Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui

What Will the New Neighbor's Think?

Oh God I had just finished writing this entry when my beloved Niki-Cat came galloping up, ran across the screen -- aiming for the little bitty bit of space between my belly and the keyboard -- and did something that deleted everything and shut me down. Aww cats, gotta love 'em, and here he is again ready to repeat the whole process all over again. Ha ha ha Mr. Niki-Gati, no chance -- I have outsmarted you this time. I'm writing this in another window and saving it as I go. Like leaving my beloved new bike all alone and unguarded among dozens of other bikes at center camp, at two in the morning at Burning Man, I will not be doing that again.

I had the worst night's sleep last night. I really tried though -- I skipped watching the Emmy's with Scott, in order to come home and rest my hurting back but wound up screwing around on the computer and sitting up for a bit when I should have been laying down. Then I don't know what kept me up -- my hurting bladder and back maybe? But I definitely didn't get much sleep. Argh, sleep deprivation sucks and I so need to pull it together for Beau and Scott -- I have so much to do, as usual.

I am so excited and a little bit anxious because Scott is taking possession of his new house tonight! We're gonna go pick up the keys when he gets off work, weeee. He really needs to buy new a bed, a couch, and maybe a TV. I just want to go for a nekkid swim in his outdoor Jacuzzi. I'll have to remember to bring towels. Although I don't know how thrilled his Burkah/Chador wearing neighbors are going to be about this. We don't know if they're Persians or Arabs, I'm rooting for Persian, but Atra doesn't think they're Iranian with the whole Chador thing going on. Whatever they are, with all those scarves, I'm betting they're not going to be the kind of folks who are going to appreciate a couple of naked hippy freaks moving in next door. Maybe we'll just do weird shit to freak them out, hold loud meditative chanting sessions outside with Tibetan sounding bowls and bells, Om Tare Tutare Ture Soha, kaching. Or we could just blast trance music and host local outdoor Burning Man video screenings and set stuff on fire. Actually, with Scott's music get togethers it probably won't be too far off from this, and there is the fact that we are both meditating naturists.

There we'll be in the hot tub screwing away going, "Oh baby, oh baby, oh yeah baaaaby, oooh, oooh, OOOOOHHHH YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, like that, yeah baby just like that, JUST LIKE THAT YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!" and they'll be freaking out. What are they gonna do while they're reading the Koran and serving their tea, call a mullah or something? They'll probably call the cops, "Please to come over immediately Mr. Policeman. You must to do something with the loud sex making people what are making so much noise in the little hot pool, this is very rude!"

I took Mom out and played with her all day and night last Saturday. We had fun. I picked her up early to take her to her sweet hair salon. I brought along a deeply decadent chocolate fudge cake from Bellwood for her wonderful and fun hair stylist Ashley. Despite his being really into health, working out hard core, and careful eating he made the big mistake of letting it slip, to me of all people, that he was helpless around chocolate, and slowly recovering foodie that I am, I knew just what to do. I had my pals at Bellwood whip up their richest cake and write, "Ashley, Work This Off," right across the top of it.

Afterwards we went to see Vanity Fair -- I don't care that it has it's flaws, particularly the ending -- as long as it's British and period, with costumes and a bit of romance, I'm all over it. When it was over we picked up Scott and went to this upscale Mexican restaurant that I like that Mom and Scott weren't too thrilled about, darn it. There was a woman there with the prettiest breasts so I just went up to her and told her so, life's short, why not, and she was so happy because she had just had them done after a lifetime of being mistaken for her twin brother. Then after that I dropped off Scotty and went back with Mom to her house where I showed her all of our Burning Man pictures.

Scott has been so sweet to me -- love my man. He went with me to my favorite British tea house for little tea sandwiches, scones and Devon cream the other day, when what he really wanted was pasta. I had such a good time, yum, just thinking about it is making me hungry. This is the same place where Mr. Ozzie gets his British snack fix. He's in there every three or four days, I know this because the nice guy behind the counter told me so, and I recognized the store when he went for a little shopping spree on an episode of The Osbournes. I miss that show so much. Why can't they just have a life feed for those of us who are addicted to it?

My Mother's creepy housekeeper Rosa is up to her usual tricks and has scared off another weekend housekeeper. Martha is finally fed up and going to quit, damnit! She called me yesterday to tell me that she's sorry but she just can't stand working with Rosa any more. And there isn't anything I can do about it. I know my Mom so well, she won't listen to anything I say about Rosa and she'll just scapegoat Martha. How many wonderful weekend people does she have to lose before she figured out that there is something seriously wrong and dark going on with Rosa?

I begged Martha to please at least do me the favor of telling my Mom the truth before she leaves but like everyone else who has left before her she said she is too afraid of Rosa to get into it and is just going to make up some excuse for her leaving, flip. She said, "In our culture we have a word for what Rosa is, she is a bruja (witch) and I don't want to have any troubles with her." God, if only I had all of these many conversations saved on tape somewhere so I could confront my Mom with them. How would she be able to ignore a string of good women all saying the same thing, "Rosa is evil. She's a witch. She's bad. I can't work with her."

Apparently the final straw for Martha -- after she's been one of the most tenacious gals we've ever had -- was Rosa's latest madness with some really big creepy bones, seeds, and Mom's garbage disposal. "Someone" already broke it once a couple of weeks ago and blamed it on Martha so before she'll ever run it, she puts her hand down the drain to make sure Rosa hasn't left anything down there that anyone can blame her for.

This kind of thing has scared me ever since I was a kid and saw an episode of that Emergency show where a guy had put his hand down the drain and turned on the disposal, oh, yeesh, chills. Anyway while checking the disposal yesterday Martha found a really outrageous, guaranteed to break any disposal, collection of bones and seeds. At least she had the courage to pull them out, and put them on a paper towel to show Mom. It was so gross and I honestly don't know which of these many scenarios to pick from, either a.) Rosa's newly arrived daughter didn't get the needed instruction in what you can and cannot put in garbage disposals, or b.) Rosa is stupid, or c.) Rosa is an evil scheming manipulator who loaded up the disposal hoping Martha would turn it on and lose her job when it broke for the second time in such a short time, or d.) she was up to some kind of creepy Santorian black magic weirdness, or e.) Rosa is stupid, oh sorry I already said that, well, then it must be true. You really should have seen how weird this stuff was, some of it did not look like it came from anything you could buy at a market.

Oh and if you haven't been reading my journal for long, please don't jump to the conclusion that I dislike Rosa because I'm a racist bourgeois bitch, because even though I may be bourgeois and a bitch, I am definitely not racist. Rosa and I have a whole ugly history between us, and I'm just paranoid enough these days that I worry she may have someone reading this to her, oh God wouldn't that be scary? I'm just so disappointed because I had thought we were improving relations, considering I was the deciding factor in getting Mom to loan her a mini-fortune to bring her kids over, but now that's all shaken out and forgotten she's back to her old tricks, jockeying for power and trying to make everyone else look bad.

Okay well, enough blathering. As usual I am sleep deprived and overloaded. All I want to do is sleep, waaaaa : ( I'm getting things done though.

I'm sorry I haven't been putting up images lately, I haven't had the time, but I'm working on it. I don't want to lose all my LJ pals and readers because I haven't fed you enough eye candy. Oh and Phil Phil Phil Phil, just in case you're counting, ha ha ha.

Big loving hugs,
Wacqui
XOXOXO

PS: Good article in this month's Oprah by Maya Angelou about a shitheel man she loved and a better banana pudding.
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