Olivia Julianna is a leftist influencer paid by a Dark Money group who are attempting to create an illusion of support. In case you don't know who she is, she is a very obese, bubbly, young woman who spoke at the Democratic National Convention.

In a poor choice of words, she said, "If you're not at the table, you're on the menu."  Followed by, "I spend a lot of time with young men. I love young men. I love frat guys."  Her attempt to sway young men failed miserably. There is no grassroots support of her or the Democratic platform. 
I did an informal survey of frat guys and independents to see if they were drawn to her and her message. The response was just the opposite. 

Worse, the statements left her open to a myriad of jokes and jabs, with personal attacks regarding her appearance, such as:

"She ate everything on the menu."

 "She'd better not be at the table with an apple in her mouth."

 "She's been at the leftist trough too long."

I feel badly for her.  She doesn't appear to know herself and her actual self-esteem seems low in spite of the public mask she wears, as her micro-expressions reveal she is looking for validation.  

It doesn't help that she took money in trade for her integrity. In a vain attempt to promote herself, she gave interviews that left her wide open to ridicule, even by the interview host... and she seemed fully unaware of what the viewers were seeing.  I don't care how thick her skin is, but I hope she has someone who genuinely cares for her and can give her solace, because outside of the remaining group of leftists with cognitive dissonance, the public response is negative to her efforts.

Planning to Come or Vacation in San Diego (Mexican Sewage)

San Diego Beaches: Paradise with a Poopy Plot Twist!

Ah, San Diego – the land of eternal sunshine, surfer vibes, and... surprise sewage swims? If you're plotting a getaway to soak up those golden rays, hit the waves, or picnic in the parks, buckle up for a reality check. The past few years have turned this coastal gem into a bit of a stinky adventure. Pro tip: Pack sunscreen, flip-flops, and maybe a hazmat suit? Just kidding – but seriously, double-check that medical insurance. Let's dive into the murky waters of what's going on, with a splash of humor to keep things from getting too foul.

The Crappy Contamination Conundrum

Picture this: You're frolicking on a San Diego beach, only to realize the "refreshing ocean spray" might be more "Eau de Tijuana Toilette." The latest scoop from the San Diego Union-Tribune (as of mid-2025) reveals fecal 💩contamination stretching all the way up to Carlsbad – that's a whopping 35 miles north of San Diego proper. Blame it on a decades-old drama where millions of gallons of Mexican sewage, sneaky hazardous industrial chemicals🧪, and random trash 🩹🩲💉,  (think bandages, diapers, and who-knows-what-else) dump daily into the Tijuana River. It all flows north like an unwelcome party crasher, crashing into the Tijuana Estuary and Pacific Ocean. Result? Beach closures, health hazards, and a vibe that's less "chill waves" and more "chill... but with chills from bacteria."

A Brief History of the Sewage Saga (Or: How We Got into This Mess)

This isn't some new Netflix thriller – it's a real-life epic dating back to the 1930s. Back then, the Tijuana River was basically Tijuana's DIY wastewater highway: A few folks skipping septic tanks, companies chucking chemical cocktails, and voila – instant pollution potion. Fast-forward to October 1966, when heavy rains caused a sewer line to burst like a piñata at a bad party, dumping raw sewage northward into San Diego's backyard.

Tijuana's population exploded thanks to industrialization and a migration boom (fueled by folks from Central and South America eyeing the border), outpacing its creaky infrastructure like a hamster wheel trying to keep up with a cheetah. By the 1980s and '90s, overflows were as predictable as bad traffic on the I-5, worsened by storms and what some call "binational whoopsies" under the 1944 U.S.-Mexico Water Treaty. Blame game? A mix of rapid urbanization, weather woes, and maybe a dash of historical U.S. influence in the region – but hey, no one's pointing fingers... too hard.

In a heroic plot twist, the U.S. flipped the switch on the South Bay International Wastewater Treatment Plant (SBIWTP) in San Ysidro in January 1999. Designed for 25 million gallons a day from Tijuana, it was like giving a kiddie pool to handle Niagara Falls. Overwhelmed by breakdowns in Mexico's setup (shoutout to the Punta Bandera plant and its coastal collectors), plus mega-storms in the 2010s, it's been spilling over 100 billion gallons since 2018. And let's not forget the population surges in the 2020s, turning Tijuana into a bustling border hotspot.

Funding Fiascos: The Money Pit (Literally)

Enter politics, stage left. In 2019, during his first term, President Trump pulled off a bipartisan magic trick, securing $300 million via the USMCA to "fix this mess once and for all." It was part of a $400 million push to expand the SBIWTP and slash those cross-border flows by 90%. High-fives all around from environmentalists and unlikely allies!

But under Biden from 2020-2024, Mother Nature and migration waves cranked things up to 11, with record 44 billion gallons in 2023 alone. Beaches closed, economies tanked, and health issues piled up like... well, you know. In mid-2024, a quick-fix "bandaid" was slapped on, but it peeled off faster than cheap sunscreen. By February 2025, even tough Navy SEALs at Coronado had to bail on training after 1,168 cases of "eww-induced illnesses" from the tainted tides.

Fast-forward to Trump's second term: In July 2025, a fresh U.S.-Mexico agreement was inked, pledging urgent fixes like rehabbing Mexico's plants and diverting 10 million gallons a day of "treated" water (though critics quip it's more "lightly filtered" than spa-quality). And just days ago (as of late August 2025), the EPA announced a "major milestone" toward a 100% solution, with the Trump admin wrapping up key projects in record time. Progress? Finally! But hold the confetti – beach warnings and toxic air hazes are still a thing.

Oh, and funding drama: Congress tossed in $650 million in 2024 (thanks, Biden), but House Republicans halved the IBWC's annual plant budget from $156 million to $78 million in March 2025. Prior funds are safe, but it's like cutting the pizza budget mid-party – everyone's still hungry for a real fix.

Solutions: Brilliant Ideas... Stuck in Committee Hell

Engineers have brainstormed some gems to unclog this crisis. From a 2025 opinion piece on the "Cali-Baja" woes, here are three standouts, served with a side of sarcasm:

1. **Legal Reform**: Update Baja California's laws to make developers build wastewater systems before slapping up new condos. It's like telling builders, "No plumbing? No permit!" – shocking, right? This tackles unregulated growth that's overloading the pipes.

2. **Technical Innovation**: Roll out constructed wetlands on both sides – fancy fake swamps that naturally filter the gunk, letting us reuse water for farms or safe ocean dumps. Eco-friendly and cheaper than therapy for frustrated beachgoers.

3. **Economic Investment**: Pump annual bucks from both countries via the 1944 Treaty, plus help from banks like NADBank. Think treatment plants, pipes, and public health perks – because who doesn't love a binational budget bash?

Other ideas? Expand the SBIWTP, fix Mexico's gravity lines, and that diversion plan. But California's latest endorsement? Governor Newsom's idea to shunt the untreated sludge 3 miles offshore. It's like your kid hiding trash in the backyard corner instead of the bin – "Out of sight, out of mind!" Except, as environmentalists (apparently channeling ocean magic) hope, it won't drift back to haunt 35+ miles of coastline. Spoiler: Currents don't care about borders.

What Happened to All That Cash and Brainpower?

The $300 million from 2020 mostly went to SBIWTP tweaks, but bureaucracy moved slower than a sloth on vacation. Meetings multiplied like rabbits, solutions stalled, and Mexican breakdowns kept the party pooping. The 2024 extra funds are chipping away at repairs, but storms in early 2025 caused fresh spills. Mexico's pledging to sieve out big trash and divert flows, but it's sparking algae blooms and ongoing beach blues – not the fun kind.

Advocates push for EPA oversight and creative funding (toll taxes, anyone?), while restoration dreams in the Tijuana River Valley have downsized due to persistent pollution. The 2025 deal promises a "permanent fix," but as of now, full cleanup could take years. And unless Tijuana's growth gets a reality check (maybe redistribute that boom?), the ocean's in for more murky days. 
Perhaps the only true solution is building a massive sewage plant inland in Mexico outside of Tijuana and diverting all sewage there, away from water ways and the ocean.

The Gloomy (But Giggle-Worthy) Future

Look, the oceans are tough, but between Mexican sewage shenanigans, ship spills, and global gunk, they're starting to look like a bad science experiment. What happens when the seas turn into giant cesspools? Fish with therapy bills? Beaches renamed "Hazard Havens"? For now, San Diego's fighting back with progress reports and agreements – but if you're visiting, stick to pools or high-ground hikes. And hey, if all else fails, embrace the chaos: Who needs clear water when you've got a story that'll make your friends gag with laughter? Stay safe, stay informed, and maybe pack some nose plugs. 🌊💩😂

Loss of Maternity Care in California.. the growing crisis

 Aug 8, 2025

A few months ago, the labor and delivery at USC Verdugo Hills Hospital in Glendale closed it doors after decades of care and service. All potential patients had to travel to other hospitals.

According to Dr. John McHugh, San Diego Union-Tribune - Opinion, almost 60 California hospitals and delivery units closed since 2012.  About 1/3 were in L.A. county. One-third of remaining hospitals do not offer labor or delivery services.  The reasons for the closures at 3-times the rest of the country were inflation and insufficient reimbursement.

What surprised me was the lack of "reproductive health care funding, training and technical assistance for hospital emergency departments."  Dr. McHugh stated that the state legislators were "working to address these problems," with AB 2490, but Governor Newsom vetoed the bill.

What Dr. McHugh declined to mention, probably out of compassion, morals, career ethics, and treads a delicate political line, are the ugly political facts.

More than half the babies born, who access hospital services rendered for care, labor, and delivery, are to illegal immigrants who pay by using Medi-Cal, if they have that. Most illegal immigrants receive Medi-Cal immediately as part of the many benefits California taxpayers provide.  Many of these women had little to no prenatal health care. Their babies if born prematurely or with birth defects become long term patients in the hospitals. While it is basic morals and compassion to care for them, since they are here, there is no denying the massive numbers (up to 250,000 nationwide according to the Center for Immigration Studies) stress the Medi-Cal and hospital budgets. 

This care-load stress results in delays in appointments and denials of other healthcare needs. (I do not have the data on direct assertions from pregnant or post-natal legal citizens to provide numbers, however I was surprised to learn this was an issue.)  This care demand doesn't just affect labor and delivery care, it is spread across all specialities and general care. U.S. Health Resources and Services Administration estimates a current shortage of about 19,000 physicians. Considering that fewer than 1700 doctors graduate medical schools each year... do you see the problem?

SUV Shift Linkage Breaks at Airport... Larry's Long Trip

 Aug 7, 2025

Larry got up at 2a.m. to come to San Diego this past Thursday. His Alaska Airlines flight was supposed to leave Seattle at 6a.m. That was cancelled. He rebooked for a flight leaving 2pm. arriving at the airport at noon. After repeated delays, he, his little dog, and the plane ✈ finally went airborne after 3pm. Cujo hadn't had anything to eat all day.

I was waiting just outside baggage claim at 6pm. I asked a very nice traffic control lady how to go around the circle, so I could open spots for those picking up others. I followed her instructions and anxiously made my way around the loop back to baggage claim. Once again I waited. I noticed my gas was low, which it shouldn't have been, since Larry and I filled the tank prior to him leaving.

A quick mental memory and calculation for trips taken and gas used didn't add up. I only took Larry to the airport and went to meet my son twice, which was a few miles each way. With my 22 gallon tank, I should have had 19 gallons left. I remembered seeing the gas flap open. I snapped it shut as a fleeting thought of gas theft crossed my mind, but dismisssed the concern.

I shifted into "Park" and turned my SUV off to save fuel. The traffic control lady asked me to move forward. I turned on my SUV, but it refused to go into gear. I tried repeatedly, but it just slid back and forth without catching. 😲 It remained stuck in "Park." I quickly called to her to alert her to the problem and that I would probably need a tow truck.
Moments later Larry and Cujo arrived at my SUV, ready to go home. I broke the news that we needed a tow truck. Luckily I brought a protein drink for Larry and some beef jerky. Another lucky stoke was the tow truck came quickly, possibly because we were taking up space in front of the airport's busy loading area and couldn't move. More luck was a traffic control agent, a young man, knew what was wrong, as he was a gear-head on the side. It was minor, but it disabled the vehicle and caused a bit of a issue for the tow truck driver. They had to figure out how to get it out of "Park" to load it onto the flatbed truck. Again, the young gear-head solved the issue.
At 7:30pm we were on our way. Larry and I in the cab with the tow driver, but our dogs rode in the SUV. I can only imagine what the dogs were thinking, left alone in a car that was not only moving, but elevated! The tow truck driver, very amicable, was from Palestine. His wife and beautiful 4-year-old daughter were U.S. citizens currently living in Palestine. I was confused by that, as I wasn't certain where Palastine was. I knew Gaza and West Bank, but where was Palestine? He said she lived near Jeruselum. She was expecting her second daughter to be born in January.

Arriving home, we had to move the van and the neighbor's trash cans to put the SUV on the street.

Placing the vehicle in the parking spot was tricky, as it was stuck in reverse from the airport. We moved our van and the neighbor's trash cans to make enough space, replacing everything after the SUV was unloaded. Finally, after 8pm the doggies were freed from the SUV. ​

The cupboards were bare, as was the refrigerator that the day prior I had to dismantle, repair, clean, and reassemble, but we were home. Larry was exhausted.

Illegal Immigrants, Their Children, and Consequences

A short video by BostonGlobe described, "Ice arrests and the devastating effect on children left behind". They described the financial stress and mental toll on children of illegal immigrants when one or both parents are taken away. The children have the fear of wondering if their parents will ever come home or if they will see them again.  This story is heart-wrenching to anyone with compassion, as they watch children of detained illegal immigrants cry.

The BostonGlobe failed to recognize that this feeling of distress is what military families go through repeatedly.  The military member must go when deployed or restationed.  They have no choice, as they chose to serve their country due to their loyalty to the United States. As a consequence, the children and spouse are left behind, unless they are sent somewhere the family can accompany them, even though uprooted.

The BostonGlobe failed to mention that unlike military families, the illegal immigrant parents could avoid this trauma for their children by leaving the country voluntarily, signing up for re-entry if qualified, and suffer no separation from their families. 

The BostonGlobe failed to mention that the children and families can be deported with them, unless the person if the crime is being here illegally.  It is the parent's choice to abandon their children in the United States, just as it was their choice to bring or give birth to them here.

The BostonGlobe failed to acknowledge that the vast majority of immigrants who crossed the border illegally answer to the cartels, since they must identify themselves and their friends and families to the cartel and then pay the cartel to cross, whether or not they are escorted.  These people can be forced to pay or commit crimes under threat of harm or death to their families in their countries or origin.  Quite a number of illegals are enslaved or forced to work as indentured workers, or worse, as sex slaves... including children. 

In my own daily activities, I inadvertently come across people who surreptitiously give me indications that they are indentured or enslaved in veiled clues as we talk. Sadly, in the past, I missed what would be obvious to anyone aware of the slavery issue (I wasn't at that time). 

Where have I encountered those indentured or slaves?   Gas stations with mini-marts, nail salons, and construction sites. Most gas station mini-mart workers speak a decent amount of English. Nail salon technicians either are not required to be licensed or the owners simply ignore the law. Many indentured/enslaved "illegal" men work for construction sites.

How are illegals identified? 

  1. If you notice that different workers at the same or similar place all give a similar story of their backgrounds or lives, that's a clue.

  2. If the person doing doesn't seem to want to talk to you or can't speak English, that's a tiny indicator.  

  3. Or, when holidays come and you ask if they will be spending it with their families, they lament they won't, haven't for a while, and won't be able to see them for a long time.

  4.  If they glance around furitively as they speak to you, that's another indicator they may be indentured or outright enslaved. 

  5. If they are brought to a work site stuffed into the covered bed of a pickup or packed into the back of a truck with no or blacked-out windows, that's a clue.

  6. For ICE, tips are usually given as to the location of a wanted criminal illegal immigrant. In the process of apprehension, other illegal immigrants are frequently encountered, detained, identified, and deported.

The BostonGlobe failed to mention the solution... stop illegal immigration. Illegal immigration is an expensive, dangerous, and arduous undertaking.  If you love immigrants, encourage those here illegally to leave and come back legally, because laws will continue to be enforced for the protection and benefit of our country. Those who come illegally will be identified and deported immediately, without time to get their affairs in order.

Over decades, the most driven, hard working, good people have been siphoned off to the United States. Unfortunately with them come hardened criminals, cartel members and obligants, mentally ill, drug addicts, and physically disabled, whose goal is to take advantage of our system.  Our president has offered to help some of those countries fight the issues that are making their most productive citizens flee. These immigrants who are determined to work and build a life need to work to make changes in their own countries.

Little Birdies Crime Scene.

 In writing, the rule is if a story has disastrous or bad outcome, disclose that early. This the narrative of coming upon a murder scene.

For several years, a mud swallows nest existed beneath the roof overhang eves, tucked where two exterior walls met to form a right angle. Within that well-covered corner the nest was protected from the weather elements. It had be vacant for the last several years, but I held hope that the swallows would return.

 One day in early May, 2025, while cleaning on the side of the house, the peeping of little birds caught my attention. Their tiny heads barely showed over the edge of the nest, bobbing up and down intermittently. After a minute, the mother bird appeared. I watched the mother bird, not a swallow, make flight after flight over the fence to the neighbor's yard swooping in mid-air aerobatics to capture insects, which she dutifully brought back, clutched in her beak. She'd quickly deposit her catch into one of the open mouths, then immediately fly off and within minutes, bring back another. For the next few days I enjoyed the knowledge that birds were back and the live nature show.

But the intriguing nuturing show didn’t last. On the third day of viewing a few trips by the mother bird, another bird showed up, diving into her pathway. It was slightly bigger than her and aggressive, but not a hawk. I didn't get a good enough look to determine if it was the same species or not. Clearly, they had "words" with an unfriendly appearing mid-flight exchange.  A phone call forced me away from the unfolding natural world drama.

On May 5, 2025, a mere two days after enjoying the newly occupied nest, I came upon a crime scene a few feet from the base of the long ramp leading to the back sliding door. A small chaotic pile of tiny pin feathers littered the patterned concrete patio floor. Scanning the delicate and unmistakable feathers, they were clearly the remnants of a baby bird. I rushed to the side of the house and desperately searched for any signs of life in the high-mounted nest. The nest was a silent shell, its occupants gone. I made bird calls, to no avail. No sound, no movement.  The scattered feathers are all that remained of the little birdies.

 

Then on 5/7/2025, I found another grim clue... a pile of tiny feathers by the washer and dryer stored along the house's exterior beneath the nest.😥 I stood there, trying to piece together what had happened. Had they tried to fly? The chicks were too young to fly; their feathers and wings weren't sufficiently developed. Had they fallen out? Not likely. They barely showed their little heads above the nest's edge when their necks were stretched out, mouths open, begging for food from their mother. Most likely they were brutally snatch from the small mud fortress without mercy, but by what?

I recall that at around 2 or 3 a.m., three nights after I had originally discovered them, I heard a commotion of birds. I’d dismissed it as a fleeting disturbance, but that must have been when an attack ensued. But by what? The predator could’ve been another bird, a rat, a possum, or feral cat, all common in our area.  Rats, possums, and some cats can climb a stucco walled house.

This wasn’t just a loss; it was a violation of the small sanctuary I’d watched with such hope. Nor have I seen the mother bird return to the nest. For a moment, I wondered if I could’ve done something—scared off the intruder, checked the nest sooner. But nature doesn’t wait for our interventions. Eventually whatever the determined predator would have prevailed. Nature moves on, leaving us to grapple with the aftermath of its brutality. I’m left staring at that corner of the house, hoping the swallows might one day reclaim it, but knowing the story of those little birds will linger, a reminder of the beauty, brutality, and reality of nature.

On two separate, heart-wrenching occasions, a baby possum was found drowned in my pool. Nature can be so cruel. I've witnessed it repeatedly across species. I often wonder what the mothers think, after they've lost their baby. Do they search for their lost young and for how long? They usually have a brood to look after, so can't risk the other lives for the one. I remember as a child seeing a mother farm cat return from a training foraging hunt with her kittens only to realize one was missing. Usually over time, several from the litter would disappear before they reached adulthood. 

How long do the animal mothers mourn? Do they dream of their lost young, as I do of moments gone? The more evolved species, such as chimpanzees and great apes, appear to mourn deeper and longer, carrying and cradling the limp body of their young in their grief. Their brains are wired for empathy and sorrow.

In San Diego’s canyon hills, nature is being pushed to the brink as untethered development and the ignoring of homeless people who camp in the nature corridors displaces the native wildlife. What binds us to the animal world? There’s a flicker of something universal, bonds of love that even greed and cruelty cannot extinguish, a resilience that humbles me. Is it the reflection of our lives... love and nuturing versus the brutality and cruelty? When resources are aplenty, aggression and cruelty decrease. Do we pay attention to a fleeting pang or a prolonged wail, each a cry against indifference and the assault on our natural world?

The story of the baby birds are a indicator, like the frogs in a stream or a canary in a mine, that something is going wrong with our environment and ecology.

Schadenfreude... the Pleasure of Misfortune

Schadenfreude... the Pleasure of Misfortune

/ˈSHädənˌfroidə/

I discovered the word schadenfreude, a noun meaning pleasure derived by someone from another person's misfortune.  I smiled at finding a word that exactly described my mother's general and parental attitude which had been difficult to explain to people.  An example of schadenfreude is your response if you see someone cruelly kick a dog and they badly stub their toes.  Most people will be angry that the person kicked the dog, but might smile at the inflictor's pain. That kind of smile and attitude, of "good, they deserved that... instant karma," is an example of mild schadenfreude. 
Some people might ask the kicker if they are alright, but the concern is usually not completely genuine.  Anyone who observes your smile understands your true feelings, because the smile is not a smile of heartfelt regard.  Children, of parents with the trait of schadenfreude, also understand the parent's smiles and true feelings.    

 

Although normal people may exhibit schadenfreude depending on the circumstance, my mother, quite possibly a psychopath, or simply mentally unstable or ill, exhibited it consistently. 

 

One major difference between "normal" people and my mother is that although normal people may have witnessed something that brought about rightful misfortune to others and a sense of schadenfreude, my mother would sometimes deliberately do something to cause misfortune to others and revel in the adversity. For instance, the neighbor's little dog squeezed through the fence into our backyard.  Over years, she had refused to let me have a dog, but kept the little dog, lying to the neighbors that she hadn't seen the dog, all the while knowing how much they loved their dog. She smugly gloated and smiled with schadenfreude when they asked her if she had seen their dog. Eventually she was caught with the dog, but blatantly stuck to lies and did not apologize. Other than the neighbors knowing what a piece of work she was, she faced no repercussions. She knew she had gotten away with the vile act and never changed her heart.

 

 

Children take their cues on how to react situations by how other people react.  Small children toddle and inevitably fall while learning to stand and walk.  Good parents often naturally smile or laugh, help them or let them regain their feet, and let them try again.  The child learns it is okay to fall, because they can simply try again.  If the child is hurt, a loving parent might still smile with empathy, but gently wipes the tears, comforts until the pain is past or mostly past, and then sends the child on their way.  The child learns comfort exists in the parents, that pain will pass, and they can try again.  In the few photos of me as a baby and child, it was apparent that my father was the loving parent.  I recall him smiling as he taught us the things little kids need to master. Our mother was the opposite.

.  

My mother embraced schadenfreude.  She would smile and laugh when I would fall, but there was no comfort or genuine encouragement, unless someone was watching.  The comfort was for show.  I knew, but hoped the comfort was real.  She took pleasure in seeing me or my siblings physically or emotionally hurt.  Her smirking expression, riddled with schadenfreude, hid the self-serving gratification of a resentful parent.  She secretly, or not so secretly, never wanted children, especially me, as she would say as she talked to herself.  Ultimately I ended with permanent physical injuries that continue to plague me after decades.

I write this so you can recognize schadenfreude, which can progress to bullying. When someone has a misfortune, such as they do an embarrassing splat fall, drop things, get food on themselves, it is okay to laugh, but only if immediately followed by helping them with genuine help, care, and words of comfort.  Incident responses need to be practiced, so kids can retain a sense of humor and compassion.