Not A Princess
DINO
Oldest Niece
Middle Niece.

Below is the beginning of "Not a Princess."

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Abigail Kinoiki Kekaulike Kawānanakoa, who was widely considered the last Hawaiian princess, died on December 11, 2022, at the age of 96.

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If the known LAST HAWAIIAN PRINCESS died...That is 100% proof that this absolute Krazy Karen can't be a Hawaiian Princess.

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NOT a Princess” contacts people, literally calling herself HRH Princess “NOT a Princess.”. 🤦‍♀️

She is not an HRH nor a princess. I think the sickest and stupidest thing is that she KNOWS she's not a princess but keeps lying to people that she is. I did her husband's genealogy years ago and sent it to her, and he is NOT of Royal Lineage.

I have had distant family members, even recently, call or text me, right out of the blue, asking if I knew who this disturbed person is, that's contacting them, pretending to be a princess. So, I would have to explain the situation to them and advise that they block her.... which they do.

I was in my office one day and received a text from a family member asking me if I knew who this person claiming to be a princess was. They sent me a screenshot of her texts and I was mortified!!!! Mortified that she was spreading this BS, and trying to rope other family member into her BS. I was also mortified that I then had to explain that the fake princess is my sister and that I was sooooooooo sorry that she was contacting them.

It is embarrassing. It is mortifying! I have always had to cover up for her bullshit. I have always had to make excuses for her and clean up her mess. I always had to calm people down when her strange behavior had scared or concerned them.

Again....Not a Princess

Unfortunately, you are not an HRH nor a Princess. In some posts you wrote that your husband was grandson of Prince Kūhiō and his wife, Kalanianaole. That couple had no biological children. In your FB profile now, you claim that your husband is the great-grandson of Bennett Namakeha. Bennett had only one child, Hinau, that lived to adulthood. Through Hinau, Benjamin Namakeha had only one grandchild, Stella Keomailani. Stella died without lineal descendants. So, your husband is not a descendant of Namakeha, and therefore, no matter what your dreams and aspirations are, your husband is not a Hawaiian Prince, and you are not an HRH nor a Princess. In one post you even bragged about being a “White Princess.” (Seriously ? Where's Walt Disney when you need him?!) The Hawaiian Royal Genealogy is thoroughly cataloged, and you and your husband are not part of it. You express personal ownership of the "Kingdom of Hawaii," while claiming a high ranking Hawaiian Royal title you aren't entitled to. Your husband isn't a prince, therefore he can't bestow the title of princess onto you. Your lies, your cosplay, your stolen royal valor is highly disrespectful and insulting to the Hawaiian people. If you live in Hawaii, you have a great opportunity to do hands on genealogy research, not just the copy and past junk on Ancestry. I would hope, now that you know the truth, and out of RESPECT for the Hawaiian Culture and the Hawaiian People, you would stop using the Royal Titles you are not entitled to and rectify your incorrect FB name and stop claiming to be a family of Hawaiian Royalty.

I have been a genealogist since 1992. Many years ago I did "Not a princess's" husband's genealogy and she knows 100% that he is not a prince of the Hawaiian Islands. His ancestors are true salt of the Earth. People he should be proud of. Every time not a princess uses that title she slaps her husband's ancestors in the face, and she disrespects her husband and her descendants because she's passing on what she knows to be a lie to her children, her grandchildren, her great grandchildren, and so on. She is deliberately passing on what she 100% knows to be a lie. She is making a fool of her daughters because they repeat her lies, she makes a fool of her husband because people know better than the fact that he's a prince of the Hawaiian Islands, and she makes a fool of herself.

Parking Lot PARASITE

🪱

She has been a parasite on the government system (AKA: The working tax payers, like me) all her life. She has always been a freeloader who sucked off the teat of the American tax payer. Not with a greatful attitude either, but wholeheartedly with an entitled attitude.

Social programs are not meant to be parking lots!!!

They are meant to be temporary bridges!!!

Our Sister Burned!

When I was about two years old and "Not-a Princess' was about four years old, our sister, about eight years old was making herself a bowl of cereal for breakfast. I don't know why, but the cereal bowls were kept in the cupboard above the stove. I would like to think that it was because my mother was young and new to the logic of avoiding trouble by thinking of future scenarios....but I can't. Mom was 30 with 4 children, the oldest being 10.

Well, my 8 year old sister moved a chair in front of the stove and stood on it, reaching for the cupboard above the stove to retrieve a cereal bowl. She didn't consider that my mother had a percolator type coffee pot percolating on the gas stove. My sister's nightgown caught fire and she burned. She survived, with 1st degree burns on only two percent of her torso and upper thigh. The doctor said her nightgown having tight elastic on the sleeves and neckline kept the fire from spreading to her face, hair and hands. She spent a month in the hospital and had some skin grafts done. Her outcome was amazing but she did have some scars for the rest of her life.

For years I had nightmares about seeing my sister burn, but my mother said I didn't see it. She said that "Not-a-Princess" and I were asleep when the accident happened. Even though my dreams were clear, I believed my mother. Over the years when I would tell mom that I still have the nightmare that I saw my sister burn, and that it truly feels like a memory, not a dream, her explanation became harsher. She started saying that I was lying about seeing it to just cause drama. Calling me a liar worked..I dropped the subject.

Years later, 'Not-a-Princess' and I talked about it for the first time. We realized we both had the same exact memory of the accident, and our mother was the one lying, not us. The truth is "Not-a-Princess" and I were standing together in the doorway to the kitchen that morning. We saw our sister move and stand on the chair, open the cupboard and reach for a bowl, and her nightgown catch on fire, and we heard her agonizing pain filled screams. Mom pushed us out of the way and worked ferociously to put the fire out. Mom called the emergency line while "Not-a-Princess" and I stood there quietly crying while holding hands. When the paramedics showed up, mom told me to open the door. I did. After that we were made to go to our room, which we did, and that is the last of that day that I remember.

We weren't lying.

Disgusting Bully. Spitter!

When I was young, “Not a Princess” was the biggest and most disgusting big sister a little girl could have. She was always fat, and I was always skinny. She was taller, stronger and heavier than me and as a bully, she thoroughly enjoyed using that advantage against me. She would often punch me in the gut, to the point where I would be left gasping for air. Then she would dance around me, watching the fear and pain on my face, laughing.

She took full advantage of using my long hair in her physical assaults. She would grab my hair and yank my head back and spit on me. She would grab my whole head of hair and swing me around and because she was bigger than me and her arms were longer I couldn't do anything about it. She would swing me so fast that I would end up with my knees dragging on concrete, and she would pull me so that my knees would get scraped. It was very brutal.

She would get me down on the ground, straddle my midsection, clamp my arms above my head and spit on me. She would laugh while I screamed and tried valiantly to get out of her grasp, with no success. She would tell me which part of my face she was going to aim her “loogie” at. She would lean over my face, snort the phlegm up from deep in her sinuses, and spit the wad of disgusting sputum onto my face. By this time, I would be crying, she would be enjoying. She would also hold me down and spit raspberries in my face. It was just the epitome of disgusting bullying.

To this day, I can’t stand seeing anyone spit or just saliva without gagging.

My mother never did anything to stop her bullying me, to stop her physical assaults, but she did repeatedly tell not a princess that one day I was going to be taller and stronger than not a princess and I was going to remember every single one of these assaults, and not a princess would not come out of it happily. And that's exactly what happened. There was a point I gained 3 inches of height past her, and I was very active child so I was physically fit. And I beat the shit out of her. And it was after that she left me alone... Physically anyway.

LATCH-KEY KIDS.

When I was in 1st grade and “NOT a Princess” was in 2nd grade, we were in the same school. She was only a grade ahead of me because she had failed kindergarten and had to go through it twice. Honestly people, how hard must it be to fail kindergarten!?! It's the same thing as failing daycare. She wasn't even smart enough to get through kindergarten the first time. So from the beginning, she was always one year behind in school.

But I digress...

I was 6 years old and in 1st grade .“NOT a Princess” was 8 years old and in second grade. As usual I had all the responsibility, and she had none. We were latchkey kids, and I was the one given the responsibility of having the key. The school we were in had these classrooms called Pods. It was one big room without inner walls, and they were sectioned off into four spaces. You started in 1/4 of the room in your first period class then when it was time for second period everybody in the room shifted clockwise and that's how it worked throughout the day. The Pods were mostly made of glass. It was supposed to give you the feeling of being outside and promote better studying. “NOT a Princess” and I were in the same school, but we were not in the same class, nor in the same Pod.

One day out of the blue my teacher came up to me and told me that I was needed outside. I figured it was my parents, so I went outside, and it was my sister, “NOT a Princess.” She demanded I give her the house key cuz’ she was going home. I told her no, and to go back to her class. Then she tried a different tactic and said she was sick and needed to go home. I told her no. I reminded her that Mom said that under no circumstances was she allowed to go home. And that under no circumstances was I supposed to give her the keys. But she was persistent as was I. She was persistent because she wanted to play hooky, She didn't care that if I gave her the key I would get into deep trouble with mom, and that i would get a beating from mom if I gave her the key. Only what she wanted mattered. I was persistent. No, no, no.

Then she became threatening, balled up her fist, and got in my face. She was blowing up on me, screaming at me and cussing like a sailor at me. She repeatedly screamed that she was going to kill me. She was describing how she was going to kill me...by hanging me from a tree, or stabbing me in my sleep. She said she was going to beat me up. She was going to shove rocks down my throat. She was going to yank every bit of hair out of my head. It was very scary for a 6 year old girl. She was quite fat and a lot taller than I was and she was in my face and as she was talking and screaming, and spitting. But honestly, that behavior was nothing new to me. That was how she treated me all the time. I looked over at the Pod and my entire class was standing at the long picture window watching this scene play out before them...and I was humiliated!!! Humiliated because they could see that my sister was in my face screaming at me and threatening me physically. And as usual, I was taking it all on board as if I were in the wrong. As if I was a failure because I couldn't control the situation, and my failure now had an audience. As young as I was, I was thinking 'where's my teacher? Why isn't she seeing this and helping me? Why isn't any adult helping me?' Well, my teacher was right there, in the window, watching a 6 year old child in distress, and she did nothing. Of course, I didn't cry, because in our house we weren't really allowed to cry. Mom always said if we cried she'd give us something to cry about, which meant she'd beat us longer and harder. So, as a 6-year-old against a bigger, stronger, and angrier 8-year-old I had to stand my ground, and I just told her after about 15 minutes of this behavior that she needed to go back to class and finish the day and we'll walk home together. Both angry and dejected, she finally walked away and she went back to her class.

With as much dignity as a 6-year-old girl, who just felt humiliated in front of her entire class, could muster, I went back into the pod and finished the day. When I got home, I did not tell my mother about it. Which again was very normal when it comes to an abused child. I felt it was MY fault that “NOT a Princess” had done that. Internally I took total responsibility as if I somehow made it happen. She tried this again numerous times over the years, and I never once gave up the house key.

As an adult, looking back, I truly do wonder where the adults were in my life. Why did my parents place this responsibility on me, and why did my teacher allow this to happen? I can't imagine that something “NOT a Princess” had said to a grown woman, a teacher, would have been convincing enough to let the teacher allow this to happen out in the open. Especially since everyone knew that “NOT a Princess” wasn’t the brightest bulb in the Christmas tree even on her best day.

FAKER! FAKER! FAKER!!!!!

From the time I was about six years old I had some serious leg pain. My legs would ache terribly to the point where I would cry. The pain was worse during inclement weather. I missed school because of it. I had to use a cane at times. Doctors said it was growing pains. Other doctor's said I needed to have my feet and toes broken and learn to walk again. Not a princess used to spit in my face and call me "Faker, Faker, Faker!!!" In a sing song voice. She told people at school that I was faking. It was humiliating. I was in terrible pain that often would keep me awake for days.

I learned to live with it as best I could. Years later, as an adult, the pain became unbearable again. I went to the doctor and it turns out l had misaligned kneecaps. The issue turned out to be congenital. Unfortunately, it had taken so long to diagnose the issue that all the cartilage in my knees had been worn down to nothing. I had one of the needed surgeries in my 30s. It was amazing. The pain in that leg was gone.

All those years, Not a Princess was extremely evil to her little sister. Instead of championong her, she belittled her, lied about her, demeaned her and abused her.

Attempted Kidnapping.

When I was in 1st grad, and “NOT a Princess” was in 2nd grade we were walking home, and a couple of kids came running at us and yelled "Run!!! He's grabbing kids!" And they passed us in the opposite direction and kept going. I was instantly on alert because not far behind those kids was an old man who was now grabbing at me. It was definitely an attempted kidnapping. I screamed for “NOT a Princess” to run and she just stood there. I was flailing my arms and ended up hitting the guy in the nose with the palm of my hand just enough to where he let go of me. And again “NOT a Princess” was just standing there doing nothing. I still kept screaming "Run!" When I was out of his grasp I grabbed “NOT a Princess’s” arm and we started running in the same direction we had been walking. The man spun around and was still chasing us. “NOT a Princess” was yelling at me to slow down. She didn't seem to grasp the fact that we were fighting for our lives, no...correction.... I was fighting for our lives. I turned around at one point and saw the old man get into an old car. It was a car back from the very early '60s, maybe even 50s. A boat-sized car. With a long trunk, a long middle section and a long hood. When he got in the car he came at us and that seemed 10 times more scary. It just so happens at that point I saw at a distance, a classmate of mine that I barely knew go into a parking lot in a townhouse type community across the street. Out of sheer desperation, still holding "not a princess'" arm, I dragged “NOT a Princess” across the street where I had seen my classmate go. She went into one of the townhouses and I ran both “NOT a Princess” and I up the steps and was pounding on the door. I was screaming for help. My classmate's mother came to the door and let us in immediately. She was very kind, and very concerned. She kept telling us how smart we were when we saw her daughter that we followed her daughter and looked for help. I explained the situation and she had us get in her car and we went driving around looking for the old man in his car. Again, I wasn't crying. I was terrified, but I refused to cry. I needed to be the adult in the situation. That was my mindset. I was 6 years old, but I needed to be the adult in the situation because I was responsible for both myself and “NOT a Princess.” We couldn't find the old man in the car and my classmate’s mother with my classmate and her little brother in tow drove us to our babysitter's house. She explained the situation to the babysitter and left her name and phone number to be given to my parents in case they had questions. The babysitter was very concerned herself and sat us down with a plate of cookies and some milk. When my mother came to pick us up, right in front of the babysitter, my mother called us liars. She told the babysitter it didn't happen and that we were making it up. A few days later I heard the babysitter tell my mother at pick-up that an old man had been arrested for kidnapping and molestation. I had no idea what molestation was. A kidnapping on the same day and the same man we described. Mother told her it was a coincidence and nothing more. Of course, because it was my abusive mother after that we dropped the subject.

Years later as an adult I asked my mother about that situation. I told her that it really did happen and we weren't lying. I asked her why she didn't call the police and at least put in a report. That there had been an old man out there trying to kidnap kids, and us making a report and giving a description of him and his car may have made a difference. My mother pretty much shrugged it off. She said that at the time she just figured we were lying, and I told her that wasn't good enough. I asked why didn't you just default that we were telling the truth? We weren't known to lie. And even the babysitter and my classmates mom believed us...why didn't our own mom? I reminded her that I was a very responsible child and that I didn't lie about things. So, instead of taking it for granted we were lying, why didn't she just take it for granted that we were telling the truth? My mother said that it didn't matter either way, because the police wouldn't have found him on our say-so, and it would just have made a big deal about nothing. And even as an adult it made me realize that to her, her children were pretty much nothing, disposable, unwanted. Then she gave me what she thought would be an explanation of the whole thing. She said that it doesn't need to be a big deal because practically the same thing happened to her when she was a kid. She said she told her parents when she came home from school one day that she had seen a bear down the street from their house and they didn't believe her. And it didn't bother her not to be believed so it shouldn't have bothered me.

I never brought up the subject again.

She Has a "Tell."

When I was young, probably around six years old, I realized that “Not a Princess” had a “Tell” when she was lying to someone. She continued to have that tell as an adult. I don’t think my parents or sisters ever noticed it, and I never told them about it. I was the observant, responsible child in the family, and I was very guarded as to what I said to my parents, as my mother was brutally abusive. So, I often stayed back and observed.

So…are you curious as to what the “tell” is? Well, when “Not a Princess” is lying, she closes her eyes and keeps them closed until she has finished spewing the lie of the moment. That is her “tell” and there is no mistaking it.

She can’t look you in the face, and she can’t turn away. Psychologically she closes her eyes when lying because she is subconsciously trying to block out the sensory information or hide her reaction to the lie, which can also be a defense mechanism to conceal the deception. If she is lying to someone, she is concerned that she might smile from the discomfort. Some call a slight upturn of the mouth “Duper’s Delight” whereas the total grin is “Duper’s Euphoria.” “Not a Princess” is afraid of showing “Duper’s Euphoria.”

Back in the day when Susan Smith was on TV crying about her children being kidnapped I knew for a fact that she was lying and that she had murdered them. I knew this because while she was talking she did exactly what I had seen "Not a Princess" do all my life. She talked on the microphone with her eyes closed. I recognize that as a tell of liars. I had spent my childhood watching my sister close her eyes while she's lying. And in the end I was proven right because it turned out Susan Smith had murdered her own children and was asking the country to watch for her children and help her find her children, when she knew they were at the bottom of a lake holding hands and dead.

That is the exact same kind of tell that my sister has.

Finally Tested

Mom suspected that there was something wrong with “NOT a Princess.” Everyone that met "Not a Princess" would describe her as "Slow." Mom was convinced that "Not a Princess " was retarded and she felt she should have her tested for mental retardation.

As her sister, I knew her better than anyone did while growing up. Especially since I was age 3, and she was 5, I was made responsible for her by our parents. I told mom that she wasn't Slow in the typical meaning of the word. I always watched, observed and recognized the issue. "Not a Princess" is what I would call Voluntarily Slow. She got through school playing the Slow card. She got on the Welfare doles by playing the Slow card. (Read the below Anecdote in regard to her deliberate con of the American Tax Payer.

...I digress...

At 16, she decided that all men and teen boys were in love with her. If we were in the Van with our parents and she saw a boy in the next car, she would dive down below the window with a high-pitched screech followed by a giggle and ask me if the man or teen boy was still looking at her. They never were. It was ridiculous behavior, and it disgusted me. This was a repeated behavior that spanned at least a decade.

The decision was made by mom to test her one afternoon when Dad, Mom, “NOT a Princess” and I were all riding in the family VW van. I was 14. “NOT a Princess” was 16. “NOT a Princess” was trying to get a rise out of me by calling me names and calling me stupid. I didn't take the bait. She became louder and more aggressive. "Not a Princess" was calling me stupid and talking about how I would need to take smart pills. I remember at 14 I was looking at her thinking, how old are you? 12? She was telling Mom who was sitting in the passenger front seat, ignoring us, that she thought I should get tested because I was stupid and because I liked the color pink. She would say "Pink, Pink, You Stink" in a sing-song voice....and this particular day she was 16! The abuse went on and on, and I just sat there and tried to ignore her.

I finally had enough. I said to "Not a Princess" that she could call me stupid all she wants, but at least I know the days of the week and could name the months in the year.

At that point my mom turned in her seat and told me to knock it off. She said of course Violet knows the days of the week and the months of the year and I was just picking on her.

I told mom that first of all she's been picking on me, and second, what I said about naming the weeks and months is a fact....ask her.

My mom said "Not a Princess"... Do you know the names of the weekdays and of the months? Not a princess said confidently "Yes."

My mom told her to name the days of the week. With a confident smile on her face "Not a princess" said "Monday, Tuesday, June, January, Saturday, Friday, June." My mother's face showed shock and disgust. She couldn't believe what she just heard come out of her16-year-old's mouth. She asked her to recite the months in the year. She even gave her a clue by telling her to start with January. "Not a Princess" said January, July, Left, Right, October, and January.

I told Mom ask her how many years in a decade, and how many months in a week. And my mother did. Not a princess said that there was a thousand years in a decade. And she said there was a thousand months in a week. This is a 16-year-old.

My mother didn't say another word but of course, my 14-year-old self had to pipe up with "See! I told you!"

It was after that that my mother had "Not a Princess" tested.

Turns out she wasn't slow. She wasn't retarded. No ADHD, ADD or Autism. She wasn't mentally ill. It was found that she was just lazy. She'd gotten away with years and years of not bothering. She couldn't be bothered to learn, and she was pushed through school, and I was forced to be her brains, her guardian and decision maker at home. Because of that she never had any reason to learn. And it continued. Mom was so appalled that her daughter was like this that after the testing we never were allowed to speak of it again. It continued that she was called slow, and in hindsight as an adult I realized that that was my parents' way of not taking accountability for not seeing what not a princess was like, but allowing it to continue.

NEW

"SEARCH TAKE"

In intermediate school there was this thing called SEARCH TAKE. I had no idea what it was about. I had heard “Not a Princess” mention it a couple of times when she started intermediate school but I didn't give it a thought.
When I started intermediate school I was pretty small. Under 5 ft tall. Very slender. I wore high heels. Skirts, dresses, wore my hair long and curly. Very feminine. One day I was walking towards one of my classes and this huge Hawaiian girl came up to me and just said SEARCH TAKE. I had no idea what she was talking about. I asked her what she meant. She said, and a very determined and intimidating way, that she gets to search my purse and take whatever she wants. I laughed because I thought she was kidding. Which only served to make her angry. She was a huge girl. I remember she was round. Her body was round, her $5 haircut was round like a helmet, her nose was round, her cheeks were round and puffy, her hands were large and round like ham hocks. She towered over me and could have caused me damage with just one punch of her ham hocks. It was quite scary and very intimidating. As she meant it to be. She said SEARCH TAKE again. When I got over my shock, my brain said “Hell NO!” I said to her in a very serious voice “No.” I tried to walk past her. She wouldn’t let me. She said SEARCH TAKE again, and I said in a firmer and louder voice, “NO!” She stared at me for a while and walked away. But she walked away laughing as if she had somehow been triumphant.
Throughout the day I saw this girl and a few other girls doing SEARCH TAKE on a bunch of different Haoles. It infuriated me. It infuriated me because they were bullies, and they enjoyed it. I felt bad for their victims and I wished with all my heart that they had stood up for themselves instead of allowing this to happen.
That day I decided that I would never allow that to happen to me. I wasn't going to let it upset me. I wasn't going to let these people intimidate me. I wasn't going to let these people think they were in any way superior to me. So that day I determined that I would never be the victim of SEARCH TAKE.

The next day another girl came up to me this one was Samoan, even bigger than the last and she said SEARCH TAKE. I saw the other girl in the distance. The one that had tried this yesterday, and she was watching the whole thing. I decided that I needed to put an end to this crap. Keep in mind I was not physically strong. I couldn't gain a physical upper hand with these behemoths if I tried, they were huge.

What I did was, I used my brain. I climbed way up on my high horse, and I faced this huge, obese, Samoan girl with a really bad haircut, bad breath, dirty fingernails and nasty teeth she probably hadn't brushed in months. I looked her in the eyes and I told her firmly and decidedly that she will NOT search my purse and she will NOT take what she wants. I told her flat out in a commanding, low toned voice that if she bothered to even try to do SEARCH TAKE again to me, she would absolutely live to regret it. I pointed out to her that I understood she could overpower me physically, but what she couldn't do was outthink me. I pointed out to her that I hold grudges, and I never let them go. I told her to her that she can turn around and walk away and never revisit this again, or she could push her luck and live with the consequences. I also told her that if she tried to do SEARCH TAKE with my sister that she could expect the exact same kind of treatment that she would get if she tried it again with me. I advised her that it would be a good idea to make sure everybody else knows that they are to leave me alone, and to leave my sister alone or suffer the consequences.
I literally saw the color drain from her face. She honestly didn't know what to do. I looked her in the eye, and I told her now you are going to turn around and walk away and never talk to me again. At that point it was as if my instructions got through the terror I had evoked in her brain that is rarely used and she literally spun on her heels and walk to the other girl and they both walked away.
From that point on I was never the victim of SEARCH TAKE. The bullies stopped doing SEARCH TAKE to my sister as well. I don't know if Not a Princess ever knew that I did that for her. I never felt the need to say anything. In my life I was kind of the observer, and I had learned from years of living with a narcissist like my mother to keep things to oneself because even if it's a good thing mom had a rule to slap first and ask questions later.
I think that situation was the first time I realized the power of words. The power of the brain. The power of intelligence. I think it was the first time I realized that even against all odds, my words were important.

The J

and the A

and the P.

She was not just a bully, but a mean, racist bully. She couldn't keep friends. Someone, at many stages of her life, would play with her, or talk to her, or be around her...but one hour in her company would make that person avoid her at all costs. One time she met a little girl; I will give her the pseudonym of Angela. Angela and her family lived near us. She was 8, “NOT a Princess” was 12, and they played together....for a day, but Angela never came back. Weeks later I was playing outside, and Angela came up and we became fast friends. We were best friends for years after that! It's a friendship and memories I cherish to this day.

Angela told me she was "picked on" by a girl in the neighborhood for being Japanese. She told me that it was a fat haole girl who said she should have gotten killed in the Japanese war. I felt so bad for her....but what I didn't know was that the bully was my sister, “NOT a Princess”.

Angela and I stayed friends, and her little brother would join us, as would “NOT a Princess”, but she always accused me of "stealing" her friends. I would point out to her that no on likes a bully.

When “NOT a Princess” was 14, I had to go to Mom because “NOT a Princess” was bullying Angela and her brother terribly. She got mad at the little 7-year-old brother and pointed her hand at them, like a rifle, and told them they should have died in the "Japanese war! Don't you remember the J and the A and the A and the P?" (Her 14-year-old illiterate ass was trying to spell "Japanese” and all she could do was “The J and the A and the A and the P!) Then she made sounds from her mouth like she had a rapid fire machine gun, and swept the pretend gun at the two scared children .... 9 and 7.

I went to Mom, and she was mortified. She got in 14-year-old bully “NOT a Princess’s” face and told her that that better never happen again. She said “NOT a Princess” was too stupid to realize those children’s father did fight in the war with Japan and he sacrificed a lot! He was part of the 442nd squadron. An elite unit of Japanese American immigrants who fought Japan, their own country. They were a big reason we won that war. I was fascinated. To this day I still remember that scolding “NOT a Princess” received, and the history I learned from it. “NOT a Princess”, unfortunately, didn't learn a damn thing.

Bully.

As absurd as it sounds, it is a fact that Mom made it mandatory that I tell her if “NOT a Princess” was getting into things she wasn't supposed to. If she was eating snacks between meals (she has always been obese.) Also, I was to report if “NOT a Princess” stole something from the family or from stores. Also, if she lied about anything. As an adult and mother, I now know that my Mom should never have put that responsibility on a child of any age, let alone a toddler. Unfortunately for toddler me, I was born a responsible person, and my mother recognized that. In hindsight it amazes me, because mom was truly being lazy, by putting a child in charge of another child. The food instruction, the stealing instruction, the getting into things instructions were so detailed. It tells me now, that these behaviors were those that “NOT a Princess” had already practiced.

I remember having to tell mom, after the family went shopping one night, that “NOT a Princess” had stolen some bullets from a toy gun in a store. I don't know what Mom did.

“NOT a Princess” came to me on December 24, 1965, and I was 3 years old. She and I shared a bedroom. We had already been sent to bed, all excited because Santa Claus was going to visit as we slept. She had snuck a peek into the living room and saw what she saw. She woke me up and told me what she saw and that there was no Santa. It broke my ❤️ heart. I told her to get back in bed before mom comes into the room. Deep inside my three-year-old soul I knew that a happy and magical part of my childhood was now gone, thanks to “NOT a Princess”. I didn't say anything to “NOT a Princess”, nor to my parents. It wouldn't have done any good.

That year "Santa" brought “NOT a Princess” and me matching baby buggies. I was enchanted!!! They were pretty and what I saw as "fancy." I put my favorite stuffed animals in it. “NOT a Princess” was both a terrible bully and a brat (and she hasn't changed a bit in her 65 years.) All that morning she kept threatening to break my buggy. She threatened to throw it in the street, to cut it up with a knife or to sit in it herself. Mom kept apathetically telling her to knock it off. She didn't knock it off. In fact, in the end she jumped into my buggy, and it collapsed under her weight. I didn't cry. I had learned not to. What she had just done was expected of a bully. I had learned that logic worked better with mom than crying did.... for me, anyway. Mom had literally seen “NOT a Princess” jump into my buggy deliberately bust it. I waited for her to do something.... but she did nothing. A shoulder shrug and a smile. I tried desperately to fix my buggy, while “NOT a Princess” kept sing-song-ing about how lucky she was not to have a "stupid broken buggy." After a couple of hours of this, and mom not doing anything about it, I pointed out to mom that since “NOT a Princess” had deliberately broken my buggy, it is only fair that she gives me her buggy. Mom whole heartedly agreed and ordered “NOT a Princess” to give me her buggy in compensation. At that point “NOT a Princess” pitched a fit. Screaming, crying, stomping, throwing herself to the ground and kicked her feet and pounded her fists while screaming even louder. To shut her up, Mom placated her tantrum. “NOT a Princess” was not made to give me her buggy. I didn't cry...I buried it deep inside....this was the norm.

Tickling = Pain

From as early as I can remember not a princess used to tickle me to the extreme. She would tickle me until I cried, and still keep tickling me. She would tickle me and when I cried she would laugh. It was 100% abusive. She would scream at me to pee my pants. She said you were going to keep tickling me until I peed, but I wouldn't let that happen. Even at a young age I had an astronomical amount of dignity. It got to the point where when I was about 7 years old I realized that I had to do something about it. I told myself if she ever tickles me again I'm going to hurt her. And that's exactly what I did. When she threw me to the ground and started tickling me I kicked her in the face. I did not hold back. This was not something that I was going to hurt her a little, this was something that I was going to hurt her a lot! I had come to the conclusion that tickling needed to be pain for her. So it didn't matter what the situation, the minute she started tickling me she got hurt. And lo and behold, the tickling stopped. I was so traumatized by her tickling that to this day if somebody tickles me I hurt them. My ex-husband used to get really angry at me. He said it's different when he's tickling me. And I told him that's not the case. It's not different. He said he didn't want to miss out on that part of our relationship. I said tickling is not part of a relationship with me. I told him very clearly that if he tickles me he will get hurt. That is how badly not a princess traumatized me as a small child. Nobody for the rest of my life will ever be allowed to tickle me.

B/O & Buckshot

As a teenager, about 15 years old, "Not a Princess" had such a disgusting body oder that she made people gag. The school even called my mother because other students, forced to sit with her in class, were complaining that her stench made them sick.

Also, for years, her acne was so bad that she looked like she was shot with buckshot.

My mother tried all kinds of over-the-counter body odor products, including different and stronger soaps, "Shower to Shower" body odor powder, strong feminine hygiene products (yes, that stank, too,) strong deodorants, strongly scented shampoos, but nothing worked.

I told my mother that the problem wasn't products, it was that "Not a Princess" wasn't bathing or showering That she would literally get into the shower, for about 30 seconds, just long enough to get a little wet, and get out, considerimg that to be good enough. My mother refused to believe me. Honestly, I think my mother, first of all, didn't want to believe that "Not a Princess" be so uncouth as to not shower. Second, I don't think Mom wanted to supervise a teenager's personal hygiene. Can't blame her there, no one would want to do that.

Mom finally took "Not a Princess" to the doctor about her severe B/O. Mom was convinced that it was a hormone issue, but I kept telling her it was bad hygiene, nothing more. So they came back from the doctor's with a bunch of things that were going to treat the problem. I remember it included charcoal soap, and acne cream for her complexion, some anti-fungle cream, and powder for her body. Plus some anti-fumgle shampoo. If this didn't work the doctor was going to do possible hormone therapy. Mom gave her specific instructions on how and when to use the medication.

One month later "Not a Princess" still smelled like a corpse cooking in the sun for weeks. When questioned, she told mom that she was using the medication but it wasn't working. Mom looked at me and I shrugged. Mom went up to "Not a Princess" and my shared bathroom and saw that none of the medication had been touched. Mom was livid. Mom screached at "Not a Princess" for a good 20 minutes, threw things around, after which she grabbed a belt and gave her a spanking. Mom made "Not a Princess" get in the shower and clean her whole body, while "Not a Princess" cried, and mom stood in the bathroom, belt in hand, telling her to "Keep scrubbing!"

I quietly disappeared into my bedroom. Over the years I had learned that when Mom was in a wrath, it was stupid to put myself in her orbit, because she was very likely to turn her wrath on me. I never told mom "I told you so!" When it came to the reason behind "Not a Princess'" stench and horrific acne. I knew that she knew I was right, but I also knew she would never acknowledge she was wrong.

It took some time, but after a year or so the showers became more frequent so the stench faded as did the phone calls from a frustrated school counselor.

SUCKING MY HAIR!

I was the youngest of four daughters. When it came to our hair my mother had a rule that if we sisters kept our hair brushed, and clean we could grow our hair as long as we wanted it. It turned out I was the only daughter that was allowed to have long hair because I was the only daughter who kept it brushed and clean. The one who was made to keep it the shortest was "Not a Princess" because not only would she not bother to brush it, but she would do things like blow her nose in her own hair like a Kleenex.

My dad had a habit of sleeping on the couch, or laying on the couch while we all watch TV. That left room for somebody to sit at the end of the couch at his feet and that was usually "Not a Princess," and I usually sat on the floor with my back leaning against the arm of the couch. From an early age I discovered that while she was sitting there behind me on the couch she would grab a length of my long hair and start sucking it. Yes. She did that! I kid you not! It was gross! And I would only find out because I would reach around back to move my hair and would come across a saliva covered wad!!! It was disgusting!!! Of course I would shoot up like a firecracker and start screaming at her. She would tell me she wasn't doing anything, that she didn't realize she was doing it, or that she thought I wouldn't mind her doing it. Understand, this was not a one time thing. She did this all the time. It wasn't a case of her once playing a joke on me. She literally used my hair like a toddler uses a pacifier. And she would suck my hair into her mouth and quite large quantities. And I wouldn't realize it because my hair was down past my rear end. She did it from the time I was very young through my teenage years. If I'm laying on the floor watching TV she would come up behind me and sit down and I would be distracted and not realize that with her behind me she might do this behavior again. Of course at some point I would feel my hair being tugged and realized that it's hanging in her mouth and she's sucking it! My mother would always tell her to knock it off and yell at her. But they wouldn't punish her in any way. They would just tell me not to sit near her. Well, it was a small living room, she was at least 20 or 30 lb bigger than me, and as a little kid I would be distracted and not realize that this big gross thing was sucking on my hair behind me. It even lasted through my teen years! It became less often when I wasn't a small child that was easily distracted, but even as a teenager if I'm sitting on the couch I would realize at one point that she would be sucking my hair. And I'm talking a lot of my long hair. And I had hair so long I could sit on it and that's why I didn't realize she was doing it because it was long enough to reach her disgusting mouth. It only ended after I left home, and I didn't leave home until I was 18! And that means she was 20 years old and was still doing this! I did not sit quietly and allow this to happen! She would sneak up behind me or while I'm sleeping, or if we're sitting next to each other on the couch and watching TV she would syruptitiously grab a handful of my hair and start sucking and I did not behave quietly when I discovered it! I never looked at this as anything normal. I never looked at this as anything that I should ever allow her to do! Believe me, every time this happened to me I went off like a siren! I cannot express to you how disgustingly gross it was to find my hair covered by slimy human saliva all the time. It was SICK!!!

I honestly think in hindsight that my parents didn't do anything about it because they tried to pretend that it didn't happen. I think they were so disgusted by the fact that she did something like this that by punishing her would acknowledge the fact that she was doing something that creepy! No they definitely yelled at her and told her to stop it, but they never did anything to make it stop. It was the most disgusting thing to reach around to move your hair and find that it was saliva covered by your sister. I don't know what my sister had when it came to issues with spitting, sucking on my hair, foaming at the mouth when she's screaming, spitting while she screaming. She had a saliva kink! And she enjoyed using it on her little sister! To the point where to this day I want nothing to do with saliva. It grosses me out a hundred percent! I can't even watch a movie where somebody is spitting or sucking on things or drooling! I have to turn away because it really did traumatize me that my sister did such gross things to me!

SUCKING HER THUMB & PICKING HER NOSE.

"Not a Princess" sucked her thumb until she was 20. Actually I shouldn't say that, because I got married when I was 18 and moved out of the house. So she probably did continue this disgusting habit long after that... Maybe even to this date.

Not only did she suck her thumb, but she sucked her thumb with her index finger up her nose, digging deep, the whole time! It was very gross. Then when she pulled her finger out of her nose she would eat the boogers that came out on her finger. And she was absolutely okay with this. That's one of the reasons my parents thought that she was retarded. But they had her tested and she wasn't retarded. She was just gross and disgusting. She didn't just do this at night to comfort herself. She did it while she was sitting on the couch, while she's watching TV, while she's talking to you, while she's walking around the house... with her thumb in her mouth and her finger up her nose! It was disgusting....and she would eat the boogers!! She could have hidden her grossness but she didn't. It got to the point where I told her I would no longer talk to her if she was going to have her thumb in her mouth and finger up her nose. So when she would talk to me I would totally ignore her. That is the reason she finally stopped doing that behavior in front of me. Because I made it known that it was disgusting, I hated it, I was embarrassed by her doing it in public and that she should be ashamed of it. I pointed out she was not a little kid who needed self-comforting. I pointed out that it was disgusting and unhygienic. But honestly she didn't care about any of that stuff. She never minded being unhygienic in her life. What she minded was my not talking to her. So when I had had enough and told her while she continues to do that I will not talk to her, that is the point where she stopped doing it in front of me. She would come up to me with her thumb in her mouth and her finger up her nose, digging deep, and start talking and I would turn away. I wouldn't tell her why I turned away, I would just turn away. After a few months of that she got the hint that when she was practicing that behavior in front of me I wasn't putting up with it. At 18 I moved out of the house so I don't know if she ever stopped doing it. But to this day in my mind's eye I can still see her doing it and remember how it turned my stomach. Remember her pulling her finger out of her nose with boogers on it and then stick in that finger in her mouth and sucking it!!!! Oh!!!! it was so groooooooss!

Abuse, Spitting, Screaming, and Other Vile Behavior...in Public.

Unfortunately, from a very young age I was tasked to supervise "Not a Princess'" in every way possible. I took on the responsibility without question for many reasons. Because I always understood that I was the responsible child. Because it was expected of me. Because it was embedded in me that she needed a keeper. But mostly, because Mom told me I had to. This responsibility was placed on me when I was still a toddler and continued until the day I left home to be married.

As a toddler, mom used to have us play outside together. A lot of the time "Not a Princess" was left in a stroller to keep her reined in, otherwise she would run into the street or wander off. When I was 3 and she was 5 I was charged with supervising her. Because Mom felt I was old enough to watch her, she no longer had to stay in the stroller when playing outside.

There were times when I was able to go out by myself, and I cherished those times. For some time we lived in Waikiki. I was allowed to walk around Waikiki all by myself sometimes. I was VERY young at the time, but it was a different time in our world and children were safer. I would walk the two blocks to Woolworth's Store and buy myself a stock of sugar cane to chew on. I would walk down the main strip in Waikiki (Kalākaua Avenue,) chewing on my sugar cane and people watching. I loved browsing the ABC stores, and the many boutiques available. I would walk on Waikiki Beach and talk with the surfers, after which I would go to the Hamburger shack and buy a corn dog! Yummy!!! But my favorite thing to do was to sit with the local older ladies, who were sitting in huts, making the most beautiful flower leis to sell. They would hang the untied leis and heis along the inside, back wall of the hut, like a magnificent, colorful curtain made with expert hands and love. Sometimes the nice lady would let me make my own lei while we chatted. These days I look back at that time and it was absolutely enchanted!

As I got older, one egregious form of my supervising "Not a Princess" was when our mom made it mandatory that if I went out anywhere "Not a Princess" had to go with me.

"Not a Princess" had NO FRIENDS. NONE. ZERO. ZIP. ZILCH. The few times she had kids around her that could be potential friends for her, she would bully them, and they would want nothing to do with her. Because she had no friends, and Mom wanted her out of her hair, when I started going out with my friends, I had to drag "Not a Princess" along with me.

Now, when I talk about going out with friends, I don't mean teenagers hopping into a car and going cruzin'. Oh no. Not at all. From the time I was very young, I was an extremely independent, and very trustworthy child. And I had earned that trust. So I would take my best friend and her little brother on the bus and we would go to the mall, or the park, or the movies. "Not a Princess" in tow. I didn't complain or resent her coming with us, because it was just the way things were. I never knew a time in my young life when I wasn't supervising her.

Initially, in the first years, "Not a Princess" would behave herself on our adventures. As she got older, before we would leave, my mother would give me a long list of things "Not a Princess" was and wasn't allowed to do while we were out. Things that I had to be in control of on our adventure. First and foremost I had to make sure she did shoplift. I had to keep her by my side and watch what she did with her hands. I had to hold her money and not let her buy junk. She could only buy something that I felt wasn’t junk, or something I knew she needed. I had to make sure she didn't buy any more than one food item, because she was obese and mom didn't want it to get fatter. It was actually quite easy when it came to what she could buy. I learned over the years what was acceptable to mom and what wasn’t. If we went to the movies mom didn’t care what she bought at the concession stand, because that was what movies were for. And we all normally popcorn, a box candy and a drink. But when we were at the mall, or in Waikiki and other places, that’s when I needed to monitor her spending.

Unfortunately, as "Not a Princess" got older, she would become more abusive towards me and my friends on our outings. When I was about 12 and she was 14, her behavior started to escalate and was very ugly. She knew I had to follow mom’s instructions regarding her when we were out and about. Yet she would demand I let her buy food and other junk. She would threaten me, bow-up to me, put her fist in my face and threw clenched teeth she would threaten me. She would tell me I better let her have her money or she would kick my ass for everyone to see. She did this in public. She did this in front of my friends. She did this with our community walking by. One time a nice Hawaiian man came over and asked me if I needed help. I thanked him and told him that she was my sister and she was just throwing a temper tantrum because our mom wouldn’t let her buy food. I soooo wanted to take the man up on his offer of help. I wanted someone else to take the unjust burden off my shoulders...even if just for a moment. But I was raised to be the strong daughter, the responsible daughter. The daughter who handles everything thrown at her without complaint. After he left, “Not a Princess” started giggling and watched the man walk away with a coquettish look on her face. She turned to me and said that he came over because he was in love with her, not me. I rolled on my heels, and walked away. My friends and “Not a Princess" followed.

I dealt with this for years. I would explain to my mom how badly “Not a Princess" would behave, and she would sympathize with me, but she still tasked me to supervise “Not a Princess.”

I remember the last time I filled that roll. I was about 15. “Not a Princess" was about 17. Keep in mind this wasn’t a special trip to the mall. We either went to the mall, the movies or Waikiki every weekend. The bus system back then was magnificent. It was a beautiful day, and we had taken the bus to the mall along with my best friend and her little brother. We were all in a good mood and mainly window shopping. “Not a Princess," my friends and I bought ourselves a See’s Candy lollypop. “Not a Princess" wanted to buy herself a huge box of See’s chocolates but I reminded her that mom wouldn’t want her to buy that. She was fine with that. As we progressed through the mall, “Not a Princess" wanted to buy a pair of shorts that were too small for her. I explained that she was not a size two, but maybe we could find a pair in her size. She got angry and started yelling at me. As usual, I told her to knock it off, turned on my heels and walked away as if nothing had happened. Later she wanted to buy a giant cookie the size of a pizza. I reminded her that mom said no. I figured eating lunch would make “Not a Princess" less hungry and curb her attitude, so we all went to the Food Court and bought lunch. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

After lunch she seemed even more hungry. She wanted to buy ice cream, popcorn, candy, every treat she saw. We were in the Asian store looking at all the amazing and beautiful products on offer. It was a huge store, and they had dishes, dolls, jewelry boxes, Kimonos, gadgets, jewelry, beautiful fans, furniture and FOOD. She wanted to buy all kinds of treats, so we each got rice candy with rice paper wrapping, and another candy each. After we left that store, we continued to wander and chat. Then “Not a Princess" wanted to go back to the Food Court and buy a shake and some potato chips. It’s like she was food obsessed, and she knew I would get in trouble if I strayed too far from our mother’s instructions, but she didn’t care. I’ll admit, I am certainly no angel, and I was getting frustrated by this point. I sighed, closed my eyes, took a deep breath and reminded her that mom said no treats, and we’ve already had more than enough and lunch to boot. At that point she bowed up to me, then got in my face. She was literally screaming at the top of her lungs that she was going to buy a shake, and I needed to give her the money. I told my friends to go into the nearest store, and I would come find them in a few minutes. They couldn’t move fast enough to get away from the situation. I stood my ground and told her no. I offered to give her 25 cents so she could call mom on a pay phone and ask if she could have a shake, but that pissed her off even more, because she knew what mom would say. She was hoping to abuse me into submission. She started screaming the most foul and disgusting things at me and about me. Things my mother and father would never let us utter. All the while she was in my face and had foam forming at the corners of her mouth. I growled at her to knock it off, we are in public, and she is embarrassing me. She continued her tirade, her temper tantrum. She was so close to my face, with her foamy mouth, that as she was speaking these foul and disgusting epithets at me, she was spraying spittle in my face with every word. I told her that and she harked up a loogy and spit it dead in my face. Before I knew it, she had thrown back her arm and hauled off and slapped me right across the face.

No adults in the mall stopped to help me this time. Trying to keep from crying, through clenched teeth, I told her she had better walk away from me before I knocked her out. I told her that she would be going home in an ambulance with broken limbs if she didn’t walk away. I told her that I am going home, and she will not come with me because I had had enough of her bullshit. At first, she looked confused. She stepped back about six feet, then started up her vulgar screaming at me again and foaming at the mouth. I motioned to my friends, who stepped out of the store they ducked into, and we walked away from “Not a Princess." Her screaming followed us. At one point, I looked back and there was about 50 yards of distance between us. She had her hands clenched, was jumping up and down, her screams echoing throughout the mall. Only now she was screaming at me for not letting her come home with me.

When I got home, I described the whole incident to my mom. I held nothing back. I even had a fat lip from “Not a Princess’" slap to show for my kindness to her. I gave my mother no time to just give me sympathy. I told her that I was done. That under no circumstances was I going to be forced to take “Not a Princess" out with me ever again. No more having vulgarities thrown at me in public. No more being spit on. No more being threatened. No more public humiliation. No more deciding what an uncontrollable bully can and can’t buy. I told my mom that even if they ordered me to continue to supervise her, I wouldn’t do it. I refuse to. What really surprised me was that my mother wholeheartedly agreed!!! She said she understood and from that point on I wouldn’t be responsible for supervising “Not a Princess" when I went out with my friends. She said it was time “Not a Princess" took responsibility for herself. Her total acquiescence really did astonish the hell out of me, but I wasn’t going to ask questions!

"You just don't want me to have any friends.'

One day, when I was 14 and “Not a Princess” was 16, both our parents were gone for the day. The phone rang and I answered it on the dining room extension. The caller was obviously a grown man, or at least an older teen boy with a very deep voice. He asked specifically to speak with “Not a Princess” by name. That was the first RED FLAG for me because “Not a Princess” had no friends and had no reason to be receiving phone calls and certainly not from adult males. I asked the caller "May I ask who's calling, please?" and he said Dr Burns. That was my second RED FLAG. There's no way “Not a Princess” would have a doctor calling her. She didn't even know what brand of toothpaste she used, there was no way she could answer medical questions. I put the receiver down, walked to her bedroom and told her she had a phone call. She was absolutely giddy with excitement!! She quizzically but excitedly asked me “For me?” I nodded my head. She picked up the receiver in our parents' bedroom, but in my gut, I knew something was wrong. I decided it would be prudent of me to listen on the extension in the dining room.

The so-called doctor introduced himself as Dr Burns and told “Not a Princess” he was taking a survey, and he would like to ask her a few questions. She readily agreed while giggling. He asked her if her name was “Not a Princess” and she agreed it was (Giggle Giggle.) He asked her age and she told him 16. He asked her if she had a boyfriend, she giggled no. He asked her if she's ever kissed anyone and she said no but she wanted to. He asked her if she was still a virgin. She giggled yes. He quickly asked, "So you want to fuck?" Before she could answer, I stepped in. I screamed into the phone, in what I can only describe as a panicked screech, "Not a princess,” hang up the phone! This is a crank call! He’s a pervert!" At that point Dr Burns ignored me and asked “Not a Princess” if she'd like to have a long dick in her mouth. I yelled into phone for her to hang up!!! Not a princess still didn't hang up. She kept yelling at me to hang up! Dr Burns kept trying to ask her vulgar questions, but my disruptions were hindering his efforts.

Then I tried saying it in a very angry voice, "“Not a Princess” hang up the phone...NOW!" “Not a Princess” screamed back in the phone at me "No! This is a man calling me, not you! You’re just jealous!" At that point I just screamed in a long, high pitch, blood curdlling scream into the receiver for as long as my breath held out. In my 14 year old brain, I was hoping it would hurt Dr Burns’ ears and he would hang up. He didn’t. I hung up the extension and ran to the back, grabbed the handset out of her hand and hung up the phone. She got in my face and screamed "That was my phone call! Not yours! You just don't want me to have any friends!" I was dumbfounded. She thought this person asking her vulgar, perverted questions wanted to be her friend. It was absolutely mind-boggling. I told her he was asking sexual questions, and no doctor would call her up and ask her that kind of thing...ever. I told her this was somebody you gave our phone number to and they're making crank calls to you. I told her not to answer the phone for the rest of the day. She shot back at me that I was just jealous because she had a doctor who was in love with her, and I didn't. I just rolled my eyes in exasperation and marched my 14-year-old ass out of that room.

From that point on she kept telling anybody that would listen that she had a boyfriend who was a doctor and that I broke up the relationship. It was beyond retarded. Somedays she'd even tell people she was engaged to him. Sometimes I would correct her story if I felt the need to, but I wouldn't go into any of the vulgar parts. I would just say that somebody claiming to be a doctor made a crank call to her and I made her end the call. I did not want people to know how freaking imbecilic and immature she was, because I felt that was a reflection on me. In hindsight, I realize I felt that way because I was only 14 and I had always been responsible for covering up her idiotic behavior. So, I took it on board as if it were my problem rather than laying it at the doorstep where it belonged... Her's.

A few days later “Not a Princess” was in the front yard of our home and as I stepped around the corner of the house, into the front yard, a car was driving by with some male voices screaming “Not a Princess'” name and one of the males in the car was mooning “Not a Princess.” She was just standing there in the driveway looking confused. By the time I ran over to her, the car had passed , made a quick U-turn and was coming back from the other direction, performing an identical task of mooning “Not a Princess,” accompanied by vulgar comments and raucous male laughter. It was disgusting! “Not a Princess” was standing there like a statue. I think she was in shock. I'm sure she didn't know what to do. I grabbed her by her forearm and yanked her toward the side of the house. We went in the side entrance, and I told “Not a Princess” that everything was fine, and she needed to go to her bedroom. She went to her room without complaint, and I went straight to the front windows, closed the blinds and made sure all the doors were locked. Then I went into “Not a Princess’” bedroom and asked if she was okay. She said “Yeah.” At that point I told her not to go out again today for any reason and she said “Ok.” I went into my bedroom, and we never spoke about it again. I don't even remember if I told my mom and dad about the incident with the car. I would think I did. But I just don't remember.

NEW

My Cherished Ring

When I was very young, my second to oldest sister was laced in a mental institution. Before she went she gave me her cherished ring. I don't know where she got it. Probably from a vending machine. It was just base-metal. It was a band style of red enameled hearts. I cherished that ring. It was too big for me to wear, but I kept it safely in my jewelry box.

Years later, when I was 16 and Not a Princess was 18, I noticed she was chewing on something. Chewing on something like a cow chews its cud. It was very dramatic and she made it obvious that she wanted me to know she was eating something.

I asked her what she was eating, but she didn't answer. She just started to chew with more open mouth drama and heavy smacking sounds. I asked her again and this time she gave me a wide, devious grin. I wasn't interested in playing games. I turned around and and walked away. She ran after me and said "Look!" She then put what she was eating between her teeth and opened her mouth with a toothfull grin. I'm sure you have already guessed what it was she was chewing.

She was chewing MY CHERISHED RING.

It was now a saliva covered, distorted mass of metal, where some of the hearts were recognizable but the red enamel was almost obliterated, but was now covering Not a Princess' teeth as red specks. My stomach turned! My ring. I was so sad. I loved that ring and the memory behind it. I made her spit it out and wash it. She gave it back to me, and I tried to bend it back into its original shape to no avail. I put it back into my jewelry box and saw that she had stolen numerous jewelry items from me. A 14k gold bracelet, a 10k gold bracelet, a 14k gold, multi-gemstone ring. All pieces my dad brought home from the Vietnam war. He brought Not a Princess identical pieces as well.

A bead necklace a boy at school gave me, and a mood ring. Not a Princess denied stealing my jewelry, and tried to play innocent. I went to my mom about the theft and mom went straight into Not a Princess' jewelry box, and right on to were all my stolen items. Mom gave them back to me and grounded Not a Princess to the house for a week... which really wasn't a punishment, as Not a Princess had no friends, no life outside of the house, unless I took her with me. But it was something at least. The norm was just a rolling of the eyes with the comment of "Oh Well. That's Not a Princess. What can I do?"

She never did explain why she was fricken eating my heart ring. As I older, I figured she was jealous all those years that our sister gave me the ring and not her. And to demean me, and hurt me, she chewed it up as a game to taunt me and humiliate me.

Too bad she didn't swallow it and it get lodged in her colon!!!

Functionally Illiterate.

When it came to education, my mother always said that Not a Princess was "a hard nut to crack...or educate." My mother put not a princess into kindergarten at 4 years old. Unfortunately, "Not a Princess" failed kindergarten and had to attend kindergarten again at age 5.

The school bus just pushed he to the next grade, just to get rid of her. She just didn't want to learn. She never did her homework. She learned at an early age that if she did nothing, nothing would be expected of her....and she milked that for all it was worth. The teachers did like her, or her attitude. They didn't like trying to teach a student who didn't want to be taught. So Not a Princess was pushed by each teacher to the next grade, marking her the next teachers problem.

Finally, one teacher wasn't willing to push her to the next level. Only one teacher showed integrity. Her twelfth grad teacher had that integrity! She told my mother that Not a Princess should rightfully be in 6th grade, maybe even 4th. She said she was appalled that the school system allowed Not a Princess to refuse to learn, and she questioned as to why my mother didn't step in. What the teacher didn't know, or maybe she did know, that my mother was very much like my sister. My mother was happy to make the least effort when it came to her children. Mom had no intention of championong her illiterate daughter's education. She was ok to let her slide.

So...."Not a Princess" failed 12th grade. But for her 2nd year in 12th grade she had another teacher how just made excuses and pushed Not a Princess out. So she ended up graduating from Highschool a year late. The school labeled her as Functionally Illiterate, congratulated themselves for carrying her through school, and moved on.

My mom bought her a huge pin to wear during her graduation that read. "I Graduated 'Magna Come Lucky!' "

She was never stupid, just lazy. She always knew that if she played stupid or incompetent, not much would be expected of her, and she played that for everything it was worth.

_________________________________________

STOLEN VALOR!

She is NOT a "Sharpshooter Woman."

What is "Stolen Valor?"

Stolen Valor is the act of falsely claiming to have served in the military or to have received military medals or honors, typically to gain money, property, prestige, or other benefits, and is considered a serious offense due to its disrespect for genuine service members. It involves fabricating stories, wearing unauthorized uniforms or gear, or falsely claiming specific awards like the Purple Heart, Medal of Honor or Sharp-Shooter. Federal and state laws, like the Stolen Valor Act, make these fraudulent claims illegal when done with intent to defraud for personal gain.

Unfortunately, she is lying to her family and to the world. She only lasted a week and a half in Army Boot Camp. She never handled a weapon in that short time, but she is lying to all the people in her life who love and trust her. She is obviously trying to make herself seem more worldly, more significant than she really is. All she is doing is making a fool of herself, and of those people who trust and believe her.

. "In Army basic combat training (BCT), recruits typically first handle a rifle during the second phase, which usually occurs around weeks 3-4." (Google it.)

After being in Boot Camp for just a week and a half, she called her mother, literally crying about how hard boot was. She sobbed that boot camp was destroying her. She couldn't do the physical tests or the knowledge testing. She was failing everything.

She begged mom to let her come home. She told mom that boot was too hard, both physically and emotionally for her. That they were mean to her. They ACTUALLY expected her to wake up early!!! How dare they?!!! They expected her to do chores...CHORES!! The inhumanity!!! (She was expecting a soft and gentle DRILL SERGEANT who would let her slide!) She said that she shouldn't have to learn basic drills and marching. She said she was too important for that! And she was appalled when she found out that she had to attend classroom instruction on Army values and expectations!

She thought boot camp, and the Army, was going to be a cake walk. Like a Country Club vacation. She the Army would treat her like her family did. She thought by playing stupid and incompetent she would just be given a "pass" like she always given in life and would be allowed to be in the Army but not have to do the work. It didn't work that way this time. They gave her the heave-ho in under two weeks.

She was not honorably discharged. She received an ELS, an "Entry-Level Separation Discharge." When a soldier fails to complete Army basic training, they will typically receive an Entry-Level Separation (ELS) discharge, which is neither honorable nor dishonorable. It's an embarrassment.

She continues to tell people that she was a sharpshooter in the army. First of all, a sharpshooter would not call themselves a sharpshooter woman. They would call themselves a female sharpshooter. She was not a sharpshooter in any army, ever. If you don't believe me call her bluff. If she were a sharpshooter she would have a military medals to show for it. And if she's proud enough of being a sharpshooter that she puts it on her Facebook page, and tells people about it when she talks about her non-existent military career, she would not have gotten rid of those sharpshooter metals. If she was a sharpshooter she would have that metals stored someplace safe because she would cherish it. And she would be able to produce them at a moment's notice. Also, you could ask her to go to a shooting range, and rent a gun and show how sharp she is at shooting. Ask her to tell you how one cleans a gun. Remind her that sharpshooters usually own at least one gun. Because it is their fascination, their skill, their talent, and they would take pride in it. Sharpshooters have a skill and they practice that skill. They keep up with that skill. Sharpshooting is a special skill. Not a skill achieved by somebody who was given an ELS within the first month of being in boot.

You can Google the boot camp timeline and when they get to handle weapons.

A 1980s U.S. Army Sharpshooter Marksmanship Badge is a silver-oxidized cross patee with a target center, measuring roughly 1 inch, used to signify high proficiency in weapons handling (hitting 30-35 of 40 targets). These badges featured weapon-specific bars (e.g., Rifle, Grenade) hung below the badge.

When you earn a Marksmanship Qualification Badge at the Sharpshooter level, the primary documentation includes:

DA Form 3595-R: The scorecard used during qualification to record your hits.
DA Form 5790-R: Used specifically for specialized weapons like the M249.
ERB/SRB Update: A clerk must enter the qualification into your Enlisted Record Brief (or Soldier Record Brief) for promotion points and permanent record.
Permanent Orders: Official orders generated by your unit’s S1 to authorize the wearing of the badge

Not a princess would not be able to produce any of the above because she never was a sharpshooter in the United States army. She was never an enlisted person in the United States army. She never made it through boot camp in order to qualify as enlisted, nor as a veteran. She has no enlisted record brief or soldier record brief, and she never received permanent orders because she received the ELS. She never made it through boot camp.

NOT a Veteran

To be considered a veteran, you must have served on active duty and received a discharge under conditions other than dishonorable.

Failing out of boot camp results in an Entry Level Separation (ELS). Since you did not complete initial entry training or serve the minimum required time (typically 24 months for modern enlistments), you do not meet the legal definition of a veteran.

SALTPETER

"Not a Princess" will tell people that the military tried to poison her with saltpeter. She plays the victim with every once of her being. Having said that, she knew better, but loved to play the victim.

While saltpeter (potassium nitrate) was indeed used in the military for gunpowder and other purposes, the claim that it was added to soldiers' food to suppress libido is a persistent myth, according to Military.com and TogetherWeServed.com. Despite the rumor, there's no evidence that saltpeter has ever been used to control troops' sexual urges.

New Car

When I was 21 and she was 23, she wanted a car.

I felt bad for her and wanted to help her out. I offered to co-sign a car loan for her. I pointed out that she would have to get a job, but then she could get the car she wanted by getting a loan for it, and a loan would help her generate a credit score. I told her I would put the down payment on it, but she would have to make the monthly payments.

She was shocked that I made that offer to her...but not in the way you would think.

She got in my face, yelling at me, very angrily, "You are so selfish!!! I don't want a f**king car if you won't pay for the whole thing!!!"

At that point I rescinded the offer and told her that with that kind of attitude I wouldn't help her out with a car if my life depended on it. I told her that the offer would never be available again. She told me that was fine with her. That I was selfish for not buying her a car outright. That I was a piece of sh*t sister, because she was "poor" and deserved a new car from me. I refused and walked away from her tantrum.

Many times, over the following years, she would beg me to buy her a brand-new car, as if that had been my offer. When she became pregnant each time she tried to "guilt" me into buying her a car. She would scream at me, literally spit in my face, and tell me that I was obligated to buy her a car because I previously made the offer. I would remind her that I never offered to buy her a car. I offered to put the down payment on one, cosign for her loan and she would have to make the monthly payments. I would remind her that she refused the offer in the most ungrateful way possible, and that when she pitched a tantrum and became abusive, I would remind her that I said and meant it when I said the offer would never be made again.

I also reminded her that she had a husband. Her husband should be buying her her vehicles, not her sister. And that if she picked a man who couldn't be bothered to get a job, and who was sitting on welfare all his life just like she had done, that was not my problem, that was her problem. She chose the life of being a welfare queen married to a welfare king. She wanted a new car she needed to go to her husband and stop coming to me. I was finished with being used and abused.

I dodged THAT bullet!!!

Fake "Boyfriends."

Here she tells a lie again.... She never had a boyfriend who was a window cleaner....in the late '80's or otherwise. She also never had a military boyfriend, either.

She still claims that she had boyfriend in the military when she was 20. It's a lie...She didn't. What actually happened was that she embarrassed herself by hitting on one of my late husband's army buddies. That guy wanted nothing to do with her. He asked me to talk to her and tell her he wasn't interested. I did but she had decided he was madly in love with her obese body and acne covered face. She kept trying to get him to take her out, and he just kept telling her he was busy, or sick or going out of town. He was trying to be kind. He even told "Not a Princess" that he was being stationed to Korea for the next ten years. She convinced herself that he would take her with him. My mom and I were sitting at the mom's dining room table chatting, and she sat down with us to chat. Then "Not a Princess" told us that her "boyfriend" is being stationed to Korea...Then she turned to my mom and asked her "Korea and right below South Carolina, right?" AND SHE WAS SERIOUS!!!!! SHE THOUGHT KOREA WAS RIGHT BELOW SOUTH CAROLINA!!!

My mother was both disgusted and frustrated at her ignorance. Mom's temper flared up like a firework! She said "J*sus Chr*st! Of course, Korea is not below South Carolina! It's not even part of the United States!!! And he's not your boyfriend! He has told you he wants nothing to do with you. Can't you just be normal?! Leave the poor man alone!" "Not a Princess" just told mom she didn't know what she was talking about, and she was just jealous. (The author of this blog is Rolling her eyes from just the memory)

"Not a Princess" called him at the barracks and left message after message for him to call her....he chose not to. In the end, he ghosted her and she had to give up on him.

By the way....He never did get restationed to Korea...or below South Carolina!

Surgery: Disgusting Treatment of the Nicest People in the World. Then Decades of Lying & Playing the Victim.

* NEW *

VW Van Life

When I was 19, I was married to a brutally abusive man. So brutal that he put me in a coma just two weeks after I gave birth to our son. I was so proud of my baby. I was so delighted to have something so wonderful in my life. I wanted to show him off to the world! When the baby was a couple of months old, I went to my friend’s house. She was still living with her parents at the time. She’s the same friend I mentioned about who Not a Princess would be racist to during our childhood because she was Japanese. My husband was gone for a week at Military operations, so I had full use of the car.

I drove the baby and myself to their house and spent a really nice time with my friend, her brother, her parents and grandmother. It was warm and welcoming to a scared teen who was being brutalized on a regular basis by her husband, and whose own family didn’t care.

At some point during the evening, my friends father (let’s call him Mr. A) asked how I got to the house. I told him I drove. It was at that point he gave me a very angry look. I had no idea why Mr. A was so angry, and at me! I was too timid to ask and he didn’t seem to want to say. Finally, he asked me whose car I used to drive to their house. I told him that I drove my own car. At that point the anger-cloud left Mr. A’s face. After that, the rest of the evening went on swimmingly.

The next day I went to visit my mother. We talked about the evening before, and I asked her if she knew why Mr. A gave me that look….and she did. It turned out that while our mom and dad were on vacation, they left 21-year-old “Not a Princess” to house sit. That was their first mistake. She was the least responsible person ever born, and they were lucky she didn’t burn their house down. Early one evening, Not a Princess decided to take our parents VW van for a joyride. She was 21 years old, and had no idea how to drive. She had never been behind the wheel. She just decided, in her narcissism, that because she wanted to drive, she could drive. She decided that she was going to visit my friend and her family (Mr. A’s family.) By the time she reached Mr. A’s house, she had crashed into 4 of his neighbor’s mailboxes, tore up 5 manicured lawns, cracked the lid and tank of an underground septic tank and crashed into the back of a car that was parked in front of Mr. A house!!!

THAT is why he gave me the dirty look when I went to visit them with my baby…He thought I had stollen my parent’s car like Not a Princess had. Keep in mind, this was not some 15-year-old teen out for a joyride. This was a fully grown 21-year-old adult brat of a woman, who in her narcissism, decided she could drive. Well, she found out not only couldn’t she drive, but she couldn’t park either! Mom showed me the damage to the van. The whole right side was caved in and scrapped. The sliding door wasn’t working. The front end was caved in. Mom said the strangest thing was that after she did this, she knocked on Mr. A’s door, went in their house and acted like nothing happened...until the neighbors came knocking on Mr. A’s door. They demanded he pay for the damaged lawns and mailboxes. So, because of 21-year-old Not a Princess, my parents had to pay to re-landscape 5 manicured lawns, replace one septic tank, replace 4 mailboxes and repair 2 badly damaged vehicles. It cost them tens of thousands of dollars that they didn’t have.

Because their daughter was left to house-sit and she used the keys they left at home to steal the van, their car insurance denied their claim to repair the cars. My parents had to get a loan to have everything repaired. They had to get a loan to pay for two cars, a septic tank, manicured lawns and mailboxes. Not a Princess acted like it was no big deal. Actually, it was no big deal…To HER! She knew she wouldn’t have to pay a dime. She knew all she had to do was let a tear run down one cheek, or throw herself on the floor, kicking and screaming, and she wouldn’t have to pay a dime. NOTHING would be expected of her…as per usual. She devastated my parents’ finances. In the end, our parents had to move away, to a cheaper state to live in.

Evicted!!!!

When she was about 22, she was renting a nice little studio apartment in a high-rise apartment building in Honolulu. It was actually quite pretty, and it had a gorgeous view from the balcony. She wasn't working. She was collecting welfare. As she had from the day she turned 18. About 8 months into her tenancy her mother received a phone call from the landlord. He had tracked the mother down to let her know that “NOT a Princess” was 4 months behind on her rent and the 5th months payment was due the next week.

Her mother was angry... really angry at “NOT a Princess”. Her mother had worked “NOT a Princess’s” finances, making sure she could afford the apartment, found the beautiful apartment and helped her move in....and “NOT a Princess” screwed it up!

When her mom asked “NOT a Princess” how she could have let herself get so far behind in rent, when the mom knew she had the welfare income to support it, she was shocked to hear “NOT a Princess” answer.

“NOT a Princess” said, in reference to the landlord...."If he's rich enough to own this place, he doesn't need MY money!!!!!" She said that in all seriousness!! She expected to live for free because the landlord could afford a place like that to rent. The Absolute Entitlement!!!!

“NOT a Princess” hadn't been saving the back rent money either. She went crazy on Impulse purchases. She ate herself sick...She had been eating her way through the money and having a grand old time doing it. She ordered pizzas and other fast foods delivered. She did most of her grocery shopping at convenience stores and paid for the convenience of doing so. She went out to eat every meal, unless she was ordering in. She stocked her fridge and cupboards with mass quantities of junk food. She spent money on things like musical instruments, stickers, stuffed animals, clothes that didn't even fit her, taxis everywhere, even places that were within walking distance. She would rent a motel room and only stay for an hour...just long enough to eat her takeout food in private.

My mom ended up asking me to loan “NOT a Princess” the back rent, and to keep “NOT a Princess” from getting sued. Mom promised she would make sure “NOT a Princess” paid me back. So, I did it, only after that, both “NOT a Princess” and my mother acted like the loan never took place. I never got a penny paid back, and they both acted like I was unreasonable to have expected a loan to be paid back. I knew I had to kiss the money goodbye, but I also knew I would never loan either of them money again. Get a Job!!!!

Stupid me, I didn't learn my lesson.

$$$$ Redecorated. $$$$

When she was renting a bedroom in a boarding house, I wanted to surprise her and make her happy. I surprised her with all new bedding, including a beautiful floral bedspread and matching pillow sham. New rugs. A matching lamp. Matching curtains. New towels and wash rags. And a brand new, state-of-the-art TV.

All I asked of her was that if she ever gets rid of the TV, that I get first dibs on taking it. She agreed, with no hesitation.

Also, she had two cats at that time. One named Baby and the other named Charmin. I also wanted to include her fur-babies in the redecorating so I bought her a really pretty cat bed that was in the same color palette as the room. I also got them a whole bunch of new cat toys. But guess what? She yelled at me because I only bought one cat bed. She was thoroughly pissed off and yelled at me because she felt I wasn't generous enough to her. First of all I know cats. Cats share cat beds. They prefer to share them. Even if they're not sharing them they never mind one being in it and the other one being on the bed or switching back and forth throughout the day. Factually, the woman was literally living with the two cats in one bedroom. Yes, "Not a Princess" was renting one-bedroom out in boarding house. So there wasn't even room for two cat beds. Having said that, this ungrateful bitch spent about 10 minutes yelling at me, bitching and complaining about how unfair, ungenerous and uncaring I was because I only bought her cats one cat bed... And she followed up with saying that she was sure he cats probably weren't going to like the toys either. This is a perfect example of this woman's lifelong enjoyment of entitlement. It is disgusting.

A few years later she was talking about how she had bought a new TV for herself. I asked her about the TV I bought her and she said she gave it to her in-laws. I told her that she agreed to give me first dibs, and why didn't that happen? She stuck her finger in my face and yelled at me that her in-laws were poor, and I was a piece of shit thinking that the TV should have come back to me. It didn't matter to her one bit that the money I had used to buy her that TV, and the other items, was money that I could have been using and raising my toddler son. Honestly, her narcissism and selfishness was the only thing that mattered to her. It was a huge eye opener for me.

I don't think it even crossed her mind that if her word should have meant something, If she had given me the option to get it back, but told me that her in-laws were poor and would really benefit from having the TV, I would have happily relinquished my claim to it and let her in-laws have it. But instead, she tried to make me the Valian and guilt me into somehow thinking that what she did was the right thing. It didn't work. All it did was remind me that her word meant nothing...absolutely nothing.

Or even if she had just told me she forgot our deal and was sorry, I would have felt better about the whole thing.

I never offered to redecorate her bedroom or home again.

Family session w/ Violet's psychologist.

She was still living at home with my parents when I left home and got married at 18. Mom wanted to have “Empty Nest Syndrome” so bad!!!! Unfortunately, “Not a Princess” wouldn’t move out! Mom kept telling “Not a Princess” to get a job and find a place to live, but “Not a Princess” would lie and say there were no jobs to be found. Finally, mom took the bull by the horns and found “Not a Princess” a job (which she quicky was fired from) and a nice apartment to rent (which she was evicted from.)

When “Not a Princess” was about 19 she was still living at home with my parents and me. I was two years younger, so I was still a minor. My mom tried to find her a job she would like, something that would be easy enough for her to do, maybe even attract her interest so she might even keep it. Unfortunately, “Not a Princess” was fired after two weeks. Her cash register till always had discrepancies at the end of each day. She had no problem getting fired but it upset my parents greatly. She felt that working for a living was too hard for her, and certainly beneath her. When not a princess was 20 our mother went to the State and asked them to have her tested again and at 20 years old she was seeing a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist diagnosed her with “Dependency Syndrome.” What that means is she was too dependent on me and our parents, and she liked it that way. She expected us to clothe her, house her, feed her, entertain her and totally take care of every corner of her life. She wanted no responsibility and no work. Because of the “Dependency Syndrome” diagnosis “Not a Princess” was given a monthly government check, a free psychiatrist, a social worker, and part of her rent was paid by the government, food stamps, and 100% health coverage. All paid for by the US Taxpayer.

After I was widowed with a child I moved back into my parent’s home to help me get back on my feet. One night when she was staying at my mom's “Not a Princess” and I were sitting outside on the lanai, and she turned to me and said "I'm not crazy you know." I asked her what she meant. She said “Well, I know that they think that I'm crazy and dependent on Mom and Dad and you, but I'm not." She got what I can only describe as a smirk on her face, and she said, "I figured out how to get everything I want and those stupid people are giving it to me.” I believe I looked at her quizzically. She said she figured out that “all I have to do is once a month go see the psychiatrist, act crazy in her office and she signs off on my welfare check." She laughed her ass off because she thought what she was doing was hilarious. I was shocked. I was so young back then, I didn't realize that people did this, and I certainly didn't realize that my own sister was this conniving and unethical. I told her that that was illegal. She said she knew and didn't have a problem with it. She said nobody was going to ever find out. She said she figured this out years ago and it's worked for her, and she doesn't care that other people are paying her bills. She said she deserves to have her bills paid by the government because getting a job is hard for her and is beneath her. She said she deserves better than to have to work for a living. She said to me, “Now see how smart I am?”

I just got up and left. went back to my room.

Two weeks later “Not a Princess’” psychologist called my mother and wanted to have what was called a family visit. The psychologist wanted to get an idea of the family, the people that surround her, her support system, and it would be good to put faces to names. She thought she could help “Not a Princess” even better if she met the family. So, my mother and father, my three young nieces and nephew, my son who was a toddler at the time, and me, all went to her psychologist's office. “Not a Princess” was already in the psychologist's office and when she saw me, she freaked! Either the psychologist didn’t tell her that this meeting was taking place, or she didn’t realize that I was going to be part of it. In any case, “Not a Princess” started screaming and literally throwing a temper tantrum. She was screaming that I was not allowed into the meeting. And that if I went in to the meeting that she was going to leave. She was saying that I had nothing to do with it and that it was her psychologist and I better not be allowed in. When I said she was pitching a temper tantrum I am not exaggerating. She was pointing at me through the doorway screaming, slobbering down her chin, and at one point this 22-year-old woman threw herself on the floor and started kicking her feet and pounding her hands saying that she was going to kill herself if I was allowed in the meeting! At first, I was confused and dumbfounded. Then it dawned on me... She did not want me to repeat what she had said to me two weeks earlier about conning the psychologist and gaming the system. She was terrified that I was going to say something. It also showed me exactly how she behaved in the psychologist’s office in order to “look crazy.” I saw her behavior from one point of view while the psychiatrist saw it from another point of view. Unfortunately, I was the one that was seeing her behavior as to what it truly was…a con…faker…a leech…a bloodsucker…a cling-on…a turd hanging from the sphincter of the US Taxpayer….a welfare queen.

The psychiatrist was very conciliatory to “Not a Princess” and very apologetic to me. She explained that it would probably be better if I stayed out in the waiting room so the it didn’t upset “Not a Princess” so much. I did not have a problem with that. I did not want to put up with that BS that she was pulling. My son and I waited for the meeting to end. I grabbed the magazine, and I remember I sat there reading the magazine and I literally had to smile on my face. I knew she was just terrified of the possibility that I was going to blow open her con.

And hindsight I don't know if I should have asked to speak to the psychiatrist on my own, or called her at a later point, and let her in on what “Not a Princess” was pulling. Honestly, I had so much going on in my life that I hadn't even thought about following up with the psychiatrist. I wish I had. Because this woman has spent every day from the day she turned 18 till now on the doles. it was and is my federal taxes that pay for her to sit on her ass everyday and do nothing. She has figured out the system to the point where she even married a welfare king, knowing that she could live off his welfare if her con ended. Then she had the typical welfare babies. With every baby she had her welfare check grew. And then she had what she calls and “oops baby.” That was no oops baby, that was one of those desperate, last minute babies that a welfare queen is known to have in order to keep the welfare checks coming for the next 18 years. No oops about it.

Deposit Checks Into My Account.

I used to let her deposit checks into my account, because I figured she needed the help because she didn't have good credit and couldn't get a checking account of her own. So I would take her to the bank and she deposited into my account and I would give her the cash. There was never a thought of getting any kind of interest or anything. It's my sister, she needed to cash a check, so I let her do it against my account. Unfortunately she began to take advantage of that. She started cashing checks that bounced. She would assure me that they were good checks that a friend loaned her money, or that it was a government check. But after the second one bounced and she never bothered to pay me back, ever, I stopped allowing her to do that. No more cashing checks against my account. And did she take it like an adult? Oh, hell no! She acted like I was the bad person. I was supposed to just "understand" that she was poor so if she deposited checks that bounced in my account I was supposed to just think that's okay and be okay with losing the money to her. The first time I told her no, she pitched the biggest fit. Because if she pitched a fit to my parents she usually got what you wanted. She never did with me. But she tried. It was a typical fit where she would have foam coming out of her mouth while screaming, using foul language, all but getting on the floor and pounding her hands and legs like a toddler, as is her want. Keep in mind, after the second check bounced I wasn't having any more of that. I didn't care what kind of fit she pitched, I was sick of losing money to her. After a while she stopped asking and I don't know who she conned at that point into cashing her checks, but it wasn't me.

Meet Toofless-Tufeea

After "Not a Princess" became quickly engaged, "Not a Princess" brought her fiancé to her parent's house to meet the family. Her parents weren't at all bothered by the fact that she was 4 years older than him...they were thrilled that someone was willing to take her of their hands.

"Not a Princess" was as giddy as a school girl when she introduced Tufeea to all of us. My dad shook Tufeea's hand and said 'Nice to meet you." Tufeea kept his head down and mumbled something incoherent in return. She then introduced Tufeea to the rest of us, and with each introduction Tufeea mumbled something incoherent behind his hand. I thought it sounded like he was repeating his own name, but I soon gave it no more thought. Most of the time Tufeea sat in the rocker with his head down, only mumbling incoherent replies to chit-chat from the family. He always put his hand in front of his mouth whenever he spoke, and I concluded that he was trying to hide the fact that his two front teeth were missing. The hand in front of the mouth made the mumbling replies all the more difficult to understand, especially for our father, who was hard of hearing.

Mom had made a nice dinner. We gathered at the table, my husband and son, my parents, along with Tufeea and "Not a Princess." It was a good meal, and we all laughed and bantered. Tufeea joined in but still kept repeating his own name to us and still held his hand over his mouth.

After dinner Tufeea and my dad were the first in the living room, and from the dining room I saw Tufeea lean into my dad's ear and say something to him. Dad looked shocked, then furious.

I can still hear my dad's angry, flabbergasted voice as he yelled from the living room to "Not a Princess, "Jesus Christ (Her Name!) You told us his name is Tufeea but that's not even his name! You're engaged to him and you don't even know his God Damn name?!"

"Not a Princess" stood in the dining room looking shame faced. She whined loudly, "I didn't know. He never told me!!"

In disgust and frustration, Dad said "What do you mean he never told you? He never told you his name? Or you couldn't be bothered to learn it?"

It turns out all the mumbling we heard from "Not a Prince, Tufeea" all night, with his hand over his mouth, he was actually correcting us. Because he had been introduced to us as Tufeea, by his own fiancé who couldn't even be bothered to learn his name, every time we referred to him as Tufeea, he gave a mumbled correction of his real name.

Dad harrumphed in disgust and disappointment in his extremly uneducated offspring and the absurdity of the situation. Dad sat down on the couch and kept his conversation going with 'Not a Prince" all the while trying to pretend "Not a Princess" wasn't a Grade-A Moron.

Your chauffeur madam!

One time Violet called the ambulance. For the life of me right now I can't remember the reason. But anyway the ambulance showed up and they took her to the hospital. This is not to be confused with the time that they refuse to take her to the hospital later in life when she was pregnant.
Not a princess told me that a few years later, When she finally got a boyfriend, not a prince, and one day they were talking and she brought up the fact that there was this one time she had to go to the hospital and ambulance. Well he told her that he remembered her because he was the driver of the ambulance that took her to the hospital that night. And she was absolutely giddy over that fact.
I, and my typical cynicism, said her I thought he is an epileptic and always has been. And she is affirmed that he was. My mother piped in at that point and said So how could he be driving an ambulance.? Not a princess said It didn't matter because he was. Because hospitals trusted him. Rolling my eyes.
I pointed out to her that having a epileptic driving an ambulance would be an insurance nightmare for an ambulance company. They are not going to hire epileptics who could go into a seizure any minute. But not a princess refused to believe it.
My mother called me a couple days later and said that she had called the ambulance company that picked up not a princess that night and was given some interesting information. The ambulance company said they would never hire an epileptic as a driver. Ever. They probably couldn't even get insurance for their company if they did. Not only that but ambulance companies don't just have drivers. Ambulances aren't just chauffeured around by some driver. Everybody in the ambulance has to be an EMT. There cannot be wasted space in an ambulance. So they don't just hire someone who does nothing but drives. Everybody working inside and ambulance, including the driver, has to be an a number one certified EMT. And that is not only this company of ambulances, but all ambulance companies.
And to be honest about it, because my mother didn't always tell me the truth, I picked up the phone and I called the ambulance company as well. The nice man who I spoke with remembered speaking with my mother, and he told me that the exact same thing he told Mom. That they would never be insured if they hired an epileptic to drive an ambulance. Plus every person that works in ambulance has to be an EMT. With no exception. They cannot have wasted space in an ambulance. They cannot have dead weight.
The guy actually wanted me to give him not a princess's name, so he could give her a call and find out why She was telling people this, which could potentially give his business a bad reputation. I declined to give him that information, but I did a short him that this person was repeating a story that she had been told by her boyfriend, and that I would make sure that she was given corrected information, and she would stop telling people the story about their ambulance company. He seems satisfied and we ended the phone call on great terms.
I did tell not a princess this information, but she refused to comprehend. I think it made her feel important and special, thinking that not a prince was her chauffeur in the ambulance. I just don't understand why he had to lie. But then again two peas in a pod. Couple liars, enjoying life, lying to each other, lined everybody else, lying together.

Christmas Time

Every Christmas I would buy gifts for not a princess, her husband not a prince, and her children. I would always wrap them and put pretty bows and when I would give them to not a princess I would never get a thank you. What she would do is tell me after Christmas how her kids didn't like the gift. How I was cheap. How nobody liked their gifts.

Finally I decided that I was done with taking that abuse. I was spending good money, that could have gone to my family, and gifts for my kids on her family. And I never forgot her husband. I never forgot her. And her kids had nice Christmases because of me. But I was done taking the abuse. But like an idiot I wasn't done buying her gifts. I made a deal with my mom that I would continue to buy the gifts but my mom would take the credit. Because I wasn't buying them for credit. I was buying them to make sure her kids had a nice Christmas. But I also wasn't buying them to get abused and a verbal lashing after Christmas every year. So my mom would deliver the gifts and take the credit.

When my husband was transferred from the islands to the mainland My kids and I went to the Disney store and bought Not a princess's kids a bunch of Disney toys. Because I had boys and I was buying for little girls I was in 7th heaven. It was our last Christmas before we left so we went to visit them at Christmas time. Before Christmas actually. My sister was so rude. We stood out on the entry hallway to their apartment and she wouldn't let us in. I told her that we brought the kids some gifts for Christmas because this was our last Christmas and I wanted to say goodbye. Her comment was that's the least I could do.

So to receive her gifts she had the girls come out on the front hallway which was open to the air and we all chatted. The girls look like deers caught in a headlights They were young and probably didn't know who we were. I introduced all of us but they just looked like we were aliens to them. Which was fine, because knowing what I know now she probably said terrible things about me and my family to her children. So why wouldn't they look at us like we were a threat. Not a princess told us we can't come inside but she didn't tell us why. But as soon as she open the door to call to the kids I could see why. Her house was filthy. Not with toys and everyday living items on the floor We are talking filth! And the stitch that came out of the house was nasty. They lived on the second floor by the way. So it's not like we could back away from the door further we had to deal with the stench that came out of the apartment. Not only that but there was animal feces all over the floor. At least I hope it was animal feces. That's what I'm going with.

She told us that her husband was out looking for a job. And we smiled and nodded and said that's a shame because it would have been nice to see him. And we stood on the landing of her apartment at the front door and chatted and talked to the kids and my kids talk to her kids. And all of a sudden the door opened and walked out her husband, not a prince. She looked totally shame-faced because she knew that she had told us that he was gone looking for a job, but lo and behold he steps out of the house. I always picture that either he was still in the house and didn't want to come out and visit, or she didn't want him to come out, or he climbed up the back part of the house to the second story and came in that way and then stepped out the front door. I know the last scenarios not true but it sure is the funniest.

So we took pictures and we chatted and in the end hug the girls hug my sister and brother-in-law, and we went home. After that my mother told me that not a princess did nothing but complain about what I had bought them. That the old scenario continued. Even though I went to the Disney store and bought very expensive gifts that little girls would cherish, their mother still wasn't gracious enough to be thankful. Somebody thought about her children. I'll tell you what as a mother myself when people have thought about my children I have been more than thankful. And I certainly have been gracious in my thanks.

Yes I continued to send them gifts for the next couple of years but there was a point where I was done. Done with being told that what I got them wasn't good enough, or that I could have done better, or that I was cheap. There was a point where I said these parents need to take care of their own children's Christmas. Just like I do my own children. Keep in mind my parents didn't get them gifts. They didn't get them gifts because my parents were on a very tight budget. My sisters didn't get not a princess in her children any gifts for any holiday. I was the only one in the entire family who ever bought gifts for any of the family members. And I don't want a cardboard cookie for the gesture, but it would have been nice to have a thank you now and then. From everybody. Because we were all raised to have better manners than what they showed me in my family.

My mother said after that Not a princess would then complain that I had stopped sending gifts. She never wants thought maybe I should have been more gracious. Maybe I should have said thank you instead of fuck you.

Strange Visit

In 1988, she came to my home and brought two women with her that she claimed were her husband's cousins. They all seemed uncomfortable, and the cousins barely said a word. “NOT a Princess” complained about her husband's family....with two of them sitting right there. It was so strange. Finally, “NOT a Princess” got to the point and asked me to "loan" her money for a motel room so they could get away from her disgusting in-laws. She said she would pay me back from her next welfare check. I declined to give her money, and they all left shortly thereafter.

It was truly strange. (Shaking my head!)

Two Cups of Blood!

In late 1987 I received a tearful phone call from “Not a Princess.” She was about 7 months pregnant at this time. She was in a panic. Soon as she heard my voice she started crying. Keep in mind, she didn't call her mom, she didn't call her dad, she didn't call any of our other sisters, she didn't call her mother-in-law, she called me. She knew that in times of trouble I was her champion and had been all her life. She knew she could trust me and rely on my common sense and courage in any situation thrown at me.

She was relatively incoherent, and I had to calm her down. Finally, she told me that she was scared because she was having vaginal bleeding and she was afraid she was going to lose the baby. Except she used vulgar terms to describe what was happening. She was still practically hysterical. She told me that she had called the ambulance, but the paramedics refused to take her to the hospital. Of course that lit me off like a firecracker! I was dumbfounded that an ambulance crew was refusing to take a pregnant woman with vaginal bleeding to the hospital. I asked her how much had she bled in the last hour? She told me about two cups. In shock I repeated, “Two cups? Like two cups of water?” She said yes. I asked her if she had told the paramedics this and she said yes, but they still refused to take her to the hospital. I demanded to speak with one of the paramedics. She put a paramedic on the phone, and I lit into him! I explained who I was and I demanded to know why they were not taking a pregnant woman to the hospital when she's having vaginal bleeding? I told him that losing two cups of blood shows there is a threat to the baby! I asked him why is it that I had to tell him how to do his job? And when I said it, I did not say it with a kind or conciliatory tone of voice. I demanded to know. One might even say I was in full out Karen mode!

The Paramedic was very patient with me. He said they had checked her out and her vitals were normal, and the baby was not in any distress.
I am so glad I was listening and not unreasonably upset because the next words out of the paramedic’s mouth shut me right down! Instantly! He said she wasn’t having vaginal bleeding ma'am, she had bleeding hemorrhoids. I was mortified! She lied to me to get me to convince the paramedics to take her to the Emergency Room for bleeding-fricken-hemorrhoids!
Oh my God! I apologized to the paramedic profusely. He said that was ok. He said that he understood because he had heard what “Not a Princess” had told me. I took a deep breath, and I asked the paramedic if bleeding hemorrhoids was something that they should take her to the hospital for. He said absolutely not, and the baby is in no danger, and neither was the mom. He said that he had advised her that if it continues, she can certainly go to the emergency room, or to a clinic, but it is not something that they can transport her to the hospital for.

I apologized again to the poor, abused paramedic and thanked him for being patient with me. I also thanked him for being patient with my sister, and he told me I was very welcome.
He handed the phone back to “Not a Princess”, I told her she had put me in a terrible, and embarrassing position and I had scolded that parametric because of her lies. I asked her why she told me she had vaginal bleeding? She said she thought it was vaginal bleeding. She didn't think it was from her butt. I asked her then why did she tell me that she had bled out two cups in the last hour, when all it was, was hemorrhoid spotting? She said she didn’t know why she said two cups…She just said it.

I asked her how is it a 27-year-old, sexually active, woman couldn't tell the difference between her anus and her vagina?! Not only that, hemorrhoids are painful and when you wipe yourself your anus hurts, not your vagina! I just couldn't fathom how this grown woman could have made that mistake!!! I was flabbergasted to my core!!! It was quite clear that “Not a Princess” was upset that they wouldn’t give her free transportation to the hospital, not because she thought the baby was in jeopardy, but because it took less effort to be chauffeured there in an ambulance then it does to take the bus, and being on the doles, an ambulance ride costs her nothing, but would be billed to the taxpayer. And she know that if she filled me with lies, that I would champion her cause and make it happen. She didn’t count on the fact that I would actually listen to the parametric, and understand “Not a Princess’” BS con!

The fact of the matter is it was just another case of “Not a Princess” wanting to cause drama, and do the lazy thing. She lived and continues to live on drama and wanting to put forth the least amount of effort.
I told “Not a Princess” that she needed to quit the drama. This was not the first time she pulled a stunt like this and I was sick of it. She said “I know.” I told her to get some sleep. Wished her a good night and hung up the phone.

I was waffling between disgust, mortification, and confusion. I was so glad I was not face to face with that paramedic, because if I ever met him on the street I would be embarrassed if he remembered that I'm the woman that yelled at him about bleeding hemorrhoids!

No "Y."

When my “NOT a Princess’s” oldest daughter was born she named her Kayla. She told me that she named her after her favorite soap opera character. I later heard “NOT a Princess” till our mother that the name Kayla was the Hawaiian name and that's why she named her Kayla. I was confused. I asked “NOT a Princess” am I wrong? Didn't you tell me you named her Kayla after your favorite soap opera character? “NOT a Princess” called me a liar and said that it was a beautiful Hawaiian name and she's always loved it. My mother told me that “NOT a Princess” would never be stupid enough to name a child after a soap opera character. I shrugged my shoulders and walked away, knowing “NOT a Princess” was lying, and not caring that my mother believed her.

My mother did get her comeuppance though. My parents went to a party with some relatively important guests. My mother was seated next to a Hawaiian history professor and was thrilled to pick his brain about all things Hawaiian. My mother told me she was absolutely humiliated, because she bragged to this Hawaiian history professor that her granddaughter had a beautiful Hawaiian name. And that name was Kayla. The professor asked my mother how that was spelled. When my mother spelled K*y**, the professor gently pointed out to her that there is no letter y in the Hawaiian language. In fact, there is no word that sounds like Kayla in the Hawaiian language. My mother said she was mortified. She said the embarrassment almost ruined the rest of the evening for her. She also had to contend with the fact that there were other people that she had told that her granddaughter's name Kayla was a Hawaiian name. So, she had that to live with as well. She couldn't believe that she believed another one of “NOT a Princess’s” lies.

Unfortunately for my mother I didn't have a whole lot of sympathy for her. I reminded her right then and there that I had told her that “NOT a Princess” name that baby after a soap opera character, and that she was not willing to listen to me. I reminded her that “NOT a Princess” was a chronic liar and she chose to believe the chronic liar. My mother being my mother she didn't apologize to me. She just vowed never to believe “NOT a Princess” again.

NEW

Not a Prince, Junior.

When “Not a Princess” was 29, her baby was stillborn. I guarantee you that any "trauma" she shows about having lost the baby is all for show. During her pregnancy, at about the beginning of the second trimester she only sporadically went to her OB/GYN appointments. By the end of the third trimester, she stopped going altogether...Even though she had 100% free health care courtesy of the US Taxpayer. She gave every excuse in the book…her “legs hurt”…her back hurt…she had a headache… She was too tired…She didn’t like riding busses with “old people.” Numerous excuses. I told her she needed to do it for her baby. Unfortunately, thanks to “Not a Princess”, the baby was on its own. I offered to pick her up and take her to her appointment a few times, but she always turned me down because her legs or back hurt…she was sick….or because her husband didn’t want her to go to the appointment. I stopped offering.

“Not a Princess” called me from the hospital because the baby was stillborn. He had passed away inside of her weeks before and had been decomposing inside of her. She didn’t know he passed because she was too lazy to go to her doctor’s appointments. If she had gone to the doctors, they may have seen that the baby was in distress and may have been able to save it. If nothing else, she may have been able to give the baby a more dignified end-of-life than it had. But her legs hurt, she had a headache, she hated old people on the bus….

I jumped into the car immediately and drove to the hospital to comfort her. It surprised me because she wasn't in the maternity ward. Turns out she had been behaving abhorrently to the nursing staff and new moms on the maternity ward, so they moved her to the cardiac ward. They told her they moved her so she wouldn't have to hear crying babies, but a nurse told me that they had to move her because she was yelling at the top of her lungs, in the maternity ward, that all the new moms were “Bitches" "Cunts" and "Pieces of Shit" and she hoped all their new babies died. No matter what she was going through, THAT was a disgusting, disturbing and revolting way for her to behave, and she knew better…she was enjoying being the center of attention…the “main character” in the drama. She was using the circumstances to create as much drama, and to bully and abuse as many people as she could. Even in the cardiac ward, she was still screaming. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t forlorn, despondent, inconsolable, melancholy, or withdrawn. She was an embarrassment! She was a bully!!! She was calling the nurses names...demanding the nurses leave the room because they were “bothering” her, only to bang on the Nurse Call Button and demand to know what took them so long to come to her room! She even threw things from her throne on the bed at the nurses. The nurses were showing the patience of Saints…but make no mistake, they hated her guts…and for good reason! I spent half my time there trying to console “Not a Princess”, and the other half telling her to knock it off and behave herself. Finally, I’d had enough and I leaned in and whispered in her ear, that if she threw one more thing at the nurses, I would dump the pitcher of water on her head…and she knew I’d do it. That seemed to shock her into, at least, not throwing projectiles at the poor nurses while I was there. After I left, it became a free-for-all again. She was putting on a SHOW. Period. She found an excuse to be abusive and she ran with it. Her victim card had been recharged with currency, and she wasn’t going to let a crisis go to waste.

Throughout the subsequent years, she has taken great pleasure in using the loss of the baby as emotional blackmail to those who were/are vulnerable to it. It is the ONE thing that she has that she could use against her family and make herself the sympathetic, main character. That victim card has been her close companion, lo these many years. Instead of showing her family that she can be strong and a great role model, she prefers the victim card where she can control her family by manipulating their hearts.

After the baby was stillborn, I made a financial donation to the United Way, in the name of the baby, and gave “Not a Princess” the beautiful “Thank You” letter the charity sent me. Instead of any sort of appreciation, or taking any comfort from it, “Not a Princess” called our mother to complain that I should have given “Not a Princess” the money, not donated it to charity. Mom said she ranted about it for a good ten minutes. How she was poor and needed the money, and I was selfish by giving it to a charity. She told my mom that I should at least match my donation and give her the same amount of money right now! Nope…I didn’t give in to her demands. I couldn’t be manipulated, even when she tried to use our mother as the middleman. When all was said and done, “Not a Princess” never said a word to me about the donation in her son’s name…not even a polite thank you.

Years later, our mother said she was grateful to God that “Not a Princess” lost the baby. She said “Not a Princess” wasn’t responsible enough, or caring enough to deal with a special needs baby, child, and later an adult. Mom felt the baby would have been neglected all its life. “Not a Princess’s” behavior during that pregnancy is a perfect example that shows what mom thought wasn’t unfounded. She did the same things when it came to her girls. She would call me because one of her girls was sick and she wanted advice. I would give advice, but also tell her to take them to the doctors, but she couldn’t because…. her “legs hurt”...she had a "headache"…her back hurt… She was too tired…She didn’t like riding busses with “old people.”

Trip to the Mainland.

In 1992 my husband, my two boys and I went on a trip from the Islands to the West Coast of America. Side note, and just a humble brag, I had saved for years so that we went on that trip debt free. That trip was paid for with cash. Not literally cash, because we used our debit cards. But the whole trip, because of my saving the money for it, was 100% cash only.

My parents had moved to the mainland, so we were going to Disneyland with the boys and afterwards going to visit my parents.

When not a princess found out that we were going on this trip she got angry because we weren't taking her and her family on the trip. She said that I was a terrible sister because I wasn't taking her and her family along. She called me ugly names like selfish, evil, cheap, liar....and more. Now it wasn't a case of she wanted to tag along, and she'd pay their way. No! She was furious because not only would I not take her, her husband, and her children along with us, but we wouldn't pay for the privilege of doing so. She always used the "poor" card. Because she was getting a free home, free food, free healthcare, free cash, that made her and her family entitled to be given more. It didn't matter that my taxes were paying for her to live a life of leisure.... I was still expected to give her and her family a free vacation. She truly expected us to pay for her family to have an expensive vacation.

But as I am want to do, I shrugged it off. She could get as mad as she wanted. I wasn't getting free money to live on. She was. She had as much opportunity to save money as I did. She had her food for free her house for free her health care was free, everything in her life was given to her. Yet she wanted more free stuff, and she wanted it from me. She wanted free Christmas gifts, and the pleasure of belittling them. She wanted to be freely abusive to people, and not be held accountable for it. She wanted to be able to freely lie and manipulate. And for the most part she got a lot of that. But she wasn't getting a free vacation from yours truly.

This woman loves to use the 'poor card." She's a card carrying member of the poor entitled community.

One time I pointed out to her that she was considered poor but went to fast food for lunch and dinner most days of the week, whereas I had an income and bills to pay, and couldn't afford to go to fast food more than about once a week.

She's been sucking on the teat of the American taxpayer not only for decades but for two generations.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

* New *

The Victim Card.

When Not a Princess was 29 years old, she became pregnant with her second child. Not a princess would call me up and tell me that she had a doctor’s appointment on such and such a date for a check-up, ultrasound, etc. At about the beginning of the second trimester she stopped going to her appointments. She gave every excuse in the book…her “legs hurt” so she couldn’t walk…her back hurt…she wasn’t feeling well… She was too tired….Busses were too hard to ride…She didn’t like riding busses with “old people”…she felt fine and therefore she didn’t need to go. Numerous excuses. I offered to pick her up and take her to her appointment a few times, but she always turned me down because he legs or back hurt…she was sick….or because her husband didn’t want her to go to the appointment. I stopped offering. I begged her to go. I told her all the reasons she needed to go. I told her she needed to do it for her baby. But the baby wasn’t what was important to her. The only thing that was, and is, ever important to her is herself.

Then I received a phone call from “Not a Princess” telling me she was in the hospital because the baby was stillborn. It had passed away inside of her weeks before. She didn’t know it passed because she couldn’t be bothered to go to the doctors. If she had gone to the doctors, they may have seen that the baby in distress and may have been able to save it. She may have been able to give the baby a more dignified end-of-life than it had. But her legs hurt, she had a headache, she hated old people on the bus….

My husband, two boys and I jumped into the car and drove to the hospital to be with her. First thing she did was complain about the flower arrangement I brought. She said it looked cheap, and she deserved better because she lost the baby. Sigh…it went downhill from there. I wasn’t the only one she was bullying. She was behaving abominably! Because of her behavior they told her they were moving her to the cardiac ward, so that she didn’t have to hear crying babies, but one of the nurses told me that they had to move her because she was yelling at the top of her lungs that all the new moms in the maternity ward were “Bit*hes,” “C*nts,” a “Pieces of Sh*t,” and “Wh*re’s”. She was using the circumstances to create as much drama and to bully as many people as she could. Even in the cardiac ward, she was still screaming. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t forlorn, despondent, inconsolable, melancholy, or withdrawn. She was an embarrassment! She was a bully!!! She was calling the nurses names….demanding the nurses leave the room because they were bothering her, only to bang on the Nurse Call button and demand to know what took them so long to come to her room! Don’t they know she just lost a baby? Do they think they are better than she is? She is the patient, so they better run when she calls! She even threw things from her throne on the bed at the poor nurses. The nurses were showing the patience of Saints…but make no mistake, they hated her guts! I spent half my time there telling Not a Princess to knock it off and behave herself, pointing out that everyone wants to help her, but no one deserves to be abused. Trying to be calm and sensitive to the situation. Finally, I had enough and I leaned in and whispered in her ear, that if she threw one more thing at the nurses, I would dump the pitcher of water on her head…and she knew I’d do it. That seemed to shock her into, at least, not throwing projectiles at the poor nurses while I was there. After I left, it became a free-for-all again for Not a Princess. She was horrible to the hospital staff and to her husband. She was putting on a SHOW. Period. She found an excuse to be abusive and she ran with it. Her victim card had been recharged with currency, and she wasn’t going to let that go to waste.

Throughout the subsequent years, the loss of the baby has always been a victim card she pulls out whenever she feels the need to play the martyr or needs to manipulate those who care about her. She has used that card liberally, as a form of control over her husband and children. When she is lacking as a mom, instead of doing better, she whips out her victim card and throws it in her children’s faces. When she is a less than stellar wife, instead of doing better, she whips out her victim card and throws it in her husband’s face. When society sees through her façade, or recognizes the excuses to be a horrible, lazy and immature person, out comes the victim card. She take great pleasure in using the baby being stillborn as emotional blackmail to those who are vulnerable to it. That victim card has been her close companion, lo these many years. Instead of showing her family that she can be strong and a great roll model, she prefers the victim card where Not a Princess can control her family by using their hearts against them.

After the baby was stillborn, I made a financial donation to the United Way, in the name of the baby, and gave Not a Princess the beautiful “thank you” letter the charity sent me. Instead of any sort of appreciation, or taking any comfort from it, Not a Princess called my mother to complain. I kid you not. She complained that I should have given HER the money, not donated it to strangers. She told my mom that I should at least match my donation and give her money right now! My mother was appalled! She told her to knock it off. She tried to point out that I did something that Not a Princess should be happy about….but at the same time our mother promised Not a Princess that she would try to get me to send Not a Princess matching funds….I DIDN’T SEND ANY MATCHING FUNDS! When manipulating Mom into trying to get money out of me didn’t work, Not a Princess knew better than to try that BS with me. She never said a word about the donation in her son’s name…not even a thank you.

Years later, our mother said she was grateful to God that Not a Princess lost the baby. She said Not a Princess wasn’t responsible enough, or caring enough to deal with a special needs baby, child, or adult. Mom knew the baby would be neglected. Not a Princesses behavior during the pregnancy is a perfect example that shows what mom thought wasn’t unfounded.

She did the same thing with her subsequent children. I can’t count how many times she called me because one of her daughters was sick and she wanted advice. I would always tell her to take them to the doctors, but she couldn’t because…. her “legs hurt” so she couldn’t walk…her back hurt…she wasn’t feeling well… She was too tired….Busses were too hard to ride…She didn’t like riding busses with “old people.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Not an OOPS Baby...A Welfare Baby for a Welfare Queen.

She tells people her last child was an "Oops Baby." Unplanned. Total accident.

What it really was was a "Holy Shit!! With a baby we're going to lose our taxpayer funded housing, healthcare, food stamps and cash assistance" baby. It was the stereotypical last ditch effort to have a baby in order to keep the welfare benefits coming. And like in so many other cases, it worked. It kept her on the doles for another 20 years. And believe me she was delighted.

Everybody sees through it. And she knows everybody sees through it. But she doesn't care. She cashes that check every month. She buys things like ancestry.com subscriptions, because God knows that is a necessity of life! They always have a nice computer. Of course they don't have to worry about paying for food because we, the taxpayer, pay for her food as well. Nor do they have to pay a deductible for health insurance because again weigh the taxpayer are on the hook for paying for her medical as well of her as her children's and her husband's medical. She's one of those people that you see at the store who has a full cart of food including steak and shrimp, expensive sugar-filled cereals, candy, baked goods, just piled high to overflowing the cart. Whereas the person behind her who is the taxpayer that's paying for the food she's buying has a carton of milk some Cheerios and apple and some cheese, because that's all they can afford. The good thing is that with the new administration they are cracking down on these welfare queens and welfare kings. Unfortunately, people like "Not a Princess" will always find a way to scam the system, to scam the American taxpayer. To scam hard-working Americans so that she doesn't have to work at all. She's done it from the day she turned 18 and she'll do it until the day she takes her last breath.

FYI: Welfare and Foods Stamps were intended to be your Safety Net, not your Lifestyle.

Famous Hawaiian Performer

A few years back I found where she had posted a rant on a locally famous Hawaiian singer's Facebook page. She had concluded that this relatively wealthy Hawaiian singer must be a distant cousin of her husband "Not a Prince.". Keep in mind, "Not a Princess" was in her 60s when she did the following!!!!

She posted on this singer's Facebook page how dare he have so much money and not share it with his family, i.e. her husband!! She was literally demanding this total stranger give her money. She accused him of "leaving his family in poverty," and not sharing his good fortune with the family... i.e. “NOT a Princess’s” husband as "the family." She claimed that they were poor with no money, and he was so well off he should be giving them his money. Of course, she didn't add that she and “Not a Princes” were doing just fine happily taking advantage of the government welfare system. The welfare system has taken very good care of them from the day both her and her husband turned 18.

The Hawaiian gentleman handled it very graciously. He apologized that she felt that way and wished her all the best in the future. And he didn't give her a dime of his money.

This is disgusting behavior, and I know she was raised better than that, but she has such an entitled mentally, and always has. She has been perpetrating fraud on the welfare system for decades, (stealing other people's tax money,) so demanding money from an individual is just the other side of the same coin.

Stimulus Checks

She also posted during COVID, where she demanded that both Nancy Pilosi and President Biden "better" send her family more and larger stimulus checks.

(Rolling my eyes!)

It doesn't matter to her that she and her husband, along with their children spent DECADES collecting welfare, food stamps, free government housing, free government health care, free government handouts of all kinds, and continue to do so. She DEMANDED more free money....FREE to her because he never put a dime into the welfare of social security program, but benefited from the fact that I and other taxpayers, have been supporting her, her husband and her children all their lives.

I was the only one who stuck up for her when our niece made molestation accusations against her.

When I lived in New York, our oldest niece, who was an adult at the time, called me up then we were chatting. During the chat she said to me, ...you know that "Not a Princess" used to molest me when I was a little kid, don't you? I was shocked! I listened to what she said.

For a little background, our second to the oldest sister was a drug addict and prostitute all her life. She had three kids. She quite often abandoned those children, and someone in the family or other would have to step in and take custody. Our sister would sell their food stamps for $0.50 on the dollar to get drug money. One time she handed the girls baseball bats and told them to go beat a woman that my sister hated with the bat, because they wouldn't get in trouble because they were minors.

At one point after she abandoned them and they were all quite young, they ended up in my mother's house. It wasn't a case of my mother being concerned and a good grandma, it was a case that there was nobody else to take them in and she thought she was going to get welfare money for them.

I had been recently widowed so I lived with my parents at the time with my own child trying to get back on my feet.

I showed a great deal of sympathy to my niece when she told me her story. But I did tell her that I thought she was mistaken. I told her that I'm sure something happened at some time in her life but that not a princess didn't do it. I pointed out that her mother, my sister, ran with horrible, scum of the earth type of people and that my neice was so young at the time that I feel she was probably mistaking not a princess for one of those other people. I could tell that my niece was very uncertain in thinking that it was not a princess in the first place, because she didn't even argue the point that it might not have been her. I pointed out to my niece that Not a Princessis a jackass, she is a bully, and she is a very large asshole, but what she isn't is a child molester. I lived there 24/7, and I had a great deal of responsibility when it came to taking care of the kids. It was a single level home, with no basement nor attic, so it's not like somebody could sneak upstairs and do something malicious. All three kids slept in the same room so no privacy. And the home was single wall construction, and having been the abused wife of a brutal man, I was a very light sleeper, and nothing would get past me. After that my niece did admit that she could be mistaken.

I told my mother about my niece's accusations and my mom said anything's possible. I asked my mother if she knew something I didn't know, and Mom said no not at all. She just said that with as strange as not a princess is, she wouldn't be surprised about anything. I got very upset with Mom. I told her that's gross. I told her she knew better than that and she shouldn't be encouraging that kind of discussion when she knows better. Mom just gave me what I would consider an evil smile. At that point, looking at her I realized she just liked the drama. She realized that it wasn't true. That my niece also liked the drama, and my mother was enjoying joining in on it. I later heard my mother telling her friends that not a princess may have molested the children. Which she knows is bullshit.

And just to put a period to this, my mother lost custody of these children because she beat the shit out of one of them, just like she did her own children, namely me and my sisters, but this time a doctor and my nieces school reported my mother for child abuse. Back then nothing happened to my mother for that. It just got swept under the rug, and the children were flown back to their mother.

So of all the family members I'm the one that stood up for not a princess. Everybody else wanted to join in on the drama. And even after our discussion my niece was on the phone telling people how she had been molested as a child by my sister. To this day I will go to the grave knowing that it never happened.

Catalog Business

In 1996 President Clinton started the welfare-to-work program. Not a princess was very upset that if she didn't go to work she was going to have to lose her welfare. And all the benefits attached. But, as many welfare queens and kings have done over the years, she was given advice on how to beat the system... Again. She started a catalog business. It was the kind of business where you get catalogs from a company that sell less than quality items. You can order a catalog that all the items are pre-priced, or you can order a catalog that are not priced and you can add your own prices. Then when somebody orders from your catalog you then place an order with the company and pay wholesale but you charge your client retail. She ordered 10 or 20 catalogs where there were no prices. She added her own prices to each item, but the prices were absolutely astronomical. I got one of the catalogs from her, my mother did, her mother-in-law did, and I don't know who else. Something that she should have been charging $2.50 for she was charging $150 for. I kid you not. In the end only her mother-in-law bought one item from the catalog. Nobody else bought anything because it was obvious that she was trying to rip people off. But in the end that's exactly what she wanted people to do... Not to buy from her catalog. Because she can report that as a failed business. And she was able to continue to collect her welfare benefits, and live the life of leisure. She figured out how to game the system again.

900 #'s, YUCK!

At one point my mother called me up angry and upset at “Not a Prince” and at “Not a Princess”. “Not a Princess” had called her, crying, and told her that they has received their telephone bill and what she saw on it was devastating. At that time, everybody had landlines, and long-distance calls were charged by the minute. “Not a Princess” and “Not a Prince” did have their phone bill subsidized (paid for) by the Government, but the Government denied payment for the last 3 months’ worth of phone bills.

It turned out that “Not a Prince” had been calling 900 numbers sex lines and spending hours on the phone having phone sex with strange women while pleasuring himself. It is my understanding that these sex lines were very popular at the time, and one could rack up astronomical bills when using them. I had no idea that that kind of stuff was happening in the world! Yuck! I was shocked! I was mortified for my sister! And I was very angry at her stupid, irresponsible, cheating husband! According to Mom, “Not a Prince” had racked up $11,000 in 900 number charges. Their phone bill had been red flagged by the government, and they were notified that the government was not going to subsidize any phone bill that had those numbers included on it. Mom said “Not a Prince” had been doing it for the last 3 or 4 months. My mother said “Not a Princess” was sobbing on the phone with her, and she would waffle between anger and devastation. Angry at “Not a Prince” for betraying her like that and sobbing for the exact same reason. Of course, hearing that pulled on my heartstrings. Because I know what it's like to be cheated on. Let me tell you this, in my opinion, if he was cheating on her over the phone he's, there's no doubt he's cheating on her physically. If he's cheating on her over the phone, he's got himself a side piece in her neighborhood!

Mom said that “Not a Princess” asked my mother to ask me if I would loan them the $11,000 to pay those phone bills. I vehemently declined. I told her that that was their problem not mine. That I was really disgusted that he was doing that kind of stuff and expecting the government to pay for it, then when he finds out he's responsible he doesn't get off his azz and get a job! Instead, he wants ME to pay for his nasty phone behavior and betrayal of my sister! Gross!! Also, if he didn't get a job then “Not a Princess” should have gotten off her azz and found employment! Instead, they turn to me and expect me to pay for his disgusting behavior!!!! I reminded my mother that “Not a Princess” had never paid me back for the loan I made to her when she was evicted, and the landlord was going to sue her. I never saw a dime of that money. When “Not a Princess” promised she would pay it back within a year. I never received a dime in pay back on the loan. My mother promised that “Not a Princess” would make sure that this loan got paid back. My mother said that this would devastate their children. “Not a Princess” and “Not a Prince” were trying to do what they could to make sure the children didn't find out about it. She said “Not a Prince” is ashamed of calling the 900#’s and would make the loan right with me. He also didn't want his very religious extended family, especially his stepmom, to find out about his filthy behavior, so he had strong reasons to make good one the loan. She said that both “Not a Prince” and “Not a Princess” promises to pay me back the $11,000, an if they didn't, my mother would pay me back.

I told my mom I would have to think about it. I told her that coming up with that kind of money is not going to be easy. I reminded her that the family seems to think I’m made of money, but the fact is I'm not. That I would probably have to get a bank loan in order to come up with that much money. My mother sympathized but in hindsight I realize she was only focused on “Not a Princess”, and honestly, as was her want, I was the family member to pull everybody out of trouble, and I was the family member given the least amount of consideration.

I was only allowed two days to think about it and I decided because of “Not a Princess's” children I would go ahead and loan them the money. So, I sent my mother the money, because she was no longer living in Hawaii, and I sent her a contract that she promised that both the “Not a Princess” and “Nut of Prince” would sign. The contract was very basic. Within 3 years the full debt would be paid starting the very next month. I wasn't asking for any interest, I wasn't asking for them to genuflect at my feet. I wasn't asking for either one of their right arms. I was just asking them to pay me back the money that they asked to borrow and have already promised to pay back.

Well, Dear Reader, if you have made it this far in my blog you know exactly what happened, or let's say what didn't happen, when it comes to this astronomical and life changing amount of money Loaned my sister and her husband. She never paid me a dime. In fact, she refused to even talk about it. She told my mom that she was poor so she shouldn't have to pay it back. My mother was sheepish about the whole thing because she was the one who gave the promise that “Not a Princess” and “Not a Prince” would pay me back. She "believed" what they told her. The problem was that my mother convinced me, against my better judgment, to believe her as well. I think I thought she cared enough about me as her sister, and cared about her own integrity, dignity, and self-respect that if there's one bill she would make sure to pay it would be the bills for her husband's sex line depravity. She could have stood tall and proud and she would know that she didn't screw somebody over when it came to her husband wanking off perversion during calls to skanky women or men.

Unfortunately, I was made a fool of again by my sister. I was used and abused again by her. And she did it with a smile on her face and evil in her heart. YOU DON’T TREAT FAMILY LIKE THAT!

My mother was very apologetic about the whole thing. She said she felt bad for stepping in and asking me to help. She was appalled and disgusted at “Not a Princess's” behavior. She said she was going to call “Not a Prince” and threatened to tell his parents if “Not a Prince” didn't start paying me back.

She said she called “Not a Prince” and threatened to tell his parents if “Not a Prince” didn't start paying me back. She said he just played dumb, mumbled incoherently and gave the phone to “Not a Princess”.

After that my mother washed her hands of the whole thing. She actually had the gall to say that I never should have loaned them the money!!!!!!!!!!! She actually said that!!!! I, flabbergastedly, pointed out to her that she talked me into loaning them the money and my mother denied it ever happened. She said she had no part in it (not the first or last time my mother did this to me.) She said I should have known better than to loan “Not a Princess” any money because “Not a Princess” has always been a con artist, a cheat, and extremely entitled. After that I never brought it up to my mother again. But to the day she died I never forgot what she did to me. Not only was that my money but it was my family's money. And by loaning it to “Not a Princess” I was taking money from my family, and it was never paid back.

"Not a Princess" tells the lie that I did something to try to ruin her marriage. I don't know what I am accused of or what I supposedly did to try to ruin her marriage. And honestly I don't care. She never contacted me to asked if I had done something... instead, she rejoiced in making up lies about me in order to give herself a loophole to blame her husband's cheating on.

I never tried to ruin her marriage....I saved her marriage by loaning her $11,000 to pay her husband's perverted sex phone line calls, and she never had the decency to thank me, let alone pay me back.

Her Son-in-law

She has posted all over family's FB pages about how much she hates her son-in-law. How badly he treats her daughter and grandchildren. How he keeps her manipulatrd and makes her shun her family.

It's Just Genealogy Research. Who needs facts?

Do not give any of her genealogy research any credence. She has done such a slipshod job of researching her ancestry that it is embarrassing.

I have been a genealogist for 34 years. And I didn't do the cut, copy, paste, ancestry type of genealogy research. I did the real research, with real documentation. I have birth certificates, death certificates, marriage licenses, censuses, poor house records, ship manifests records. The whole nine yards. It took me decades to research our family, and I take a lot of pride in it. It was hard work, a lot of money, a lot of dedication, and I am confident that every bit of my research is 100% accurate.

She has numerous family trees on ancestry and all of them are wrong. Technically not everything in them is incorrect, but when she screwed it up, she screwed it up royally. She even had our fathers death date wrong! Who does that?!

Here are some examples of what you can be treated to if you went on her ancestry trees and actually believed what she documented.

She has one of our great grandmothers having her first child at the young and sprite age of 71! I guess not a princess doesn't math much.

She names some obscure Indian chief as being one of our direct ancestors, pointing at him as to where we get our American Indian blood from. She is totally wrong. That is not an ancestor of ours. In any way shape or form.

She put that we are descended from George Bernard Shaw. And we aren't.

She put that we were descended from Shakespeare, which we're not.

She put a picture of Alcatraz prison in one of our great grandfathers picture galleries and said he'd been an inmate! That never happened!

This is also disrespectful! She posted a picture of what she claimed was the gravestone of our great grandmother who married Grover. Except the gravestone didn't even have the right last name on it, Grover's last name, our great grandmother's last name, and there was a stranger buried with her. A total stranger buried with our great grandmother.

I'll take things that never happened for 500, Alex!

Grover was a dirt poor man. When his wife died she was buried with a very basic gravestone. Her grave is actually the oldest in the cemetery where she is buried. Unfortunately time and abandonment has separated our great grandmother's gravestone from her grave. Her gravestone now leans up against a tree in the cemetery. And nobody knows where our great grandmother, and the other cemetery residents are buried.

But she felt better by grabbing some random couples gravestone picture with the wrong name and the wrong husband, and slamming it into her ancestry tree, to perpetuate the Dissemination of misinformation. By doing that, when people go looking at her research and believe her, she is sending them on a wild goose chase, in a wrong direction for their own genealogy. Shame on her!

She spread more lies...Of Course.

My husband was a spouse abuser and a serial cheater. When I found out he was a serial cheater, he realized he was not just caught... He was good and caught. It was at that point he beat the holy shit out of me. I had recently gone through leg surgery so I wasn't able to run away like I often did. My kids were downstairs, and I truly feel they heard it but did nothing. He had convinced them that I was a bad mom and that he should be rewarded for cheating and beating me up as opposed to he was a terrible father and husband and he should be in jail. There's a lot more to that scene but in the end he called the cops. Because he wanted to be the one to report it because that makes him look like the innocent party. When the cops came I already had bruises forming on my body and I showed them and I told them that I wanted him arrested. They said they would arrest him but since he was saying that I beat him up and that he didn't touch me that I would have to be arrested too. So here I am an abused spouse, bruises already forming on my body, and I was told that if I had my abuser arrested, that the cops would take me and arrest me too. They saw the bruises. And there wasn't one single bruise on my husband. So I declined having him arrested and they made my husband move out that night. My husband then launched a campaign of such terror and spite against me it was horrifying. We lived way out in the boondocks because that's where he wanted to live. Because he always got his way. And he had his car and I had mine and yet he kept showing up at my house without permission and stealing my car. Knowing that I had the kids, and in an emergency or to go get food I wouldn't have my car. It was horrible he would show up and knock on windows at the house and then run, just to terrifying us in the middle of the night. He would have the police show up and say I was beating our child. The car theft got so bad that I had to go buy one of those club things for the steering wheel. And even my kid came with me, the youngest. And he knew about the stealing of the car all the time because he would want to go somewhere and I'd have to tell him Dad came and stole the car again.
Anyway this went on for a couple years. He would tell the police that I was starving the children. He would tell the police that I was threatening to kill myself. He told the police I was trashing the house. He would tell the police I was beating our child. He would tell the police all kinds of things so that they would show up and harass me. He would say that I stole from him. I didn't even know where he was living, and honestly I didn't care. I wish I knew then what I know now because he used the police as law-fair against me and that was illegal. And the biggest illegal part was the fact that the police went along with him. They would come to my house and demand property instead of telling him that if I had property of his that he needs to go through the courts. The police would come to my house and intimidate me into giving him things that he was not legally entitled to. He also would come to my house and want to have sex with me. And I would tell him you are diseased. I don't even want you to breathe in my direction You are so badly diseased from all the women you've been sleeping with. When the women he was sleeping with found out that he was separated, they come out of the woodwork like termites. No, cockroaches. I would get so many phone calls, some of them were very nice and apologetic and said they didn't know that he was married and they would totally give me their stories. Others would be mean and cruel and ugly and tell me what a bad Wife I was because he was picking somebody much more wonderful... like her. It was really a hell of a time. And then he would show up on my doorstep and want to romance me, apologize and have sex. He did not understand how disgusted I was by him physically. Just looking at him made me want to throw up. I supported him financially, physically, and emotionally for decades. We never used his money, we always use mine. He was supposed to be saving his money for our family and our future. So we used my money to live on. Turns out he wasn't using his money as a savings for the family. He was using it to buy other women cars, and pay their rent, and make himself out to be sugar daddies for these diseased women that he surrounded himself with.
Because I'd never been through a divorce and I didn't know what I was doing and I didn't want to be a biased source always feeding my son bad things about his father I brought him to a psychiatrist. He was furious with me that I was bringing him to a psychiatrist, my son was. But I told him just give it a chance after three visits if you don't like it will stop. My son sat in the car passenger seat while I was driving him to psychiatrist just furious, absolutely fuming,. By the end of the visit my son was hopping around and jumping and happy and he said it was so good, it was so freeing and it was a relief to be able to talk. And I told him I said that's exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to feel free and not trapped. I wanted him to have an unbiased ear to listen to. At some point the psychiatrist asked my husband to join in on the psychiatry visit, to help fix their relationship because my husband started abusing my son emotionally as well. The psychiatrist made it clear that I would not be part of the visit, it would just between son and father. My husband refused. Out and out refused. Said he had moved on with his life and he wanted nothing to do with our son.

I'm going to backtrack a little here's a perfect example of how he was abusive to my son. The first Christmas my husband were just separated and my husband told my son to make a Christmas list and he would buy our son everything on that list. My son was like a kid in a candy store! Of course he put all kinds of stuff that he wanted on that list and he was expecting to get it all, because that's the expectation that my husband put in this child's head. When Christmas rolled around my sons wonderful, caring, loving, perfect father, told our son that he did indeed buy every single one of those gifts for my son for Christmas. But then he topped it off by telling my son that he wasn't going to give my son any of those Christmas presents... Because He "didn't like the way" my son was "handling the divorce." He did this to a little child. A little boy. Who was going through a hell of his own. Of course the child didn't handle his father cheating on his mother well. Of course this child didn't handle his life exploding before his eyes. Of course he handle well the fact that his father would make a arrangements to come pick him up to spend time with him, and then not bother to show up or even call. Of course he didn't handle it well that his father would send the police to the house and accuse me of beating up this child, and the child knew it was a lie. This grown man did this to a child. A child he claimed to love. He told my son flat out that he was taking all those things that he bought for my son, all those wonderful things he promised my son, and giving it to his step nephew, the son of my husband's whore. So my son got nothing for Christmas that year because I had no money. My husband wasn't paying child support he wasn't paying anything. He told me flat out I am not paying a damn thing for that kid until a court orders me too. So that shows what kind of a loving caring father he was. The only thing he did do was pay the rent on the house but he was forced to do that because his name was on the lease. He had put only his name on the lease and not mine. I don't know why I didn't see that as a red flag. But I trusted him, and I loved him. And you know what? He told me I could trust him and I could love him. So that made it real.
He was supposed to register our son for school because we just moved there and he had stolen my car so I had no way to drive to the school. He promised my son on the phone that he would register him...just give him time. Well I later found out he took my car on a vacation with one of his girlfriends and he never had any intention of registering my kid for school. He planned on blaming me for it which in the end he did. But my son and I packed up one day and was going to walk to the school but unfortunately from where we were we might have been able to walk it except the only way to get there was through dark woods or a freeway where there was no pedestrian walking allowed. When my son and I got to the freeway part I told him we can't do this it's too dangerous I'm not letting you walk on a freeway. Unfortunately the school insisted on the child being there because they need to make sure that there's real children. The school was kind enough, after I explained to them over the phone how my husband kept stealing my car, and leaving us stranded, and they registered him without seeing him. But once I got my car back I had to bring in all pertinent documents.

Also my boys were the ones that talked me into turning my husband in for spousal abuse when they saw the bruises on my body. I had bruises on my breasts and my thighs and my back I had kidney bruises and I had only one arm with Bruce but I think that's because that's the arm I used to protect myself My knuckles were bruised from when he was pounding it on a desk. My scalp was bruised because he'd grab my hair and he'd slam my head down on the desk. So my sons insisted we went to turn him in. I was terrified to turn him in. I was afraid he was going to beat me up again. To this day even talking about it now I'm afraid he's going to beat me up again. You would think after being beaten up so many times you would be used to it. But you never get used to it. And this was another part where he had stolen my car so we had to take a taxi which I could really not afford. So my boys and I got a taxi and went to the police station. So my boys knew that I was an abused wife. They encouraged me, no they insisted that I file charges and I did.

Medication
The little weasel told everybody that I was diagnosed as bipolar and paranoid schizophrenic, He even told people that I had murderous tendencies and then I needed to be heavily medicated. And that I don't take my medication and I become a psycho. Isn't an amazing how that happens? Only after a man gets caught cheating, all of a sudden his wife is a psycho! She wasn't a psycho when you were happily cheating on her with other women. She wasn't a psycho when you happily came home every day and ate the food she cooked for you without worry that she was poisoning you. She wasn't a psycho when you left the kids in her care every day. She only became a psycho when you got caught cheating on her! That is textbook cheating husband trying to cover up for himself and make it seem like he had a good reason to cheat.
I have never been diagnosed as any such thing. And I've never been given any kind of antipsychotic medication. And I have never attacked anybody in my life. But he was telling even my children that I was off my meds. The thing that really hurts is knowing that my kids knew I wasn't on medication. My kids knew I was never diagnosed with any such mental issues. My kids knew he was cheating. My kids knew he beat me up. They're the ones who encouraged me and went with me to charge him with spousal abuse. They saw the bruises. They saw what he did to even themselves. But his smarmy used car salesman personality won them over.

And then my sister did the same thing. Instead of saying ...hey stop talking about my sister like that. Or how about her picking up the phone and calling her sister and finding out if these horrific things that are being said about her are true? No. Instead she picks up these lies and runs with them. She was telling everybody, and I mean she being the not a princess, was telling everybody that I was mentally ill and unstable and I was off my meds. Instead of being a good sister and saying don't talk about my sister like that. Instead of being a good sister picking up the phone and calling your sister. Instead she delightedly helped spread these nasty lies generated by a cheating husband.
Unlike not a princess, I own my home, I own my car, I have a good steady job and I've had it for a very long time, and the legal field. I have never been on welfare. Unlike not a princess I have never parked my ass in welfare housing. I have never had a welfare check deposited into my checking account. I have never borrowed money from people and then never paid it back. I've never raised children on the welfare system. I've never put all over Facebook demanding that our President give me more money.
So instead of being a good sister and doing a little bit of research, or even if she believed what she'd been told about me, instead of keeping her mouth shut and not spreading the rumors and lies, she grabbed those lies and just enjoyed plastering them all over the internet. That's not a good sister. That's not a good human being. That Evil!
When our niece was telling people that not a princess sexually molested her I didn't tell anybody except our mother and my husband. There was not a whiff of that anywhere. I didn't even want to call not a princess because I knew it wasn't true and I didn't want to encourage our niece to continue with the lie, because I knew not a princess would freak out and act very immature if she knew what was being said about her. In hindsight I wish I just said something to her, but at the time I thought I was doing the mature thing and letting a lie about her die.

When Dad was Dying...

When my dad was in the hospital literally on his deathbed he was in really bad shape. He had cancer that had metastasized throughout his entire body. I truly feel that he would have lived longer if he and my mother hadn't bought a four-wheeler and decided to travel the US. It was a lot of stress on my dad who had already been diagnosed with cancer and when it came to the fifth wheel and any kind of help, my mother was not there for him. Everything was on his shoulders but he did it because she wanted to. Finally when he got so sick he ended up in the hospital. But they were in lower Texas at the time and he needed to be ambulanced up to San Antonio to the veterans hospital there. My mother did not follow him. My mother decided instead of following him she would follow her father who wanted to go into Mexico and purchase medication for himself. My mother figured she'd meet up with my dad at the hospital sooner or later. She knew he was dying but she wanted to follow her daddy, instead of go be with her dying husband. That right there is a perfect example of what my mother was like. She had her nose stuck so far up her father's ass, and he wasn't even her father he was her adopted father, she was so jealous of her own brothers that she thought that following this man and being a sycophant to his every move.

Soon as I found out my father was in the hospital dying I was preparing to leave to be with him. I had to pack up my husband my two children make sure the house was taken care of so I wasn't able to just fly out that same second. In the meantime not a princess had found out that my dad was in the hospital and she called him. After she called him my father called me.

My father called me crying. He was so upset by the awful things that Not a princess had said to him. He said that she yelled at him the whole time. She told him that before he died she wanted him to know a few things. She had told him that she felt he hadn't spanked me enough. Me, the little sister. She had yelled at him that he was never a good father to her. That she deserved better. He said she was very focused on me. That he let me get away with too much stuff, I hadn't been spanked enough, I was a brat, I was terrible to the whole family. And he wasn't telling me this stuff angry. He was brokenhearted. He told me that she didn't even ask how he was. She didn't show any consideration or concern about him. The minute she got on the phone with him, and he was very happy to hear from her, she lit into him about me.

I didn't ask him a lot of questions because he was so upset. Not a princess had deliberately broken the heart of a dying man. of her dying father, who deserved a better daughter than not a princess was. What I did do was tried to calm him down, and tell him that I would be there soon. That I should be there the next day and that Mom would be there soon as well. I told him not to worry about not a princess. This is very typical the way she would behave. That he and I are going to just sit there and talk until he feels better. So he and I stayed on the phone for a good hour and I did have him laughing by the end of the phone call. After that day I never spoke to my sister again. That was the last straw when she called up our father who was dying and didn't even ask how he was doing. She didn't tell him she loved him. She didn't just try to give him heartfelt comfort. She didn't want to comfort a dying man. All she wanted to do was vent her spleen on a dying man and cover him with vile lies and manipulations. After I got off the phone with my father I called not a princess. And I gave her a piece of my mind. I did not give her a chance to say shit. I lit into her and told her that I never wanted to speak to her again. I told her do not call Dad again. I told her she's not welcome to call him or even to write him after what she just pulled. I told her that if she were a decent daughter she would have been on the first plane to be with Dad, instead of making an abusive phone call to him. I also told her if she had any problems with me don't be a coward and vent them on a dying man. I told her to call me. She has issues with me call me. But I told her she would never do that because she's a coward, and she knows that I know all her secrets.

When we got to my father's bedside he wasn't doing well at all. My mother said he hadn't spoken in two days and they weren't sure if he was conscious. Eileen down to him and I said Dad it's me. I love you. And miraculously he said I love you too. That's the last thing he ever said. I realized at a later point that my mother was very angry that I was the last person that my father spoke to. I don't know if she was jealous, or proprietary. All I know is she made very pointed comments to me over the years that I better not think I'm special because I was the last one dad spoke to. Need this to say something like that it never entered my mind, but it was very much typical of my mother to have that attitude. Instead of being happy that her husband heard his daughter's voice and reacted to it, she was pissed off because she was at the center of attention.

When it came to my dad's death I don't know who was the biggest villain. My mother or my sister. With my other sister Dino coming up a close third for sure. All of that part will be chronicled in the Dino section of this blog, so I won't go into it here.

But when it comes to not a princess, her selfishness and narcissism was so deep that instead of giving comfort to her dying father She vented her putrid hatred and disgusting lies to him. Not only not comforting him, but she upset him more than he ever needed to be. He probably could have lived more hours or even more days if he hadn't have been put through what he was put through by not a princess on the phone. She has our father's blood on her hands.

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She posted about one of her daughters that the daughterd husband a no good liar and cheater. That the daughter has no backbone and won't stand up to him. She posted that her son-in-law has bad genes and that's why the children are deformed & retarded. She posted that she (Not a Princess) had to step in when each child was born because the daughter & son-in-law were lazy. The daughter and son-in-law made her do "all the work." She was the only caretaker for the babies and the parents sat around and did nothing.

2

She posted that one daughter's husband was a scammer. He can't keep a job and when he gets a job it's for low wages in rubbish jobs. He lives off is wife and complains all the time.

The daughter has an education but doesn't use it. And isn't smart enough to see what her husband is.

3

She posted that one sleeps around to get money and pregnant. The daughter is "mentally ill" and spends money on "stupid stuff."

She posted that the daughter expects "Not a Princess" to buy her stupid stuff and pitches fits because she won't.

4

Not a princess says one daughter is stuck up. Acts like she's better than the family. Sleeps with anybody that will have her. Tries to get pregnant to trap someone. And has a bad attitude.

Thanks MOM!

When I saw those posts they truly reminded me of our mother. Even if she feels that way about her daughter's and sons-in-laws, she should never have posted it on random family member FB and business pages.

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Classmates

Not a princess contacted me via the the social media page "Classmates." At the time, I was happy to hear from her. Figured maybe we could have some sort of email relationship or something. Unfortunately she didn't contact me to chat. She contacted me to demean me. I swear to God, this woman should never been allowed to be on the internet. She's one of those internet trolls that just goes on to cause trouble, to post uneducated and uninformed posts. She goes on to other people's posts and absolutely berates them. Or to bitch at them for not sharing their finncial wealth (see previous story about her harassment of a Hawaiian entertainer.) She's totally ignorant of the topics she comments on, but believes she knows everything. She acts like she has a dog in the hunt when it comes to the "Kingdom of Hawaii," when she knows NOTHING about it. If she knew anything about that she wouldn't be Disrespecting the "Kingdom of Hawaii" by impersonating a "Princess" of said Kingdom.

But I digress.

She made it very clear, very quickly that she wasn't interested in exchanging a few emails and pleasantries. She wrote in her message to me, "Why are you on classmates? You don't belong here. You didn't graduate, I did. Nobody wants to talk to you on here because you are a dropout."

In return, I pointed out to her that the name of the site was "Classmates," not "Graduates. She said that doesn't matter. I don't belong on there because I was stupid. Stupid people don't graduate. I mean she really thought this was a flex, and I was supposed to feel inferior to her.

Well ...I didn't. I have never felt inferior to her, and that's one thing that her jealousy can't stand.

Yes, I didn't graduate. I literally, and stupidly, quit school a month before graduation. As per many a young girl in the same situation, I had a boyfriend who talked me into quitting school and live a fairy tale life with him. It didn't help that I was running away from abuse, emotional, psychological, and physical, from both my parents and my sister, Not a Princess.

What I didn't tell her when I received that contact from her on Classmates was that I had obtained my GED and then a degree that I am very proud of. I have worked at a very prestigious private university, I have worked for a very large tech company, and now I use my skills and education to work with legal entities, and big corporations.

I was the HS Dropout, and she clearly wanted to run my nose in that. She clearly felt she was in the superior position. But you know what? She doesn't have a leg, or a lie to stand on. This HS Dropout never lived in welfare housing. This Dropout 's children never went without food, and was never expecting the American Taxpayer (me!) to pay her and her children's bills. This Dropout's children never saw EVICTION.

When I receive that contact from her I didn't want to continue wasting my time on someone who is so negative, jealous and...a liar. If that was her idea of an olive branch, that was my idea of a thorny bush. I didn't want to deal with it. I refused to deal with it. I never answered that Cassmate message. She messaged me over and over and over. Finally instead of blocking her I just deleted my profile out of Classmates all together. She had already been stalking me on social media and I was done.

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Rolling My Eyes

“Not a Princess” and I did not grow up knowing our cousins. Of course, we knew of them, we just didn't know them. We didn't live in the same state. Our parents were relatively estranged from theirs. Family Tension, Family Politics, Family Azzholeness ran rampant. One of the family stories was that when my dad brought my mother to his mother's house to meet the family, all seven of his sisters were still at home at the time, most, of them adults. When the sisters found out my mother was Catholic, they were not happy. When my mother and father left that day, one of the sisters sprayed the room with Lysol disinfectant spray in order to get rid of the “Catholic-ness” mom left in her wake. So, knowing that of course my parents didn't have a lot to do with his siblings. And just as little to do siblings my mom siblings as well. My parents were just on a different path than their own siblings. And they didn't want to live in the same state they grew up in. They wanted to branch out.

So, because of that, “Not a Princess” and I did not know our cousins, or our aunts and uncles on either side. Well, I can't tell you how embarrassing it is to get a phone call from a cousin, one I barely know or don't know it all, where they ask me if I know why “Not a Princess” calls them up at any time of the day or night and rants at them. Don't get me wrong, they don't blame me. They're just confused.

What “Not a Princess” does is stalks family member’s Facebook pages and when she sees something she doesn't like she gets their phone number off the internet and calls them up and rants at them. I swear to God! “Not a Princess” should be permanently Banned from using the Internet! She doesn’t have the maturity level to be left alone while using it.

She ranted at and verbally abused one of our cousins because she didn't like the way the cousin was holding a baby in one of the pictures posted. It turned out that neither the baby, nor the baby holder was our cousin. Besides that, it wasn’t like the baby was being held upside down by its ankles!!!! “Not a Princess’” complaint was that the baby should be cradled in the arms, not over the shoulder. But the mom in the picture was BURPING the baby, so it was in the correct position to promote the release of trapped gas! (Rolling my eyes!)

She called up one cousin because they posted a greeting and said “Morning” instead of “Good Morning.” The cousin said that not a princess gave no clear reason as to why using the greeting morning is offensive but using the greeting good morning is not. That all not a princess did was rant over and over about how offended she was. And how offended every single person in the world is offended by her cousin posting the word morning instead of good morning. But to emphasize, she gave no reason as to why that shortened greeting of morning isn't any way offensive. My cousin just listened politely ended this call as soon as possible and then blocked her from being able to call again.

She called and ranted to one of our cousins because there was a picture posted where he made a harmless wave with his right hand. (No, it wasn’t the one-finger-salute.) “Not a Princess” took exception to that wave. From what I understand he sat there calmly and quietly on the phone, listening to her berate him for at least 15 minutes, and even apologized to her for it. She's lucky she didn't try that shit with me.

She called up one cousin because he posted on Facebook that he drives a Prius. She called him up and tore him a new one because he didn't buy American.

I find it a hypocritical that she lambasts America all over social media, and falsely claims ownership of the Hawaiian throne, but reems somebody for buying a non-American car. What did Yoda say? The hypocrisy is deep with this one. Lol.

I could go on. There are plenty more examples where these come from. Whenever these people call me, I always tell them the same thing. I tell them I am sorry she did that and I'm sure they understand that I have no control over my sister’s immature behavior and lies. I always tell them block her immediately… And they do.

I honestly feel that this woman has way too much time on her hands. She should get a day job, and a night and weekend job. She needs to be so tired that she doesn't care what kind of car people drive, or if their baby needs to belch.

This behavior is unacceptable. This is the behavior of a spoiled brat. This is the behavior of a narcissist. She demands everything must be her way or no way. This is the behavior of somebody who was raised by parents who rarely told her "no."

This is the behavior of someone, like my mother used to say, thanks her shit don't stink. I would be mortified if I treated another human being the way she treats people. The entitlement with her is astronomical. Why does she think she has the right to talk to people that way? What gives her that right? If you don’t like what you see when you’re stalking somebody's Facebook, scroll on idiot. Get over it. Mind your own business!

GHOST HUNTER

Sigh... When I saw this I rolled my eyes. I want to reiterate, some people should not be allowed on the internet. Some people do not have the intelligence, the maturity, or the common sense to be allowed to post ever. Some people go on the internet to lie, to exaggerate, and to make themselves the main character in everybody's story. And that is exactly what not a princess is and does.

She trolled a ghost hunter's page and posted the following...

****** Ghosts are mostly drawn to me. I am not the seeker to go look for a ghost but they're drawn to me. I've seen things over a long long time. I've seen four family members plus other people that I've seen on the street. Let's just say they come maybe once every 4 to 5 months someone comes in my house or on the street that I see that is not living. I can write a book let's just say. ******

No, ghosts are not drawn to you. Dust bunnies maybe, but not ghosts! Get it straight.

You've seen four family members as ghosts? Girl!!!! .... Family members didn't visit you when they were alive, what in the hell makes you think they'd take what little opportunity they have, in the afterlife to visit the living, and decide that you were the one they were going to visit? Give me a break! Bottom line is you are just trying to make yourself something special. Ghost don't visit you. They've never visited you. And if there was a ghost coming down from on high you would be the last one that they would visit.

You've seen ghosts on the street. So you're walking down the street and you see ghosts? Who do you think you are... Haley Joel Osment in the Sixth Sense? Do you lay in bed with the covers up to your chin whispering, "I see dead people!?" If you think you're seeing dead people on the streets what you need to do is go see a psychiatrist in an office.

You and I both know that you know you're not seeing ghosts. This is just another one of your dramas. Just another one of your "I am the main character" acts. Just another one of your bullshit stories to make yourself feel special. Knock it off.

Hrh Princess Violet Fatu, Violet Fatu, Violet Godfrey Fatu, Violet Godfrey-Fatu,Violet Godfrey,Tovia Fatu,Tovia Kelemete Fatu,Kayla Fatu,Kayla Borja,Kimberly Fatu Oana, Kimberley Fatu Oana, Kimberley Fatu, Kimberley Oana,Kimberly Oana,Elicer Borja,Eli Borja,Serenity Fatu,Serenity-Waioleka Kathleen Lorreen Fatu,Sarah Florence Estella Fatu,Sarah Fatu,Daniel Huynh,Cecilia Adeline Kalanianuenue Kawainui,Tovia Kelemete Fatu Sr,Warren Deaton Waikiki,Dalphine P. Campbell,Warren Waikiki Jr.,Jessica Waikiki,Amy Kaho’ohanohano,Kalem Kaho’ohanohano,Kamuela Kaho’ohanohano,Amber Kaho’ohanohano,Kaimi Kaho’ohanohano,Nohea Kaho’ohanohano,Jonathan Waikiki,Lorna Zablan,Kimo Zablan,Deborah Fatu,Kent Fatu,Eugene Fatu,Vanessa Fatu,Todd Sonoda,Tovia Fatu,Violet Fatu,John Fatu,Jason Fatu,Rachael Fatu,Letwell Pauole,Lavern Pauole,Peter Waikiki,Estelle Naomi Waikiki, Tovia Fatu, Loreen Pasigan,Sonny Pasigan,Peter Sonod

MORE TO COME! 😺

More added every day.

...

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Below is the beginning of "Not a Princess."

Again....Not a Princess

Parking Lot PARASITE

🪱

She has been a parasite on the government system (AKA: The working tax payers, like me) all her life. She has always been a freeloader who sucked off the teat of the American tax payer. Not with a greatful attitude either, but wholeheartedly with an entitled attitude.

Social programs are not meant to be parking lots!!!

They are meant to be temporary bridges!!!

Our Sister Burned!

Disgusting Bully. Spitter!

LATCH-KEY KIDS.

FAKER! FAKER! FAKER!!!!!

Attempted Kidnapping.

She Has a "Tell."

Finally Tested

NEW

"SEARCH TAKE"

The J

and the A

and the A

and the P.

Bully.

Tickling = Pain

B/O & Buckshot

SUCKING MY HAIR!

SUCKING HER THUMB & PICKING HER NOSE.

Abuse, Spitting, Screaming, and Other Vile Behavior...in Public.

"You just don't want me to have any friends.'

**** NEW ****

My Cherished Ring

Functionally Illiterate.

STOLEN VALOR!

She is NOT a "Sharpshooter Woman."

What is "Stolen Valor?"

****. "In Army basic combat training (BCT), recruits typically first handle a rifle during the second phase, which usually occurs around weeks 3-4." **** (Google it.)

After being in Boot Camp for just a week and a half, she called her mother, literally crying about how hard boot was. She sobbed that boot camp was destroying her. She couldn't do the physical tests or the knowledge testing. She was failing everything.

She was not honorably discharged. She received an ELS, an "Entry-Level Separation Discharge." When a soldier fails to complete Army basic training, they will typically receive an Entry-Level Separation (ELS) discharge, which is neither honorable nor dishonorable. It's an embarrassment.

You can Google the boot camp timeline and when they get to handle weapons.

When you earn a Marksmanship Qualification Badge at the Sharpshooter level, the primary documentation includes:

DA Form 3595-R: The scorecard used during qualification to record your hits.

DA Form 5790-R: Used specifically for specialized weapons like the M249.

ERB/SRB Update: A clerk must enter the qualification into your Enlisted Record Brief (or Soldier Record Brief) for promotion points and permanent record.

Permanent Orders: Official orders generated by your unit’s S1 to authorize the wearing of the badge

NOT a Veteran

To be considered a veteran, you must have served on active duty and received a discharge under conditions other than dishonorable.

Failing out of boot camp results in an Entry Level Separation (ELS). Since you did not complete initial entry training or serve the minimum required time (typically 24 months for modern enlistments), you do not meet the legal definition of a veteran.

SALTPETER

New Car

Fake "Boyfriends."

Surgery: Disgusting Treatment of the Nicest People in the World. Then Decades of Lying & Playing the Victim.

***** NEW *****

VW Van Life

Evicted!!!!

$$$$ Redecorated. $$$$

Family session w/ Violet's psychologist.

Deposit Checks Into My Account.

Meet Toofless-Tufeea

Your chauffeur madam!

Christmas Time

Strange Visit

Two Cups of Blood!

No "Y."

**** NEW ****

Not a Prince, Junior.

Trip to the Mainland.

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***** New *****

The Victim Card.

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Not an OOPS Baby...A Welfare Baby for a Welfare Queen.

Famous Hawaiian Performer

More Posted BS & Lies.

Stimulus Checks

I was the only one who stuck up for her when our niece made molestation accusations against her.

Catalog Business

900 #'s, YUCK!

Her Son-in-law

It's Just Genealogy Research. Who needs facts?

She spread more lies...Of Course.

When Dad was Dying...

***** NEW *****

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. "In Army basic combat training (BCT), recruits typically first handle a rifle during the second phase, which usually occurs around weeks 3-4." (Google it.)

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