I've been my usual busy self -- lots of my typical drama that I don't have the energy to bore you with right now. I have to get up early because I've promised my friend Atra's Mommy that I would take her garage sale-ing tomorrow and we have to leave at six in order to make the trip worth it. I don't want to go but she's so sweet, like a little child in some ways, and I like making her happy.
I'll log back in with stories about my day working alongside Miss Kitty and everything else that's been going on as soon as I get a chance. She showed me how to make peanut butter fudge using, of all things, Velveeta cheese as the base. She's amazingly creative, a little ball of energy, such a good and loving mother, and surprisingly vulnerable at the same time. I helped take out her stitches because she didn't have the time to go to the doctor and I felt so maternal towards her, maternal and protective.
One of the things I admired most about Kitty was her commitment to nurturing her three children with a consistently loving and lovely home and home environment -- her keeping sweet traditions alive no matter what -- simple traditions that I find hard to keep like having a warm fire going in two fireplaces every single night and always eating dinner together as a family. I want this for Beau and Scott and me. Scott said to hold this in my heart and work towards it.
I guess I'm still in the running for the Sharon Osbourne Show's Extreme Makeover story idea. (I know that the show hasn't been renewed but they're going to be producing new shows through May.) The producer wrote back and thanked me for the latest and riskier, or should I say more risque, pictures that I sent her.
The big news is that I got the results back from all of my son Beau's educational testing and they are certain he has Attention Deficit Disorder, not too surprising considering I was diagnosed with it and we are so so similar in so many ways. He missed an important assignment that was due today and couldn't face going to school without it. I tried and tried to force him to go and in the end opted for sending him back to bed, (he'd been up all night working on it, long story), calling his principal, asking for a meeting, and taking him to his wonderful tutor Mrs. Copeland so we could help him finish all of his projects instead.
Some of his poetry is really good, or could be good with just a little bit of editing. He just needs to be exposed to more poetry and read more and then I think he'll be able to just spit it out like I can when I'm not numbed out on antidepressants. Seriously, you'd be amazed that a thirteen year old could write such deeply philosophical poetry, or maybe you wouldn't -- maybe I shouldn't. I was deeply aware and awake at thirteen, earlier actually, it's just that Beau is so young in so many ways. He's this little boy in this great big body so it surprises me when he shows up as an adult in unexpected ways.
Rosa, (my Mother's unbelievably difficult and overdramatic housekeeper), has been up to her usual self serving, trouble making, scheming self. This is the stuff I just can't go into detail about tonight. I'm so flipped out over all of this that I think she might even be reading my journal. She just really acted awfully towards the new housekeeper I found for Mom to take care of her on the weekends, then lied and twisted everything around and blamed it on me. She saw on opportunity to pile on me and went for it, crying big crocodile tears, pretending she was going to quit because, "I don't like her and pick on her," -- Rosa leaving her dream of taking my place in my Mother's heart, leaving her dream of somehow getting her hands on money, hah, fat chance of that. If only!
Luckily for me, and despite the fact that I disdain this about Mom and her friends, (and probably the reason why I am so very different in this area), my Mother has such an ingrained sense of superiority to anyone who works for her domestically, that no matter how hard Rosa may try to turn her against me and win my place in her heart, Mom will forever see her as less than, and will never leave her anything, which is kind of sad in a way.
I know for a fact that she would rather leave everything she has to some enormous charity than give it to someone who works for her but who desperately needs it. She's left it up to me to leave, "a little something" for Rosa, me, the one person Rosa has been working to turn my own Mother against for all of these years, and the very typical Jacqui part of this is that I will.
Oh God, big huge sigh, I really didn't mean to get into this. I worry that it's all just a big repeat of my last post -- boring and sad. I really just wanted to share this link with you, it's this fantasy dream home that this fortunate woman won from HGTV. I enjoyed wandering through the rooms and fantasizing about what it would be like to get away and live in a beautiful place like this with all that land and views of the water, so serene, comforting and welcoming.
I've been reading Joe Eszterhas' new book, Hollywood Animal, and even though I am a sucker for juicy industry gossip, it makes me sad -- his insider's take into Hollywood, the place I've spent my life, or wasted my life more like, dreaming of being a bigger part of. How can I yearn for a life working with these horrible debased people, in an industry that considers women useless over forty and fat over a size zero, when I'm both? Then I remember something a kind priest once told me when I had concerns before baptizing Beau, he said, "Would you rather abandon something that is basically good despite all it's faults, or embrace what is good about it and try to effect changes from within?" It made so much sense to me at the time as it applied to my relationship with my religion, the religion I was raised with, but that I had so many doubts about, and now I can apply this same thinking to just about anything, career, relationships, this city where men can make millions of dollars producing the crappiest of movies, this city, this city, this city...
Love you, goodnight,