These people I describe looking away from me, including the one shaking the chain link fence, were staring at the street 159th Place. The little kid that smiled at me waved like you would see a beauty queen or princess in a parade. That also reminds me of how Randy Romine had a Doberman named Princess that had some puppies. I can’t remember the name of the male Doberman but I remember that he had a hard head because Randy clunked him on the head with a stainless-steel bowl that left the bowl quite dented but the dog was unfazed. I came face to face to with that male dog one time in a darkened hall way and I thought I was going to get ripped apart. Thedia had separated from Randy one time and moved us out and I snuck back into his house to get something I had left there. I was crawling along the darkened hallway and the dog was suddenly right there in my face. He was friendly, though, I guess, because he had only been trained to guard entrances and since I was already inside when he saw me, he didn’t see me as a threat. Or he just recognized me, but for some reason, I puzzle over that notion and I wonder what this artificial memory actually symbolizes.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Re: those who helped
Mon, 3/27/06 7:42 PM
http://www.komotv.com/stories/42616.htm
Bystanders tackled a man who swiped a toddler from a stroller Sunday in downtown Portland, authorities said.
[This reminds me of a time when I was at a Dairy Queen near my apartment in Kent. A woman left an infant lying in its carrier on the floor next to me. I was thinking this woman must really trust me to do something like that. It was weird. I thought of how people have left children in cars while they went into the store, so I figured she was probably one of those kinds of parents. I assumed she did it just because she knew who I was and was doing it because she could trust me, although why she needed to demonstate that, I did not understand.
Now I'm thinking about that time I parked my Jeep at Marymoor and started walking towards the Aurora bridge. After all this time, I realize now that I was expecting too much then. If they would let me starve that previous month, they surely would let me jump. I should have just driven to Gas Works instead and saved myself the misery of walking all the way down there. But I didn't want to. I just knew if I waited just a little longer, someone would tell me something. So anyway, it was shortly after the half-mile marker when I was crossing a bridge when that adorable child was waving at me with a big smile. As I was walking up to them, I was thinking the woman was familar although I couldn't see her face. She reminded me of a woman that caught my eye when I first started working at the Issaquah office. I remember feeling disappointed sometime later when I noticed she was pregnant, I didn't know she was married. I don't know if that was her or not. It was hard to feel so miserable after that though. I don't particularly care for being around kids, but seeing a happy child does warm my heart. The other two kids and the mother were all looking away from me and one of the kids as shaking a chain link fence. I forget what the second kid was doing. I decided to keep walking though because I was just sick and tired of all this. A really attractive woman was looking at me right before the 2 mile marker and that stuck in my mind too because something like that had happened in the previous mile and I think the 3rd mile. I was hoping the trend would continue but I don't remember anything during the 4th mile.
That also reminds me of something else that happened after I got out of the VA and they put me in that retirement home. First was that time when I was walking out of the supermarket. But after that was when I was sitting in the library across from where I was staying. A happy little child walked towards me and said something to me. I forget what she said. But it seemed similar to that time when I walked across that bridge, especially judging from the behavior of the people around her I assumed were her family. They were trying to make me feel better. I appreciated the sentiment. I had no idea why the felt the need to do that or how they even knew who I was.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Journal May 25, 2006
I'm feeling more comfortable, confident even, that this stuff I am remembering is true. There is still something I am missing though. I suspect that it is something I have to figure out, to remember, to recognize, on my own. It is something I will know when I see. For a while, sometime ago, I was thinking to myself something about how this wasn't over til "the bat lady sings," but I don't know what that means precisely, other than a variation of the well-known phrase. I feel the answer is somewhere in my memory, if I could just grasp it. I felt like I almost remembered something last night, something I wrote more about in my notes, but not sure if I will put it in here. I can't remember that thought now, but it was some kind of family choice, and that half-remembered choice was reflected in something later, but I can't remember.
Anyway, first in my notes last night was to remember a girlfriend I had when I was going to a Navy school in Great Lakes, outside Chicago. I am convinced she does not really exist and the memory I have of her represents something and/or someone else. Her name was Diane Broch, a name which, the first descriptor word that comes to mind is comfortably, reminds me of that movie Erin Brockovich. She was going to Valparaiso University in Indiana when we started dating and then later went to work for the IRS. Her mother once called me "Jerry." When Diane and I first started dating, we were sitting in my Explorer pickup one night after the dance club we were at closed. I reached under her skirt at one point, but she told me she wasn't that kind of girl, so I stopped. She was happily explaining to her friends some time later about how I had put her skirt back in place after I had pulled it aside. Later, I traded in my brown Explorer for a brand new 1986.5 red Nissan XP. Hurricane Hugo later flooded that pickup and it was totaled. My roommate, the guy from Hollywood, told me I should have left it parked at our apartment instead of on the base and it would not have been damaged. I remember thinking many times I wish I had done that. I dumped Diane for another girl, who then dumped me when I came back from the Persian Gulf.
So much went wrong after returning from the Persian Gulf, in my memory. Among everything that went wrong, is something trivial that may actually mean something a lot more complicated than I realize. After we returned to homeport in Charleston, I couldn't drive my Nissan pickup because the license tags had expired. There is something more to that than I can explain. On the surface, it reminds me of a great desire to get out and drive to clear out my head, but it may represent something else as well that I can't remember. When I was writing about this in my notes last night, I was wondering if there is some similarity to the part in that movie Flight Of The Intruder, in that he was grounded for his rogue mission. Who knows, I sure don't. It seems too crazy to be true.
None of these people actually exist I realize now, but I remember something about returning from the P.G. and hearing my girlfriends sister saying something about me not being welcome in their house. One of their family friends standing there said though that I was always welcome in her house.
I wonder about the significance of my memory of having an affair with the mother of my Hollywood-native roommate, Jim Shea. That was around the time I was seeing that girl back in my hometown and she and my roommate's mother had the same first name.
A few years later I have a fling for a while with a woman who was referred to as C.C., because that was a variation of her first name. Something seems important about that, but can't figure out why.
Before I married my future ex-wife, the person I asked to be the best man was, you guessed it, Mark Mogge. Tracie and I ended up just going to the Justice of the Peace though and didn't have a chapel wedding and it was only the two of us there.
Tracie and I first went out on a December 7th. I think it was 1991. I think it was a Christmas party at the bank we worked at. Her job was to stock cash in the ATMs for the western part of the region I covered. When there was a problem with the machines, she called me out to make repairs. She was an avid softball player before we started dating.
What is it that is blocking my memory of my real life???? I don't even know what is my real name. Theda is not my mother. Melissa is not my sister. My nieces aren't my family. It is mind-boggling. I thought I knew what was loneliness, but this is just unreal. This is loneliness beyond comprehension.
I was thinking last night, as I was writing my notes, about that part of the series finale of ST:TNG. The solution is probably in there too, somewhere. Picard was asking about the Stardate, what's the Stardate? At the end, he is playing poker with his staff. I remember playing poker in Missile Plot on the Wainwright. I rememeber something like people looking dazzled at some kind of card trick I knew, no one else could even come close to the same level as I. Picard said he should have done that a long time ago. Troi said he was always welcome. The episode consisted of past, present, and future versions of them and the ship. Only the future version survives the procedure, but then Picard is returned to his present self, at least I think that is how it goes. In the future, he was married to Crusher.
That memory of the doctor tearing through the flesh on my hip is probably only representative of some other reality. I looked at scar as best as I could last night, if looks like someone made a careful incision, although some of the scar is not consistent, as it is a little wider at places. I was wondering if it started as some kind of puncture and then a surgeon had to make some kind of repair to the joint. Those 3 cortizones shots I remember may not reflect reality, perhaps they represent being stabbed with something, it was certainly painful. I figure the memories were transformed from memories of being tortured to memories of being cared for by a doctor. There is a certain logic to that. But who the hell knows. I don't know what the hell it all means.
WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER!!!!
What is the significance of the second vehicle I had, which was a 1967 blue Chevrolet pickup? As with the ford, the Chevrolet wasn't that great looking, but I cleaned it and people started complimenting it. I like the Ford a lot better than the Chevrolet, but the latter did have a more powerful engine. It was a V-8 with dual exhaust instead of the straight-6 and single-exhaust on the Ford. I put many late nights into rebuilding the engine on the Chevrolet. One of my high school friends, Pokey, who was a cousin of my girlfriend, R.R., ran my pickup into the river the night of graduation when we were drunk.
I have this memory of Theda (properly spelled as Thedia) commenting on how my girlfriends were always named Tracy or Amanda. That wasn't true, I remember thinking, but some of my more important girlfriends had those names. Tracey was the name of a girlfriend from Wisconsin who was also stationed in Charleston when I was on the Taylor. I think she was a Hull Technician. Then there was Amanda, from Scotland, Aberdeen I think, who broke up with me after I returned from the P.G. I had some other girlfriends in between with different names, but my ex-wife was named Tracie and her daughter was named Amanda.
I loved that little kid and it is a horrible feeling to know now that she doesn't exist. It was bad enough that I never got to see her again, but now I know she never existed. And I wonder, greatly, if she represents someone else in my real life. I can remember this one time, it was Christmas Eve. Tracie and I were assembly toys for Amanda at Tracies parents house. I got called into work and after I got through, I called Tracie and told her I wasn't going to drive back because I was a long ways away. Tracie was disappointed and wanted me to come back. I told her I wasn't coming back but then I changed my mind and drove back. I remember assembling a red wagon for Amanda. That reminds me a red wagon I had at Homer's farm outside Antler's and my sister had a smaller green wagon. I thought more about that the other day when I saw an image in a news article where some company was testing a spacesuit designed for a Mars expedition and the person had a red wagon nearby. The first toy I gave her was one of those mechanical little yapping dogs and it was funny, or something like heart-wrenching in my memory, to watch her trying to hug it.
In 1995, when I had just started as a contract worker at Microsoft, one of the instructions in the training class we were in asked me what I thought about the new television series, JAG. I can't remember precisely what I said in response, but I remember clearly stating that I thought it was "stupid," and he seemed to not like my response. I can't remember that guys name now, but I remember we drove vehicle's that looked exactly alike.
My last port in the Navy was the French Riveria. I was disappointed that we had just missed the famous car race that happens there, the Gran Prix I think it is. When I left the ship, we were anchored off the coast and they took me into port in the Captain's gig. I was very hung over. Then they took me to the airport, in Toulon I think, and I had to ride in the back of the mail truck, sitting on boxes. From there, I took off one a military flight, but they landed shortly after take off because of some mechanical problem and I was stuck there for a long time before we took off again. There is also some memory here about Sicily, but I'm not sure what that is about, I had to stay there for a while, there is almost something like a pleasant memory that won't come up to the surface associated with that time. There was something there about being by myself.
There was some kind of choice I made. Some kind of family choice. I just can't remember it. Something about my work and my family. I have remembered lately about someone telling me how my father regretted that he left my mother.
Who is LaQuita supposed to represent? I liked her, but in my memory, when she wanted to get closer, I told her something about not having enough time because there was a lot of hunting and fishing I wanted to do. I remember fondly though the times we were together and remember thinking many times afterwards that I shouldn't have done her like that.
I caught an interesting episode of Futurama last night. The interesting part was where Fry was talking to the bureaucrat and she told him he should have made the request 20 years ago.
Is it possible that I was stationed in London at some point? That would explain the Whitehall detail. I do have memory of London that is probably there to deflect something about reality. And of course, Mogge was there. We were posing in front of a statue that I think is in front of Buckingham Palace.
That probably means too, that my memory of swimming in the ocean is much different than I remember. I remember being out by myself and I saw a pair of dorsal fins behind me, much to my surprise. But there is something about feeling surprised, almost like I was told to feel surprised, or that the normal reaction was to feel surprised to see the fins, but then I was relieved to see that they were dolphins, or porpoises, whatever I can't remember the difference. I also remember watching the sea snakes floating in the water from the deck of the Wainwright.
Since I heard it again this morning, I have been thinking of that song "Free Falling" from Tom Petty.
I suspect I have been in therapy for something for a long time and this is a mechanism of treatment.
Suojelupoliisi, or Supo informally, is Finland's security police. Directly translated, suojelupoliisi means "protection police", though the official English translation is "security police". It is composed of policemen with additional training, staff numbering 200. It specializes in preventing security threats and participates in protecting the parliamentary democracy as well as protecting the nation's security interests.
Supo was formed in 1949 to replace its predecessor, Valtiollinen Poliisi ("Governmental Police") or Valpo. In the aftermath of the Second World War the leadership positions of Valpo had been filled by communists and some of its activities were found erroneous and illegal by an investigation committee. Valpo was closed after the Weapons Cache Case.
Tom Petty
Free Fallin' lyrics
Shes a good girl, loves her mama
Loves jesus and america too
Shes a good girl, crazy bout elvis
Loves horses and her boyfriend too
Its a long day living in reseda
Theres a freeway runnin through the yard
And Im a bad boy cause I dont even miss her
Im a bad boy for breakin her heart
And Im free, free fallin
Yeah Im free, free fallin
All the vampires walkin through the valley
Move west down ventura boulevard
And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows
All the good girls are home with broken hearts
And Im free, free fallin
Yeah Im free, free fallin
Free fallin, now Im free fallin, now im
Free fallin, now Im free fallin, now im
I wanna glide down over mulholland
I wanna write her name in the sky
Gonna free fall out into nothin
Gonna leave this world for a while
And Im free, free fallin
Yeah Im free, free fallin
