Waking Up

I woke up in August 2007.

Before then,

I had a few, 'oh no....' moments, and then promptly (within 24 hours) went back to sleep.  I recall when Glass Steagall Act was repelled.  I recall when I realized the story about the kennedy assassination was total fiction.  Between all this, and a family falling apart due to a substance abusing, mentally ill spouse who liked to throw temper tantrums, and a highly stressful job, requiring my presence in two cities, about 700 miles apart by air, and two teenaged/20 something girls to keep up with, I became profoundly depressed.

I muddled through, one project at a time, enjoying the sanctuary of solitude I experienced when I traveled alone.  I became my own best friend.

Looking for a way out, I negotiated a early retirement package at age 54.  That was in late 2006/early 2007.  My last day of work as the last day of 2007, plus one business day.

But, before I retired, we went on vacation for 3 weeks, from Philadelphia to Venice Beach, CA.  His friend had a place we could stay, 1 block from the beach.  He had cleaned it for us.  Before that, it had been pretty much shut up, since the owner of the entire complex left his little 1 bedroom apartment after a substance abuse problem gone financially wrong.... long story..... his friend tried to get an OK from the owner, but got no reply, so he just broke in and started cleaning.  We stayed there about 3 or 4 nights, when the black goop began to appear in the bathtub.  It was sewage.  We had to leave, and luckily, a scam artist named Vicram took us in.  He had an extra room for George to rent in the apartment he sub-letted from a Brit who couldn't get papers to be in residence 12 months/year.  When Vicram moved on, the Brit rented the whole thing to George.  Welcome to Venice Beach.

We were there the last 3 weeks of August.  That's when I woke up. Abraham woke me up to chemtrails.  Abraham was an artist/musician/boardwalk vendor.  He was African-American, a Viet-Nam vet, a lover of birds, an accomplished drummer, feeder of the homeless through donations he assembled, and a really nice guy.  His dreadlocks gave him distinction.  He was highly political with his street art.  

One day, Abraham was pacing back and forth, up and down the boardwalk, pointing up at the sky over the Pacific Ocean, screaming, "I did not give you permission to fly and dump that crap all over us!  I do not consent!!".  I listened and watched.  
The walkway was crowded, but the bodies made a space around Abraham, because no one wanted to get too close.  Parents clutched their childrens' bodies to pull them back from the crazy man.  I looked up, and I saw them.  Chemtrails.  My world had changed.  I found Project Camelot and began watching their interviews.  I read Naomi Klein's,  'The Shock Doctrine'.

So I returned home alone, because my husband decided to stay.  I was to return to work and support him financially and however else he chose to be supported in his world to be at that moment.  It was a long, strange and very peaceful ride home.  He basically didn't want to talk to me, or to hear from me.  Told me to text rather than call, and to keep it short.

I came home to an unfinished rehab dating back to the 1740's, 2 blocks from William Penn's headquarters on the Delaware.  The refrigerator, stove and microwave were in boxes.  The sink, dishwasher [minus it's cosmetic front panel], and the counter on top were installed.  The garbage disposal worked.  This is mainly because Glenn, our plumber friend, was contracted to do the work.  The walls have a base coat of paint overtop the new sheetrock.  None of the trim is purchased or installed.  New sheetrock was mainly because Stoney, T's friend, was contracted to do the work, and he made out like a bandit.  Downstairs bathroom basically not done (- floor down/ shower plumbed.  Sink and toilet (european plumbing fixtures required) on the floor.  Raw plumbing PVC sticking out of floor.  No wall tile.)  Upstairs bathroom partially done (sink, toilet and tub work, floor done -- only sheetrock, no wall tile yet)  And the mortgage payment was only $1400 a month.  Taxes and insurance on top.  Bank accounts containing money from refinancing (to be used for rehab) are gone, and of course, no records of any significance remain.

Oh, and did I tell you about the 5 bedroom rental next door?  With a leaking skylight in the kitchen, a back yard drain that backs up and floods, and a moldy ceiling on the 3d floor due to the roof not being repaired as it should have been?  And the nut on that one was only $1500/month.  Plus taxes and insurance.  And water & sewer.  No?  OK, we can leave that story for later....

I returned to Venice Beach for Thanksgiving 2007.  I bought a MAC, and I woke up to 911.  We all sat around after eating turkey and watched 'V for Vendetta' with Natalie Portman.

....to be continued

In the Driver's Seat

I am becoming more and more annoyed each time I receive a call from someone who is behind the wheel of a car with the transmission in Drive.

This behavior puts the driver in control.  They talk and listen between the obstacles on the road, and of course they may disconnect when they choose, due to 'traffic congestion ahead', or worse yet, they continue to drive IN the congestion with cars on either side of them on the interstate, as well as in front and behind.... so I keep the conversation superficial and my sentences short.  When the sentences are long, or one after another, I get no feeling of being heard.  They become annoyed.  I hear it in their silence.