Happy birthday Daddy. Today you would be 99.😭

I wish I could write. Not just here, though I'm happy to be doing something, anything. I mean really write. I wish I could pour it out and wonder where it came from afterwards. I know it would help me. I blame it on limited time, but that seems like a cop-out. If I wanted to write, wouldn't I make the time? The same thing is true of drawing cartoons. I have an idea, but don't get my pencils (Tyrant Racist Uneducated Misogynist Pedophile is the idea; I dream of creating a design and silk screening tee-shirts). 

I am feeling profoundly sad. I am mourning my mother, and she's still here. I am thinking of my father as Spring, Easter and his 99th birthday approach. I think of myself, and others perceive me, as above average in brain power. It's not as if I'm naive, I mean I've always known how life is...but still, I feel profoundly sad about my parents, about this cruel march of time. 

The horrible political leadership and the various immoral policies they are pushing don't help.

March 30 was the 5th anniversary of little Rosie's death. 😪 

 When I was growing up in West Shokan, we got one television station: CBS from Hartford CT. It took a major roof antenna to bring it in. I was not a television addict, but did watch shows that my father chose, such as the news, 60 Minutes and All in the Family, on our B&W set in the living room. This led to a lifelong preference for the network, and shows like Murder She Wrote and Everybody Loves Raymond remain my all-time favorites.

We don't have cable TV. Instead we have online subscriptions and a digital antenna. I canceled my Paramount+ subscription the day after seeing Tony Docoupil's introduction as he prepared to take over the evening news. The gradual yet rapid transformation of the network into state propaganda is alarming to say the least. Farewell CBS. You will have to boot-lick the unethical fascist grifters without me. Next target for my advocacy will be your advertisers.

 I again had a dream with my father in it last night. It was brief. This time the setting was unfamiliar. I don't believe he was using a wheelchair, but he looked as he did five or ten years ago. He was talking about real estate. I know the reason for these dreams or perhaps they are ADCs, and it is something that makes me quite sad.

The semester started yesterday and I had my first class today. Harry barked for about the first 15 minutes. Otherwise, it was OK.

I have a slogan idea, inspired by this: IF I AM FAR LEFT, YOU MUST BE A FASCIST. 

I dreamed about my father a little over a week ago. It was very realistic and impactful. He was as he was five years ago, during the Summer of 2020, using a manual wheelchair, speaking well, very sharp. He was in the hallway of his house, talking to someone on the phone. He said he and my mother were moving.

The weather has been making me feel shi**y. I've had allergies for a while, and they seem to be increasing with age. I always thought allergies caused symptoms like clogged sinuses, runny nose, itchy eyes, and that's what I've had in the past. But this year, all that is accompanied by clogged ears, dizziness, foggy head. A sensation sort of like swimming under water. My father had bad allergies, and I think I didn't "get it" until this year.

A few nights ago I had a dream about Sophie. It was so good to see her again!😍 

This is a tragic story. I can't help but notice an uncanny resemblance between the killer and the current VP. This is on many levels; here are three: menacing physical appearance, Tobacco Road background*, pure evil character. It's chilling. (*I am eternally grateful to Daddy for painting this evocative, unforgettable and apt description.)

JD

JF

She was my congressional representative for a brief time after redistricting a few years ago, and thankfully it was short-lived. I've been represented by a long list -- the elected official changes either due to losing, redistricting or retirement, but I have never felt the contempt for any of them the way I do for Stefanik. A commonality from every rep on both sides of the aisle has been routine communication -- in recent years, this has meant email. She never sent me anything -- no email, no mailer. She's too busy running congressional witch hunts. When she was first elected, I was pleased because a young woman won. She seemed impressive and appropriate for the district. After she developed a Trump obsession, she steadily devolved into the obnoxious creature she is now -- brittle, rude, hostile, soulless. I marvel at her ugly demeanor. How can someone be so angry all the time? She would have fit in perfectly with the other cretins in the administration, but I guess our current autocratic leader finds her unappealing as well. Maybe if she went for Botox, fillers and plastic surgery, she would suit him better, LOL. 

Father's Day is Sunday. I miss you so much Daddy! 😭 Here we are -- my father, sister and I -- at the Statue of Liberty in 1997 celebrating my 36th birthday and honoring his parents. We went to Ellis Island and to see the statue. My paternal grandparents were not citizens when my father was born. He was a better American, patriot and loved the United States more than Stefanik or any of the fools in the administration. He was just a higher quality person than any of them. I'm sure the same is true of many of the migrants ICE is persecuting. 

 

Tomorrow Pope Leo is having Mass, and I am psyched. And, there is the No Kings Protest (also psyched)! Hmm. Is something else going on?

 

 

 Today is the 23rd anniversary of this blog and the seventh anniversary of Uncle Bud's death. Last night I had a dream with a "glimpse" of my father and Sam. I suspect the reason, which I won't share right now, or maybe ever.

 Well I have accomplished nothing personal over break, and I have only 12 days left! Bob turned 65 on Sunday. And...today is the third anniversary of my father's death. 😢😢😢

 Friday night I had a wonderful, fun dream featuring my father and pizza.😊

And in other news, pick your poison! Righty or lefty fascism!

I just had a class where a nontraditional student called a young man who was making a presentation "sweetie." In 2024!

November 1 was my ninth anniversary as a vegetarian.

I have been intending to make a post every day this week but ran out of time. First, Election irritations: 1) the Molinaro/Riley ads are awful. I am so happy to not live in a so-called swing state. One nasty congressional race is too much; 2) I am inundated with texts from senate and house races in other states. LEAVE ME ALONE. Texting back "stop" doesn't work. Second, because we have unplugged from politics since being awakened and then disenfranchised, we have immersed ourselves in the '80s. We're currently watching "Highway to Heaven." I loved the show when it was on, and it has aged well! What a great show! Finally, last night I had a dream that had my father in it. It had something to do with food. It felt like a dream, a confusing medley, more than an ADC; regardless, it was good to see him.

The upcoming semester is creating a lot of work for me, but I wanted to make a few quick notes here. First, two nights ago I had another dream with Daddy in it. This one was a brief glimpse, and it felt more like a dream than an ADC. The focus was money! Funny, because the farm will be on the market soon and I know he'd be thrilled by the price it will bring!

Second, July 25 was Harry's eleventh gotcha day, and August 10 will be the Kitty's third gotcha day. 😊

And finally, I am so disgusted with the ANC and UNC duopoly. 😩 (That's the autocratic national committee and the undemocratic national committee.) Ugh. How did we get into this dystopia?

Yesterday my cold was dreadful! I am thinking of my father, and how during all the hurricane news coverage, he described his cold as "category 5." 😊 He was always so funny.

Visited the cemetery yesterday. 😢😢😢😢😢
 

I'm deeply emerged in grading. It's still early, but so far it is going OK. My biggest issue is that I am "broken" if I work intensely for more than six hours or so. That makes meeting the deadline (of Mother's Day!) much more stressful.

A few days ago, I had another brief dream with my father in it. This one felt more like a dream than ADC. He was young (maybe 45-50), talking continuously, telling stories. I sensed my mother may have been there too? Or maybe she was in the stories?

Toward morning I had a vivid dream about my father. I would classify this one as an actual after death communication. I was sitting in a large bathroom. That's funny, because lamenting about going to the bathroom (the "Giuliano curse"), and bathroom humor were 100% my father. The room appeared to be in an unfinished log house. He was standing behind or in a cabinet. He was only visible from the waist up. I didn't recognize him at first. I thought, what is that man doing in here? Then it dawned on me that it was him and I started urgently repeating, while reaching my arms towards him, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" He was wearing the tee-shirt he has on in the photo below, although in the ADC he was younger; his hair was a little salt & pepper but mostly black, and he looked about 60 (in this photo he was in his early 70s). He was not wearing glasses. He looked right at me and spoke directly, saying "I have things to do." My father was often hilarious, but he could be deeply serious as well. It felt real, like I was not sleeping, and when I woke up, I had tears in my eyes. I wished the experience had not ended and that we could talk more. I wondered, am I keeping him from what he needs to do? Is our family's profound grief doing that? If so, I'm sorry. I can't help it. I miss him so.

Easter was nice. My brother hosted a brunch. It was my first large (32), mostly indoor gathering since 2019 (or very early 2020). So much has happened since then. It's a good thing we live mostly not knowing what is coming.

 I guess because of my prior post, last night I had a dream with my father in it. He was talking fluently, and I was thrilled. He was eating ice cream. My mother was briefly in the dream too.

Today is March 13. In one month, it will be April 13, my father's birthday. He would be 97 this year. I miss him enormously every day, but his birthday and the approach of spring are incredibly hard. He loved the number 13 and his birthday.😭