Little Tokyo Historic District

Sunday I took my little sister down to Los Angeles for some fitness thing again.  Last time I drove down I ended up spending the day in Costa Mesa/Anaheim.  This time I decided to park and just walk, I have been in need of alone time.  Alone in a city of how many?!  Shaddup!  Though the shots below don't show it I inadvertently was there during some Rock and Roll half marathon.  So many people!  Also last time I didn't have to suffer an olfactory onslaught of toxic fumes and urine.  Thank you Los Angeles for the fond memories you always provide.


So I ended up in Little Tokyo for several hours.  I took the time to walk around and soak in the sites and food.  I honestly had several meals Sunday.  I had 2 breakfasts, 2 lunches and 1 dinner.  No beer this time but plenty of food.  I was walking all day in heels and I ran a 5k on Saturday, my logic is flawless; I was starving!  I'm not fat, I'm big boned.


Though I was in Los Angeles on a day of a half marathon, I somehow was lucky enough to find myself very alone.  In none of my shots were there any humans aside from one.  I will explain that one when I get to it.  When I got to Little Tokyo my plan was to park on 2nd street but the half marathon road blocks had other ideas.  I ended up parking under the Weller Court Shopping Center, which I didn't realize at the time.  When I emerged from the parking structure I was greeted by the Ellison Onizuka Monument.  It was actually the one thing I really wanted to see while strolling around Little Tokyo.  The Challenger accident is one of those memories I still hold vividly in my mind.  Or as vivid as the memory of a 5 year old can be.  I had all the books on space and loved reading about Buzz and Neil.  I cried watching the news that day.

Foot in mouth disease, I have it.

"Because I am hard, you will not like me.  But the more you hate me, the more you will learn.  I am hard but I am fair." - Gunnery Sergeant Hartman

I looked back in my posts to see if I had written the story of how my father gave me away as an infant. But I couldn't find the story.  Suffice to say when I was a baby my father, who was kind enough to pass on his legacy of lunacy sprinkled evenly among his fine children, gave me away to my grandmother.  Story goes, my father threatened to steal me away to Mexico but my mom wouldn't have it.  And then the details are a little blurry.  My mother stayed with my father and agreed to give me up to live with my grandmother.  Something about a suicide threat from my father bla, bla, bla.  My grandmother's youngest child at the time was just about to graduate high school.  So she was young enough to take on a baby in the house.  With the help of my aunt and uncles I was raised in my grandmother's house.

In my about I talk about my gramps suffering from Michael J. Fox disease with a little extra dose of Alzheimer's.  My aunt ended up having to quit her job to help care for me and my grandfather whose health deteriorated at a rapid rate.  When my aunt stopped working she pretty much became my, "Sir! Yes, sir!" or as I affectionately called her, "Mommy-tia."  She was hard on me because I needed to learn.  She was hard on me because I was difficult.  She was hard on me because I had to grow up and function as a normal member of society.  Though now I thank her stern, rigid way of disciplining me.  I also know that some of my hang-ups and hiccups in personality probably stem from abandonment issues and authoritarian parenting by my guardian.  Pile some of that on top of some of the traits my dad left behind, which if diagnosed would land him in a category close to my own.  If not the same category I was diagnosed as when I was still too young and angry to make use of my therapy.

Unfounded Allegations

If the last episode of Reluctant Motherhood wasn't enough to make me want to run for the hills screaming, it's gotten even better.  Or is it worse?  We got a phone call from Child Welfare Services because we have been reported for domestic violence and drug abuse.  The only abuse going on is my poor, frail mind having to assist in rearing a child that is not mine and not right.  Maybe CWS can take me away.  Whoever reported these lies is more than welcome to take Andy home and tell me if they survive, sanity in tact, after 2 weeks.  No, even one week with him.

So the day we got the call advising us to come down and answer some questions at the CWS office, they had already interviewed Andy at school.  And at first I was worried about having CWS poking about our business.  And then I got curious as to who would possibly make such wild allegations!  And then it was mild amusement that some busy body had nothing better to do than make up stories about two people trying their best to raise a mini-tyrant.  Bring it, we have nothing to hide and are not doing a damn thing wrong.  Investigate away!

Parasitic little monsters... lice and children.

I forgot all about lice.  I vaguely remember getting them in 3rd grade when an infested child in my class was caught throwing her lice at other kids.  Or at least that's the story my mom likes to tell, who knows.  Maybe there was a disgusting filthy in my class throwing her parasites on other kids.  I also recall that most kids who became infested suddenly returned to school with blunt bobs for the girls and shaved heads for the boys.  I wasn't so lucky.  I had long hair, mid way between waist and shoulders.  I didn't get a cute bob, I ended up covered in Rid and spent the better part of a day having the lice comb rip enough hair out of my head I could have made my own Furby.  I need to stop thinking about it, I wonder if that is why I took the scissors to my own hair and kept it short until about now.

She said no.

My aunt told me a long time ago, when I was very young, "You don't need friends.  Friends are good for nothing."  I only assume she had friends that may have hurt her.  So to safe guard me from pain she would just teach me to avoid it all together.  Well, as a typical child would do, I ignored her teachings.  With good reason, I mean I do have a handful of friends I care for.  And I guess they may care for me too, but it's all subjective I suppose.

Recently an old friend of mine just moved back from being out of the country.  I thought it would be a fun idea to meet up and talk about travels from afar, catch up on life.  I had planned my afternoon around meeting up with her.  I talked to the hubs that I would be coming home late because I wanted to meet up with my friend to grab a bite to eat.  I didn't feel like having her come to my house where Andy would be a constant interruption, hell she hasn't even heard the insta-mom news yet.  And then I get the message that I have gotten before, "My girlfriend said no."  This has happened before, with more than just one person.  I just bid my friend a good day and said it's cool; even though I feel a twinge of pain in my chest, my eyes burn and my face feels unusually warm.