Wondering About Gangs In Wenatchee

I was still getting my migraine last night. I smoked a little bit more to get it to quit but had to go home after the debate. I think I slacked in smoking when I didn't get the first migraine--so I thought I must have enough stored in my system to prevent the next one.

I should mention though, yesterday when I had to smoke right before work, I did think later, it must have affected my memory. Because I took a drink order which is usually no big deal, and I had to go back and ask what they'd ordered. For me, it definitely affects my immediate short term memory. Other than that, besides sleepiness or occasional munchies, it doesn't seem to have any ill effects or side effects.

The benefits outweigh the risk because I was able to continue working. The migraine went away, even though my memory was affected a bit. Then, last night, before I went to see the debates I smoked, and then I had a Petron Cosmo and I could NOT, for the life of me, concentrate on the debates. I was staring at the screen with info going in one ear and out the other, and spacing off about this guy, and noticing people in the room. I was totally unable to focus. I was told, these sorts of affects could have been from the pot-strong liquor combo and I think it must be true.

The other thing I noticed, which may or may not be right, is enhanced appreciation of flavor in food? Because suddenly, that glass of chardonnay I had, right after the Cosmo and endame, was the absolute best glass of white wine I've had in years. And probably, since it wasn't a wine bar or anything, it wasn't even that great. But it turned me into a wine lover. I have never had a glass of wine where I could not only taste the "bouquet" but see it in living color (and I was NOT on shrooms). I don't know how to describe it because I don't know much wine vocab. But it was very full and fruity, but not tart, sort of smooth in a way. I have no clue how to describe wine. But I started thinking maybe it was the pot.

So, we hung out for awhile and then I went home because I was getting a rebound migraine and just needed to sleep. I took a little pot a half hour ago because it was there a tiny bit. Not much, but a little. I hate how it makes one sleepy.

I started this morning with "Umbrella" and "The Little Things" and in the last hour, "Maria" by Carlos Santana. I heard it at work the other day and it took me back to a summer before things went from bad to worse. I hosted my cousins and their friend to stay with me in Oregon for a week or two and we went around town and did things. I was involved with the monks by then, but it was before things went bad, I believe. And it was before my house kept getting broken into and cars vandalized. I still had all my cute clothes from Nordstrom, and my caramel leather jacket. Got a photo of me, my cousin, and his friend (who was, I think a gangster in Wenatchee--before I moved there). I realized later because I took a class in juevenile justice at Portland State and people talked about identifying gangs and I looked back on the photo and saw them. The numbers, the shorts, colors, and way the hat was worn. Never even thought about it before.

His favorite song was "Maria" and we played that one, over and over and over, along with a lesser known Whitney Houston tune, "Your Love Is My Love". "Maria" was definitly the song of that summer. I don't think I've ever heard a song more, in the car.

Now I listen to it and wonder about everything. What gang or gangs were involved with harming my son. What the motive was and who did it. I think about my own eventual involvement in finding out about Wenatchee and how there is a drug circle that goes through the justice system there. I was told, by a reliable source, that one of the Wenatchee judges bought cocaine from a dealer, and a probation officer as well (and here they are slapping the hands of convicted drug guys), and I think about how I told Wes, with the FBI and how he didn't bat an eye and seemed to defend the judges more than anything else.

I think about the car vandalisms after what happened with Dr. Butler, and how, after my son and I were being constantly exposed to something at our house, when we went to McDonalds (we hadn't been able to get out of the house for a month because my car was broken down and there was no bus, so the times things were happening, we weren't able to get out. As soon as my car was fixed, I planned to leave the country with my son).

...anyway, how, once, at McDonalds, right before Christmas, a huge group of hispanic guys, in 3 different trucks and SUVs, came in and sat down and just watched me and my son. There were about 10-15 of these guys. They started making faces, one especially, who imitated "twitching" like I'd been complaining to my doctors about. I was also documenting things on my blog about the twitching. So I assumed they were reading my blog or were familiar with it. The guy would twitch dramatically and then laugh and shake his head looking at me, with all his buddies staring.

I gathered my son, got up from the table, and walked directly over to him. "Do you have kids?" I said. I said it firmly, looking him in the eye. He stopped and all the guys just froze and looked at eachother with discomfort. I wait. He said, with a toss of his head, "Yeah, I do." I didn't say anything back, just nodded curtly and firmly, and then walked out with my head held high. I said this because I thought if they had anything to do with what was going on, they could look me in the eyes, and I wanted them to think about their own children, if they had any. I didn't really think they were a part of it, but perhaps just reading my blog. Still, why would THEY be interested in my blog?

They piled out and got into their cars, and were whispering to eachother, some looked very nervous, and then they'd look over at me. I think they didn't expect me to notice how they were mocking me, or to do anything about it. But I stood up for myself, and I stood up for my son.

The problem was, when this stuff was happening to me and my son, we had nowhere to go. We were isolate in the country and I didn't have a roommate who could speak enough to testify what was happening was true. This all happened from the fall, towards the end of fall, into Winter when it was cold. My car broke down twice and I couldn't afford to have it fixed. In the meantime, my family stalled on getting it fixed and we were simply stuck out there. There wasn't a bus. We lived in the country. There was a lot of slow.

We were sitting ducks.

When I get to more of the details of what exactly was happening, it does confuse me a little bit. There were a couple of different things going on there, besides the constant computer problems.