Salom, Oneymo and Thank You D.C.

Okay, I don't remember how to say it exactly, but my cabbie just told me this is how to say thank you in the Middle East, after I said, "Enshallah". He said, "In Ethiopia you say Shalom, and in the Middle East, it's Shalom-a-mo." (or something like that).

This cabbie took me all the way to my house without charging me a penny. And when I tried to give him a tip, at least, he refused, on principle, stating he was a man of his word, from the Middle East, and would not charge me and could not even accept a tip. Then he said he would also take me wherever I needed to go, for free, when he was on duty.

First the Punjabi man, now the guy from Morroco! I am so lucky, in some ways. I now have two cab drivers who are respectable and honest men who have offered me free rides, carte blanche. I don't know why exactly. It's not like I'm telling a sob story. I just told this guy about my shopping expedition and he was laughing and everything. Hmmm. Maybe it's because I make them laugh. I don't know. Or treat them like normal people, because I know they're smart and just "doing what you have to do" to get by.

I love my city. Washington D.C. is my city and I love it for it's internationals and my own people who are here to do good works. Yes, there are money and power lovers here, but there are a LOT of people who want to do good, and they come from all over the country with ambitions to help and serve "the people".

This was my night, which is somewhat typical...I first got first rate help with my clothing choices at H & M by, as it turned out, a PERSONAL ASSISTANT. This woman was just voluntarily helping me in my clothing choices, and then she gave me her card and she's a professional personal assistant. She's up for review, and I hope her boss gives her a fat raise--she is REALLY good. She was so helpful and honest and I just love her. So we're going to have coffee in the future.

I got this darling black dress with long A-line cut sleeves that stop at the elbow, a plunging neckline, and knee-length skirt. It's very Brigette Bardot "french" and mod. I had every woman in the dressing room asking me where I got it. Okay, I'm flat, and I have no breasts, but it's a really nice look, sort of a Selma (not Salma) look. I bought flats to go with it and I'll wear my hair up, messy.

I was wearing my new pencil leg jeans with a camo-green long sleeved plain shirt, and brown boots, when I got off the Metro and these nice bodyguards just invited me into their club, without paying. I had bags with me and wanted a break so I stopped in and hung out. Then I was hungry, so I left to find food, and stumbled across this amazing Ethiopian resteraunt on U street, and this guy, a total stranger, says he wants to buy me drinks and dinner. It was clear it was just a friendly gesture, but he did say I looked so much like a woman he knew from the Netherlands, who was Dutch. I had the most amazing beef and "tortilla" dinner with jalapenos, tomatoes, garlic, and onion on the side. It was SOOOOooo good. And the music was live and traditional, and it was also very good. So fun. As it turned out, the guy I met was a former diplomat and is now an international lawyer. And then he introduced me to his friend, who was also formerly a diplomat (until they disagreed with what their country was doing to their people). And then I met people from Eitria, and I espeically loved this one woman who's lived here all her life.

I had one appletini and then I had another, accepted another, but wouldn't finish it because one was enough really. I had a little bit of the second one, which was quite strong. So kind, though! I made some new friends.

And then I made friends with the cab driver.

I'm starting to wonder if I should be a diplomat. If it just means meeting people and having fun and being a social representative, I think I could do a good job. So far, it seems, I make a good impression, and I adore the international communithy and I think they...LIKE ME!!!!

So, anyway, I love D.C.

Did I tell y'all, how I wrote this on someone's jeans in a club not long ago? I was at the Fox & Hound, in NW D.C., with a friend, and I met some guys and accidentally swiped him with the pen which had been holding my hair up. Ooops! I said as I caught his jeans with a pen nick. He said he didn't mind. I said, "reall\y?" and so I drew on his jeans, the thigh of his jeans as he was sitting down, without his permission. I drew, "LOVE" and then underneath it, I wrote "D.C.". His friends were agape. "These are $300 jeans!" he said, shocked. I laughed and whispered into his ear, "You can afford it." He smiled and asked me where I worked.

Voila!

I love D.C.

Today I tried to take care of some business, with my son in mind. First I went to CPS in D.C. to get the psych eval going. I first met this one social worker whom I talked with and then she introduced me to her supervisor. I asked the first woman if there was someone else I could talk to because I'd rather steer clear of Catholic affiliation because of conflict of interest and problems which have always come up when people put their church first and think I'm some kind of detractor of Catholicism. This woman stared at me, agape. She said, "HOW DID YOU KNOW she's Catholic?!!!{" She asked me over and over and over. I told her, "I don't know!" She kept asking. I didn't know how to explain it because some of these things I "know" just come to me or, I really don't know. I told her, to her shock and smile and wide eyes: "I just had a feeling!"

That's intuition right there. I knew she was Catholic. I really don't know how I knew, I just knew. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I don't care, personally, but if she gets to know my story, it always works against me and someone fro that church always ends up thinking I'm out to get them or their church and it's just bad news. For my peace of mind, I need to steer clear of such affiliations which are potential conflicts of interest. I need objectivity. Otherwise, I know in my heart of hearts that this woman is a wonderful social worker supervisor--I've no doubts. It's just how they are able to relate to me and treat me that is the concern and time has proven what the likely response will be.

So anyway, I did this for my son today, and I also found out where to buy him some shoes with flashing lights, like he likes, today. He loves those shoes. No one would get them for him even though I asked, so I'm getting them for him.

I love my bear more than anything in the world, and people in D.C. know I am "different" but not mentally unstable or ill. A lot of people here are fairly streetsmart and world-wise. They know how things can go down.

Thank you to those who believe in me. I am deeply, deeply indebted and thankful to you. I know I have some secret angels and I hope I can repay in kind or know about it someday.

Please watch over my son. And please help us to reunite as quickly as possible, without Wenatchee CPS interference and slander to my good name. Please help me to find a lawyer who wants to help us.

Thank you.