Goodnight Sweetheart, Goodnight...

updated: I have combed through this post and changed the names of the people involved. I will not be posting any longer on this site. If you would like to read more of my writing you can visit me at www.just-beth.com

***

Dear JT, my brother...

I have yearned for your love and acceptance since I was old enough to realize that you hate me.

I know some of the story... the story of the end of our parents marriage and therefore the end of your world. I know about as much as anyone can know about such a story, I do know that it all happened during the time I was conceived and born. The one thing I don't know much about during that time is you. Where is your part in this story? I know that you were not yet five years old when I was born, that you had taught yourself how to read before you were three, and that you were quite possibly lost and alone in the midst of a typhoon.

I can only imagine how terrifying it must have been to be so small and surrounded by such chaos.

I wonder, were you the child that they yelled at to 'get out! Leave me alone! Go to your room!' because you had needs that your parents didn't have ability to meet at the time?

Or were you mommas baby, the comfort she turned to when there were no other men available to hold her?

When I was born, did I take that place, that place in her heart and her lap...did I become the one she went to for comfort and love? Or was I just another reason that no one paid any attention to you?

It took me a very, very long time to be able to put myself in your position, to think about what it may have been like to be you; brilliant and small, with your world crumbling around you. And on top of all of that... me. I forgive you, that little boy, alone in the eye of a hurricane. You poor baby.

However.

I was twenty-one when my son was born. The staff at the hospital he was at were so certain he wasn't going to make it that they wouldn't even write his name on the little name tag on his bassinet. He was in the hospital for weeks, fighting for his life. He made it, by god. Susan and I willed it to be so.

It was years before I spoke with you again. You never called to see how he was; how I was. And part of a place in my heart, that place right between forgiveness and understanding died a little. It crushed me that you cared so little for me and now for my son, your nephew.

As the years went by and we spoke less and less, I stopped yearning for a relationship that had only ever existed in my imagination, in my wishes.

Then I started this blog, having found my artistic medium. And suddenly, there you were. YOU found ME. We chatted. Mostly we argued politics, but for the first time I began to let myself feel like I had an older brother.

Then it went deeper, and we had conversations outside of politics. You gave me computer advice, advice about my son's ADHD diagnosis. When I got the web cam from dad, I Skyped you first.

You told me of the difficulties you were experiencing with your wife, and I thought I made it fairly clear that I didn't want the details, and that I thought you were handling things in the wrong way... but at the same time, I supported you as a sister should. Which means that when you told me your wife said that she hated you and that she had done other awful things to you, I came up with a nasty nickname for her... 'Whorezuki*'.

Now, I called her that on any number of occasions and I'm checking with MY family lawyer to see if I can still call her that on my blog, you know, to keep her identity a secret and all... but as I intend to never speak to or of either one of you again, it doesn't really matter.

Because, out of the clear blue sky, I received the following email. It had been sent to an email account that I rarely use, a fact my brother certainly knew. Therefore, I didn't read it for nearly a week after it was sent:

***

b -

I have lied on your blog in the past, specifically on the blog 8/22/08 (Fuck off Friday). I want to make that perfectly clear.

Also, I want you to know that I no longer need nor want any contact from you. Please no emails (do not reply to this email - it will be unread) no phone calls, nothing. I need to be apart from everyone and everything in order to concentrate on my family here.

[JT].

This writing below is from Suzuki:

"Deepest Darkest wife"? "Whorezuki"? you are just a pig.

You hate me, and I hate you.

Don't contact [your brother] at all any more.

***

I am not even shitting you. The post he was referring to was some stupid 'give me the ABC's about YOU' thing and he said something stupid. Whatever. Anyone who thinks that Yahoo, my older brother, is capable of being some sort of Rico Suave is dumber than dumb. Good Christ.

That's besides the point. How *I* became the one responsible for this ridiculousness is beyond me. To this day I don't know how or why I became the one responsible for my brothers outrageous online persona.

Except that he hates me, and went right ahead and fed me to his wife when he needed chum.

At first, and at this point I'm embarrassed to admit, I figured he would sneak me an email or something, saying 'hey, b, love you, don't listen to that shit, I'm in a heap of trouble and your neck just happened to be sticking out... still love you!'

When time went by and I didn't get anything like that, I went lower, asking his friends and colleagues to intercede on my behalf.

Nothing.

So I blogged about it. Ohhhh, you bet your bottom DOLLAR I blogged about it. At first my anger was directed at Suzuki. I called her abusive, I called her crazy, I called her a terrible wife. These things I did because they were (and are) my opinion. Because, as far as I recall;

"freedom of expression is sometimes used to indicate not only freedom of verbal speech but any act of seeking, receiving and imparting information or ideas, regardless of the medium used. In practice, the right to freedom of speech is not absolute in any country and the right is commonly subject to limitations, such as on "hate speech".

And for the record, "Deepest Darkest Wife" is a nickname Jason came up with... when he and I were children, and he called me his "Deepest Darkest Sister". I have always thought it was just a dumb nickname, but what do you want... he's smart but he doesn't have much imagination.

Getting that email sent me reeling. I figured that his wife had, in fact, found Jason's online persona and was none too happy about what she found.

I didn't give up, of course, and went on tirade after tirade about how horrible I think this woman is. Suddenly, I began receiving email after email from other people he had met online, had played games with, had lied to, made promises to and were now looking for their friend who had suddenly and completely disappeared.

That was YOU, JT. Not me. You made these friendships and then deserted them. And then you let Suzuki at them, too. I got permission from one of your friends to post here what you let your wife write to her;

"I have seen your picture. You need to think a bit better about who you send those type of pictures...That ugly body of yours is shabby, just fat. You're nothing special...if you're done a few times, that's it. You're like trash...when you're finished, you're to be thrown away. I'm not jealous of you - I feel sorry for you."

This is a sweet, kind person person with whom you had had an online friendship with for YEARS online. It shames me to know you, it disgusts me that you can be so callow and mean.

If it weren't for Luri, I would never think of you again. Luri is my niece, the innocent in this battle between brother and sister, husband and wife. Luri, whom I have only ever spoken to once or twice and obviously never met.

I hope she finds me someday, I hope she Google's something like, 'Bethany Hunt' or 'Jason Hunt sister', so I can tell her that I love her, that I have always loved her and wanted to be there for her.

I didn't do my best, to be honest. I was caught up in my own drama and even I let you down, lovely Luri. I am so sorry. Unfortunately it's up to you now. If you ever come across this, I will always, always be here for you. And I'm so sorry darling. So very sorry.

However, I also want to tell her that not all families are miserable, that most people love one another; their wives, their husbands, their sisters and brothers, their mothers and fathers.

The coup de grace came just a week or so ago.

I like to imagine it started when my brother's wife couldn't stop reading my blog (after the initial email was sent with her whole 'you are a pig' comment), and became very upset at some of my posts. Then, I like to imagine, she finally figured out that she was dealing with one of the other Hunt sibling... the ones of us who DO have a backbone.

The Hunt siblings who will fight for one another, especially when that 'other' is being an idiot. Don't ask, it's just our thing. We've got each other's backs, and I had JT's and I was screaming it to the world for him to hear.

It appears that it was not well received.

Being the intelligent, mature couple they are (JT and Suzuki, in case the heavy, dripping sarcasm didn't translate over the Internet), decided that rather than call me to explain how very serious they were about... whatever it was they were very serious about... a call from my brother to say that yes, he really HAD meant that he wanted no contact from me anymore, which would have ended any further posting, by the way. Instead, they decided to hire a lawyer (A LAWYER, Y'ALL) who would (bless his heart) be asked to write me the following letter (And, I fervently hope, overcharge them for asking him to do something so ridiculous) :

***

RE: Just Beth Blog

Dear Ms. Harrington:


I have been retained by your brother, Jason Hunt, regarding the scandalous and defamatory statements that you made against him and his wife in your "blog." On your blog, http://bethalea.blogspot.com, which is accessible to the world, you identify your brother Jason, his wife [Suzuki] Hunt, and his daughter [Luri] Hunt. You proceed to name his wife "Whorezuki" labeling her as being a prostitiute [sic]. You accused his wife as being "crazy and abusive" and you make a statement that"... I can't WAIT until karma comes and bites you in your ass. Your saggy, shit-crusted, stanky ASS." You also accuse her of being "a brow beating crazy bitch". With respect to Jason, you assert that he is depressed and suicidal, all of which is completely untrue. As for [Luri], you mention the fact that she has Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADDDHD)[sic] which is a private matter that you should not be discussing in a public forum.

Be advised that your comments are scandalous and subject [JT's] [Suzuki's], and [Luri] to public ridicule as well as damage to their reputations. You should immediately retract these statements and refrain from such conduct in the future. Further, be advised that neither Jason nor his wife wish to have further contact with you as a result of your abusive conduct. They also require that you refrain from mentioning them, or their life situations, in any published works, Internet websites, or public forums. Should you continue to do so, further legal action will be taken.

Sincerely,

John C. Jones

cc: Jason Hunt.

***

I retract nothing.

Plus, the scariest part is the part that they got wrong. I didn't "assert that he is depressed and suicidal", I expressed concern over how he was dealing with all of this. From what I understand, he is cut off from everyone he has ever had contact with. Everyone. I said in the blog post they are referring to, that if he (JT) were a woman, I would have called the police months ago. I AM concerned. Especially now that he felt the need (???) to have a LAWYER assert that he is NOT depressed or suicidal.

My head is just SPINNING.

Furthermore, Jason and I discussed Luri and my son, E's, difficulties with ADHD to support one another. Because that's what families DO. However, because she is a minor, and because I hope to meet her one day, I will take down any posts that refer to her. And it's nearly two in the morning, so I'm not going to do it right now. I will, but that's it, that's all you guys are getting for your money. I have expressed my opinions and concerns... like those of my brother being depressed and suicidal... because they are my opinions and this is my blog.

One last thing. brother. Our mother would be so ashamed of the decisions you have made. Shame on you for not making the right decisions for Luri. Shame on you for giving up and not fighting for what is right. And shame on you for blaming ME for YOUR mistakes.

I don't think you can remove the hatred you have for me from your personality. It's become a part of the person you have allowed yourself to become. And that's your misfortune.

I truly don't know what to think of a man who has made the decisions you have made, JT. So I'm not going to, not anymore.

Goodbye.










**this is the definition to which I was using when calling 'Whorezuki' 'Whorezuki'. It's a play on her name, and the 'whore' part means: "A person considered as having compromised principles for personal gain." From Wikipedia, "It is usually, but not always,^[1] a requirement that this claim be false and that the publication is communicated to someone other than the person defamed (the claimant)".

I don't think we really need to get into THAT argument, do we?


***

If you'd like to read more of what I write, you can find me at www.just-beth.com.

Retractions

Well, well, well.

Fascinating.

Hurtful, heartbreaking and undeniably nearing a conclusion.

I want you to know that I'm not afraid of you. You have no legal standing (there's this thing called 'Freedom of Speech". In fact, here:

The right to freedom of speech is recognized as a human right under Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and recognized in international human rights law in the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR). The ICCPR recognizes the right to freedom of speech as "the right to hold opinions without interference. Everyone shall have the right to freedom of expression"

I have in no way participated in "hate speech", which I think is what you're implying.

For now, there will be silence from me on this blog (just for a week or two, don't worry). I will not be be retracting any of my previous statements because as they are my opinions, they are viable and acceptable to be here. On MY blog. If you are uncomfortable with my language, I suggest you stop visiting this site.

Our mother would be distraught at your choices.

As for me? I'm embarrassed of you. Of your lack of compassion and of your willingness to put me on the chopping block.

My only wish at this point is that my niece will be able to find peace and happiness in her own life, as her parents seem unable to form normal, happy relationships with anyone... not their family and certainly not each other.

So good bye. For now.

Homesick.

Sitting here, waiting for Andy to get home, listening to my kids scream and play down the hall and am missing home so badly my chest hurts. I just ran into a blog that had some nice pictures of So Cal up and suddenly the ache I've been repressing for weeks now has bubbled all the way up and I'd cry if it would help but it won't so I'll just sit here and remember.

I remember the smell of the mornings as I walked to the bus stop on my way to school. Perpetually fresh cut grass, Eucalyptus and dew. The smell of a warm day, of succulents and asphalt, roses and exhaust.

Chlorine. Good god, most of my life was spent in a cloud of chlorine, making my eyes water and steaming the windows in the car with the fumes emminating off of my body. Battling the green tinge that always threatened to over take my honey-blond hair.

Looking out my bedroom window and seeing fifty thousand pools in the backyards of fifty thousand houses.

I remember the smell of Masue, my mom. She smells like cedar and hand lotion. I miss the feel of her cool, dry hand on my forehead, a brush of affection and a sweep to check my temperature. The way she always, ALWAYS wears lipstick, and reapplies without fail before leaving the house and again before she exits her car. I miss our differences, the fact that we are opposites in almost every way, just not in the ones that mean the most. That we love each other and root for each other and will always fight and disagree and that's OK because that's what moms and daughters do.

I miss my sister and her constant pursuance for attention and her ridiculous outfits and her amazing sense of humor and her self. I miss the way she purses her lips and sticks her tongue out just a little when she's concentrating on a project. I miss her fiery sense of righteousness and her unrelenting sense of humor. I miss her smell, too... perfume and hair product and cigarettes and booze and pure, unadulterated earthy decency. Her brutal honesty and her creativity and... dear lord I miss my little sister.

And my little brother. Fighting for his place in this world, he is the best person any of us have ever known. He is the soul of our family, we cry when he cries and we feel some absurd need to protect him at all costs. Because he is the most decent person you will ever know. He is the product of his environment and was born in the wrong century. He's a Renaissance man without a renaissance. My baby brother is eternally cheerful and obnoxiously sanctimonious and while I don't miss HIS smell, I miss the bone crushing hug he would have given me and the love and kindness he shows my children. My eldest emulates him when playing with his own little brother and sister and it's almost enough to make my heart explode.

I should have been able to be there with them, with these smells and these memories and these people, my family. And the ones that aren't there, Jason, Dad, Chris... it's not that I don't miss you guys. You know I do. But my home will always be California, as much as I love Washington and hope to never, ever live anywhere else. It's hard to be from a place you can't stand to live in and ache for at the same time.

It's a funny thing about the Internet. I feel closer to everyone than I ever have, both my family and friends. Yet it seems to have made my desire to hold them and smell them and argue with them and love them in person even more acute and painful.

I think, for the first time in my life I am truly homesick.

I miss you guys. I promise, we'll see you soon.

xo

b.

Cleaning House

You might want to skip right over this post. It's going to be one of those where I simply open my mouth (via my fingers) and puke up a bunch of crap that's been flopping around in this brain of mine. You've been warned.

***

I haven't heard from my brother. I have, however, heard from another one of his friends who received a nasty email from Kiki (aka 'Whorezuki', aka "Suzuki" [also a pseudonym] Hunt) and hasn't heard from him since. I am still so shocked and hurt that he has allowed himself to disappear like this. I am terrified, too... more and more so. This latest friend of his mentioned that she has looked for him at the different game sites he was on, and there's no trace of him. This scares me the most, for now. Because computer games have been Jason's raison d'etre, his passion, his hobby, his outlet. He played Dungeons and Dragons before there were video games and once those came out, it was all over. So if he isn't playing his games, and he has no friends and his wife is a brow beating crazy bitch... what is he doing?? I am so afraid that he is depressed and alone and that he might... I can't even finish that. No, not that I've ever known my brother to be like that... you know, 'suicidal', but if I were in his position and felt like there was no other option... oh lord. And then I'm pissed off again, because if he were a woman...?!?!??? IF HE WERE A GIRL THE COPS WOULD BE CALLED. You know what I mean? But I feel as if I can't. And then I'm depressed again.

So, Whorezuki? FUCK YOU. You are crazy and abusive and I can't WAIT until karma comes and bites you in your ass. Your saggy, shit-crusted, stanky ASS.

***

Well, that feels better. I don't have time for the rest of the crap that's been floating around in my head, the babies are up and everyone seems to think that chocolate cake is what's for breakfast. Thank goodness we have some.

Oh, and I have a button from Cool Mom Picks, you should check it out. Not that I'm a cool mom by any means (wait, except I give my kids chocolate cake for breakfast. You're right, I'M AWESOME!) and I have no money with which to pick anything and you know... PURCHASE it, but they have a nice giveaway that I'd love to win, so... button!

Take it easy, Happy Wednesday!

xo

b.

Things I Hate

1. Hypocrisy. Not the kind where you tell your kid to clean up even though you are a messy bastard, no, like Rush Limbaugh hypocrisy. Seriously, how do you sleep?

2. Cowardice that hides as pretension.

3. My own insecurities.

4. Computer problems that I have to figure out and fix. I'm not good at it and it makes me feel like an asshole.

5. My carpet. SOOO GROSS.

A Letter To Jason

I'm pissed. My brother Jason has now been MIA for MONTHS. And I haven't heard from him except for that first cowardly email he sent me, breaking my heart.

I am PISSED. What the fuck? I mean, there has to be SOME way that he can get me a message. But the only one that I've heard was from a contact of his saying that Jason wanted me to back off from writing his (hateful, horrid, bitch of a)wife nasty blog posts. So I did, thinking that maybe THEN he would send me something, somehow.

Nothing.

I check my email on that other email address, hoping to see something from him STILL. I search online for traces of him, but it's like he never existed. I know he did only because there is a wound, a hurt in my heart that hasn't even begun to heal. I can't believe, even now, that he has broken me down so completely.

I'm on my last legs here, I don't know what else to do. I have to stop hurting, everyone knows that this is not good for you. And being me, I pick and pick at my pain until it is sharp and brilliant, until it cuts. I can't let myself do that.

If you are reading this, brother, COME HOME. Come home to ME, to your sister, to your family who loves you, even if we don't understand you. I don't mean physically, I mean come back to us. You CAN, you know you can. There's this old fashioned thing called 'Mail', and I'm pretty sure it's something you could send out and NO ONE WOULD HAVE TO KNOW ABOUT IT. I'll give Charles my address. Send me something.

Because if you can't help me heal this gaping wound, I'm going to have to do it myself.

And I don't. Want. To.

love,

biscuit

Adventures of Billie (The Kid) Holliday

Sally is very excited because she has figured out how to pick up our new kitty, Billie. Who, by the way, is a boy. Not a girl. So Sally calls to Andy and I today, "Do you want to have some of my SPECIAL RECIPE?!?!?!??" in that super high-pitched voice that only little girls can manage.

Me: Why, CERTAINLY, sweetheart! What is this SUPER SPECIAL RECIPE that you have made?? I scream, trying to drown out the howling dogs.

Sally: KITTY SOUP!!!!!!!!!!!! She screaches.

Me: Awesome! I declare (oh no, I whisper)

What's this, you wonder?

This is Billie in the oven.

Yes. See?

Right there! She's making KITTY SOUP! Isn't that FANTASTIC?!?

Sorry, Billie. But you were DELICIOUS.