An Update on Affordable Housing; Quitclaim Resulting in Reunion, Thoughts on Bartenders and/or Mixologists; Banished to my Room Watching Brave

The rumor of 500 required affordable units in the Little Mountain Development was grossly exaggerated but instead is: “close to 300, or close to 20%”. You heard it here first and my source is reliable. The completion date was supposed to be 2017 according to the ‘art’ – I forgot to find out about that. So tune it later.
I had a huge (and welcome) surprise in my life a couple of days ago. In order to appreciate the nature and quality of this event it is necessary to reveal more about my slightly sordid past. I have had three husbands but there was also a man I lived with – without the benefit of clergy. I am not very good with dates but it was during law school days. I graduated from law school in about 1983 so I lived with that man for about five years. During his tenure I worked full time, drove to San Francisco four nights a week for law school, cooked etc. and his teenage daughter lived with us for some period of time. I was a driven woman. I knew this man had died. But then, a couple of days ago an email from the trust department of a bank in Marin County arrived. I dutifully responded. This man and myself purchased a condo together, an agreement was signed as to its disposition upon break up. I left him, evoked the clause of the contract, he demurred, i sued. Guess who won? Well this property is being sold for the benefit of the heirs but there is a “cloud on the title”. I voluntarily agreed to sign a quit claim deed so that the property can be quickly transferred. Sign the papers, pop down to the U.S. Embassy for notarization, back to Trump International Hotel for Fed. Ex. envelope, off it goes – magic.

It was suggested that I attempt to profit from this transaction. No, said I. I do not care about money. Out of this all I get a fabulous benefit. I have always, always wondered about what happened to C, the once teenage daughter. I am on her mind as well and so we will be able to be in contact with one another. It brings joy to my heart. I have led such a fragmented life – pulling the pieces together fills me with contentment.
As usual the Trump aids and abets my efforts in life. An email is sent to Triple C. with a pdf of the document. He efficiently responds:

Triple C. Good morning Ms. McBride. Printed and at my desk for you.

Me: You are a wonderful person and I cannot wait to see you. I will take the extra precaution of getting dressed before I head downstairs. Alexis

Triple C. Hahaha yes I don’t think I need to see the new version of the Emperor’s clothes 2017 this early in the morning.

Me: Coward
So I recovered the document, and sat around the Lower Lobby feeling chipper and writing the blog. I had eleven hours of sleep the night before (underestimating in a prior correspondence) . I have not been able to sleep like that in months and months and months. It is a wondrous feeling. I am not sure what is happening to me but who could complain?
I had a rather profound conversation with a mixologist at Drai’s prior to the commencement of the Saturday Pool Party. We spoke of the nature of friendship deciding that it was a ‘non verbal contract.” In a real friendship you just are, you don’t keep saying it all of the time. One can refer to another as friend Bruce, friend Colette, friend Jim, etc etc. but a true friendship is unspoken. Mixologists (aka bartenders) are often very insightful about life and some of the best conversations take place in their presence. It is their job to observe and interact with people without their pretensions intact, in actuality they are paid to pour, listen and speak. All three ‘sons’ serve in that capacity, as does Prince Andrew of Trump and Chappie (also known as MMM). We have learned a great deal from one another over these last three months. Goodness gracious we have laughed a great deal as well.
Today I have been banished to my room, it was either that or get away from here altogether. Why? Today is Sunday and conflict may arise with the temporary visitors to the pool and jacuzzi. Triple C and Triple P gave me no sympathy at all just sneering at my proposed noodle and egg kettle dinner. “Oh how the mighty have fallen” said Triple C. I did OK for a while but got really bored. I am now watching a Disney film called Brave about a Scottish princess who defies convention. It is helping a little, vicarious living and all. Learning grace is such an effort but summers in Vancouver do no last long. Or so I have heard.
Edith Wharton said in the Triple S. birthday book: “Life is always a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope.” I guess at this particular moment life is feather bed, not actually to my liking. Could there be something in between please?
The picture is of the prize in the Kinder Surprise and the gem I got for my birthday from the staff at Trump International Hotel. It is supposed to make me calm. It is not working. Only two hours until freedom.

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