Boom, boom, boom, my head tonight. Boom, boom, boom, boom. Boom, boom, boom. I want to unscrew it and release some pressure. Boom, boom, boom. Feverish. And, dread as I start toward that building. It fills me with dread.
It is startling to me that what seems obvious is not clearly understood by all parties and persons. If it is they are allowing misconceptions to continue when they know it is not the truth.
Upstairs Downstairs heathered green door versus orangish copycat. Also, in that kitchen the view is of the water rather than the traffic. There isn’t any reason it shouldn’t have been Upstairs Downstairs. There isn’t any reason I shouldn’t have my Thursday and Tuesday. I felt like it was a plot to destroy my affection for Thursday to get rid of him. It was either both or none. They and I should never have been placed in such a way.
Is this true? Was it at Rio Bravo? I think it is called Tres Amigos now. My brother and I had been looking at new townhomes, places to stay pending the sale of our home when we stopped for dinner. We had looked at a unit in Phase 1 here that had water damage on the roof very similar to water damage I had in my room in PC. It was a better unit than this, more spacious, an actual laundry room and not a laundry closet. There was no electricity on in the unit.
When Creggan and I stopped for dinner, Rachel phoned that she would meet us there too. She showed up after we had eaten with ice cream from Cold Stone creamery. I remember excusing her odd behavior.
I’ve been wondering if my brother really had a choice to teach between University of Alabama and San Diego State. He should have gone to California. He would still be teaching. This is a puzzle piece too, graduation is about my brother’s graduation from USF. A friend my brother had at USF. It has nothing to do with me graduating from an affair or dating experience.
My brother doesn’t like every person. My brother has a slow-thought process in comparison to me. As soon as my brother moved back home he took off for hours and hours. This was Christmas Eve or nearabout. Hours he was gone. It was unusual. When I asked him about the time when he got home, his response was odd. I had to let it go because I needed his help. I let a lot go because I needed help.
So, our neighbor Rob did a lot of talking. I always felt he was a go-between. Especially when he told me I was getting skinny – early 2012.
At the restaurant my brother kept asking me questions where I couldn’t hear him. It was maddening. But, I needed his help, so I didn’t get upset or yell or anything, I let it go.
I believe this is where I was assessed.
I remember trying to imagine my life in that unit with the electricity turned off. As I tried in all the places we viewed. I didn’t want the upkeep anymore of the half an acre we had in PC, yet when I looked at all these places great dissatisfaction took to my mind. None of them had any outdoor living. None. This balcony here is not outdoor living. There is no place to grow a single plant or anything, or sit.
I told myself I would be so busy with my new life I wouldn’t miss it. But, that is neither true nor the case.
Crying at work tonight because there isn’t any reason I couldn’t have met a real man once I moved here. Every man I’ve met has been married or gay. Every man. It pushed me into dating and sleeping with a man I didn’t want to. But, there isn’t any reason I haven’t been able to meet a real man of my standards in all these years.
Before I forget, this storyline of a black woman and a Latina are both versions of me. They are the same. There is no choosing.
I miss my mother. Remembering how problems started at her nursing home I had to let go of because I couldn’t get upset over what I couldn’t control or take care of anymore. I am ashamed of people who have used her.
BTW, the lavender eyes in Sims4 only looks like “Erin” because of a survey question I answered and none other. Don’t get it wrong.
Showing off a little with some hair dye. I saw all I need to see. He’s good. Yeah, he looks innocent, however I saw him with a gun very well and lethal so…A long-term goal you have planned for him. This man doesn’t work for Amazon or he would look like me – homeless.
The other good looking one – a photo, is it also a few years old? I see a wealthy family. I see trouble. Or am I wrong?
Does everyone know all the full details wanting to see if I guess correctly?
If it was me I wouldn’t be sharing everything I write with the world.
Yeah, yeah, I am working on starting an outline for the WTC. It’s a big story for me, so it will take some time. And, my head is boom, boom, boom.
Who is it that benefits from the stories here and the stories there?
Why is it…I feel I am being patronized, placated, and flattered for no reason. I said so while working tonight. Because it seems obvious to me, so why flatter me to burn my face off and add bulk to my laundry soap, etc. etc.
I don’t know why we were going so far back to my Dillard’s manager 1992 or 1993? God, he was good-looking. 6’3” blonde hair, green eyes, he had been a quarterback in high school if not college. He had jock all over him. Fairly to-do family which is how he got the job because as it turns out he spoke to me when he first started working it was only a few sentences if that when I understood he was homophobic, racist, and not that bright. Yuck! Not attractive anymore. Am I dumb?! Couldn’t I just overlook those…well, what I saw in him. Nope. I wonder if I would be happier than I am now if I did and could. So disappointing. Unfortunately, I was right it was true. Lacking in character, and on and on. Looks, but no substance. Boring. Pass.
________________________________________________________________________________
Tell me you’ll take me on that trip, that one we’ve talked about to Thailand, Vietnam, or Asia – anywhere. Somewhere where we’ll go walking one night or is it late afternoon that happens into night eating meat off of the same stick, stopping for a sticky sweet, walking, then another morsel or two. Where it is just you and I, you forget just for a few hours with me, and the world is a different place because we are in it together.
Tell me you’ll find and hire that pet sitter that will take care of my fuzzy babies, so I don’t have to worry all the time. You’ll place them in front of the camera to make sure they are who they say they are.
Tell me you’ll buy me those silk short pajama’s you want to see my skin in. Walking around a hotel room with you. Where the problems of the world fade away for just a few moments.
Tell me you’ll do it if only in my head.
___________________________________________________________________________________
To clarify – baby is not an actual baby, or pregnancy, or any such notion that has been played. Baby. Is adoption. I am not the baby. Because he messed up. I can almost see him. Surprised. Allowing softness to seep in, allowing for the possibility of something other than what has been his life. A future long and full. He messed up. Premature. He couldn’t go back. But, there could be the possibility of adopting a baby. That is not the same as carry a child to term which is no longer possible.
46 years old and the idea of adopting a baby…
Still no food writing. Soup is about all I want and can manage. Maybe some sourdough or rye Melba toast. Perhaps some crackers. That’s pretty bad.
Do you know they went out of their way to break my water and ice, A/C, electrical outlet, dryer, and so on because I was about to go through bankruptcy, and they wanted to immediately place me in debt to this house? To be in debt again. To this house. Not for something I want. But, to this house.
How I would love to go back to Asheville, NC for a week. Spending time in that great small town of Asheville. Going through the Biltmore again. However, I will not set off again with less than $100 for gas, food, and lodgings as I have been made to do in these last few years.
I know now that I was being listened to when I spoke of Anderson Cooper and him talking about the death of his father. How money became the number one conversation topic. My heart went out to him when I heard him because I saw him as a child and as an adult. Now, get over yourselves I don’t care never have it is not the same thing as sleeping with a man. I saw him.
Yeah, I know. La Haine is the reason for the French President’s visit to the White House. La Haine is a great film which is why I watched it in my home. I am way ahead of you.
You know, there is no way that I should have been given a citation for the first accident since I was in the correct lane. He hit me. He swerved to me.
Looking back in my mind my memories MUST have been altered, tampered and messed with. Because they do not match.
Upon impact I was in the correct lane. I was not in his lane. He hit me in my lane. If he hadn’t swerved into me, he would have hit me – if at all – at the rear. Then, I open my eyes, my car had to have spun around because I did not move my car, I couldn’t it was totaled, I am out of traffic, on the shoulder. His car had no damage whatsoever. How is it possible?
It is not just upsetting to be in an accident, I was unemployed at the time. Now, I am in debt when I was clear of car payments on the Corolla. I thought it was David Wolfe who sold me the car insurance on my Honda. He is a better actor than I thought. I said at a Christmas dinner, the man who sold me the insurance would have been a better match for Creggan than Roy. I never liked Roy. It had/has nothing to do with the color. He has never been genuine, so how could I want that for my brother.
Problem came into my mind a few days ago. I feel as though about a year and a half ago, I was given – during sleep – a mind trick about my teeth. There is a panic, a distrust, a worry, concern, I don’t know an exact word other than a heavy burden of not wanting to take care, clean and brush, and floss my teeth. Also, it goes along with personal hygiene, exercise, and a proper diet. So, someone around a year and half, or a little more ago someone did a terrible, terrible not just in my head, but also in managing and handling me. I can’t quite see it in my head. I feel it about in there. It is pretty pervasive. Hard enough I am not given proper soap, a constant soggy crotch still, then I have this like a mist in my head damaging circuitry I had worked so hard to place i.e. diet and exercise.
I am struggling still six years later to survive. Not just to live, but to survive. There isn’t any reason I shouldn’t be employed with greater pay.
This is a jumbling of so many conversations. By the way, please stop flattering me with men like that. I know what I look like anymore. I used to be pretty without trying. Remember a few years ago when I turned the television on standing in my kitchen in a negligée sans makeup hadn’t brushed my hair yet, and I was pretty enough to be on television. However, NOW I am not allowed and able to be properly clean. In part because I am now longer able to make my own decisions. Choose whatever products without any ad placements on any such nonsense.
The first car trip to the west coast should never have taken place as such. The manipulation during my sleep sent me driving to the west coast without all my money, passport, or my cats. I believed I would have been able to drive back and get them after I had found a new place to live and stay. But, that was never going to be possible. So, why bother? Just to get footage from my vehicle of me driving? I have all the camera’s covered because I am not able to do things like stop for a coffee, or drink water, chew gum, or eat anything in my car.
So, the Bluetooth, surveillance, my previous computer, and so on all knew I wanted to go to Vancouver again. I made sure my passport was current. I had Canadian money.
You stole my life from me by not allowing me to be able to make decisions on my own any more.
Nothing I wanted to do, I have been able to do.
On the car ride to the west coast was when this all started that I was no longer able to pay outside as I have always done before. I had to pay inside. It has caused me great unhappiness to say the least. It is not natural to me – is one way to put it. For so many reasons I prefer not to pay inside.
Also, I had a conversation with Joe at The Container Store about my family history as it was told to me by my mother. I guess I find it hard to believe, yet I have no reason to doubt it. I don’t believe my mother would make up a story. According to my mother my great-grandmother is from the House of Orange. If not full lineage, she is related to the House of Orange yet married a commoner because she loved him.
There were a lot of family conversations about heritage and my family tree. I remember in Carmangay with my mother at Pete and Connie’s home they were discussing the family lineage. At the time it was difficult upon hearing the names of people to place them, so I could order and organize them in my head. As I am a visual learner. It goes with the dyslexia. I have worked very hard to over-compensate for my auditory-dyslexia. It has been taken advantage of greatly in being able to move me about rather than listen to my logic.
So, I have a soggy crotch again because I parked next to a tree?! Are you fucking kidding me?! What gives anyone the right to do that?! That doesn’t make any sense to me. Here’s why, I protect myself by not stepping over the black outline stop. I protect myself over and over by not doing things.
You find ways to invade my house and make up excuses for your behavior.
At this point you can forget me writing about Barak Obama and Donald Trump. Along with a few other pieces.
I want another job.
I am no longer changing the tape machines. Forget it. Stop wasting my time.
I want another job.
I want another job.
Sweating to death for no reason this is going to be another week of the same.
I want another job.
I want another job.
No more writing about food.
I want another job.
I do not want to be FORCED to be around David Wolfe and family anymore!!!
I want a life of my own without ANY OF THEM!
My anger, frustration, disappointment, outrage, and hurt goes beyond just the Wolfe family. I’ve had it with all persons I’ve seen in these last six years!
I want another job!
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 