One of the things I do for the universe, in terms of niceness, is to be good to the lame people who call me by mistake. I just got a call from this woman with the thickest accent, who was looking for the Huramimalashmegalinga-something-or-other travel agency. When someone else might say ,"Hey you got the wrong number lady," and hang up, I try to be loving and helpful. It can be frustrating sometimes when someone is particularly strange and insists that whoever they are calling should be there with you, argh. One time I actually made friends with someone who called me by mistake. She was a documentary producer and she wound up hiring me to work on her project. I'll just take this opportunity here to segue into telling you that I want very badly to produce and direct my own documentaries. I love them.
Do you guys have trouble writing in your journals while at the same time keeping up with your real life? I remember that one of the most important aspects of this creativity program whose name I always forget, was to write morning journal or stream of consciousness pages. I never seemed to be able to just get up and write whatever the hell came into my mind without being overly long and taking so much time doing it that I was too weary to keep my momentum going for the rest of the day.
I need to find a way to accumulate and expend or better manage my energy. Where do you get your energy from? Is it just there for you naturally or do you do things to get it? Does exercise give you energy? Do you do anything special to get energy? What are the things that you try to avoid that drain you of energy? How many hours a night do you need to feel really good?
I have a really hard time just telling people who work for me what I want and expect from them. Por ejemplo, Coco has her three children here, the two younger ones and the teenager Selene. Well, Coco has her hands full taking care of the animals and the house and watching Beau for me when I'm working or in here at the computer. But when she's busy and the three kids are outside playing they need to be supervised. So just now I was sitting here and could here the thump thump thumping of Selene's probably stolen stereo and it was really bugging me. I feel that she should be out of her room during the day helping her mother by watching the kids. I mean I'm paying for her food and phone calls and putting up with all of this incredible added stress in order to help them out. If they were in an apartment she would be watching them during the week and have all kinds of responsibilities. I asked Coco to please have Selene stick with the kids and keep an eye on them, but she doesn't and then they get into all kinds of trouble and then when they get confronted the two little ones stick together and blame Beau. I'm so sick of it, so just now when I had to call Selene's room to ask her to turn down the bass because I couldn't think to write, and I heard the kids outside and looked out the window to see that no one was watching them and they were about to get in trouble it made me mad. So I went out in the hallway and asked Coco to please come upstairs and talk with me. I let her listen to the thumping of the stereo and then took her out on the balcony to see that the kids were getting into trouble again with the hose in the backyard and no one was there to watch them. I told her what I just told you about wanting more help from Selene. Then she made her usual excuses which always go counter to my own instincts and confuse me, making me think I'm misperceiving things and just being curmudgeonly and overly intrusive.
One of my biggest problem is that I am so hung up on being good and kind and doing the right thing. It gets in my way and I seem to think that what people think of me is in some way a reflection of my basic decency as a person. I read something my friend ana said about this that I feel the same way about; I can't stand it when people misperceive my actions or behaviors. It hurts when someone misunderstands me or thinks something about me that is untrue. I need to develop better, stronger boundaries that will protect me from caring what other people think about me so much. I mean it's normal and healthy to care a certain amount about how you are perceived by the world and to check that against your own internal knowledge of self, but to be interrupted or disturbed by it to the extent that you direct your energies towards explaining and defending and worrying, well that just can't be helpful to oneself.
You know I wish some really amazing psychiatrist would just come along and tell me what's wrong with me. Give me some label and then I could call this a journal of a bla bla bla, whatever I am, and then at least people could find value in studying it.
I'm pissed off at Beau because he talked me out of going to school again. He has a very small sore on his toe that he got from my Mom's pool or from going skating without socks and he has been complaining bitterly about it. He says that he can't wear socks or shoes. So of course he threw a fit about his socks and then when I got really angry and had to be the big bad scary parent in order to get him to comply he sat down on the stairs and said he couldn't put them on without a Band-Aid as if he didn't know where to find one. This from the kid who makes me buy Band-Aids as if they were candy, and puts them on all the time just cause they look cool, well at least the tattoo ones do.
Finally after just way too much struggle and conflict and raised voices and stress, and realizing that I was literally too tired to go on any further I sent him to his room and said I would be taking him to the foot doctor today. I'm too ashamed to admit the number of times he's managed to do that already this year. The principal called me and I have visions of men in grey suits coming to the door and taking me to some kind of detainment center for confused parents. He is such a bully and a stubborn jerk when he doesn't want to go. You should see him throw things around and act up, and I am just not capable of dragging him downstairs and shoving him in the bus like I could when he was little.
In preschool my friend Rita, the headmistress, (that sounds vaguely exciting) used to say just bring him in his PJs and drop him off, that'll teach him. He's never been easy. He's a wonderful person and I love him to the moon and back but he's a lot of work. I used to think it was normal, then I used to think it was my parenting and now I know it's a combination of things but mostly it's Beau and the person he is. I've seen other parents have an easier time of it from the moment their kids were born and they aren't better parents. Of course Robby, the jerk, blames me for everything and it makes me want to wring his stupid neck.
Now of course the day is half over, I haven't made out the GD eBay payments and my neck is so tense it feels like someone is pouring cement into a hole between my shoulder blades. Esther's son Eduardo si calling me on the phone right now and wants to know when I can take him by Uni High School so he can check it out. I have/want to write a letter of recommendation for him. He might just decide to go to Hamilton. I couldn't get him into Loyola. Getting a child into a Private High School around here is so hard it's a joke.
It kills me to think that all of the love and friendship I feel for Esther and Adelina and Coco and their families and friends is something that someone else could judge or look down on or make fun of. Why? Because they are Mexican, because Esther or Beau's friend Freddie is fat, because they are poor and live in east, LA? It just isn't fair that someone who doesn't know anything about the relationships I've had with them, who doesn't know that they are the only people who ever do anything for my birthday, or with whom I have spent countless hours sharing stories and laughing and taking walks and just sharing our lives together can just come in and judge us. Screw them. Robby hates them and considers himself to be so superior when he is barely three generations from the border himself. Just yesterday Beau told me that he hates it when he gets in the car with Robby and Robby tells him how stupid and lazy he thinks Adelina or Esther are. What a totally irresponsible thing to do.
I saw Gone In Twenty seconds last night, it had a few moments that I enjoyed but basically it was a big huge typical commercial Hollywood piece of crap. I mean here was this fabulous cast, wasted on what was essentially one big car chase. I haven't liked Frances Fisher too much since I first loved her in The Unforgiven (was that it, the Clint Eastwood film), mainly because she seems sour and tight and all of the interviews and quotes attributed to her rub me the wrong way. However I am happy that she is working. I feel sorry for her with regard to her relationship with Mr. E. even though he finally seems happy and well adjusted in his relationship with Diana Ruiz. I wonder what clicked between them that never worked with anyone else? Anyway I digressed when what I wanted to say was that even though I don't love Frances F., as a presence in films that much, I still think she got a raw deal in terms of screen time. Angelina Jolie, despite her amazing charisma was basically a sidegal, and It frightens me that even the tiniest parts in films seem to be taken by established actors. Why are people willing to take on such small roles, I guess either she got cut down or was happy for the chance to work with Duvall and all of the other great actors who made up the cast. I know I would. I guess it was a smart move on her part because after all, here I am thinking about her when I should be doing so many other things.
You know I imagine the script must have seemed really exciting in the beginning, but then the whole thing winds up like some weird version of Top Gun, where any interpersonal moment is underscored with overly dramatic music and the actors are allowed to be ponderous. Oh well, it was worth the nine dollars to see, there were some good moments. I loved Ving Rhames, I'm still confused about Nicholas Cage but think he needs my support since Beau's nine year old friend Amir, hates him so much ; ) I think one of the funniest moments was when they were breaking into the police impound yard and one of their "crew" was at the window talking to the cop about looking for his Volvo, and his bitches paging him, and then he pulled out that black Barbie and made her dance for him. I loved that and laughed so hard. Although and I don't want to be Miss Political Correctness because I think it can be unfairly censorial, I did notice that the film slammed Asian women drivers not once but twice and the moment I loved so much basically involved a very pimpy stereotype. Oh well, what the hell, I have so much to do and have to go. Hey I know, it's around three oclock on a Monday, I'm not stressed out enough, I'll turn on Oprah, the spiritual equivalent of Martha Stewart. I'm gonna make Beau watch it.
What would my life be without my Scott. I have to remember to say thank you to the universe more often for him.
Beau just came in, he found a cute little green worm or caterpillar in the yard and is giving it grass to eat. Don't worry we'll take good care of it.
Ha someone has the name benignobsession on ebay, I like that.
When you want what you want, more than you fear what you want, you will have it.
The best way to predict the future is to create it.
Wanna read my diary?
Then come see the diary of a real jerk
And there's always the art I made for my friend ana
Jacqui's Ana Art