Fri the 10th: Around noon a few days ago >I heard the cristalline laughter of my niece for a while so finally I went to the window. No niece anywhere but down in front of my bldg a red haired woman dressed in black was SITTING on the pavement just by the curb where a car was parked. Didn't do anything. Then a while later a man came up to her and hander her his hand. She took it and tried to get up but she missed and fell back down on her ass. The man tried again real hard and with much effort -you could tell the woman was heavy-assed- she finally got up, then she walked away with her little dog and the man got into the car and drove off. So it looks like a total stranger helped a woman to get up by handing her his hand. Funny that just a few days ago I wrote to sophie that when I saw Henri Viaud help our mom to her feet one day they took us out when we were at St Ambroise boarding school in Chambery -in 1967 or 68- I understood that they were lovers by this mere gesture. And now it looked like you didn't have to be loves to be helped to your feet by a man. He could be a total stranger.
But what the heck was this oldish woman -in her sixties I would say- doing SITTING on the sidewalk between a tree and a parked car??? When there are benches a few steps away on the right and on the left? A little street theater is what I think it is.
Yesterday rec'd letter from Mom saying that I can't be "spitting in the soup" if I want it. She and dad have always used this ugly expression to refer to the fact that as their child I needed their material support even though I complained of their mistreatment. When you complain about being mistreated by your mom and dad, you're not spitting in the soup. They put you in a double bind. You have to suffer the mistreatment without complaining because they have the money you need to eat.
This surreal criminal nightmare has to stop some time. Mom etc. can't live forever in a world where no matter what you do you never have to deal with consequences. This is an infantile wish. The wish of a baby who poops and is cleaned by his mom and never has to deal with his own poop. Wake up Mom, you're no longer a baby and have to clean up your own mess.
Wed. the 15th: Today and yest. a man was drilling holes thru the bottom of the chinese restaurant storefront. Sophie had info'd me that he was reinstalling the air-holes that had been covered by the restaurant's decoration. This morn' I saw he was drilling thru marble at ground level and he had two brass plaques with holes in them. And the door to the basement (inside the garbage closet, to the right) was open and the stairwell lit with a cable that came from higher than my 3rd floor apt (No's on the 5th maybe). Door open, stairwell lit, it was like an invitation to come down and check by myself to see if the holes the man was drilling outside were really communicating with the cellar. And then when I came back up, surprise! I woulda found the door locked and me buried alive in the cellar. One scenario. Or else... Oh I see! Now they can abduct me and keep me prisoner in the basement and I won't die of suffocation! How nice.Funny the man had to come two days in a row to drill ten holes. Maybe he came today bec' yest. I didn't come down to see. I asked him what he was doing and he looked embarrassed (Mr. Dimitri, his van said) "ventilation" he mumbled sheepishly.
But seriously, I understand Mom must feel some anguish bec' I'm still alive and since she doesn't allow me to make a living she has to support me herself. She didn't think it would come to that obviously. She didn't prevent me from working bec' she wanted to support me but bec' she wanted my disappearance to pass unnoticed. So it was better for me to have no friends, no customers, no suppliers... makes sense.
I know I sound awfully sarcastic. And you didn't hear the monologue I had the other morn' where I was impersonating my mother talking about the problems I'm causing her bec' I dont let myself be murdered quietly like a good girl.
Thu the 16th: Go to MIPL computer repair shop on ave Italie during market, ask man to check for viruses the boot disk I downloaded from the web. Half a min' after I get in two blond men, one quite tall, come in an say they are sewer-workers. I think they are asking for money like the cops or firefighters do around X-mas or end of year... One of them says he had prob's w/ his PC and threw it out. I say it depends on the seriousness of the prob'. Some are worth repairing others are'nt. My diskette is virus free and the man (the same who wanted to throw out my hard disk last Feb) wants to sell me a boot fisk "for only 3 euros, a good price for you" but I don't trust it and think if my boot disk is ok I won't need his. But de PC doesn't start, as I find out at the library (where they have electricity outlets) so later I go to the 12th district, find a pc repair shop and ask them to reboot and they can't but advise me to go to Surcouf -the pc megastore- where I might find a boot disk. After much wandering over 3 floors in the emporium (surprised to see a woman with a baby in a stroller but hey, young moms are entitled to their computers too!) a guy gives me the web address of Microsoft and nothing else.
Coming out of the store I see across the av. Daumesnil a store named "3D" something that does upgrades and repairs. A thirtyish man with long curly hair says sth to me I don't underst. ane I come in. I expected to see an Asian man since most of these shops are owned by Asians but it's a French man at the counter who asks what he can do for me. A tall black man stands next to him and the curly haired man is near the door behind me. I say the pc won't start bec' of boot failure and the man reaches the BIOS and fiddles with it. I try to see what he's doing so I pull the screen down to see upside down but he says I'm going to break the screen if I do this. I try to see from the side but the black man is standing there and prevents me from seeing. Still I see two lines where something has been "disabled". The man asks for a "diskette de dem'", then tries to read the CD ROMS in the player, then he declares that my hard disk is dead and I have to change it. More discussion, I'm surprised that a storage device with gigabytes of capacity can die when only 15 to 20 percent full. The man says a new disk costs 99 euros and the installation 150 euros.
Obviously this was another setup and I don't know how the meanies knew I would go there and prepare everything for my coming. Looks like there's some psychic intervention, some unexplainable means other than telepathy or some similar undetectable device.
Tues. the 28th: I ask Norbert last Thurs. to give me some money he owes me for the stereo system he stole from me when I was in the US. He has paid back 50 euros and a month later 100. I wrote to him I don't like asking him for money and could he give me at least 250 or 300 at one time. No answer still today and my cupboards are EMPTY. I ate plain rice today at lunch. I've been working on "crochet netting" for the first time doing a symmetrical shape and, aaargh, in the course of my work I had the idea to pick the crochet in a different way. I've been working this way all day and then found the count was wrong. I was always missing 3 stitches and it's only at the end of the day that I understand where the mistake is coming from. The aspect of the fabric is slightly different depending how you pick the crochet so I'll have to undo all I did today and go back to the old way of working that was tighter and where I didn't have a problem with 3 missing stitches. Felt in good spirits until I reached the library and felt very weak, almost to the point of fainting.
Have an appt on October 1st at 10 AM with Mrs Lecas at the rue Daviel Center to re-establish my RMI allowance