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June 4, 2001

Damn!

Seems I can't get a word in edge-wise < when it comes to everything I've been doing >.

Q: When will it end? A: It won't.

Q: WHY? A: Because that's WHO you ARE.

And... NO... I'm not specifically talking about YOU, although... there is that remote possibility that YOU too share that trait. You are always doing something.

Come to think about it... there seems to only be a handful of ways that people can be when it comes to the general modus operandi.

Perhaps one of these fit you... < one of them has to be - it's the law >.

1. You do things - but... only when you feel like it. You frequently try to find a way out of things and, you seem to have plenty of aches and pains along with general malaise.

2. You do things - but... only when others force you or expect it from you. Either a kick in the ass or outright guilt motivates you. The sharp stick in the ass most often works.

3. You do things - but... only under certain phases of the moon, the seasons, barometric pressure, hormonal fluctuations, or... that occasional < seemingly out of nowhere > wild hair up your ass. You would probably listen to Miss Cleo.

4. You do things - but... only when it has a direct effect, which most likely is, something that offers priority benefits - that is: to yourself. All for one and one and all for me.

5. You do things - but... you also do things other people should have done or should be doing. You don't mind stopping for directions, but - you hate to ask for help.

6. You do things - but... most everything you do is done half assed. Enough said?

7. You do things - but... not when somebody >>> anybody <<< isn't looking. You need a witness. Otherwise, people might not believe it.

8. You do things - but... it's never enough or good enough. You are always tired. You could be president of the piss and moan club.

9. You do things - but... you do them with an incredible flourish. Not only do you build the table, but - you carve a 12 piece place setting and forge your own cutlery.

10. You do things - but... you never admit it.

June 6, 2001

Oops... I forgot to tell ya that the court date for last month was CANCELED.

Those fuckers. And AGAIN.

Entangled within the judicial system. It's not the place to be if you are impatient.

Neither is it a place to be if you are a child. You have no say, no validation... no actual voice. The adults are entitled to believability. Even IF they are the most fucked up people in the county... it doesn't matter. THEY are of legal age. THEY make the laws. THEY have the power. THEY are the elusive THEM.

If you are a child within the confines of an abusive situation at the hands of adults... you have a squeaky, nearly inaudible voice. Everything is based on what the adults around you say. Now THAT is absolute power.

In the case of my niece and nephew... YEAH... they ARE young... but, I believe them, and... I believe that their own paternal grandmother DID sexually mess with them.

Quite frankly, I can think of nothing more disturbing and disgusting than that. Not only because of the act and intention itself... BUT... because of the fact that she is a woman. Not failing to mention the fact that she is their GRANDMOTHER.

Biology has little to do with my wrath when it comes to this situation. I would have been equally as distressed if it were any OTHER woman. OR... man for that matter. That isn't even the point. The point is an abusive of trust. The dampening of a child's spirit is an abomination unto mine.

It's plain wrong.

When I think about the myriad of abusers within society < past and present > it makes me feel very sad.

At this point I'll speak directly to the abusers: It makes me sad to think that I am a part of that same humanity that you come from. Your total degradation and humiliation would please a certain human part of me. Your annihilation would imbibe another portion of my flesh.

Yet... when I look at this from a deeper, spiritual level... I find that I really do feel sorry for you. Sorry that you haven't got the depth of feeling I've been blessed with. Sorry that you are unable to see the gift that children truly are upon the face of the planet.

BUT... the above mentioned sorrow I feel for you.... wellllll... if it comes at all, it comes in flashes. It doesn't stay long. Nope. It doesn't. It doesn't BECAUSE I AM human. I'm human and I hate what you have done. While I'm humanly sorry your sanity has been disemboweled, BUT... I don't blame it on anyone but YOU.

YA KNOW WHAT? I don't give a flying fuck if you have been abused YOURSELF as a child. WHY? Because if you WERE... then you KNOW what that feels like. Tell me WHY would you do it? Tell me WHY you would perpetrate your own fucked up self on a defenseless and trusting child? Tell me WHERE you get off? Tell me what gives you the RIGHT?

No... on second thought... don't tell me anything. I don't want to hear what you have to say. I don't want to hear your denials or your justifications for your sicko behavior.

I'd just as soon slap ya as look at ya.

So.... WHY the diatribe?

As you might guess... the "authorities" told my Sista that, "nothing would come of this"... criminally speaking that is. Not a slap in the wrist. NOTHING. Nothing because there is NO proof. No proof because kids don't count.

I knew that. I knew nothing criminal would come of this. I knew that a long time ago. BUT... after hearing the revelations from the older of the two children, I am sickened enough to wish grievous injury to the perpetrator. Self inflicted as in MYSELF inflicted.

That BITCH.

And now for something completely different......

30 days!

30 days until I see my new family... M and the boys.

Time is a tickin' away. Tick - tock - how much we got?

Welllllll... overall, who knows? But, 30 days is preeminent in my mind. 4 months is a long damn time.

Too damn long.

It'll be 5 until I see them. 5 months. 5 long months.

June 15, 2001

I'm back!

And... I mean I'm REALLY back.

Late Wednesday night, I returned from a surprise trip to Arizona to see M!

I arrived there last Friday night and was picked up by her best friend at the airport. "P" and I had been conspiring to do this for M's birthday since we met in February. It was P's gift for M... now, that's a sure sign of a friend, isn't it??!!!!!. Not everybody would do something like that, but... then again, P is definitely NOT just anybody... plus, she's somebody that I felt comfortable with and liked from the moment we met.

She's cool people.

PLUS, it helps that P also shares that love of fiery foods with me. Now that's always a bonding thing because it's NOT the majority of the population that imbibes in and savors those flaming substances. It seems that for those of us who do, it's somewhat of a blazing craving. There's a passion fueling it. It's an acquired taste which leads to severe addiction. There's no clinic for capsaicin junkies. And... we are better off getting the heat of our glowing fix. If we didn't, we might be wandering the streets in search of it.

In fact, if capsaicin was an illegal substance... I'd be growing pepper plants in my house, or, buying it in the park from a stranger. If I did that park thing, God knows what else might be in it. It could be laced with something or, worse yet... the potency could be cut and, OHMYGOD... that would piss me off completely.

Things could get very ugly. Then I might have to kill somebody and I'd be writing from prison. Hmmmm.... and I'm not even sure they would allow me to upload. I'd probably have to write on paper and have someone else post it.

Now back to the track I intended to be on... the trip to see M...

Well of course.... ;^) .... I had a great time being with them.

Surprising her was fun for both P and me. I don't know how many scenarios were went through but, we ended up settling on me being in the guest room while she occupied the kids with a present that she had wrapped to the point it would take minutes to unwrap. So... there they were unwrapping the gift in the backyard while P takes M back into the house under the premise of, "there's something I want to show you..."

Now.... it's only 21 days until they all get here. That deserves another Wooooo damn hoooooo!

Other stuff
While I was gone my Uncle died. Yesterday was the funeral.

Oddly enough, before I went to Arizona in February I had dreamt that he died while I was there < I wonder if I mentioned that here... ? >. While he didn't die then, he did die when I was there. I'm really not that surprised it happened that way, ....I am relieved that his suffering is over. While his health hadn't been that good, most of what he suffered from was emotional fallout from his son's suicide last fall. He was in an incredible amount of pain from that. In part, I feel like he died from a broken heart.

So, yesterday I was at the same funeral home my cousin had been in month before. In the very same place that Rob's casket was, so was his father. I saw many of the same people again, only everyone was wearing different clothes.

People weren't crying as much as before. My uncle's departure was imminent, while the suicide of my healthy 30 year old cousin was a complete shock. There were tears shed for my colorful and cranky Uncle , but, I didn't hear anyone sobbing uncontrollably.

My Aunt seems to be holding together remarkably well. She seems to have the strength of a hundred women sometimes. Maybe now, she can take better care of herself since there is no one else in the house for her to be the caretaker of. I hope so.

I do wonder if my Aunt doesn't have a facade that falls away when she is alone. I do wonder if she doesn't cry herself to sleep. In reality... it's so true that things aren't always what they seem.

My Aunt doesn't live far from me. I plan to keep in contact with her regularly, and, I told her to call me if she needs anything - even if she just wants to talk.... I'll be there.

I'll be there because THAT'S how I am.

June 19, 2001

Once again... a few days go by. 17 days from today and it'll be D < as in departure > day for M and the kids. We are going to have some major fun!

My Sista is planning a getaway with her boyfriend the second weekend M and the kids are here. Smack in the middle of the vacation. I thought that would be best. So, we'll have a total of 5 kids here for that middle of the vacation weekend. THAT ought to be interesting. And... I'm hoping to write while M is here. Of course... that might not be every day - BUT... it will happen. If I can get a chance to write while all of them are here, now THAT might be a miracle.

Of course, the go-go-hut in the courtyard will be ready for the occasion. The disco ball is spinning and the music will be thumping probably more than one night.

In the days that follow, I'll be trying to get things together. I'll be cleaning the car, getting my grocery list together, and - doing some general < as you can imagine > getting my shit in a group stuff. I've already accepted the fact that I will NOT get everything done the way I'd like. I know it. It is impossible for me to please me. At least, not all the way. Yep. I accept it without embracing it. I admit it. Yet... that doesn't stop me from fretting about things anyway.

Will my car breakdown on the way to the airport? Will we all be able to cram ourselves and luggage into the Mitsubishi Eclipse? Will they be comfortable once they get here? Or... will they wish they were home the moment they arrive? Will I have everything they'll need and possibly, even what they want? Will M be allergic to my car? To the house? To the State itself? Will I be able to sleep in the days leading up to this? Will the pollen count be high here in July? Will it be raining half of the time they are here? Will it be hot and muggy? Will Tasha and Booda behave?

DON'T TELL ME...

I also know that it's not your regular stupid. It's not because it's NOT simply STUPID - it's laughing stupid.  It's that pounding your fist on the table, bent over and cracking up, tears streaming down your face kind of stupid. It's that whatthefuckisthematterwithyou stupid.

Not to worry. It's a temporary psychosis.

So then smarty pants, perfect one...

...why don't YOU tell me that you have NEVER done this or any variation thereof?

June 20, 2001

Let's take a trip on back to the shit pile.
Apparently, my uncle didn't leave a will. BUT... he did leave my Aunt with plenty of debts and now, it looks like Probate Court.

She has one son left. A middle son. A messed up son. A functioning schizophrenic. Functioning most often without medication. That is, not functioning well.

The day my uncle died, my cousin's car burned up in the yard there. He was visiting the house when my Aunt had to call the Fire Department. Apparently, the car began to burn 10 or 15 minutes after it had been parked in the driveway. The ignition was off and the fire could have began before the ignition was turned off - BUT, why would that matter when your car has been totaled in a fire? It doesn't.

So... my Aunt went without a car and allowed her son the use of her car. Why? Because she's like that. She's compassionate. And... schizoid or not, after all,  it is her son.

Over the last few days, the middle sole son decided to harass his mother mercilessly. Screaming and cursing, ranting and raving... all sorts of bullshit. Now on one hand, I could say that BECAUSE he has a problem that it isn't his fault. On the other hand, he works for people that he doesn't act this way in front of, so, he knows how to maintain, or, how to control himself.
Thus, I'd say he bears the brunt of the responsibility.

I am highly uncomfortable with this situation because he has been known to not only get verbally abusive with her, but - he's been known to attack her physically. He's been taken from the house by the police more than once already. Now, there is nobody to protect her or even to witness his behavior and to call the police. She is on her own.

That makes me a little nervous. No... scratch that. That makes me VERY nervous.

It's not that my cousin is an imposing presence. He's not. BUT - you gotta understand that this dude is NUTS. If somebody went ballistic in a public way, it wouldn't surprise me to find out it was him. Besides all that... my Aunt is pretty damn frail. Frail and a nervous wreck.

Today he was demanding some "stuff." He assumes that my uncle's death has lined his Mom's pockets. Not true. At least, not as far as what is known. He did not have credit life insurance on much from what she has been able to find out at this point. In fact, it appears that he didn't leave a will. This might be tangled up in probate court.  But, he has left her with plenty of debt. As his wife, his debts are now her obligations. As for life insurance, she knows nothing about anything. He left her completely in the dark as far as his finances went. In the coming days, I expect this to unfold.

My Aunt did sign over a car to him today though. Not like she had to, BUT - she probably felt like she had to anyway. So, she did. Probably in the hopes that he'd get off her back.

Sickening how money turns people into assholes at times like this - even relatives. My Aunt is getting tired of people telling her what to do. And the gall of people coming out of the woodwork and inappropriately trying to put dibs on my Uncle's stuff. Yeah...you know... the kind of people who want something for nothing or right next to it. The kind of greed that shows when someone dies is amazing. Especially someone who has a lot of stuff. Yep. My Uncle had lots of toys and tools. But, like I said to my Aunt tonight... she's got to take care of herself now so she's got to think of herself now. Once everything is settled and she knows what she's dealing with, she's entitled to a fair market value of his worldly possessions. An eventual auction looks like a possibility. Let whoever wants something at least pay for it.

Believe it or not, today my cousin wanted GUNS. My uncle had amassed a small arsenal. Of course, my Aunt wouldn't give him any guns - but... he has a key to the house. He COULD take any one or all of them. Like that goofy bastard needs a weapon, eh?

He just might end up down at the local mall opening fire at random.

Sadly, it wouldn't be a surprise to me if he were to flip out like that. It also would not be a surprise if he murdered his Mother, or, if he killed himself.

Anyway, I volunteered to stash the weaponry. That's about all I could do, aside from feeling sad about everything she has had to endure. Along with what she is going through now.

Odd how in talking to my Mom today < in my office >, I reminded her of a conversation we had about 6 years ago. As I walked her to the door after an emotionally charged conversation, I asked if she recalled us talking about how fortunate we were not to have had to deal with tremendous tragedy in our lives. Of course, she remembered. I could see the sadness in her eyes as they met mine. I'm sure she saw a mirror image in looking at me.

How things can quickly change is a reminder that we'd better enjoy the day at hand.

So I get home from the office today. There were 2 packages at my door. They were from M.

The bigger one had a card attached. Inside she wrote: "It is never to late to get what you have always wanted..."

I opened the box and there it was. Brand spanking new. Predominately pink even.

My very own Easy-Bake oven.

I laughed out loud all alone in the house. When I went to Arizona, we had a conversation about toys we had and wished we'd had as kids... ;^)

June 25, 2001

It's late in the day. I'm wrapping up the weekend and mentally preparing to head into the office in the morning....

June 27, 2001

So what. I fell off the writing wagon. I'm certain you aren't all that surprised.

Good thing I didn't land on my head. I wouldn't be able to write today if I had.

Let's play some catch-up. So... what have I been doing?

Over the weekend I cleared some brush in the yard and trimmed some overhanging plant life away from the paths. It's amazing how fast this stuff grows. The yard is becoming a jungle, entangled in wild grapevines. So I whacked and whacked and cut that stuff down. Then, I hauled and piled it higher than my measly height onto the fire pit way out in the back yard. It's green so I probably should wait to burn it. But... lo and behold - < wouldn't you know it > I am impatient and justified my impatient impulse due to the fact that I had pre-planned and hauled out some wood that was on the bottom of the pile. Hmmmmm. It might not work - but, what the hell. A couple of match light charcoal briquets and over an hour after lighting them and watching it smoke, I rendered my plan entirely ineffective.

I decided to barbeque some chicken in the courtyard while I talked to M on the phone. While in the midst of this, I heard a snap-crackle-pop and witnessed flames flaring up from within the brush pile. Ignition achieved, I headed to the garage for the steel rake in order to contain the burning debris.

We've been talking on the phone a lot... keeping the telephone companies happy.

June 29, 2001

Whew!

I am busy. VERY busy...

... I feel guilty for not keeping up with my writing here, BUT - rest assured, I'll be back in the ol' groove in no time at all.
 
 

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