As I walk the aristocratic blocks of Greenwich Village and Gramercy, seems to me that my aristocratic dog Chiquito is right by my side. I miss him very much. He and I understood each other. We both had champagne tastes and didn’t try to change one another. He accepted me and I accepted him.
Archive for September, 2009
The Jefferson Market Branch of the NYPL is right across the street from Cinterella, the famous deli/Italian food place. And I hesitated and hesitated before I finally decided to buy some dulce de leche ($6.99 versus $10 at Dean & Deluca on Prince Street) and a loaf of walnut/raisin bread ($6.99 versus $10 at Dean & Deluca). Once upon a time treating myself to these foods was nothing much. I just went to a place like Zabar’s on the Upper West Side and bought them. Now, I feel like they are beyond my reach and that I cannot afford them.
September 26, 2009: It must have been my face. I answered an ad for a free haircut on craiglist and when I got to the hair cutting place at 154 Orchard Street, I was refused. The man tried to say as little as possible. He gave some sort of an excuse about wanting to have fun cutting hair, etc., but I could tell that it wasn’t true. I understand somebody not liking me (or whoever) on sight, but nevertheless, it was bad. And I badly need a haircut too. Can’t pay for one, that’s the problem.
The woman had found the pink Victoria’s Secret robe on the street. She had taken to her boss’s house and washed it along with the other dirty laundry. Now she was sitting in front of the old TV with the robe wrapped around her. Cinderella was dancing with the Prince. The Disney movie was one of her childhood favorites and she had remembered it with fondness all these years. Sometimes dreams do come true, she thought. Sometimes girls (and women) get what they want and nothing bad happens to them afterwards. She shrugged her shoulders. At least some women get good things. When Cinderella’s stepmother broke the glass slipper, the woman cheered as Cinderella took the other slipper out of her apron pocket. She is no wishy washy heroine. The words were spoken out loud to her cat.
It is not a sin to have feelings for a priest. Most of the time the feelings are just there naturally and there is not much that one can do to get rid of them. The sin lies with the Church in not wanting priests to fall in love and have relationships with womwn or whoever they want.
Sex started when the world began. Priests, we must remember, are men. Just men. Eugenia Renskoff
When I was a little girl, he used to buy me 18 Kt. pieces of jewelry. The pieces were studded with rubies. I remember a beautiful small-faced watch from the late 50s and a cross with 3 rubies. Then there was a lovely gold and ruby ring. Once I asked him why and he said that he wanted me to have the best. He had gone through hardships in Europe and now things were going well for him; he wanted to celebrate his success. My father was anti-communist, and the rubies were bright red. The color must have had another meaning for him because he once bought me a thick velvet jacket. Red again.
Another consequence of the GA foreclosure/mortgage fraud: When I was living in Atlanta (right after it dawned on me that I had been scammed) I would take just $20 out of the ATM and treat myself to some sourdough bread from Eatzy’s, the Buckhead deli. I felt a little guilty about it, but that sourdough was a reminder of my old and easier life, a life with no bad money problems.
Tomorrow, September 18th, is the 24th anniversary of my father’s death in San Francisco. He died at around 3 A.M. My brother Alex woke me up and told me: Dad loved you very much. I jumped out of bed and went to my father’s room. After making the sign of the cross, I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
The ongoing foreclosure crisis in the United States brings my own foreclosure all too vividly back to me. In 2005, I did everything I could to save my condo in Atlanta from foreclosure. There was negative equity in the place, so getting someone to buy it wasn’t an option. Nevertheless, I tried that because the condo was in a beautiful neighborhood, close to supermarkets and shopping malls. I talked to the lender, contacted HUD, got in touch with anybody who might possibly be of help. I lost my fight and my home was gone on November 1, 2005. What came after was even worse and I have been living an uncertain and hard life since then. In my own lifetime, I hope to see the real estate broker and loan officer who got me the loan punished. I have been told time and time again, that given my 754 credit score, the loan was very bad indeed. I say to anyone reading this: If you now find yourself in a similar situation, fight! Do whatever it takes to save your home. Don’t give up even if it seems hopeless.