.
12 Fo we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.

From Ephesians 6 Above is English Standard translation, here is Amplified, and at the bottom is The Message:

12 For we are not wrestling with flesh and blood [contending only with physical opponents], but against the despotisms, against the powers, against [the master spirits who are] the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spirit forces of wickedness in the heavenly (supernatural) sphere.

13 Therefore put on God's complete armor, that you may be able to resist and stand your ground on the evil day [of danger], and, having done all [the crisis demands], to stand [firmly in your place].

THE MESSAGE TRANSLATION (My favorite, it sounds like a Black Preacher shouting truth at you):
A Fight to the Finish

10-12 And that about wraps it up. God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we'll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.

13-18 Be prepared. You're up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it's all over but the shouting you'll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You'll need them throughout your life. God's Word is an indispensable weapon.

Corruption and Lack of Accountability All Over the Place

.
Do you believe this?

"It was London-based BP, with quarterly profits that rose to $6.1 billion from $2.6 billion a year earlier, that was the lightning rod for ire over huge earnings in the midst of a deadly and growing disaster."

From L.A. Times today. when we are realizing the extent of damage in the BP Oil Spill. Off Topc, but point is, there is a reason for Oversight. All corporations put profit above human needs. The thing that destroyed the Catholic Church was when it went corporate. They then created the Catholic Pedophile Priest Disaster with hundreds of thousands of children damaged to keep the church from losing business.

BP Oil cuts overhead thanks to the removal of Oversight, i.e., regulation, under the Bush Administration, and BP profits soar, more than ever. Then their blowout on an oil rig destroys the Gulf Coast.

Oversight is not a Commie plot.

Oversight is the Goal of efforts to investigate the Church internationally and as a U.S. Federal Case. We gave to make a federal case out of it and create a way to have oversight, because no institution that gets this close to families and children should operate without someone over them who knows what they are doing.

So their crimes end up better reported than treatises in Latin sent to the Vatican.

Oversight.

I think the only way to get accountability in your religion for Catholics is to drop out and join a Baptist Church or something nondenominational. In local churches that I've gone to for decades now, the members vote on everything, in endless monthly meetings, endless and dull meetings, yes, but they don't just give the problem to the priest, who passes it to the monsignor, and then criminal activity ends up being written up in Latin to be hidden in the Vatican.

Catholic members of churches should just take over the churches, buy them at real estate auctions, and continue Church, without the Vatican.

In a New America with Oversight of Religious Institutions.

Catholicism is ingrained in the Dark and Middle Ages, its practices just don't work in a world where people watch out for each other.

Thank God.

God does not limit himself to Catholic Churches, that's one of their many lies.
.

Ruminations:

.
A little too dilettante for a priest, that's how I remember him, although last time I saw him I was age seven.

AS SOON AS my dad was buried in 1997, the funeral was over, my mom relaxed, got a salacious grin on her face and said, “Now I wonder where Father Horne is.” Like she’d been daydreaming about him for 50 years.

Also, female family members always remarked that he was “So handsome”then got all dreamy eyed. Fr. Thomas Barry Horne probably had some good sides. I'm beginning to realize the real criminals here were not these sick priests but the people in charge who didn't do anything about it.

Remember, my mom was an atheist, and a former flapper. She married my dad because he was a good catch, a good looking guy working his way through lawschool in the middle of The Great Depression of the 1930s, when mom went from Chicago Art Institute student with money from home to a waitress in Hardings Restaurant, where my dad was manager by day and going to La Salle University at night. My mom, daughter of Polish immigrants who came to the U.S. for their freedom to be atheists, had no clue about my dad's religion

Becoming Catholic came with the marriage for my mom, but she never bought into the god thing at all, and she retained her "free love" ideas from the Roaring Twenties. My mom was the conduit. Her willingness to diddle around with Father Horne while my dad was on business trips, then let the priest watch over her daughters while mom got "the break she so needed" -the door was opened for the predator to get access to the children.

It was late 1940s, early 1950s. People did not talk about any sexual matters in those days. So of course children raped by pedophiles in those years never told anyone about it.

For decades.
.

Anger Management Notes April 27th

.
Got to get past the thing that is making you angry, some people call this "forgiveness," I prefer to call it resolution. The pastor who runs this class says, "Think of all you did and God forgave you, gives you another chance always," but "we're not God," so we can only strive for that.

Point is holding onto the anger acts as an

ANCHOR

holding you back and keeping you down.

Me, I say, when you see something that keeps happening and keeps making you angrier and angrier, you have to turn the anger into laughter, find a way to make it funny.

Anger and Laughter, same degree of passion, same expulsion of energy, much different end results.

I am learning to make humor out of this evil that will not go away, and does not stop, no matter how many statements the V's make to the media.

So I'm thanking God right now for giving me ALL THIS GREAT MATERIAL to make into comedy.
.

Song streaming in my head this AM, John Lennon

.
"I was dreaming of the past and my heart was beating fast. I began to lose control. I began to lose control."



I'm Just A Jealous Guy

That line sums up human experience. We are imperfect, we do things that hurt other humans just responding with human emotion. Most of us have good intentions.

Some don't, most do.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry that I made you cry."
.

Yes, Establish the Work of Our Hands!

.
15 Make us glad for as many days as you have(Z) afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil.

16 Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children.

17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us. Yes, establish the work of our hands!

***
Psalm 90 English Standard translation
.

Reading through Psalms online, slowly, came to Number 90 this morning. Amazes me how often, reading Psalms and Proverbs, I feel like I knoe what the people writing it were saying, even though it was thousands of years ago.

Like this passage as well:

- all our days pass away under your wrath;
we bring our years to an end like a sigh.
10
The years of our life are seventy,
or even by reason of strength eighty;

yet their span[c] is but toil and trouble;
they are soon gone, and we fly away.

****
ME: IT'S REALLY ENDLESS

For thousands of years humans have tried to put the Spirit into words, so don't take it literally, just get the ... gist of what the words say. Read Psalm 90 here
.

Freedom Through Truth Posts on Jeff Anderson is Free From Truth

.
Comment Posted this AM:

What Lena says here is a rehashing of old Church attorney statements, not relevant to this case. (CofA NOTE: Lena, the attorney defending the Pope in U.S. Courts, must have recently hired a publicist).

Anderson deserves every dime he gets for his work, it's not publicity, it's perseverance and tenacity. Once you see evil, if you don't confront it, you are abetting the evil. Read City of Angels at http://cityofangels8.blogspot.com for the total truth on the pedophile priest epidemic in the Catholic Church. No matter who it hurts, these storires are true.

Anderson's work is relentless pursuit of the truth. Take off your blinders.

Posted at a blog with the audacity to publish this article on Anderson and call itself "freedom through truth" blog.
.

A Way They Mess With Me Since I Have Been Doing City of Angel

.
Okay, this is complicated, and it could be paranoia, except I'm conscious that it could be paranoia, have analyzed it, and can only come to this conclusion.

My 21 year old daughter, on her way to work Thursday night stopped at a friend's, lost her cell phone, and around 7AM next day I tried to call her (she works overnights).

The recorded sound in her cell phone instead of the ringing noise was not her usual music, but the sound of her voice-

IT SOUNDED MUCH BUT NOT QUITE LIKE LIZZIE'S VOICE-

going "glub glub glub" gurgling, my daughter's voice, bubbling, like she was underwater. Like someone was holding a girl's head underwater, or making the sound of Lizzie's being held underwater.

That horrible sound! I left a message saying, Lizzie, that is one weird sound.

I was working that morning, and worked about a half hour more, then thought, I must have dialed the wrong number, dialed again, and this time the usual musical message played instead of the phone ringing noise, it was Lizzie's music back in place.

And this time a guy answered.

Her friend "Al" who lives a few blocks west. He said, Yeah, Lizzie lost her phone last night, and just about fifteen minutes ago my neighbor found it outside, and knocked on my door to give it to me.

They returned the phone to him, after I heard that horrible sound.

But he had looked all over outside his apartment the night before trying to find it.

I know someone was messing with me. They recorded that sound, got Lizzie's phone, kept it overnight until I called her, had me hear that horrible sound, then got the phone returned fifteen miutes later to her friend.

It was her voice, it sounded like my daughter being drowned.

I'm not imagining this. Someone was messing with me, got me real scared. I messed up the job I was doing that day.

I just have to keep telling myself, they are Catholics first, they don't believe in murder, right?

Up until now, I've always said City of Angels is not going to stop until the story is written, no matter how they threaten me. Like my friend C says, hey, even after we are dead we are going to haunt the hell out of these guys.

But don't bring my daughter into it.

That is so low, and I hope my posting this here will help keep it from accelerating.

I hope the bad guys are up to no more more than threats and intimidation, I hope they wouldn't sink to actually carrying out one of those threats ...

Weird. Creepy. I will never forget that sound.
.

Just Keep Telling the Truth, The Outcome Is Not in My Hands

.
Whoever says to the wicked, "You are in the right," will be cursed by peoples, abhorred by nations,

But those who rebuke the wicked will have delight, and a good blessing will come upon them.

Whoever gives an honest answer kisses the lips.

***
(Proverbs 24:24-26)
.
Onward
.

Images here go with story posted today at AlterNet:

Not a Smoking Gun & SNAP Did Not Move to Nevada

.
First we have to run this Correction. The information we got that SNAP moved in 2007 from Illinois to Nevada is not true. We did finally find a way to see their IRS 990 forms and here is 2007 and 2008, 2009 is not yet available.

Wonder what all the fuss is about, why SNAP did not just send these pages to City of Angels when we asked, when, as far as I know, it is illegal to refuse to release this information when someone requests it.

Whatever, add it to the piles of unanswered questions about SNAP. We found the information and posted it here, for the sake of truth and transparency.

None of it is all that revealing, not even anything to be secretive about. If you want to see the entire form with all the details, email me at cityofangelslady@yahoo.com and I'll send you the link.

SNAP should learn: If you answer people's questions, they don't become suspicious.

Anyway, here is the information a lot of people have been asking me about. It's up there, now.

SO what else is going on.
.

POST NOTE: SNAP should just publish these docs on their website. If they are calling for transparency from the church, then should run SNAP with transparency.

.

This May Sound Paranoid But

.
I am not the author of everything that shows up here. I can come here and find things posted that I did not write.

SOMEONE has found a way to enter my Blogspot editing space and post things here. They are also accessing my saved drafts that aren't published.

ALL I CAN SAY IS, everything you read here may not have been written by me.

I just discovered this three minutes ago. I'm not sure how or what to do about it, just want to write here, now, THIS IS REALLY KAY EBELING WRITING THIS, and I don't know how everything that gets on here gets on here...

stay tuned.

just trust your instincts...

shit!

*****

UPDATE: A few minutes later

I just checked for Help with Blogspot and this seems to be the answer:

"There are a few ways to "hack" your blog, or your Blogger account. Understand what the possibilities are, then try to secure yourself."
.
So

That's life in the Ethernet, folks, nothing is secure, and trust no one.
.

And don't turn the computer off for a day to do other stuff as that is the day they will hack you,

Guess even on days off I have to monitor everything.
.
SHIT
.
It's not that difficult to hack in here, I am finding out at the Blogspot Help place. Changing the password does not make a difference. Hacking is common here at blogspot, just like anywhere else, and all you can do is be careful... It's not a bank, so no one seems to even be getting alarmed about it.

It's a blog.
.
I just have to be more vigilant and go back and read things after I post them, to make sure they have not been "edited."

That's life in the twenty-first century.
.
THis is not the first time weird stuff like this has happened.

On 8, when I post a post with the word Pope in it, the paragraphs get all jumbled, I have to keep re-posting and re-posting, entire words and phrases show up that I DID NOT TYPE IN.

Then there was the mystery of why my ads got canceled, something someone did on the blog while I was at the SNAP conference in Chicago in 2008.

It's not unbelievable, it's to be expected, it's probly some Opus Dei creep with too much time on their hands.

Let it pass.

REAL WAY TO DEAL WITH hacking security problems, is to always be totally honest, never lie, then it doesn't matter what people hack in and find out.

No Secrets.
.

Still Kicking

.
At age 62, perfecting the art of chair dancing

Still Kicking

I Lived in a Car w/a Teenage Daughter in L.A. and Lived to Write About It

.
Here it is, removed from AlterNet, reprinted here:

Story and Photos by Kay Ebeling

Every morning there was a period of deep quiet, after the helicopters stopped and before morning deliveries began.  Then I’d hear runners in Hollywood Reporter and Daily Variety vans pull up near us, double park, then footsteps ran up to front porches around us.  Lizzie and I would stay hunched down low, but I imagine after several nights, the neighborhood had seen us sleeping out there in our parked car.  But no one said a word.  You become invisible when you are homeless.

It’s a mutual invisibility. They pretend not to see you and you pretend not to see them.

This particular morning I started the car and the heater, we stretched, pulled onto the street, and headed to the Welfare office, kinda grateful you don’t sleep late when you’re living on the street.  It was good we beat the traffic, good the ride was mostly downhill, from Franklin near Highland down to McArthur Park “human services” office, as the car was literally running on fumes.

Paying for motel rooms over three months, we’d gone through our move-in money, run up every credit card I had, and finally even maxed out the gas card.

In those two months we’d gone to probably every homeless program on the west side of Los Angeles, sat in waiting rooms, sat through lectures, attended mandatory classes in things like, How To Do A Job Interview.  My daughter and I still had no address but a 1995 Ford Taurus.  At night we liked to park in the Hollywood Hills, where it felt safer than down on the boulevards where the homeless people who don’t have cars walk and walk through the night.

If we ran out of gas, we’d end up on the boulevards.  The only thing keeping us from slipping totally through the cracks by February 2004 was that Ford Taurus and once it was out of gas, it was no longer an asset. 

Tip For Living In Your Car: Park pointing uphill, or you will fight gravity all night, falling onto the steering wheel trying to sleep.

That morning we had an appointment at the welfare office to apply for the L.A. County homeless program.  I found in my notes, “I feel like we are covered in dirt.  We probably are covered in dirt.”

I had taken to relying on air showers to wash up.

You stand in a breeze, hold up your arms, and the air cleans your skin as it blows through the fabric, a crocheted top is best for air showering more places, a very … efficient way to wash without water.  Afterwards you crawl into your car and go to sleep.

I also learned when using public showers a technique for washing  my clothes at the same time i wash myself, a practice i still carry out to this day.  You’d be surprised the tips a few years of homelessness will add to your normal life, if you ever make it back to normal life.

Bomb Scare in the Welfare Office

There was a long line just inside the entrance at the L.A. welfare office. My 15 year old daughter Lizzie let a man with a baby get in front of us.

Then there was a bomb scare and everyone had to evacuate the building.  It was February 2004, and the initial paranoia from Nine Eleven still permeated public buildings.  Everyone in the welfare office, caseworkers and clients, had to go across the street to a parking lot.

We got to know a mom who was there with her two toddler aged kids.  They had walked seventeen blocks from the shelter where they were staying to the welfare office.

With all of us in the parking lot from the bomb scare, the caseworkers had to continue business outside, or the line of people would just keep growing and growing.  So the caseworkers leaned over and had people sign documents on their backs so they could go on their way back onto the streets of Los Angeles, still homeless.

Story Continued Below

The lady who walked 17 blocks with two kids would have to come back because they didn’t have an appointment.  There in the parking lot the welfare workers made an appointment for them, and they left to walk the streets of L.A., meandering around until 6PM or so when they could get back into the shelter, and plan to come back for homeless assistance from the county another day.

 That day since we had an appointment, we got onto the official county of Los Angeles County program for homeless families right there in the parking lot.

Here is how it worked back then in 2004.

If you can prove you are genuinely looking for a home, the county gives you enough money for a hotel room for two weeks.

Only you can’t and they don’t and it’s not.

They give you vouchers that should last two weeks in a hotel, but they don’t, and that’s so the county can help you move into  an apartment, but only if you can find one for $454.00 a month.  Even the caseworker said, “You won’t find a place for $450 a month,” so the whole program was basically a charade.  My caseworker had a Central European accent.  I wondered if he was a direct descendent of Franz Kafka. 

You went through the motions, pretended look for housing, when really all you were getting was a hotel room for two weeks that would actually just be six or seven nights, but one does not turn down any help once one gets desperate.  So each day I would leave our motel and do the charade of looking for anything we could possibly rent for $454 a month in 2004 in L.A., a room behind a shoe repair shop with no bath, anything, but even an SRO downtown cost more than that.  

It was a charade, a program that existed on paper, but no one even expected it to work.

The first night we were in the L.A. County homeless program, the hotel I found that would take our voucher and was in a neighborhood I knew, was on Sunset Boulevard near La Brea, called the Studio Inn, if I remember right.  It was near Hollywood High School, run by two Pakistani men who I begged to let us stay at the weekly rate, explaining we were in this County program and they nodded like they’d heard it before, and gave us the better rate.  We finally got out of the car and into a room.

Few minutes later when I opened the door to go get ice, the two hotel guys were waiting outside our door, panting, like now it was time for us to do them a favor.

Since we turned them down, they said they could not let us have the room at that rate anymore.  “This is Hollywood Studio Inn on Sunset Boulevard,” they explained, “on weekends rooms rent for as high as 90 to 200 dollars a night.

“This is one big party, Sunset Boulevard on the weekends,” the hotelier said as he placed our Welfare vouchers among a stack in his cash drawer.

Most homeless teenagers aren’t still living with their parents.
So shelters aren’t equipped for a mom with a kid over age 12. That’s why it took us so long to get help,

I told the welfare worker next visit that the hotel owners were trying to get us to prostitute ourselves for the difference between a weekly and daily rate, and he broke down and gave me enough vouchers for the rest of our two weeks to actually use them and live in a hotel for two weeks.  So we spent those nights in luxury at the Hollywood Seven Star Inn, then moved back onto the street south of Franklin near Highland, waking up to the delivery of Hollywood Reporter and Daily Variety to the residents around us.

A few weeks later, around the time the car was about to die on the street, we got into a temporary shelter, a Christian run place.  They were donation run only, didn’t take government grants, so they could bend the rules and let my 15 year old daughter and me stay there together.  Every other program in L.A. insisted we’d have to separate, her go to a teen home, me to a women’s place, as that’s the way most grants are written.  We just couldn’t separate at that time in our lives.

The private Christian shelter didn’t have rigid structural guidelines like government projects, so when we found Hope Again Mission at 5161 Sunset Boulevard, my daughter and I finally got into a shelter, then 11 months later into a transitional shelter, and now we live in a neighborhood right around the corner from Hope Again, a part of town that up to November 2003, I would never even drive through.

 It’s East Hollywood, and today it’s home.

***

Post Note: In notes I found recently from this period, which sparked this series, I wrote this about our nights at the Studio Inn on Sunset Boulevard: “I’m so grateful that men asking my daughter to appear in a sex video for hard cash scare her, rather than tempts her.  I must have done something right.”

Post Note 2: I remember the day a few week earlier, when I pulled into the parking lot at PATH, People Helping the Homeless, a well-known homeless agency near downtown in our 1995 Ford Taurus.  The people waiting outside gave an audible group sigh when we pulled up in that hunk of dented metal, because to them a car means security, a movable shelter, we had more of a home than they did.  That car was our last platform keeping us from the final bottom, landing on the street, sleeping in a cardboard box, or on a bus bench.

We don’t have a car anymore.

One More Post Note: 

I was working when we become homeless.

I’m an independent contractor and have to set up my own equipment in my home to work, so while we were homeless, instead of working freelance, i had to take a staff job.

 I Was Homeless Working On The Dr. Phil Show

I was working on the Dr. Phil Show, on the Paramount Studios lot, when my daughter and I were homeless and living out of our car in Spring 2004,  and then later while we lived in the first of two homeless shelters.  Even working fulltime there in the basement of the Dr. Phil Show building on the lot, doing a job that is critical for production of the show, the pay wasn’t high enough to get us back into even a small studio apartment. 

April 2009 Sunset at Normandie, photo by Kay Ebeling
Every morning there was a period of deep quiet, after the helicopters stopped and before morning deliveries began. Then I’d hear runners in Hollywood Reporter and Daily Variety vans pull up near us, double park, then footsteps ran up to front porches around us. Lizzie and I would stay hunched down low, but I imagine after several nights, the neighborhood had seen us sleeping out there in our parked car. But no one said a word. You become invisible when you are homeless.

It’s a mutual invisibility. They pretend not to see you and you pretend not to see them.

This particular morning I started the car and the heater, we stretched, pulled onto the street, and headed to the Welfare office, kinda grateful you don’t sleep late when you’re living on the street. It was good we beat the traffic, good the ride was mostly downhill, from Franklin near Highland down to McArthur Park “human services” office, as the car was literally running on fumes.

Paying for motel rooms over three months, we’d gone through our move-in money, run up every credit card I had, and finally even maxed out the gas card.
In those two months we’d...
***
Oroginally Appeared April 2010 on Page One of AlterNet in SoapBox now removed.
From Kay Ebeling, Producer, The City of Angels Is Everywhere

POST NOTES after photo BELOW: 

Being middle class, I approached becoming homeless like a problem to be solved, a project, like finding a job.  If I just work every waking moment, I thought, I’ll find a new place to live.  But we became homeless November 2003 and it was November 2005 before we moved into our own place again.  Recently I came across the notes from those first weeks after we lost our apartment in a chi-chi part of West Hollywood. 

With my fifteen year old daughter, we were paying weekly rent at motels off Hollywood and Sunset Boulevards, as we raced against time, trying to find a new apartment before the move-in money we had ran out. 

Finding these notes was revealing.  I knew I’d made a lot of phone calls those days and these notes show it.  I was up at the crack of dawn and on the phone every day, and knocking on doors. 

Since 2005 I’ve been trying to find a way to write about the chaos of those years my teenage daughter and I were homeless in L.A., and the notes I found recently show just how erratic and frenzied those days really were, I’ve even scanned the notes in and uploaded them here at City of Angels 2   and you can see the growing madness in the handwriting.  Most revealing is what my daughter and I discovered within days of losing our home and moving into motels, that:

There are hundreds and hundreds of agencies, nonprofits, government and private run groups, but so much of what they do is refer clients from one agency to another.  The real help going on is minimal, while the hundreds of nonprofits continue to thrive, many of them to this day.  In one of the notes I call these endless phone calls “the phone referral go round” where always eventually you are told to call the first agency you called, then you start calling again.

Remember these notes are from November 2003 to early Jan 2004:

************

L.A. Housing Authority             1800 731 4663      

Menu item Shelter Plus Care under homeless. Left voicemail messages

About going on STS or about Section 8 and explaining we need Homeless Plus

Called five times as couldn’t hold the 30-plus minutes each time on this phone.

Finally Left 3 messages

Housing Authority for County – Santa Fe Springs

Have 2 Shelter Plus Care of homeless programs.  Get there by 1:15 (followed by a map from Hollywood to Santa Fe Springs)

FRIDAY

9 AM Call all the dailies (the nonprofits I was calling every day.

Early, before 8:30, go to PATH in person Ask for (NAME REDACTED)

Check out hotel with weekly rates on Ventura near Lankershim.

Make unmade phone calls

(FINISH EARLY, IT’S FRIDAY)

Call Info Line             1 800 731 4663       menu item 2, One for message, calling for Housing Plus Care Program, mother and child, both need both. 

[earlier accidentally left message about Section 8, which is another issue

Leave two phone numbers this time.

Call Tuesday

House of Yahweh- they do interviews, first call on Tuesday at 10 AM

Tues 12-16-03

No space available, call again later in the month.  (they have small trailers, the reason they were encouraging earlier is they thought I was a lady with three kids.)

TRACK DOWN THIS GUY, (Business card of police officer I found and made this note, “these two police officers were helpful.”

- Go in person to Wilcox Station to try to contact?

12.03.03 Contacted Officer (NAME REDACTED) he said for me to “Call with good results” when we get them. 

December 1, 2003:

House of Yahweh, Martha said there are two sites, one in Lawndale, one in L.A.  One is a shelter and one is the administrative offices where they do intakes.  She said call back on Saturday, and hold lots of minutes.  “Hold lots of minutes, it takes lots of time.”

Calls next couple days:

M-F 9 to 5.  Nope.  Nope.  (Rude)

No, have to call office Monday through Friday not here on Saturday.

MONDAY

Check out motel at Vineland & Ventura, weekly rates

(SINCE I am one of the thousands of adult victims of pedophile priests, I also tried different Catholic agencies. )

Catholic Worker

Voice of the Faithful

SNAP

Priests Of Integrity

(DIFFERENT REDACTED NAMES)

Catholic Charities

LA City Housing Department Section 8

Office of Rent Stabilization (address on w. 15th street, go in person)

Valley shelter, 6640 Van Nuys Blvd

City of L.A. office of tenants rights,

THOUGHT I’D MADE A REAL FIND HERE:

Women’s Care Cottage:  6040 Shelter, can stay ninety days.  Case Managers work with you.  Okay to transfer from one shelter after 90 days there to another shelter 90 days there, and then back for 90 days.  “Lots of women do that,” she said on the phone.  Also in their office is a free laundry machine, counseling. 

Waiting List is two to three months long, but can come in for a meal and a shower during office hours.

Hope Again             323 661-4004       Go in person on Sunset near Normandie (This is the agency that eventually did help us.)

Agape Mission (left message 12.8.03)

Burbank Family Services, no homeless services.  Used to have it.  Do have services for counseling.  Fee is $26.00. 

4PM tried again to reach Shelter Plus Care.  On hold at 4:20, finally left a second voice message.

Catholic Church of the Good Shepherd on Sunset gives out bag-lunches three days a week.

SNAP phone call (To regional officer for SNAP Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests, one of many organizations I contacted during this period time we were on the streets.)

Sunday 11.2?:03 Notes from conversation with SNAP:

Churches?  She’ll send email out so people will know we are still in trouble.  Suggests I get on AFDC so can get on their homeless program and apply for Section 8.  Also try Voice of the Faithful as they have set up a special project for victims.

Chicago Linkup? She doesn’t know anything.

There is a Catholic Worker Shelter in Santa Ana the SNAP rep can help us get into but my daughter and I have an agreement that we will never go to Orange County again, (a whole nother story).

Women’s Care Cottage, PATH, and Beyond Shelter are now phone numbers on piece of paper I carry around so I could call at least once a day and check in showing we still need help.

ANOTHER WEEK OF NOTES:

“Still To Do” These places were listed with phone numbers:

L.A. Homeless Services Authority

Valley Shelter

Women’s Care Cottage – You can come in and do laundry twice a week, no later than two hours before closing.  There is a 2 month waiting list for the shelter.  Showers available 2:30 to 5:00 PM. 5:30 on Tues and Friday.  Hot meals every day at lunch time.  You’re welcome to come in and do laundry and eat.

Jewish Family Services (12.01.03 conversation) Made appointment and met with (NAME REDACTED)

Two possible shelters.  They are the ones who told me about Women’s Care Cottage.  And Valley Shelter (they take you on a bus to a church, you sleep in the pews, leave first thing next morning). If you can’t find shelter and still need mental health help, go to (she gave me a list of County Mental Health Clinics). 

FOLLOWING WEEK:

Wednesday Musts:

Go in person:  Post Office, p/u mail and fill out another yellow form per Victor from our old mail route, it’s okay.  Go to (NAME OF COMPANY REDACTED), check and see about work (?) (NAME) never returned last few phone calls)

9AM Info Line Emergency check in number (REDACTED)

Call Catholic Charities again re move-in money assistance? (They say wait for HM to call back)

Per (NAME REDACTED) at Info Line (from phone call yesterday) “Call Hope Again Again, but they will only take you though, not your daughter.” (Also have to bring proof of income)

Call STS:  Check on status of $240.00 check I’m due for the Disney job. 

You’re in the “Social Service Phone Referral Go-Round” where each agency refers you to another until eventually, someone will refer you back to the first agency you called.  Then you start all over again.”

By Kay Ebeling, To Be Continued

 (NOTE: In May of 2004 Hope Again bent their rules and let my daughter and me move in together, even though she was fifteen, three years younger than their minimum age.  They could bend the rules because they do not take government money, so are not tied in to grant requirements.)

Kay Ebeling writes about the pedophile priest epidemic in the Catholic Church here and at City of Angels 

The original notes from this story are scanned in here:

Kay Ebeling pioneered internet journalism by creating City of Angels Blog, where she reports on the Pedophile Priest epidemic in the Catholic Church as one of the victims. Today CofA Blog continues its muckraking tradition on several topics, producing stories that are overlooked by mainstream media. Ebeling's day job is all done online, so she is currently traveling the country while producing City of Angels Blog, which started at http://cityofangels3.blogspot.com in 2007.

.

Endurance

.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning... (Psalm 30:5 also the first words of Fly Like A Bird by Mariah Carey:)



Them Christians always trying to sneak joy in on us.

11 You have turned my mourning into dancing for me.
.

Marijuana Fumes Come In My Window

.
I swear, I opened the window just now and the smell of marijuana is everywhere, outside, in the L.A. atmosphere.

It's a foggy morning, the air is still. There are MedMJ dispensaries within blocks of where I live, several of them, actually. I live right in the middle between Sunset Boulevard and Hollywood Boulevard and there are shops within blocks on both streets. The law says, walk at least a block from the dispensary before you light up, no smoking right outside the door.

So the patients probly park their cars on my street, buy their medicine, then walk back here to my block, and light up.

Maybe that explains it.

On a foggy morning like today, a sick little old lady in L.A. only has to stick her nose out the window to get pain relief and suddenly feel 25 years old again.

Nice change after all those years of smog...
.

Inspired Choreography

.
To get in shape for the mission, dance along:

Liz Ebeling Rave Costume March 2010

This Image has Popped into my Head 8 Times this Week, So Going to Record It

.
1961 or 63(?), playing on a Sunday afternoon with friends, I see her coming down the street. We had a white Thunderbird and my mom never drove fast even on freeways. Going down our side street she creeped, creeped. She got to the driveway where we were playing ball and the T-bird stopped. Gray funk filled my good mood. She was making me go to Church, making me stop having all this fun on a Sunday afternoon because I wouldn't get up and go with the family that morning.

I sulked all the way to the Church (It was San Gabriel, not San Marino, as written here before). My mom pulled away as I walked in the door where the Mass had already started. As soon as she turned the corner, I was back out the door and around the back of the church, where there was an elementary school and a girls rest room.

Panting. Angry. I had just entered puberty, so all the arousal I'd shoved down with food and strange behavior was now bypassing all the stuffing and coming out into the fore. And I was reacting different from the other girls, with much more enthusiasm, let's say. And I knew it had something to do with this Church that my atheist mother insisted I go to because of my devout German-Irish father.

No way I could hold in all that anger and other exploding emotion.

I tore the bathroom apart. Grunting probably like a ravaged animal. I had a lipstick in my bag with which I wrote: "Hypocrites, Catholics are all Hypocrites" on the Catholic elementary school girls' bathroom walls. I pulled toilet paper out of the rolls and spread it on the floors. I tried to pull the cloth towel roll-dispenser off the wall and couldn't, so just pulled the cloth towel out farther and farther. It was chaotic. I was groaning and throwing things and-

The light in the room changed and I stopped. A nun, in full habit, stood in the girls room door, silhouetted with the sun setting behind her. The sight of her made me stop, and relax. I stopped.

And after that I never had to go to Catholic Church again. No one ever really mentioned the incident, just a few days later, my dad set me down where he was reading the L.A. Times morning paper, I inhaled his Kent cigarette smoke, as he said, "It's up to you. You are thirteen years old and I think you can make your own choice. So you can go to Church or not go to Church, it's your decision."

Well, you know I never went back there, until decades later, as an adult, I tried a couple times to return to the Church with different levels of humorous to disastrous results.

For decades I wondered why my dad let me quit going to Church and today I just feel blessed that he did. He knew something was wrong.

So I never got fully indoctrinated or mind-bent or sucked in, whatever it is, which is both good and bad. It means I'm totally on my own trying to live a spiritual life, and it means I'm totally on my own to try to live a spiritual life.
.
.

Daniel Maguire, Theology Professor at Marquette, Calls for Pope Resignation

.
Former priest, now Theology professor Daniel Maguire was just on MSNBC saying this:

Marquette Professor Calls For Pope's Resignation‎
Today's TMJ4 - Tom Murray, Wed. March 31
“Marquette University disagrees with Professor Daniel Maguire's recent call for the ..

He was also just on MSNBC...

Read it at City of Angels 8

Celebrate (He Lives) song saved my head when I was homeless

.
I pulled up to a parking spot, the radio played this song, and I got it. I got it. And since then it's been coming in even more clearly:



It's not about the exact words or even the facts about Christ. It's about the Spirit and it's best expressed on Earth today in black gospel music.