Wednesday, January 1, 2014

The Caper of the Frozen Door Knob (No one could make these things up)

The Narcissistic Drama Queen Finds a way to play two parts!

A few days ago I went out to my car to find it covered about a quarter of an inch thick with ice, both caught in place flowing down the windows and over the body of the car. It was not possible to see out of any of the windows, something I had never experienced before, though I have lived in snowy environments for any number of years. Additionally, a brief examination of other automobiles parked nearby revealed my car to be unique in this condition.


I turned on the engine and ran the car for a half an hour, getting out at intervals to scrape the windows and remove the very miniscule layer of snow which had accumulated. Since the car had been used the day before this gave me pause for thought. It looked as if someone had turned a hose on my car for some time the night before, allowing the water to freeze over and over again.

I noted this in my log, which my attorney asked me to keep on the many curious incidents associated with Rayelan, the Drama Queen and Highly Psychopathic Individual with whom I am presently in conflict.

I said nothing to her or anyone else except counsel, filming and documenting, as requested.

The next day, as I was leaving the house with my disabled son Rayelan remarked loudly on the previous freezing conditions. I knew perfectly well her own car had shown no sign of what I had seen exhibited on my own. I said nothing, simply getting in my car and going about my business.

Thereafter, I have gone out once or twice a night to check the car and clear off snow, as this is easier even in normal conditions before the snow melts and refreezes, which is does without creating the pattern of running water so obvious on the occasion mentioned.

Last night January 1, 2014, I went out twice. One the first occasion, at 2:30am, I cleared the car and opened and closed the doors. The snow had accumulated to about four inches but cleared easily leaving no ice on the car itself.

Then, after making breakfast I again went out to dump the trash at 7:30am. On this occasion I again cleared the car. Again, no appreciable ice on the car.

Returning to the house on the second occasion I noticed drips of ice from the door knob. Odd, I thought. The pattern of snow on the porch was not deep enough to account for this. The door worked as usual, though I kept my glove on when turning the knob. It closed and locked, again as usual. I locked up, though when I had left the house it was unlocked and I always lock the knob when leaving even for a few minutes.

Then, this morning, Rayelan, The Drama Queen Downstairs began exclaiming over the door, slamming it over and over again and leaving it open so the freezing air could rush into the house and make it frigid on the second floor where I live with my son. Again, I made no comment though I could hear her making multiple phone calls on this frightful vandalism in the highly dramatic inflections she employs on these, and nearly all, occasions.

Note that the slightly British accent in her voice is the product of speech therapy necessitated by severe problems in her adolescence. Any implication of an upper class origin is entirely fantasy.

I surmise Rayelan, or one of her paid cronies, doused my car. Then, Rayelan decided to make it look as if I was retaliating so she doused the door knob and, perhaps, even monkeyed with it in some other way.

This may be a set up for an entirely new drama of trying to change the locks, which would, doubtless, necessitate a call to the police, who I am loath to bother since their time should be focused on activities of a more adult kind.

Rayelan is clearly frozen at a pre adolescent emotional age, which makes sense when you listen to the astonishing things she wants you to believe, including her stories of a career working for the CIA in various roles. On reflection, these are very much at odds with her present positioning as a Defender of Justice against this Agency. But reality has very little to do with it.

For a narcissist it is always about them. Nothing which does not feature them in a starring role is really of any interest what so ever.

I will continue to do as counsel asked and document these incidents so the record will be available when litigation begins. Another step on the path to that much wished for event took place last weekend when counsel and assistant were able to visit my cabin and note the various impacts of my absence on my property there.

Ah! Interrogatories, Depositions. It will make a great addition to the book, which is progressing nicely.