November 8th, 2000

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I had to share this with you, even though Halloween has passed. These are the kinds of Halloween cards I love. I collect Winsch and Schmucker and Brundage and a few others. I just love the graphics.

I still feel kind of woozy and strange. My teeth are still waiting to be dealt with. I've been to the new dentist twice but both times it was just to be examined and given antibiotics until the infection calms down. I'm really dizzy and can't tell if this is because of antibiotics or if I have another ear infection. My ears have always been a bit babyish and needed careful watching. I used to get headaches if they got water in them at the beach and then any kind of wind came up. I really blew it though when I got my advanced certification in Hawaii a year ago, I just did too many dives and the pressure got to my poor little ears and they've been messed up ever since. I'm so worried now that when I take a shower or a bath I have to put drops in my ears afterwards to make sure I don't get an infection. Doesn't that just suck? Are you sick of listening to a list of physical complaints.

I still have to tell you my Hugo demon story and ask you about farting but maybe that should be in two separate posts, hmmm. What I want to comment on now is how sickened I was when I went by Ana's cam lately and saw that horrible thread of mean things people had said on jennicam and somewhere else. She put it up in her most recent anagram and it was just horrifying. People are such assholes! I thought I had read most of that thread and commented on some of it, taking her side, cause she's my little cyber-pal, but man, I never read some of the stuff she has up now. What the hell is wrong with people? It's just so mean. I guess people just don't realize they're talking about a real person with real feelings. It's like they're talking about her in the abstract and just don't give a shit how what they say will affect her. I'll say it again, it's just so mean.

I also took exception to the reference Mr. Warped Net made, I think it was him, that ana's pals are all plastic people. Hunh? Plastic people? Why? You know I've been a member of her cam for about three years now and I've seen how upset she gets when people are cruel or shitty and I've never had a problem with her. We've disagreed about stuff and I've never been banned or kicked. I've never been mean or selfishly provocative though, and I think those are the people, who wanted her attention and couldn't get it any other way, who are pissed off. I don't know, I just was so hurt and offended by so many of the comments. People are obviously very immature, selfish and stupid on a lot of these boards, and very, very mean and cruel. Fuck them!!!!

My Burning Man article came down before I had a chance to tell anyone about it. What a big procrastinator I am, sheesh. I went to the magazine to see if it was up and they are into the November issue now and their archives aren't updated yet. God it as great to be paid for my writing though.

My mother bought another house in Palm Springs and is going to sell the one we always went to on vacations. The new one is much nicer, well, at least I hope so. She says it is. Change is hard for me but I'm working really hard to embrace and accept it.

Beau's father hasn't made much of an effort to see him since May 11th, Beau's birthday, and even then he just squeezed in a few minutes. He dropped by on his way to a fencing competition, left his friends waiting in the car while he ran in to give him a gift. I'm surprised he did that much. He's such a jerk. To think that all those years we were together I thought deep down that there was something undesirable about me, some fault of mine that caused his lack of love for me, his selfishness and immaturity. Now he does the same thing to his son. It kills me.

I left a message on his machine last night asking him for the third time to please make a list of the things he thinks I might still have here, that he somehow thinks he is entitled to half of. I reminded him that our family therapist, who in six years he only managed to go see once, advised him to make himself consistently and lovingly available to his son. He agreed to this, but since then hasn't made the slightest effort to be with him, and yet I continue to seek reasons to blame myself. Well, no longer. I told him, "Get in or get out, and if we don't hear from you we'll know what that means." I just feel so sorry for Beau who is so hurt and needs a dad so badly.

I finished the Peter Gether's book, The Cat Who Went To Paris. I miss it, it was such a good book. I went out right away looking for other books by him and came away with a baseball book he wrote years ago. Sadly though, he makes easy targets of people who are fat, obviously he's got some kind of beauty hang up, and has a shallow sense of respect for female beauty, blech. I was liking him so much because of his love and empathy for his cat. Oh well, I guess men who hang out with Roman Polansky, writing screenplays based on The Master and Margarita are bound to be a bit twisted anyway.

...and of course the election is driving me mad with anxiety. I met some nice people in #analove last night and that helped a bit.

All I want to do is sleep.

Chat back at you later,
jacqui
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Oooh look at this one, yum, yum, must have : )

Okay so I promised Esther's demon story. For those of you who don't keep up, Esther is my weekend illegal alien assistant pal. She's from Guanajuato Mexico. She has two kids. Eduardo by her first partner who never married her, and wouldn't be there for her in any way, and Andrea by her very delicate, occasionally abusive, alcoholic, current partner Hugo. Eduardo is thirteen and a really great kid, as far as naughty teens go, and Andrea is a sweet but
spoiled, vain, demanding, and tantrumy five year old. I really love both of them. Hugo I could do without, he lost my respect and support when he drove drunk backwards, down a busy street, speeding and careening, whirling around and ending up passing out in his truck on my front lawn. I've tried to get him into AA but he's too Latin macho and messed up.

In a way I can sort of see why she stays with him. He's good looking and charming in the same way my ex-pig of a husband was. I try not to compare him to animals because I think it's unfair to the animals but every once in a while it just comes out that way. So anyway Hugo is her thin, somewhat good looking, sometimes funny, but generally fucked up and way too selfish and inconsiderate mate. Sunday, Esther was over here helping to strike all of the Halloween yard decorations and Hugo was home with Andrea who wasn't feeling well. When he woke up in the morning he thought he should go get her medicine for her but just as he tried to sit up he felt this tremendous presence, a heavy weight, sitting on his chest and holding him to the bed. He tried to struggle free of it. It felt malevolent to him and he was terrified. He struggled and struggled and finally broke free of it's embrace.

He got up from the bed, sweating and terrified, and made his way shaking, to the kitchen. He worried that a demon had come to get him. It could be the family curse. His grandfather and all of his male heirs had been cursed when he had abandoned his young witchcraft practicing mistress to return to his wife. Or it could be our ex-housekeeper Coco, and her sister, who blame Esther for her firing, and have promised to get even with their Santorian black magic. Whatever the case, he felt that something had definitely happened to him, it was too real to have been a dream.

He got Andrea's medicine and went back to the bedroom and was about to enter when the invisible demon grabbed him once again. It engulfed him and began squeezing and choking him. He started crying and shaking and sweating. He started to cry out for help, "Eduardo, Eduardo alluda me!!" (Eduardo help me!) Eduardo who had been sleeping on the couch woke up to hear Hugo screaming his name and ran to him. he grabbed him and they toppled over. At that very moment something started pounding heavily, insistently, on the front door, and then moments after that on the windows of their house, but when Eduardo ran to look outside there was nothing there. When he opened the door all he could see or hear was a howling upset dog. And there you have it, Hugo's demon story.

Of course I'm thinking DT's, but I do remember hearing stories about people who are held down in their beds by some unseen force, and there's the whole thing about walk in spirits taking over the bodies of people who are weakened or who don't inhabit their bodies strongly. Eduardo and Esther are convinced it's something real. They took Hugo to church. They brought holy water home and blessed the house, but Hugo is still a wreck and won't be left alone anywhere for any reason.

The end of another weird little story.

What do you think? Has anything weird ever happened to you. I saw a bouncing ball light on the 405 Freeway but that's another story.

Jacqui
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This is my favorite postcard of all. I bought it years ago for eighty dollars. I just had to have it, and that was so much money for me. I was embarassed to spend that on a card, but now I see them as little tiny works of art. It goes for two hundred and fifty now. I wish I'd bought more of them. I just love the little goblins. The artist is Schmucker and he made cards for Winsch who was the publisher. Okay, well I'm off to pick up my little guy from tutoring.

Just because I don't talk about my old friend Lorraine and my heartless and cold birth mother and sister, doesn't mean I'm not still hurting. I just thought I'd throw that in there in case any of them ever deign to read my journal. How do you get over hurt? How do you put people away from you. I've tried writing. I've tried visualization. I've tried putting white light around them and wishing them every happiness. But that doesn't stop the pain when I drive anywhere near her apartment and think that she has a little girl who I can't meet. It doesn't take away the burning hurt of the woman who gave birth to me, telling me that I am, "the product of a rape,"or of never having been loved warmly and unconditionally by a mother or having met my brother and sisters.

Me.