I thought if I acted like his friend he would leave me alone. I went to get something to drink, he untied me, and he went to get me some milk, and I ran out of there butt naked down the street and ran into these people’s house and they called the cops. They arrested me for being a runaway. Turned out the guy was the Chief of Police’s relative</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">ARE YOU SHITTING ME? I ask,</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And then I realize</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I HAVE THE SAME EXPERIENCE</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My story as I start to tell it is so unbelievable, I see it in people’s faces, hear it in their voices, they start to not believe me. That's another characteristic Cindy and I share.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In fact we are probably friends for life now, though we come from different backgrounds and even different periods of time, we share weird personality quirks that we both think probably have to do with the PTSD reaction we both have. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Sexual trauma on a child implants itself in the brain and central nervous system, and affects the way you react to things. Just like all kids develop personalities based on the influences in their lives as they grow up. Cindy and I were both handled sexually by a priest at age 4 5 and 6 and we both lived chaotic lives, for her it meant always running away, for me it was always landing in situations where I ended up having lots of sex with lots of different men and experiencing the reality that gang bangs and prostitution is not as clean or as much fun as Lifetime and Showtime movies crack it up to be.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Movies that depict promiscuity never include the pain, the smells, the mysterious infections, the disrespect. But I'm digressing.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Cindy and I both have physical and mental weirdnesses, we both have trouble functioning, holding jobs, staying in one place. We both can tell you several escapades where we're not sure how we even came out alive. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Me, I went through life like Little Annie Fanny with brains. . . .</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Why it takes decades for child sex crime victims to report,<br /><br />Why sometimes they never report the crime at all</b><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">A lot of child sex crime victims are so screwed up growing up they don’t make it to adulthood, due to alcoholism, drug addiction, suicide. Others never remember what happened as children, all the way to the day they die. Repressed memory comes up often in sex crimes against children. Because we find ways to fantasize through the incident, and often the perpetrator scares us into covering up the memory. “If you tell anyone I’ll kill your parents,” that kind of pressure. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqhVQaIl0CYubZeghKGviYeCMl5PBWZ1kGlUDOujx73R5fdxDFH7aHiKgZPX6SMXTZrTy3F24b60mt_ZSmGfrvm3wejnVRIfUPsZJonHcXA5RFPE5AoTKChFlQfLY33mQmqjmtYCbwPY/s1600/rucker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqhVQaIl0CYubZeghKGviYeCMl5PBWZ1kGlUDOujx73R5fdxDFH7aHiKgZPX6SMXTZrTy3F24b60mt_ZSmGfrvm3wejnVRIfUPsZJonHcXA5RFPE5AoTKChFlQfLY33mQmqjmtYCbwPY/s200/rucker.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fr. George N. Rucker</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In my case I went through life thinking I had been visited by Michael the Archangel at age five in the woods, I still to this day see the silhouetted image, but I know now it’s Father Horne on our property on Lake Street in what was a rural region outside Chicago in 1953. All the way up to age 45, I thought I’d been visited by an angel, implanted with some special sexual thing, and I then took that sexual thing with me everywhere I went. I broke up marriages, left behind confused men and children, sexed my way across America, getting several venereal diseases, damaging my insides so bad I had to get it all cut out because the female body is not really meant to take in hundreds of different sized and shaped penises. To this day I have pubic pain that cripples me. . . .</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So I got off on a rant there, this is supposed to be a story about Cindy:</b><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The crimes of George Neville Rucker are phenomenal and he is just one priest in one parish, well actually he was in lots of LA parishes, one priest out of hundreds who were uncovered by that window of opportunity to file lawsuits in 2003 in California. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I asked, how are you doing today, Cindy:</span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Cindy:</b><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I'm just now getting some kind of control of my life. I’d like to say it was the settlement, maybe it made things easier, I don't have to worry about homelessness or where my next meal is. The money provides some mental health improvement, gives me a little more confidence, but it’s not the settlement, that didn't fix me by any means. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">What's helped me heal more than anything was going through the lawsuit and being vindicated, that I was heard. I was heard. Someone listened, and there is some legal recourse. I think sometimes that's why I drag it out the way I do, because I am not going to shut up until the right thing happens, which is these bastards need to be brought to justice. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Onward. . . </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Reprint: Originally published at site that has since been taken down: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">http://www.examiner.com/x-1960-LA-City-Buzz-Examiner~y2009m4d17-Raped-age-5-by-Fr-Rucker-her-life-was-chaotic-confused-reckless-just-like-mine</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Posted by Kay Ebeling</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Producer, City of Angels Blog </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px;">Not just L.A., the city of angels is everywhere </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px;">Hmm, I may just go look for more articles that were taken down from Examiner, as they are still in the Bishop Accountability database, if you search. After I take a walk along the lake, a few times... </span>Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-42235233954870009622016-11-02T01:27:00.004-07:002016-11-02T01:27:39.989-07:00<div class="_5x46" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 11px;">
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<span style="font-size: small;">Some things you never get over and it's foolish to try. So I'm trying to compartmentalize those memories, like Windows on a computer screen, let them go on in a little box down on the bottom. They'll always be there as the rest of your life goes on</span></h5>
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Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-46153936274215533722016-09-22T05:45:00.003-07:002016-09-22T05:45:56.286-07:00Purposeful Amnesia or Controlled PTSD <span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">I arrived in Tahoe with amnesia. I don't remember anything in my life from before March 2016. I have this job, work shows up in my email, and when I complete it they send me a check once a month. That keeps the rent paid. To get the jobs, I email back and forth with a woman in Burbank, but I don't know who she is, I've never met her.<br />Pictures keep popping up on my screen of a beautiful young girl who looks a lot like me, her name is apparently Lizzie or Elizabeth, bu<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">t I don't know who she is. Right after moving here to town, I had an ugly argument with a female that might have been her over FB messages, I don't know. The argument seemed to be the end of a long series of arguments that were very-very ugly.<br />I don't remember anything from before March 2016.<br />I also get email and items from friends on Facebook about the Catholic Church and pedophile priests. Those articles must have something to do with me, but I'm not sure what.<br />I don't remember anything from before March 2016. That's my way of dealing with the trauma, I call it controlled PTSD, manipulated and managed PTSD, purposeful amnesia to stop thinking about the horrible shit all the time.<br />Maybe that will help.</span></span></span><br style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">sigh </span><br />
<br />
Carried over <a href="http://cityofangels25.blogspot.com/2016/09/hillary-clinton-is-only-politician-ever.html">from CofA25</a>Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-23645398143674836802016-09-04T13:36:00.000-07:002016-11-01T10:49:14.226-07:00Mr. Good Bible update<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14208" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14209" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">I tried to go to Bible studies but files for my job keep coming in making me work those hours. Since I was age six, the first time they tried to kill me in the <a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/01/they-tried-to-kill-me.html">dump truck incident</a>*, everything in my life has been guided by angels. So I figure, if I've got to work, I’m better off making a little more money than I am going to classes where I may be exposed to dogma that, even though I look at it objectively, could taint my truth.<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14210" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14211" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14212" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Anyway. The problem is, I was also going to use those Bible studies as a way to meet people. So not giving up on them, still going to try the 12 week series on the Sermon that starts next week, just blocks from here. Just accepting that this is happening at a much slower pace for me than it would for someone else. I have to keep canceling potential meeting situations because of this screwy job that I do in a room at home by myself communicating with no one.<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14213" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14214" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14215" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">I guess that's god’s will for me.<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14216" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14217" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14218" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">It's also true that if too many people find out who I am and about my blog, things will get really uncomfortable for me, like they did in the last two places where I lived.<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14219" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14220" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14221" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">I guess I should gleefully embrace this isolation<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14222" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14223" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14224" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">Which includes every member of my family even my daughter<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14225" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14226" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14227" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">I spend the free hours I have wandering around and am grateful I've moved to a town where there is a tourist-y area, called "Heavenly" no less, the area around the Gondola, where people who are total strangers all walk about in a crowd.<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14228" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
</div>
<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14229" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14230" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">I fit right in. <o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14231" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p></span></div>
<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14229" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<br style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;" /></div>
<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14229" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14424" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14425" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; line-height: 17.12px;">*Dump truck incident <a class="" href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/01/they-tried-to-kill-me.html" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14428" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: blue; cursor: text !important; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;">http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/01/they-tried-to-kill-me.html</a> </span></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14436" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<br style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;" /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14510" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
happy labor </div>
Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-35860110028547368702016-08-29T05:53:00.000-07:002016-09-07T11:10:28.996-07:00Looking for Mr. Good Bible update<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472474817937_4210" style="font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">the Presbyterian church half mile from where I live is starting a class "Sermon on the Mount" in mid-September through November, and I am going to go from the first Sunday to as long as I can...</span></div>
<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472474817937_4210" style="font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm not going into the church itself for service after classes as they wear the same robes Catholics do, way too similar, but-</span></div>
<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472474817937_4210" style="font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Doing Bible studies around town </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">so far</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">has allowed me to meet people who think "Zionists run Hollywood" and who give way too much power to a book full of pages pressed out by old monks with an agenda. . . </span></div>
<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472474817937_4210" style="font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Looking forward to digging into the Sermon, but I'm pretty convinced Christ already came back, saw the abomination people are making of his word in his name and said, forget this place and left for another planet to try the experiment again. </span></div>
<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472474817937_4210" style="font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">we are on our own</span></div>
<div data-setdir="false" dir="ltr" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1472474817937_4210" style="font-family: "times new roman", "new york", times, serif; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-top: 0.1em; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">good morning </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">-----</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Since I
was age six, the first time they tried to kill me in the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/01/they-tried-to-kill-me.html">dump
truck incident</a>*, everything in my life has been guided by angels. So I'm going to these Bible studies even
though I may be exposed to dogma that, even though I look at it objectively,
could taint my truth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I am also
going to use those Bible studies as a way to meet people. So not giving up on
the classes around town, still going to try the 12 week series on the Sermon
that starts next week, just blocks from here. Just accepting that this is
happening at a much slower pace for me than it would for someone else. I have
to keep canceling potential meeting situations because of this screwy job that
I do in a room at home by myself communicating with no one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I guess
that's god’s will for me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It's also
true that if too many people find out who I am and about my blog, things will
get really uncomfortable for me, like they did in the last two places where I
lived.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I guess I
should gleefully embrace this isolation<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Which
includes every member of my family even my daughter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I spend
the free hours I have wandering around and am grateful I've moved to a town
where there is a tourist-y area, called "Heavenly" no less, the area
around the Gondola, where people who are total strangers all walk about in a crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I fit
right in. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
*Dump
truck incident <a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/01/they-tried-to-kill-me.html" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14428" style="cursor: text; outline: none;">http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/01/they-tried-to-kill-me.html</a> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14210" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p>
<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14213" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p>
<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14216" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p>
<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14219" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p>
<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14222" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p>
<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14225" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p>
<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14228" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p>
<o:p id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473000354644_14231" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"></o:p>
</span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
happy
labor day weekend <o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-87214046219811270962016-08-24T06:13:00.005-07:002016-08-24T10:54:49.930-07:00Triggers from Mr. Good BibleGlad I kick started this project under a new name as it is triggering all kinds of up-all-night thoughts such as;<br />
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: inherit , serif;">This is the
thought that is waking me up: God went to all that trouble to send his son and
put him through all that, to get humans to straighten up. And it did not work.
I think Christ already came back, saw the way humans turned everything he said
ass-backwards and how we not only returned to hate greed and deviousness but are doing
it in His Name. So Jesus said, "Forget this place" and went on to try
it again with his own son at another planet. We Are On Our Own now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
AND<br />
<br />
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: inherit , serif;">all you have
to do is put Christian in your name and a cross in your logo and you have
instant customers and profits, not what Christ was sent here to set up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
The post that I'm writing now is LOOONG and involves the Bible chapter John 20<br />
<br />
stay tuned<br />
<br />
<br />Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-59052618836657184922016-08-23T23:40:00.003-07:002016-08-23T23:40:39.782-07:00<div class="_5x46" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; line-height: 16.08px; margin-bottom: 11px;">
<div class="clearfix _5va3" style="margin-bottom: -6px; zoom: 1;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><span style="line-height: 1.38;">Just ran into a local Church of Christ guy I met doing Looking for Mr. Good Bible. He insisted to me that Hollywood is run by the Zionists, and I said, funniest thing, I've been working on TV shows and film pres kits since 1998 and have never seen any sign of that. He says it's true, it's all over the internet. Not going back to that church... onward</span><span style="line-height: 1.38;"> </span></b></span></div>
</div>
Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-27744379797363888642016-08-21T15:28:00.004-07:002016-08-23T15:30:07.437-07:00Preview<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Posts related to story coming soon</span>;</span><br />
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<br /></h2>
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MONDAY, JANUARY 18, 2010</h2>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="9150002559551622976"></a><br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="color: #1b0431; font-size: 18.2px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<a href="http://cityofangels2.blogspot.com/2010/01/watching-taken-brings-up-time-i-got.htm">Watching the film 'Taken' brings up the time I got kidnapped in Paris and they almost sold me to the Arabs. But I escaped thanks to a genuine miracle</a></h3>
<div class="post-header">
<div class="post-header-line-1">
</div>
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<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-9150002559551622976" itemprop="description articleBody">
.<br />
<em>I watched "Taken" and got sick for a week, then dug up this story from City of Angels 1</em></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>An Extended version first appeared here:</b> </span></div>
<h2 class="date-header" style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-size: 11.7px; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-transform: uppercase;">
SUNDAY, JANUARY 14, 2007</h2>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="2982333064082242125"></a><br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="color: #1b0431; font-size: 18.2px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<a href="http://cityofangels1.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-was-teenage-slut.html">A Miracle I made it through my teens - literally</a></h3>
</div>
</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I wrote it somewhere else. It's all related to a post I'm working on now, titled "Looking for Mr. Good Bible."<br />
<br />
-ke</div>
Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-92015684863079154362016-08-21T13:48:00.002-07:002016-08-21T14:12:48.741-07:00Looking for Mr. Good Bible<div class="_5x46" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.08px; margin-bottom: 11px;">
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">bizarre morning where i watched Spotlight, finally, for the first time, while waiting for a ride to a church bk I am writing a story for this blog, CofA15, "Looking for Jesus in South Lake Tahoe," which covers my journey to find a church I can stand in this town. Mostly for Bible study, as I feel a need to study the source of all this stuff right now. But for those who know my story, it is weird to do all this in one AM and to be honest, I could not sit through the service. will be writing a lot more soon both on what it was like for this very public and vocal pedophile priest survivor to finally watch Spotlight, and this project, Looking for Mr. Good Bible - still working on the title.</span></div>
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Posted by Kay Ebeling</div>
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Producer, City of Angels Blog</div>
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Not just L.A., the City of Angels is Everywhere<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="fsm fwn fcg" style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/kay.ebeling/posts/1081237168630909" style="color: #90949c; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" target=""><abbr class="_5ptz timestamp livetimestamp" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1471813827" style="border-bottom: none;" title="Sunday, August 21, 2016 at 2:10pm"><span class="timestampContent" id="js_7r" style="font-family: inherit;">Just now</span></abbr></a></span></span><span aria-hidden="true" role="presentation" style="font-family: inherit;"> · </span><br />
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As a person who does believe in something, not sure what, I almost laugh out loud though, when I hear people do prayer requests, I have to admit. I mean, if God is omnipotent, doesn't He already know Grandma is about to have gallbladder surgery?</div>
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Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-22920444138517559702016-08-08T17:25:00.000-07:002016-08-08T17:31:58.108-07:00<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>Background, story coming shortly</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/02/chapter-1-first-light.html" style="background-color: white; color: #956839; line-height: 1.38;">Chapter One</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 1.38;"> First Light</span><br style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b;" /><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; line-height: 26px;"><a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/04/ch2-thud-and-nipple-dress_23.html" style="background-color: white; color: #956839; line-height: 1.38;">Chapter Two</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 1.38;"> The Thud and a Nipple Dress</span></span><br style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; line-height: 26px;" /><a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2015/06/ch-3-considering-who-we-are.html" style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #956839;">Chapter Three</a><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b;"> </span><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b;">Considering Who We Are </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b;">ALSO THIS: </span></span><br />
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<h2 class="date-header" style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-size: 11.7px; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-transform: uppercase;">
MONDAY, JANUARY 15, 2007</h2>
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<a href="http://cityofangels1.blogspot.com/2007/01/timothy-leary-was-alive-and-well-and.html" style="color: #1b0431;">Timothy Leary was alive and well and living in Laguna in 1969</a></h3>
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Timothy Leary was alive and well in Laguna in 1969</div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b;"><a href="http://cityofangels1.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2007-01-21T10:13:00-08:00&max-results=1">http://cityofangels1.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2007-01-21T10:13:00-08:00&max-results=1</a> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b;">The story will continue here shortly</span></span><br />
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Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-24962861543320882982016-08-07T07:15:00.001-07:002016-08-07T07:43:35.982-07:00Coming Soon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I kept finding this note to myself around my office so finally opened that file and found a good way to get back into this story. So a post titled "One of the Last Times I had Sex was with Three Drunk Hungarians" is coming soon. It will hearken back to <a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2012/05/that-was-me-i-thought-as-i-watched-my.html">this May 29 2012 post</a> about Marilyn Monroe and me<br />
<br />
-ke<br />
<br />Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-20399849571538186542016-07-28T16:45:00.000-07:002016-07-29T05:29:17.539-07:00My Short Liaison with a CIA Guy<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">By Kay Ebeling</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Men sniff out women like me. I've always wondered if my encounter with Dave
(I don't remember his real name) had somehow been arranged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dave had an office at NASA in Houston in Building One,
a ten story structure where the Administrator of the space center
occupied the top floor. Dave was on six or seven. You got off the elevator and walked down bare walled hallways until you got to his office, where he sat at a government
gray desk. There was nothing on the walls, nothing on the top of the desk,
maybe a pen holder and calendar, but the room was barren. With windows looking out at a panoramic view. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">From here Dave was an “accountant” I think he
said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">From here Dave left on trips to mysterious places and
then came back and called me and we’d spend more time together. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The way I lived my life, that was a long term
relationship. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At one point Dave was going to be gone for several weeks, so he made special arrangements for us to call each other. By then it was obvious Dave was doing something
secret for a living. While he was gone this time, we held Looooong conversations,
sometimes I would call him back, I can't remember the phone arrangements, but
it was an unusual way to make a phone call.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A few weeks after Dave returned, I got my phone bill
and all the calls I’d made to him were listed on the bill, with no charge, and
the number called just said 000 000 0000 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All zeroes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By that time I was not dating Dave anymore as he’d
identified me as a risk to his cover.
When he came home from one of his trips, I was in his air tight bedroom
naked between his brand new high thread count sheets, and he was in the
shower. So just for the heck of it, I
looked in his closet and on the floor was this heavy woolen military uniform
with foreign writing on the sleeves and ribbons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dave emerged as I was staring at the uniform on the
closet floor. I asked him what it
was. He spit out the words, “It’s a
Syrian officer’s uniform.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I did not know for sure where Syria was at the time,
but I knew it was in the Middle East, so I said, isn’t Syria too hot for a
uniform like that. The coat was thick
and wool. He looked down at me and said,
It’s for going into the cold parts of Syria. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I cogitated on that, dressed, and went in to work, but
it really bothered me. So as I waited in
the tour guide office to go to my next assignment, I casually mentioned the
uniform on the closet floor to my boss.
She had served at an enlisted level in the Air Force, I think she even
had some intelligence experience. She
ran the tour guide office with the tyranny of a boss who was a smart high
school graduate, and I submitted to her authority. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She noticed something was on my mind so I spilled it
out, without even thinking. I told her
about the uniform on his closet floor and him saying it was a Syrian officer’s coat,
and just what strange a person Dave was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Within seconds, SECONDS, the phone rang in the tour
guide office. The boss answered, and
handed it over to me. It was Dave calling from his office that was almost in my
view there in the building across the walkway. His voice came stern and cold
over the line. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You weren’t able to keep that secret for five
minutes. I can't trust you with anything.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And he slammed down the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Any time I tried to call him after that, he did not
answer, he would not return messages, he vacated me from his life in that
moment, and I don't think I ever saw him on the LBJ Space Center campus again after that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Although I did not last
real long there after that myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But to this day I've
wondered, how did he know. Did he put
some kind of listening device on my clothes, in my hair, was he just guessing? Is there a "cold part of Syria"? The whole experience remains a mystery to me to this day nearly forty years
later. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">*****</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">I was so lost by the time I met Dave.</span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; border: none; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was working as a tour guide
then at NASA Houston for minimum wage. Three years
earlier I had graduated from The University of Texas and been hired as a public affairs writer-
editor with all kinds of responsible assignments and now I was still working at
NASA, but for minimum wage as a tour guide. It was around 1980, I had started
my climb down the career ladder but still had parking privileges in the lot
that connected Building One with Building Two, so parking for the main
administrative offices and our section, the Public Affairs department, which
housed the news room, the room where they mailed out photos of the Moon to anyone who asked for them, and tours for VIPs and the general
public. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That parking lot is where I initially
met Dave. I was getting out of the
Karmann Ghia I had driven from Austin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was this oblique bubble
headed character in the public affairs department who had been a civil servant
for three years, then blew it, but could not leave NASA, so stayed around as a
contractor for minimum wage conducting tours. I was so lost, so lost. And as I
got out of my car on the way to work that day, Dave emerged from his car very
close by and struck up a conversation.
He was handsome tall and fit, and me being who I was, I soon was
spending nights in his apartment in Clear Lake City. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A sterile place it was
where he lived, a brand new apartment complex where you had everything you
needed, a terrace, pool, workout center, all new appliances, all new paint air
conditioned from the moment you got up to the moment you slept again, as that
is how people survive in Houston, all the amenities at just a little higher
price and quality than average. Here
David lived in a one bedroom apartment that was furnished by Rent A Center or
some other anonymous provider.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I think often about Dave
for a number of reasons, especially in 2016 when Syria has become the focal
point of several battlegrounds across the Middle East. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">“S</span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">ome who had been fighting in various wars since the 1960s, told
us this was their fiercest combat ever. According to both Isis media and to
leaders of the coalition forces, there has been a notable increase in Isis
suicide attacks in recent battles. In September 2014 the US president,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/sep/28/barack-obama-syria-ground-zero-jihadists" title=""><span style="color: #005689;">Barack Obama, endorsed the declaration</span></a><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of his national intelligence director:
“We underestimated Isil [Isis] and overestimated the fighting capability of the
Iraqi army … It boils down to predicting the will to fight, which is an
imponderable.”</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jul/28/isis-hate-jihadis-recruits"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jul/28/isis-hate-jihadis-recruits</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Wonder what Dave was doing in Syria back in
1979-80 when I encountered him. Wish I had been more alert and trustworthy, I
could have found out more. Instead that was my Little Annie Fanny period, the
years when I conflated my sexuality with my brains to the point where I was at
top level meetings in directorates at NASA with my nipples pointing out and
didn't even realize it, thought the men wanted me around for my brains. Some of
them did. . . </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">*****</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is one other reason I remember Dave. He had this enormous hard long … penis. In fact, my boss knew about him from the week I had to take off because his penis was so long I had damage, had to rest in bed to recover from one of our nights of sex. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When I figured it out that he was working for
the CIA or some organization like them, and I considered that with the outrageous size of his
penis, I figured he must have been taking some kind of steroid for the job, and
an enormous penis was a side effect.
That's why I wondered if our initial meeting had been a setup to begin
with, because by that time people at NASA knew I was having a lot of sex, and
troglodytes like farm boy engineers who never left Texas often mistake women
who have lots of sex for women who like large penises. Or maybe my cavern had become so cavernous that the farm boys engineers were discussing it by
that time, so they'd lined me up with Captain Dave as I could accommodate him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You can see I still have little self esteem even
after all these celibate years. I missed
out on so much in my personal and career life because of my compulsion and the
distraction it caused. It did not matter
how good a job I did, no one promotes a whore, especially not in
1970s and 80s. I'm pretty sure if I had just not
been so screwed up, I would have ended up with a top administrative job at
NASA, as they originally hired me straight out of UT school of Communications, in a
program where you were guaranteed promotions and entry into mid level
management after just three years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I screwed that job up, literally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">On another occasion during that same time period,
there was a guy actually recruiting me, or testing me, for a CIA job. They told me after a few encounters that my
sexual behavior would make me a security risk, it gave me a vulnerability that
the enemy would be able to use against me and I could be easily compromised. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So like I said, my sexual behavior interfered with my
ability to have any success in life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In today’s world, as soon as someone saw my behavior,
they would recognize the cause of it and investigate where the sexual
molestation must have happened in my youth, because I was so text book- so was
my sister- of the sexual dysfunction that results from childhood sexual abuse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The guy who got to us back in the 1950s was a popular handsome Catholic
priest a celebrity in our small town outside Chicago. Of
course it screwed up my sister and me for life to have been sexualized when we
were preschool aged by him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A situation that has not yet been reconciled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Posted by Kay Ebeling, Producer, City of Angels Blog</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: dotted windowtext 3.0pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">Not just L.A., the city of angels is everywhere </span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-60076843258836357862016-05-17T05:26:00.000-07:002016-05-17T05:42:17.593-07:00Serendipity <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOxgNAzqBbAduNRV4TQ1QgYWt5oY7-fPLDwIYBZRsB_MDo2dCkP1a0lzFRRAByBLN_MHSni_vtEFXDo-KDfwDOzs_mRyx4uFiPLvGIGmg-fRZGVq-8kYDz4b4UfKk4fa0PokjPW1GT-k/s1600/lake+tahoe+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOxgNAzqBbAduNRV4TQ1QgYWt5oY7-fPLDwIYBZRsB_MDo2dCkP1a0lzFRRAByBLN_MHSni_vtEFXDo-KDfwDOzs_mRyx4uFiPLvGIGmg-fRZGVq-8kYDz4b4UfKk4fa0PokjPW1GT-k/s200/lake+tahoe+image.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After Lana almost burned
down the building, I was about the only friend she had in the senior complex. From the time the tenants gathered outside
watching them fight the blaze, the ladies were whispering that Lana (not her real name) was at
fault because she had been drunk at the time of the fire, drunk the entire week before, in fact. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I wasn’t critical of
Lana's drinking, I just wished I could keep up with her. Now she sat on top of an unpacked box in
my living room office admitting that because of the fire,
she'd probably have to move. She was
worried about where she'd go, rents being so high in Los Angeles, even as far into
the desert as we lived. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Taking on the persona
of friend, I said that even after her apartment was refurbished, if she continued to live there, the gossip would make her so uncomfortable she'd still want to
move. I had barely been able to go to the mail room myself since word got out among the mainly
fundamentalist Christian aparment dwellers that I'm a pedophile priest victim
who wrote as a journalist on the topic. Now almost no one in the building spoke to me anymore
except Lana. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I suggested: "You
should move to a place where people won't mind that you like to drink," being
my usual blunt self. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She shook a bit and
said, Yes, I do like to drink. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I said, there must be a
town in California where drinking and partying are part of the culture, someplace like Lake Tahoe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was sitting at my
desk at the time, as I always am, the laptop having become an extension of my
hands that I'm attached to nearly twenty four hours a day, disconnecting only when
I pry myself out into town.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So I said to her, you should
move to Tahoe, and we turned to my laptop and went to Craigslist, where I discovered that apartments in
Tahoe were about the same price as in Lancaster where we were living. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I had said to her, You should move
to Lake Tahoe. But after reading the Craigslist ads, I said, "Better yet,
I should move to Tahoe."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And that was that- Lana started
the fire in January, I was moved out in March. She still lives there, drinking enough to not notice the gossiping neighbors <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I've lived in South
Lake Tahoe a little over a year now and lucky for me it's the kind of town where
you can live in a state of serendipity, like the one I've been in all my life. I finish work in this living room at the same desk as in Lancaster, walk out the door, catch the bus, and from there on it's Serendipity what I'll do with my day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I've lived my whole
life in a state of Serendipity. For
example when I found out in 1994 that there are others who were raped by
priests as children, and somewhere in the Bay Area was a support group that does
activism about the topic, what did I do? I packed up Lizzie and me from a wonderful
two bedroom apartment in Eureka where we were almost putting down roots, and
shipped us to San Francisco in search of SNAP. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Chaos and anarchy
replaced serenity from then on in my daughter's life and I am forever sorry for
that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">However, I go to Lost
Coast Outpost now and then to read the headlines, though, and do not miss
living in Eureka at all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">South Lake Tahoe is a
great place to live if you are, like me, a little old lady who wants to be in a
metropolis, but does not like the way cities have developed in America. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I go out every day-
except when I'm too wiped out and exhausted which happens about twice a week-
and because of my job, I never know what time of day I'm going to be able to
get out the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Chaos and instability
are written into my life. When I wake up around midnight every night, I go to
my email. Often it is not until then that I know what my schedule is going to
be the next day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Now I've arranged it so
I live less than a block from a bus stop near the boulevard. I'm surrounded by trees and recreational
vibes here in an apartment in South Lake Tahoe, but I can catch a city
bus that goes up and down the boulevard a block from home and get anywhere in town.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Of course the bus does
end up in the traffic and boy is there a lot of traffic on Lake Tahoe
Boulevard. I may get a bike soon so I can
even avoid the bus, take the back roads, even venture onto the trails. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes, a bike, I need to
get a bike next. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Serendipity </span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">---</span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-ke</span>Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-72451247474908588082015-12-16T11:19:00.003-08:002015-12-16T11:19:47.648-08:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17.5636px;">It's amazing how a pedophile priest can destroy the family dynamic, even among members who agree with you that it happened and was wrong, even after a lawsuit is settled. Somehow just having the issue in the family is like a cancer, a virus, that grows and destroys everything with which it comes in contact. At least that's what happened in my life.</span><br />
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Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-10829389002653458532015-12-12T10:26:00.003-08:002015-12-14T17:44:03.132-08:00How my sister Patricia Vestey and a pedophile priest screwed with my life<i><span style="font-size: large;">Will probably add another chapter after what she pulled on me last week. </span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/02/chapter-1-first-light.html" style="background-color: white; color: #956839; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 1.38;">Chapter One</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 1.38;"> First Light</span><br style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: #fff3db; color: #29303b; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2014/04/ch2-thud-and-nipple-dress_23.html" style="background-color: white; color: #956839; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 1.38;">Chapter Two</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 1.38;"> The Thud and a Nipple Dress</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://cityofangels15.blogspot.com/2015/06/ch-3-considering-who-we-are.html">Chapter Three</a> Considering Who We Are </span><br />
<br />
-keKay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-19035578098120147782015-10-09T14:49:00.001-07:002015-10-09T14:49:40.959-07:00<i><span style="font-size: large;">still too sick to work on this. Sigh </span></i>Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-76203558612218536622015-09-20T17:00:00.002-07:002015-09-24T02:59:11.000-07:00Have to get back to this story have a file half finished, it is LOOONG and coming soon but <div class="clearfix _5x46" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.864px; margin-bottom: 11px; zoom: 1;">
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i have this weird malaise, so tired, pain everywhere, wonder if others in our little crime victim universe are having same experience as Pope arrives and corporate media goes gaga. mind-body connections are not easy to control even if you are conscious they are going on. Grateful for our times. Imagine what being shut in and sick was like before Netflix et al...</div>
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Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-448169560772372822015-09-15T08:10:00.001-07:002015-09-16T05:08:11.447-07:00Dang PTSD. I didn't make the stuff happen, I didn't want it to happen, I just get to live with the dang repercussions the rest of my life.<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">So glad I can finally type again, not
great, with this cast on i have to be careful, but typing, so I can write about what
happened when I fell and broke my wrist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I had a PTSD reaction and I've spent the
past week trying to figure out why. It finally
hit me that the trauma of breaking a bone, and the connection of the nervous system
to everything in your body, could have triggered the emotional episode I had. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I was alone when I fell and had no one
to call for help. My involuntary isolation
has been dominant in my life now for so long, then to have this experience, it
made the fall so much worse to be alone and have no one to call for help. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">So when I went outside next day in my
homemade splint and ran into a neighbor, one who I thought was becoming a friend,
and he told me that the evening before people from the building had gathered
around the barbecue and it had turned into a spontaneous party. This while I had been in my room in tears
after going out and spending four hours out at a place and not talking to one
person. (My apartment is the only one that does not face the front, so I could
not see from my window that a party had developed.) </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I freaked. It became a situation where they were all against
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">And it ticked off a PTSD episode that lasted
a couple days running and running this stuff in my head about me being left out
of things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I'm trying to find the connection. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The woman who stole all that money from my
dad, and probably caused his death, used that technique. She kept the rest of us out. Twice lizzie and I were packed to go visit
and we'd get these mysterious phone calls from her saying, "Don’t come,"
for some illogical reason that I had no way to contradict. I later found out she did the same thing to
my sister when she planned to come visit.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Then after his death when she was
determined to keep me from finding out what she did, she had said to me, "I
have now joined the rest of the family and become a member of the I Hate Kay
Club." She repeated that then to me
several times. "the I Hate Kay Club"
convincing me that everyone in my family was in the club with her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">When I start to tell people the story of
my life, I see their eyes glaze over when I get to item two or three. They stop believing me. I probably wouldn't believe me either. What kind of karma do I have that I've had
decades - DECADES - of bad experiences, each of which would make a Lifetime two-hour
movie on its own. People don’t believe this
much can happen to one person, but <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">I was raped by a priest when I was five years
old. He dumped my sister when she turned nine and got too old and he started on me. He got to us by banging my mother. The whole sequence of events apparently skewed my life and indirectly my whole family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">Go figure</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">For example, thinking about going to the place in story below for help when it is connected to an Archdiocese with all those buildings and priests walking around, one a molesting one - </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">Got Me Sexually Aroused. </span></span><br />
<br />
<h3 class="entry-header" style="background-color: #dfddbd; color: #333333; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', georgia, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18.2px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<a href="http://www.keyc.com/story/30024081/clergy-abuse-victim-abuser-want-to-create-resource-hub" style="color: maroon;">Clergy abuse victim, abuser want to create resource hub</a></h3>
<div class="entry-content" style="background-color: #dfddbd; color: #333333; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', georgia, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 18.2px;">
<div class="entry-body">
MINNESOTA<br />
KEYC<br />
ST. PAUL, Minn. (AP) - A woman who was molested by a nun is teaming up with a priest convicted of sexual misconduct to create a resource hub for victims of sexual abuse.<br />
The St. Paul Pioneer Press reports (http://bit.ly/1Nz5vQW ) Susan Pavlak and Gil Gustafson are raising funds with hopes of buying the chancery building of the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis. The building has been assessed at $6 million and is on the market as part of the archdiocese bankruptcy proceedings.</div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">That's how screwed up I was in the beginning, still am, and will always be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">-</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">Kay Ebeling</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">Producer, City of Angels Blog</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">The City of Angels Is Everywhere</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">*</span></span>Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-69068596895975595932015-09-06T11:35:00.001-07:002015-09-06T12:56:10.369-07:00Worst part about being a pedophile priest victim seeking justice. (More from 2013 journal, Chicago)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Read
a quote in a news story about St. Peter Damian Church from
2002, when two former priests at my perp parish, were removed from ministry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
parishioner says, ‘It hasn’t shaken my faith,’ or something to that effect. Here I am eleven years later reading that in the archive
at Bishop Accountability thinking, ‘Good for the parishioner’ then I realize, that's the worst part about being a pedophile priest victim seeking
justice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
bad guys are connected to the parishioners at way too high a level for me to reach them from down here on the ground. That's why it did not work when I went to the Church here trying to find other victims of Father Horne. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Even I don't want to interfere with a person’s faith. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">That
one small town church housed three pedophile priests, including my perp Father Horne-y,
the parish founder. The 2002 article was
the one and only time that Bartlett parish outside Chicago had been in a pedophile
priest news story, when Bernardin removed 20(?) priests all at once in one week. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Makes me so conflicted myself,
can’t imagine how conflicted it would make a person who was inside the bubble
of prayer and total belief when confronted suddenly with the harsh truth of
pedophile priests. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">So now they all get to go on with
their faith, in bliss, while I'm on the outside with no foundation at all. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">To
me Catholics are attractive zombies. I wish I could be one of them. That rote repetition of gospel twisted in
with thousand year old religious tract seems like something I too would like to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">But
I can’t. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-68406009021923514332015-09-06T09:34:00.002-07:002015-09-06T09:35:42.145-07:00<span style="font-size: large;">"The ones who seem not to be counter agents are actually the ones who are counter agents. Or both!" <i>(Quote found in 2013 journal to be used in future post on how paranoid I got doing CofA Blog)</i></span>Kay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3488036168501411582.post-67739192781775518002015-09-06T09:18:00.003-07:002015-09-06T11:52:53.810-07:00Perennial Other-Ness<span style="font-size: large;"><i>More Stuff Found in Old Journal</i></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">January 22, 2013 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Once again my strangeness compared to the rest of the world is
rubbed in my face by one of my loving neighbors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">I'm at Mikey’s house having a smoke and he comments that I seem to
be a person who has been through a lot. Out of my mouth pops the story
of when I was raped by nine Shasta Indians and left for dead in the woods on
their Northern California reservation in 1970. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">About halfway through my story I realize that the other person in
the room, Mike’s latest flame, has very blank eyes as she stares out at
me from behind thick glasses. Still I feel
a need to keep talking, so I continue the story. I was a naïve and entitled
upper class hippie girl who hitchhiked to an Indian reservation, camped by
their river, and swam in the nude in the middle of the day. I ended up being gang banged by nine drunk Natives one night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">It was my fault, I say out loud, trying to elicit some feeling from
my listeners but now both Mike and Flame are just staring at me. I want to add that I finally escaped the
Indians and made my way down to Highway Five where I was picked up by a couple
from Oregon, then, continuing my total sexual dysfunction, I ended up in bed with the husband, while I was staying at their
home recuperating from the gang rape by nine drunk Indians. When I saw the blank looks on their faces, I
realized I had to leave out that part of the story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Everything about me is so way out there, no wonder I have only a
handful of persons who I can even talk to now as I near age sixty-five. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
-<br />
Posted by Kay Ebeling<br />
Producer, City of Angels Blog<br />
The City of Angels is Everywhere<br />
<br />
<b>Post Note: </b><br />
<br />
The sexual dysfunction was the result of being molested by a priest when I was five years old. I write these posts today to document how these crimes by the Catholic Church who kept these men in office, messed with the lives of victims like me.<br />
<br />
Thing is, when the Indians entered my camp site, at first I wanted to do it.<br />
<br />
-keKay Ebelinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13753284586265566961noreply@blogger.com0