Timeline of Events Before & After Poisoning

Because of recent events, including an attempt to poison me, I am including the following timeline of events.

The person I was staying with last night said this morning, “I wonder which way the wind will blow today.”

I said, “Straight up. Tornado coming.”

I have a teleconference today with my lawyer and I’m either going back to Wenatchee today, with or without bus, or going to be tested for arsenic at some other facility. I asked my lawyer to make a motion for continuance but I don’t think he’s done anything.

As for my own precautions since being poisoned, I was introduced to a man in Bainbridge, and a small group of people, and this man took me to a bakery yesterday. Because of concern about chronic tampering of my food, this is how I proceeded...

The man says he wants to take me a bakery he frequents. We go and I order the salad. Then, deciding against food that I can't see being prepared, I changed my mind and said I wanted one of the pre-wrapped sandwiches. I said this several times and yet he insisted they make me one fresh in the back. I didn't want a "fresh" one, I wanted one already wrapped in cellophane and sitting there for anyone to eat. I didn't eat it. I said I wasn't hungry but I asked the people to put it in a to-go box. The man said to leave it in his car when I was visiting someone else to see if I could upload some new information on the computer. I didn't put it in his car, I took it with me. That night I put it in the refrigerator and told him I was taking it with me on the way home, to eat on the trip. This morning the sandwich was gone. He said he'd decided to eat it when he got home, which was about 3 a.m. or so in the morning. I looked in the trash for any paper or food remains and there were none anywhere.

Paranoid? Maybe a little bit, but in a rational and self-protective way because I have no way of knowing why I'm being introduced and directed to certain persons. Some individuals, after thinking I've ingested arsenic, have instructed me to take Vitamin D for "energy" which, I later found out, is something that assists the mechanisms of arsenic. I took one vitamin D and then researched it and decided this was not something to do, so I later drank and ate things with higher levels of potassium and drank water.


Timeline:

I have thought I first met the monastery monks in 2000 or something but I think it was 1998.

I sold my house sometime in 1997 and quit my job to go back to college and I was taking community college courses at the time. So it had to have been 1998. I believe I went to PCC-Sylvania from 1996-1998 or thereabouts. I quit going in 1998 after the date rape by an acquaintance, and I was then 24 years old and had been a virgin until that point.

My boyfriend after this, Bryan, knew about the situation because I would cry all the time and had difficulties with intimacy. He was very understanding and knew everything that had happened.

I reported it to a health clinic because I was afraid I may have ended up with STDs. Several months after this, I came to grips with the fact that some counseling would be helpful and went voluntarily. I went to counseling but I didn’t report it to law enforcement until much later--a couple of years I believe.

I ended up going to the Mt. Angel Abbey library after this, because I felt more protected with the idea that the only men there were monks and wouldn’t notice me or be interested in me. My first visit was after attending a “Fire Rally” at a convention center in Oregon.

I met Christa Schneider, who introduced me to people who were, I eventually found out, connected to the justice system, the catholic church, and the Abbey attorneys at Bullivant Houser. She encouraged me to take up smoking, which I didn't do, and to go out to drink and dance, which I didn't do until I met her.

The chain of events, of repeated thefts and car vandalisms and other things began. I believe Br. Ansgar was a kind of hero with some of the filipino monks at the Abbey and they really hated me. Some, not all.

The first thing to happen was that I told Christa I was going to a Goodwill in Tualitin or Tigard area, and some guy stole my passport and my guitar and left everything else behind. Then he came into the store and took an "Alien" sucker because there were a bunch of Alien head suckers in the store for Halloween. This Halloween season was the first time anything happened. I believe it was 1999 or 2000 but police records would show.

I reported it to police and the man was tall and thin. I was already having some problems and had been warned by Fr. Joachim about how I should be quiet about things, but I went ahead and still communicated with them, and joked to Fr. Joachim about the Alien head sucker and he said he thought it was hilarious. I told Christa about it, I believe, and several others. The guy had made a point of waving it in my face and smirking. He wanted me to know.

The next thing that happened is that as my housemate in Tualitin was moving out, she had girlfriend's over from California and when they had left and I got back, all of my best sweaters and shirts were stolen. Everything I had at that time was from Nordstrom and new. I even had two jackets stolen--a crop carmel colored leather jacket and a long wool plaid orange 50s style coat. A favorite sweater of mine was stolen, which had been passed down to me by my mother, and was my parent's trip to Germany. It was a lightly marbled purple or heather and grey sweater with a distinctive button pattern from the turtleneck that went down the middle to under the bust and then crossed over the bust.

Other thefts in the past amounted to a break-in at the condo where my friend Monica and I were staying. It seemed normal. They stole a stereo-normal. That was in 1995 or 1996 after the auto accident with Mike. Then there was the being held hostage situation where the guy supposedly acted alone but was saying, "I have to finish the job" over and over. I had a favorite necklace which was distinctive, stolen earlier, I think right after high school, which seemed like a normal theft. The only thing not normal in high school was that someone tried to run me off the road on the way back from Robin Bechtold's house. It was raining, and a car came up behind and tried to run me off the road, and then took off around me around a corner. This was when I tried to correct and overcorrected and shot the station wagon up the guy wire of a telephone pole.

After my shirts and sweaters and coats were stolen, and it could have only been the guests, a maid, or possibly management, I had multiple, unrelenting incidences.

It seems unlikely that anyone could have taken all of those clothes without notice. A maid didn't come in without permission and unless she had a large garbage bag with her, it would have been noticeable. I had more of the impression that it would be easier for three women to add things to their luggage, but I can't blame anyone because I don't know.

After this, I moved to a small studio in Tualatin. When I was there, I had several incidences where an individual, a man, would sit in a car facing my apartment for large periods of time. I had concurrent car vandalisms at this time and this was when I started talking about love letters from Br. Ansgar and Marian dogmas and how I thought they didn't add up. I was seriously inquiring at first, but then after being threatened and harassed, I sent a few upset and angry emails over it. It was stress and I didn't react well, but I did hold up for months of this treatment and feeling betrayed by clergy whom I had truly come to love as much as my own family.

I think I've written about most of this in TTSOML posts, but I want to clarify and add some things. I've recently realized some new things and how they are connected and I think it's iimportant to put it out there, because I'm clearly not safe and I need some good individuals to look out for me and my son.

When I look back over the years, since this trouble began, Halloween has been a "theme" for some of the individuals harassing me. So when I begin to trace back, and think about the first odd significant thing that involved Halloween in any way, it was the theft of my things from a Goodwill parking lot and the guy with the alien-head sucker.

Some of the first car vandalisms were stupid things like someone tampering with the antenae on the car. Someone twisted it off and broke a few other things. It seemed minor but then this whole pattern continued. I took the car to a mechanic and they said someone was doing this intentionally. The first tire slashing that I remember was when I told Christa I was meeting some guy who worked at a Lake Oswego bike shop for lunch and I told her where and when. I got back to my car after lunch with him and all four tires had been slashed. It was an excellent neighborhood and no other car was affected--my own car had been targeted. I never saw that guy again.

The next time, I told Fr. Joachim I was going to look for work at a certain place and after the interview, I came back to find my tires slashed. The tow truck driver paid for my tire because he felt bad for me. I actually think this was maybe the 6th incident of car vandalisms because when I burst into tears, I remember telling him how this kept happening and I was running out of Triple A credit and money to make repairs. So he felt sorry for me and paid for the tire. I'm not saying Fr. Joachim had anything to do with it, but someone reading his email or intercepting his calls, or following me, could have done it. It was way on the other side of town and no one should have known it was my car.

Other times, in quick succession, my car was parked at the PCC parking lot and I came back and several times the battery was drained. It was a good battery and yet it was drained and I hadn't left lights on. A couple times I DID leave lights on but not most of the time. Then, when leaving the college parking lot, I had the radiator fluid blow up and start steaming and green fluid was coming out everywhere.

I took the car to a mechanic, a different one, who kept looking under the hood and saying there was no way it was an accident. He asked if I'd taken it to a mechanic lately and I said no. I had just bought it from a dealer and it was checked out with them and another mechanic who said it was fine and I was there and watched. So about a week or less later, it wasn't fine. He said someone had to have deliberately unscrewed or taken off certain parts that were off to cause this to happen.

This kind of thing kept happening. Some forms of vandalism were small and other forms more noticeable, like the slashed tires. I don't remember broken windows but that could have happened too.

I had a few incidences of blacklisting with work at this time as well, which I was told about and found out about. This was in Oregon. I also had people trying to cause problems with my landlords around this time. And, I had someone come into that studio apartment and steal one thing from it--A CD I had done which I'd only told a few people about. It wasn't my CD but I did back-up vocals on it and this was sitting on my desk and was the only thing missing after someone broke it. Just that CD and there were other things which could have been taken. This was still in 1999 or 2000.

I decided to move. I moved from Tualatin to Tigard to try to get away from the problems. The place in Tigard had an inset driveway and it was harder to get in and out undetected but my housemates and I had problems there too.

One housemate, Robin, said she thought the lock had been "jimmied" and it HAD been. We could hardly get it to turn. Some of my personal records were stolen. Nothing of value and there were items of value to take.

I was working for a temporary agency at the time and always had excellent reviews. Then, I got a job in Portland and I think they trashed me. I had told some people the most boring thing to do would be to affix labels all day. When I arrived, I was told all they needed was someone to affix labels. The woman asked me if I'd ever read "The Count of Monte Cristo". I had not. I got a bad vibe from her and although I did the work I was told to do, I got a bad review out of it. Then, a construction company I'd worked for two years in a row with good success, were contacted by Abbey attorneys and I was let go. They had been raised in catholic school but so what, and I liked them both and we joked and got along great. But after whatever the Abbey lawyer's people said, they would hardly return calls.

Not only that, I was followed, and that WAS something I at first thought might be my misunderstanding. But I began to test it. I would do U-turns to see if someone was following still, or I would go down an alley and see if someone would follow the improbable course and they did.

Finally, I contacted a P.I. who told me it wasn't imaginary and he fully believed me and knew this was what happened because he worked for the Archdiocese and couldn't help me, but he validated me. He said they did this kind of thing with their own clergy that went astray.

I told Christa I was going to hire a personal assistant to help me organize some records for awhile and that I was putting an ad in the Portland State U. newsletter. I was paying $15/hr. The woman showed up and put things in order but didn't want me there and said I could leave. I said that was alright, I'd stay and help. Finally, I thought she seemed dependable so I left her alone for an hour and when I got back she said she had to go. I paid her and tipped her and then checked my files and they were all out of order and some of them missing. These were all legal documents for the case I'd by then filed or was about to file. I had documents of being given citations which never showed up in formal offices, and I had a bunch of contact names and numbers of people who approached me to say they'd been sexually or otherwise abused. I was referring these people to lawyers. But the names and numbers were gone, along with some other important documents.

I later had the incidence where someone broke in and took all my medical records and nothing else.

I started having problems with medical clinics and facilities about the same time. At that time, the only connection I could find with any individual that did something against me was that they were catholic. I looked for all kinds of connections--family, clubs, hobbies and interests, work, and yet it was the same thing. I actually even tried to get assistance at a catholic counseling facility at Portland State University and they turned me away saying they wouldn't help me although they helped anyone else. I was never against all "catholics" at any time, ever, it was only that I noticed this. I also later noticed a few people who were doing the same thing, but were Jewish, but not many, and I would find out they knew the others. I know the Rabbi wouldn't take my call after I asked the IRS what to do about my taxes, but I can't imagine how this would escalate into anything important.

I then had a hit-and-run which was right after I told Christa I was going to look for work. She asked where and I said Safeway and she asked which one and what time I was going. I told her and then on the way back, after picking up an application, this guy rammed into my car and then looked me in the eye laughing and sped off. He was caught. I know it was coincidence but I thought it was odd he seemed to be glad about what he'd done. That was the strange part. He didn't look upset, or scared, or anything, he acted like he was happy about it.

I've really written about the rest of this already, but then it was the FBI introduction after multiple false parking tickets. Anyone can search in my blog for the TTSOML posts to read about this progression.

On one occassion, I noticed a black town car pull up to my apartment with two men in it, and I was sitting there recovering from my knee injury after the hit-and-run, and they were pointing me out and watching me for some time and then took off. The one guy looked very Italian, with longer dark brown or black hair pulled into a ponytail. It was a little bit odd. Another occasion, my good friend noticed a whole group of people were photographing me and him with their cell phones at an adjoining table. I started noticing people photographing me in Portland, with sometimes very large cameras with old-fashioned large lenses. I had no idea why except that I was in litigation at that time.

My medical records started to disappear from the clinics where they were kept. My CAT scan of my head went missing and no one found it afterwards when I tried to get it to see if there was evidence of the migraine pattern I'd been having, or anything else. But that clinic said they didn't have it. Other records were withheld from me, like when I went to the hospital for my knee after the hit-and-run and one X-ray was withheld from me. There were 3 view and only 2 views were shown to me. The 3rd one showed a new break, clearly. The next time I thought it was odd medical records disappeared was when my dental records all went missing, from a Cashmere office after I moved and I had to have new ones taken. It was a very professional office and they didn't know where they'd gone.

It was just one thing after the other. I told people ahead of time, 6 months before, that I was moving to Wenatchee. I wanted to try to get ahead there but the exact same thing started happening there. The car vandalism and other things were actually worse, and finally, documented by neighbors who have made the statements I've posted online. There were plenty of witnesses.

I told Christa that I finally tried to email an Ulster group in Ireland, not to join or with approval or because i was sympathetic, but because I thought perhaps they had, both sides over there, experience with this kind of thing or would simply believe me. I just wanted validation at that point, because it was too hard for most people to believe or swallow. So I told Christa and she freaked out and that's when the problems only got worse and I moved with my son to E. Wenatchee and we had all the health problems out there, and the computer hacking, and other things. I never actually talked to anyone, I just left messages saying I didn't know if they had heard of this kind of thing happening in the U.S.

I actually, just recently talked to an Irish woman, which I'll get to soon, who had family affected by the "troubles" and it was good to talk to her. I don't know which side her family was on for sure, because I thought it was catholic but she said they were the other side, later, but it didn't matter to me because I believe both sides did wrong to eachother. I don't condone harming anyone. I asked her how she thought they acheived peace. I am interested in knowing more about negotiation and peacemaking, and when it's possible. I also think there are groups which have been so discriminated against, they don't know what to do so they act out in a war fashion and I can understand, if all other efforts have been exhausted. However, I think there is always an opportunity for peace, somehow.

So then I tried to leave for Canada. While I was in Canada a couple took me and my son in for awhile. Bruce and Karine in Penticton. They were both raised Catholic. However, they reconsidered and then turned us over to police, when my crime was not leaving Canada as asked. I knew what would happen if we did--that my son would be separated from me and I knew this was not in his best interests and would be extremely traumatic for him, and it was.

I stayed in Whatcom county after I was sent to the border without my car. I had no money and my family didn't wire anything. I called but they refused. I talked to a lawyer who said it would be better to stay there and that going back wouldn't be good. That's also what the Canadian lawyers said, that Wentachee wanted to put me in a psych ward, and I believed they would, because I saw the documents which claimed I was "paranoid schitzophrenic" when I was not. The doctors there had already tried to do this and the mental health professionals refused.

So I tried to find work while I was still recovering from childbirth injuries, and I stayed with another Catholic family. I tried, but when Wenatchee found out where I was working, I found out the manager had ties there and I was let go. I was on good terms with my supervisor, who was Canadian, and she also left.

I then met Mike Carrili at a bar after I'd been writing about Christopher Hitchens. He invited me to stay with him and I did. I later got the feeling he was sort of trying to help and maybe sort of not.

I left for the East Coast when I couldn't get any kind of medical assistance in Whatcom county and the Judge hung up on me and didn't allow me to give testimony for Contested Sheltercare.

While I lived with these individuals, I ate what they cooked, and my periods were almost non-existant or dwindling.

I was then with a couple different people who allowed me to stay with them, and all were U.S. military. I got better credibility and it was pretty much known I was not mentally ill like Wenatchee or Washington was saying. I was also legitimized. However, I wasn't having my periods.

I was sitting at a cafe in D.C. after leaving one Navy guy's place, and I noticed a guy looking at me and it was Chris Dabney. He knocked over a garbage can and we started talking. He said he had a job for me at The Post Pub.

The thing that bothered me was when he said "here's another one in the hole." Another one of what? Military? Catholic men?

Things were fine for awhile and then people knew where I was working and I started having problems there at work. Customers coming in and making illegitimate complaints. I also became pregnant. There's plenty of documentation about that.

When I was fired from the Pub, I was also being told my son was being harmed. While I was still working there, torwards the end, I started meeting a lot of people from Israel. There were also some Russians that I met, and British, and a lot of internationals. But I was approached by people who seemed to be higher up in Israel and I don't know why to this day.

I started having theft of my workshirts and odd things again, from my apartment which I was paying for in Arlington, VA. I met people from Pakistan and Israel, which I thought was cool, because I knew their countries were sometimes at odds, but I didn't take sides or have a side.

Some of the smartest people I met there were bums. Or looked like bums. And taxi drivers. You cannot judge a book by it's cover. Everyone had a cover there, or an agenda, or some good deed to perform. It was exciting but also when things got interesting, a little frightening. You never knew who was who but I always felt I had credibility. I wasn't mentally ill to anyone and people there knew the realm of possibilities and what kinds of things happen.

One odd addition to my problems, was maybe that I started talking about Princess Diana but I don't "think" it really added to anything. A lot of people write about things regarding her or her case and ideas that it was an assassination, but sometimes I wonder if I was getting too close to something, or someone.

After I was fired from the Pub, I was working at a Latin American restaurant on 14th and approached by some people from Colombia.

I know now that I love Alvaro, but I don't know that he loved me. I sort of thought I was in love with Dabney but then I was falling for Alvaro. I still haven't been with anyone else, to this day. Some things don't add up but if I found out he was for me, I would still be interested in him. However, it seemed from the beginning to be more about keeping me from son, at least at first. Everytime I tried to clear my name in court, or needed to get something done for my son, the car wasn't available and I constantly had people trying to redirect me to something else.

I first met Carolina, who wanted me to wear the perfume "Alien". I didn't know what was going on but there were powerful people involved. Sometimes, I'd have to go to the hsopital and it seemed I was being prevented from going or the doctors were being told, aside, not to take care of me or do the diagnostics I needed. I can't say I was the easiest person to live with because I was in a lot of pain the whole time, and not as social as usual.

I was going to marry Alvaro and then the next thing I know is someone is trying to set me up to go to prison for a very long time. I didn't know who could have sent this person except Alvaro because Alvaro wanted to know exactly where I was going that day and then I met Pete Garrity who was asking me to marry someone for money and not even be with them really, and he clearly worked for the government. Finally, Garrity said to me I needed to go back to be with my son, after he has just tried to set me up to go to prison for a long time. That's after being asked about work involving transporting documents back and forth from Colombia to the U.S. I didn't know what kind of documents. Someone, Steve Blum, talked to me about "treason" and I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. I wasn't doing anything treasonous.

Mary was very prominent in the Colombian homes and it didn't bother me. I noticed, but it wasn't a big deal. I also didn't object to marrying a man who was Catholic. I was not the anti-catholic person I'd been portrayed as, or that I accidentally portrayed myself to be. If I'd had an issue with this, I never would have stayed with Alvaro and considered this and having my son raised with this religion either. It didn't matter to me which religion he was. He could have been Jewish, Catholic, Muslim, or atheist, although I did appreciate the fact he prayed to God. Later it sort of seemed he was interested in my being with my son. At first it didn't, at all, but later, maybe more. But I still didn't know.

I got to Wenatchee without Alvaro, and I was getting screwed over and defamed right away. Then Alvaro would step in and smooth things over. I don't know if it was just that he was a man or what.

Then he found out I had cancelled the papers and I started wondering who he was contacting on the side. I asked him to leave after it was pretty clear he was with Mykal and he didn't deny it then but he does now.

After he left, all the same crap started to happen again. At first it was just excessive and volatile harassment of me and people saying I was psychotic all of a sudden and drug seeking again.

Alvaro wrote and said he'd testify that I wasn't, but when I asked him to and to respond, he didn't. He let an entire month go by and it was always "take care. good luck. do you have your son yet? bye." He wanted to know where I was but didn't tell me where he was.

I had the bizarre situation happen in San Francisco with a bunch of rich brats getting kicks out of setting me up for the worst blind date of my life, complete with large lens camera's again. Lots of people with cameras and large ones, pointed my direction. I didn't get the feeling they were photographing the blinds on the windows. Totally bizarre.

Then I got to Seattle and stayed with a friend, Shannon Borg, and looked for work but I kept having people screw up my ability to get a job. I stayed in Wenatchee for a short time with the three guys and they were rats, talking about me, and ruining my evidence for my case to get my son, and doing other weird things.

After one housemate shocked me in the foot and ruined and erased my evidence, he got a brand new Game Boy and had a "birthday" when it wasn't his birthday. I wondered if this is some kind of new gang initiation. He didn't have money to spend on a new Game Boy. He barely had enough money to cover his own rent. I wondered what it was, too, that he'd used to shock me with.

Then I had some guys approach me when I was sitting outside of state offices for a visit with my son. They knew how to find me, I guess, because of when I went to the visits. So they brought up some Judge who used cocaine and I'm in deep s--- again. First I have someone telling me this and then coming back saying I'll be killed and he came back to say I should back off and I was going to get killed.

I had a pastor from the church I went to, the Brethren church with the Canadian pastor, tell me I wouldn't make it back to Wenatchee. Like, I wasn't going to make it, period. Then the guy I stayed with right before I left for my appointment, Larry, told me the same thing, that I'd never make it back.

After this, I tried to go to my appointment and was followed and it wasn't always good. Then it got worse because I had some horrible thing happen where it felt like the same thing used against me and my son in E. Wenatchee was used in that office. It caused very severe back pain. I was fine, I thought, and then approached by all these people, many from gangs, wanting me to eat this or that. I only had a few bites. They had Mary symbols in their cars and in the restaurants so I wondered if there were still people trying to harm me for this reason, some misguided idea that I was against the church or because they thought I was a "rat" in some way or had information I didn't have.

I was advised to get a protective order first. I did but I still didn't feel safe. I was afraid to go back. I was missing visits with my son but after I got the protective order I was staying at a hostel and then going back to visit my son and started bleeding rectally. Not normal. I ran into a bunch of people from Europe there and some were watching me very closely. I was offered private food there too but didn't take much. I wondered why the European people had any interest in me but some acted very interested, men and women.

I stayed with a man who was like an exact replication of Chris Dabney. Robert J. Reynolds. There was all this "13" symbolism and "7" symbolism everywhere. I was told I had to leave on August 13 and I left for Bainbridge Island and the 12th and 13th were the nights I survived accumulative effects of arsenic poisoning. I felt in danger on the 12th and then on the next day, I discovered the raindrop hypopigmentation that suddenly appeared on my arm overnight. It could have been that Reynolds saved my life, but I don't know if he was good or bad. I was offered a cigarette from that apartment complex when I left, which I didn't smoke. The Buffalo cigarette. It was longer than usual and had no brand.

I don't know though. THAT one could have been okay, if they don't have brands or labels directly on the cigarettes. I told the woman who pulled over and told me to get in the car, that the ones which would be poisonous would look like a normal cigarette, probably.

So here is what happened next. I'm at the hostel, and something there isn't squaring right. I got out. Then I'm with Reynolds and that night, on the 12th, I took a cigarette from a woman who couldn't leave the place fast enough after I started blogging about her next door, from the cafe where I was at. I asked her and her friend what kind of cigarettes they were and they said, "Marlboro Lights." The same brand Christa wanted me to start smoking, years earlier.

When I had that cigarette, I tasted a metallic taste but ignored it. I finished the cigarette and started having nervous system problems. I don't know if it was an accumulation of poisons over some time, or that cigarette, but I had all the symptoms of arsenic poisoning.

I was having all these bizare pains. No bleeding, but diarhhea and my feet were tingling and I would then have a burning feeling in my lip and then a buzzing feeling on my leg. My heart was racing. It felt worse than when I'd gone in to the hospital earlier with a heart rate of 134.

I had people watching me very closely there as well, at Sully's. I asked this man who wanted to sit next to me, Rob, if I could use his cell. I called 911 for an ambulance because I didn't know what was going to happen next.

It was the oddest ambulance call. The 911 people sounded normal, but then they connected me to ambulance and the guy stalled and stalled and stalled. If I'd been ready to keel over, I never would have received help, because he claimed he didn't know the address. I repeated the cross streets at least 15 times and then the actual number of the address to the place and gave the name of the bar. He just kept repeating things and then asked if I was was feeling clammy. I said yes.

Finally it arrived, and I stood there, and I saw the expressions on the two guys' faces when they pulled up. Not good. They were mocking me and when I said I had a metallic taste in my mouth, one of the guys acted HAPPY about it. I said I had decided not to go. They wanted me to get in anyway and I said, "No, I saw your expressions when you were driving over here and while you are acting more professional now, I'm not comfortable going with you." I walked away. I was walking away and about 20 minutes later, a truck is pulling up and a woman gets out and looks at me. Two younger guys are with her and all of them are very smart. She already knew who I was and called me "Cami". I was instructed that I was learning about cause and effect and the whole "ripple effect" thing. Then she pointed out a pocket in one of the bags and says I might want to check that one because there's something "kinda funny" in it. I later checked and it was the key that had been stolen from my jacket and somehow someone returned it and put it there, in a pocket of a bag I never used for the key. As she's saying this, a small plane was flying extremely low overhead and she points to it and says, "You wanna get in?" Then the other guy told her someone just took a photo and then I see some guy running across the street. Her ID that she gave me had the first name "Nanette". I couldn't make out the face on the card though. It was certaintly interesting that she knew about the key and had this knowledge but I was afraid because of the drug stuff and someone I don't know who knows me telling me to get in the car. I almost did, thinking how could it be worse than what is right now? But I didn't.

I walked back to the apartment and didn't know the key was in that pocket and I hadn't checked it out. I couldn't get in. I tried a few things but then I found the key and got in.

I was going to leave again, that night, but my housemate wouldn't let me. I was afraid to fall asleep and thought I might not wake up. I fell asleep and I don't know what happened while I slept except that I did wake up.

I was paid a little money for loaning some to this guy and given a few cigarettes. All seemed normal until I tried this one which seemed to have the same metallic taste. I threw it out after two puffs. I don't know if it was from the cigarette or just a moment where the accumulation was getting to me.

I took that small bit of money and took a ferry to Bainbridge Island. I got out and was at the Eagle Arbor Inn, where I was called "cat" instead of pat (by a Turkish man and his wife who is American. I asked them if they were CIA joking and they said no but had a friend who was) and I had called a friend who worked with the U.S. Nuclear Detection department in D.C. He helped me get a room but we found out it was at the wrong place. So I was going over to the Island Inn where I got a room and then I was blogging and my heart was still racing and I noticed my lungs were a little weird. Sort of raspy wheezy but I my rate of breathing seemed to be fine. It was very odd because my heart was racing, and the lungs were off somehow, but I was still breathing in and out calmly and at normal rate and it wasn't panic attack at all. It was then that I noticed the raindrop hypopigmentation.

Oh, while I was at the hostel, a couple of guys with English and Australian accents said something about "rats" while I was there. Not directed to me, but it was said.

When I woke after surviving the 13th, I felt normal. None of the odd sensations at all. Just the hypopigmentation on my arm and that was it. My memory seemed to be a little off but not bad. I read about effects of arsenic poisoning and read it can still work on the system after the initial survival of first symptoms.

Oh, the people at the Eagle Arbor place said their dog was nervous for me and knew something was wrong. They called for a taxi where I got a guy named Gary who had a red stuffed parrot that was new on his dash and a black and white cell next to it and a book about Chief Joseph. I talked with him for some time and he drove me to a pub which is the one he said I should get a drink at. It was there that I one shot and met this guy at the end of the bar who said he tested medical stuff. He gave me his name, Franklin, which was weird, after Reynolds had gone on and on about Ben Franklin and then I'm meeting this guy who is related to him.

I was later, the next day, walking past the same pub and a former waitress was outside and asked me to sit down so I did. She said she could find me work but it turned out not to be true, and she said I could stay the night with her at her hotel room. So I did because I didn't want to ask the other guy in D.C. for help again. She told me to sleep on a particular bed and said she left the T.V. on while she slept and that maybe I would absorb some information or learn something subliminally that night. I woke that night in extreme pain, especially to my back, and took a bath. Again, it felt like the same odd kind of pain that I'd noticed at the psych office and I woke up from it. It was a very deep aching and burning pain and still hurt two days later.

She said she was American but was 20 years in the Philipines with a Philipino husband who was catholic and she had his photo above her bed. When I got back into bed, the movie starting was Crow II. I got as far as the part where Tara the actress is gouging out the eyes of someone who has miraculous insight, and then kills her and takes her eyes so she can "see" the way she does. I turned the station to music and then later the woman got up and turned it back to something else but I was asleep. When I got up that next morning, my back was in very severe pain but it wasn't like I slept wrong. It was the exact same bed and mattress as the one I'd been on the night before, in my own room at the same hotel. It wasn't the mattress. Her name was Cheryl. She introduced me to some other people, one woman who works at the Calico Cat who told me I'd quit breathing and was choking. She didn't even know me at all and it was the first thing she said, with tears in her eyes and then she said she was from Texas. She didn't think it was a good idea to go back to Wenatchee right away.

Later I asked her what she'd meant by this and she said it was just psychic and had something to do with suffocating. I hadn't said but a few words to her that night though, and she said this.

I didn't want to stay at the same place so I stayed with Franklin who said he could give me $200 to get back to Wenatchee in time to see my son. But then he didn't follow through and I'd called the state worker, Kim, who was filling in for Michelle, and there wasn't anything set up.

The other thing I've wondered about, is if Chris and Alvaro are connected through something. Alvaro's friend Henry, frequented Archibald's, which is a place that Chris went to. It's a small town there. I have just wondered.

I talked to Alvaro last night and it was fine. It made me wonder about a lot of things. He believes me, about everything I told him.