Archive for the ‘Bizarre’ Category

Smear

I hopped off a bus, caught an uber and met my husband in the hotel lobby of a New York City hotel. Gave him a big hug and a kiss because we hadn’t seen each other for a month.

Once he was given the keys to the room I couldn’t wait to use the bathroom. Didn’t want to use the toilet on the bus.

Rush to bathroom in the suite. Everything looked clean and tidy on my dervish like sweep through the area.

I’m just about unzipping and lifting up the toilet cover and I spy a smear of brown on the seat.

I’m like, “What?”

Beckon husband.

I call front desk. State that the bathroom is unclean. She’s terribly apologetic. And will take care of asap. My last words into phone, “I think it’s feces.”

We leave the room. Husband heads to fellow at front desk with photo on phone.

He tells me that the guy said, “Oh, that’s shi*&ty. I’d be pis*ed.”

I laughed out loud. Did he actually, really say that?

Yep. Gotta love someone with a sense of humor.

The guy, once he was done funning, totally took care of us.

I’ve been in a lot of hotel rooms in my life. And experienced a lot along the way.

This was a first.

Hopefully a last.

 

 

 

 

 

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The first time I ever saw a red fox in the wild was after my Dad died two years ago.

I was with my brothers and we spent the day together-just the three of us- visiting the Cape. My father loved the Cape and so did we. We went to all the usual old haunts. Spent hours reminiscing, laughing and talking about Dad.

We were heading to the beach on the “other side” as we called it. My oldest brother saw it walking through the marshland in a residential area.

Dad and the boys would have seen a fox before because they spent a lot of time on golf courses. I was 50 years old and had never seen one in the wild.

I texted my sister-in-law who is into animal spirit sightings and symbolism. She said something like the fox is representing us as we navigate obstacles, decisions or difficulties. I no longer have the actual text or photo since my phone got swiped.

Found this in a google search.

You may be called to take action in a way that shows your adaptability and ability to move quickly through obstacles and resistance.

Well, that was true because we had a lot of things to take care of after Dad died. It was all new to us.

Why would I be thinking about a fox today?

Couple of evenings ago I was in a local Malaysian neighborhood on my way to visit someone who had just been released from the hospital. As I was walking to the house I saw a big cage with an animal in it on someone’s patio.

The people were just doing normal things one does in a patio. Watering plants, sweeping the ground, etc.

I approached these people and asked, “What’s that in the cage?”

The man said, “It’s a fox.”

I replied, “Really??”

Didn’t look like a fox to me.

He said, “Yes, it’s a fox.”

Okay then. It’s a fox.

I asked lots of questions.

Where did you get it? Kuantan.

Is it nice?  Like can you pet it? Well, it bites.

How old was it when you got it? Five days old.

Did it have siblings? Don’t know.

And on and on. LOL

fox1fox2fox3

I never saw a fox that looked like this guy. LOL. So I’m not totally buying it but I will surely take the sighting symbolism just the same.

You may be called to take action in a way that shows your adaptability and ability to move quickly through obstacles and resistance.

Sometimes it is hard for folks to move quickly when faced with things that are challenging.

If there are currently obstacles and resistance in your life I honestly wish you adaptability and the ability to move through them very quickly. Fox sighting or not!

 

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Had the oddest dream the other night.

I was in a store but it was sort of like a warehouse. Not exactly Costco but more like the back garden section of Wal-Mart when they have empty shelves. In between seasons.

For some reason, Thumper (my Jack Russell) was with me.

There was a guy there. Tall and lanky. Think of a younger Sam Elliott with dark hair. But a bit scruffier. If that’s possible.

Anyway, he’s leaning against one of the shelves. Above him, on the top shelf, I spy an animal looking down at us. It looks like a small ferret but it’s black like a weasel.

I ask, “Is it yours?”

He replies, “Yes.”

I continue, “What is it???? Is it a ferret???”

His shrug is noncommittal.

I’m like, “It’s yours? And you don’t know??? Is it a mix of ferret and something else? What is it???”

I don’t get an answer.

The ferret or whatever it was suddenly jumps down to the floor. Opens his mouth and begins to swallow Thumper. Brought to mind one of those nature programs where the snake swallows something so much larger than itself-like a deer or a refrigerator.

I’m horrified. He’s got half of Thump in his mouth!

The guy says, “He’ll never be able to swallow all of him.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth when the ferret gulped down my Thumper.

Swallowed him whole. All of him!

I’m sickened and rooted to the spot.

Then, all of a sudden, the ferret opens its mouth and spews out Thumper. Like a cannon ball shot into the air!  Couldn’t hold him in apparently.

Whew!

Next morning I’m telling my husband.

Asking, “What do you think that dream was all about? What on earth??? Is it the world being swallowed up? Is it me? Is it you? Nothing can hold Thumper down? What????”

He laughed and said, “I just don’t know, Mary.”

Do dreams have to mean anything?

I can only vividly remember two other dreams in my fifty two years of living.

One was when I was a little kid and the dream was about a strange man giving me a heart shaped box of candy. But I didn’t know he was a stranger because he was wearing a mask. Of my grandfather’s face! I think we can all safely assume a “Stranger Danger or Don’t Take Candy from Strangers” campaign might have planted that seed. It was absolutely horrifying. I thought I was totally safe because I was following the rules and not taking candy from a stranger. Shivers.

The other one was when I was teenager. I was driving a car on one of those highway bridges and suddenly the road just ended. Nothing. Just a cliff like scenario. I plummeted. The good news is that I never actually hit the ground because I woke up just before I did. With the bed sheet over my face. But the trip down was downright terrifying. Not sure what the genesis of that dream was but I suppose teen angst could have played a role.

Anyway, nary a clue as to the back story behind Thumper being gobbled up by a ferret. Just glad it was only a dream.

Do you remember your dreams or nightmares? Crazy as mine?

 

 

 

 

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Well, it looks like the new president of the Philippines will be Duterte.

Of course, the U.S. will be cautious. There are concerns about his foreign policy.

I am concerned that he was actually elected in the first place.

Because my first thought was,”If he could be elected then is there also the possibility that Trump could be the next U.S. president?

Duterte is appealing to the people who want and need to see change.

Playing on people’s fears and taking the tough guy stance.

He has promised to dump the corpses of 100,000 gangsters into the Bay. Some talk of vigilante killings.

People seemed to really like this type of talk. Dirty Harry is his nickname.

Nothing like referencing an old American vigilante film to get people’s juices flowing.

He has also called the Pope the son of a whore.

This current Pope. The one most people like!

I sort of chuckled when I read an article saying he was going to the Vatican to apologize.

I thought, “Well, he (Pope) is probably the only person in the world that would forgive him for talking ’bout someone’s Mama.”

Because I certainly wouldn’t.

But the reason I am really concerned about him is that he says anything he wants and the response seems to fuel him. The crazies keep him going and his crazy lets them.

Just like Mr. Trump.

In 1989, Jacqueline Hamill, a thirty-six year old Australian missionary, was working in a Filipino jail.

Ms. Hamill was taken hostage (along with fifteen others) then brutally gang raped by the prisoners. And murdered.

Horrific.

Duterte’s remarks on his campaign trail about this could make anyone shiver.

According to Filthy, I mean, Dirty, his comments were said out of anger and not meant as a joke.

Although if you listen to it on “youtube” the audience’s response was filled with laughs, chuckles and whoo-hees. And he didn’t look angry.

This is what he recounted about the hostage situation when he was the mayor. 

All the women were raped so during the first assault, because they retreated, the bodies they used as a cover, one of them was the corpse of the Australian woman lay minister. Tsk, this is a problem. When the bodies were brought out, they were wrapped. I looked at her face, son of a bitch, she looks like a beautiful American actress. Son of a bitch, what a waste. What came to mind was, they raped her, they lined up. I was angry because she was raped, that’s one thing. But she was so beautiful, the mayor should have been first. What a waste.

This is their new president. He should have been first.

Here  he is not willing to apologize.

What???????????????????

Then there was this guy back in 2013 vying for a Supreme Court position in Indonesia.

You do not get to joke about rape and victims liking it. NEVER! About a woman being violated in the worst possible, disgusting manner. This is unacceptable.

Maybe makes Donald Trump pale in comparison. 

But. Still.

Mr. Trump has said his fair share of nasty things against women.

Just google “Trump” along with “Sexist Comments” and you’ll get a mother lode of information.

Here’s one link.

Here’s another.

One more….

And the worst. “If I weren’t happily married and she wasn’t my daughter…”

There is absolutely no place for a man like this in the role of a U.S. president.

Sorry.

Not really.

Any woman, daughter, mother, niece, aunt, sister or grandmother will tell you that.

You do not have the right to govern a country filled with women.

And in case you’ve forgotten?

Women do have the right to vote and there is not a sane woman out there that would vote for you.

Because we are not just a sorry piece of A$$ or a sorry piece of S%&T.

No matter what you think.

Sorry.

Not really.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Many generous people in our community drop off donated items at my home. Don’t even always know who is doing the dropping. Could be clothes, household decor, toys or linens.

They do this because it helps them clear out their homes. And they also want to help others in the process.

My friends and I will send the donations to the refugee center. Or we will sell the items at our frequent garage sales with the proceeds supporting the refugee center and its programs.

It’s not always junk. Just things people no longer need or want.

Sometimes I receive things and I’m not even sure what they are.

There was the time my friend and I put aside a “camera lens” to see if her friend’s son would be interested in buying it. He was a photography buff.

We handled the lens more than once. I said to her, “It just seems so light.”

She agreed.

I think it was my daughter who finally set us straight. It wasn’t a lens but a coffee cup designed to look like a camera lens. LOL. You can google images.

I’ve had a few chuckles sifting through the boxes over the years. Like the time my friend, Lone, sent over some bags. She was donating a beach towel of mine!

My other friend received bags from two different families and found two shirts of her son’s and one of hers.

We’ve gotten valuable gold jewelry donated by mistake.

The sorting of it all can be overwhelming at times but it’s needed. Definitely needed.

One time I found a hand-written note. The donations were from a friend who was helping out a lady clear out her late husband’s belongings. I can’t remember if it was an expression of gratitude or what but I was glad I could return the note.

Or the photograph of my Australian friend and her daughter, who was a toddler at the time, taken when they lived in India.

Yesterday, a friend dropped off a bunch of bags in preparation for her move back to the U.S.

I sent her a text thanking her.

I also had to add, “And thanks for your son’s wallet loaded with Malaysian money as well as U.S. bills!”

You never know what you will discover.

This is where I veer off topic a bit.

I would later find out that while I came across this wallet my daughter had lost hers at school.

Called me from school to let me know. Was upset. The wallet had been our Christmas gift to her. So that bothered her but it was more about the contents. Which included her grandfather’s funeral card, a note from her Dad and photos of her loved ones.

We are pretty sure it’s been located so that’s good news. Waiting for confirmation.

But isn’t it strange that I found a wallet and my daughter lost hers at the very same time?

Weird.

Back to topic.

If you are donating items don’t forget to check those pockets. The pages. The bags. The everything.

Off topic.

If you do lose something-even if you aren’t Catholic-a prayer to St. Anthony won’t kill you.

When my daughter called to tell me about the wallet I said, “Say the prayer.”

She replied, “I will.”

I asked, “Do you know it? Say it out loud to me now.”

She said, “St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come down. Something has been lost and must be found.”

I then let her off the hook. The telephone that is.

Hope you all find everything you are looking for this week!

JBM

 

 

 

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I finished reading a book yesterday. Titled “Life Sentences” and written by Laura Lippman back in 2009. Was surprised that I hadn’t already read it because I usually like her books.

And I liked this one. An easy read with a bit of suspense.

It was prompted by an actual case.

A case that sort of blows my mind.

Little Maurice was born in 1986. Thirty years ago. His single mother was abusive and he was hospitalized twice with broken bones before he was four months old. Yes, by the time he was four months old.

Not that any abuse is ever going to be okay. But a little, teeny, tiny baby?

Even when he was in a full body cast there was still abuse.

Good God!

Anyway, after the second hospitalization Maurice was taken from his mother.

Then returned to her seven months later. 

So many things wrong with this story I really don’t know where to begin.

Department of Social Services in Baltimore was supposed to keep track of him but doesn’t.

When they finally check on him (after seven months) they don’t find him.

Little Maurice is gone. Just gone.

Mother cannot produce the child who is now eighteen months old.

Half a year passes before Social Services report his disappearance to the police.

The mother insists that he is with relatives. Said she is afraid that he would be put back into “the system.”

No body is found. No evidence that there was an actual crime committed.

But a child is missing and the mother never produces the child. Or anything else to prove that he is alive and well.

What to do? What to do?

The courts try to force her to tell his whereabouts. She refuses the court’s order to speak. Pleads the Fifth. Judge charges her with contempt of court and she’s thrown into prison. With everyone hoping she will change her mind.

Never did.

Basically the Fifth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution (a part of the Bill of Rights) protects a person from answering questions that would incriminate themselves.

This ends up going to the Supreme Court. Does protecting a mother’s (person’s) right not to incriminate herself supersede a child’s right to be protected?

A big win for a child’s right to be be protected.

The mother spends seven years in prison. Never revealing her child’s whereabouts. She has been released and still maintains that her son is alive and well.

Little Maurice would be thirty years old this year.

Fear of him thrown into “the system” should no longer be a concern. Would not be any repercussions if he appeared now.

She served seven years in prison.

Little Maurice has never reappeared.

So many things wrong with this story I really don’t know where to end.

 

 

 

 

 

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On April 8th I posted about the roadkill I noticed the previous day. A dead monkey on the side of the road. 😦

When I was a young kid growing up in the Northeast I never could have imagined I would see monkey roadkill.

I suppose I am fascinated by the animals themselves. Along with the fact that our progress as humans sometimes gets in the way of their natural lives.

As I was driving home from lunch today I looked, as I do every day, toward the spot where I first spotted the unfortunate monkey.

Yup, still there. Nine days later.

I keep thinking that the monkey will be gone. Removed by some highway clean up crew.

Nope.

Not sure why this bothers me. I’m not looking for it to have a Christian burial or anything.

I just don’t like seeing it decompose in the hot sun. Day after day.

 

 

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