Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui

Hello My Darlings,

I'm at my favorite Boba House waiting for my milk tea boba. They kindly provide a computer for customers who buy drinks, yeay. Next I'm going to the plant store to get plants to spruce up our very deadish looking garden. We've got some kind of bug that's been chowing down on our roses. That won't look too wonderful in photos. So I've got to buy some flowering plants to sneak in here and there. After that it's off to fabric land to buy the fabric for the valances, seat cushions and maybe for a bedspread.

I had to get up early this morning to meet the painters who are furiously painting my kitchen and the picket fence and security gate out front. These guys are FAST. They make the last painter we had look very, very bad indeedy. Our last contractor told me that this last painter was the worst painter he'd ever worked with but she's my Mother's secretary's daughter and she's cute and gay so it made it kind of hard for me to let her go. I wanted to be supportive and help Mom's secretary by tossing work to her daughter, plus I like supporting women and then there was the whole young, pierced, tatooed, lesbian, rebel gal angle. It's hard to fire someone when they're someone you'd like to be pals with. Oh let's face it, it's hard for me to fire anyone, I'm too damned empathic.

I also met with an interior designer gal this morning who is going to take my fun and funky forties tablecloths, and my terrific linen Craftsman pieces and turn them into little cafe curtains and valances. everyone starts early and no one really gets a fibromyalgic, messed up bladder, Internet and TV addict woman like me's messed up sleep schedule. Somehow I don't think that last sentence would pass the grade in a writing class, heh.

I'm still feeling the burn from the whole stupid drama thing that happened in my journal before we left for New York. Oh that reminds me, I finally broke down, admitted that I really do live in Los Angeles, and sadly turned my watch back to Pacific Coast Time, very sad that. There was a kind person who went over to Lisa_L's journal and got into it with her anonymously. They said that they were opposed to anyone posting something in another person's journal that would cause that person to essentially censor their writing and staunch the flow of ideas. I appreciated reading that, but I also got to read little jewels of judgment about my treatment of my son and my mom and how much money flows through my house and what a loser I am, bla bla bla, and it kind of sticks in my metaphoric teeth as I write. I'm thin skinned enough, like many artists, to hear this little voice that says, "Ooooh be careful, "they" might not like what you're writing, "they" might be judging you for this." Argh, it makes me want to scream, or get some good biofeedback, join a good Bikram yoga class and sweat out the neurosis, yup.

Beau and I went for another late night bike ride last night, which was so much fun, but because I must give off some kind of, "hey bugs come and get your sugar fix here" scent signal, (I mean it, I always get hit so much worse than anyone else I know, and I'm allergic so I get these huge swollen itchy bumps), the mosquitoes got me. It's so hard to keep myself from scratching, but if I so much as touch these little bites they turn into great big bites the size of silver dollars. Oh well, everyone's got something they're allergic too.

Okay must go before the gardeners slam that gate shut, they close promptly at 4:30. Wish me luck, there must be something pretty and flowering in season now. Oh wait, guess what, I'm such a sucker, turns out some of the fabrics I'd been buying on line and at swap meets were misrepresented as vintage when they aren't vintage at all. Man. I could have bought them at F&S Fabrics and saved myself a little money.

I wish I felt comfortable posting things publicly but I don't just yet. I added a bunch of people last night, pretty much anyone who had friended me, unless their names were scary and warranted some further scrutiny, I don't exactly feel comfortable adding people with names like, IllFUOVER, (I just made that up, don't go look it up, I can't remember the ones I read last night but there were a couple that were similarly sketchy), just yet.

I'm going to try to catch up with you guys, read some of your journals and respond to your loving, kind, and super supportive posts that I am always so grateful for, tonight, right after I practice guitar. Promise.

Hugs,
Jac
XOXOXOXO

PS: I love my Scott and I love you too!
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