Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,

Hi Everybody,

Is this woman beautiful or what?

Big day. I got myself out of the house. I don't know when I started staying in the house but today I dragged myself out. Who else here was having trouble getting out of the house, I'm having trouble remembering, shoot? Oh well, I was determined to keep my agreement to go see my friend Susan. it actually wasn't hard to do, I just thought it might be. You know I don't have any trouble going to Tahiti or France but ask me to meet you for lunch somewhere and I can guarantee you I'll feel rotten that morning and need to stay home. I'm working on this, it seems to have been building for a while but it's been pretty bad for some time. I didn't even realize how agoraphobic I was becoming. I mean I knew something was off because whenever a neighborhood friend would move more than walking distance away, no matter how much I loved them, that would be the end of our friendship. Sad isn't it?

Oooh yuck, I was just cleaning my face and chest, ooh baby yes my chest, ha ha, with a cotton pad and some astringent and yikes; that pad aint white no more.

I don't want to sound like Kim Basinger here but it has been hard for me to get motivated to do any of the things i need to get done. i feel like I've been making progress and when you consider that just two years ago I was rolling around on my bed sobbing, this is certainly better. here's another important mundane tidbit for you, if you have teeth that need care but you're too afraid of the dentist to go, they get worse. Trust me on this. Then if you cook a tofu-corn-dog for too long in the microwave, so that it become so hard you could knock out a burglar with it, but somehow missed this, and then you take a bite out of it, well, these teeth, the ones that need the dental care, they're liable to protest and send a friendly little reminder to the brain, known as a pain signal.

Oh and that Snapple, the rusty capped one I had earlier, I didn't die so I guess it wasn't botulism : )

Okay, so come with me now on a journey through my day, as I sit here gnawing around the hard parts of this tofu-corn-dog. I'm listening to Mike, the wannabe Art Bell, on Coast To Coast, AM radio. He's okay, but every once in a while he gets pissy and barks a bit at a guest. They're talking about frontal lobe development and learning to click your amigdalla forward.

So I was telling you about going to my friend S's new home. She was living in a condo in Hollywood with her good-man-partner-husband J. After having owned their condo for years a family of Russians moved in upstairs, stripped the carpet out of their condo, and began clomping around on the hardwood floors. Well, S. suffers from a sleep disorder that makes it very hard for her to fall back to sleep if disturbed by noise and she's a professor who has an entire department to oversee and classes to teach. She couldn't afford to go without sleep, night after night, while she listened to the Russian couple, their son, and mother-in-law, fight, fuck, play, walk around, and open and close the closet doors. After trying a variety of ways to resolve this and being treated pretty poorly, including having the word bitch scratched on her car, (did they scratch it in, or write it on the dust, I cant remember) she started to look for a way out.

After much dreary depressing lessor condo hunting she came up with this really brilliant idea. The most expensive land in Los Angeles is obviously determined by location. Malibu being one of the most expensive because of the ocean, followed closely by the Pacific Palisades, Santa Monica, Brentwood, Bel Air and Beverly Hills. Homes in these neighborhoods can cost millions and rarely can be found for under $500,000.00. Well, it turns out that there are these really sweet mobile home communities right off Pacific Coast Highway, in these nice little terraced developments.

When I first heard mobile home, I had the same reaction you're doubtless having right now, but knowing how good S. is at always finding the best, and most creative solution to any problem, I figured these must be different somehow. Well, they're really great and I love their new home. You'd never know you were in one of those prefab homes you occasionally see traveling along, split in half, on the freeway. I'm so happy for them. For exactly what they were paying for a condo, on the ground floor of a huge complex, in a semi-sketchy neighborhood, they now have a beautiful little home with high ceilings, skylights, a huge spa tub, a great walk in closet, three bedrooms, a garden and a soon to be built roof deck with a million dollar view. It's amazing, and I'm so happy for them. You know S. always proves to me that whatever you want is really within your grasp if you can just be a little bit creative about it.

I had a good time at S and J's even though I wasn't feeling so well. there were lots of kitties in the very quiet street. I liked playing with the neighbor cats. I brought an orchid and some feng shue objects, (candles, red envelopes, a bell, candles and a diagram/wheel) and two little stuffed kitty friends, because even though S. would really like to have one, she can't because she's allergic and has to be really careful. She used to have cats and then become allergic and developed asthma. I would die if I became allergic to cats.

Okay so I visited with my friends and then met some of the neighbors and looked around and thought about what an amazing deal this whole thing was. Then my beloved Scott-monkey came by and saw the place and then S. and Scotty and I went out to Dukes where they had steak, I had a potato and we watched the surf crash against the rocks and splash up and spray the windows. It was really nice and despite all the pain I've been in I had a good time being with these people who I love so much.

Well, then Scotty wanted to go home alone because he was feeling blue and shy about his apartment not being clean so we talked for a while in his car instead and then I hung out on S and J's little front porch and we talked about all kinds of things. That was really nice too. Then I headed home via two McDonalds so I could pick up Teenie Beanies for the kids.

At the first McDonalds the darned drive through was closed so I had to go in and face the "night people." So in line ahead of me there was a weary tall woman who just wanted to get her burger and fries and these two really, and I mean really, wacky, foreign people. They were mother and son, the mother being in her eighties, bent over and somewhat fragile with the strangest hat and clothes and the son being sixty something and looking like some kind of burned out put upon professor in some old Italian movie. So there they were yattering away at these bored, tired, Spanish-speaking, wage-slave teenagers, who couldn't care less, and certainly didn't have a clue what they were going off about.

The mother was saying something about her son leaving her there for too long while he went off and took a pill, and the son was saying that he wouldn't do anything like that and that she was crazy and he had the papers to prove it. Each one wanted to prove how put upon and mistreated they were and no one gave a shit, except me, the sucker. So the little old lady with the strange hat with the Minnie Pearl tag dangling off the brim started waving her purse around, pinwheeling it over her head and talking at me. The son started grumbling about her insanity while he counted nickels out of a little plastic bag and lined them up on the counter before a flat expressionless robot girl. Then he turned to me and told me not to worry she was tumor crazy and would I like to see the papers. Man what a mother will go through to get her children Beanie Babies.

Next up was the really crazy Mcdonalds, the last was just the warm up. I forgot to mention that no amount of training and explanatory materials from corporate will make the purchase rules uniform from one store to the next during Teenie Beenie hunting season. So at each store you just have to surrender to the will of the all powerful manager. It helps if you're friendly, smile nicely and speak Spanish. Bueno, so at McDonalds # 2, we'll call it the crazy Mcdonalds, I not only had to wait in line between several arguing, alcoholic, homeless gentlemen, but accept the two nickels, a man who introduced himself to me as James Baker Baker, but you can call me Jim, insisted I take from him. Then there was the big, simple fellow, who kept smiling at me and approaching the window, shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot, and then suddenly changing his mind and scurrying back to the tables. He did this several times before I figured out it must be all right for me to cut in. All of this pales by comparison to the surreal weirdness of trying to buy Teenie Beanies in Spanish from a confused McDonalds employee at the walk up window. I'm not sure how but I wound up with fifteen hamburgers and two bags full of little dinosaurs and bears. The other Mcdonalds provided me with cats and snakes.

Now here's the really beautiful part about this. The part that I like to call the Teenie Beanie, win-win part. The kids get the Beanies and the scruffy but generally pretty nice homeless folks get the burgers and a pie or two and some fries. Everyone is happy. This is great and there's no downside as far as I can tell. Jim Baker Baker didn't want any burgers but he did tell me that I was lovely and gave me a nice diagram for a formal place setting. Yes, he did. Now I will never have to wonder which side the salad fork goes on or if the butter knife come before the dinner knife and where the hell the water and wine glasses go and in which order. Earlier in the day I bought a father's day poem from my favorite homeless community member, the guy who stands out in front of San Vincente Foods. It's so nice to hand someone a few dollars and have them hand you a poem rather than spit on your window and wipe it off with a really greasy piece of newspaper.

The kids found a plastic, sand box, play turtle, and a whole bunch of toys today out in front of a neighbors house. When they started to drag them home she came out and gave them more things, pencils, swim meet and diving medals from the eighties and little planters and negatives. Doesn't that sound just a little strange? Hmmmmm.

Beau got bored and decided to fill the trampoline hole right up to the top with water. Great, it'll be real fun when the mosquitoes come and breed. He also kicked the refrigerator and the kitchen trash can, and threw a bunch of pillows around, because he was angry. He was angry because he didn't get to share his portfolio with one of his friends before the bus came, and then when he came home from school, there wasn't any root beer and he had really been looking forward to root beer, stupid Mom, grrrrrrrrr.

Here is something from Beau's portfolio that he brought home today;

"My Biography on Amir by: Beau
Amir's most important event was when he did not see his dad for a month and then one day he saw his dad at school. Amir's wants you to know he gets scered a lot. He hates Nickalis Cage. His favorit math subjecket is multipickashan."

Poor Amir, poor Nickalis Cage, what did he ever do to deserve Amir's enmity

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