Which reminds me

There is something that my mother's cousin said about getting up early in the morning being the road to success. Yes, I suppose that I could get up early and have at it and then make a fool of myself not knowing what I am doing or I could wait until later and find out what is really going on out there and then make plans. I find that I feel better the rest of the day if I take an extra few minutes to reflect and gather my thoughts together before moving or doing anything. Sorry if I don't buy willy nilly everything that my relatives say but if I gave their opinions too much regard my life would be a train wreck. They don't necessarily have any real understanding of anything that is in my best interests, apparently.

Yes, I suppose that if I were a special interest group, such as army or navy veterans, I would get a lot more "special attention" from the government, but I was never interested in selling my soul just because some confused person upstairs thought that Judy marrying a colonel meant that we were army brats. Not really. I don't know anything about that.

Also, we were never a Jewish or Arab family so it would be ridiculous and quite wrong for either of those people groups to be using our family tree to simulate the Palestinian issues of the Holy Land. This is America. We don't do that to each other here in America just because one or another relative married a Jewish or Arab person. We cannot have this ridiculous melodrama going on at home with Jewish and Arab factions trying to outdo each other. It just won't do. That is a problem they have over there in the Middle East, not here in America. You will have to carry on your Jewish-Arab conflict outside of our family because we would not want to end up looking like another bombed out Libyan territory, obviously.

Thus it is a bit ludicrous to see all these Mexican-Italians running around pretending to be Jewish. We know that they are just looking to secure for themselves all the social and financial advantages of being the "chosen" ones and "better" than everyone else without having to live in community with us. They are un-American in that respect. You can put up that front if you have the money but don't force everyone to buy what you are selling. This is America where every ethnicity is supposed to have the same opportunity as everyone else regardless of birth order.

Talent Show Whiners

Which reminds me that one year at SCC, maybe my third year, a group of girls asked me to play accompany the song they would be performing for the college's annual talent show which was then in its maybe second or third year. I am trying to remember what the song was, maybe "One Singular Sensation" from the Broadway musical, "A Chorus Line," although I could be wrong. Perhaps it was some other song. I can't quite remember. I guess those girls really wanted to strut their stuff on the stage so that was their choice of musical routine. I only played whatever they wanted because they asked. Otherwise I would not have been any part of that. It was not the kind of thing that I would be interested in doing, obviously. That was probably the only time that I had any part in a college talent show except for a tiny part in a choir the first year. My sister and I almost did a trio with Lynda but we backed out because it just wasn't going to work. I never really liked doing secular music very much anyway. You had to do some things to get the college credits but the talent show was not required. Thus I find it unbelievably rude for those girls to be asking me to explain their act. What were they thinking? I have no idea. I remember almost nothing about it. What were their names anyway? I only remember that when I walked off the stage I got lost and turned in the wrong direction and Rusty saw me and screamed at me. He thought I was trying to get myself in the spotlight. Ha! No, Rusty, I was only trying to get off stage as quickly as possible to find a chair to relax and watch everybody else in the college making fools of themselves, all under Rusty's able stage directions. That was all that was about.

Which reminds me

I already extracted what Sacramento documents I could find so Dauna can just wait there until the cows come home. I am not going to be doing that again. Neither am I going to be calling Cori for any reason. Have I forgotten that she is closely allied with Glen Kraiss, one of the Chicago Mob Slob ringleaders? No, I have not forgotten this important point. But how would I ever turn the tables on these wicked Chicago bitches without any help from above? It is just never going to happen. Alas!

Books for sale

On the Internet I see that Cindy Lopez Hudlin's book, "Hands that Heal: International Curriculum to Train Caregivers of Trafficking Survivors," can be purchased easily from various website sources, including, among others: Faith Alliance Against Slavery and Trafficking, The Salvation Army, The Commission for Children at Risk, the International Christian Alliance on Prostitution, and the Global Center for Women and Justice.

With such powerful marketing in place, there is no reason for me to call Cindy Lopez Hudlin on the phone to offer my services in the department of human trafficking and prostitution. I am fully persuaded that these professionals can adequately handle the job without any help from me. Is that the punch line you were waiting for? (Barf! Barf!)

Thus it is rather perturbing to be hearing from them on these points. Ok, so my GPA and lack of extracurricular achievements did not qualify me for the Delta Kappa club. However, I am not in bad company in that regard as Delta Kappa is no guarantee of future success, obviously, especially if you cannot get out of Bobby's somewhat simplistic mindset in which case we don't think you have anything valid to say anyway. There is a lot more to the story than the Bueno family business actually.

It is nice that the Bueno family established a school system there. However, that was an exception to the rule and not really our main reason for being there. Schools are good. Free lunch is good. It is all good. No one was saying that the Bueno family should not be doing that if that is what they want to do. Ditto to Sam Stewart.

However, if some other families were not particularly interested in going into the relief and development business in that way and felt themselves called more to the ministry side of it, well, there is no condemnation in that regard. Not everyone is called into the restaurant business, especially not me.

I don't appreciate my name getting all tangled up in that wicked witch web, frankly, as it just makes it hard for me to do anything. How can I have a life when those wicked witches still have their stranglehold? Change is needed, obviously.

The Cross Heresy

We see that Dauna's mother's maiden name was Cross and yet this fact does nothing to magically protect Dauna from sticking her foot in it, obviously. There is nothing magical about having the surname of Cross, or for that matter Crouch, as we see also from the example of Wicked Witch Patricia Cruz, a rude person who mostly was seen reading Kahlil Gibran pablum in high school. I have no time for these contrivances. They are peddling wallpaper, obviously, but I know better than to buy what they are selling.

Which reminds me

There is a question on the floor about all this sternness. Or maybe they are talking about the proliferation of Stearns. I only remember Robin and Renee Stearns who were at SCC at the same time that I was. Whether they are connected somehow to Richard Stearns, the president of World Vision, I really could not say. I have no idea. I have no connection to World Vision or interest in doing relief and development work, unlike the Buenos. Of course, we all know that Bobby's first girlfriend at SCC was Cindy Lopez, who worked for World Vision for quite a few years as well as for the Olympic Committee when it was in Los Angeles, as did Bobby. I really have no interest in following down that trail. I heard that Cindy and her husband later worked for the Latin America Child Care organization. So that's nice. I have lost track of most of these people. I really don't know anything about that nor would I expect to get a job working for Latin America Child Care after all of this, obviously.

More Thoughts About This

There are some things that I might say to one person that might not be appropriately if said to another person. Like everyone else, my life has compartments. Something I might say to a college roommate would not be what I would say to a co-worker or someone I only saw in class or the cashier at the grocery store or the person who asks what I am looking for when I walk into a store and to whom I usually reply, "Just looking," in order to browse privately without feeling like someone is watching me or having to look at and consider their suggestions which are probably not what I want anyway, unlike my mother who would probably embarrass me by telling my whole life story to the store clerk and getting into too much personal territory as she often does.

However, when I was three years old there was this unfortunate incident when I and this other kid in the nursery department at church did this "You show me yours, I'll show you mine," thing. The ethnicity of the kids involved was never the issue. It was strictly a male-female thing. It was really stupid and embarrassing, obviously. It was wrong of me to do that. I never said that it was OK or tried to excuse myself later. Still, I think some people are just too overwrought about it to this day.

Original Sin: The story has traveled throughout the planet and various persons, especially Catholics, have hailed my arrival on the planet as something akin to the original sinner. I have been judged a sub-human species, a mental vegetable who was not healed after all of the effects of enchephalitis that I had when a baby, a dog, a monster, a creature of lesser value, an ignoble beast, etc. I think this level of superstitious regard and attention is a bit unwarranted. Am I the only sinner on the planet? Does my three-year-old misdeed make me a worse sinner than other persons who did not do this or did not initiate the incident? Some people are born sinners but perhaps no one else thought of actually doing that except me. So? Is there no forgiveness for a sin if I cannot quite recall and verbalize whatever made me think of doing that? In retrospect I would recommend using dogs and cats for this purpose. And what about all those other sins of omission and/or commission that everyone else commits and is never called to account for? Why should I be called to account for everything I ever did when it is yet not my time to die and my life has not yet passed before my eyes, even if some other people wish that I were already dead. Besides, I cannot afford to have my brain scanned without money in the bank so bug off and leave me be.

Private Sin: We snuck into the bathroom of the church nursery to do this misdeed and then were obviously seen making our escape, imagining ourselves undetected even as everyone working in the place knew of our guilt and eternal condemnation. Thus, everyone in authority can be expected to reenact this church nursery scenario ad nauseum because nobody knows how to turn off faucet. Ok, so does this mean that I can never have a private moment again in my entire lifetime? Everyone is conspiring against me to publicize everything that I ever say or do and comparing notes behind my back so that I cannot protect myself from information getting into the wrong hands and getting twisted and misused and everything going off in the wrong direction. Everyone assumes that I will continue to perpetrate similar misdeeds for the rest of my life as mindless automaton and no trust or confidence is placed in my judgments or thoughts of any kind. This means that I cannot have any real friends or any real success in a job when everyone will be undoing anything of benefit to me anyway. Why bother? My place in society is that of single-celled amoeba, a word that I might have used myself at times, unfortunately, only because they asked for it. If I can only live in private, then I ought to be looking for a residential nuthouse to pass the time because anyway I have no life.