Someone in Italy found this blog by doing a search for “Italian foster parents,” LOL. I still miss mine, but I can’t find them. There are no obits on them in MA, but they are old and the halfway houses they owned are gone now, so I doubt they’re still alive. :( I was the only minor there back in 1982 and the only foster kid they ever had. If they are still alive then they’re not in MA. They would be in their early to mid-80s today.

Anyway, I got a little down last night. I do that at times, but fortunately it isn’t too often lately. Sometimes I just feel stuck in a rut and like life is one big waiting game where I’m waiting for things that never happen or take forever to happen. Or wishing for the impossible.

Maliheh surprised me again with an email message. It seems she was waiting till I got up. She knows that when I first get up I usually reply to comments. She said she was having a hell of a day with car trouble, and what’s wrong with trailers? She’s lived in them before. And I’m only trash if I tell myself that and she doubts anyone else thinks so, but if they do I don’t need them in my life. This was in reference to my last entry saying I sometimes feel like trailer trash going nowhere in life.

Later…

A 6-year-old girl sent out into the hallway of her school gazes through the window in the door to her classroom. Long braids trailing to her tush, she watches with a big grin on her face as the teacher and students tear up the room in search of the glasses she hid on her not-so-lucky fellow classmate. She knows where they are, but she’ll never tell.

They eventually find them hiding behind some books on a shelf, but she is still laughing, even though she knows she’s going to have a seriously sore ass come later on that afternoon.

Yeah, that 6-year-old was me. And yeah, I was a real little shit at times, LOL.

I forgot to say this in my last post, but at the end of my day yesterday I got hit with lots of palpitations. They’re annoying, so I hope that doesn’t happen again or at least not too often. I mean, I’m sure it’s gonna happen again as the damn things seem to have become a regular part of my life. I just wish they wouldn’t come so often at times.

Swapped messages with Maliheh. I cannot believe how often we’ve swapped messages! And how much she’s shared with me. It’s still not much, but it’s more than I expected to ever learn. I still can’t believe I’m talking to Maliheh B of all people! I just can’t believe it, like wow! grins with delight

It’s amazing just how far we’ve come in such a short time. Life is strange at times. We couldn’t get it right when we were practically neighbors, but here we are, so far away, yet closer than I ever would have thought we’d become even though she doesn’t like me in the way I like her. And yeah, that kinda sucks, but it’s also ok at the same time. Her liking me as a friend is better than nothing. Talk about having mixed emotions, though! I’m glad I got the hell out of New England and glad I met Tom, but sorry she and I didn’t work out.

It’s amazing and even funny in a way to learn that the so-called mean bitch really is human after all. And as she herself is no doubt learning, so is her troublemaker. Yeah, maybe we’re not so “opposite” after all, just like I told her.

Learning about her has been an interesting and fascinating experience. I really thought she’d turn out to be little more than just a mean little asshole all wrapped up in a pretty package.

Although I don’t know when it was, I was surprised she was homeless twice in L.A. She said she met this really nice guy who helped her out by showing her how to get one-day-old bread, where to get the right food from the garbage can, etc. He got up at the ass crack of dawn and collected cans and bottles for 7 hours until he had enough to get dinner with. The man really worked for a living, she said, and to this day she has a lot of respect for him. She took a night job so she could park her car in a park and sleep in back of it. I’m surprised she could do that there without anyone bothering her or the pigs telling her to move.

She said this is why trailers seem like a palace to her. I told her about our miserable 36 hours of homelessness a few years ago (assuming she hasn’t read my bio) and how the motel room seemed HUGE when we could return to it.

She might have a bug from being sneezed on, and so I’m doing spells to help kill it. I asked where she’s been that she’s being sneezed on, and guessed her job to be in law enforcement, though I know that’s not true. I just don’t want her to know that I know she gives guitar lessons. Or at least I think she does.

Before she crashed she said not to let the asstrolls get to me, LOL. I like that one!

Her saying she thinks too many people have been sneezing on her sure got me thinking about a question on Formspring where someone asked: Can you get sick if an old lady sneezes on ya?

Was it her? Hmm…it was well spelled and written for her. She may have potential but is otherwise a lousy writer like Marie was and I often have to re-read things to get what she’s saying.

I think of her a lot. She’s always there in my mind. When I write, she’s there. When I’m out running, she’s there. When I’m doing the dishes, she’s there. When I’m in the shower, she’s there. When I’m out running errands, she’s there. When I’m in bed, she’s there. blushes Well, not literally, but I can dream, can’t I?

I wonder about her life, past and present, and I picture us in all kinds of scenarios. I’ve never been the “man” in any of my relationships with women, so even though I think I might be bigger I let her take care of me, so to speak. I’m sure she’d at least like bossing me around, LOL. I imagine us hanging out together talking, laughing, joking, maybe working out together, singing, listening to music, doing things on the computer, and yes, that too. Even I know that Fantasyland just wouldn’t be complete without that. And so that happens on the moonlit path of my imagination quite frequently.

Once again I can’t help but think about how life can sometimes imitate art. I write this book about us reuniting, falling for each other, etc. Then we reunite for real. I don’t think she’ll ever fall for me, but still. We’ve become friends and it’s just really weird that the same kinds of things aren’t happening but they are.