Gooey gooey gumdrops

Aunt Phlo M. Sucketh, the vindictive wench, has sucked all the energy out of me today. I get exhausted walking up the stairs and have to take massive naps to just get through the day. Poo on her. On a lighter note, I finished my book on the Russian spy. Really good. Rekindles my interest in politics again, but unfortunately I won't be able to get into school until August, hopefully that is. Now I've started a book on Bonnie and Clyde. Oh, books. You are my salvation!

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?

Aunt Phlo M. Sucketh is kicking down the door and I'm afraid I have no choice but to let her in. I had such a horrible week this past week, but after a very long night of praying, I FINALLY felt a bit of peace. Then Aunt Phlo decided to make me feel like crap today, so I spent most of it sleeping. I made sure Olive had lunch, then took a nap, then made sure she had dinner and her pills, then needed to sleep again. Now I'm hungry, which is better than feeling nauseated. I feel bad that she was pretty much alone all day, but I really needed the rest. Consequently, there's pretty much nothing to put in my blog. I'm reading a book called "Comrade J: The untold secrets of Russia's master spy in America after the end of the Cold War." It's amazing! I feel bad for the Russian people, having such corrupt leaders and consequently being so far behind the rest of the First World countries. I'm sure the government doesn't mind them being behind. Russia has incredible strength and resources and if they got their crap together, they'd be more powerful than the US. (Same goes for Brazil.) But the book goes into detail about the kinds of information stolen and who gave it to the Russians and all that. Apparently many of the people who have passed information are still in their government jobs and of course denied the book's contents. So exciting this book.

My Shopping Spree!

My two new shoes! The pair on the right looked Mediterranean. Not so long ago I would've thought they were old lady shoes.
These are cute with jeans!
My new shirts!
On the edges of one shirt.
New earrings and new ring.
Baby shoes I bought for Kendra's baby!

Stoned Italian Cowboys

I think I was Buddhist in a former life. I really hate the snails here, but when I accidentally step on one, I feel like such a terrible person. And the lizards are annoying little buggers, but I seeing a dead one makes me ill. I can't kill bugs, except flies and mosquitoes, and I CERTAINLY can't kill anything else, although today was a really bad day and I about wanted to throttle Olive. I have sooooo given up trying to keep the house decently cleaned (as I may have mentioned before) and it is getting extremely hard to not say something when she whines about people or money or on and on and on.
There's really nothing to put in the blog today. I'm almost finished with a book entitled "Ireland's Pirate Queen: The True Story of Grace O'Malley". She sounds like an awesome person, but the book really makes you dislike the English. They've caused a lot of problems, haven't they?

Today's favorite song: Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Awesome!!!!!

Don't pluck eyebrows when hopped up on Dr. Pepper

This afternoon Olive wanted to walk around this dog park she used to take her dog to. I thought, okay why not, and drove the short distance. As soon as I got out of the car, my nose was assaulted by the stench of dog poo in various stages of decay (or perhaps it was the smelly children in various stages of play?). There is a sidewalk around the outer edge of the park, with benches and two water fountains. Behind us was an elderly, very white man walking with a young black guy, who looked as though he was trying to down play his ghetto past. You know the type, awesomely styled hair like Jamie Foxx used to have (not cornrowed, but like ity-bity dreds). He had the oversized collared shirt hanging untucked over conservative shorts and tennis shoes. It was an interesting combination. They didn't walk very far, and the white guy was doing the driving. I like noticing little strange things like this.
As I was eating dinner, I was watching the rabbits eat the grass outside. Then I see this teeny-tiny little bunny, so small it could fit on my hand, come out of the bushes and start to eat. It was soooo cute! I hate how the rabbits strip the yard, and Olive hates them with a passion, but I can't chase them away. They're just trying to survive. How would I feel if some great beast kept chasing me away from the kitchen every time I tried to eat?
Did I tell you a bird flew in the house last night? Olive was on the phone and sat there laughing with Dorothy about my laughing/shrieking. Olive said, "I once had a rat in the house that bit my toe, so this isn't so bad." That was not encouraging.
Have you ever read the term "ghosting through the building" or something like it? I love the term, very descriptive, but this morning I actually saw it in action. I was at Ralph's picking up some groceries and glanced down the aisle just in time to see a tall man with very white hair float across my line of vision. At first I thought he was an albino and it was rather creepy how he seemed to just float. I wandered to the end of the aisle and down a bit to find him again to gawk. I admit, I wanted to stare just a few seconds at someone with albinism. I found the man, but he wasn't an albino, he just had white hair. Odd looking man, but it was still cool to see someone "ghost" through a store.

Bugs Bunny is a jerk

A bird just flew into the kitchen, with a little green worm in its mouth. This is why marriage is ordained of God-because men need to deal with gross things like this while the woman stands clear imagining the bird pooping on her head or getting all Alfred Hitchcock. Perhaps the bird was after my fresh Hawaiian Sweet Bread loaves. They turned out muy excellente! Something not so excellente? Today's shopping excursion. Olive has wanted to get a "funny birthday card" for Dorothy. The FOUR aisles at Target couldn't satisfy her, nor could the TWO aisles of cards at CVS pharmacy. Instead, we had to walk down the street to this dumpy Jewish mailing service and look at their selection of 10 cards, because that's where she always gets her cards. It was not a fun day. Call me crazy, but just because you're old doesn't mean you've "earned the right" to be snarky. You earn the increased patience of others, but you don't have free reign to be mean or demanding or all the other vices no one allows in younger people.
As I was cutting some potatoes to make Parmesan Potatoes for dinner, I realized that I don't like the "Butt Ends" of things. Bread, potatoes, sausage, bananas, hot dogs, etc. I always cut them off or leave them. Why is that I wonder?
I've had to watch Olive every time she gets near her mail. You see, there is a wonderful lady in the ward that comes over every week or two and goes through the mail and explains the bills and writes the checks and generally does all the finances. Olive, however, tends to open the bills and peer at them through her magnifying glass, even though she knows she can't see. If she thinks what she is looking at is unimportant or she doesn't understand it, she tears it up and throws it away. Today she tore up a big bill from her accountant and she was trying to tear up some very, very important papers for her husband's trust. Margo has told her that she tends to throw important things away and that she shouldn't throw anything away, just in case, but....So I went through some of the things she had bundled together and labeled "Davis" and found some things for the trust (not Davis's). She said something about having Margo just pay Davis's bills so they stop getting sent to the house and I said, nicely, "He's an adult. He needs to learn to take care of himself." She said, "He doesn't have any money." I bit my lip to not reply. First of all, don't get me wrong. Davis has been really, really nice and I'm so grateful. However, if he can afford a brand new iPad ($500) and applications ($10-20) then I'm pretty sure he can help with his bills. I don't begrudge people getting help from family, that's what family is for, but when you're too lazy to take care of yourself? I have a problem with that. She keeps worrying (surprise surprise) about him getting work so the studio she put money into will pay off. Yeah, about that. In order for things to happen down there, he should probably spend more time promoting it and finding clients than getting drunk and stoned with friends. This sounds terribly snarky and ungrateful of me, I know, and forgive me. I just find it very frustrating to watch certain types of people get an easy life handed to them, and then there's those of us who struggle to put food in our mouths. I would love an iPad. And a car. And a nice apartment. And to not worry about financial things 24/7, but I'm not about to bleed an old woman dry for it.
The missionaries came over Sunday night because I'd asked for a blessing at church. Poor boys. They probably have better things to do, but I couldn't get by without them. They're like watching a couple of children sometimes and it makes it like I have a family out here, instead of being stuck with a depressed stroke victim without relief. They always show up at the moment I need them most and they always have the perfect thoughts and scriptures I need to hear. So I told them what has been going on lately and asked for advice and what not and told them what I've been doing to fix things. There's always that wide eyed look, the one that says "Wow, that sucks." Then slowly things start to click together. Cute little Elder Ardiles (mi hermanito burrito) gave me advice his mom gave him when he was in similar circumstances. Then Elder Hessing had a thought that he didn't know how to put into words. Finally he was like, "I can't receive revelation for you, but perhaps you're going through this because sometime in your future will go through it as well, perhaps far longer than you, but you'll be the only one they can turn to because you can say 'I know how you feel'. Maybe a child or friend or your husband." That last one made me want to throw up. That thought scares me rather a lot. He repeated again that he can't receive revelation for me, "but what I just said feels right." I trust him. I'd kinda wondered about that briefly, but considering the significant lack of inspiration/revelation/companionship of the spirit I've been enduring the past few weeks I need to hear it from someone who DOES have the spirit with them. They gave me a blessing before they left and during it their cell phone kept going off. I thought it was a little funny. But after they left I felt better than I have in a while. We'll see how the rest of the week goes.

The wreaking ball knows your secrets

As I was walking outside tonight, I found three snails huddled together on the step. As this is not usual for snails to do, I leaned over for a closer inspection and discovered that they were feasting on the squashed remains of a fallen comrade. I find this disturbing, especially since it's all being done in slow motion. You can almost hear the sucking sounds as their goo digests the rancid remains. We warn children of the Boogeyman, snails warn their young of hungry friends and neighbors. (Don't you dare stop for a minute Little Johnny, or grandma will eat you!) It also brings a whole new array of meaning to "Keeping up with the Jones'." You keep up so you can take a bite of that mushy, mucusy backside. Yum. Getting me some Snail Tail.
I tried to make chilaquiles tonight for dinner. Epic fail. I think it's because I used enchilada sauce instead of tomato sauce and salsa like I've done before. And I put Velvetta'd hamburger in it, which was a waste of yummyness. It's been a while since I've had good, spicy Mexican, which is ironic considering how close I am to Mexico. Most people joke about Mexico taking over California, but around here it's being taken over by the Jews. Not so great in the culinary department. I peer over my shoulder guiltily when I look over the bacon and sausage at the grocery store. (It's kept in the far back corner of the store, which I find funny for some reason.)
I'm enjoying driving the Mini Cooper around. I don't like Minis I have decided, but it's fun to punch the gas at stop signs and hit 40 mph in like 4 seconds. I've gotten to where I can use the back roads instead of Ventura Blvd. Some of the houses on Wells Drive look like castles or gingerbread houses or something out of posh magazines. However, I have to not pay attention to the lush, beautiful gardens because it just makes me irritated that they steal water from the parched desert (and consequently the Native people) to pretend the desert of SoCal is a jungle. All that political crap about needing more water for the burgeoning population. Maybe if people worked with their environment, instead of fighting it, people wouldn't be panicking about the lowering water levels in the Colorado River and elsewhere. Elder Ballard wrote that governments are instituted of God and men and women will be held accountable for what they do with governments and within governments. Every time I read that I think of all the people who are going to have to do some serious explaining about the disastrous policies geared towards and affecting Native people. America can gripe about Obama and his health care plan all they want, but they have NO idea how ridiculous the American politicians can be. Ironic, in a way, how mainstream America is getting a small, almost inconsequential taste of what Native people have been dealing with for centuries. They're like the wizened elders looking on at the impetuous youth, nodding, and saying, "Yes, yes. I've seen this all before."
On an unrelated note, I realized today that 100% of my PSS (Priestood Support Service) either are serving an LA mission, or have served an LA mission. Hmmmm......