June 19th, 2000


(no subject)

Hi Pals,

Isn't she pretty?

This was a stressful day. This is too much for me. I want to do the right thing and help people and be loving but it gets to be so hard sometimes.

It didn't feel like Father's day at all. Maybe because my father is almost gone. I called him and Rosa put him in the phone and he actually said a word or two. I wish I knew whether he makes sense of what he sees and hears. I mean I know he can't communicate very well at all. He seems to know what he wants to say and he starts to talk at the right moments but the poor thing, he just says everything all mixed up and then looks so sad. What a horrible thing to wind up with when you've been such a strong successful man all your life. I mean if he is conscious inside his self shell it must be torturous for him to have to wear diapers and be fed by a nurse. I just feel so sorry for him.

Father's day has always pretty much sucked for me. He was always so much older than me and didn't really want to spend time with me or do anything for father's day other than to spend it in front of the television watching sports. I used to feel so hurt.

Then Robby came along and I finally had what felt like Father's day and a sense of family because we would all go to the park and have a big family picnic every year. All of his fathers kids would come and they all accepted me as one of them so it was so nice to feel like I belonged to a big family. Robby was there and I loved him so much so I felt safe and his family seemed like they loved me.

Robby's father divorced his mother when he was in his late teens and then his father remarried his high school sweetheart and she turned out to be so much nicer than his creepy mother who I spent years trying to befriend and win over. But she always hated me and saw me as this threat to her closeness and CONTROL over her children. I only recently found out how much she had hated me all those years. I had thought of her as family, difficult, scary, but family. I cared about her, in fact I loved her and now all that is left is hurt and the memory of the feeling I always had when I was around her that I never understood was disdain for me.

It hurts to think through all of this and write it out. I can't believe that my old life is gone. I don't know when I will finally accept and make peace with this. It's just that father's day, more than any other holiday, more than Christmas even, brings home this reality. Now Bob and Diane have moved to Hemet and for the last few years of our marriage we would travel there to visit with everyone. It's odd that I feel loss over not being with those people anymore, when in reality I was always a bit afraid of them. it's just that all my life I have been yearning for family and I only ever really felt it when I was with my old friend Lorraine's family (I can't even begin to tell you how much pain I have going on around her) and then later with Robby's huge family. Now they're all gone and it really hurts.

I tried to get beau and Robby together for father's day but I bungled the whole thing. My good therapist would say that isn't fair to me but I think it's my fault somehow. Scott tried to help me see it differently this morning but it's so hard for me not to blame myself. I called Robby about three weeks ago and left a message on his machine asking him to call me about father's day and telling him my feelings about it. I had told him that beau did not want to go to Hemet and that I supported him in this and that I think father's day is not just for fathers but for children and their father's to be together and to celebrate fatherhood. I suggested he ask make certain his brother and sister find their own rides to Hemet and that he plan on seeing beau in the morning before he leaves or in the evening when he comes back. Of course he never called me back about this. Finally I called him again and asked him what he planned on doing. he asked me if Beau wanted to see him and I said yes. So he said that he would come pick him up at ten in the morning but I said that would be kind of early. Then Beau and Robby talked to each other and it was left at ten.

last night I reminded Beau that he had to go to bed early and should be ready by ten. I told Esther our hosuekeeper/pal/babysitter to help him get ready in the morning, she told Coco our other housekeeper who works for us during the week. So I thought ti was all covered but Beau told Coco he didn't want to go with his dad so she didn't wake him up in time. Since I sleep in, because as you know I stay up all night, something every therapist I've ever seen says is a major sign of depression *sigh*, I wasn't awake when Robby came by. Apparently he came by at ten, hopped the security fence and just showed up at the front door, (man, he's such a jerk, believe me, I mean it's just so typical of him to circumvent the security gate to let us know that no one keeps him out). When Coco answered she said he became really angry when she told him Beau was still sleeping and so was I. So rather than help her wake him up or ask her to get him ready or even to get me, he decided to flounce off in a huff and peel rubber down the street.

So when I woke up an hour later, before I had a chance to talk to Coco, I spoke with Beau and he was telling me that he didn't want to go with Robby for father's day. I told him he would have to because he couldn't just stand him up at the last minute and hurt him like that. I was trying to model decency for him. So Beau said that since it was eleven and Robby hadn't come by maybe he wouldn't and couldn't I just leave it at that and I said no that I would have to call him. So I called and left a message asking him why he hadn't come by. Then when I learned what happened I called and told his machine that I was really sorry things hadn't worked out. So now I know that he probably went around telling everyone what a poor helpless little father's day victim he was. This form the man who doesn't see his son more than once or twice a month at the most and doesn't help in any way, financially, emotionally, physically, not in any way. Sometimes there are days when I'd like to take Beau and drop him off at Robby's mother's house, where he stays and say, "Here you take care of your son for a week and I'll be the Dad who just comes by when it's convenient, in between fencing tournaments and strip club and bar visits." Of course I would never to that to my Beau but I just get so worn out sometimes, and to be so misunderstood, to try so hard to facilitate a safe relationship between them and to have the opposite attributed to me, well it just isn't fair and it hurts.

So that's why it didn't feel like father's day.

I had so much more I wanted to write but I'm just too tired. I'm pissed off at a lot of people. Pissed because I am just so fucking sick of being hurt, sick of being used and manipulated and taken advantage of and hurt and hurt and hurt. I am just so tired of getting trounced. So tired of being naive and trusting and letting people hurt me and then feeling like it was my own damned fault for trusting them. I feel like Hugo's, (Esther's husband) favorite shirt, that time he got drunk and passed out, and she was so hurt and enraged that she threw it down on the kitchen floor, poured food, drinks and condiments on it and then did a sort of Mexican Jig over it. When he woke up in the morning with an amazingly, painful hangover, and asked what the hell had happened to his shirt she said, "Pues tu bailaste," (...then you danced on it). That's my analogy for me tonight, I'm the shirt who gets danced on and then I'm the man who gets blamed and feels badly for it.

Love you guys,

(no subject)

I just learned that Nancy Marchand died. She was such a wonderful actress. Did any of you guys see her earlier work or even just recently prior to The Sopranos in Sabrina. I just wanted to pay tribute by posting her film credits and awards.

Good bye Nancy : )

Jefferson in Paris (1995)
Sabrina (1995)
Regarding Henry (1991)
Sparkling Cyanide (1983)
Killjoy (1981)
Willa (1979)
Soldier's Home (1977)
The Hospital (1971)
Me, Natalie (1969)
Ladybug, Ladybug (1963)
Marty (1953)
Little Women

Here she is with Maureen O'Sullivan at the Drama Desk awards

1960: OBIE: Distinguished Performance (Actress), The Balcony
1978: Emmy: Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series, Lou Grant
1980: Emmy: Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series, Lou Grant
1980: Drama Desk Award: Outstanding Ensemble Performance, Mornings at Seven
1981: Outer Critics Circle Award: Best Actress in a Play, Morning's at Seven
1981: Emmy: Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series, Lou Grant
1982: Emmy: Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series, Lou Grant
1989: OBIE: Distinguished Performance (Actress), The Cocktail Hour
1999: Golden Globe: Best Supporting Actress (Series, Miniseries, TV Movie), The Sopranos
1999: Screen Actors Guild: Ensemble in a Television Drama Series, The Sopranos; shared with cast mates

(no subject)

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.

love y'all,

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?
Jacqui's livejournal
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