On The Road Again...and Colombia Connection to Di

haahaa. another song that played was the reggaeton, "Gasolina". For some reason, after writing this title to the post I thought of being on the road and then Exxon and then gasolina. You know, random train of thought.

I'm meeting some interesting men, I think but haven't even kissed or been with anyone yet. I'm flying to San Fran. and maybe East and maybe Mid-West in the next couple of weeks, to meet some of these guys.

Someone out there will treat me much better than Exxon did. If Exxon did anything for me, it seems, it was with the idea he was getting a fucking green card out of it, to put him in better proximity with his Spanish lovers. I'm not going for the mind games. You either tell me the truth and make sure your story and promises add up, or get lost. And I am loyal and I expect someone I'm with to give me the same fucking respect.

I sort of wonder about Colombia in connection with Princess Di. Right after I was looking up landmine info on Colombia, I started meeting the Colombians. I saw her going there for vacation on YouTube and Exxon knew about it but was surprised I knew about it. He said, "How did you know that?!" not, "How DO you know that" but "How DID you know that." There's a difference. There is probably nothing whatsoever and I don't assume anything, but I wondered. He was probably just f-ing around with me because he drove me up to the Mine Bureau on NW 14th in D.C. when I was first with him too. But then he didn't want me to go there. And this was right when I was saying I was going to find out what was going on and do some research but not write about it anymore. And then I found out Colombia is a major producer and user of landmines. The individuals that eye-witnesses saw speeding away after running into or checking out the Mercedes, were of "mediteranean" descent or appeared to be something like this. You can use anyone of any nationality or ethnicity to do the dirty work though. There was a lot of mind game shit about Di when I was with Alvaro. Like the priest that was sitting next to me in the Panera cafe with all the English objects and memorabilia, wanting to talk to me right before I was supposedly getting an application of license to marry Alvaro.

Maybe some people want me locked up because of pissing off some people with the catholic church or some in the U.S. gov, but maybe others were a little concerned my intuitive guesses were too close for comfort.

Then again, it could have been something more straightforward as a plan that got screwed up. Maybe someone behind the scenes was sort of trying to help with something, but then again, that would explain my being framed and targeted to go to prison and all of the people coming out of the woodwork. When I go to the beginning though, I remember all the mind games which were played to make me think A. was this other guy, this Count of Transl. or whatever. And they kept hoping the deadline for getting my son back had expired. In the end, A. acted like he actually cared about my getting my son back, but he wanted that to happen on certain terms, with my admitting I was wrong, or giving in to others. He was always saying to lay low and humble myself and do whatever and then get my son and go with what I wanted.

It doesn't really work like that for me. When I was falsely arrested for "assaulting" Granny, I didn't agree to a plea bargain to pacify others and take the easy road out. I did what I knew was TRUE, and what I know in my case with my son, is that my son never should have been removed, and no one had grounds to do so, and I was slandered. Why should I just nod my head and go along with that?

Well, and Alvaro liked the photo of me making a peace sign and it seemed like he knew something about things that had happened to me and my son. I don't know if he knew it was others, or if it was part of a group he was with, because I know all the harassment and property vandalisms that were witnessed against me, in Wenatchee were like gang activity. It was happening in Oregon and then Washington so maybe someone in Colombia knew about it? I really don't know.

Also, it's creepy how he erased all the photos of me and my son and put the one of me sleeping on the cam. And he TOOK my clothing with him. I mean, it was him. I knew which items he liked and he knew which items I liked. He took everything, including the first white bra-panty set I had which he bought for me, and my favorite clothes from Bebe, and even my shirt that he liked which had a cobweb design on the front which he always said over and over that he liked. I had bought that shirt myself, with my own money, and he STOLE it.