Hey my Friday Follies Friends – I hope you’re all dealing with all the issues of life in the most positive way possible for your well-being.

When I checked what I talked about last week, I remembered that I meant to tell you a little bit about the #10 shirt I was wearing in the picture we used – thus the reason we’re reusing the same picture.  That shirt has been a “hangup” for me because of when I wore it last.  I mean not a big “hangup” but a little one, and I don’t like any size “hangups,” you know.

Anyway, it was the shirt I was wearing when we were crossing the U.S./Canadian border quite a few years back to do some shows.  The “border cops” on the American side didn’t like it when we asked them if they would wait to search our new bus until I put towels down on the carpet so we could keep it clean.  They jerked Stan off the bus, and when I went to defend him, they threw me against the wall and man-handled me and put 12 bruises on my body.  These border dudes were Americans and shouldn’t have been employed anywhere.

Then they put us both in separate jails all day long.  When I tried to ask questions, they told me to shut up, so I accommodated them and shut up.  Then they asked me questions and I refused to talk because they had told me I couldn’t talk!  The “Butt Face” in charge tried to frame me with a lie that I had scratched his face. I showed him that my fingernails were too short to scratch anything and pointed out to him that the marks were on the wrong side of his face in the picture he showed me.  I had squeezed the other side of his face because he was so rude, but never scratched.  Not to mention the fact that I was in a jail cell with about a 5-inch thick door separating us.

Anyway, long story short it was a really stressful day – so the shirt has held some bad memories for me, and when I came across that shirt again in my closet, I decided to refuse to allow it to have a hold on me anymore.  So I wore it in defiance so I could take responsibility and lay down the memory that kept haunting me.  That’s it.  The lesson to myself is this – you need (Donna needs) to take responsibility for what you do to yourself by hanging on to bad moments and so does everyone else.  So I’m free of that little stranglehold albeit as small as it was.  I like the shirt and I’m wearing it.  I mean heaven forbid if I should throw something away, huh, girls?

And I’ll bet you thought that life on the road was all glitz and glamour…ha ha.  I tell you these crazy things just in case they could help you with anything you perhaps haven’t “cleared” so you’re totally free and all is well with your soul.

Love,

Donna