This is my favorite Halloween postcard. I think I post it every year.
This is actually my family's crypt in Hamilton Ohio -- there are just three of us left --seemed appropriate for Halloween.
My grammar school principal, Sister Jean, (She lives about five doors away from me, along with the other Marymount sisters, my dear friends and teachers, who moved here, to my street, of all the places on the planet, my two principals -- grammar and high school, my math, history and home room teachers, what a small world hunh?) was standing in front of my house the other day, looking at all of the Halloween decorations, and I thought, now would be a good time to check in with her, to see how the sisters felt about my going sooo overboard on Halloween, while being a bit more sedate in my decorating scheme at Christmas. I had been worrying about this, hoping they wouldn't think all of these crazy ghoulish decorations and pumpkins meant I was worshipping Satan or something.
She was so sweet, (they always are), and I wish I could do this for you out loud so you could hear her darling faded Irish accent but she said, "Oh Jacqui darlin' you needn't be worrying about that now. You do so much for the neighborhood and everyone loves it. It's all about bringing out the child in people and making them happy. We don't think you have any reason other than that for doing all of this. It's lovely dear."
Thank God! *Jacqui wipes a worried bead of sweat from her brow!* Honestly, I was afraid they might be thinking I was a little too interested in this spookiest of holidays, if you know what I mean, heh. Sometimes it's a little hard to get away from being an eager to please Catholic School girl when the nuns live steps away from your front door.
Some of Beau's fish died : ( I bet you could have seen this coming. I'm so sad. Everyone told us this would happen -- as if fish dying in order to get a tank started is just fine -- just the normal process of creating an aquarium. But it's not just fine, it makes me really sad. I love all of these fish and I feel as if I have a responsibility to provide a safe loving home for every one that I bring home. I don't think fish are disposable just because they cost so little. How am I going to tell Beau this? I could easily purchase a few more fish to replace the missing ones and he'd never know, but I don't lie to him, and don't want to start. I'm going to test the water again and see what we need to do. Then I'll have to tell him when he comes home. I won't tell him over the phone if he calls. I don't want him to be sad while he's away from home.
This is why I don't like keeping fish, I take it all way too personally, get too attached, and when they die I'm as sad as if a dog or cat died. I used to have Betas but I fall in love with them and there isn't a fish vet around here who can help me when they get sick.
I saw an episode of Nova recently about fish veterinarians. They were doing a surgery on someone's beloved goldfish. They were also able to attach a cork to another fish so he or she could swim upright, and performed orthopedic surgery on a koi who had been struck by lightning.
I think it's amazing and wonderful that not only are vets pioneering techniques to help people save their beloved pet fish, but that a show like Nova would produce a special like this so that viewers can maybe begin to understand that fish and humans can bond, can interact, and that fish have as much life and feeling as any other living being.
I know this because I'm sensitive, it goes hand in hand with the depression. It's the good flip side to this conundrum of whether being sensitive causes the depression, or whether being a depressive makes one sensitive, chicken, egg, egg, chicken. Who knows? I just know that I feel things in relation to other living things that most of the people I've known in my life do not. And of course being a scuba diver certainly has helped in relation to relating to fish. When you've been underwater and had a school of chattering fish come by, swirl around you, bop your mask, check you out, beep and click at you, and follow you, you know that they can communicate. If you move too fast they get scared and back off. If you make noises back at them they get curious. It's so clear that they are sentient. How it is that people don't know this, or can dismiss their basic rights in favor of some cruel, overly romanticized, father son bonding sport like fishing just baffles me.
One of my friend's here, who has fish, said that she wanted my e-mail so I sent it to her, and I'm guessing she was going to write to me with some advice about our fish and the new tank, but I never got a e-mail from her. My AOL Spam filters are pretty aggressive, which is a relief compared to the way it used to be. Now I don't get all of the cock lengthening, porn, mortgage, refinance, discount watch and Viagra ads anymore, but these new filters suck up all of the mail, the good and the bad, and the only way I can guarantee that I will get a particular e-mail is if I specifically list that person's address in my filter. I get three days to go through the Spam before it gets dumped and with my life that just isn't something I'm able to keep up with, sigh.
Beau's away on this groovy outdoor bonding adventure with his class in Ojai, and I miss him. I'm so happy he went though. These are the trips that Jack Osbourne made fun of on one of the episodes of The Osbournes. He went to the same school Beau goes to, but he hated it, particularly these trips, that I think he called New Age Hippie Sing Alongs, or something like that, and he ended up dropping out in favor of home schooling.
This is Beau's first time going away on one of these signature class trips of his school. We tried for years to get him to go, and by we I mean, his teachers, his vice principal, the principal, the school therapist, his tutor, my Mother, Scott, and myself, but no matter how hard we tried to persuade him, he just wouldn't go. He was too afraid. Then something finally shifted this summer, he went to his rock and roll band camp, and I guess his desire to do something that was completely self motivated was enough to overcome his fear of leaving home, and since he was able to do that, these school trips must seem less threatening by comparison. He'll be back soon complaining about everything. I'm sure I'll have plenty to tell you then.
They wouldn't let the kids take their I-pods, Game Boys, or Laptops. This was a major hardship for our electronically dependent teens and I'm really glad about it. I think it will be good for them. We'll see.
I bought Atra a cool black Emily wig because she mentioned in passing that she wanted one. She just called and asked if I would bring it over to loan it to her. Pfft loan, I bought it FOR her. People, people, people. I've been helping her with her homework and in order to thank me she made me the coolest orange and black popcorney sparkley scarf. It's sooo cool. Please don't worry about my helping Atra, I'll explain later, we've worked this out...
I wrote about helping Atra in an earlier post, one of about six or seven that I've written over the last week or so and just haven't ever had the time to finish. The funny thing about these posts is that they are mostly posts about other posts that I haven't had the time to finish. Hopefully tonight after Scott leaves I'll have enough energy to finish these up and share them.
Usually what happens, and this is so ADDish, is that I'll be writing about my day, which will remind me about something else, then I'll go off on some tangent -- tell some story, get bogged down in the details, get distracted by something else, and end up having to save everything to finish later. Oh well.
Our Halloween decorations are almost complete. Maybe I just need to accept that this is the way it will always be, and that I'll never get it done at the end of September so that we'll all just be able to relax and enjoy it throughout the month of October. I make this promise to myself every single year and no matter how intent I am on keeping it, something always gets in the way. Now I'm telling myself that I'd better get the holiday cards done before I start stressing out over them...
Last night I met with a super nice woman who is kindly volunteering her time to scan a lot of my Mother and Grandmother's old photographs and press clippings to use in a Power Point slide show that will be projected onto the stage on either side of the runway that the models will be walking down. That reminds me, I have got to get over to the website to buy some more tickets for our vintage fashion show and tea, ack.
I'm feeling a little better with each passing day, but one of my lymph nodes is still swollen. I went through a battery of tests to rule out cancer, mono, and other assorted scary things and luckily everything came back negative. Now I just have to have a doctor stick a needle in this and suck out some cells, weeee...
Last night's weird dream involved a high end shoe store. I was in this shoe store looking at these gorgeous shoes when I noticed there was a bird cage in the middle of the room. But instead of being filled with birds, it was full of these beautiful bat-like creatures. They were shades of pink and lavender, furry and so cute and sweet, but a little wild and dangerous. People were picking out which ones they wanted to have made into shoes the way people select lobsters from a tank -- a practice that has always absolutely horrified me.
For some reason you are not supposed to keep these exotic bat babies as pets, and I'm afraid I'll get caught and someone will take them away from me, but I manage to persuade the store manager to sell a couple to me. I have to be certain that she won't kill them for their skin. I see a pattern in an ad that shows how much of the skin can be obtained for shoe use. The picture is of the skin of the bat stretched out showing where pleats would fall because these are the places where the little bat creatures wings would fold up against it's body.
There was also another dream about my being part of a reality show and feeling much older than the rest of the cast. We had to do artwork, vote for each other, and cross a river in the dark at night. But that's about all that I remember.
I finally decided to reach out to an old friend of mine who I haven't spoken to in twenty years or more because well, because I care about her and wish her well, and she's had such a good year. I just want to congratulate her and catch up. Plus one of my Live Journal pals here ran into her in New York and I thought that was kind of enough of a coincidence to make my not calling her seem silly. I just don't like to bother my more successful friends because I imagine they get people calling all the time asking for things. Not that I wouldn't love to get some acting work now that I'm broke and ready to work again, but that's not why I called. I really just want to say hello and send her some things I've been picking up for her over the years -- I'm a swap-meet-garage-sale loving kind of gal and whenever I see anything about her Mom, who was famous as well, I think, "Oh I'll get that for my old friend and give it to her some day." We'll see what happens. I left a message for her with her agent, and the super nice woman at the alumnae office of our high school.
I have to go...and damnit if I haven't been able to get around to wishing any of you a Happy Belated Birthday since August, I think. I keep telling myself that I'll get caught up. I update my little electronic card, and then I get bogged down in editing my friend's list, and before I know it I'm too worn out to do any more than that. One of these days...