I ended up taking a cab to work and didn't know whether I would get there on time. But I did. I go down the West Side Highway and lots of times traffic is at a crawl, especially once you're on level ground and there are traffic lights - in the fifties - making it touch and go whether I'll arrive on time, which then defeats the whole purpose of why i took a cab in the first place. But nevermind. Traffic was moving today, thank God, Cause I only had a half hour. And I just made it. Clocked in at 5:29. My starting time is 5:30 and I've been making it a point for the past few months (ever since I was put on warning for a few things at work, one of them being my arrival time) to arrive at work at least a half hour before. If I start out really early, it doesn't matter if the train hangs out inbetween stations or I have to wait 10 or fifteen minutes for a bus. Today it was back to praying for us not to have to wait in traffic one moment longer than necessary. I was really anxious. But on the way the sky was an absolutely gorgeous blue with a few clouds. It was really beautiful out. The air was crystal clear. The Hudson was on my right and there was a sailboat out on the river, one with 3 rather large sails. What kind of life does a person have to be able to be sailing on the Hudson River in the middle of the week at 5:15PM in the afternoon? Maybe it was tourists. Several people were standing at the water's edge (not literally of course) with their backpacks on their back just looking out at the water, or New Jersey, and then there were the bikers and runners on the West Side Path. I didn't see anyone on the trapeze today. Maybe I was looking on the east side. But a helicopter was landing at the heliport. I don't think you could get me in one of those. But I am itching to try the trapeze. Acutally, I had moved from the right side of the cab - one of the large ones - to the left side because the sun was so strong. I tried to see how the buildings looked in the daytime. That's the side I'm on at night, going home. I saw a woman exit a fairly new large building complex, one I'm not familiar with, walking her dog. The building almost looked unlived in and the exit/entrance was on the very busy West Street, even tho it was back aways. And I saw 2 new streets I'd never heard of: Laight and Hubert. I had known someone by the name of Hubert. I had hired him at my previous full time job. A law firm in the Lipstick Building on Third Avenue. I think I'd hired him for a third shift operator. He was a young smart black guy. Very computer savvy. Kind of short. And after I left, he held down my position as Supervisor. I imagined telling someone I lived on Hubert Street or Laight Street. Who ever heard of Hubert Street and what kind of directions do you give? At the very large ball field at about Chambers Street, which is about 3 or 4 blocks from work, lots of kids were playing various kinds of ball games. Some parents, it looked like, were standing around looking very unathletic and then there were other adults participating. On the street corner, I saw some rather large built women. They didn't look like they could participate in the athletic activities either. And I gave myself a small lecture that said, "and if you don't start back with your exercise routine, you're going to be just like that person on the corner, young lady."

My day had not gone as planned and as an added little pinprick, I had discovered about 4 small dots of purple on my white shirt. I had succumbed to a Berry Lean yesterday and no matter how hard you try to sip carefully, something seeps out or you drip as you're drinking or sucking the liquid. Just last week I had spilled some vegetarian chili on this same shirt and had had to do a whole number with clorox bleach and seltzer. That was on the bottom of the shirt and later I found some on the sleeve. These little dots were right as I looked down upon my chest. I thought I might get to Fed Ex Kinko's today to hopefully have a final session about my cd booklet but I didn't get up early. I also hadn't set the alarm which I pretty much don't do these days, but even if I had set the alarm I'm sure I would have gone back to sleep. Once I did get up I went right to the piano. I was playing for a little while and then I began to think of my sister in Los Angeles. We hadn't talked for a while. It was around 1 something so she should have been up. I stopped playing to give her a call and I guess that's what turned the rest of my 3 hours around. The 3 hours I had before having to go to work. She was not awake and began to tell me about the previous night and why she was still very tired. She had had a social evening with a friend/lover(?)and she'd had champagne and a pina colada. Just when she was ready to go home someone called - a record producer that she hadn't heard from for a long time. She didn't really know him that well but he was supposed to have called sometime ago and hadn't. It seems L.A. is notorious for people saying they will get back to you and just never doing it. My sister is a singer, actress who is earning her living as a massage therapist. That's why she was calling. He asked her if she would be able to give a massage. It turned out that she gave a massage to Mariah Carey. And then she gave the record producer's assistant her cd and video. Hopefully SOMETHING will happen. In the midst of talking someone calls her so she says she'll be right back. Before I can object. She's away for some time and I'm getting pissed because I hate to be on hold and also because I think call waiting's rude. She finally comes back and says it's the guy that's working on her refinancing for her home. Well the last time I was talking to her the same thing happened. She put me on call waiting for him, a while, and then she had to get off the phone and do something with him that had to do with her refinancing. She said she would call me back. I went back to playing the piano and a little while later the phone rings. I figured it was her so I went to answer it and I was also going to tell her that I couldn't talk because I was practicing. The whole conversation then is about this financing thing and she says she'll call me back. Okay I say and we hang up. And then I called her right back and said that she wasn't to call me back because I was practicing. It wasn't very long after I was playing again that the phone rang. And when I picked it up and it was her. I said, I thought I told you not to call me because I was practicing. So then I got the whole story or rather the punchline. She's been trying to get her house refinanced since early August and it hasn't happened yet. But in the meantime she still owes a mortgage payment for September and it tuns out the guy she's working with thought she wanted it done for October. Bottom Line: She needs $1,900.00 and she doesn't have it. She tried to tell the Bank people that she had a relative involved in Katrina. That gem of a story was suggested by the refinancing guy. But since it wasn't "her personally", the Bank said, it didn't matter. No go. This is not the first time my sister has called needing money. It's not like every month she calls, but this has happened quite a few times. I even think she'd ask me for money when she was living with her boyfriend. But who's counting. Anyway, usually she says to send, if I can, whatever I want. In the past I've had the money to give her - I say give, because she's never paid me back. Well, maybe once. But at this point in time, I really don't have any extra money. So her payment is due on September 30th and it's for a lot of money. I tell her that I absolutely absolutely have to have it back. And my voice reflects that I mean what I'm saying. She tells me that she'll be getting money from her life insurance in about 15 days or less and the rest she can give me when the refinancing is finished. So what am I supposed to do? Be a bad guy? And then suppose something happens and for some reason the life insurance payment doesn't come through or the refinancing doesn't go through. It's the end of the month, which also means the beginning of the month and bills are due. By this time it's 2:15 in New York and the banks close at 3. I tell her I'll put the money in her account. In order to do this, I have to get dressed and go out, etc. Which means I have to stop practicing and most likely that'll be it for the piano today. Maybe I had a half hour to 45 minutes today tops. And of course that was the case. First I had to get dressed and wash up and stuff. Then I went to my bank (HSBC), 2 blocks away. Two long blocks. And thankfully there was no line. Then I walked another block to her bank, Citibank, where there was a line. Then I went to the grocery store, went to PetCo for some cat food and then walked a couple of blocks to Mana, a macriobiotic restaurant, where I'd ordered food to take with me to work for dinner and then took a cab home since I had quite a few packages. I got home, had to feed the cats, give them water and change the litter. Called my sister (who rather surprisingly called me her guardian angel), gathered up garbage, ate some cereal, traipsed after the cats in the hallway, which meant I had to go up a few flights and get one, bring him home and then go back and get the other one. By this time it was 4:45 and I should have left the house at 4:00. Maybe 4:15 at the latest. And even though I had taken out some money for myself when I went to the bank, because of my prior excursions and expenses, I was short for cab fare down to the World Financial Center. So I had to go to the bank at the corner before hailing a cab. And it's not "my" bank so I get charged a buck fifty.

Well it's Friday. And I'm at work and was assigned to the desk of another word processor who is assigned to 2 or 3 attorneys, so she does not sit in the word processing center. So because I've never sat at her computer, after I logged on it took a very long time to log me on and then it shut down and had to power up again. I just want to come in and sit down, turn on the machine and start. But no. So that's one thing. Lots of phones ringing. That's another. So i tried to go to windows media and get some music. Very frustrating. The other thing is I don't really know any of the attorneys over here. So if I answered the phone, which I'm not, I wouldn't know whether the attorney was here or not. I don't know their names or who they are when they walk by. I suppose I could get up and walk past the offices and try to get acquainted. That would be something. So I made the effort.

I meditated this morning. Well it was this afternoon by the time I got up. I had dozed through an episode of ER and golf was now on. Like I said, I meditated. For fifteen minutes. In the bathroom. I'm not sure it helped me. I went to make a phone call and there was no dial tone. I kept checking for a few minutes and then knew I had to dress and go outside and call Time Warner. I had to pay for the time on the phone - a dollar - and I lost time that I could have been home at the piano. I asked the customer service person why my phone was out and my cable was on. Her answer: sometimes that happens. She gave me a surge (whatever that means) and by the time I got back home there was indeed a dial tone. And I didn't have to reset anything as she was suggesting I do. I did play the piano for about 30 minutes or so and that felt good. And I got a cab pretty quickly. At 79th Street there was a huge tieup but it disappeared after 10 blocks or so and traffic on the West Side Highway was nil from then on until the World Financial Center. So now I'm here and its (a) a long time to power on; (b) an attorney has his speaker phone on and the other person he's talking to has a very loud voice; (3) an attorney came over to ask for help. I brought up the document and it started to automatically print out the whole thing (glitch 1). Miraculously I solved her problem but then the system said that I was still in 2 versions of the document, even though I had closed out. And this is what happens and kevin wrote me a note about it. The HELP DESK solved the problem but the person said that they accessed a different version of Imanage, which alarmed me because I thought the correction I'd made might not be there, and then she said in this situation you have to power off and then power back on again. It happens periodically she said. No other explanation or way to prevent.

Piano-wise: I worked on a section of the Waldstein and a section of the oscar peterson tune. They both show great improvement. So I should be happy. I'm still not able to let the rest of this stuff just slide off me. Especially as it's happening. I get pissed, upset, agitated, worked up, out-of-sorts. But I don't go and take things out on people physically. I say that because I bought the Daily News today (for 50 cents instead of 25 cents) and I read about another female rapper. Her name is Foxy Brown. She will have a trial date for December 5. The reason: she is charged with assaulting 2 nail salon workers back in August 2004. Apparently she entered the salon (in Chelsea) at closing time and wanted a manicure and a pedicure. Because they were closing the told her she could have the manicure, but she'd have to pay for the package deal and come back for the pedicure. Foxy refused the deal offered, words escalated and she ended up hitting both workers with the cell phone she had in her fist, and kicked one of them. The prosecution has offered her a plea to a misdemeanor with 10 days of community service and it was reported that Ms. Brown said, "I feel like I'm being railroaded. Plus she has a hearing problem that she's scheduled to get surgery for that she said will "drop her public image". I have no idea what that means. And then a couple of pages later I read that Kate Moss, the model, has already been dropped by Burbewrry, Chanel and H&M and that because of tabloid photos showing her apparently arranging and snorting lines of white powder. Rimmel (whoever that is)will probably follow suit. The article stated that it's known that models do cocaine; that a couple of the companies that had hired her did so because she is a cutting-edge personality who brings a whiff of rock n' roll to their brands. Then the article predicted someone else will probably triple her contract and give her a giant deal that generates much publicity. The consensus of the article was that this will blow over.

Going to jail. I feel very inadequate tackling this subject. But I'm doing it anyway. And however it comes out, it comes out. I don't feel like I know what I'm doing. And that's probably a good reason for trying to do this. I'm going to brainstorm or cluster about jail and use what comes up. Maybe as subheadings.
Maybe include some prison films I've seen - or haven't seen.

I have some feelings about Lil Kim going to jail. I have feelings about being in jail period.

In the 1970’s I had a girlfriend who was a filmmaker. When I met her she was a film editor. She was married and they had a little girl.
Then they had a little boy. Her husband had stopped making films and took a test to be a stockbroker, which he passed and began trading in commodities. I had become very good friends with them and in fact, I was made the godmother of her son. One day my friend told me that her husband had been arrested. It was true. He was arrested and he subsequently went to jail. He had participated in this fraud, but it was hard to think of this person I knew as a criminal. I didn't go to see him in jail (I think he requested for me not to) but I did write him. I'm not sure of his sentence, so I'll guess that it was 1 year to a year and a half. Maybe he didn't do his whole time. Basically he was like me. We were the same ilk and I certainly wasn't going to jail. It was horrible to even think of him in jail. And I think his picture (his prison picture) even appeared on the front page of The New York Times, accompanying the article about his crime.

My 2nd close affiliation with prison had to do with my sister. It wasn't her but it was her boyfriend. She wasn't involved, so it wasn't as if she was hanging out with the wrong crowd and engaging in dubious behavior. Her boyfriend was Puerto Rican. I don't think I even knew anyone Puerto Rican when I was growing up. My sister is 13 years younger than myself and times had changed. Even tho she went to a religious high school and I went to Music & Art. Also, my sister partied when she was growing up and she hung out with lots of different kinds of people. I didn't have her temperament and was also not allowed to party. My mother's rules. But interestlingly enough, she did allow me to take little sojourns to Staten Island with these group of teenagers, older than myself, one of whom became my boyfriend. I was 14 at the time. And at the same time that she was being lenient she had it in her head that I was fooling around sexually and was always yelling at me and giving me lectures about being a "nice girl", or something to that effect, which felt like I was being smacked around.

My sister's boyfriend's name was Poncho. I don't think I'd ever met him until after he was out of jail. I think he was very possessive and they were always arguing. My sister at this time had left college (after a year or 2), and was pursuing her singing career. She had performed in Disneyland and at the other theme park in the same area as The Grand Ol Oprey. Poncho was not in her league intellectually, artistically, or any kind of way. And I think he was jealous of her striking out on her own (which meant she would probbaly be meeting other guys), as well as her talent (which took her away from him). I also think he tried to involve her in his little dabblings or else he would want her to bail him out of his letiile escapades, before something really serious happened. Ultimately, he was putting her in danger and that was probably a bone of contention between them as well. Poncho stayed out of jail for awhile but then inevitably he did something silly or irresponsible and ended up back in jail. Poncho wasn't really a criminal either. My sister finally ended their relationship. But probably not before he borrowed a large sum of money from her and didn't have the means to pay it back.

My 3rd experience with jail is more hands on. I went to visit someone in prison. How did this happen? I was working at a law firm as a full-time employee and became friendly with one of the attorneys. This was soon after I had become a Buddhist. During one particular time when we were sharing stories it came to the fore that he himself was actually a Buddhist, of the same kind as myself, even tho he wasn't really practifing and had sponsored a woman (she was his shakubuku) and she had done something and was in jail. If I remember correctly, it had something to do with money. She may have been involved with Columbia University. A teacher, maybe. And I don't think she was American. As a practicing Buddhist, members of my Han were frequently visiting othere members; either at their home, to chant with them, or visiting them in the hospital. So even tho I didn't know her, I decided that as she was a Buddhist, I would go visit her and chant with her. If it was agreeable with her. And my friend, the attorney, spoke with her and found out that it would be okay for me to visit. I must say that I had become quite taken with this attorney and may not have been so eager to do this had it just been anybody. But I was also a very strong and eager Buddhist in those days, so it might have been possible. At any rate, she and I, by way of the attorney, agreed on a date and I went to see her in prison. She was in Bedford.

Bedford is in the town of Bedford. It's little and quaint and then there's this prison. It's only for women. I think I took a train and then took a bus or a cab to the prison. Approaching it you see lots of barbed wire. I remember that visual impacting me. We had to check our belongings and I'm not sure whether we were searched or frisked. Rather than going inside the prison itself, visiting was done in its own building, so there were no bars or gates to go through and no feeling of being imprisoned. You could see outside. There were 2 large rooms. The main waiting area, where ahead there was an officer on a raised platform, and to the right of that was a door where the prisoners came through. There was anopther toom farhter away where prisoners and visitors met and where children stayed or met with their parents. The woman I was there to see only knew me by name and I only knew her by name. No pictures had been exchanged. And not only did I not know her, but I didn't know how involved she was with Buddhism. I had come on a mission to chant with her, but I knew it was possible that she might not want to chant. I was nervous. By my making the trip tho, I was making a cause, for her and for myself. No matter what the outcome, I had taken the action to go see her and strengthen her Buddhist practice and she had taken the action to see me.

While waiting I thought about the type of crimes that had been committed; what it was like to actually be in jail. I saw the children with their mothers and thought about what if my mother had been in jail when I was a little girl. Or suppose my father had commited a crime and had gone to jail.

I think the guard must have had my name and called my name after she stepped through the door. We said hi and then moved into the other larger room that I had been looking at.

So what do I want to say about jail

Monday, September 19.

A friend of mine has a birthday today. He's 64 years young. A Virgo. I've got a few Virgo birthdays in my family. My sister is/was September 9th and a cousin on my father's side is also September 9th. My mother's is September 10th, however, she's deceased. My maternal grandmother's I think was September 5th. My very first piano teacher had a birthday in September; a chiropractor who I saw for almost 12 years exclusively up until maybe a year ago, has a birthday in September; an attorney here at my job has a birthday in September and my most recent cat sitter's birthday was September 15th. I think I've put down all the September ones but Virgo actually begins in August - on August 23, so there are 2 more. My aunt, who recently had a stroke and is recovering, had a birthday on August 24th and my father's birthday is August 28th. He's also deceased. And then there's another one. A cellist I knew. I accompanied him in the seventies. Maybe 1974 or 1975. I don't really remember how we met. But I remember taking food or money to him up in the Bronx when he had either Hepatitis or a bad case of Mononucleosis. I held whatever it was out to him, he opened the door a crack and then I left. It was after he recovered that he had asked me to be his accompanist. I didn;t become his girlfriend but I did sleep with him occasionally. I think he had a real thing for me but the feeling wasn't mutual. Consequently, we ended up in quite a few arguments. Even when we were in Detroit for his concert we ended up haveing a huge tiff. The concert was reviewed and I think it was more than favorable, considering how much we were at odds. I'll call him Earl. And I think the fact that I wasn't smitten with him upset him and he used to be nasty to me as a result. It was never real physical abuse but it could have gone into that territory. He would try to physically control me though. We'd be walking and he'd put his hand on the back of my neck - tight. Or put his arm around me - tight. He would always get me in a vise. And I was always bucking against this. I know we did have sex but I don't think it was a regular thing. It could have only been once or twice. And that was also probably the reason for his wanting to control me. He was tall, thin but solid, very smart, witty, wore glasses, dressed very well, was neat and well groomed and loved bean pie. And yes, he was a good musician. At the time he was more prominent in musical circles than I and was probably up and coming as a young black cellist. He had studied with Pablo Casals as well as Mstislav Rostropovich. In fact, I remember attended a Rostropovich concert at Lincoln Center with him. I think our relationship ended after the Detroit concert and my only link with him was a fellow composer, conductor who lived in my neighborhood. I would see him in passing over the years and he would ask if I'd seen "Earl" and/or tell me what Earl was doing. It came to pass the Earl may have had a nervous breakdown. At any rate, he left New York and went home, to a nearby Eastern city. I've never seen him to this day, however, I believe he's recovered and is teaching music at a biblical university. I often wonder if he married and whether he had any children. It appears that Earl also played with Duke Ellington, Miles Davis and the New York Philharmonic orchestra.

I don't know where this came from or why.

The United Nations had a conference this week. All week and it just so happened I had to be in midtown. I went to 46th and Vanderbilt to the Fed Ex Kinko's to get the visuals done for my CD. Yesterday I went and took the C train downtown to 50th Street and 8th Avenue. Tried to get a cab crosstown, because I thought it would be faster but couldn't get a cab. The bus came so of course I got on. Got off at 50th Street and 5th Avenue. By Saks 5th. I just remembered this. Well 2 things. I went to sit down in the 2-seaters on my left as I'm facing the back of the bus. I was going to sit down behind a black guy and his daughter - I would guess she was his daughter. Why not. Just as I was about to sit down they both got up and surprise, surprise. I don't know what you would call him. I don't think he was a dwarf. But maybe he was. He had a normal torso and then these very short legs. He almost looked like those people you see on "carts"? that have no legs. But he had legs. He was probably as short, or tall, as his daughter.

So I have a block or 2 to go before I get off. I'm thinking to get off at 5th Avenue because I miscalculate where Vanderbilt is. It's after Madison not before. Anyway. There's a man 2 seats in front of me, on my left, in the one-seaters. And I see his wallet on the floor by him. I yelled out to him about his wallet and he woke up. I think he had fallen asleep. He picked up his wallet, thanked me, sort of looked through it but kept it in his hands. And I could see that in another few minutes he would be falling asleep again and his wallet would be on the floor again. So I called out to him to put his wallet in his pocket, or to put it away. He realized and said, oph yeah, and put it in his pocket, which he did with some difficulty. There were already some things in the pocket. The pocket being on the side of his pants. After putting his wallet away he got up and sat on the front seat, on the same side as myself. I kind of felt sorry for him. I looked to see if he had a ring on. Maybe he had been married at one time and was now alone. But I didn't see a ring. Then it was time for me to get off. He got up to get off also, only he got out the front door and I got out the back.
I should have name this Freaky Thursday, cause I've been writing about yesterday, not today.