Friday, August 5, 2011

Third Installment of Day One.........

My doctor had the same reaction of absolute bewilderment; he had never seen me in such a state. Thankfully my bestie, is well who she is. He had no choice but to listen to her hand over the prescription and we were out of the office in minutes. Back to the check list. The afternoon is approaching and the pickup time for our drive to Philly is nearing. The text start coming in from him:

"What time will you be home from work?"...........really I mean thank you yes I am a strong person but even I cannot handle this situation.....
"Do you want salad for dinner?"..........yes please with a side of heinous crimes would be ideal!

I looked at my bff and said am I crazy. The part I have not mentioned is the FBI had sent two agents in the morning to his work. They questioned him, he reassured them of my innocence and he confessed to them. I was in the room when the two agents called my house to inform the lead agent of the outcome. The lead agent asked if he was coming back with them for me.........the lead agent said I see....well does he want to talk to, really....okay well then you two come back we have it from here. 

Yes you are reading this correctly, he did not come back to check on me, he did not even call.......he knew I was there in "our" home with 9 agents tearing down our life and exposing his lies. 

He waited a suitable amount of time, the agents had left and my bestie was on her way. He sent a text:
B: Are you and the animals okay?
A: Yip
B: What did they take?
A: all your computers?
B: and the pc?
A: My laptop no. That was clean.
B: No my pc?
A: What pc?
B: Mine?
A: Is it true? what they are saying about  you?
B: Yes well some of it. 
A: I have to go we will talk later

That is the amount of concern for me, Moli and the cats he had. Then to assume I went to the office, to assume I would want to ever look at him again. He makes me sick to my stomach a cold heinous socio path is what he really is. But at that time I was so confused. I mean was I over reacting? I packed up and ran. I did not think about my actions. I took flight……did I just over react? Did I ruin my marriage? My bestie looks at me and says….a line that has been continuously repeated……

Honestly if you were to run down the street screaming with a butcher’s knife you still would not be over reacting……..Okay so I did not over react. Check!

Saturday, July 30, 2011

That Day continued........

I sat at my bff's dinning table with a note book she gave me. The note book to start my life again. A place to keep track of everything as it unfolded. First she made a to do list. What we had to accomplish before we could run to what was to become my new safe haven. Philadelphia.......truly is a city of brotherly and sisterly love!

We started with closing all my bank accounts and credit cards. They were extensive and the debt he racked up in my name suffocating. I am still surprised by the understanding nature of the people on the call lines at these financial instittuions. Each person, mostly women, were calming, supportive and they helped me as fast as possible to insulate myself. Blocking him out without him knowing. With each end of each call a good luck or stay strong words of advice or even I know what you are going through I have been there came through the phone. My embarrassment grew. My marriage was not what it had seemed to be. It was a lie to cover up more lies.

The check list continues. It is amazing the things you do not think about when you are in this situation. I had to act fast. I had no time to stop. All I wanted to do was curl up, go to sleep and never wake up. That was not on the check list. Tranquilizers and Lawyers were on the check list. It is incredible what you really do need in those first few hours and days. Things only a person with the same experience can think of. My bff's mother has been through a divorce. When she was informed that I and my pug were being brought down to Philly for the weekend her first comments were that girl needs a lawyer and tranquilizers. She volunteered to procure a lawyer and my bestie had score the tranquilizers.

I have never and nor has my bff gone to a doctor's office asking for a prescription for tranquilizers. We made an appointment with my GP and rode the subway uptown. The first time I had nothing to do, no calls to make no dog to console........just sit there. I had not noticed but the tears had been streaming down my face the entire morning. A continuous stream of tears. My bestie points out the humor of the situation. I am, yes me, sitting on the subway in a questionable ensemble, no bra, no make up, my hair is not coiffed and I am crying. That is an image she nor I ever would have expected to see. Me broken! Those who know me, will understand this. I am notorious for always having a perfectly pulled together exterior. No matter what is going on at home to the world outside I was always great. Let me rephrase: I WAS notorious for always having a perfectly pulled together exterior.

That now has changed. I have let down those walls of perceived perfection, I have been exposed, I have come to accept me. I cry in front of my friends, I cry in public, I wear my glasses and no make up to run errands. I am just me. Raw, rough, exposed, delicate, broken.......just me.

Friday, July 22, 2011

This Time Last Year........

I had a back pack filled with a questionable assortment of clothes, and all of Moli's belongings and I walked out! Yes it has taken me a year to return to blogging, it has been a year and half to say the least. But now it is time to blog again. My core values are the same but my belief system and trust shattered! Let me go back to that morning last July 22 it was a Thursday at 6am. A hot New York summers day. Not nearly as hot as today. Moli and I slept soundly in our life as we knew it to be awoken by nine FBI agents with guns at the ready. Searching my entire apartment for the suspect I was allegedly harboring.

My first reaction was to defend my family, my husband my citizenship, my love for this country, I work for this country. It had to have been mistaken identity. The name Brian Jones is common enough......he served this country in uniform, I have pictures and meddles to prove it. Nothing stopped their methodical moves. Setting up a command station on my dinning room table. Removing all the art from the walls, all the books from the shelves, all the dvds my entire life was being stripped to nothing but a pile of belongings that were taking on a new meaning. I was moved from room to room as they moved opposite me. I was always held by a female FBI agent. I did not know what to do, how to react. Some of the agents were very pleasant and looked on me with pity and the knowing of sorrow my life was about to endure. Two others treated me like the scum that would commit these heinous crimes. And here enters the word that I had never used in my life before until that morning and the months to follow. Heinous! Heinous Heinous! I offered the agents tea or water they refused I tried to feed Moli, but she was distraught as I. Then the story comes out, the truth and the evidence about who and what my husband is a heinous criminal........

All I see is a flood of confusion, concern for the victims, fear, and guilt.....I proceed to apologize profusely for his actions, and that I had no idea this was going on in my safe haven. The lead agent tried to calm me, explaining he knows clearly that I am innocent absolutely innocent. The female agent gives me her direct cell as she is very concerned about my well being. The tears would not stop, the shaking would not stop, the apologizing would not stop, the guilt would not stop, the need to violently throw up would not stop. The lead agent sits me down and says listen to me carefully very carefully, as the FBI I am not allowed to get involved in your marriage that is between you and your husband. But you should not be here when he comes home. He will have more lies to cover the lies and try and convince you of his mistakes were innocent. You should not be here you should not stay, but it is your life and your marriage. We are so sorry to put you through this we are sorry for ruining your marriage.

The agent continued talking slowly and methodically with a strong hand on my shoulder trying to give me the strength to act. He insisted I call a family member in the area to come get me. They were not going to leave until I was safe.

I have no family in New York, I am an immigrant, i was building my family. I do have a best friend is more than family to me. I have no idea how to ask her for help. I have never asked for help before, I have always survived on my own. But I called, I called her and without asking she came to my rescue.

By 1030 am this time last year Moli and I had moved into my besties home, she had created a list of things we had to accomplish before he realized I was gone. The lies kept unfolding and the damage he had done was extensive. Little Bit sat by my feet and Moli on my lap while I took every precaution to insulate myself and Moli from any further financial harm. The other harms were already done.

It was clear I could never ever go back. Once the FBI left that morning everything was a blur. My bff reminds me that the first things I said to her when I opened the door was I cannot stay with him. I do not remember this but it is the best statement I have ever made.

This blog has taken a turn from powerful sassy ladies to the raw emotion of life being shook to its core. The powerful and the sassy always return. The details, lessons, trials, and decisions will unfold from here on. This is the beginning of a new life, my new life.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Sorority Girls offensive Fundraiser!

The ladies of Kappa Phi Lambda decided to organize a fundraiser for the Coalition Against Trafficking in Women and NAPAWF. Lovely and very nice of them to offer.....the problem lies in the ridiculous, insulting and simply offensive theme of the event.....Wait for it here it comes...these bright young things decided to have a party where women dressed up in naughty, sexy and slutty uniforms "Women in the Forces: Independent Women Get Out on the Dance Floor! Basically they are inviting women to sexually objectify themselves to help women who are forced into sexual exploitation!

Does this not sound just plain wrong! We have the right to choose how we live our lives, how we make an income and how we dress....yes we choose this. But how can it be okay to consciously choose to be objectified by men when there are thousands of women in the world forced to fulfill men's sexual fantasies. Not by choice!!!! They have no Choice...but we do!!! Early feminists burnt bras...I think our generation needs to burn the slutty costumes!!!!

I read this story on the Bust blog ( It is an interesting article and worth reading as the author questions all her choices and tries to decide where the thin line is. This event brought up the question of make-up, heels and mini skirts are also considered to be submitting to male objectification and capitalist patriarchal society? This just goes back to the same old issue of feminism vs femininity. We can be feminists and look gorgeous by dressing the way we feel comfortable. But naughty slutty Halloween costumes are for girls looking to turn men on instead of feeling comfortable and confident in themselves. As you all know I love clothes, shoes, makeup and hair products. My boobs are not in your face and my derrière is not hanging out as I gyrate on the dance floor......Now that is dressing to get male's attention!
Kappa Phi Lambda I really hope you are not a sign of younger feminists to come......

Morning the loss of Pioneer Aviatrix Elinor Smith

This week has been chock full of Power Bombshell news, but before I comment on any of this news I want to honor, remember and recognize Elinor Smith.

Elinor Smith was a daring and defiant pilot during the 20s and 30s when women were not known for their flying expertise. She was known as the Flying Flapper of Freeport, and she flew most of her life, even landing an experimental flight at 89. She made her fame at age 16 when she was already working as a pilot, ferrying passengers between Long Island and Roosevelt Island. A few male friends of hers dared her into taking off on her own. She flew west, then south, dipping under the Queensborough, the Williamsburg, the Manhattan and the Brooklyn bridge. The next day the Times reported that “Miss Smith was informed by the Department of Commerce that they might ‘ground’ her for her stunt, but she said that she would rather take that chance than disappoint a number of persons who had expected her to carry out her plan.

Now who does not love a defiant Aviatrix!

Monday, March 8, 2010

Calling all Women

to raise a glass to:
All the Women who came before us, who forced open the doors and starting paving a path for our voices to be heard, our votes to count and a safe place for us in the working world.
All the Women of today who strive and work everyday to get equality and recognition for all women.
All the Women to come who will continue paving the path of equality, recognition and success for all the generations of feminists to come.
Cheers Ladies and Happy International Women's Day to all the amazing women out there!
International Women's Day

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Feminism and Femininity are NOT

I repeat NOT mutually exclusive!

Sorry dear blogsphere I have been very silent lately the power in the bombshell has had me traveling all over the country. I am back armed with new material. Let’s start with this latest article on the BUST magazine blog….

“Et tu Jessica? “BUST not feminist?” Really?”

The gist of the article is that Jessica Valenti, editor of, was asked what publication she compares herself with and she answered: “There’s Ms. Magazine and there’s Bitch. Bust used to be a feminist magazine, but now it’s more crafty and about making things out of yarn. I’m not a D.I.Y. feminist…..”

Is she for real? Clearly she has not picked up a bust magazine in a long time to notice the variety of content from the women empowering articles to the kick arse news. All that aside what does this say about Ms Valenti, she clearly is a feminist without the feminine! BUST magazine is a “girly” empowerment mag. In their about section they describe themselves as “With an attitude that is fierce, funny and proud to be female…” This is not a blogatorial for BUST mag, yes the magazine is one of my favorites. Instead let’s “BUST” the social statement that Ms Valenti is trying to say.

If you are a feminist you cannot be crafty…why not? Arts and crafts have given and are giving women all over the world for centuries a chance to work even if confined in their own home. The cottage industry is the reason so many women have had a chance to start careers without an education, and who are unwelcome in the male working environment.

Now I am not crafty at all, Paint By Numbers is even too much for me to accomplish. But I admire crafty women; they have a talent that should be embraced not staunched because they are feminists. Feminism has so many degrees and so many interpretations. We have evolved from the feminists of the 70s who used shock tactics to get their voices heard, and thank goodness for those ladies! Do not forget the feminists of the 80s who wore men’s suits to try and be equal in the work environment. In today’s world we are still fighting for the cause but we are also embracing what and who we are. WOMEN! Beautiful, talented, crafty and intelligent women! I am sure if Ms Valenti knew I adore aprons she would deny me the right to be a feminist….Now I love my aprons they are so fabulous to wear while serving decadent cocktails at parties! Ms Valenti would never know that I am a product of a male dominated home where my education was always considered less important and I was told to pick a career based on the potential to meet the right husband and start producing babies……well we all know that was a good reason to succeed in my career and marry an artist who cooks.

In honor of Ms Valenti’s comment may I suggest a holiday shopping idea: HandCrafting Justice a group that works with women struggling for economic justice and independence in the developing world by marketing and selling their handcrafts.......Now if that is not Feminism what is?