Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,

Oh nooo, I just checked my messages and my poor neighbor Tony called. She's so nice. She's the neighborhood pet coordinator and is always helping everyone rescue their pets. She's been putting up signs for two whole weeks everywhere looking for her favorite cat Peanut. She even called a pet psychic who told her she thought he was dead and that it had something to do with a big park nearby. It didn't make sense to her at the time but then yesterday she decided to go by this huge park where they have rehabilitation therapy for veterans and part of the therapy involves fruit and vegetable gardening and when she went there they told her they had found her cat two weeks ago and that it had been mostly eaten by a coyote. Poor thing : ( I just called her and she picked up the phone because she had gone back by to find the spot where he dies so she cut lay some flowers there and say good-bye but then when she talked to the vet who had found him he described him as having had a rhinestone collar and Peanut didn't. So now she is going back to take an identical collar to see if it's the same. I feel so sorry for her. I've been there. I'm still trying to forgive my jerk ex for having tossed my beloved Rudy cat out the front door at night because he had sprayed something. We know not to put them out at night ever because of the coyotes. Of course Robby big swaggering dolt that he is thought nothing would happen and in the morning there was Rudy in pieces on the neighbors lawn. I forgave the coyotes but I can't forgive Robby and I know that I need to or there will forever be a piece of my soul attached to this moment in time, and dragging me back.

I wish there were some special person out there who would pay me to just do what I do on the computer everyday. I would be so happy to just sit here and make art and keep learning how to work programs. Then I could be their little design slave doggy girl. I know you guys think I have money because I talk about my babysitter/housekeeper/assistant pals but the truth is I live so hand to mouth and am always juggling and playing catch up with the bills. My jewelry and my silver are in the pawn shop because I needed the money to pay for a pet surgery last year. Now I'm just brazenly charging things to Mom, but I certainly couldn't ask her to help bail me out, it always has to be a little game. It's just that my wacky mother pays for things that she deems necessary but not things I might really need or even things I want. It kind of goes like this, "Mom I need money to rent a motor home so we'll have shelter from the sun and alkali storms in Burning Man this year." Then she says, "Absolutely not, I won't have you parading around naked with a bunch of savages in front of my grandson. besides I haven't a dime. Now let's talk about what kind of suit I'm going to buy you for my luncheon and I would like to take you to Hawaii with me on the fourteenth. Oh look my fifty boxes of shoes have arrived." I'm sure I must sound so stupid and spoiled to you guys when I talk about this kind of stuff. I just want to be able to have enough money to not have to worry about and play games with the bills every month. Like today for example, I had to call GTE and give them my mother's credit card because she won't pay for it directly but she will pay for it if I do it this way. I try to justify all of this insanity by thinking of it as a job, a very stressful job with energy-sapping, life-taxing, consequences, and we all have those. Then again my soul's mission this time around might be to learn how to be independent and stand on my own. Wouldn't that be nice?

If I had a good chunk of extra money right now, and I'm not talking about a lottery sized amount, I'd hire the best recording engineers and the best studio and the best graphic designer and get help distributing and helping my Scott record and release his CD. I mean it makes me sick that he is so unbelievably talented, he is the best songwriter and has the sexiest, sweetest, richest voice, and no one is hearing any of this right now.

When he performs live, people swoon, but he doesn't see this because he is too sad that his band broke up, and he is exhausted from having to be a total wage slave worker bee for a mean selfish law firm. Oh if I could just go in there one day like Rambina, with huge guns strapped to my chest and knives on my calves, and bust him out of there in a hail of bullets. (Ha ha I can just see those poor FBI-CIA-Grey-People-cyber-text-editors scratching their heads and jotting down notes about some probable future disaster, as I sit here in my too short tee-shirt and try to release the mounting tension in my neck.

I made some little pics for beachdog. I don't know if he'll want to use them but it was fun to do and I love doing nice things for people I hardly know. It's such a loving good karma boost, plus it was a blast. I remember the first time I came to Livejournal, thank you ana, I read about Mooty or shoot I'm so sorry, someone kind, making pics for friends here and I thought, wow I wish someone would make me a pic. Now I know how and am making them for other people, weeeeee, progress feels good, it really does.

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