I can't sleep. I can't tell if it's because I had a cappaccino at 10:00 this evening or because my aunt is staying in my house and I'm still digesting our dinner conversation.

This is my Dad's sister. Most people who read this know that my Dad died under horrible circumstances about 4 years ago. I have not heard from my aunt or grandmother since and now all of a sudden she's here to visit. To say the least I freaked out about the whole situation. First of all I did not get her message that she was coming today until 6:00pm, an hour before she arrived. Second I didn't think I was going to have to see her at all. I thought I had gotten out of the situation by telling Mom that it was too stressful for me and opting out of flying up north, but it seems that my aunt wouldn't let me get away so easily.

I was a bundle of nerves going to meet her for dinner. I had to take a lot of deep breaths and just tell myself that I was not to let her make me feel guilty and to refuse to talk about my Dad's death if she brought it up. To say I was cool to her was probably an understatement, but the truth is I don't know how to act around her. She used to be my favorite aunt, but now I feel like I have to watch everything I say as she will probably use anything I say to make me seem like a bitch to the rest of my family. Maybe not, but I feel like anything I say regarding the situation makes me seem distant and uncaring, but it's the only way I can keep myself from screaming at her.

She of course brought up my father's death. I told her I didn't want to talk about it. That it was done and there was nothing we could do about it. That I missed him, but that it was his choice to leave us and I don't think we'll ever know exactly why. She of course argued and said that we do know why. That we could have done something. That she wants to make sure that the family stays close as everyone has drifted apart since my grandfather and father have died. My reaction, "Where have you been for the last four years? You haven't been there to talk about this. You don't call, you don't write, and now just because you're here you want to talk. I'm finally getting over this. I'm sick of talking about it."

She said that she couldn't bring herself to write or call the last four years. She could however bring herself to send legal papers.

Mainly things were left unsaid. She didn't really push the conversation to much and I mainly remained tight lipped about the whole thing mummbling sounds that sounded like I agreed. I think she kinda gave up talking about it. I sure I seemed like a cold hearted uncaring bitch, but the truth is I will never know what she went through and she will never know what I went through. I know she cares, but for me the idea of analyzing why Dad died, or assigning blame to oneself or others is stupid. He's gone and I have to live with that. I miss him and think of him often, but wallowing in his loss will not help me or anyone else and I don't think it is something that he would have wanted.

What annoys me most is how she has made me feel today. This past year I finally feel like I've come out of the craziness that has been my life for the past six years. I feel like I am laughing more, that I am in general a happier person who is enjoying her life and the people around her. When my parents split I became a bit of an emotional wreck and just as I was getting past that my dad died. Now when I feel like I'm finally get past that and starting to feel like who I was before this whole mess began she has brought all of those feelings back.

I feel like Dad's family views me and perhaps my mother and sister as well as people who didn't really care about him. We abandonned him when he needed us. We don't really seem to care that he is gone. And it bothers me to know that I am letting her make me feel this way. That I am feeling guilty even though I KNOW there is nothing more I could have done to help my Dad no matter what they say.

That she has come here, to a place I have been happy for the past year and presumes to tell me that I need to talk about my father. That I don't know all the cirumstances is absurd. He's gone. I loved him. I did what I could for him at the time. He left us and he let us down, not the other way around. I am at peace with what happened, because it did happen and there is nothing I can do to change that. I am a big believer of accepting things and moving on. To continue looking back and discussing what happened seems counter productive and unhealthy to me. I would much rather talk about the good times I had with him and the family. Dwelling on the bad things does nothing but depress me, and it is no wonder that they still all seem so unhappy.

But then again maybe there is a culture barrier or a language one. maybe we are not communicating as well as we could be. Maybe I am taking offense at things that I shouldn't. Maybe I am being too sensitive to what she is saying. Maybe I am so disturbed by this whole thing because I'm scared she's right......

This is what keeps going through my mind as I try to go to sleep. It is now 2:30 and I have to be up at 5:30 to get ready for work. To say that I will need coffee in the morning is an understatment. She will be coming to my work before she leaves and then I will probably not see her again for a very long time. Perhaps if I do see her or the family again it will after a long enough time for them to heal so that we can connect as a family again without blame or questions.

Thank you to all those I called freaked out because I could not reach mom or Ady. Michele, Sonjia, Krista and Kate you are the best. And thank you to all of those who read this. I needed to get this out into the universe. I needed to empty my brain so that maybe it will silent enough in my brain for me to sleep.

Here's to a caffine charged morning.....

I saw Troy last night. It was the most entertaining three hours I've spent in a theatre in a long time. They of course ruined the Iliad. It's been turned into a Brad Pitt event with obvious plot changes and dramatic remarks that take themselves so seriously that it's hilarious.

I felt a little bad. I was one of those people in the theatre last night that couldn't stop laughing while everyone was paying attention to the dramatic scene. Peter O'Toole was talking and Sonjia turns to me and says with her eyes bugging out of her head, "He's always doing this with his eyes every scene." I then look up at the screen and he's doing exactly what she said. We couldn't stop giggling until the scene was over. I tried to stop giggling but the more I tried worse it got. It was great.

Compounded with that scene was the fact that the only thing I REALLY know Peter O'Toole from is Supergirl. Yes, yes I know he did Lawrence of Arabia, but Supergirl was a staple in my house and that's what I remember him from, so it's a little hard to take him seriously. I also remember my mother walking by while Ady and I watched Supergirl and saying, "He really must have needed the money" in a sad sort of way. I think she may say the same thing again if she sees Troy.

Besides the buggy eyes there was on this Brad Pitt extravaganza Brad's burly arms and other anatomy parts to oogle over. Also random spraying of blood even when it looked like nobody got hit was gross while at the same time fascinating. The weak love story given to Achilles was also an amusing side note to curse the writers over, while at the same time being able to laugh at the situations they got themselves into.

And Paris! Good gods! They should have killed him and Helen off in the first 10 minutes they way they were played. Sappy and with no backbone. They come across as two idiots who throw nations into a war because they can't stay out of each others pants. At least Homer gave them the excuse that Helen was given Paris by Aphrodite. At least that is divine intervention. At least that is some sort of fate. This, this was just two selfish people.

And where were the gods! I wanted to see them taking sides. I wanted to see them play with the mere mortals. I wanted to see them fighting among themselves like the mortals. It lacked something without out the gods interfering.

The only good part, or should I say not silly sappy part was Hector. Hector was defending his country. Hector was cleaning up his brother's mess. Hector merely wanted to grow old with his wife and child. Hector was Maximus from Gladiator. Nice to see they're borrowing characters from other films.

All in all I had a great time despite the fact that the script was horrible and the movie over acted. There were great bodies to look at and plenty of things to laugh over. All in all a fun filled romp.

I woke up last night to my whole room shaking. The bed felt like it was moving sideways. Things on the walls were shaking. It felt like huge earthquake. I sat up in bed and things were still shaking. As soon as it seemed to stop i jumped out of bed opened the door and made Ribbon come in the room. Why? Because I wanted to make sure that he was okay. Then being the Californian I am went back to bed thinking, "That was bizarre. I hope the gas lines are okay. I'm too tired to bother trying to find out where they are and check them".

I was convinced this morning that there was an actual earthquake, but since it was in the middle of the night and I was half asleep, I decided to check the internet to see if I had been having some bizarre dream. No sign of a huge earthquake on CNN.com

It seems that in addition to having dreams where I am falling and wake up when I slam into the mattress, I'm now having dreams where my whole room is shaking. Am I having waking dreams? Did I sleep walk? I'm a little disturbed.

HOWEVER, after having just finished writing the above Krista, my roomate called (She was off camping in Morrow Bay this weekend) and asked if everything was okay, because she heard there was an earthquake centered near campus. Apparently it was centered 10 miles off the coast of Isla Vista which is at the most five miles from me.

I'm not crazy! I was laughing so hard when Krista called. I'm not insane. I actually was awakened by the room shaking. whew! No damages apparently. Just me questioning my sanity.

Last night I'm happily watching the end of friends and I hear this god awful yowling. I jumped up ran to the back door and yelled for Ribbon. I saw nothing so I went towards my room and Kitten who had houdinied her way out of the house AGAIN ran back in like something was chasing her. Ribbon looked at me sheepishly as if to say, "She started it. She was trying to eat the wet food, god damnit. I had to defend it."

Problem solved and I watched the end of Friends. Later I went back to my room and was watching something else when I heard the god awful yowling again. I ran out to yell at Ribbon and he was sitting right by my door staring at a big fat cat who had the gaul to yowl at him in HIS yard. (I actually think I heard this cat earlier and not Ribbon yowling at Kitty. Maybe Ribbon and Kitty were ganging up on the fat cat trying to eat Ribbon's food or invade their space or whatever. It would be kinda cute if they did, although Kitty is tiny. She's no good in a fight.)

It wasn't till I came outside though that Ribbon made a move towards the fat one. Fatty ran away when it saw me and I grabbed Ribbon before he could run after it. When I took Ribbon back to my room the Fatso came back and started yowling outside my room. I couldn't tell if this cat was taunting poor Ribbon or in heat and looking for some action.

I thought that was the end of it. Ribbon settled down for the night and I went to sleep, but then early this morning Ribbon was hitting his toy that squeaks in an effort to make me let him out. (It's like a freaking doorbell. The cat has got me too well trained.) Ten minutes after I let him out the damn yowling started again. Again Fatty is out there. Again Ribbon is just sitting staring until I make an appearance. Then he was off after Fatty who just sorta stood there. I had to run after Ribbon. I grabbed him just before he got to Fatty who finally with me so close took off.

It's so weird. I've maybe seen two cats in this neighborhood the whole time I've lived here and not very often and now all of a sudden my cat has got very own stalker. Not that Ribbon's not willing to fight this cat or whatever it is this cat is wanting to do. He so is. But he's old! He's gotta learn he can't go charging after all these young cats like he used to. (Except for Kitty, who he beats up all the time, but she's half the size of him.) He's been coming home with scratches on his head lately. I think with all the warm weather the cats in the neighborhood are coming out of the woodwork. Ribbon himself has been unable to stay inside. I come home from work and he's laying outside in the sun almost in a coma from the heat.

I'm just waiting to see what happens when Kitty sneaks out and runs into Fatso. Kitty is a fraidy cat. She's go running to Mama.

It's a zoo at our house I tell you. A zoo. And soon one more animal will be added. Rocky where are you? Ribbon needs someone else he can feel good about beating up.....

I have not written anything for so long because of lack of anything to say, but yesterday I read this article and I was so flabbergasted and amused that I just had to share. (The link above may not work as you have to register to latimes.com to access articles.)

The article is about 80 year old, Father Gabriele Amorth, the Vatican's top exorcist, who "does battle with Satan." Now while this man believes completely in what he does and I admire that in his own way he is trying to banish evil in the world, the things described in this article are to me, so absurd that I laughed myself silly at lunch.

Ahem, for example, "A confused world engulfed in tragedy and chaos is turning increasingly to black magic, the occult and fortune-telling, he said, proof that the devil and his handmaidens are having a field day." (Giggle! Freaking Handmadiens!)

Apparently there is a huge percentage of people doing evil spells. Where are these people? Where can I find them? Are they accurately depicted in the horrible movie The Order?Or are they merely learning black magic from the Harry Potter books? (FROM THE ARTICLE: "Amorth sees the devil in many places: A couple of years ago he fought to ban publication of the Harry Potter books because, he said, they teach sorcery to children.")

Why didn't I learn sorcery from Harry Potter? Was I not paying attention? I mean is it possible to go to London, find Diagon Alley, buy a wand and then follow Harry along in his classes an learn magic? HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED THAT?! I want in damnit!

I know that some people take possession very seriously, but how can they expect anyone else to? One example from the article of a woman who apparently among other things, vomited needles while possessed. "Lucia, the patient, believes that her troubles started when an enemy — a man who wanted her as a lover but whom she spurned — cast an evil spell on her. She fell ill, experienced terrible pains, lost weight."

I guess the evil eye is still being used in full force. Maybe we should all be walking around making the sign against it in case we dump somebody. The whole thing is ridiculous.

I'd be curious as to how many of Father Amorth's exorcisms are performed in Italy and how many are elsewhere. Even the article implies that this phenomenon is more prevalent there. "And in Italy, superstition remains a powerful force. An estimated 10 million Italians — 17% of the population — use the services of fortune-tellers, faith healers and magicians who cast evil spells, according to a 2002 study by the Eurispes research institute. They pay nearly $6 billion a year to about 22,000 purveyors of such wizardry."

$6 BILLION DOLLARS! Does anyone else find that outrageous? Maybe I'm naive. Maybe American's spend this much on fortune-tellers, psychics and healers, but it seems extraodinary for a place where the Roman Catholic Church is centered. Or then again maybe not. There are already so many myths and lies within the church why not go outside it for something that will effect your everyday life.

I hope most of you will find the amusement that I did in article. As for the people who believe they are possessed my heart goes out to them as most of them probably have a serious mental disorder. As to the small percentage of them that perhaps are truly possessed, well they have Father Amorth on their side. "I've never been afraid of the devil," Amorth said. "In fact, I can say he is often scared of me."