Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui

TV Troubles, Weird Dreams, My Sick Kitty, Jerry Stahl, Rosa's Immigration Problems, Our Burning Man

High School Freshman Fights To Ban Animal Acts At Denver Circus

I saw this when I signed on today. I'm so inspired when people this young do things like this. I used to be so on point when it came to animal rights issues, I was so aggressive and fearless, but then as I got older, had Beau and took on so many animals, I had more to lose so I softened.

I'm having trouble with my DVD player and my TV. I can't tell if its this Netflix DVD or the player itself but its being glitchy and strange, kind of like the DVD version of a record skipping, The TV is having some kind of weird signal interference but it isn't coming from the cable -- its definitely the TV, its making this click, click, clicking sound that sounds like little interrupted bursts of electricity. Of course with all the TVs we have here this would have to be the only one that I can't find a Best Buys warranty for, argh.

I woke up after having had another disturbing dream. My dreams are so vivid and if I write them down right away I can remember so many of the details. Of course I think my dreams are fascinating because they've been dredged up from my subconscious, symbols I find meaningful and exciting whether I understand them or not because one part of my mind is shouting out for the attention of the other.

I'm in some version of my home. Esther is here and so is Anna. They haven't been keeping up with the animals and things have gotten really messy. Something is wrong with the dogs and they have diarrhea. I'm worried about them, more that we'll be reported and someone will come and kill all of our pets than that I will be able to get them well again.

We seem to be in Palm Springs. There is an old house here that my Father has left to me. I go into a room and am looking around. It's a kind of storage room and there are things that have been left here, clothes, books, photo albums. I notice some pictures on the wall of houses my Dad owned. The pictures are mostly of the swimming pool in the back yard of one house. My Father must have loved this pool -- it's pretty elaborate. In a couple of the pictures I can make him out and another man and a woman. The couple he is with are the Hiltons, Cathy Hilton and her husband, Paris and Nicky's parents. I didn't know that my Dad knew them.

I leave the room and go back to my part of this house where I tell some woman about this in order to impress her. Then I go back to look at this house of my Dad's. It's built at the back of the lot and seems kind of abandoned. The neighbors have taken over the whole front yard -- put in swings and slides for their kids to play on and a Mexican family have opened a little food concession here. I'm thinking that this isn't right that these people have just kind of taken over and that someone has set up a business in our yard but isn't paying rent. I'm going to have to deal with this somehow.

I walk back down this hallway and notice that there is some kind of weird lake in the front yard where everything was before and from the inside of the house you can see under the water as if someone cut into this deep underground lake and placed a glass wall and a house here. It's interesting to stand here in this hallway and be able to see under the water -- to see the rocks and mud around the edges. I wonder how this happened, how this lake or pond got here.

I go back to tell people about this, to tell them to come and see and my old friend Lorraine is interested and comes back with me. We are standing in front of the glass wall when we suddenly feel the beginnings of an earthquake. It rumbles up from beneath our feet and spreads out as it gains in strength. There is a woman here, a wealthy society woman, the one I had wanted to impress by telling her that my Father knew the Hiltons and she is alarmed. She thinks its dangerous to be standing in front of this wall of water -- that it could break. I'm too busy being fascinated by all of the geological phenomenon -- there are crystals and geodes being formed, sparkling, glittering jeweled stones are jumping up and down at the edges of my view through the window and then the window cracks and gives way and we are overcome with a wave of water.

I hold my breath as the water fills this hallway and rushes to fill the house. I can feel rocks and mud and things rubbing up against my legs as the water surges around me and pushes me forward through this hallway. I am worried about Lorraine. She's behind me somewhere and I need to know that she's all right. I break for the surface but the water keeps pouring in through the wall and I am pushed further into the house by the current. Eventually the water level drops low enough that I can stand and I am relieved to have survived.

I make my way back towards to site of the disaster to try to find Lorraine and see what is happening. There are lots of people here now, news crews, reporters, medical people, the authorities, but I can't find Lorraine anywhere and I am overwhelmed with exhaustion, shock and worry. I am afraid that she has drowned.

I keep trying to get someone's attention, someone in charge -- anyone who might take an interest and care enough to help me find her, but they are all too busy and unconcerned with my plight. I am cold and wet and shivering and someone hands me a blanket. Finally I start sobbing and it looks as if a news channel might tape my plea for my lost friend but just then the dream shifts forward in time and I am in another part of this house.

The earthquake has torn everything up, everything is in a shambles, furniture, walls, ceilings all lie in heaps on the floor. There is debris everywhere and I have to crawl over piles of it to get anywhere. I look down to see what looks like a hand with just the thumb left on it. It is my friend's thumb. I can somehow tell by the shape of it and the nail polish. Then I see her severed foot. I start to scream but just as I open my mouth something scary reaches out from beneath all the rubble and quickly snatches her hand and foot back, dragging it back under the rubble with them and that's it. Pretty little dream hunh? Nothing dark going on here.


Our little Cornish Rex cat Lucilla could use your prayers. Please send some. She lost a lot of weight suddenly, probably from the stress of having to move all of the cats around when the Animal Cops showed up, and she is in the hospital in critical condition. She's anemic and hypothermic and I'm worried. I rushed her over there Saturday morning thinking she wasn't going to make it, then they gave me hope, then they took it away again. It's always like this.

Our awful, meddling, old, crotchety neighbors, who are most likely the ones who called and reported us to the authorities on false charges of animal abuse or something like that, and then just days later cruelly put poison out for all of the backyard wildlife with no regard for anyone else's outdoor pets either, have finally left in their camper for their other home in Washington. Every year when they leave I feel like the whole neighborhood heaves a collective sigh of relief. How can they not know this? How can they not know how obvious it is that they are always the source of all trouble and complaints when life is so much more peaceful and happy during the four to six months of the year when they are not here? I would so much rather believe that this recent threat came from them rather than because I posted pictures of our rescued possums and that picture of my bed full of cats on line here. All I know is that I need to be so much more careful, with my feelings and secrets. I hate that I can't be as trusting and free as I once was here, but I don't see that I have any other choice but to be more cautious.

I added a few new people to my friend's list last night and made a journal for my friend Cheryl. She's lablover49 here now although I don't know if she knows this yet. I had to make her a journal because she was upset that she couldn't read my locked entries. While I was looking for communities that would match her interests I stumbled across a community that Lisa_L, the gal who had upset me so much a couple of months ago belongs to, so I went and checked it out. Then I saw one of her posts there and clicked on her icon and went to read her journal. I am such a masochist. Turns out she's been reading all of the same books I have at the same time I've been reading them. It sucks to discover you have a lot in common with someone who thinks so little of you.

She even knows Jerry Stahl who I met online years ago, but lots of people say they know him, who knows. We used to chat and e-mail each other and then we took it to a phone friendship level but I shied off when it was clear that he wanted me to come over and Fuck him. I had enough complications in my life without adding him to the mix. I think he's a brilliant writer but probably a pretty complicated individual, all heroin and sex addictions aside, and while I would have loved to have actually met him or taken the cyber friendship to the next level, a one night stand or an affair with Mr. Permanent Midnight was probably a little more than I could have handled at the time.

Rosa's (my Mom's housekeeper) kids are still in custody. They were caught in Phoenix Arizona shortly after they snuck across the border. The younger daughter who is fifteen was sent to another part of Arizona at first and then from there they shipped her to a juvenile facility in Washington State where she is being sent to school every day. How weird is that? I don't get why they don't just send her back or release her to her Mother. The oldest daughter, Eoris, (I'm not even sure if this is how she spells her name because Rosa can't read or write and couldn't spell it for me or even remember the years that her daughters was born, argh, Rosa, you never know if she's lying or not because she usually is), was sent to San Diego and is being held there awaiting some kind of court date. Rosa says she was able to speak with her and that she pleaded with her Mom to send her some money to buy better food than the food they are serving her in the detention center where she is being held.

This whole thing is just so sad and tragic. Why would she bring her poor kids here when there is more attention being paid to illegal immigration than ever before because of 9/11 and the upcoming elections? I think when she discovered her daughter was pregnant it forced her to step up the process so the baby would be born here. I don't fault her for this. I feel sorry for her and would do the same thing were I in her place. I just wish I could do something to help.

I've spent hours on the phone trying to track them down and get some sort of answer out of the people who are holding them and nothing makes any sense. It's not like you can just call one office and get a straight answer, there are so many different places to call, border stations, deportation centers, immigration centers and the like, and one hand doesn't know what the other is doing. It's amazing how poorly run, understaffed and inefficient the whole thing is. Their computers aren't even linked so that if someone was captured at the border crossing in Phoenix and then transported for some reason to Tucson, the Phoenix people wouldn't transfer the data to the Tucson people so there wouldn't be a record or a trail to follow. You just have to hope you can track them by their names and birth dates and when all you've got to go on are the month and day they were born and some misspelled names because their Mom can't be bothered to keep track of that sort of thing, you're basically screwed. I'm just baffled by the whole thing. My Mom even put in a couple of calls to my aunt Jani's ex boyfriend who just happens to be the Guatemalan consul in San Diego but obviously he doesn't want to be bothered because he won't return her calls.

Okay, well, as usual I have more to do than there are hours left in this day. I still have that shower to take that never happened last night and I've got to pick up the funny new Italian clown bike that I bought for Burning Man. Oh and we got a deal on a thirty foot RV, thank God, so it looks like we'll be renting one again, sigh, instead of buying a trailer. It seems like such an enormous waste of money when we could use this as a down payment instead, but it's just too much of a push to try to pull this off in time, not with all of the other expenses we've had. And get this, a week ago when I called Cruise America they gave me a whopping high quote of thirty-two hundred dollars but told me to try again in a week because the rates are always changing. Today I called and got a much bigger RV for the same length of time for a thousand dollars less, so twenty-two hundred dollars, then because I asked them to check and see how much it would cost if I picked it up just one day earlier, the rate suddenly DROPPED another five hundred dollars making the rental seventeen hundred dollars. Go figure. I guess I don't need Scott's unhelpful boss, who just happens to be their attorney, after all. Man if I'd been counting on him I'd be singing 99 Bottles of Beer On the Wall for a really long time, either that or waiting for paint to dry, good thing I'm not.

Big hugs as always,
Jacqui
XOXOXO
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