September 10, 2019
The game was too elaborate, from Sherlock, means the Americans were playing me, working me, too simply, not elaborate enough. Still believing I was some average, simple, homely little girl, not capable enough to de-code, or plan military strategies. Not elaborate enough: knee.
The model in Germany without a coat when the weather had everyone else wearing a coat, is to be found in the book, novel, Wuthering Heights. Is everyone able to follow this? Do you see the connections, yet? The coat that Catherine’s father brings home Heathcliff, says, Santa Claus. Anyone? How this can possibly make sense? It says, Santa Claus.
The reason Catherine loves Heathcliff so much is because Emily Bronte wanted brothers. She loved men. It will take me nearly forever to classically read, Wuthering Heights; however, it is not really my favorite book. So, if you love Wuthering Heights, and Emily Bronte, stop reading, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Perhaps, people have been critical of this book before, I’ve not seen or read much other than its praise.
To me, the fact that so many characters die, and die quickly after their introduction to the reader, the audience, means the author was rather pre-occupied with death, unnaturally pre-occupied with death. Also, it shows a lack of ability to develop characters as real people. The only way to remove a problem is to kill them?
Also, the notion of Heathcliff being a gypsy, wanting to have fair hair and complexion speaks of the authors own dislike for her looks. Nothing really wrong with that other than people should accept themselves for who they are and not someone else.
As the reader, as the audience, we dispel the notion that Catherine and Heathcliff are actually misbehaving when they go off together. Running around in the moors, spending all day, all night, never leaving each other’s company, we as the readers, believe there is nothing wrong with this behavior. The other notion that they are running like savages, don’t pay any attention to the word dirty and dirt, think about the author’s words about running around like savages. Do you know what the author was really trying to talk about and why the book is still so relevant – contemporarily? It is really simple, it has to do with – no joke, pants. Anyone?
The author, she as a woman, as a young girl, as a young woman, wanted the freedom of being able to wear pants, and be free, not of the notions of femininity, but of, movement.
Couple that notion, that is ahead of its time, women wearing pants, with an attraction to a man, so strong, resilient, forgivable of faults, powerful of mind, body, spirit, heart, head, and the power of persuasion of speech in a woman over a man, a man she loves, will love, to the end of time, is the greatest appeal of Wuthering Heights, and why it is still so readable, today.
When my mother and I vacationed for my twenty-fifth birthday in Quebec, Canada, my mother and I stopped at a little truck stop that had a restaurant for lunch, potato soup and bread. Real potato soup, the kind that takes days to make, my mother liked the meal, it was fine to me, I was there to take the book of matches. She asked me when we were at the St. Lawrence River, if I wanted to stay at Le Chateau Frontenac, YES! YES, was my answer, I want that! Again.
If you get the connection, remember in history that the French Canadians and the Indians (Native American Indians) helped militarily in creating the United States of America that we have today.
After arriving at Le Chateau Frontenac, one restaurant we ate at, close to the (now) hotel is when I stopped eating meat. Not something anyone probably figured I would do, (Hearing Damaged, the song) when I read the word, Hare soup. It created an immediate picture in my head, and I was so upset, concerned, and not something I would do, eat – children, Hareton, from Wuthering Heights. Also, the Hare soup had another attachment to it, a death threat, from the movie, Fatal Attraction.
Artist’s Row is, or was, across the street from Le Chateau Frontenac, I chose my artwork rather quickly, my artwork, something I started collecting while on vacations instead of silly fad-y, trinkets like t-shirts, is not a gate, it is a bridge, it looks or resembles, a tower, or the tower of London, or the London bridge, in Victorian times. The man in the stall started telling me, after I selected my purchase, how the artwork was made, I politely listened, copper engraving, water colored. Mostly, that is irrelevant.
In the movie, Chocolat, Vianne (her name is code for a fashion designer) buys two necklaces from Roux because they set a scene of me, meaning they wanted me to make a scene, defending my mother, after her purchase for artwork was denied, or trying to buy the artwork myself, something of the sort. I am a greater diplomat than anyone has given me credit for, and sometimes, that includes, walking away.
Tell me the story of grand mere and grand pere, how this got to be in a movie, I have no idea, this is the story of my mother and me, visiting her parents at their Lethbridge home, my grandparents. My mother and I were staying in their basement, in a room, not quite a guest room, more like a storage room with a bed in it. It had very little room to walk around the bed, and the bed, sagged in the middle, so much so it was difficult to not roll to the middle. It was beyond laughable. I mean, the things we don’t do for our parents.
Unhitch me, Mickey. This is a memory I have of my maternal grandmother, after she made us a fried chicken dinner, she loved to make fried chicken (true story), standing in the open doorway of their bedroom, with her back to the hallway, she asked her husband to undo her brassiere. He proceeded to unzip the back of her dress and undo her bra. There is nothing wrong with that memory. It shows and ease and comfort between husband and wife, after years and decades of marriage, she still cooked his meals, and he helped her undress.
My mother and I were in the basement, in our room, and it must have only been eight or nine o’clock in the evening, a time when I normally would have been watching television and not retiring to bed. I must have only been about thirteen, or so at the time, so I was a little restless, so early in the evening to be retiring to a cramped, storage guest bedroom, to read a book, with my mother, sharing a bed, that sagged, and the limited light of the room.
My mother made mention of us not being too loud, and here is the story of grand mere and grand pere, just like with David and my jaw doesn’t come un-hinged, blow job joke, I, without really thinking, 1, 2 , 3, 4, steps of deduction in my head, said with natural ease and unaffectedness, yeah, you don’t want to let them think we’re having fun. My mother, just like David, burst into such a laughter, it was like the floodgates, of years and decades, of familial tension between parents and child; disappointments, hurt, anger, love, resentment, pain, upset, growing up to the realization that as a pre-teen, one’s own parents were not that good of parents, were revealed, and immediately, washed away, with laughter.
I realized it too, in that moment, in watching my mother, delivered in laughter, from pain and hurt. If a person, does not have that maturity of thought, since I was only thirteen at the time, if as an adult, a person does not understand the truthfulness in laughter, if a person is not able to understand and see a person is who they truly are – in that laughter, that is a once in a lifetime kind of laughter, that laugh that becomes a moment, a memory you hold with you until your dying day, then you know nothing about people, brains, and the truth.
My mother, I am not quite sure if this number is correct, my mother became a Christian, accepted Christ as her Savior when she was 12. She did not grow up going to church. She did, then lead her parents, to the Lord, and they became Christians because of my mother. My grandmother, after becoming a Christian, stopped wearing make-up of any kind, and not only threw away, but broke all of the music, LP’s they had in their house. I still can’t believe she threw away all that valuable music. Sometimes, people do that. Sometimes, people go to an extreme, or a perceived extreme, when they become Christians. Trying to make a distinction, separate themselves from who they used to be, I just don’t happen to believe, it is the only way.
My grandmother gave me a compact of pressed powder, must have been from the fifties, I kept it for years and years. I thought it was so neat, and something to keep and cherish. No one stole it.
Someone tried to write a happy ending to the David and Cherith love affair, with the movie, One Day. I would be Emma (Emergency, Ma) and David is Dexter (a brand of shoes). The scene with Dexter and his mother on the balcony with the Wisteria, is from my backyard. I tried to grow, Wisteria in our backyard, it never really grew very well, it doesn’t get cold enough in Florida for Wisteria. The reason Dexter shows up, sweating. Also, I bought note cards as a gift for my mother at MOMA in NYC, August 2001, of Tiffany stained-glass windows, one of the designs had Wisteria in stained glass.
The fact that Dexter’s mother tells Dexter, he’s just not very nice, yet, means someone, or several people, believed David was not considerate enough about me, and what was really happening to me and my mother, and truthfully not very nice to me. Although, in all truthfulness, it was most obvious, I lit up around him, like no man has ever done, but then, so very few have been able to try, haven’t they? I did light up, like there was no other man in the world, but him.
So, what is the real reason David never dated me, or was allowed to date me? Because the reason Emma dies in the movie, One Day, is to show how devastated I was by the loss of David, my love for David, and no longer being allowed – to love, a man, at all.
I didn’t believe you deserved her. This looks like real thought from people, that David didn’t deserve to be with me, I made him decent, looks truthful because I would have made him a better man, I made him decent and in turn, he made me happy, it was all over me.
Sorry about dinner, SAD.
David will never be happy, nor I, with hands only, I will never really be happy until I get to be a real person again, without the make-believe, scripting, cameras, and at least date real men, for real. Without anyone talking for them. What stupid people you have all been.
The reason I got so angry and mad when watching New Moon? So angry I had to start reading the books to figure out what was so important? So important about the movie, the movies. So mad and angry I had to start reading? A man must have been in the theater with me when I saw New Moon, and at the end of the movie, with the dialogue about a wedding, this is, another, match, marriage prospect that was to be introduced to me, to get me away from Michael, before I was 21 years of age, when I worked at Tex-Mex, when a waiter sat people in his own section and got military people killed, one of them being the son of a military man who they thought would have been a good match for me, and he was, got him killed by not allowing me to seat people, the waiter happened to be gay, sorry to hear you’ve been hurt, from Sherlock, I am telling you people and writing it over and over again so you people will be safe, it is the reason to NOT be included in my work, for your safety, so angry that another marriage prospect was not only denied me, but died.
Meet Joe Black, failed to meet me. We’ve talked though, haven’t we? After the Mexican restaurant in California, I was being driven around by a man and woman who are or were married, they were in their military uniforms, Coast Guard, Cherith Gjestland. Were they actually recruited because of me? For me? Because my mother was friends with their parents? They told me I should call Michael, and I thought, oh goodie, I get to talk to him. Except it wasn’t really Michael, it was the man from the Mexican restaurant using Michael’s voice. At a pay phone, outside, at a sort of strip mall, and I kept looking to the direction of the threat to this man, that was not yet known at the time, and not to the man watching me, looking me over, thinking I was sort of average looking, and I was.
So, when I had the conversation in the kitchen, that sent me back to Florida, with the words, selling drugs, I went to protect this man I was talking on the phone with because he was a good man. As I saw him then. And you idiots, let me get away.
Suddenly all about Edward, the hair as I call him, from Twilight, means people noticed, Cherith likes men with hair, no baldies. Not like my brother, like my father. My father still has his hair.
I can’t believe I am writing all of this, I am getting tired of writing, but I could go on and on, the scene in Sherlock of Magnussen and Lady Smallwood is meant to be seen by lesbians, that their approach, their contact, their hitting on me, any attempt to flirt with me, would be disgusting to me, as read and seen as disgusting to me. And seen as stupid on their part.
Lady Smallwood is code: Lady, My Fair Lady, my mother, Small being the size I was supposed to be, how many diets did I go on? And my purchases were followed. So, the reason I was not losing weight was not because I wasn’t trying. Wood, meaning, OBVIOUSLY, Cherith is straight.
The reason Clarice Starling is dead in the FBI training academy in the movie, Silence of The Lambs, it’s a seven o’clock, Cherith. It was for me to notice my grandmother didn’t really die from a stroke.
The reason they used at Dachau, with the sound, imagine this, the sound of every single Jew killed in the showers, at the concentration camps, every one, having me imagine the sound of every Jew’s screams at the concentration camps was so that I would not be able to remember all the intelligence people who were there with me, and what plans they had with them. It is a bit of an overkill, no? I still see these people, not all of them in detail, yet I do not see all of their plans and work they were doing. Hearing Damaged.
It should be taken notice that when I forgive these men, it is for a reason. Forgiven men, like David, my Boyfriend, this other FBI man. Somethings in the past just cannot be undone, so it serves no purpose to hold on to anger, and sometimes it’s important because they still must be important, somehow.
Enough sadness and loss for today.
A truth for me, the real truth about me, is that I see people, I see people as I believe they really are when they are revealed – in that laughter, that laugh, that lasts a lifetime of other memories, or hurt.
WE - DO NOT AGREE! 