Posted by Becky on December 11, 2009
About Michael Jackson last night. Which is weird because A) I was never a fan and 2) I don’t normally dream about celebrities (dead or alive). I knew he was dead and he knew he was and and we talked for a very long time and he was fascinating and I asked at the end if he could come back and he said “no” you could only do it once because there was just a short time to do this.
He didn’t mention an after life and we talked about when he died and how he had no family around as some do when knowing they are going to die or people who require last rites or some death bed scene. He didn’t know if there was going to be an after life and said his mother didn’t believe in an after life.. Didn’t mention his brothers or is dad. Apparently one can still hold a grudge when dead.
He had this massive book collection that he kept hidden. Old books and some were signed by the authors. He gave me a copy that had not been signed (WTF you cheap bastard?) and he was trying to explain how everything from baseball to Ivy League colleges (their hierarchy, yes! he used that word in a normal voice.) was based on ancient civilizations and that we think we are copying the Romans with our architecture and Senate, etc., but there was another civilization that the Romans’ mimicked that gets no credit and I can’t fucking remember what he said except it had the letters THSEPPN and it wasn’t Thessalonians or Thespians so just shut up!
And then we played tic tac toe on a giant apparatus that turned and there was something said about the date John Lennon died.
I woke up and I had slept 12 fucking hours and that’s all I get? Michael Jackson? WTF?
Posted by Becky on December 6, 2009
One of the things I hate to do is puke and even worse is in a public bathroom duirng a friends special occassion. (We all went to dinner at Safire’s last night to celebrate Sandy’s 50th birthday)
But I must, on a scale from one to ten, puking at Safire’s scored a ten! The bathroom was clean, the floor was clean, there wasn’t a short hair to be found and they even had a private stall for the handicap. It was like a seperate room.
I did try and refrain from puking with breathing exercises and what not, but by the time the third person from our party came to check on me, I figured I better let ‘er rip. There is nothing worse than a hot wave of nausea accompanied by puking when you haven’t been snorting heroin. At least with heroin, once the puking is over the fun begins. But I digress.
John was a trooper he got me home in record time and Marty and Sandy treated us for dinner so we didn’t skip out on the bill, but hey…… I just might file that under my cap for future reference with one of my children.
I did get out of going to an engagement party today, so I got that going for me which is good. John made lasagna and he and Roger went. Joseph is at work so I actually have the house all to myself and it was blissfully quiet up until Darwin went down the ditch to the neighbors house and barked all morning at their pit bull. I heard a knock at the door and then it’s ” do you know anyone with a Beagle?” I wanted to respond with ” You fucking know that’s my dog you live one house over! So Darwin is on lockdown today and I take him out on the prison yard with a leash so he can take a leak. Poor Blue gets excited each time thinking we’re going for a walk.
So, I’m feeling all better now except my back is jacked up from puking. But Sandy, when I turn 50 you can hurl til your hearts content.
And if you can’t find a place to hang that thingamagig, John could use it as a testicle.
Posted by Becky on October 17, 2009
I seem to be surrounded by the thought of people dying of late. My mom might have an Aortic Abdominal Aneurysm. My brother called me yesterday to let me know he might have some form of skin cancer and is waiting to find out the results of the biopsy next week. If someone comes to work with a cold, I worry for my boss and I worry about his wife, too. I worry for our Sales Managers wife and our Boiler Operators wife and Kristen, who had the Rock the Cure event last week. The list is getting too large! But then death is with me every day, I remind myself. It never goes away, it is like the air that surrounds me. I’m not always aware that it’s there unless, of course, it’s blowing.
Like today. I went to my local yarn store to see if I could leave a garment for Sarah to finish. For those of you that don’t knit, finishing is the most tedious of knitting. It cuts into our knitting time. Sarah would do it for a fee and she was great at it, which is something not all knitters can say, myself included. So, like I said today I went in thinking I could leave it for Sarah and I found out Sarah had died! It was so shocking and I was so sad to hear this news as she had successfully battled cancer before so naturally when she got cancer again, one just assumes…..
Sarah was born in Israel and she was blessed with that ability to tell wonderful stories that made you feel like you were there. I can still remember the day she told us about the first time she saw snow fall in Israel as a child. I was often amazed as I worked or was just sitting as a knitter that an Atheist, a Jew, a Christian, a Mormon, a recovering Catholic and an Agnostic could sit and knit and crochet (weapons, mind you) while discussing religion and politics with not a drop of bloodshed.
I can’t remember how often some poor soul would wander into the store with a partially finished garment that their mother or grandmother had left unfinished who had passed away. They would come in not knowing what to do with it, but only knowing that it was something that they deeply wanted to have and sought guidance. It was often Sarah who would finish the garment, sometimes matching old yarns or even working without the pattern and it was such a special gift.
I will miss you Sarah, and the table where we sat and knit and shared stories will not be the same without you, but you enriched our lives and we were so blessed to have known you and we will keep that part of you with us and in that respect, you will always be with us.
The Mourner’s Kaddish
Glorified and sanctified be G-d’s great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will. May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon. Amen.
May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.
Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world. Amen.
May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us
and for all Israel. Amen.
He who creates peace in His celestial heights, may He create peace for us and for all Israel. Amen
Posted by Becky on September 27, 2009
Which is what I would expect to read in the Ventura Star. But no, I think we want the world-at-large to believe that here in Sunny Camarillo, nothing bad ever happens here by someone who lives here. No, it’s always those damn outsiders. Like oh, say, somebody from Oxnard vandalizes a Camarillo home. That makes the news and so does a new city ordinance to keep bicycles off of the fucking sidewalks! Old people have the right of way and a 12 year old or a parent with child in tow can handle a 4,000 lb car, right? Now, I do get annoyed when I see someone ride a bike on the sidewalk and not conduct themselves as a pedestrian. But I don’t need a fucking ordinace to tell someone, “get the fuck out of my way, asshole”! Which, I must be honest, I have been known to do in the case of bad manners.
But, getting back to my first rant, the public has a right to know what is going on in their own neighborhood. So, if it’s not in the paper by tomorrow………..
Posted by Becky on September 16, 2009
Also known as Jacob. Jacob who has a car with no tags. Jacob who has no tags because he has no insurance. Jacob who has no insurance because he has no drivers license. Ah yes, Jacob who has no drivers license because he got a DUI and has yet to go to school where, apparently, they teach you HOW to drink and drive. At least that appears to be what they taught Joseph.
But Jacob also has to get to work to pay his bills, to feed his family, etc. Quite the conundrum., eh?
So tonight, he stops by our house to eat on his way home from work and then I get a call 30 minutes after he’s left beginning with “Mom?” Whenever they pose my name as a question, it’s going to be a pain in my pocketbook. ” Can you come pick me up, please?” Who is this? Its Jacob, I’m at Arneill and Dawson”. There is no such intersection, I point out. “I’m not at an intersection I’m on the freeway, mom”. Can’t you call AA?, I ask. ” Just come drive by and get me please! I’m at the Dawson exit”. “Do a drive by! Now, who is this?’ Wait! You want me to get on the freeway and get off at Dawson? “No DON’T get off the Freeway. Just get on the freeway”. I’m having so much fun by now it’s truly criminal. “They are going to tow my car.” Oh, AA? “No, the cops!” What the hell, can’t they give you a ride home?
So, off I go, I get on the freeway and there is Jacob pulled over by not one but two police cars right there sure as shit before the Dawson exit. I park behind the popo and wait. I sat there for so long watching him talk, at one point he looks like he’s taking notes, pointing at things that aren’t there. Either he’s trying to comprehend some type of directions or he’s on acid. He gets very animated when he talks, arms flailing about and what-not and them damn lights keep flashing and I’m about ready to have a fucking seizure! I still don’t know what he’s done to warrant two police cars. Finally I see him SHAKE THE HANDS OF THE OFFICERS WTF? and he picks ups his tool box, hard hat and tool belt and then trudges his crap on over to the back of my pick-up.
Now you need a visual of Jacob’s car. He painted it himself in the Kaiser parking lot in the Valley during the night. He picked the Kaiser parking lot because they have good lighting. He had to hurry as it’s illegal to paint in public and all so he had a homeless guy help him and Jacob bought him a hamburger. (He’s quite the industrious criminal. If only he could use his poer for good!) He painted the car with spray paint,complete with flames on the hood. He didn’t tape off anything so there are paint drips on his windshield, rear view mirrors and license plate. He welded a Toyota emblem in a Carpentry class and it’s about a foot in diameter and fits between the trunk and his spoiler. Oh, yeah, this baby’s got a spoiler. I’m assuming he’s violated some code for this hideous vehicle or they got held of video of him painting in public. Maybe the paint on his windshield or rear view mirrors is a hazard. Oh no, Jacob gets pulled over for no fucking license plate light! Who gets pulled over for no license plate light? You have to have your license plate lit up? For real?
He explains to me that since he was driving with a suspended drivers license they could have impounded his car for 30 days but “these guys were really cool, mom” and they said he can pick his car up in 24 hours.
Here’s where the Einstein part kicks in. How does one think they can pick up a car from impound when one has no drivers license, tags or insurance?
Oh and it gets better. He wants to borrow money and could I drive him to the ATM right now? Um, what was your name again? I told him he can spend the night, Joseph can take him tomorrow to see if he can even get his car, find out what it is going to cost and then have his people call my people around noon.
I had a hundred bucks ear marked for Darwin to get his nuts cut off on Thursday, but now I’m having serious reservations about my own contribution to the gene pool.
Shh, don’t tell anyone, but I’m beginning to suspect we don’t have a deep end.
Posted by Becky on August 23, 2009
I had my first dream about reading a book last night or this morning or whenever dreams occur. It started off with a group of friends (guys and girls) vacationing in San Francisco. Visiting books stores, dancing at a retro disco joint and then at closing time they decide to go Buena Vista for coffee, when one of the girls (a blond) is suddenly unaccounted for. They go around asking everyone about her and suddenly (as dreams do) they are in front of a store (like a Seven Eleven or AM PM) and they approach a man in a car who appears to be Middle Eastern. They describe their friend and it just so happens that this guy works in the White Slavery trade. He thinks they are undercover cops, they have no idea what he does for a living and suddenly there were car chases and guns blazing and then my ALARM WOKE ME UP!
I was like, no fucking way, what happened to her? What happened to the friends? Did they ever find out what happened to her? Did that guy kidnap her or did she get lucky and hook up with a stranger while on vacation?
This is just devastating. I have to know how the story ends. Preita, can you tell me how it ends? And Lisa and Sandy, I am so jealous you two have iPhones and can now form your own cult with cool outfits and secret handshakes. Okay time to make French bread and start on the Gumbo.
Posted by Becky on August 20, 2009
I drove directly home tonight (my Friday, your Thursday) dog-assed tired. I’m talking too-tired-to-fucking-knit, tired. My idiot bell on my dashboard chimes in that I need diesel so I pull into the Shell on Los Posas (Being trained like Pavlov’s dog, when I hear a bell chime I perform like a trained monkey)
Now, I normally go to Chevron where I get into altercations with assholes over why I won’t pull forward because they don’t understand the concept of diesel trucks and green handles, it’s just complicated, but like I said, I was tired. I put my card into the slot, something says “Hello” which was unsetteling and a commercial for Shell starts to play on the TV monitor at the pump. Really? You think a monitor showing commercials about gas is necessary at a gas pump? Then suddenly like a news flash I get told to see the attendant. And like the trained monkey I am, I go and there is Jahne (that’s what it said on her name tag) , she asked for my card and what pump number and away I go. I did manage to knit a few rows while waiting for the truck to fill up. So, I have that going for me, which is good.
The pump shuts off at $81.41, I toddle on over to collect my debitt card and receipt and be on my merry fucking way. You would think, right? After several attempts at PIN entries and what not Jahne determines my card is no good and asks, “Do you have another card?” No ”Do you have any cash?” WTF? No, I don’t have any cash because if I did we wouldn’t be dickoig around with this fucking card. She swiped my card repeatedly and when I offered to write her a check you would have thought I had tried to rob the place. “No! No checks!” Hit the deck!
Okay, I then offered to go all the way to the bank and come back with her money. I know that sounds fishy, but I was sincere. She then tells me they have an ATM in the store and could I use that please? Fine what-fucking-ever, I’m freaking tired. So I stumble on over to the ATM and when it displays that the transaction is going to cost me $2.50 I lost it. I cancelled the transaction and said, ”are you out of your mind? I’m going to spend $2.50 to give you 80 bucks? I don’t think so.
I would have just stormed out, but that would have been stealing and I am not a criminal. I may be a cranky old lady who is unable to tolerate idiots at the end of the day, but I am not a thief. So, I tried to remain calm and think this through. How about you run it through as credit card instead of a debit card, I suggest. Or try to type the numbers instead of swiping the card. (I use to have to do that at the AFY when the back gets worn out) Low and fucking behold she tried something and whatever it was it worked. Or maybe she was bullshitting me all along. Oh, but she smiled and thanked me while the guy behind me wanted to rip off somebody’s head and wear it for a hat.
The more I thought about it the more it pissed me off that the person behind the counter wasnt able to figure out the situation. It’s her job. She should know what to do. I’ve been robbed at gunpoint working at a gas station and knew what to do. Be polite, hand over the money, remember to sound the silent alarm, Stall them without being obvious. (I offered rolled coins and he wanted them in a cigaretted carton) and the cops were there before he had a chance to walk away. She was overwhelmed by technology. I, the consumer, should not have to train or instruct her on how to make my transaction work. And it probably isn’t even her fault. Someone put here there all alone and most likely didn’t properly train her.
Then later on this evening I went to pay some bills online and I have TWO transaction for $81.41 each and one for $10.00 from Shell on my online bank statement. WTF was the $10 for?
Now, I’m mad. I’m so mad, I just lost my train of thought or maybe the train doesn’t even stop here anymore. This is not the end of the world, it’s fixable, but this is the kind of shit that is wearing me down. Kaiser owes me $900 because someone didn’t know how to add and now Shell has potentially billed be twice for one tank of gas.
I’m beginning to wonder if it is me or is this what Ted Kaczynsky was ranting about?
Posted by Becky on August 16, 2009
Well, what can I say about Darwin that hasn’t already been said except we are not seeing eye to eye these days. He chewed a whole in John’s beanie that I knit for him. One of my first knitting projects. He chewed up Joseph’s baseball cap which was on my desk. He knocked over a potted plant in the back yard, breaking the pot and then decided to eat the plant which I found withered in the sun. He took a tube of hemp lotion that was on my desk and ate it, which as we all know, is a gateway lotion. Darwin is a counter surfer! I have never had a dog that did that other than the time Blue stole butter and I blamed it on Jacob who thought I was on glue. And now he has taken to stealing my dish towels that hang from the refrigerator handle and stove. Darwin, not Jacob.
The towels and his ears flap in the wind as he runs around the back yard with Ziva chasing behind him barking her head off. I’ve even had a heart to heart with Hank asking him to teach his damn kid some manners. He said,” practice what you preach, lady”. So true.
Then I took Darwin on a walk. Or rather attempted. He is not use to the leash yet and he reared like a horse when I put the collar on him and managed to pull a Houdini in the front yard and ran around the neighborhood. I went and bought a Houdini proof dog collar and he got out of that too! I need the dog whisperer!
Jacob called today and put in his order for Sunday supper. Well, isn’t that special? He stated he would like a REAL Sunday supper. I asked what that might be and he said something with mashed potatoes and gravy. Real mashed potatoes. I reminded him I don’t make potatoes from a box. And then he stated he wanted white ( milk) gravy. So I said I’d make chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, gravy (with milk) and corn. Then he tells me he wants sausage in the gravy. WTF? You don’t put pork in a beef gravy! I’m telling you the boy is mad. (I hope it’s just the August heat) You know what, Darwin’s not so bad after all. Jacob’s lucky he had my grandchild or I probably wouldn’t let him in my house anymore. Tell me how to make gravy! What fucking nerve!
Oh, for all you spinners out there a co-worker of mine has a cousin who has a farm, Painted Knoll Farm. He thought they sold yarn so he gave me their business card. Anyone ever heard of them? They have Shetland Sheep and they are so cute. I wish they did sell yarn. I do love my independent shopping.
And speaking of independent book stores (oh, nice Segway) I have good news. I went to the Bookworm and met the new owner. Her name is Connie and she seems rather nice. She is going to move the store to the Ralphs’ shopping center at the end of September and they are going to have a Childrens’ Story night! I can’t wait to take Eli to that and that should make a much nicer location. Close to Star Bucks and more visibility. I hope she makes it.
I’m reading something write now that I am really enjoying and that’s all I got to say about that.
I haven’t been very diligent with my blogging. Work is taking a toll on me these days. Why, I can barely manage to keep up with the chores on my farm on Facebook!
Okay, time for bed because I’ve got potatoes to peel and dogs to chase bright and early in the morning.
Posted by Becky on August 9, 2009
It’s 8:30 on a Sunday night and I’m exhausted and I want to know where the hell did my weekend go?
We had a funeral on Friday. Lil John and Jackie’s great grandmother passed and Lil John was one of the pall bearers and Jackie read from the bible. It was a beautiful Catholic service, complete with bag pipes ( she was born on St. Patrick’s Day. I mean, how Catholic can you get, the monsignor pointed out.) Then we drove to Santa Barbara for the burial and then on to Goleta to meet with her family and celebrate her life at a house on top of hill that overlooked the ocean and was surrounded by acres and acres of avocados. It was a beautiful day and even though it was John’s ex wife’s family, they were all happy to see Big John and catch up and made me feel quite welcome. Although it did get complicated trying to explain to distant relatives who I actually was so Bonnie’s mom (John’s ex mother in law) decided to introduce me as Bonnie’s Wife-in-law. That really puzzled them.
Saturday, we had Eli spend the night. Miss Paris and Sandy came to visit aand that, too, was a blur. Kids have a way of doing that to you when you get older. We couldn’t get a sentence in when “Paris, keep your shoes on” or” Eli Don’t tease the dog’. Came up a hundred million times. Eli didn’t quite know what to make of a Pairs. He ignored her as much as one can ignore Paris and did nothing but talk about her all night after she left. Men!
Uncle Joseph and I are attempting to teach Eli poker. I try to make a point of playing with my grandson as often as possible with old fashioned board and card games. He would rather play on the computer, but as soon as we start one he wants to play all night. He got to play with real money so that was exciting And Joseph kept stealing his pennies so the game went on forever due to their constant counting of money. But I think it is important to play with real people and that involves getting ripped off and your ass beat (metaphorically speaking) once in awhile. Kind of a Grandma’s school of hard knocks.
Check out that poker face.
Uncle Joseph trying to explain to an 8 year old that three of a kind beats two pair pairs.
Then today we had Sunday supper. Hamhocks, beans and cornbread. Big John made my moms deviled eggs and I made my own. My mom dices up olives and I don’t to olives. So, the whole clan came over.
We played on the swings, we wrote with chalk on the sidewalk and Jacob brought over Tiger Woods Golf for the Wii. They played golf while I planted some new rose bushes and tried to salvage the succulents I planted yesterday in a pot that Darwin apparently didn’t care for my arrangement so he tore them up. That bastard! Then Baby JJ drank some water from the dog bowl and you would think he ate poison. I thought they were going to induce vomiting. Good Lord the dogs drink from that bowl every day and not a one of them has died yet.
And now on my way to crawl into bed Darwin had beat me to bed.
And here it is Sunday night and the whole weekend seems like a blur. The days go by too fast anymore. I still have gardening that I didn’t finish. Clothes that didn’t get washed. And now sister calls me and she’s moving to Tennessee in two months. She’s been telling me for two years as soon as she retires they are out of here. But it just came upon me so soon. My sister is leaving and I can’t imagine me traveling to Tennessee anytime soon to visit with her. She lives just blocks from me and we don’t visit that often because well, first we both work and second, she doesn’t knit and then a weekend goes by in a blur and you just figure you will have time later.
I think I might be sad, but I will save that for later when I have time.
Posted by Becky on August 2, 2009
I dreamt that I had a box of bones and I had to return them to the land. I walked and walked and along the way I saw my friends in the future. I saw my boss and his wife (much older than they are now) and we stood and watched a concert of music. Can’t remember who, but it was some toe tapping music, I do remember that. Marc was very happy and Edie kept giving me chocolate.
I moved on and ran into a man with one eye. He was a bit of a trouble maker, but I had business to attend, so I decided not to fight and just kept on going. I don’t remember when, but at some point the box was gone and I was relieved of my responsibility.
I then came upon a place that had secret concerts for people who just loved music and musicians who just loved to play. No money would exchange hands.
I watched Ozzy Osbourne perform and my dream ended with me head banging, my favorite pass time in high school.
It was such a good dream…
