Holy mother of all scares!
Do I have a psycho magnet or something? Can they smell me?
Today as I was walking my usual 10 minutes stretch towards work, i was approached by an older man, I would say 50 or so, wearing a hat and sporting a walking cane, and he started by stating his desire to be respectful to me. He then proceeded to ask me if I was one of the undercover cops that followed him. I told him no. He asks: "Are you sure?" " Yes, I'm sure."
"Cause this area is full of them, at all times, full of undercover cops watching me."
"OK"
A jogger passes by, and the crazy dude stops and watches the jogger as he leaves, and then asks me suspiciosly: " Is he with you?"
"Um, no."
He then asks me if I clean houses in the gated comunity nearby. (Yes, I usually clean houses while wearing high heels, makeup and a cute braided updo.)
I tell him no, but refuse to tell him where I work, cause I am not that crazy, and hell, if i had had the iPod just a bit louder, he wouldn't only know where I work, he could have followed me in. I was almost to the entrance... (I guess that means I should start paying attention to what happens around me, no more iPod listening while I walk, which sucks bigtime 'cause that is the only time I get to just lose myself to music and think my own thoughts. It really, really sucks. )
He told me his name a few times (Can I say it on the internet? Will it violate any of his rights, and will he be able to Google it and find this post, get furious and try to kill me?... ) and where he worked. He knew that I walked this road almost every day, and gave me his card in case the undercover cops, or the federal judges that live in the gated comunity, or the joggers, or anyone gave me any trouble. It was a card of the business he said he worked for, but his name was nowhere in it. Instead, on the blank side of a business card there was the name of his mother, handwritten with huge infantile letters, some capitals, some not. He told me to call his mother, and she would get him a message. (I guess that means they don't allow him his own phone. She might serve as a filter. )
This entire conversation took about 3 minutes, and scary minutes they were. (I am not measuring it in "scared minutes", but in how long I took to reach my destination. I took 4 minutes longer than usual.)
I said good by as soon as I could, and went to my building, checking to see he was gone before entering. I had promised my youngest sister to photograph the upside down christmas tree they put in the lobby, but she will have to wait, 'cause there was no way I was going to linger in the fully lit lobby in case the creep decided to follow.
So, what should I do now?
I suppose I should be varying my schedule, so that he can't follow me as easily. But the road is a straight line. The only way I could do that is to ask permission from the people in the gated comunity to use their roads as detours. That could work.
But what I really should be doing is getting my driver's license. I stopped when I got the new specs, because I needed time to get used to the way they warped distances. But then, inertia set in, and I have not returned yet. I really, really should. I will call the teacher today.
But maybe I should also take some self-defense classes. No tae-kwon-do or any of the showmanship stuff. Krav Maga is whatI would like. Don't know if there are teachers in Puerto Rico. I'd better find out.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Paternalist Government
Thinking again about the nationality issue, about what it means to be a nation and not know it, or to know it but not be allowed to state it.
And I am thinking about the paternalist behaviour so evident in so much of our government, and in so much of our lives.
Like the student proficiency tests they give in public schools each yeaor. If we pass with flying colors, the Department of Education will receive less money from the federal government, because we don't need it anymore... So the tests are prepared, specifically, to highlight how stupid our students are. And every year they show up stupider than the year before. So there is a sense of hopelessness in students and teachers alike, knowing that there is no way they can get better. No matter how hard they work, they can't get ahead of the game. And all because we expect daddy state to make it all better, to send us some money and make the problems dissapear. And we sell for money today whatever dignity we had , whatever amount of pride we could earned, whatever amount of achievements we could have worked for. But Daddy State pays us to be stupid, and we take teh money, and become stupid.
In all fairness, they don't make us take the money. This is a local scheme made by corrupt local politicians. But it would not work if there was no big State willing to cover for our shortcomings. It turns us into parasites.
Also, there is the issue of the " political sweet potatoes", the local phrase describing a certain kind of cretin that gets a job in the government in payment for his or her involvement in the campaign of the party in power. They literally get paid to do nothing, so they can scratch their asses for a few years and pretend to work. Before the mass layoffs, it was a common feature to see a group of, say, road repair workers, two of which were workin and five were supervising. You don't see that anymore. But the leeches weren't fired,oh no! They have to work now that the real workers were laid off. There is no one left to pull their weight.
And also, the human reproduction specialists, those bitches that throw kid after kid to the world, not caring at all about how she will feed them, since the welfare will cover it. And daddy state will feed the little monsters, and she will get her nails done every week with what the babies' daddies give her for child support.
So there again, the notion that someone else has to deal with your shortcomings, that someone else need to take care of the things you don't want to take care about. Th e sense of entitlement, of deserving to be given things just because...
And I know such things, also happen in the USA. Maybe they have different names, but this rot is hardly exclusive to us. But Puerto Rico is such a concentrated country. Everything here happens with a certain intensity.
And I wish there were no older cousin to receive our hand-me-downs from, so that we could use new clothing for once, paid with our own money and earned by our own work.
And I am thinking about the paternalist behaviour so evident in so much of our government, and in so much of our lives.
Like the student proficiency tests they give in public schools each yeaor. If we pass with flying colors, the Department of Education will receive less money from the federal government, because we don't need it anymore... So the tests are prepared, specifically, to highlight how stupid our students are. And every year they show up stupider than the year before. So there is a sense of hopelessness in students and teachers alike, knowing that there is no way they can get better. No matter how hard they work, they can't get ahead of the game. And all because we expect daddy state to make it all better, to send us some money and make the problems dissapear. And we sell for money today whatever dignity we had , whatever amount of pride we could earned, whatever amount of achievements we could have worked for. But Daddy State pays us to be stupid, and we take teh money, and become stupid.
In all fairness, they don't make us take the money. This is a local scheme made by corrupt local politicians. But it would not work if there was no big State willing to cover for our shortcomings. It turns us into parasites.
Also, there is the issue of the " political sweet potatoes", the local phrase describing a certain kind of cretin that gets a job in the government in payment for his or her involvement in the campaign of the party in power. They literally get paid to do nothing, so they can scratch their asses for a few years and pretend to work. Before the mass layoffs, it was a common feature to see a group of, say, road repair workers, two of which were workin and five were supervising. You don't see that anymore. But the leeches weren't fired,oh no! They have to work now that the real workers were laid off. There is no one left to pull their weight.
And also, the human reproduction specialists, those bitches that throw kid after kid to the world, not caring at all about how she will feed them, since the welfare will cover it. And daddy state will feed the little monsters, and she will get her nails done every week with what the babies' daddies give her for child support.
So there again, the notion that someone else has to deal with your shortcomings, that someone else need to take care of the things you don't want to take care about. Th e sense of entitlement, of deserving to be given things just because...
And I know such things, also happen in the USA. Maybe they have different names, but this rot is hardly exclusive to us. But Puerto Rico is such a concentrated country. Everything here happens with a certain intensity.
And I wish there were no older cousin to receive our hand-me-downs from, so that we could use new clothing for once, paid with our own money and earned by our own work.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Holy Shit, a whole month without posting!
No wonder I felt like I really ought to come around.
Family news, there are two new babies in the family and one of them is mine.
Not the one of the human variety, thank the goddesses in their mercy.
That one belongs to one cousin who totally screwed up with the wrong sort of guy and ended up pregnant.
But babies are a blessing in whatever fashion they choose to come so welcome to the family, little Dylan.
My cousin called me the other day to ask if I would like to be Dylan's godmother. Of course I would!!!! I would be his fairy godmother, and would spoil him like the cute, cute little monster he is.
Except, I got out of the Catholic religion at about 14, so I never made it to the Confirmation, so I can't.
Would it be exceedingly hypocritical of me if I took a confirmation in a religion I don't believe anymore, just for the sake of being a fairy godmother?
Had to tell my cousin to call my eldest sister and ask her. She too got out of the Catholic religion a long time ago, but she had sense enough to get Confirmed.
And regarding my baby, I went to the West side of the island to meet tiny Dylan and see how my cousin was doing and if she needed anything I could provide her. (A User's Manual, maybe?) While we were there, her mother-in-law came by and dropped a bag with a tiny, tiny orphan kitteh. Husband and I decided to try and raise it. It was so small that one of its eyes was still closed, and the nails were out all the time.
The cat behind her is my husband. ;-)
Back then she was also too little to know what gender she was, so we discussed a few options.
If it had been a boy, I would have called it Gateau Mocha, which means coffee cake, and sounds like "gato", cat in Spanish. Loved the pun, totally intended.
But turned out it was a girl, so her name is Tira Misu. Remains in the candy theme, and incorporates the name Misu, which is the standart name for a cat around here. And when I say standard, I mean it is practically obligatory. You would never call a dog Misu, and if you say the name Misu, everyone knows you have a cat.
Here she is, just one week after.
I don't have any more recent photos, but she is now in full battle mode, using us as stairs for the places she can't reach, playing with Kojiro, and all around being a crazy kitteh.Crazy thing is, instead of thinking less about Simba, I am thinking more about him.
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