Yesterday here in California it was so hot. It has been this way for over a week now. It is not intolerable, but uncomfortable enough and we haven't even hit Santa Anna season yet. Neither myself or Shawn, my roommate who also works from home, are much into the fake air... although we did discuss yesterday turning the thing on for a bit, then quickly decided against it. California's weather year round, as described in Courage of Fear, is always so, well, perfect; I suppose one can become spoiled enough to complain when the evening drops to 60 degrees or the humidity sets in around the late afternoon like it has this past week and temps hit around 90... like I said tolerable.
Shawn and I are sure enough blessed where we live. Especially me. My room is the master suite. On one wall is sliding glass doors that open up to my balcony, which looks to the South East over the LaCosta Resort golf course and to the South West just over a set of beautiful stucco red roof condos to the Ocean. I have my desk near the sliding doors... so when my mind wonders it can do so in the direction of God's beauty.
Due to yesterdays temps by the time seven hit I was a bit pooped. One of my myspace friends shot me a comment on my status talking about his spaghetti dinner... which in-turn reminded me of the time and the fact I had yet to eat dinner. I was too tired and hot to cook. Although the temps had began to cool a few hours before it was still a bit yucky. Not only did I not feel like cooking I didn't feel much like eating for that matter. Yet I did feel like bringing my writing to a close for the day.
Then is when the little vultures began to harp...
I decided on yogurt and fresh nuts and berries and indeed indulge in a Vernors pop to wet my whistle. I took indie outside to stretch his legs, visited with Shawn and sport (who was typically on their patio when they heard the softness of our feet descending on the outer stair well) and Laura (one of my favorite neighbors.)
I listened as Shawn (the neighborhood meteorologist with all his little weather gadgets clipped here and there and dangling from his patio ceiling) report all the weather of the day, including and of course not limiting updating us on the LA fires.
The little vultures still gnawing, pecking at my thoughts...
Laura, who looked as uncomfortable with the heat as I felt, shared with us an overnight she is thinking about doing at some resort casino just outside Palm Springs for the labor day weekend.
And as the vultures continued to gather in my brain, increasing in numbers... the chatter, relentless chatter...
Laura's entire body language shifted as she began to discuss a day at the hotel's day spa... mmm, facial and mud... manicure and pedicure... oooooh the leg messages, as i looked down at my own tanned naked toes and nails... soon, I promised, soon. I could already see the french pedicured nails offsetting the toe rings .
Pesky vultures all beginning to speak at once.
Laura's cats began to meow from her patio, she excused herself for the makings of her own dinner. Shawn and I chatted a bit longer. Indie continued to sniff his territory. The vultures continued their discussions, continued their discussion, continued their discussions as I too excused myself -- the vultures didn't care.
I grabbed my strawberry yogurt, spoon, a slice of fresh french bread, and my Vernors and made my way back up to the suite. I turned on the national news, sat myself at my desk, and watched at the buycotters swarmed Whole Foods in St. Louis. The supporters indeed made my heart pitter-patter. How incredible it is when we can come together, in peace, for a cause. . . be a part of change, in peace.
For the love of God, shut up already!
I checked my blog stats. Looked up a few IP address to see where folks were checking in from. Removed the bloody China folks that like to spam and tag onto my increasingly popular blog. I went to some of the social sites and tried to respond to some of the messages... I have learned that if I do not stay on top of those they can very easily get out of hand and damned near impossible to catch up with.
She needs a vacation
They got her number now
She is going to loose her audience
The bloody vultures... is it just metaphysical how they can swarm and multiply?
The analysis of our presidents fast, and unprecedented decline bantered back and forth between the reporter and the democratic analysis and the owner of Rasmussen. Talks of the importance of winning back us Independents to the liberal side flew between the split screens. Like we are some kind of product for sale.
Oh, maybe, the air conditioner for just a bit would settle my soul? No. The air was indeed cooling. Temps would surely drop soon.
Back to the blog stats I went as the debate over us independents escalated. I decided to just turn off the bloody computer after I satisfied my hunger. Go throw water on my face and brush my teeth to call it a night... before I did anything rash... and I did. Oh, the water felt good on my skin...
It was after nine, so i took Indie out for the last time before settling in.
I thought, maybe a cool walk with the pooch on the golf course. Put myself under the stars, next to the small fake waterfall, and into the evening breeze. I climbed the steps up to my room. Maybe I should read my new writer friend's finished manuscript to unwind... oh, another time when I wasn't so tired. I decided on some mindless visual cocaine (tv nighttime drama.) I just picked a channel, lifetime, and stretched out on my comforter, where the fan that pulled in the evenings cool tempatures breezed over me. The women that had dreams was on... what was the name of that show?.. Oh, Medium. The fan felt good on my bare legs. I rolled on to my belly. My pillow was so comfortable, the best. I brought my left knee up close to my chest and...
You need to get up.
Turn that computer back on.
Think!... "Who looks out for them, yeah?"
When my eyes initially opened I thought I dozed for only a bit.
What have you done?
The vultures waiting on me.
Turn that thing back on now.
The poor medium lady was in the middle of a bloody dream.
The vultures aren't so bad.
It must have been a marathon night for it was now past midnight.
They are going to think you are whacked.
Go turn it on!
My eyes made their way to the sleek, black, unlit, flat screen.
Before anyone else has a chance to read
Do it now
I made my way over to the computer, flopped myself down on the padded black leather, then glanced out to the evening stars. The pool's lights made the water look refreshing...
Do it now!
I hit the button.
Windows welcomed me back.
Maybe I should take a late night swim, I thought as my glance made its way back outside.
Do it now before others have a chance to see.
You can forget it ever happened.
I clicked on the burning globe to firefox and waited as the tabs swirled to open.
It's about time.
Maybe it isn't too late.
I clicked on the stats tab... refreshed... about a few hundred more than the day before.
Get on with it already
Do it now
I clicked on the tab to the left of the screen, "posts", then "edit"...
I clicked on the start button, then the shut off computer. Grudgingly I got up, felt like sticking my head in the toilet, yet opted for the queen, yet not before giving Indie a pat who was all comfy in his bed and under his blanket.
I flicked the remote to leave the medium with her dead people and before I knew it...
It as about 6:30am.
Jesus, what was I going to share with all of you today I asked god as I rolled up and out. . .the usual morning routine, pee, computer, face, teeth, Indie morning greetings...
Everything has a purpose.
I let Indie out and started my coffee.
But what do I come back with after the spew from yesterday?
I poured creme in my coffee as Indie bounced in for his morning chicken treat.
Coffee in hand, pooch fed and watered, and back at my computer... long pause as I stared at the screen.
What? What is it you want from me?
You are just a gal. Everything in my world has purpose. Now finish your story.
I was fortunate to grow up in the town I did... to have the parents and siblings I did... the schools I went to... the lineage I had... oh, and my horses. God, how I loved my horses... showing and riding. Literally where I grew up, I could begin a trail ride behind my house and be gone for an entire day or longer if I wanted to camp in the woods. It was so amazingly beautiful in that small New England town where I grew up. And indeed I was a spoiled brat. I never wanted for anything... that was until my mom got sick and then instantly my life changed forever.
I learned to become such a rebel at the time... learning to fen for yourself at such an early age as 14 can not only make one clever it can also harden a soul. You learn things you don't want to learn. You see things you don't wish to see. Yet you learn from being in the homes with the perbs that make their advances... the ocean, park benches, and grass spots under the trees are a ... well easier to understand life. You know what to expect. . . who to trust. There were codes. On the streets you know who to watch out for, the right time to jump and roll out of a car that picked you up hitchhiking... you know? There are certain codes and survival depended on you knowing them. Now don't get me wrong. I didn't live on the city streets of Boston... I tried it for a bit, yet it wasn't the life for me. Where I lived as a run away was an upscale, very much so, town in Mass... considered one of the states smallest city's... and to this day is indeed one of the most beautiful.
Back in those days the fashion was the mini-shirts with the cute little matching panties underneath. You grew accustom to the gentlemen following you down the street after you left lunch, stopping you to chat you up on your way back to work... indeed, I took on a receptionist job at the age of 14 and indeed while living on the ocean's sand and park benches, I kept that job... bus stop lockers proved a great find for such a life... old guys looking at you with this hunger you found not only disgusting, but pathetic as well; not because of the actual act itself... more because of, well, being so young the gentleman believed they were getting something over you... and indeed, having grown up where I did... having the parents and the siblings I had, I learned to give them that... but you knew what the sick fucks was doing... but you smiled knowing him for the fool perb that he was... oh, and the pick up lines themselves were always such a joke... anyway, being young and attractive you got used to such things as a way of life. You smiled politely, gave the man his say, sometimes accepted his card (like you would ever call) and then would go about your day back at the office.
You learned to live the dual life. The cute mini shirt, make-up wearing pretty receptionist by day... that had her act together. Then, after you hit the locker, pulled your hair back, took off the junk, threw on the dirty blue jeans and tee shirt and began looking for where you were going to sleep that night. And one constant though you would never ever let it be known? You were scared shit most of the time and no matter how many people you were around you were always alone with only yourself to depend on. So, the alcohol/drug lifestyle I had while attending jr high school to deal with the inevitable loss coming my way, went to the wayside. Being bounced between foster homes and making my way to the sanity of the streets I was smart enough to know, I could only depend on myself and I needed to grow up and have a clear head-- surviving was a top priority.
I think one of the greatest gifts the good Lord had blessed me with, and much to my surprise I might add, was a keen mind. Really, I say that with all humility and also very much aware that it was also my greatest defect. (Let's face it, there was nothing more worse that a sharp mind that lacked formal education. It was a demanding needy little shit always thirsty for more.) Once in my younger years... during the times of my troubled youth, I was forced to take not only an IQ test also a logic and reasoning test... along with an MMPI II personality test. I did so, yes, grudgingly. When the results had come back my counselor remarked words to the effect of no wonder you are such a handful... your IQ and logic and reasoning results were off the chart along with your anger... evidently, the highest the IQ would go was 121 with a perfect score... if one recvd a perfect score you then scored what was 121+, meaning higher, yet just how high was unmeasurable for that specific test... logic and reasoning results were pretty much the same...
Now, I took these test when I was about 16 or 17--no high school diploma (9th grade level education), already seen more that any girl should see, was a part of what was a gang back then (very different than what they are today--yet similar in the fact they were necessary for your survival... the tribe), lived in areas most folks wouldn't walk through, had made drugs out of my bathtub (and indeed sold them), survived almost a year in a violently abusive relationship (keep in mind, I picked that guy. Everyone was afraid of him. Therefore I knew, given that little tid-bit, I would be safe with him in an unsafe world. He would protect me... I just failed to think far enough ahead to who would protect me from him.), I paid attention, not necessarily to what my older neighbors were telling me in my ghetto neighborhood, but the life they were living, and with Jen on the way, me emancipated by the state, and having the years and upbringing before all that, and obviously the brain in my head... I knew there was a better life... not for myself at the time; for that beautiful gift the Universe was about to bless me with. She deserved more.
And so began my rough, tumultuous, sometimes exhausting, many times stumbling or falling on my ass or face, rode out. It wasn't until many years after that where it became a memory and I would be indeed back in the land of social standing...
... yet I never forgot...
... I never denied...
... And I always made purpose...
... Of the life the Good Lord gave me...
Which is why...
What I see happening now, in this country is making me sick.
I have lived on the streets and I know a con when I see one. Just because the con is coming from money doesn't make it any less a con. And living a life with money and no money I am here to share with you a con is a con is a con. Period.
What Obama and/or Acorn did to the poor during the elections made me sick to my stomach... yet made me rejoice in the fact that indeed I had made my mark in my world and escaped it.
I spent a life either volunteering (many of those stories are in the Courage of Fear blogs--and they are all true) or working professionally helping and counseling the under privileged, (and yes the wealthy.) It wasn't uncommon in my home during Jennifer's teen years, when I had my own business, to recv a phone call in the middle of the night from the police... they would be on a call where the person was uncontrollable, could I come down?... or a family member in New York would summon me from Kansas because a grown son lost his way in an area the family was unfamiliar and were fearful (and I am talking about one of the Head attorneys of the Dock workers Union here--fearful)... or a frantic adult out of town unable to get a parent to answer or return calls would phone begging in tears and fear... for me to find them, yet too late they past. I learned to dress down and go out. I knew my Creator would keep me safe. I knew my way around the seedy side of town. . . and I had a big fat cell phone... it all made sense right? There was a purpose for everything, right? A person's character was not measured by the falls they took, or the words they spoke, but by how they lived their life. I didn't do these things because I was some kind of Saint. I did it to redeem myself... to get that much further away from hell...
And as I sat in my LaCosta Resort home on the golf course and I watched the rhetoric play out on the TV screens and in the newsprint... I did what I learned to do so many years ago... I went to the library. I searched the Internet. I studied up on the men. If they wrote books, I read them. I listened to many different news channels. I read many different news media. And I did what I learned to do when I lived on the streets. I watched what they did, not listened to what they said. I measured the men and/or women by their actions.
I found Obama's actions during his campaigning repulsive and underhanded. In my mind's eye I saw him do the most despicable thing that I believe any person could do in our Country. It sickened me. He used the race card and then manipulated and took advantage of the underprivileged... and he continues to do that to this day.
He reached out to these people and made them feel special and useful. He recruited them to do his tidings... making promises of his care and protection... and indeed they followed and indeed they worked and indeed they believed... Why wouldn't they? What government official, high up on their podium had ever done that before? Oh, and it worked and they worked... as he knew they would. I have seen his type before. I have worked for this type before... the high and mighties who get rich off the poor... and the poor, they just need the help and they endure... because they want a quick way out. They need to believe in the lie. They want out.
Just like I did.
But no such way exists.
I know that for fact.
But, in this country... and indeed unlike many countries, there is indeed a way out if you work hard. It is your constitutional right out.
Now, if you are living in that life. It is a hard thing to swallow. The streets have codes. You want to believe the politicians that preach from the pulpit they want to feed you, they want to house you, they want to give you health care... They want you to have a life like they have... yeah, right!... Isn't Obama's aunt still living in public housing as an illegal immigrant? If he never helped her you think he is going to pay your mortgage?
... When all they really want to do is control you...
For the people who live in those neighborhoods, look around you. Tell me you don't fear for your children's life every single day? Tell me that you don't fear your children will be in the gangs and dealing the drugs because that is the way of survival there? Tell me you don't live in fear every single day wondering if that is the day you will watch your kid shot in the streets?... or maybe you are one of the blessed that has protected them so far and all your hopes and dreams lie in that life being your way out?
If America wants to see what America will look like when it is controlled by the Government... go to your inner cities and take a good look... because indeed those are run by our Government.
And if you are one of those folks that live in Government housing and are looking for a way out... MOVE... and for the love of all things holy don't tell me you can't. I know for a fact you can. If you do not begin by removing yourself from that environment, that environment will own you and you will, or your children will, become it... and then the powers that be will indeed have continued and complete control over you...
As was demonstrated in this past election.
Now for all you liberal naysayers who fire back calling me an obama hating, gun slinging, right wing, racist; let me ask you...
How many projects have you lived in?
When was the last time you went downtown and put a blanket over a mother and child on the mattress on the street?
Who was the last schzoid you took home for a hot meal and a bath?
Each and everyone of us in this country has an unalienable right to live however we see fit.
If we as a country begin to "take care" of the less fortunate through our Government it takes away that right and keeps them imprisoned forever in a life of mediocre--less than mediocre. . . because we already know... the facts are all there... the government with all of the regulations they have now could really care less unless there is something in it for them--for the love of God look how people were manipulated to lie and cheat during the election... where was the integrity there?
We cannot skew the facts...
Security Exchange commission--Berney Madoff
FDIC--which is almost broke
Senate/Congress--wouldn't you love to have their vacation/pension/leave/salary/jets?
This mortgage disaster started in the House and continued in the house while poor folks were getting high interest rates and politicians were lining their pockets and getting low interest rates... it is a fact.
All these govt programs and divisions have run this country--as soon possibly the world--into the ground...
Can you imagine, just for one moment, what you or I could do with that money these bureaucrats have misused, slid in their pockets, or flushed down the stool?
Every time we make the government bigger the less fortunate in this country suffer second to the middle class.
When individuals have that money... we always, most of us, most of the time, do the right thing.
Look what we have done for the world? Our private industry makes up 50% of the worlds wealth... and if you visit other countries you know even our poor have it better than many... because of the donations of the private sector... not our government.
If Obama and Pelosi goes through with their plans--their direction for America, it will indeed be the down fall of not just america... of the world.
I am not saying our system isn't broke... yet I believe our strength lies in our people, not in our government.
When our Government grows so do the lobbiest.
When our small business grows so does the jobs.
We The People are what makes America great... the government has never done that...
For all you bleeding liberals out there... tell me? If you were to recv 5 million dollars to do whatever you wished... would you:
Build some homes for the needy?
Build a kick-ass shelter?
Feed or cloth the poor?
Build a school for the under priveledged?
Shut off water to a whole California town, putting thousands of min wage workers out of a job to save the minnows?
Or study salmon?
My story is told.
Have a grand day all. Peace.