Which Reminds Me

Oh, did someone in high school present the Beatles' song "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds"? It was written by John Lennon as I recall. I don't remember if it was there or somewhere else that I heard it discussed. Anyway, of course it sort of ruins everything when someone else later points out that actually John might have been tripping out on acid and, anyway, Lucy, described as sort of an angel of light in the lyrics, might actually have been a vision of Lucifer during some drug-induced hallucination. Depending on how you interpret that. How would anyone know what that really means anyway? It would be sort of intuitive to say that it gives me bit of a chill if I think about that. So obviously I don't really need some acid witch repeating that over and over again. I don't have that in my personal collection. That might have been on one of Cori's records.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, do Roy and Vickie from Arkansas have an inside track on the Clintons? I really would not know anything about that. I never really did put any faith in politicians of either party so anything they might have said about the Clintons would not have seemed all that important to me. Caring about politicians would be to place my faith in whatever way the wind blows, which is unpredictable, obviously. Thus, nobody really cares about your inside political track of any type. Basically, I could not care less about your inside track of whatever party. Whatever.

Which Reminds Me

During my third year at SCC my roommate Cori scheduled a confrontation with me in front of the RA who was Judy Popineau. During this meeting in the RA's room Cori flipped into this bizarre rant, foaming at the mouth like a demon-possessed witch, in witch she screamed and yelled in the explaining of, basically, how much she hates me and despises me and loathes me. So my suspicions of her trashing me behind my back all over the place were thus confirmed. If Cori hated me so much why did she ask me to room with her in the first place? I really didn't need that trashy dog Cori messing up my life when I was only trying to get through college. I did not need Cori's garbage. Life is complicated enough without a trashy stupid rooommate to throw monkey wrenches at me every time I turn around.

Which Reminds Me

Oh, were Roy and Vickie from Arkansas talking about Whitewater? I really don't remember that very clearly at all. Anyway, we all heard about it on the news so I really would have nothing to add to that. Whatever.

Which Reminds Me

It might have been Margot from Panama who was Bahai although I really don't remember. She called herself a witch so obviously there was not a lot Christian thought going on in her head. I also don't actually have any good memories of trashy witch Maria Smith. It is hard for me to understand how she could be connected in any way to me when actually we are Christian family and so obviously we don't take orders from trashy bitch Maria.

Which Reminds Me

Someone in high school mentioned that they were Ba'hai but I don't remember now who said that. I did not know what that was nor did I care to learn more. I am a Christian so obviously I would not want to go there but if Jesus were asking me to witness for him then maybe I would need to study the problem.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I suppose that Tobacco Hag Laurie would be expecting a reaction from me, as if I ever cared what she did. Greedy selfish Laurie was never there for me and I never thought of those nasties as any type of friend. She never really cared about anything beyond her own stupid butt.

Which Reminds Me

I do remember Machelle Bush was talking about how she went across the street more than once to hang out with some disgruntled television staffers there. I don't remember anything specific and I never went with her to find out more about that although I suppose it could have been interesting. There might have been a lot of scuttlebutt flying around but I was not very interested in that stuff. I was only there a short time. Thus, it logically follows that you would probably get a lot more information from Bush. I don't remember much about that. Asking me will not get you very far. You would only obligate me to fight against powers that are too high for me and destroy myself so obviously I would just avoid the subject entirely and never go there because, anyway, it just wasn't my problem and I am really not that interested in committing suicide. In summary, you are cruel and unjust, which I suppose sums it up.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, who could forget reading the book about Sylvia, the lady with multiple personality disorder who had maybe 16 different personalities, although actually I think her name was Sybil, not Sylvia> Anyway, it was horrible what her psycho mother did to her and she repressed the memories by acting out various fantasies or something like that. How sad, but my name is neither Sylvia nor Sybil so I really wouldn't know. I have learned already by now that sometimes talking to psychiatrists can make you lose your mind even if you thought you had one. And what do those doctors and nurses do, anyway, but shoot up their clients with junk, and then you only imagine yourself feeling better while actually your problems are the same and worse because if you say you are suicidal your so-called psychologist "friend" will have you Baker acted. Wasn't it Jill Anderson who was making all those Baker Act jokes? Her sister was one of those counselor type "friends" to whom nothing personal should ever be confided. And what is the point of talking about to those psycho people when nothing is safe? Which begs the question of why someone was imagining that I would ever donate my brain to medical research. How ridiculous. There is nothing they can do to make things better when obviously my paranoid suspicions were right all along. Everyone is against me and I do have every right to feel suspicious and depressed about that. Oh, yes, I actually do know what I am talking about after all now that I see the truth.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, sometimes I think I hear that junkyard dog Wendy barking in the background somewhere but I cannot imagine why these poeple have such an obsession with me. I don't really know them. We barely met if at all. Maybe I just saw them from a distance but we were not introduced. So there was no reason for them to expect me to prove something to them. And if so, what could that be? And why? I just cannot imagine why I should care about them. They were nothing to me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I myself am the sole voice of the American people and no one shall dare to break my will or cross me in any way. I the American people have spoken and my voice shall rule and tobacco trash Libby must endure my wrath. How dare these shrill tobacco hags criticize me in any way when they have reserved for themselves the villainous role of tobacco industry shill?

Which Reminds Me

Everything that I ever said was sent through a meat grinder, as if. And where is it written that I must play the villain because Libby has reserved for herself the role of heroine? Anyway, it is no drug to be good and do the right thing, but to my mind the good does not include tobacco sticks. Clearly no real conversation was ever going to happen there, especially not now.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I fail to understand why the specter of smoking Libby is continually brought forward, as if I had anything to do with that. She is the one who came forward to confess herself unable to control this compulsion, this nervous habit of hers, of puffing away on tobacco sticks. And I didn't even say anything. But since you keep breathing smoke in my face I find myself to send it back where it came from because it was really not my problem.

Which Reminds Me

Dante's "Inferno" was one of the works of fiction that we studied in Spanish literature in high school, even though actually in Spanish translation, not the original Italian. I vaguely remember how I think it was Simonetta Paggi who was insisting that this book was Catholic doctrine. They believe it is like the Bible, including the place of purgatory and the importance of Beatrice.

I being a Protestant must conscientiously point out to "Simo," who I noticed now lives in Miami, that Dante's book is far from included in the Biblical canon of 300+ A.D., the one that gave us the Bible as we know it in as far as we Protestant Christians are concerned. Even the Catholic Biblical canon, although it includes a few other books, such as the Apocrypha, does not include Dante's interesting work of fiction. I think I read somewhere that the Catholic church has given the Dante's book a unique place of authority even though it is a fictional product of Dante's vision.

It is an interesting attempt by Dante to conciliate elements of Greek and Roman mythologies with Christian theology. Greece's Olympic superheroes and demigods are located mostly in the deep caverns of hell as I recall. Personally, myself not having been there, I really would not be able to say what hell actually would look like so really would not be able to validate or invalidate Dante's vision. I really don't know. Such a preoccupation with hell seems morbid and obsessive to me but I do not doubt there is something there. However, I would rather focus on where I would rather go, heaven, the place described as a harmony of fixed stars, rather than obsess on the reverse. I do not doubt that the sulphorous fumes and smoke of hell are manifest somewhere.

Someone is assiduously trying to send me to the City of "Dis" and doing a clever job of it, but I think that God knows better than I the original authorship of these lengthy diatribes and in due time will properly attribute these sentiments to their original owners.

Which Reminds Me

That was so unbelievably cruel of the tobacco dogs to sic their filthy tobacco trash on me that way, as if the tobacco stain were comparable. God will have a hard time forgiving these tobacco cats after they were so ruthless in destroying those who simply wish to assemble for peaceable worship of God without interference from the censorial tyrants of the tobacco industry, as if smoking were anything but a fringe element of America. It is a bit amusing to see the credulity of earlier generations in regards to the noxious weed but time has not been kind to tobacco.

Which Reminds Me

Ha ha ha! And what would tobacco trash Libby know about the Bible? Nothing, obviously. Libby belonged to the Jehovah Witness cult so obviously if she ever read anything it would have been only that truncated version of Scriptures peddled by Watchtower brainwashees in which all of the parts that don't agree with their preestablished ideologies have been removed so that nothing in the Bible will clash with whatever they want to do. That sounds easy but whatever. I am not the cult police. For that you would want to check with an expert such as Walter Martin or educated cult expert who is trained to discuss that. I am not trained that way. I am just an ordinary Christian trying to live my own life to please God but they are making it too complicate for me.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I wonder if Alice ever married that guy she was dating. I never really heard anything specific. I really don't know anything else about Alice.

Which Reminds Me

Never in my life have I come even close to participating in any caucus race. They must have me confused with Alice, who was the receptionist in Miami. Last I heard of Alice she was in Colombia evangelizing street children. How nice! Yes, isn't Alice sweet? Alice is such a nice person. Blah blah blah! So that works great for Alice, but that has nothing to do with me. I just can't be that type of person. Alice just isn't me. I might have chatted with Alice from time to time but I don't remember anything specific now. Life goes on. Whatever.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do feel a certain degree of pity for tobacco trash Libby, even though as a U.S. citizen I must say that it was embarrassing to see that greedy yet clueless cultie upheld as the sole voice of American virtue when actually who can forget the sight of that shoddy tobacco stick protruding from her bloated toadie face as she chugs away, plumes of smoke emanating from her mouth as if batwings from hell had suddenly sprung from her backside. Of course, I could say something similar about Sandra if the scriptors should so insist. So I am just saying. There is no particular virtue in Libby's tobacco crop, just a lot of tobacco hags whining like locusts from hell. So I am just saying. Nobody said you could not smoke and also be saved, but if you really are saved you really ought to be aware that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit and that what you are doing to your body is not good. So I am just saying. Nobody said that you could not be Baptist and also saved but a lot of Baptists show no evidence of actually having the Holy Spirit indwelling them, Baptism or not, born again or not. So I am just saying. It is more complicated than that, unfortunately.

Which Reminds Me

So Kathleen has invited me to step into her stupid trap. And if I go there I will not notice until later all of the machines set up and strings attached. By the time that I realize that I have been had it will be too late for me to back out. The damage will be done and then there will be nothing else for me to do. They will have spit in my face, kicked my butt, etc. etc. and then they are expecting some sort of response from me. But I am a Christian so I can't really do that. The New Testament tells me to turn the other cheek, to walk the extra mile, etc. etc. So does that mean that I have to walk into their stupid traps all over again and go through their useless motions to find myself once again overextended against my will? I think not. I think that there is a limit to how far I have to go to accommodate these nasty people such as Kathleen who have nothing but self-interest to commend themselves. I think that I can safely refuse to go there.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely recall during ninth grade that after the first semester of earth science I was promoted to the honors version of earth science for the second semester for some reason not so clear, maybe because my grades were good. A month or two into the second semester I received a report card on which Mr. Freund, our earth science teacher in ninth grade, had written a cryptic comment, something about how he perhaps regretted promoting me to honors science because he was now observing me being somewhat quiet, not talking to people around me very much, which he interpreted as me having become too proud and arrogant as a result. Perhaps he had not noticed that I always was quiet and didn't talk very much to people around me in the earlier class either. My personal reaction to this very personal comment is sort of ambivalence and mixed feelings because why is all responsibility for friendliness dumped on my shoulders while everyone around me is coolly ignoring me, so proudly and arrogantly self-absorbed are they in their own adolescent preoccupations? I may have said something to that effect but it is sort of hard for me to discuss this minor point when any comment I might make to whoever will almost certainly be flipped into some strange configuration, as I had already learned somehow. So that is a two-way street. Anyway, it was nice of Mr. Freund to promote me to honors science. That at least made me feel good about my academic abilities. But as for my personal relationships in high school, it really was more complicated than Mr. Freund alone could possibly understand.

I vaguely recall that in downtown San Salvador there is a very large store called "Freund's" where we sometimes shopped. One tends to assume that our Mr. Freund was not the one minding the store or he would not have needed to be teaching science at the high school. Also, I was never a shop girl so it was really not his place to fire me. We could say something similar about the Siman's department store. I was not planning to say about anything else about that but some people apparently have nothing else to talk about so uneventful and boring are their sad lives.

Which Reminds Me

High school was a miserable experience for me. I basically remember being miserable all of the time during high school. Not that I didn't get a good education and all of that. There was just nothing there for me socially speaking. That is not necessarily unusual. Lots of people have no friends in high school and find their social life elsewhere and such is the case with me. I was not planning to comment on those irritating snobs but the signs are clear that I am expected to launch into some stupid tirade about Libby Penders being a Jehovah Witness cultie and they aren't going to disappear until I oblige. So fine, here is your prescribed rant on Libby's role as Wicked Witch. I was hoping to never have any future contact with such a horrible person as Libby so I had not imagined I would need to say anything about her. Libby is nothing, just one of those snarky nasty high school witches who were always so mean to me. Hopefully I will be able to find a normal life elsewhere having left the horrible nasties of high school behind to eat my dust.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, if only I had millions of dollars in the bank, I could then buy respectability as do these Jehovah's Witness culties. I am not interested in discussing anything with those horrid people, especially not Libby Penders, who is obviously brainwashed by her cult controllers. Thus there would be nothing to be gained by further discussion with them. I wish all of those horrible people would stop pestering me because obviously they hate me and just want me dead because I know better. There is nothing nice to say about them, needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

I was never a mole or spy in any way. They must have me confused with Wicked Witch Libby, who obviously had some secret deals going on behind the scenes I imagine. Not to be mean but we don't socialize with that type of stupid cultie. We are Christians.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is sad about Max throwing his career out the window. Who knew that such a rotten attitude was hidden there? If these people cannot forgive us our Spanish misuses, certainly God cannot forgive them their much more malicious errors of English usage. Needless to say.

Which Reminds Me

While climbing a mountainside, I made some remark about the beautiful view of the neighboring mountain peak from that angle. There was absolutely nothing controversial meant or intended by me. However, there was nothing that I could do to control the pathetically stupid reactions of large groups of stupid people to what was the equivalent of weather conversation. It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining. Whatever. How ordinary could that be? So while I am shocked at the rotten attitudes of my fellow hikers, I really don't care what they think. All respect for them is long gone. I just don't care that much. It was just nothing. Thus it would be completely illogical to find myself pecked to death by a bunch of stupid hens. And they claim themselves to be literate. And I didn't even say anything.

Anyway, I never want to hear another word about it.

Which Reminds Me

I so much don't care what stupid cheerleader types think about anything. I never was impressed with the stupid mutterings of bimbo cheerleader dogs and I would not want those stupid cheerleader dogs poking around in my head. Therefore, it would be logical and correct for the cheerleader dogs to conclude that there is a big "NO ADMITTANCE" sign posted on my forehead. I cannot have stupid cheerleaders in my life. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

I do hope that God forgives me for having gone with a somewhat large group of girls, while attending SCC, to see a movie, even though it was against the rules, titled "Ice Castles," which had something to do with Olympic ice skating and the grueling regimen those people go through to achieve such a high level of athletic performance. I personally cannot imagine ever doing that. The few times that I went ice skating I was doing good just to stay on my feet. As for the movie, it might have seemed dumb to some to see them trying to put romance into a rather awkward working relationship. But nobody really said anything after the movie. Everyone just went home silently because I imagine we all felt stupid for even having been there in the first place. Anyway, it wasn't my idea. I just somehow got invited to along. I don't remember how that happened. As for sports, I was glad that college P.E. requirements were few and could be gotten out of the way quickly.

Which Reminds Me

In doing my genealogical research we learn that one of the granddaughters of my Dad's Uncle Sam married a certain Mr. Israel. Perhaps she converted to Judaism. The picture is not clear. Anyway, we are not even remotely acquainted with the Israel family who live in a tiny village of California and who have never shown themselves to be friendly in any way toward us so I really would not be able to answer any questions about them. The connection is so remote as to be entirely irrelevant as far as we are concerned, not being able to say anything intelligent about it other than the names as listed in the genealogical register. I only know that the rest of us are Christians. We consider ourselves a Christian family and really have nothing to say about that insignificant connection of no importance to us, not meaning to be rude or mean. I just don't know anything about them.

Which Reminds Me

The three blonde bimbos—Kelly, Gwen and Jeanice—have yet to explain their sudden appearance on the high school campus. What were those vagabonds doing there in the hallways anyway? Don't they have any parents to check their rotten attitudes? It does make you wonder.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, the Jockettas were politicking and so it seems that all of the smokers got green cards, free admission to the U.S., for some mysterious reason. I cannot imagine why that would be, nor do I care. It is not like I had anything to do with it, I am sure. I remember that in the senior issue of the high school paper, when everyone was asked about their college plans, people were heading all over the map, many bound for the U.S., so not really surprising that many ended up here. It is not like Olympic awards were guaranteed to the "other" girls' P.E. class either. I have read articles in magazines about the issue of Olympics pride but don't know much about it in a personal way. In case you forgot, Comaneci was a Romanian at the time that she won the Olympics, not yet a U.S. citizen, but her perfect performance was not a requisite for U.S. citizenship, obviously, or most of us would be shipped to Siberia. So this whole Olympic confection is just stupid and annoying and irritating and I really would not care to comment. I am not the person who started this nonsense in the first place, obviously.

Which Reminds Me

I so much do not care what those stupid blond bimbos from high school think about anything, meaning specifically Kelly Elliott, Gwen Juneau, and Jeanice Barton Lewis. If they really wanted to compare notes with me it would not be so hard for them to find my phone number of my Facebook page message button or something. But for me to feel like I would need to justify my existence in their eyes before I could get a green card to get back into my own native country, the U.S.A., would be so utterly ridiculous as to defy belief. Kelly, Gwen and Jean are nothing to me. I really don't care about them or anybody else for that matter. I will be avoiding them forever and anyway I don't Louisiana for anything.

Which Reminds Me

During high school never once did I take a puff from or even touch the cigarette passed around the locker room after girls' P.E. class. Now this does not mean that I was in the "other" girls' P.E. class, the one reserved from Jocketta types with Olympic destinies. No, obviously that stuff about the smokers vs. the non-smokers derives from some politicking of the Jocketta types who were attempting to distinguish themselves in various ways from the non-Olympic rabble that included myself obviously. I really should not have to explain that point once again. Obviously I do not smoke and yet I have not heard of any Olympic medals gained by their Jocketta tactics.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is somewhat awkward that my obnoxiously abusive harasser in high school, Henry Siman, was from an extremely wealthy family. They have so much money they could probably buy out the entire country's justice system, so not the kind of people that I would want to find spewing curses directly into my face. How very scary. Creepy. Weird. So these very rich and powerfully nasty people want to me to go to hell. I, however, would rather not oblige their offensive request. I would prefer to avoid obliging them in any way, obviously. After all, I am putting my faith in Jesus Son of God in heaven, not in just some guy from high school, whoever he may be. I really never cared that much about Henry.

Which Reminds Me

I think that it was in 10th grade that we were taken on a field trip to see the movie, "Man of La Mancha" starring Peter O'Toole and Sophia Loren, a musical, at Cine Presidente, the movie theatre that actually was not far from our school. It was not long after that time that Kike Siman, although not in our class, and I cannot exactly remember whether he went along on our class's field trip, took to serenading me in the halls of high school with the song "Dulcinea." He might have gotten a smile or laugh the first couple times so he kept doing that over and over again. Every time he might see me in the halls at my locker or walking to class he would get right in my face to sing "Dulcinea" to me. He also had an "I'm your Latin lover" speech that he would reel off, something that sounded vaguely like something I might have seen in a movie on TV. So this was really getting on my nerves. These Arab guys are just so stupid. No matter how coolly and emotionless I shrug off this stupid Kike, a nickname for Henry, he continues to get right in my face with his recited spiel and never gets a clue that his behavior is really anti-social and obnoxious and offensive and makes me want to scream. Finally one day I must have been particularly cold in just ignoring him, so he dropped the spiel and started spitting curses at me, something about how he was going to ruin my life or something to that effect. So obviously this Henry is no Christian. He has a lot in common with the starving guys who one fears to encounter on the sidewalk walking to a local store, because their English vocabulary is limited to, "I love you, baby," and you will hear them practicing vocabulary lessons as they walk past you. They actually have no other vocabulary, it is safe to presume.

Which Reminds Me

Our high school class was taken on a field trip during school to see the movie, "Don Quixote," in which the barmaid Aldonza is serenaded by the bumbling wannabe-a-knight. Later, back at school, Quique got into the habit of serenading me with the song Dulcinea (trans. Sweetish?) even though I am not a Spanish barmaid, look nothing like Sophia Loren, and never in my life worked as a barmaid at some Spanish tavern. It was just that my name sounds like candy, which also could taste sweetish if eaten. All of this teasing was a colossal nuisance and I just want Quique to go away and leave me alone. I dislike being singled out for all of this negative attention by a person who obviously does not like me and is only trying make some insulting commentary on white girls, as if he would know anything about me. Obviously not.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I do feel sorry for those crude and vulgar lowly Italian barmaids as portrayed by Sophia Loren, but I am not the one of thought of trying to put the joke on me, neither am I the author of such a joke that was unimaginable to me. As far as I am concerned, Kike is just a creepy nuisance who never seemed to get a clue. I shrugged him off coolly, emotionless, because I would not want him to think that he could get to me. He is nothing to me.

Which Reminds Me

One year at SCC my sister and I were among persons who functioned as ushers for a series of concerts at the Crystal Cathedral (before it was the Crysal Cathedral). That was because of Lynda Botsford who arranged that somehow. I really don't remember how that happened. So that was nice to get in some concerts free that otherwise would have been probably too expensive for us, but I did not think to get connected to that after Lynda left. I just wasn't that interested in connecting to the Crystal Cathedral which is actually Dutch Reformed, not really Pentecostal. Church would be very dry there I would imagine compared to what to which I was accustomed.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely recall that while I was renting a room at Laura's house, that I left the kettle full of water on the stove for a very long time until all of the water had evaporated and the bottom of the kettle was so flimsy that the whole thing was burnt, the bottom now having a huge hole in it and no longer able to hold water. I think that I did apologize but Laura was angry and snapping, saying that I should have offered to pay for a new kettle. Oh, I had not thought of that. I am accustomed to being forgiven small mistakes. I think that I was up to date on rental payments and with not a lot of money to spare so it was rather shocking to learn that Laura should suddenly come up with this new rule of needing to pay for things that I broke. I mean, it is very hard to not break something in a nasty angry person's house so, now knowing the extent of Laura's mean-spirited attitude, in a million years I would never consider having further contractual agreements with Laura. Good-bye!

Which Reminds Me

Someone was talking about how in the new schemata all earthlings will have a uniformity of appearance. All will have brown skin, black hair, black or brown eyes. They will have no more of these shockingly out-of-place redheads with loathsome freckles and blue eyes. Those who do not conform aesthetically speaking will not be welcome on this planet. So this does not bode well for the appearance of redheads. Blondes at least can pretend to be wanted by men so they will find cover that way. Redheads, however, are clearly a blotch on the aesthetic landscape, so loathed are they by the dark powers that bee. Yes, and we redheads are expected to work for them like slaves, which does not bode well for any reappearance of these genetic materials. So whatever. And what was I supposed to do about that? After all, this world is not my home. I'm only passing through.

Which Reminds Me

I remember that Cindy Lopez was talking about her job at World Vision, which is a sort-of-Christian agency involved in relief and development projects in Third World countries. I don't know much about relief and development so obviously I would not be of much use to them. I really don't know anything about it. I just remember that at one time Cindy worked for World Vision before going to Latin America Childcare. Cindy is one of those Mexican types who think of California as a Mexican territory invaded temporarily by whites. Those early-bird Mexicans got there first and they are just dissimulating and biding their time waiting for the invasive whites to leave so that they can run the whole show which is why there is not much reason to return there or invest much time into that place looking at it that way. If I were a migrant farm worker like Billie Davis I could probably strongly identify with them, the Chicanos, but I actually don't identify that way. Billie Davis was a rare anomaly in the missionary world, needless to say. Which raises another issue of this new wave of Latino missionaries going overseas recently and claiming themselves a new and improved version of missionary because, unlike whites, they look like the natives, act like the natives, think like the natives, behave like the natives. Makes you wonder exactly what they thought a missionary actually was supposed to be anyway. That is a very deep question for shallow minds.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I actually don't care to explore the Olympic sporting event in great detail. It is something enjoyable to watch on television once every four years but that is about as interesting as it gets for me. I seriously doubt that I would ever go to any Olympic events because sports are just not my thing. However, I do vaguely recall that one year when the Olympics were in Los Angeles that Bobby Bueno and some of his friends, maybe Cindy Lopez, were deeply involved in that somehow. I don't remember what they said about that but I do vaguely remember hearing something. They were maybe volunteers for the logistics of the event so that was nice for them. Maybe they got free sporting event tickets along the way as a benefit. Yes, I suppose that if I had millions of dollars in the bank I too could volunteer to do a lot of things but I actually needed to work for money, not being independently wealthy and having no financial parachute to speak of and not wanting to be financially obligated to some wealthy donor's mysterious agenda, so obviously the Olympics will have to go on without me. Anyway, I never had any illusions of grandeur about my balance beam performance so I really cannot imagine why anyone would be asking me personal questions about the Olympics. I really don't care that much.

Which Reminds Me

I remember Laura simply as a shrill and shrieky witch. Laura's prominent display of pathetically bad attitude proves only that blondes have no exclusive claim to virtue. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

It is sort of awkward to see the trashy stupid Sanchez family, handicapped in the Baptist way, always angling to stab me in the back, as if anyone ever cared what the Baptist Sanchez family ever thought about anything. The Sanchez never quite "get" the full picture but it is useless to argue with Baptists bimbos like the Sanchez, Bells, Reeces because they are too limited to understand. I wonder what makes the Baptists think that they are going to be running my life later? Maybe they will get a clue that, guess what, it is not our problem that stupid nasty Kathleen married a creepy wicked doctor with a rather bad reputation, as if we should be impressed. Nobody really takes the Baptists that seriously. I did at one time attend school with Carol, Rhina, Noel, but I am smarter than that. I deeply resent them suggesting that I would have to owe all of my success to them, as if their pathetically low level of stupidity were some kind of prize that I would want to strive for, as if they should get credit for things they know nothing about and did nothing to facilitate. They actually have nothing that I want or need. The Sanchez family are just a whiny nuisance to be brutally honest. I