July 26th, 2000

Chalkboard

(no subject)

Hi Everybody : )

Well, I'm plodding along here, well aware that it's summer and my restless soul is yearning to travel. But where will the money come from, and at what cost?

Taking pictures of my baby rat friends. They are so cute and soft and fuzzy. Little ratty balls of love. Is it rattie or ratty? What do you think?


The Blue Up? Spool Forka Dish (1995) Temporarily borrowed from my muse and pal, ana, at www.anacam.com. You'd better hurry on over there if you don't know what I'm talking about.

Oooh and here come some boxes from UPS. Woohoo four copies of my favorite ana music; Spool Forka Dish, mine all mine, I lost my original and have missed it so much, yeay, yeay, yeay. And an interactive DVD movie I was in, yeeee, I wonder what this is going to be like. You know being a UPS guy has got to be a good job, I mean who doesn't look forward to their coming up to the door with a package. I mean it's not like he's ever going to be delivering bad news, well let me think about that some more, hmmmm. Maybe a UPS guy carrying an urn with your favorite maiden aunt's ashes, isn't going to be something you would look forward to.

God I love this album! Can you explain to me why something this good didn't make more money, and isn't more well known? I can't even find a picture of the cover to tie in here for you to see. How many more wonderful artists are there out there who I missed by a fraction of a beat of time? Fucking record companies, yes I said that, Fucking Record Companies!!! Myman has the sweetest, sexiest most unbelievable voice and genius level songwriting talent and is still struggling to get heard. I love his music and so does everyone else who comes to hear him, but you won't unless you come to some small gig here in LA, doesn't that suck? I'll answer that for you, YES IT DOES!!!


I went to see the new Pokemon movie last night with Beau. It was so sweet, and the message of being brave, and doing your best for others is so good for kids. Also the Pokemon are always willing to give of themselves for the good of everyone, and that's pretty wonderful. Even Team Rocket turned out to be good guys.

I'm so glad he was still secretly eager to see it. I love Pokemon. I enjoyed helping him collect the cards. I liked looking at his fat book of cards, in their shiny laminate protective sleeves. What I didn't like was that his friends would steal them to resell them at a local store. Greedy little shits. I actually have more empathy than that, but right now I'm working on allowing myself to be angry.

Since my neighbors, the Barbers are out of town, yeay, I decided to let all the kitties have an afternoon out. So I opened my upstairs patio doors and they're all outside, sunning their fat little bellies.

I'm reading a new book about a woman's coming into her own in India, after the death of her beloved spouse. Of course I'm still inspired by books having to do with the loss of a spouse, and subsequent healing and enlightenment. This one's a true story; The Chasm Of Fire, A Woman's Experience of Liberation Through the Teachings Of a Sufi Master, by Irina Tweedie. The Tweedie part is what gets in my way when I tell you about it, because it reminds me of Mrs. Tweedie, the evil, chicken-pie-making, bitch from hell, in the movie Chicken Run.


Last night at around twelve thirty, I came home to a brightly lit house, and blasting loud Mexican Banda music. Blasting is not an exaggeration by any means. We're talking loud! Of course Coco blamed Beau by saying he was the one who had turned the stereo up in the morning, and then the cats must have turned on the music. Unhunh, yup, my ten year old, Britney Spears loving son, increased the volume level of the stereo to a deafening roar of Mexican music, then turned it off, only to have...the...cats, (are you getting how ridiculous this is?), turn it on again at midnight. Then Coco just happened to be up in her room, where the television prevented her from hearing music that was so loud, all of my neighbors could sing along with it.

Then this morning I wake up, go out to the landing, and look down to see Coco's feet disappearing into the library through a huge puddle of water. Turns out we had a nice little flood from the washing machine, because she had shoved in so many cat beds, and packed them so tightly, that the lid was forced open from the pressure of the water, that had no where else to go, or something like that. *Big Huge Sigh* What am I supposed to do? Why can't I ever find a housekeeper/babysitter/cat-caretaker/assistant-person who's up to the task? I know part of it is money, because I can't afford to pay what someone with an education and a car who speaks English would get.

Another part of the problem is my belief that I have to take on everyone's problems. So when we hire someone, even if they are unsuitable for the job, I enable them by keeping them on. In this case, part of me knows that if I kicked her out, she'd be fine. Her kids would go live with their aunt, who while she beats them, (in this family who doesn't?), would at least make sure that they don't hang out with gang members in the projects, and would get them to school. Then Coco could either get her act together and live with her kids, or wear her unbelievably tight spandex mini skirts, tube tops, high heels and glitter and screw all the young guys she likes.

I'm just so incredibly frustrated. I thought she was one kind of person, and it's turned out that she's really another. Not that I don't care about her, I really do, it's just that if she'd come to interview for us as she really is, I would never have hired her. "Hello my name is Coco, I like guns, and gang members, and skin tight clothing. I lie a lot, and say scary, threatening things like, "If my sister doesn't give me the money she owes me, I will kill one of her children." One time I almost stole a baby because I just felt like it, or maybe I'm just telling you this because it's interesting. I have three very needy children in Mexico, and after a few months of telling you horrible stories about how they are being mistreated and how much I miss them, I will get you to loan me the money to bring them over here, where they will live with you in this cramped house. They are very loud and unruly, they scream and cry, they steal and break things but will never admit to anything, and they will hit your son. But that's okay because if they upset you, I will hit them with a broom, or have my telephone-hogging teenage daughter do it for me. You will pay for their food, clothing, wildly expensive phone bills, and entertainment, and I will be a mediocre housekeeper, because I don't really know how to clean. But I will be okay with the cats. Oh and when you go out of town, I will leave the house empty, say I was here, but really be drinking myself into a stupor with my very dangerous friends, who will sometimes come by to visit. When can I start Senora?"

I'm now about to embark on a happy, pill swallowing adventure. Part of my daily morning ritual, the one that's supposed to make me young, thin, give me energy, and keep me pain, cold, flu and cancer free. Gulp, gulp, gulp : )

Love you guys,
Jacqui

Please don't forget me with your Mommy Dearest stories, I know they're out there, and I've got to hurry and write, write, write, before my Aries nature takes a dive on this project. Oh help me Deity.