Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Aliss Blanton met her stalker while she was a waitress at Hooters. (First of all, I want to address something for those of you who have never set foot in a Hooters Restaurant. It is not a strip bar. It is a family restaurtant. I would take anybody to Hooters and not be embarrassed. If the Lord decided to come while I was eating fried dill pickles in Hooters I would have a completely clear conscience. But none of that should matter. Even a stripper doesn't deserve the hell of a life that comes with being stalked.)
She changed jobs to get away from this man. He followed her. She moved to another town. Still, he followed her. She got married. He then harassed her husband as well. This man showed up at their house. He once blocked her car at her new job so she couldn't get out, proceeded to walk up to her car window and screamed at her through the glass.
She had 72 pages of e-mails and letters. She documented every single time he'd been to her house, her workplace and other places he'd tracked her down.
Yet, according to Florida's protective order laws she didn't have enough to prove he was an actual threat. Instead, the judge set a date two weeks later to review the evidence to see if there was 'enough' evidence that she might be in danger. Her stalker was then notified that on February 16th there would be a hearing. He ended it before that happened.
What most people don't know is that while, yes, there are anti-stalking laws in place in all 50 states, those statutes are absolutely worthless if you are being stalked or harassed by a stranger, friend or acquaintance.
In other words, here in Virginia, you can get a restraining order against your husband, your cousin, your children, grandparents, any blood relative or anyone that you've ever been married to, lived with, or had a child with. Your next door neighbor or anyone else for that matter can drive you absolutely crazy and there's not a thing you can do about it.
The other states that are more liberal with their protective orders only hand them out if the person has already done harm to you.
Someone made the comment to me that I should be happy it's hard to get a protective order in Virginia. You see, my stalker was a woman who wanted to become her victims. She mimicked their life. Everything from dressing like them to buying the same vehicle, following them to the places they went. When she could not take over their life or become them she would destroy them. Many times this meant trying to make herself out to be the victim. Telling neighbors, police, any one who would listen that she was the one being stalked - by her victim. It's called False Victimization Syndrome. It's related to Munchausen by Proxy - you know, the women who harm/kill their children because they need that attention that comes with having a sick/deceased child. These people are psychotic and they are dangerous. I'll talk about this more in length at another time.
Yes, of course I am happy that this sick person was not able to get a restraining order. When I saw what she was trying to do, though, I was able to take steps to protect myself. I'll also go over that in more detail at another time. Everyone needs to know what to do to protect themselves.
I'll stop for now. But my next post will be about the different types of stalking. If I can help ONE person, just one, it will be worth it.
Someone I know who is an expert on the False Victimization type of stalking told me I should dedicate my life to educating people and lawmakers about this type of harassment. I have to tell you that I'm tired. I am so raw after writing my book, and having to go back and do edit after edit, and delve back into that dark time that I never wanted to give this subject a place in my life ever again.
I am now rethinking that decision.
Please feel free to ask questions or make comments. If you or anyone you know has ever been a victim, please share your story.
Until next time,
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Funny, now when I look in the mirror I see the strong resemblance between myself and Anne. That should bother me, but it doesn't.
Friday, February 12, 2010
After the sermon I made my way up to say 'how do you do' to Miss Wray and introduce myself to her friend. I gently made my way through the crowd until I arrived at Wray's side. By that time she was talking to someone else so I walked around and extended my hand to our visitor.
When I came face to face with Miss Julia I was absolutely mesmerized. Here before me was a woman old enough to be my grandmother and yet her beauty rivaled that of a women in her twenties. Not only was there not a hair out of place, but her makeup was flawless. Her clothing, her jewelry, even her nails were done to perfection. I remember thinking that she looked like a queen.
"I'm so glad you could be here with us today," I said, extending my hand. She looked at me and didn't say anything, didn't offer her hand. Sort of uncomfortable. But that's okay. Some people are shy.
"My name is kathie." Still nothing. Not even a smile. Okay, officially uncomfortable. I look to Wray for help, but she is still engaged with someone else.
"How long will you be here?" I try again. This time I get a bit of a smile, but then she picks up her pocketbook and greets Ned who is now by her side, whispering something in her ear, then turning to answer a question from someone to his right. Which leaves just me and Julia, making eye contact but not saying anything. Very uncomfortable.
That encounter left me more than a little unsettled. Why was she being rude? Would it have been too much to just say 'hello.'
I have to admit that I stewed over that for most of the day. It wasn't until our small group Bible study that night that I found out as, Paul Harvey used to say...the rest of the story.
You see, Julia was in the advanced stages of Altzheimers. Her flawless makeup? Ned. Her coordinated wardrobe/jewelry? Ned. Her perfectly manicured nails? You guessed it! Ned.
Wray told me that for all of Julia's life she had been a great beauty. At the university she had been one of the most sought-after young women on campus, not only for her looks but her cheerful pleasant personality, and the kindness she showered on everyone. It's no wonder Ned took one look at her and fell head over heels in love!
Because of that enormous love and affection he made it his life's mission to keep her dignity intact. He learned to apply her makeup, do her nails, and even made sure she had her montly colorings at the salon and took her for her weekly styling appointments.
I learned a valuable lesson that day, folks. Actually, two valuable lesson. Never judge - sometimes things aren't always as they seem. But mostly I learned the meaning of a true, true love.
Happy Valentine's Day weekend to each and every one of you!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
She is an exotic beauty (in this case she is a chip off the old block- her Daddy.) Guys have always followed her around like little puppy dogs. One time she was standing in line at the airport and out of nowhere this very handsome young man slipped her a note and his phone number. He thought he was being so smooth and cool, so the look on his face as he watched her crumple the paper and toss it in the trash, was priceless. (Mother taught her well - ladies don't call guys).
More than one young gentleman walked away with a broken heart. We always had the best looking men at our dinner table, or ringing our doorbell to pick her up for a date. We never saw any of them more than once. There was always something wrong. One had bad table manners. One drove too fast. The next one drove too slow. The hot fireman had hairy arms.
The cute cop was promising. He lasted for all of 3 dates. Apparently, Drexie, the dog didn't think he was good enough.
One night she tiptoes downstairs, almost shyly, and asks me how she looks. Hmm, that's unusual, I thought. She never asks that question. What is different about this night?
"You see, a group of us are going out and there's this guy." I'm listening.
"He's really cute" she explained. "And I really like him, but he won't pay any attention to me. He acts like I don't exist. He doesn't even talk to me."
Uh-oh. This guy does not stand a chance.
Later that evening, her father asks about her.
"She's having dinner with your future son-in-law." That got his attention.
"No, she isn't...." He looks at me like I am crazy.
"Trust me. This guy is the one." I am very confident.
"Why would you say that?" Mr. Smarty Pants wants to know.
"He doesn't pay attention to her."
Smarty Pants snaps the newspaper to the sports section, "Poor guy, probably won't even know what hit him."
"I know," I agree. "He thinks it's just another night out with friends. He has no clue his fate is being sealed."
Monday, February 8, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Henry specializes in the ever-elegant English country look. I wear a lot of clothes like these and would wear them 24/7 if my lifestyle allowed, but I think the boss might frown on the casualness of the half-chaps and wellingtons.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
the boy I 'got' in high school with our son, Will
The weight is becoming a nuisance, and it's not healthy. Unfortunately, I'm not one of these people that can just diet/workout/cut-back at the drop of a hat. I need something to work towards. I need to give myself a time limit and a goal otherwise I'll still keep eating bags of chips, cartons of ice cream, and packages of marshmallows. You think I'm kidding, don't you?
So, ya see those hips right there? Buh-bye!
And that double chin? And chubby fingers? Yuk! So long!
Don't worry, this isn't going to become a diet blog, or daily calorie counter. I promise not to bore you with what I'm eating, or a weekly countdown. Nope, nothing of that sort.
I'll just drop a note once a month, just a one-liner to let you know how much I've lost so far...just to let you know I'm committed.
And for all you anonymous-ers, all fat jokes will be deleted. Don't push me.