May 3rd, 2004

Chalkboard

Kitty Bartholomew, Appearance on HGTV's Country Style, Please Pray/Visualize For Us?

Things Are Picking Up, Mom and Rosa Drama, The Stupid Earthquake Movie, Kitty Bartholomew, The Missing Possum, Neon, My Upcoming Appearance on HGTV's Country Style, Hoping to Get My Rent for the Month, Please Pray/Visualize For Us?



Hi Everybody,

Things have been pretty good, maybe we're on an upswing here, wouldn't that be great? I've said this before, that I think life is like this, good and bad times, easy and hard, coming and going like the ocean tides. Then again it might just be that I'm bipolar and this is just the result of my chemical cycling, I hope not.

My therapist suggested I just give myself a week off from all of the stress -- just tell everyone that I'm off this week, and not to expect me to take care of anyone or anything, not to add anything to my always overflowing plate. I wish I could do something like this -- just give up all of my responsibilities and take off, but I can't.

I can't do it practically, because everyone here depends on me, and I can't even do it in my mind because I am so driven, despite the fact that I don't act on this drive, or if I do I do it at this torturously slow pace that makes it seem to me as if I'm not ever getting anything real done, not ticking off any of the really big important goals. Years go by, years and years, and I'm still struggling with the same damned stuff; I need to lose weight, go to the gym at least three times a week, exercise, walk, drink more water, eat better, fix my teeth, pay my bills, get out of debt, clean up my house, especially Beau's room and the garage and yard, go through the books in the library and let go of some, find homes for some of my pets, sell things on eBay and fix up my space in the mall, order yarn and get going on starting some projects for next fall, save money for our trip across the country so I can buy more things to sell, plan our trip to Burning Man this year, figure out what to do about my needing cosmetic surgeries now that it seems pretty clear that the Sharon Osbourne Show isn't going to come through for me, oh and plan something surprising and wonderful for Beau's birthday on the eleventh, and remember to tell everyone that I'm going to be on HGTV this month and next, then I need to take new headshots, spruce up my resume, find an agent, go out on auditions, take classes again, especially comedy and improv, work up a one woman show and a stand up routine, have two songs and two monologues ready to go at a moment's notice so that I can be available to the adage that success is just preparation meeting opportunity and on and on and on... How do I let all of that go for a week and just let myself be, and why should I do that when I feel as if I'm always falling behind and time is getting away from me? My hair is greying and my vision is failing and age has crept up on me and snatched me away from my youth like a highway man.

I'm well aware that I choose to live like this, to be this overwhelmed earth mommy, and beyond Beau, Scott, my Mom, Esther and her family, and Ana, all of these little animal people depend on me, literally, for their lives. I do enjoy this. I love taking care of my animal friends, it's loving, healing, and so fulfilling, it makes my happy, but every once in a while, when there have been a few too many emotionally upending and jarring dramas, like the loss of Irma and her family, adapting to a new person who turns out to be part of a scam to defraud me of ten thousand dollars by making me think all of my animals will be seized and killed, dealing with financial woes and challenges, the loss of two dear cat friends, health challenges for both Beau and myself, and the never ending threat of Rosa circling ever closer to my Mother, it all gets to be too much for me in every way imaginable and I just want to run far away or bury myself in familiar escapist activities.



I sort of had a bit of a break through though. I stood up to Rosa via Mom by telling them that I wasn't going to go work over there early last Friday and deferred it until tomorrow when it would be more convenient for me. This definitely pissed off Rosa. She's always trying to get money out of Mom for her son so she fluffs up all of these little make work projects for him to do around Mom's house, things that aren't top priority, and that I wanted to defer until after we'd completed some higher priority things here, like finishing the upstairs bathroom. But Rosa has access to my forgetful Mother 24/7 and is able to manipulate her into doing pretty much whatever she wants her to do. Which is why I got a call Wednesday night telling me that I was expected to drop whatever plans I had and show up at Mom's on Friday morning so I could sort through the basement with Rosa and her son. It didn't matter that I had a dentist appointment and was in pain, Rosa wanted her son to earn money, and she needed me to be there in order for him to be able to move all of my furniture and stuff that I store there, so she pressured Mom to do this Friday and Mom just went along with it.

My Mother doesn't have any impulse control and like a spoiled little child when she's convinced that she wants something, she wants it now or else. It's taken me years to understand this, and understanding it makes it so much easier to take. Anyway, with the support of my therapy group behind me I was able to call Mom in the desert and get her to admit that it was Rosa who had been pushing for Friday and that we could just as easily do all of this Monday. Rosa, cornered, had to put on her false sweetness mask and all poisonous sugar and light said, "Oh si, si, si senora, no problema! If Jacqui wants to do it Monday, that's fine. Whatever YOU want." But I knew she was pissed and I felt triumphant in having been able to stand up for myself over this very small thing that any other adult in my position would have been able to deal with in a snap. Or maybe not, maybe anyone in my position would act the way I do. Maybe it's a walk in my moccasins kind of thing.

Scott just left, or well, about an hour ago. Despite being super tired, and a little oversensitive/grumpy, he was a good and loving boyfriend and reluctantly agreed to watch the stupid earthquake movie, 10.5. It was so bad and I was so disappointed. I kind of knew going in that with the sort of budget a network television movie would get to produce something like this that it wouldn't be very realistic, but I wasn't expecting the bad direction, writing, photography and ridiculous things like a fault line chasing a train. I'll go ahead and watch part two tomorrow but like I said I was really disappointed; I had expected to be carried away and enjoy a scary little television thrill ride and instead I found myself not being able to focus on it at all, and drifting in and out of the room to feed possums and cats.

I'm watching Frontier House now. I love these past life recreation semi-reality shows. I especially like that this one has African Americans in it. Oprah is going to be on the show on May 15, how cool is that? I couldn't ask for a better surprise or more of an insensitive to watch the show, although that might be the night when my HGTV Country Style show airs. I have to get that paper the producers sent me that lists the air dates and times, my typing fingers, and this laptop all in the same place at the same time, so I can give you the actual dates in case you might want to watch it. I know that the segments are titled, A Country Kitchen, and Dining With Collectibles.

I pitched the idea of their doing a shoot at my friend Susan's very cool unmobile home like mobile home and they went for it and shot it. I'll have to ask her when that one will air as well, and let you know about that one too if you're interested. I imagine Mary will be : )

Did I tell you I went over to Kitty Bartholomew's house again the other day? We had tea and looked at books and magazines and talked about upcoming shoots and projects. I'm going to help her style the shots for her upcoming knitting book and I'll help with her daughter's wedding which is going to be at Trump's golf course in Laguna that he mentioned on The Apprentice, and then whatever else comes up. She was super sweet and grateful and gave me armfuls of fresh lettuce and sweet peas from her garden. She's sad because HGTV pulled her show. Jerks.

Oh darn there's this little documentary piece about Los Angeles and neon on right now. I wish I had a blank tape to pop in for Duane. He makes neon. I loooove neon! I dabbled in it for a little while, took a couple of classes and got involved with the Museum of Neon Art. I have some old movie marquee glass and transformers in my garage.

I've been comforting myself over the loss of my beloved, toothy, cross-eyed, black oriental short hair feline friend Sparkle by holding and petting his babies. It occurred to me that each of his children have a little bit of him in them, a spark of him if you will, and that if I love them harder I am loving him through them. When I pick them up and hold them, even if they get squirmy and wriggle away from me, I imagine I've been holding a piece of my baby Sparkle and it helps a little with the loss of him.

We're still missing our third possum. I hope she/he's okay. I've put food all over my little dressing room, up and down the shelves, and on the floor but it seems untouched. I worry about her, where she is, how we could have missed her when we tore the place apart. I keep hoping she'll show up like the Siberian Hamster that I gave to Gilan, the one who got out of his cage and disappeared for almost a full week. Poor thing, we don't know how he went all those days without food and water. We know he ate paper because he nibbled away all of the edges of Aryamen's sheet music. When they found him and put him back in his cage his sister didn't want him any more because she had had six little pink babies. I had to go out and spend the last little remaining bit of credit on one of my credit cards buying another cage and supplies for the male hamster so we can separate them, otherwise one or the other might eat the babies, sigh.

Please say a prayer for me, (seriously)? that my tenant, Art, will deposit all of the money, (several thousand dollars), that he owes me tomorrow. Will you visualize this for me, please, please, please??? I really believe doing this helps and if you ask I'll visualize anything you need in return. I need it, we need it, so badly.

Okay well, that's more than enough rambling on to ask anyone to read for one night. Mostly I do this for myself, as a way of documenting my life so I can study it and remember and look back on it at some point in the future. The fact that Live Journal is interactive and that there are people out there who would want to read this is just this enormous bonus.

Love you guys, sleep sweetly,
Your friend -- Jacqui
XOXOXOXO

PS: Will someone please send me some red Swedish Fish candies? But could you put them through some sort of wormhole or time machine so I could eat them right now?

Jacqui Hyland
11718 Barrington Place
Los Angeles, CA 90049

PPS: Not to alienate any of my female friends but I've been picking up a lot of anti-male bias around me lately and it pisses me off. I love men, I really do. Not to take anything away from my lesbian sisters, I know that when it comes to sexuality it's just a normal and natural thing, preference is, but I love both sexes equally, and while I support our (women's) continuing struggle for true equal rights, I'm also acutely aware of how men are struggling to find their place in this changing world. It doesn't help that I'm listening to Art Bell tonight and this very man-hating woman just called in and read this diatribe against men, tsk, tsk.

Anyone older around here remember a very corny TV movie with John Saxon, (I used to think he was so hot), where he and his friends get stranded on an alien planet where women rule and men are just used as sex slaves? At thirteen I thought that movie was so hot and used it for years as fodder for my night time fantasies. I think I just liked the idea of having John Saxon as my personal "breeder"/love slave.

Will someone please hurry up with those Swedish Fish before I eat any more cheese?

Chalkboard

A Dream With Daryl Hannah and The Doors



I remember my dreams so vividly sometimes -- the best is when someone wakes me up while I'm deep asleep and still dreaming, then I can recall every detail as if I was just there in that other reality. When I'm well rested my dreams are malleable, I'm aware at a distance that what is happening is a dream and with some effort I can control them from within. When I'm tired, like I was last night (and still am this morning) they feel more real to me.

I'm in a kind of LA version of the Chelsea Hotel. It's famous but not upscale, kind of like a more run down funkier version of the Chateau Marmont. I've been sharing a room with Daryl Hannah and another person, the other person switches between a guy and an old friend of mine from high school, Corey Hubbell.

I'm packing, hurrying because my Mom and Beau are going to be here any minute and will expect me to be ready. Whatever isn't packed by then will have to be left behind. I'm kind of panicked about this as usual.

Meanwhile Daryl is asking for advice about her hair. She wants to color it and asks me what drug store brand colorant she should buy. Surprised that someone as wealthy and famous as she must be is so uneducated about hair coloring I say, "Daryl, your hair is so pretty the way it is. You're worth a fortune as an actress and part of your appeal is your gorgeous, long, blonde hair. You're probably just a heartbeat away from the movie that will turn your whole career around and make you a multimillion dollar a picture actress, don't mess this up by ruining your hair. You have to be really careful. Home coloring is a tricky thing at best and for blondes it's the worst. The chemicals are really harsh on the hair, they can strip it and make it really dry, and with blonde you can end up with a bad orange shade. You're so much better off going to a salon."

While we're talking I'm packing. I'm almost done which is a huge relief so there are mostly just these weird old mementos of some former tenant to sort through. There's an old A line bra/girdle thing and some dresses. Daryl and I take turns trying them on. There's one that I want that she tries on after I take it off and I'm hoping she won't want it.
She's worrying about this upcoming semi-blind date that she has. "Some friends of mine set me up on this date with my boss. It's kind of a three part thing so I need three different outfits and I just don't have the money to buy new things. At home I just mostly wear shorts and tee-shirts so I have to figure something out." While she looks at the old ripped up bra girdle thing I pick up this old envelope with unused tickets inside a card. They're tickets to a Doors concert, how cool.

The rooms are really small and the walls are thin. The guy in the next room cranks up his guitar and starts playing some reggae/rock that I really like but my room mates don't and are bothered by the volume. A few minutes later a young guy and his girlfriend come to our open door and are looking for someone. Suddenly the electric guitar stops and this tough looking hard living British looking rocker guy comes out of the room next door and says, "Hey, I think you want me man."


Well, that's about it. I'm tired and hot and bleary eyed but I have to go to my Mother's to deal with a mix of her old crap and my old crap and greedy self serving Rosa who always has her beady eyes on the prize. We'll be deciding what to keep and what to throw away with Rosa carefully examining everything with an eye for it's resale value. Even if I do give her something, which I always do and probably will today, she's never grateful, never says thank you, not even to my Mom. I so don't want to move my things from storage over to my Mother's house because it doesn't feel safe there for a whole stolen truckload of reasons, chief among them is the fact that Rosa lives there. Okay, big sigh, here I go.

I hope you guys are having a happier day than I am.

Hugs,
Jac