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2006-06-29 @ 1:46 p.m.
pepper mitt to the rescue...maybe

My lovely friend “G” down in Manhattan sent me several Broadway CDs (“Sweeney Todd”-the new one with Patti Lapone, “The Color Purple” and “The Drowsy Chaperone”) yesterday. That was really nice of him. I’m using them to try and drown out the clipping noises downstairs. I was gone all day yesterday and nothing was done. And then just about 20 minutes ago the Hacker Guy banged his wheelbarrow with a shovel about 5-6 times right under my porch, as if to say, here I am. I closed all my windows and turned up my music....but not too loud, because lord knows, I don’t want anyone calling the police on me. Nothing like being a prisoner in your own house. Yay!

Yesterday I met with my case manager at noon and we discussed options. She will never tell me to do something specific like “A”. She just said if I decide to move I have to start making appointments with Section Eight now, because it takes a long time to get things situated with them. I told her I finally realized why all this was bothering me so intensely. I had had an epiphany the night before. When I was a little kid in Florida, my parents had hired this guy for maintenance and yard work. He used to watch me play out in the yard all the time. No matter where I played, he’d be standing nearby clipping bushes, always staring at me. And then finally one day he made his move. He raped me when I was 6 years old.

Yesterday one of my coworkers was kind enough to give me a brand new un-used thing of pepper spray. Its kind of funny looking. Its called: Pepper Mitt! You wear it on your hand. And its endorsed by Olympic Gold Medal Winner, Jackie Joyner-Kersee. Hey! Isn’t she like the fastest freakin’ woman in the world? Couldn’t she just like outrun some weirdo if they tried to grab her? Yes? I thought so too, but guess what the tagline on the product was? ”Sometimes you can’t run away from trouble...wear a Pepper-Mitt”. Ha! otay! I had just set the unopened package on the chair behind my computer and I looked around and Guardcat was licking the packaging.

Bad kitty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just as a treat to myself I took myself to lunch yesterday. I’ve barely been out of the house lately. I’d never do well in solitary confinement. I really didn’t have the money to do it, but I wanted to do something nice for myself. To maybe do some nurturing. It was nice. Just went to The Brooklyn Pickle and got a tuna sandwich and a big vat of tapioca pudding. Talk about good comfort food.

I had also decided not to go home inbetween. I skipped my art class last night. My mom was going to see her piano-guy friend. He’s just getting ready to move down towards Georgia and this was one of his last gigs. I haven’t been to one of his shows in a while, because being in close proximity with some of my mom’s friends had finally winked me out. I mean, I already have to listen to all their ongoing dramas on the phone everyday. All the petty disagreements, gossip and mud-slinging that goes on behind people’s backs. Its one of the few times, I actually don’t mind not having a bunch of friends, because if that’s how people act, than being alone is just fine.

But I went anyways, mainly because he was at a new venue...right at the mouth of a large river. I figured it would be restful. And it was...except for all the petty disagreements, gossip and mud-slinging. I just don’t understand what pleasure can be derived from saying, “Oh betty looks fat in those pants.” Does it really make the person saying it feel better? Putting other people down? I always hate when I’m walking with my mom and we’ll see someone really obese, and she’ll stop in her tracks and announce really loudly, “Did you see how fat that person was?” WTF? We may think that in our heads, but why announce it loudly in the middle of a store aisle. Jesus!

And I’m really thinking of writing the Pope at the Vatican for some blanket heavenly foregiveness for my mother at the way she treated the wait staff at the restaurant last night. True, they weren’t right on top of things, but honestly. I kept imagining our waitress in the back, spitting into the Penne and going, “heh. There ya stupid bitch.”

And then there was the dancing sequence with J-Nine, the NWOE (the neediest woman on earth). She has been a thorn in everyone’s side since the beginning. A Church lady with a propensity for outrageously inappropriate behavior. She does stuff for people and then announces it. Like see how holy I am? I baked 523,000 cookies for the troops in Iraq. Can the newspaper do an article about me? In other words, its not about selfless giving with J-nine. Its all about the recognition and look at me factor. And we definitely have to look at her. Why? Because she brings several changes of clothes to the restaurant. Always. And they’re always red-white-and blue, because why? Because J-Nine is the most patriotic person on the entire planet. George Bush would look like Osama bin Laden next to her.

She always tries to sit at our table, but my mom, wisely, doesn’t like her. So she sat next to us. She brings a mentally challenged lady with her. Her one-member fan club, I guess. Anyways, I looked over at her table and here is what I saw: J-Nine of course, in red-white-and blue outfit #1 with a handband that had two large jiggling antennaes with huge stars at the end. You know, like little kids wear. A large rhinestone flag pin. Huge dangly flag earrings. Red-white and blue socks. The word America in rhinestones across her chest. Her retard lady also had on the patriotic antenna headgear and a bright red pantsuit.

And then on the table she brought a large blue vase and it was filled with huge red-white-and blue flag pinwheels. She had a large glowing red-white and blue stick with a star at the end (a patriotic vibrator?). She had a large ceramic statue of Uncle Sam, which I later heard playing “God Bless America”. She had two large stuffed animals, an American eagle and a large stuffed American Flag with rhinestones. She had a big satchel filled with about 25 American flags which she would later hand out when the piano guy played some patriotic music. She tried to hand me one. I refused. I’m a hippie, not a flag waving republican. It just won’t feel right to me until Bush is out of the White House.

Sitting enjoying the music was not enough for J-Nine though. She also has dancing-feet. She has this bra with bra straps made from the same material as what makes Superballs bounce so high, like Boooinggg! Boooinggg! Boooinggg! So what does this all translate to? Dancing feet+Superball boobs? The much dreaded J-Nine Neutron Boobie Dance. Think Japanese film of Godzilla crushing buildings and cars as it rounds a corner and people running and screaming and one close up of a Japanese business man who looks directly in the camera and says “Run for your lives!!” but the lip synching isn’t quite right. Yeah, well that’s J-nine’s dancing. And people are trying to eat too. Yarg!

I did take a walk out to the docks during all the activities. I had purposely taken a seat inside facing the water and it was really nice. My mom and I had once lived on this river about 4 miles up. I loved living on it with all the herons. We even had otters which were really cute. So I went out and watched some crazy ass jet ski drivers. They were so nuts. Going about 100 mph. Standing on one leg. Driving without holding onto the steering wheel. I just watched in amazement and wondered if they were drunk or something. We used to have jet ski people down on our part of the river and when the ducks had their babies, these jerks used to aim for them. We would get so upset.

I did finally go back in because there was a huge storm brewing. Black clouds were billowing up. The wind was blowing and soon zig zags of lightening started flashing out over the river. And then came the rain. It was torrential. But nobody else really seemed to notice as they were stomping around singing “Yankee Doodle Dandy”. It was really beautiful though. And on the way home, my mom and her friend and I, inexplicably stopped at Big Dip to get an ice cream cone in the middle of Hurricane Katrina. I’m not really sure why my mom turned in, because there was severe lightening and this was just an outdoor stand with a metal overhang. I stayed in the car. I ain’t no fool. I soon saw them waving at me, but it was raining so heavily I just waved back, like “Hi, you stupid idiots out in an electrical storm buying an ice cream cone!!” But they were supposedly asking me what size I wanted. I had told my mom just a small one, but she brought me back this humongous chocolate dipped thing that was about 15 inches tall and melting everywhere. When they got back in the car, drenched, they laughingly told me they were asking me what size ice cream I wanted, small (hand gesture), medium (another hand gesture), large (another hand gesture). Oh! (?)

I finally headed home. I didn’t feel too nervous, since it was pouring rain, late and I figured Hacker Guy was probably safely tucked into his bed reading “Serial Killer Digest”, so I didn’t feel the need to put on my new Pepper Mist glove. You wanna see it? I’m like totally bitching when I have it on. Its like a prop from the movie “Rollerball”. And I can definitely see myself wearing it to the food pantry next month....

... “What did you say? I can’t have a second can of peas?” Pffffffft!!!!!!!!!! (cloud of toxic pepper spray permeates the entire pantry, as I run off in my super hero pepper spray protection gear). Yup. I think I’m gonna like having a little protection, close at hand....literally. I’m kidding about the food pantry thing of course. I’ll actually only use it on people with annoying cell phone rings.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty