It is pretty obvious, I only write these blog posts when ticked off... and most typically, recently ticked off. The most common ways for this to happen include waking up with inexplicable rugburn, bruises, scrapes, whiplash, or medicine-headedness. There is a particular type of medicine-headedness that is associated with certain "short-term amnesia" substances that I know will show up in my hair. I have already been through this, but to reiterate, if you take a hair from the follicle, you can know on what day a certain substance was introduced to the body. So, that typical type of medicine-headedness really ticks me off.
What ticks me off even more often is when people flirt with me in a degrading or demeaning manner... like last night. Oddly, to keep this from happening, quite a while back I placed a flower in my left ear and started telling everyone that I am waiting for the day I can finally have a conversation with Mr. Johnny Depp. After all, my unfounded belief that he is the love of my life is my favorite and most enduring delusion of grandeur. Well, as I said, socially-incapable people kept ticking me off all night last night. Don't worry, there were some treasures of civilized social interaction in there... for example, Sistas in the Pit playing at the Grant & Green while the Federer vs. Murray 2010 Australian Open Men's Final played on the TV and while I danced. I also met a lovely bartender named Alex at the Steps of Rome Cafe. However, among the other people roaming about North Beach last night, there was enough stupid to make me hop online today and write even more innflamatory honesties.
A fine example is the bassist for the jazz band that plays at MELT! on Saturday afternoons. I should know his name; I am, afterall, amazing with names and faces, but for some reason his name did not register with me as important enough to make an impression. Well, my first conversation with him included his telling me that I need to learn how to keep a beat. That, I have noticed, was the only sincere thing he has ever said to me. Yesterday, he gave me a snide and condescending statement of how being of sound mind, body, and soul was the only healthy way to be. It ranked right up there with brilliant things people have told me, such as "You have a pretty face; at least you have something going for you in life."
My mom called me earlier today and told me she was visiting my little sister in the Twin Cities. My little sister bought a house in West St. Paul in 2008. She has had an untreated mental health concern since she was in high school, and I am always releived when they take an interest in her well-being. Along those lines, I informed my mom that I did actually file paperwork for my Power of Attorney responsibilities a bit after I returned from Mexico City in October. That was also after I had become a legal California resident, again. She asked me who it was, and I asked her why she was so concerned. Then I reminded her to make sure their house in Iowa does not burn down. After all, most of my childhood toys and objects are still in that house. This made her nervous. I didn't think it was so weird; I have long suspected she has a nervous condition... My sister once told me Mom has a heart condition. It could not be at all aided by living with my dad while he hears security alarms that are not really there. Huh, I wonder how many of my childhood memories are among my dad's belongings in the basement. My mom asked me if she could mail me cookies. I do not know why many things go on in this world, but I have some suspicions that my parents just got something in writing.
Considering my family's odd behavior lately, including my older sister who lives in Los Angeles, I hope we know to whom that house and all of its belongings will be left if something happens to their health. They even gave away our childhood piano last summer, much to my dismay and concerns about their just letting the antique move on to another person's house. Well, since when is one piano something to worry about... It was when my little sister stopped by to pick up memorabelia from her time in high school that I probably should have worried.
It is not so irrational as other things I have seen happening around me since hmmmm.... at least before I was hospitalized in the Twin Cities in May. It seems people are just terrorized lately. They live in terror of something. I wonder if terrorism works to make people civilized, courteous, and self-educated... or does it work more along the lines of making people speak irrationally, behave physically confrontationally, or even commit crimes.
It seems I have been making some people on some other coast nervous lately. Am I right about something I shouldn't even know in the first place? I wonder how long this certain subset of the US executive branch is going to keep trying to make other people their patsies.