I've had my laptop with me and had access to wi-fi but have just been running around, and had no time to write with last minute plans to figure out when I was going to Wenatchee and what I'm going to do there.
A couple of things happened which I'll write about, maybe tonight. Right before I left, I had an atrocious experience with a medical clinic MANAGER (not the doctor). And then I had quite the experience later at the airport (mainly my fault) and had to stay overnight and catch the next flight. Michelle Erickson was the biggest pain in the ass of all, and proves over and over that her primary interest is in harassing me and making things difficult for me--she has absolutely NO regard for the best interests of my son. This is the same woman who allowed my son to go to Mexico with a strange or new family, in the middle of their violent almost civil drug wars. Sorry, but that chick doesn't have anything inbetween the ears and she tries to make up for it by trying to dig into me by abusing her authority. Her supervisors are just as bad. I finally had it. There is no way she is not going to be individually named in a federal lawsuit for violation of my civil rights. She has made her own individual actions very clear in the whole matter and I have enough documentation on things SHE and Marie Scanlon did, all on their own, to accuse them individually of Section 1983 violations.
I came into Wenatchee, kicking and screaming and hating every inch of it. I just wanted to write a huge nasty blog about the caricature that is Wenatchee and then I realized, you know what, some of the people who have to live here, may feel the way I do, and see what I see, and they actually APPRECIATE having someone speak up about it. So I realized there are friends and enemies in this town.
I noticed some expressions of acceptance with some of the white people in town, and with some latinos, and even, interestingly, some of the guys who looked like typical gang guys. I noticed, though, that I was mocked by some of the ambulance guys--I didn't see both of their faces well enough but one was latino. It made me think about the one latino guy who was making fun of me once when I was in the ambulance, who seemed to be enjoying things.
One thing I am steering clear of is all of the doctors and medical people on this whole area, because they are to blame for the retaliation and I'm socking it back to them in either a conspiracy suit for RICO down the road or just going through with the Section 1983 claim.
Something that was kind of interesting, was that I gave a homeless woman some money for a bus ticket at the airport, and then I got free shots of tequila at a nearby bar, and then I was going to offer up one of my hotel beds to someone who needed a place (woman from a homeless shelter or something) and two different people, yesterday, told me they had room at one of their houses in Seattle if I was in the Seattle area to do anything.
I was offered one place by someone from Pakistan and the other place by an American who has Italian and Spanish parents.
I went to a restaurant to eat last night and talked with some people at the bar. One guy was sitting off by himself and I invited him to join the group and when he wouldn't, I went over to him and sat with him and we talked. He was the Italian-Spanish guy.
I realized, from last night, that I AM an extrovert! I was chatting it up with total strangers and inviting people to feel more welcome and I felt very comfortable and happy chatting with everyone and listening to them. I was sort of acting as some kind of hostess. On the other hand, I know I need my private time, because after so long at BBQs when I'm trying to concentrate on the other language, I want to retire to my room. I love being around people, but I like being alone too. I don't know. But I was the first one to try to bring people together, and when I thought about it, I guess it confirms I must be an extrovert. The Italian guy agreed and said this was clear. I knew he was Italian or part, right away, because of his eyes.
I knew the guy from Pakistan was from there by his accent. I first guessed Iran, over the phone, but then my second guess was Pakistani and I was right!
I talked to the guy from Pakistan about Princess Diana and about the Mexican wars with the Italian-Spanish guy. The Italian guy paid for my dinner and took me to my place and I was going to hang out with him a little and talk but he had to go. He knew I was loyal to my fiance and my fiance trusts this and already knows, because all his friends and everyone know. I don't like being alone all the time, though, so it was nice to touch base with some new people.
I forgot how many people are from Michoacan, Mexico in Wenatchee. The entire town of Michoacan moved to Wenatchee. I also forgot how many people here have tatoos. TONS of tatoos here and high quality work by good artists which would cost an arm and a leg in D.C. My fiance asked if I was going to get a tatoo here and I said no. He said he was thinking of getting one. I don't think I'd ever get a tatoo. I would hate it sometime down the road--I'm too fickle and would get bored of it. I figure people who have a history of changing their hair color and even wearing wigs on occasion, do not have the temperment for getting permanent markers on their bodies. I'm not even sure about fake boobs. They'd look good and I think I might get some one day, but you can't take the fuckers off when you're sleeping or going for a run.
I like having a little flexibility. I like the falsies. Any good woman knows the value of temporal things...you know, like marriage (?).
LOL.
If I ever did get a tatoo, it would be for my children. My son and the babies I lost. I consider those babies to be part of my history and my family and kids. But I would be too sad to see permanent markers of children, and if something happened to my son, more than what's already happened, it would make me too sad to remember. My love for my kids is constant and unchanging. Not once have I ever wished I didn't have them or thought my life would be richer. I have always been constant with my love of my son.
I noticed, when I got here, as I was listening to the radio from the area, how banal the conversation of the djs is. It didn't hit me until I got here and this woman is talking about the appearance of a "fellow". (I am kicking & screaming). She and this other guy kept going back and forth about absolutely nothing, and said nothing while talking a LOT. Nothing important, witty, or interesting at all. I also noticed, when I was going from the D.C. or Reagan airport to the Seattle airport, the drastic change in ACTIVITY.
In the Reagan airport, everyone was doing something. I mean, if they weren't walking fast, they were reading a paper, chatting animatedly, or working on their computers. We flew into Seattle, and I thought, "Don't these people have JOBS?" "WHAT IS THE FUCKING UNEMPLOYMENT RATE AROUND HERE?!!!!!!" Everyone was walking around sooooooooo slowly, and just sitting around doing nothing. Not reading, not working on a laptop, not talking. Just sauntering about slow.
I know there are good things about the area, but I'm just sayin'. One thing D.C. people don't want to admit is that some of the art scene might actually be better in places like Seattle or Portland, Oregon. And the food is pretty good in these NW cities too. Mainly, it's the advantage of good weather and recreational opportunities. One guy in the bar last night, said he liked Wenatchee because he didn't know any other place where he could go downhill skiing and then a half hour later, he could go golfing. Which is true. You can go skiing in Wenatchee, and then golfing.
One thing I thought I might like to do while in Wenatchee, is get a motorcycle. When we were rolling into town, the weather was so nice, and there were SO many people on motorcycles. I am not a motorcycle person really, and they're scary, but there's a level of anonymity in riding with a helmet on, and then too, it's sort of freeing and fun in good weather. Makes for easy parking too.
I had problems with Michelle Erickson and Wenatchee CPS again, and they purposefully didn't want me to be able to see my son and made a bunch of BS excuses for it, when it's been their problem and they've NEVER, ONCE, considered the best interests of my son.
I went to the floral shop and asked them to make a bouquet for my son with some scented flowers, because although he's not even 3, I know he likes flowers and appreciates scents. He will bend his head, sniff and go "Mmmmm!!!" So I asked them to make a bouquet and picked out a green ceramic chicken or chick vase. I bought a little beanie baby chick called "Sunshine" for him, and a chocolate bunny on a stick (he and I both love chocolate), a Dr. Seuss book, and a Disney CD. Oh, and a balloon. It's being delivered today around noon.
I have all these magazines from the airport that I never read. Scientific American Mind, The New Yorker, and the Atlantic and then I had the Wall Street Journal and The Washington Post. I told the Italian guy he could read them but he declined although he made a positive comment about The New Yorker.
I got some interesting information from a few people: I guess the new booming population in Seattle is Russians or Eastern Europeans. What else? Hmmm. Well, there was more.
I have to make some appointments today and meet some people, if possible, for lunch or coffee and other things. I'll probably do a lot of walking today, to get around, and get a little exercise, and if possible, I want to pick up some records and make arrangements to pick some things up. I need to find out what my bank account is in this town because my fiance said he'd put something in, but I don't remember what the number is. I have about 3 accounts and, hahahaaa....they are ALL red liners. Well, almost to the line. I have probably $25 in each account, at the most.
Well, perhaps it's just that my accounts are all Swiss now, and I have learned to appreciate the benefits of a vault.
No one knows how much I'm worth (just my weight in gold perhaps). I'm going to keep it that way.
Later I'll detail what happened with Michelle Erickson, at the airport, and some other things. I met this really nice woman from Latvia too, and she said I was one of very few persons who had ever pronounced her name correctly on the first try. She was impressed with this and I was impressed with her! I told Exxon, this woman was more than just her position on the surface--she had more going on and was really smart and helpful. When she left, she gave me a kiss from her hands, sort of an Italian style kiss goodbye. I really, really, liked her too. She spent a lot of time trying to help me figure out a solution to some things. She said maybe we'd see eachother later and I hope so. I've met a few women lately, that I like. I mean, beauty with brains types or just sensible and strong women.
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