Happy New Year! I’m sure I’m not the first to open with that. I’ve let some months slide. I’m watching the Twilight Zone marathon as usual. I guess that makes me a nerd? I’ve stopped going to Danny’s gigs a long time ago, as I’ve said before. Too many hours. When I was a kid, I was dying to have somewhere to go on New Year’s Eve. Now, I find it much easier to stay home. Still, every year there’s a big part of me wishing I did have somewhere really fun and elegant to go to. I can dream.

I was out of my depression medication while my doctor was out of town, and I hadn’t realized I needed the prescription renewed until it was too late. It’s nice to have holidays, but it’s also a relief when they’re over. I went through weird withdrawal symptoms. What I had I can only describe as temporary Tourettes...okay, on looking it up, there’s such thing as “Transient Tic Disorder.” Not facial tics, but shuddering head movements up to arms flailing, and sometimes vocalizations. I thought maybe I was imagining it, but then it would happen again, with that sick feeling.

I thought it would take about a week to get over that withdrawal I was going through, but no. It’s almost completely gone. But what about the eye twitching I’ve had since ’06? Hey, I’m not complaining, it’s just weird. I don’t feel sorry for myself, or if I do and don’t realize it, so what? I still feel sorrier for other people. The more people I meet, the more cases of serious illness I learn about. You’d be surprised how many people are walking around who are going through or have been through huge physical, mental and emotional traumas.

Mom is happy at her assisted living place, so I have to get ready to sell the apartment. I’m sure I’ll write about that more as it comes nearer. She didn’t want the car anymore, and I’m very glad she’s given up driving! We brought home as much as we could in the car last November. Mom has no sentiment about material things, so I have more sentiment than I should have. My brother doesn’t want much, either, though I want him to have some things at least. I’ll continue this in my next entry; I need to catch up.

So I came across Mom & Dad’s high school diplomas and yearbooks. Dad graduated De Witt Clinton in 1939. That’s in the Bronx. They lived in the Bronx most of Dad’s young years. “De” and “Witt” were apparently separate words in those days. It was a boys’ school then, and most of the guys had quotes and aspirations next to their pictures. Some were damn funny! Wait - I’ve found something just now. One of the grads was “Herbert Alper,” “Musician” (“A solo is not a flight by an aviator.”) Was in music clubs. Was this Herb Alpert? I’ll look it up.

I wanted to continue from my last entry. No way “Herbert Alper” is/was Herb Alpert. Here are some of the funny things printed in Dad’s 1939 high school yearbook. It’s amazing how many guys aspired to be dentists: “It’s true I’ll only be a cuspid puller, but I assure you I prefer it to selling brushes for Fuller.” More quotes: “Water him, he’s a blooming idiot,” “Some think college bred means a four year loaf on Dad’s dough, but I don’t,” “ All’s well that eats well. ” Ambition: “Bigamist” says: “I’m trading in my ‘40’ (wife) for two ‘20’s.”

Continuing amusing quotes and aspirations printed in Dad’s 1939 “Clintonian” high school yearbook: One who aspired to be “Third Vice-President of Ford Motor Company” says, “Vaccinated with a victrola needle.” I know he stole that from Groucho, but why not steal from the best? More: “Marry a Rich Girl” says, “They say better men have been born, but I doubt it;” “Champion Rope Swinger” says, “It’s better to have gypped and passed, than never to have passed at all;” “Merchant Marine” says, “He sails them in a bathtub;” “Teacher” says, “Still waters run deep with plenty of mud underneath.”

Mom’s high school yearbook is from 1944, Evander Childs H.S. (also in the Bronx, though they met when Dad was living in Rockaway and after the War). Not funny like Dad’s, but each student got a cute little rhyme. Dad’s yearbook didn’t say anything about him, but he was very good looking! Mom’s said about her, “A lover of music both sad and sweet; A tall, dark man, we hope, she’ll meet. Frances has not decided whether she’ll attend college.” She did meet him years later, that was Dad, and she did attend college - The Manhattan School of Music.

Joe does amazing work. Two of Danny’s former bandmates had come up from Florida so they could all do some recording together. They had a blast! The guys recorded two songs, and Joe made videos from them. Danny lip synched the second song as a character he’d invented. Pretty damn funny! For other song, Joe put old video clips to the music and it was hilarious, as was the opening page of the DVD. It’s from a film from the 30’s or 40’s of three girls, supposedly waitresses, undulating, but their faces are the faces of the guys!

Thinking again about family after watching on PBS “The Jewish Americans.” One thing I didn’t know about was the history of Jewish immigrants in colonial times. Not my relatives. Dad’s mother was born in the U.S. into a large family. Her parents were immigrants from Lithuania. My other three grandparents were all immigrants. My paternal grandfather was sent to the U.S. when he and (I think) a cousin got involved with a revolutionary group and they were caught burying guns in the backyard in Poland. When he was a young man here, he worked as a suit model.

Continuing from yesterday. As I said, my grandfather was a model at one time, traveling the country, Dad told me. This was probably before marriage. He looked dapper in a photo with Grandma (happily smiling but appearing overworked) and Dad as a baby taken on the roof.

My maternal grandfather hated his very strict, religious upbringing in Russia and stowed away on a cattle boat which landed him in Texas. Having nowhere to go, he lied about his age so he could join the Army. It must’ve been after the Army when he went to NY where he met Grandma.

I haven’t been to many Broadway shows. If I still lived in NY, it’s unlikely I’d be able to afford them. Possibly the first was Fiddler on the Roof, but Zero had already left the cast. Our seats were not good.

Next one I remember was Story Theatre which I loved. Then, Story Theatre became a TV show, but didn’t last.

“Why don’t we sing a song all together,
Open our heads let the pictures come?
And if we open our eyes together,
Then we will see where we all come from.”

That was the beginning of the theme song.

Continuing from yesterday’s entry.
As I said, I hadn’t seen many Broadway shows, but I won’t go on to list them, just three more.
When I was in high school, a friend had an extra ticket to see Equus. I was amazed that our seats were on the stage! I don’t remember much except Anthony Perkins’ spit spraying out, and the boy running around naked in the nude scene.

I’ve seen two Broadway plays after I’d left NY: Cats and Tommy. Mom & Dad gave us tickets to see Cats, seated on the stage, which I didn’t expect! I’ll continue this.

Continuing.
I’d been thinking of the play Cats lately because it’s been advertised as coming to the Fox Theatre. Watching it while seated on the stage was great, until intermission. By the time I got back after the looong ladies’ room line, it was dark and the play was continuing. No one was there to help me back to my seat - on the stage! I felt helpless and stupid, terrified I’d end up on the stage with the performers!!! Should I just open the door? It worked, and I found my way back, but that experience ruined it for me.

Working this past November’s “Black Friday,” I met an elderly lady who had volunteered to paint the backdrop for a nativity play, but had little idea how, so I said I’d do it. I also needed the pay. I decided to gesso the sheet she bought for the project and to paint it all on the deck. Spray paint would be best though I’d never done it before, and this painting would be huge. The weather and my backache didn’t help. Learned spray painting from watching spray artists on YouTube. Nervous, but I did it, and it was well-received.

Petition I signed (leaving out last sentence):
If only the care of discarded, neglected and abused animals was acknowledged on a state and then a national level, it is very likely that shelters would be able to expand and operate well without resorting to euthanasia due to lack of funds. It would take relatively little out of the budget. It is an undeniable fact that all communities have a serious need for animal shelters. Just as it would be unlawful to euthanize human citizens because where they live is overly populated, euthanasia of healthy, adoptable pets should be equally unacceptable.

I love Animal Precinct. In a wreckage of a deserted house, 3 puppies were abandoned and starving. They found the third, curled up in a box. It looked like she’d starved to death. Then, the officer noticed very shallow breathing. They rushed her to the animal hospital. With no heartbeat and no signs of life, the medical staff worked on the puppy they named Hope for two hours - worth a try. Then, a heartbeat, eyes blinked, she breathed on her own! By morning, Hope could stand. Today, she’s a healthy, beautiful dog adopted by a couple whose dog chose her.

Been teaching beads for quite some time. Learned crimping and basic wire turning when I was unemployed and my friend, Jeannie was my roommate. I guess it was '84, because Rianne had given birth to her kittens who were ready for new homes. A friend of a friend said she'd take one, so I went with her to bring the new kitten to her home. Her mother had just started making and selling jewelry and asked me if I wanted to learn. Definitely! I started off by copying her designs, but I was too slow. I’ll continue this next entry.

She hired me back later. This time, it wasn’t copying her designs. We mostly made anklets which her son sold successfully on the beach. We also made necklaces, earrings and bracelets. It was very pleasant working in her home despite the far commute by subway and the long walk. We listened to radio talk shows and talked while we made jewelry. It was summer and the windows were open. She’d make lunch for us and we ate outside. I was young, I had short hair and wore flowing sundresses. It’s a very fond memory, and beads became a useful skill.

Continuing. The seasons changed, and so did situations. I got a usual, awful office job. The kitten - Rianne’s second born - grew up but stayed small. Giving away a kitten had led to a pleasant job making bead jewelry. It was an extra bonus to enjoy the kitten while I was there. Some time after I left, she died. They said it was probably due to having eaten a poisoned rodent.

In ’88, I moved to Georgia and got married. I’d done very little jewelry making after ’86 or ‘87, but then started teaching beginner classes at a store in 2000.

Continuing. The seasons changed, and so did situations. I got a usual, awful office job. The kitten - Rianne’s second born - grew up but stayed small. Giving away a kitten had led to a pleasant job making bead jewelry. It was an extra bonus to enjoy the kitten while I was there. Some time after I left, she died. They said it was probably due to having eaten a poisoned rodent.

In ’88, I moved to Georgia and got married. I’d done very little jewelry making after ’86 or ‘87, but then started teaching beginner classes at a store in 2000.

Maybe I’m weird, but this is true. It’s not that I hear voices in my head. You know how it is when a song pops into your mind. It’s usually when I’m really tired, including times when I’m trying to fall asleep. Phrases will pop into my mind, usually along with how it sounds and a vague picture of the person saying it. They don’t make sense to anything I’d been talking or thinking about and are often things I wouldn’t be inclined to say. I’ve been told I may be clairaudient, but it’s more like picking up radio reception.

Yesterday, I wrote about being possibly clairaudient or whatever it is. Not much lately. Had little of it last night, though I was trying to be aware of it. At times, I’ve been bombarded with phrases coming from various people, even in other languages, to the point where it’s annoyingly kept me awake. When it’s that strong, I know it must be real and not coming from me. Once it was a weather report in middle Florida from a TV news studio. I checked the next day and it was correct. My TV was off, and I’m not in Florida.

Started a poem, not sure where it would lead. No, I won’t go on with it. I tend to write poems that rhyme because that’s what I was brought up with. Rhyming poetry probably sounds like greeting cards to most people. Randomly, I started with:

Gold and silver
Glittery things
Sunlight on water
Outstretched wings
Purple red sunsets
Fading away
Return with the sunrise
The very next day

Then I went into this thing about some fragment of beauty you once left behind getting you out of your sorrow, meaning depression. I’m not sure it’s true, but it may help.

It’s the anniversary of my father’s passing. It was a year ago today. He had fallen and was badly bruised. It was a lot worse than it would have been had he not been on blood thinner medication. I asked my mother if I should fly in. She said no. I thought he was going to get better. That’s what the person I spoke with at the hospital led me to believe.

I shouldn’t dwell on the negative. I should remember good things about Dad. I try to do that most of the time. I don’t completely accept his passing.

When I was a child and we lived in Building 5, the layout was different than when we moved to Building 1. I was trying to remember if I seemed lonely then as I did when I was a teenager. I wasn’t an only child and I had friends, but I felt lonely. When I played by myself, I’d often close all the doors to the bathroom and bedrooms, and I’d open the coat closet door to block off most of the hallway. This way, I’d create a new room where I’d play with games we kept in the closet.

Tomorrow morning I have jury duty. I’m on such a terrible sleep schedule, I don’t know how I’ll be able to get up, but I have to do it.
Actually, I’d like to be chosen.
I’ve been on a jury before and it was interesting. Coincidentally, I was working as a legal secretary at that time.
The second time, I was an alternate juror and I blew it by sleeping too late and was dismissed.
The third time, I wasn’t chosen, probably because I was acquainted with one of the attorneys.
I am dreading all the hours of waiting around.

The usual waiting for hours for everything. Unlike everyone else, I wanted to be chosen. They picked out 58 people. Around halfway through, my odds were slim. Okay, “56,” was me. Then the other judge came in; he’s from another county. They cut us down further, keeping the first 5 rows, letting the rest of us go. A remote possibility remains. I called tonight; they don’t need us tomorrow. Tomorrow around 6, we’re supposed to call again. When I’m certain I won’t be needed, I’ll book my flight to NY. So many things I need to take care of there.

I’ve heard having vivid, detailed dreams are a side effect of antidepressants. I dreamt my mother decided to leave the assisted living facility because she didn’t like the people there. I dreaded moving her back to the apartment. She’d be alone and anxious about it again, and we couldn’t afford healthcare aides again. Then I’d have to bring back things I’d moved…
I woke up and realized it was only a dream and therefore not true!!!!! I fell back to sleep.

In the next dream, Danny & I were living in Florida in a house on a beach. It was great!

I was chosen after all.
Now I remember: the first time I was called, I had a painfully tedious data entry job. It was a gigantic relief to be away from it to serve on a jury.

The first trial this time was a civil case against a local church. That sounded more interesting.
This one is yet another drug-related case, but not a dealer bust like the first 2 cases I served on. It’s always crack, it seems. I’ll write about the case when it’s over, which should be by tomorrow. I take copious notes during the trial.

The 63 year old defendant admittedly possessed crack. One voted “Not Guilty,” obviously the man who was against police raids. I agreed, “I hate police raids with their terrorist tactics. But I believe they followed the law. Our job is not to change the law but to know the law, decide if the law was broken and if the defendant broke it.” I’d learned before that this is what a juror’s job is. Next vote, no deadlock. Sentence: a fine, addiction help and 5 years probation.

Leaving next Sunday. This is my last entry until I get back from NY.