August 29, 2000...1:41am
Well, I took my grandma to the hospital this
morning/afternoon. It took forever. Still, she seems much better
now that they've started to take care of her there. It's actually
quite a break for everyone in my family because this way, we know
she's being taken care of well. It wasn't so bad. I even went to
the flourist and bought her a great big sunflower to cheer up her
hospital room.
I updated my site again. The new section "all about me"
should be up in a jiffy. I just said jiffy.
I totally ditched work tonight. I don't feel bad about it at all.
I just called in and asid that I'm having a family emergency and
once I let them know that my grandma is in the hospital, they
didn't ask any questions. They don't really care anyway. My job
is not high pressure at all.
So I used my night off to take pictures of the freeway and to
watch a video. I had a great night. Not working is fun.
Anyway, there's not much I have to write right now. I'm not
feeling any extreme emotions today... I'll probably have more to
write tomorrow...
August 27, 2000...11:57pm
Well, it's Sunday which means that work starts once again...tomorrow. Luckily, my job doesn't start until one in the afternoon...so I don't really have to go to bed early or anything. Unluckily, I think I'm going to have to take my grandmother to the hospital tomorrow. I'm pretty sure she's going to have to go there and be admitted into the hospital soon. She's not able to hold any food down (or even water at this point) and she seems really sick. My dad's going to talk to the doctor tomorrow morning, then call me from work and tell me whether or not to bring her to the hospital or to her regular doctor. I'm not looking forward to it at all. I've never brough anyone to the hospital before. I've been brought to the emergency room before (freak slip on a rock head injury), but I've never done this...
Oh well, I'm going to write about something else, because if I dwell on my sick grandmother too much...I'll just get depressed. I'm really not feeling all that depressed lately though. I don't know. I'm feeling stressed out and I have my nervous thing going on, but I'm not feeling that sad. I think I just need to hang in here until the move (September 12) where I can be out of all this pressure. I feel kind of bad though. I mean, with my grandma sick and my sister a crazy hell bitch, I feel kind of guilty for just skipping on out of here and leaving all this upon my parents. Then again, they were the ones who decided to have a second kids, and they're the ones that should have to take care of her in her teenage hell bitch years. And the grandma thing, well, I'm good to her and I try to make her as happy and comfortable as possible...but the truth is, grandmas get sick and they all die. Everyone dies. I shouldn't stop my whole life just to watch it happen from a really close position.
Moving on...I think I'm going to bitch about work. Work is easy. It's so easy and I take so many breaks that I've become absolutely astounded that they pay me to do it. There's no complaint there. The main problem I have with work is that it is the most boring thing I've ever done in my life. No wait, it isn't as boring as working in the Science Library at school was (that was boring and hard work!). But it is boring. Time flys by pretty quickly there, I just get so sick of dialing a number, talking for a little while, getting rejected, making a little note on my index card of numbers, hanging up and doing it all over again. I'm only doing it for a couple weeks though. Then I'm outta here!
August 26, 2000....12:02am
WEEKEND!!!
Whoo-hoo! It's finally Friday and since I'm working now, Friday is a whole lot more meaningful than it used to be. Today was strange. I hung out around my house until it was time for work and then made a mad rish to get there on time because I hung out a little longer arguing on the phone with my boyfriend. It worked out, I guess. We're both just a little stressed about this whole moving thing, and it's going to keep driving us both a little bit nuts until we actually get there and work it all out. One thing we're worried about, out property management company says we probably can't leagally have a third roommate (which makes no sense because that way we have an extra, empty room). So, due to the extreme rent of Santa Cruz, we're going to have to sneak out friend Ben in there, whom we were planning on living with anyway. I'm fine with living with Ben, I'm just worried that we might get caught somehow and bne forced to move or something. I wish they'd just make it allowed, but no, they have to be bitchy about it. Oh well, I don't think we'll get caught. My friend, who is moving out of that same apartment so we can move it, said she had four people living there, and she wouldn't have gotten caught if her roommate hadn't been a crazy loudmothed asshole. Still, I worry a little.
Work was so easy today. The boss let us take a ridicuous amout of breaks and then let us out early with pay for the full hour. I swear, I don't understand how we make money for this place. All we do is fail at bringing in donations and break. Break break break. I'm not complaning though!
I saw The Tao of Steve tonight. It was really good. I should have a review up on my other site (http://www.megspace.com/arts/eye) by the time I get this journal up. Check it out...
A weird thing happened tonight. I asked my sister for my
Wolverine shirt that she stole from my locked trunk when I saw
her wearing it this morning. She told me that she'd give it back
tonight, which usually means that I'll never see it again. She's
taken this damn thing so many times that it's become a huge
personal issue of mine to just get it back. She never gives it
back either. She makes a huge protest and then she hides it over
at her friend's houses where I'll never see it. So when she said
she'd give it back tonight, I never really thought that she
would. So I came home tonight and I could hear my sister using
the sewing machine behind her door. I knocked and quietly asked
if I could have my shirt back like she promised.
Silence.
"Are you going to give it back?"
"I'm thinking..."
"Why did you even say you were going to give it back if you
had no intention to?"
Silence (I guess she was thinking some more)
Finally, before I blew up and got really mad, I heard some moving
around in her room, the door opened and she handed my shirt back.
"Thank you. I appreciate it," I said.
I took the shirt and locked it up in my trunk again (I got a new
combination lock that I'm very confident she won't be able to
break into) and hopefully I'll never have to go through this crap
again. It's a pretty satisfying feeling to get my property
back...
August 24, 2000...11:54pm
Wow, today's been slightly depressing.
Work was kind of bad. It was boring and easy (everything that the
job normally is), but there were a couple people out there who
were just plain mean to me over the phone. I know that I'm not
supposed to take it personally, but well, sometimes I can't help
it. Anyway, one old guy called me "baby" tonight. I
guess that's kind of funny.
I just came home and as soon as I walked in, I heard the sounds
of my grandmother moaning in agony while she threw up in her
room. I went over to her door and asked her if she was okay, and
she just told me that she felt really terrible and that she
couldn't keep anything in her stomach tonight. It sounded bad,
but she assured me that she was fine and that I didn't need to
wake up my dad to help her (which is what I offered to do for
her). Anyway, there's just something so sad and depressing about
seeing your own grandmother in pain and agony. This brings me to
my reflections on a similar subject...throwing up...
Throwing up, puking, vomitting, and so on...It's all just one
painful bad experience. I used to have this problem (luckily it
has calmed down over the past two years) where whenever I didn't
eat a sufficiant breakfast within one or two hours of waking up
(which I never did), I would get violently ill and puke all the
stomch acid and whatnot out in which case I would feel perfectly
better immediatly afterwards. This went on for years. It sucked.
You'd think that I'd just get on with life and start eating
propper breakfasts, but no, being the high school student with no
time in the mornings because my school started at 7:25am (a
ridiculously early time to suffer four years with), I very often
forgot to eat breakfast. So I'd get really sick at school and be
forced home. One time in particular (when this getting sick
without breakfast thing was a new phenomenon), I went to the
nurse's office at school because all of a sudden, I felt really
really sick (this was because I hadn't had breakfast, but I
didn't know that yet). Two or three times in the nurse's office,
I ran to the little bathroom in the corner and nearly thre up,
but I never did. I just dry heaved (a disgusting experience
because it is all the pain and truama of throwing up with none of
the relief that you get when you've finally gotten it out of your
system). So finally, they nurse called my father and released me
from school. I had one small problem...I had to drive myself
home. They offered to let me stay in the nurse's office, but
seriously, that is the worst place int he world to be sick in.
All I wanted was to get home, so I left and walked up to the
parking lot. I almost threw up in the office on my way out. Then
I almost threw up in the parking lot. Still, I never really did
throw up, therefore, I was feeling very very sick. So I got in my
car, and because I think I had a fever or something , I turned on
the air conditioning full blast. In my rush to get home and into
bed, I ignored all speed limits and common sense. I found myself
driving down this wide open forty-five mile and hour road at
about eighty miles and hour when I realized at that very instant
(no earlier, no later) that I was going to puke my guts out. So I
started throwing up. There I was, going eighty on a forty-five
mile an hour road, spillling my guts out onto the middle seat of
my car, and trying not to kill myself in a horrible wreck with
the air conditioning going on full blast. And let me tell you,
controlling a thousand pound vehicle going eighty and throwing up
don't mix. After some struggle and a lot of messiness, I managed
to pull over to the side of the road and finish emptying my
already empty stomach onto the seat of my car. Fianlly, I pulled
into muy driveway and ran inside to clean up, drink some water,
and call my dad to let him know that I made it home safely (sort
of, i guess). The worst part of the story was, after I got home I
had to go out to my car and clean it right afterwards to keep
everything from baking in the hot southern california sun. So,
that's my best throwing up story and if I offended you with my
disgusting details, sorry. I just thought I'd add something that
I consider funny to cancel out the depressing story about my
grandma earlier. I actually feel better now that I've reflected
on throwing up. I hope you do too!
August 23, 2000...11:37pm
Wow, has it been a long couple of days. I've been super busy.
I just started my new job. It is seriously the easiest job I've
ever had. Easier than the video store even! Basically, by day I
call buisinesses and ask for pledges and support of a local non
profit organization. By night, I call residences that have
supported the organization in the past. It's so easy. Seriously,
I can't believe how laid back the whole place is. The boss is so
break happy it makes work fun. "Take a break, don't get
burnt out!...Take a break, go ahead!" The boss is so nice.
He makes it worthwhile. Today everyone in the office took off
early, and the boss realized that the final Survivor episode was
going to be on, so he just let me and Jacob off an hour early,
but he told us to put that we worked until the sheduled time on
our timesheets which meant that we got paid for that hour he let
us go. He's so nice. Anyway, this job is simple, easy, and pays
pretty well. That's that.
Last night was fun. I went over to Jacob's house and since his
parents are still camping with the younger kids in the family up
in Big Sur, Jacob's older borther made margaritas for us all. It
was nice. We got drunk, watched The Real World (which is much
better drunk), and fell asleep. I woke up disoriented in Jacob's
bed with his boxers on. Weird. I think it's just funny to be able
to say, "I got drunk and woke up in another bed with someone
else's underwear on!" Actually, it was total common
sense...I spent the night in Jacob's house because I was drunk
and couldn't drive home. I needed something to sleep in, so I
borrowed a teeshirt and some boxers, which are very comfortable.
The bunk bed thing is pretty simple too...Jacob has this huge
immovable bunk bed that he's shared with his brother for ten
years. They can't get rid of it, because it's too big to move so
until he moves out, the bunk bed stays. Oh well, I thought it was
a funny story.
I'm sleepy now, and I think I'm going to sleep.
PS...Survivor's finally over...Richard won! Who says that assholes can't make it in the world?
PPS...If you're one of those people who frowns upon people like me who watch TV, or especially if you're one of those people who has a "Kill your TV" shirt of whatever remember what Malcolm in the Middle said... "TV doesn't make you stupid, it makes you NORMAL!"
PPPS...Why the hell am I writing so many "PS"'s
August 21, 2000...10:45pm
Well, I'm back from my fourth trip to Santa Cruz this summer.
This time, I left a deposit on my apartment and did the official
"walk through" with the realitor. It's nice to have a
future home. On the way up to Santa Cruz, Jacob and I stopped in
Big Sur and camped with his family for the night there. It was
boring. Camping (especially without a campfire) is really kind of
dull. Still, it was a free night's sleep and good company. That
night was awful. It was so boring that everyone decided to go to
bed at 9pm. I didn't have a problem with this because it got
really cold as soon as that sun fell behind the dark redwoods and
I, being the ditz that I was this week, forgot a jacket! So
climbing into my sleeping bag in my ultra 60's tent (I borrowed
my mom's tent, which is an actual tent with real poles and that
triangular shape that tents used to have, none of that dome crap
that they make now). I thought that since it was summer, it would
be warm. A reasonable assumption, right? (WRONG! ). All I can say
is that if I thought it was cold at 9pm, damn was I surprised
when the frigid temperature woke my up around four in the
morning! I woke up, teeth chattering and feet shivering, right
around four. I was wrapped up tightly in my sleeping bag, but it
wasn't think enough to keep me warm all night. So I tried to
snuggled under my boyfriend, who was snoring comfortably right
next to me in a much warmer sleeping bag, but everytime I shoved
myself nearer, he somehow would snore off and roll off to the
side. So there I was, four in the morning in the pitch black
night, freezing my ass off in a sleeping bag. I don't think I
ever made it completely back to sleep after that. I just kept
trying to wrap my sleeping bag tighter and tighter around me,
which never really did get me very warm. I think I'm really
sensitive to the cold. I was actually born in Detroit Michigan,
but after four years I moved to Southern California where it's
almost always warm. When I moved to Santa Cruz for school, I
thought I was just about going to die in the coastal cold. I'm
used to it now. I can handle hot hot summers and mildly cool
winters. Still, just one summer night in Big Sur left me
sleepless and frozen.
Anyway, I made it to Santa Cruz in this morning after my night in
Big Sur. I hadn't been to Big Sur in years and years, so it was
really nice to drive along the coast and see all those beautiful
rocky beaches and cliffs. The water is so blue there. I heard
that it was because the surf was so rough, but I'm not sure if I
really beleive that. Santa Cruz was damn uneventful. I'm glad
that I'm home right now though.
I complained to my father about my sister and the way she doesn't
respect my space or my property (not only do I have to keep all
my personal belongings in a locked trunk, but she borke into it
the other day!). My dad just says, "Well, Vicky is trying
real hard and she's making a lot of improvments...At least she
isn't like Natalie." Then he gets pissed at me for being
pissed at my sister for treating me and everyone else in my
family (him included) like total shit. I mena, I think if I try
really hard, I can see a little bit of my sister's improvement in
behavior, but that gives her no reason to be treated like an
angle. She still has problems and she's still really nasty to
everyone in the house. My mom understands. My mom realizes that
the fact that I have to lock up my clothing in a wooden trunk in
my closet and still have to see it stollen is ridiculous. My mom
understands that having to lock up anything like clothes up in
your own house is ridiculous. My dad just doesn't want to see
anything wrong with what my sister does. He just wants to beleive
that my sister's therapist is earning her 150 a week and that my
sister is improveing in leaps and bounds. He refuses to see
anything wrong with what my sister does anymore. It is truely
frustrating. Oh well, all I can say is...I DON'T CARE! I'M MOVING
OUT IN THREE WEEKS!!!!!!!!
August 19, 2000....10:26pm
Tomorrow I'm going to drive up North, stay in Big Sur for a
night and finally reach Santa Cruz in the morning in time to get
a cashier's check for the deposit of my apartment and sign a
bunch of stuff on a walk-through of the place. I'm haooy to be
finalizing this whole housing thing in writing, but I'm also
nervous about leaving my sister and grandmother here all day. My
parents come home tomorrow, but not until the evening. I'm going
to have to leave in the morning, long before my parents are due
back. My sister promised me that she's remember to make my
grandma some lunch, but I still feel nervous leaving my
grandmother here with only Vicky to care for her (and Vicky will
probably leave her alone in the house all afternoon). She seemed
really ill today. I left her home without anyone for a couple
hours while I went to the movies and when I got back, my sister
had come home and seemed pretty disturbed by how sick my grandma
looked. Oh well, no matter what, my parents should arrive home
just a few hours after I leave and Vicky might even stay home the
whole time.
Other than all that stuff, I've been pretty lazy this weekend. I
meant to get all this stuff done today before anything cloded and
I still never got anything done. All I did was argue a lot and
watch time slip by. Well, I think I'm going to try and make up
for the day by doing something more constructive...
August 18, 2000...12:26 am
Well, today was a day. I got a job! I went on this interview for this job at the mall and I came home really disgusted. These people told me on the first interview that I would have to wear more makeup on the job (which was sort of insulting because I like the way I look without a cake of makeup covering up my face). So I had left that first interview annoyed, but still willing to come back for a second interview the next morning (geez, how many times do they have to interview you for a stupid part time minumum wage job!). So I went to my next interview with a little more makeup on, but not much more than normal with is really natural looking. A third woman interviewed me this time (two interviewed me last time, each one saying "Ooh, I see you're not wearing much makeup, that's not going to be a problem, is it?"). Of course she mentioned the makeup thing and of course, I agreed that yes, I guess that I could wear a little more makeup. Then she went off about how important it was to wear lipstick on the job. This bugged me. You see, if you check the picture (s) of me on this page, you can see that I have very full lips. I don't need to smear them red to make them noticable. I don't even like to. I hate the way that stuff feels and it always seems to dry out my lips and make them feel puffy. Anyway, I was irritated with these women. Just because they look their age (forty-forty-five) and they try to cover it up with two inches of foundation and lipliner doesn't mean that I need to join them. Anyway, the woman went on with the interview. She asked me a bunch of bullshit questions..."What do you think makes a good salesperson?" "How do you think you would fit in with our work enviroment?" "What do you like about this store?" Of course, I smiled and nodded while I gave her my standard answers to every retail job... "You must not by shy (smile, nod). You need to have confidence in the products you are selling. (another smile, maybe a little tilt of the head). Blah blah blah (smile and nod again)...bullshit bullshit blah blah blah... (quick smile and a jerk of the head for emphasis). I just sat there, reciting the regular stuff that all these managers in the retail world have scripted witht heir boring standard questions. I just say the right answer, and they smile, maybe write down a little note here and there. All these people ask the same things. They think that because they "manage" some crapass store in the mall that they have the right to treat some kid interviewing for a five dollar an hour job as though they were applying to work for the CIA at 200,000 a year. Nobody really cares. It doesn't (and shouldn't) really matter if I have lipstick on and if I "love" the store I work for. It helps when you like the store, but for a part time minimum wage kind of deal it really isn't going to make the world of difference. So anyway, she's talking about link selling and how important it is that I not be shy when she says (almost out of nowhere) "...and your hair..." My hair? I thought my hair looked fine today. It was nice and clean, burshed very6 nicely and pulled back into a bun with a little bit falling out at the top (the way everyone does their hair there days!). "You can't come to work with your hair like that," she says. "Well sell hair products here also, so your hair must look nice too..." This would have been okay is I still had fire red streaks in my hair and I hadn't washed it for three or four days, but my hair did look nice! It's all one color now and I wash it (like most people) every morning. After this lady attacked my hair I took notice of her's. It wasn't all that nice. It was stringy and had pathetic curling iron culrs at the bottom to try and make it appear more "full and bouncy." To me it just looked stupid and phoney. After this woman said this (as if the whole ongoing makeup thing wasn't insulting enough) I became furiously annoyed. Of course, I didn't show it. I just smiled and nodded and said the same old interview script that I've known since I was sixteen while I thought about what an ass this woman was. I thought about what asses all these women were. I even made a mental note to thank my parents when they got home from their vacation for sending me to college so (hopefully) I don't have to work a job where my hair isn't "nice" enough. Anyway, I found out that I got a job telemarketing for non-profit organizations with better pay than this lousy soap/lotion/makeup/every other piece of useless crap that they make women think they need store that doesn't like my hair! You know what? I feel a lot better about myself taking this job than the stupid retail one. It pays better, it's easier, it's got better hours, and I don't have to deal with a bunch of mean dryed up forty year olds who tell me I'm not good enough to work with them without makeup and curled frizzy hair. Everyone says that telemarketers are the worst people in the world, but I swear, it can't be worse than smilinig and nodding and pretending to a bunch of sick people like those women. The sickest thing of all is that this store has all these little inspirational posters and messages in their store that say stuff like, "Love Your Body" "Be Natural" and "There are 3 Million Women Who Don't Look Like Supermodels and their are Only Eight Who Do...Be Yourself." For a place that is "promoting" these values, they sure don't follow them. All they do is try and make women insecure enough to think that they need all their overpriced products....
August 16, 2000...11:42pm
Well, my parents left for their vacation this morning and until now, I thought it was a good thing. I've come to realize that thme being away and leaving me to "babysit" my 16 year old sister is not a good thing at all. Because they don't want her to know that I'm "babysitting," I have absolutely no authority over her. Therefore, I cannot properly "babysit." So my sister decided to have her loser friends over to spend the night and they just disgust me. I don't know, maybe I'm being judgemental, but these girls (and I use the term "girls" very loosely) just gross me out. They both have bad haircuts and a sick sense of what I can only regard to as humor. They just smoked out in my backyard too. They also drew a bunch of perverted doodles all over a notebook onthe coffee table and left them out for everyone to have to find. It isn't even the content of the drawings that makes me ill, it's the lack of tallent involved in them. They're a bunch of bad bad bad drawings of naked women (with "wide open beavers," as Vonnegut calls them in Breakfast of Champions, the greatest picture book ever made). Anyway, these friends just really disgust me for some reason. It's probably the combination of their icky dirty apprearnces and their disgusting no-tallent drawings. The drawing were really badly done too. Bad art is inexcusable.
August 16, 2000...12:27am
Well, today, a day that (if you read yesterday's entry) I was
expecting to be awful was actually a great day. First, I slept
in! Sleeping in is great. I mean, I only slept in until 10am or
so, but it was nice. Usually, I have to get up and go to work or
drive my grandma to the doctor or something, but today, I slept
in. Then I took my sister to her counselor and dropped her off,
making the house nice and quiet when I got back. Eventually, I
got started on the day and went out job hunting.
I actually got one interview scheduled for tomorrow to try and
work in a nice little store in the mall. I also (forgive me
world) applied to a job telemarketing for a nonprofit
organization (funny, it's non profit, but technically I would get
paid a lot more than I could get elsewhere). Hey, telemarketers
are the spawn of Satan as far as I'm concerned (I even hung up on
one later today), but I need some extra money, fast. So anyway, I
finally got on the job hunt thing (my job now just doesn't give
me enough hours to make any money). \
Later today, I ran into an old friend of mine. We actually stopped being friends on kind of bad terms (long story) and we haven't really seen eachother for a couple years (minus a couple weird brief runins). But I saw her today and I talked to her a couple minutes and she seems to be doing well. I don't know why, but that made me feel pretty happy. Maybe it made me realize that I didn't ruin her life when I decided to stop being friends with her years ago. I don't know.
Oh yeah, and early this morning my grandma came back from the doctor's where she had gotten her test results back and informed us all that she was doing much better than expected. She still has cancer, and it's still a big problem, but she's not at the point where it is hopeless to treat. Upon hearing this news, my parents decided to go on their vactaion (at least what's left of it now) after all. They're driving to Utah (Zion National Park) tomorrow morning for a hike on Thursday to be followed by a three day dose of Vegas. I'm glad. They needed the break.
Then in the afternoon, after I hung up on the telemarketer, I got a call from the new property management company that I'm dealing with. (See July entries to learn about what a bitch the old one was). The woman calling (in charge of the property I wanted) informed me that the credit check went through and that I can come up on the 21st to leave a deposit! I'm so excited and relieved about this. I just can't wait to move in (september 12 or so). I'm just so amazed that I actually found exactly what I was looking for in the Santa Cruz market! I wouldn't have been able to find it if it weren't for my friend who is living there now. She was nice enough to let me know that she was moving before they got the property even on the market, allowing me to get there first! On top of that, my mom agreed to help with the deposit, taking a huge financial pressure off of me and Jacob. We're both so excited about moving up now...
It's just like everything turned out today. Everything came through. I can't believe that I've had such a great day. Just reading my last entry makes me laugh about how off I was in my predictions.
August 15, 2000...1:34am
I started to look for a new job today. I hate looking for jobs. I'm way too picky and I always end up refusing to apply to a lot of places. I'm waiting on this apartment thing too. So far, the credit check just has to go through and then I've got myself a nice place to live. I'm excited about that, but no matter what, I can't move out until September 11 or 12...
A lot of other stuff happened today.
For one thing, my sister got a call from an (ex) friend who
had just recently run away from home. This girl said that she was
going to hitch from Santa Cruz all the way back down to the LA
suburb where she lives. My sister just shrugged her off and
ignored the call because she has recently made a choice to stay
away from this "friend." So time goes by and we forget
about the strange phone call... Later that day (actually, it was
about ten thirty at night), we get a phone call from the
California Highway Patrol saying that my sister has been found
walking along the 101 in Ventura (twenty-five minutes from our
city) and that someone would have to pick her up at some gas
station where they were parked. So my parents basically freaked
out, because they had thought that my sister was at a friend's
house in town. So my dad rushes off to pick her up about fifteen
minutes out of town. My mom is upset, wondering if my sister has
gone totally nuts or got on some heavy drugs or something strong
enough to make her WALK on the four lane freeway when the phone
rings. I answer and it is my sister asking for a ride home.
"Dad just left to pick you up about ten minutes ago..."
I say to her.
"What?!" The shock in her voice was so obvious. It was
like a bad movie.
I explain to her what happened and she talks to my mom,
convincing her that she has been nowhere near Ventura, let alone
the 101. She has been at the friend's house the whole time. So
after a little thought, I put together this friend's hitching
journye and my sister's name and telephone number and I realize
what probably happened...
This friend was hitching on the 101 (and didn't have the common
sense to stay on the on ramps) where she was picked up by the
CHP. Rather than giving her real name and phone number, she gave
my sister's to avoid calling her (whom I think is abusive)
father. So after half and hour or so, my dad returns and confirms
that yes, it was this friend, and yes, she did lie to the CHP.
They had it all figured out when my dad got there and they had
searched this friend's purse and found IDs with another name on
them. Everyone was relieved but the situation is still so
upsetting...
This girl is 16. I think she has an abusive father and her
sibblings are always getting into trouble to the point where they
are on the run from the law. When my dad pulled up to the cop
cars he went straight to the car and looked inside. First he felt
relief when he saw that the girl inside wasn't my sister, but
then he was shocked by the state of the friend, who he
recognized. This girl was strung out on heroine or crack (the
cops couldn't tell). She had open sores all over her face anf
mouth and she was shaking uncontrolably. The police there said
that she had pills on her and that she had said that she thought
she had AIDS. My dad talked to the cops for a little, telling
them about the girl and warning them that he strongly suspected
that she had an abusive home-life (they weren't surprised). The
cops said that there was basically nothing they could do. The
girl was 16 and her parents had full control over her. If they
took her to jail, she would be given right back to her parents
because she was such a strung out mess. The only way she can get
any help is if her parents take her to a rehab center. No matter
what, her abusive father is on his way to pick her up and they
cannot stop him from taking her (even if he really does abuse
her). It seriously makes me sick to think that there is nothing
this girl has to help her. The police are very aware/suspicious
that she's being abused by her father and they know that she is
on heavy drugs in a downward spiral. The cop even told my dad
that if she doesn't get any help, she'll almost certainly be dead
in five years. Still, there's nothing they can do but give her
back to her father and hope he can afford to take her to rehab or
something. It just sucks. I thought that there were programs for
this kind of trouble. I thought that if you were abused when you
were under 18, that you could find help and treatment. My mom
called a couple abuse hotlines and asked what to do. All they say
is that the parents have to sign her over to a free halfway house
kind of deal, but if the parents refuse, there's no help for the
child. It's just a sick, sick world.
On top of hearing about this poor girl, I also have other bad news to face tomorrow. My grandmother has breast cancer (for the second time). She's been real sick lately (weird problems that are probably caused by the cancer moving into a new stage). Last week she had a bunch of tests done to see how far the cancer has spread and the results are coming back tomorrow morning. From the health problems she's having, I'm pretty sure they're going to be bad. My parents even cancelled their vacation (which they really NEED and deserve) to stay home and help her handle whatever the result is. She might give up fighting the cancer, depending on the news. I just don't know how I'm going to react if I find out that she's going to die soon. I don't even know what to say to her about that.I want to support whatever she chooses to do, whether it's fighting the cancer with more kemo and more radiation thereapy or if it's just give up and try to enjoy the last bit of life. I don't know what to do though. How are you supposed to react to this kind of thing?
This is just too heavy of a day...
August 11, 2000...11:18pm
damn, I just spent the last hour fighting with Jake. It is now August 12, 12:29am. It's funny, we don't fight fight, like most couples, we just get more and more negative about everything until we get so tired that we have ti stop. I'm sick of it though. I'm planning on doing my parents a favor by watching my sister, driving my sister around, driving and feeding my grandma, and taking care of things in general while they go on vacation for the next week. I agreed to do it for my parents as a favor, but they offered to pay me somemoney for doing it. It's going to be tough though. I have to try and balance working with driving my grandma to the hospital every day of the week. Of course, somehow this gets twisted up and ends up being an addition to the war Jake and I were having.
That's another thing, we just went up to Santa Cruz and actually found a very promising apartment lead. While we were there, Jake and I were totally excited about it. We pretty much have the place as long as our credit checks out. The only thing is, it is a two bedroom, and they are (as of now) only allowing two of us to move in (not three, like we would prefer). Once we get the lease signed, we can try and propose another roommate (or sneak one in anyway), but the main point is, it will be just the two of us for the deposit and the first month's rent. Everything seemed okay until we get home, when all of a sudden he decided the whole thing is a horrible idea. It's truely depressing. I mean, all of a sudden, this perfect find that we got extremely lucky with is just another bad idea. I still want the place. He does too, but now there's money involved and that's too much for us to handle without an argument over the phone, which eventually leads to hurtful comments and so on and so on. I don't know. It just feels like nothing is good enough for him anymore. Everything is my fault...school, work, living, and a night's sleep. All of it.
I can't stand this right now. I'm just angry and nervous. What can I do? What's going to happen with this living situation? Why is it that I finally seem to get a break and I get this weird two faced reation. First we're slapping high fives about our great luck, then we're fighting about it on the phone. I just need something to be a gaurentee in my life right now. I don't feel like anything is here to stay. I just want the next two months of my life to be planned and taken care of for once.
There's another damn irritation. My unaware sister somehow got it into her head that while I was in Santa Cruz these last couple of days, she could just come watch TV in my room and make herself comfortable. I don't understand why she did that because she has a TV in her room. Of course, she can't just watch TV in my room, she has to drink soda and eat god-knows-what. And of course, cleaning up isn't an option. So I get home to find a half empty can of 7-Up in my room attracting a nice little line of ants that seem to be EVERYWHERE, There aren't too many of them, but they are here, which is bad enough. They're just walking along, scattered about the floor and even on my desk. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of everything right now. I should be happy and I should be excited about my new housing prospect, but now I'm just worried that I'm going to get into a downward spiral of trouble over it. As long as I can keep sane while my parents are on vacation and this apartment thing is going through, I think I'll manage...
August 8, 2000...11:19pm
Well, today was my birthday and I actually had a really nice time. I decided that since I am now twenty years old, I should do something for my step toward being more of an adult...so I went to the zoo, the most childish fieldtrip place on earth. Actually , I love the LA zoo. There's no better place to spend a day when you feel up to walking around and enjoying the outdoors. Besides, there is this new Red Ape exhibit (Orangutans) that I wanted to see. Even though I had a really good time (most of it spent snapping some pictures with my giant heavy telephoto that I drug around with me all day!), there are certain part of the zoo that depress me, therefore I must complain about them...
People. The way people act is so depressing. People (especially children) are obnoxious and have no respect for the poor endangered animal in front of them. The worst thing is when kids scream and shout at the resting animals, trying to make them "do something." No wait, the worst is when parents just ignore their kids while th ey yell stupid monkey noises and barks at a gorilla who's looking out to the crowd, wondering what the hell is going on. I just don't understand that. Why the hell do parents let their kids be so rude and mean to the animals? I actually saw one kid hop the wall into the tortoise area and run around looking for them IN THEIR PEN! The parent just said "Oh, honey, come back here..." but never did anything. Nevermind the fact that the kids could have squashed a poor turtle or something because he was taking over their pen like it was his own personal playroom!
Oh yeah, and people are stupid and annoying too. I actually heard one woman complain because the rhino was facing away from the viewing area to eat his food. She said, "Why can't they just turn around so we can look at them!" First of all, the animal is there to be observed, but not to be your own personal lapdog. Second of all, IT WAS EATING ITS FOOD! God, next they're going to want the bear to be trained to dance and sing for them...
Another thing, a lot of these zoo people were just rambling off a bunch of uneducated nonsense to their kids. In the Orangutans exhibit, this woman kept telling her little boy... "Look at that MONKEY. He's just sitting there wondering why the HELL he's here. He's thinking, 'I was just swinging through the trees when somebody caught me and put me in this CAGE!" First of all, the animal was not a monkey, but an Orangutan. It was obviously not a male because it lacked the huge sacks of flesh that hang off the sides of male Orangutan\rquote s faces (something this woman could have learned in three seconds from the informative plaque if she'd taken the time and effort to read it). Third of all, the animal was not caught in a jungle somewhere and brought to the zoo. She had been breed in captivity as some sort of part of a breeding program to preserve life and give it a habitat that won't be burnt to the ground by McDonalds the next day. This brings us to point number four...it wasn't in a cage! They just build the "Red Ape Rainforest," a very specialized habitat for them to live in. Anyway, maybe I'm being a little too picky, but I hate it when stupid people pollute the minds of others.
Of course the zoo still has its good elements. One thing I saw that amazed me was in the nursery of the zoo. There, they were raising eight-month-old chimps with their zookeeper. The woman who was their zookeeper was in the room with them, playing with them like a mother would. She treated them the same way a human mother treats her human baby. The acted jus t like human babies, playing with her as if she were their mother. I think chimps are cuter than humans because I actually liked watching these little guys climb around and hang to their "mother's" body (not like the kids I saw in the zoo). I took a whole bunch of pictures and maybe I'll put them up when I get them developed...
Other than the zoo, I also got taken out to dinner by my best friend Evan. We went to a "classy" French place with funny waiters (who I kind of made fun of) and good dessert. I had a good time and I even got a candle in my orange sorbet. Birthdays are weird. They used to mean something every year...driving, rated R movies without all the hassle, voting and sex with anyone you wanted (not that that matters in the real world anyway, bu t it is still a right that you get at 18), now it is only "not being a teenager" but that doesn't really count as anything. The only thing left is drinking and Las Vegas gambling next year and then there's no more. The birthdays will just mean another year . There's nothing wrong with that at all, but I just like to ponder the whole idea. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm officially twenty and that's that.