So...

I need to write.  I want to write... but somehow I just can't .

This whole tsunami thing has just been too much on my mind.  When I first heard of the earthquake and the total casualties, I compared the 20-odd thousand number of deaths to those lost on 9/11 and already it seemed overwhelming.  Now they are saying it could end up in the 100,000's... 

Here is something for those of you interested in the "unexplained":  I had this dream (about 2-3 times) that I was somewhere near a beach but inside a building, and all of a sudden waves started to get bigger and bigger engulfing everything in sight.  I remember being terrified, but somehow I knew I wouldn't be hurt.  Almost like I was there, but just as a spectator. 

It got so that I had to research more about tsunamis, to see exactly how devastating they could be.  So I went online and didn't really find anything.  At that point I assumed that they must not be very dangerous, as there wasn't much written about them.  Nothing in the past and no information on the possibility of one reaching a populated area.

I wonder if this is the end of that dream.  I have a feeling it probably is...

Regardless, there was a man at the post office yesterday from Sri Lanka.  I told him about my dream and he gave me his card (in all seriousness) so I could call him if I ever have another catastrophic dream again.  He said he hadn't lost anyone in that tragedy, but he did reiterate that he was very serious about me calling if I did have another dream.

Anyway, this is today and I still have his card and I'm debating whether I should keep it or not.  I'm also debating whether I should have another piece of bread with Nutella. 

Goodnight.

PS:  I guess I could write in the end!

Hello world -- again

Ok, so I must as well fess up.  I've not written because in a very sudden way, my world turned upside down and stayed that way, blocking the sun and any and all light from coming into view.

In case it's not obvious, I am not a person to keep a lot hidden from the world unless it will do damage to someone outside of just me.  So for the sake of those who keep up with me through my journal, I hit a bump on the road and quickly sunk into a deep depression.  A really deep depression.

Here is what happened:  my stepdaughter will not be returning here to live and that threw me into a massive tail spin.  Without going into details, I had always envisioned myself being the strong one, and being there for my husband if this were to happen and well, it was very much the other way around.  I went weak.  Kids just kill me.

Is there a funny side to this?  Of course!  I really thought I was losing my mind.  Horrible thoughts invaded my brain and I could barely keep awake most of the day.  Barely walking made me out of breath and I was just a zombie, so I really thought I'd finally reached the point of no return.  I called my Dr. to tell him that all the meds were not working, called him in a panic, went to his office, we concocted a new drug-plan, my husband took me to an oriental doctor for acupuncture, started drinking antelope horn crap drink.  Bells, whistles and alarms were going off everywhere.  My husband trying so hard to convince me that "this too shall pass".  And then it came:  the wonderful realization that I had taken my meds backwards.

You see, it's a strange phenomenon, but one that keeps surfacing at the most inopportune times.  When I'm under a lot of stress I do everything backwards, I get lost going places I frequently visit, I develop psycho-sematic ADD and my hair turns blonde (ha ha).

Telling my husband was easy.  But I have yet to hear from my poor doctor since I left him a message that there was actually nothing wrong with the meds but with my brain instead...  I'm not sure he'll ever call me again, actually.  Let's go back in time a bit:  my first and second visits to this particular therapist were nerve-wrecked.  Hence the stress-phenomenon kicked in and I got confused and was late by, oh...  let's just say it was (barely) under one hour.  Now the meds fiasco.  And I've only seen him a total of 4 times... 

Darn, just when I found a doctor I liked...

The Diaries

Last night the husband and I went to a movie (can you believe it?), because the painters were spray-painting the ceiling in the entire house at once.

So we went to see "The Motorcycle Diaries" and recommend it to anyone who's not seen it yet.  It's about Che Guevara when he was young, and what a compassionate, caring soul he was...

Now before anyone jumps up and screams "but he was a Communist!" *please* understand that this movie was about his youth and how it all started.  The scenery is unbelievable, they show a big chunk of Argentina, which made me want to book the next flight out even though I have a flying-phobia (does anyone know the scientific name for that?).  Here is what's (to me) most important to help others understand why I still miss my birthplace:  the friendship between the two boys in the movie and, most of all, the sense of humor seen in the way they talk and in their charm -- the things I grew up with in most people.  Especially the men.

Outside of the fact that Che was major eye-candy, he was so caring, at one point it moved me to tears... but I will refrain from going into or discussing anything else, as I don't know that much about him as a grown up, only that he started from a good place.  Oh, and that my mom always loved him because aside from his idealism and good heart, he worked with lepers and treated them like anyone else.

I will continue this later on.  Gotta go on a chauffer run.

It never rains in California

Yes it does.  But who can beat this in mid-December?  (Clara and her daddy are the people in the pic).

 

Did I really need to feel this much love??

Inspiration just hit, or rather as luck would have it I ran into something that gave me the perfect jump-start to something I've been overwhelmed with lately:  My kids.

**NOTE:  Do not read this if you are having difficulty dealing with the issue of having/ losing/not-being-able-to-have kids**

 

 

 

 

 

I read a quote in People magazine (http://people.aol.com/people/ataol/galleries/0,19884,927114_10,00.html) from Brooke Shields speaking about her daughter:  "I look at her and I'm not sure I bargained to love that much. Did I really need to feel this much love?"

Yep.  When my first one was born I experienced the usual crying fit that is supposed to be a direct product of hormones gone wild.  The unusual thing about this very common incident is the kind of song I chose to be the accompanying music to my drama:  Dean Martin's "Ain't That A Kick In The Head".  Really.

I swear I played that song over and over on my headphones and as I held my very first baby I cried inconsolably.  So much so that I had to call my mom to come to the rescue...  I must have sounded so distraught that my mom somehow made it to the hospital in about 10 minutes flat from about 20 to 30 minutes away. 

The thoughts that were the root of all desperation for me were "What did I do this for??  I will now worry about this little peanut in my arms for the rest of my life!!!" but they ran much deeper than they sound.  And very much the way people see their entire life flashing before their eyes when they stare death in the face, my whole future did the same.  I felt it:  Every second of my existence would be filled with constant worry, concern, thought, love and so much more for someone who couldn't even speak yet.  Never mind speak, she couldn't even focus on me!

Then her infant-life began.  Our relationship was mostly based on her need of me and although I loved her tremendously I was aware of that.  She didn't, couldn't quite "love" me yet:  I was just her life's sustenance.

The toddler years are fairly difficult.  She still needed me but she now had an opinion on almost everything and we were both fighting to establish our boundaries... and she became "The Entertainer".

Now, at age 6, I feel her and her brother truly love me.  I can say this because at just the right times they will say things like "You are my mommy" or "because I love you so much" or "I love you more than the whole world!"

At times I just can't take the feelings, it's all too much of everything wonderful and I feel like exploding...  but who can be the recipient, where do I aim my artillery??  Who wants to hear about all this stuff????  WHERE DO I GO WITH ALL THIS LOVE??????  I'm trying not to ruin my children by being so needy.  I don't want to put that sort of responsibility on their shoulders...  And so it goes:  I sit here, in my office, hoping that writing about it will help me offload.  Hoping that some of you that bother to read this will understand the pain that lives in the heart of parents... the ones who want to strive at being the best ones, yet fail miserably on a daily basis.

And as I thank God for my children I ask him to forgive the times I did not understand His love for us...

 

 

Hair

I'm thinking about cutting my hair like Catherine Zeta-Jones has it here.  I've been sick for over 2 weeks and as soon as I can go out I want to "get pretty".

Comments?

Sick again

I'm sick again, this time unable to talk.

I HATE BEING SICK.

UGH!

 

It's not the same

There is so much I'd love to share with people I know.  There is so much in my heart dying to get out, to be expressed, shown, explained, and painted in every color.

It's so difficult to be as passionate as I am and not be able to share 100% of my experiences because of a language barrier.  There are so many amazing songs, writings, stories, etc. in Spanish that could never quite be translated into English.  The song I'm listening to now is one of those... 

I wish I could transport with words the feelings I felt in the past, growing up in a different culture.  There are feelings I felt growing up in Buenos Aires that I haven't felt anywhere else since.  For those who've never experienced it, how do you explain to them the aroma of a condiment, the scent of a flower or a specific color to a blind person?   Better yet, I wish I could take everyone on a trip to where I grew up, down my memory lane, to meet my friends...  yet thinking about it, it's just not the same.  Everything has changed and I could never re-create those scenes that live in my head nor the feelings they conjured up. 

Anyway, this song is fairly new, but it takes me back.  How?  It reminds me of the things I felt growing up, and in the weirdest way it brings back memories...?  How can that happen?? 

I suppose good music has that power.

A more likely gift

From my stepdaughter...  it's an antenna topper.

A Gift, a Giggle, and a Gag

Ahhh... to turn 39 and have a gift that will forever commemorize it! 

In keeping with the tradition of odd things happening to me, I received a copy of Playgirl's Anniversary issue signed by none other than the cover boy who's also their Man of the Year for 2003.  He even took the time to douse it with cologne.  I'm not sure what prompted this, as I did tell my friend it would be weird to see him nekkid, but what the heck -- it's just another story to add to my collection.

Suffice it to say said mag is now in a plastic baggie, as the cologne has the strength to seep into not only everything physical but your brain, as well, and does not leave it for days. 

Yes even I can smell it, yet I have no sense of smell...

 

I HAVE EVERYTHING

MY BIRTHDAY IS IN TWO DAYS. 

Every year, right around October I start to get excited thinking about what gifts I would like to ask for, but as the day gets closer I start to pull back thinking I don't really need anything...

Last night I had a thought like the ones that make people go "awwww...!" but I still think it's worth mentioning, even if it is for myself alone during those times I go back and read some of these entries:

The things I need to live:  AIR, WATER, FOOD

The things I can't live without:  MY KIDS, MY FAITH, and yes, LOVE

Therefore I've come to the conclusion that I have everything I need.  As a matter of fact I have more that all that:

The perks:  MY MOM and STEPDAD, OLD FRIENDS, MY DOGS, MUSIC

and something I would sometimes like to lose:

MY BRAIN.

Followup to "YESSSSSS" (or "the pup who saved his littermates")

http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/1026041bradford1.html

I LOVE LIVING HERE!!

I'm so happy to be back in L.A.  The weather has been amazing (outside of 3 days of rain) and everyday I get up and love looking around me...  We're on the hill and the view is wonderful, as are the streets around us -- surrounded by all these beautiful trees, plants, flowers, etc.  And *very* few bugs... if any at all.

This afternoon we went to a birthday party at a bowling alley and it was such a cool mixture of people and cultures, and everyone was as friendly to us as the hostess (who's a friend of mine from last year, when I went to the hospital with the ear infection).

Anyway, I have so much to write about I don't even know where to begin.  It's so much it feels like nothing at all, like a huge mountain you don't notice because you're standing too close to it...  I suppose the big question still lies with my last writing...  Is the baby his or not?

I am very aware that many people think I should leave it alone if she's not doing anything, or bothering us with it, unfortunately I cannot disagree more.  I think I owe it to my children to find out so someday they are not surprised by an unknown woman carrying their sibling.  What's more, I really despise allowing her to have this sort of control over us as long as we don't know for sure.  A sort of dark cloud lingering in the background.  And for those of you who know me well, you know I can't leave a stone unturned...

tune in next time...

Yes I'm back, back again...

I should write about my drive out here, the arrival into our new home and all that stuff, but there is something weighing heavier on my brain now...

Remember that entry where I wrote that "she" had given birth to her baby on the 2nd of September?  Ok, now I don't know.  It was either the 2nd or the 11th or the 12th, or maybe it was 2 months prior and that would mean it's my husband's...

As much as it would really seem an improbability, and as much as everyone who advises me has said "surely not", the fact remains that she lied about many things and most importantly she no longer wants to meet me face to face -- or at least not "tommorrow" as she put it, "but maybe in the future". 

ARE YOU KIDDING ME???  I'm not about to re-live all this again in a couple of years...  so I've opted out of this friendship of odd sorts... 

Any thoughts/questions on this?

On how the sway kept me home

Oh that sway... 

Oh, the uncontrolled feeling... 

Oh, the sweating and the shaking and the adrenalin rush and the... oh, oh, wow, whoa, whoa, whoa...  S H I T   C R A P   SHITCRAP!!!!!! 

I got to 55 MPH with the van and the trailer.  Took a turn and started down a downhill slope when the trailer started to sway...   My mind got the best of me and I thought we were going to crash and die from the increasing swaying of the van that I couldn't stop because of said slope...  But the part that reeeeaaaallllyyyy sucked was when the kids yelled the van was swaying... no confidence in mommy at that point!   Of course I didn't crash and die, but did get to slow down the van and promptly went back home.  Called the husband and told him I was parking it and that was that.  Mmhp! 

 

Ok, NO I'm not on the road yet.  Again, to those who know me "live" this comes as no surprise...  for the rest of you:  yes I am certifiably. 

The stinky guys at the stinky recycling dump/weigh station are really cool, and I think that after being there 3 times to weigh the trailer I became their friend.  It could have helped that I'm female.  And I don't stink.  But since I don't have a sense of smell I didn't take that into consideration...  Hub always manages to tell me (way after the fact) that whatever guy I've been so nicely huggy with stinks of BO to high heaven, so I've learned to let go of the grossness and enjoy the fact that I can hug a heck of a lot more people than most others do on this planet.  Anyway, the guys at the dump were really nice and helpful (actually they were not really, but did cut me a break on the price and I told them they should pick up all the good coupons out of the papers left for recycling and use them!  And if not call me and I will!

UPDATE:  The movers are showing up between 8:30 and 9:30 AM and are taking EVERYTHING.   If any of my friends in Indy are reading this and wondering whatever happened to  "I'll be coming back one more time to meet the movers", well here it is in my best Hoosierish: "it ain't gonna happen."  I'll certainly be back for a visit now and then, but I have to accept my job here is done...

Hurricane Ivan effed off and went somewhere else, which is so bad of me not to follow it anymore, but it is just too stressful a time for me to be depressed by the news. 

What else...  Oh,yeah!  We got in the van to leave for Los Angeles (before the sway brought us back) and Carmela promptly released her diarrhea all over what I had made into the kids' bed.  That was fun and a half.  Malachi proceeded to jump on said bed and stomp all over the crap and Benny just couldn't decide if he wanted to be on the bed, off the bed, on the bed, off the bed... my only assumption is that Benny was the designated shit spreader... funfunfunfunfunfunfun in the sun.  So the more I got upset with them and yelled the worse it got...  Malachi would go for "submissive" and quickly layed down ON TOP OF THE SHIT.  Benny would run away from me and spread the shit even MORE WIDELY around the globe.  Carmie just sat there patiently working on her next deployment.  I could now check off one thing on my mental "to do" list:  Figure out which dog ate the wheat tortillas.

Sigh...!

 

Going... going... GONE!!!

The other woman had her baby.  She had him on the 2nd via emergency C-section, but both are well (for those of you just tuning in, this is *not* my husbands baby!!).

Anyhow, we're leaving today!!!!!!!!  ok, those of you who know me well know that means we're leaving tonight... I mean, tomorrow very early morning... 1am I'm sure...

Regardless, our friend will be moving in on a one-year lease w/option to buy, so we're all happy, he'll take good care of it and we'll visit.  At the moment I wouldn't mind getting the house back someday as this is where my kids started their lives and in countries like where I come from people don't move from house to house a lot.  Come to think of it, after my family fell apart going back to Argentina has always been bittersweet.  Fortunately for me the structures are still there and I can reminisce...  except for my saving grace - Sacred Heart school:  I heard it's gone, but will probably never verify it personally.

Ok, veered off enough, gotta go the west is calling!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YESSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pup Shoots Man, Saves Litter Mates 9/9/2004 http://aolsvc.news.aol.com/news/article.adp?id=20040909111309990002   :-)

Newsflash

Florida:  all is well and all are well...  at least with my immediate, blood-related family.  Today I'll check up on friends if the phone lines permit it.

The impending move:  God is sooooo looking out for me...  Yesterday I went to show the guys at the dealership how the blinkers weren't working on the trailer and while driving there and back I noticed that the trailer tires did not look very happy...  So today I have to go by U-Haul to get the part to fix the blinkers, and to a place where they can weigh the trailer.  I really think hub overpacked it and it's just not normal to leave tire marks when I turn... 

Malachi:  My boy is going with us.  He's been a lot more tame, so maybe it will all work out.  Given that I'm virtually going alone, he'll be great for protection and then some...  So, it's me, 2 kids, 3 dogs, a fish and a snake.

Oh, the snake:  We found the cutest garden snake in the world.  So for now she's our new pet.  Jury is out on whether we will really bring her with us.  (I assume she's a she because she's very "she-ish")  Don't ask.

So I'll go now to feed the kids some "rapidoli" and get the trailer ready.  Will post more later...

G

Frankie

Frances is taking her sweet time.  For crying out loud, she's worse than me...!  I still don't know if I'll be driving West or Southeast...  I suppose as soon as I wake up I will have a better idea whether I should drive down to Fla. to help my "peeps" or drive to L.A. to our new home.  My guess is the damage assesment will be a call for me to drive down, after all my mom is there and, well... who cares why?  I feel a call so I follow it.  Some people don't understand it, but it makes perfect sense to me.

One thing I couldn't believe though...  Geraldo Rivera was reporting on Fox.  That guy is like the drunken aunt (or crazy grandma in my case) who manages to get in every single photo at a wedding...  no matter who's in it.  Ah, well, it's good for humor during a time with not much...

It's only 3am I know, but I have to get to bed early...  ;-)

G

 

In All Seriousness...

Amazing how things change in life (or at least in mine) from one minute to the next...  As of last night I decided to postpone going to Los Angeles until Frances is over.  Chances are I will probably put my supercape on (the one nobody else sees but me), hop on my SuperSUV and drive back down to where I once lived to try to help my parents with the aftermath.  At 74 and 83 I think they've lived through enough to have to do so much cleanup work -- and since the meds I'm on still have me on ManicPanic mode, I'm all energy.  As a matter of fact I didn't sleep last night.  I just did laundry.

I did break down this morning because of Frances...  I am frightened for those I love so much and all I can do is just sit here and wait...  My parents chose *not* to leave and will probably not go to a shelter either.  I do believe now it is their choice, although I wish it had been different, but I understand their point/s. 

(going to take a bath to try to relax -- will be back in a bit unless I'm asleep and drowning)

Ok, I'm back and refreshed and feeling like talking about my parent's choice.  I've already heard others' opinions and when I hear their side I am respectful of their wishes.  My mom has said that my step-dad is in no condition to drive and as far as she goes, not only does she hate/fear driving but the traffic getting out of Florida was just too much.  The shelters available to the area are only 2.  She said that with so many people (2.5 million) evacuating and trying to find shelter there would be no room and even though I tried to argue she then said that my dad would in no way stay at a shelter...  he's just too feisty...

One more point she had was the return home.  She doesn't like the uncertainty of your home's survival and what to expect when arriving... plus all that traffic again...

I had to agree.  Even if I hadn't agreed I would have solely based on the fact that at their age they should do as they please. 

God knows I love them and I fear, but that's my problem.

I think now I'll sign off and cry for a while...

 

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

I *finally* went to sleep, after tossing/turning for an hour followed by spooning, which calmed me down...   aaahhh... there's nothing like human contact for the needy...

Award time (although not related to my taming the Zs) here it is:

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Ok I lied

This is truly the last entry for...  until I sleep.

Anyway, following the entry about the Cultured Dairy Snack, I remember when my niece and nephew were visiting from Argentina, where the cats are just cats (I'm really going somewhere with this).

At the time we had 4 dogs and a cat.  I'd never been known to my family as a cat person so both my niece and nephew were a little surprised when they saw Zihua gliding by.  One of them asked if I was worried about the dogs living with a cat, so I told them no because I felt confident about how the dogs treated that very sweet kitty.  Then they asked if the scratching wasn't a problem, given that we had leather sofas and wood furniture.  Well again I said no, because she'd been declawed.  Then they asked if I wasn't worried about her getting pregnant, given that's something cats do (by the way, find "Cats and Dogs" written sometime after Feb.) and they do quite often.  One more time I said no because she'd been fixed.

Then came a long pause.  No questions, no comments, just silence. 

One of them finally broke the quiet and with a sly smile said "So, if she one day starts meowing incessantly, will you have her vocal cords removed?" and we all laughed uncontrolablly at how ridiculous it all seemed...  But while I laughed, I remembered there was a time when I didn't know about these "advancements" and a cat was just a cat and they scratched you if you annoyed them.

The answer to their vocal cord question?  Maybe. 

Then if I did, could say I have a "cultured" cat?

One more before sunrise

Ok, I shall try to sleep now.  I hope the sun doesn't come up until 3pm.

I hope the phone doesn't ring, the dogs don't bark ever again and I hope the kids will go upstairs to the studio and self-homeschool themselves all the way to 12th grade in one day.

I also hope I can fall asleep when I lie down.

Make a wish...

I wish I could sleep!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic PanicManic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic PanicManic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic Panic Manic

What time is it anyway?

2 MORE DAYS and WE'RE OUTTA HERE!!!!

Carbing my control

In our silly attempts to not only control the universe, but to also eat whatever we want without actually ingesting it, we somehow gave the good folks at Dannon the brilliant idea that their new "Carb Control" yogurt could be a good thing to put out on the supermarket shelves.

I tried this whatever it was only because I started using coupons (I figured out you can actually get free stuff) and this was one of those free items.  Yes I know, "now we know why it was free."  But seriously?  It tasted nothing remotely like any yogurt I ever had anywhere, ever.  As a matter of fact, as soon as the spoon went in my mouth I panicked on how the new medicine must be altering my mind as I clearly recall getting a  yogurt  out of the fridge and this was not yogurt.  It was whipped Ivory liquid soap with artificial berry extracts and a topped off with a bag of aspartame.  I then looked at the container, it read:  "Dannon (R) Light'n Fit Carb Control Strawberries 'N Cream NATURALLY AND ARTIFICIALLY FLAVORED.  80% less sugar and 1/3 fewer calories than regular lowfat yogurt.  Keep refrigerated..." blah, blah, blah... and THEN... in the smallest of print...          

                                         "Cultured Dairy Snack"

So there you have it.  I was right it was not yogurt.  They  compared it to yogurt, but they never stated it was yogurt.  Be proud, you're actually eating a "Cultured" dairy snack as opposed to an "uncultured"(?) one I guess?  Because we put our culture all over it... ahaha...  yessiree...  it is cultured and it was free.  Whew.

Manic Sunday

Ok, so last night I went to bed at 8:30. 

Not p.m., A.M. 

At about 10:15 a.m. my husband woke me up because I was asleep in my daughter Clara's bed and he wasn't sure why.  I was mad at him the night before and I didn't want to forget, so I slept alone -- get my logic?  If I wake up in a different place then I'll remember I was mad at him as soon as I get up!  Otherwise as soon as he gives me the little good morning kisses on my neck that I just looooove I will forget I was angry in the first place, nevermind what it was that originally pissed me off...  Hmmm...  I'll have to figure out a way so I can remember that too...

Now it's 2:47 am and I'm writing.  I'VE SLEPT 1:45 HOURS AND I AM STILL AWAKE, NO NAPS, NO CAFFEINE, NO DRUGS, NOTHING.  I don't exactly know what's going on at the moment, but I just can't stop.  I've feel like Jeff Goldblum in the beginning of "The Fly"...  I talk and talk and have all this energy, and even though my body is tired, my mind won't let it rest.  bUt i WoN't TrY tO cLiMb tHe WaLlS eVEn tHoUGh I fEeL LiKE it.

Why is this happening you might be wondering...?

I think the above is why.  I just started a new medicine and it's just rrrreeeeaallllllly messing with me.  Or it could be the impending move to L.A. which will happen either Tuesday or Wednesday, whenever I finally get enough rest to drive.

Ok, new thought coming in.  Gotta start a new entry.

B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets

Bennie just peed on the carpet.  I thought he was trained...

This morning I took our dog Malachi to his (possible) new home.  We can't take him with us to California because he has the bad habit of biting.  He mostly doesn't like men:  Tall and skinny men, dark men, men with deep voices and anyone that gets too close to either me or the kids and in the L.A. house we won't have much room for him to run around in.  I don't know, but at his age I think it's best to leave him in Indiana, where he's used to the weather and where he'll have a Rottweiler for a friend.  Then again, I've been so sad over this whole thing, since he is truly the only living being I ever met who I know would die for me - for us.  He is so incredibly protective... 

We'll see how it goes.  Although the place he's at is quite far away, I might go see him tomorrow, to see how he did overnight.  Plus I want to take some things to him.

I'm so tired.  It's 3am and I'm still writing, albeit with my eyes closed...

Sad story

I spoke to my ex-husband today.  It's so sad to hear in his voice that he's on heroin again.  The slurry speech I've been so used to hearing is back.  He tried to blame it on the phone, the cell phone - you know how those phones don't work very well... 

I don't feel I can blame him this time, though, because he's in a lot of pain from an accident he had.  He was in a coma for 3 days, shattered 3 vertebrae, broke 2 ribs and lost his ear (but was re-attached) and now isn't given enough painkillers because of his addiction -- so he gets relief elsewhere.

Through him I learned a lot about drugs, more than I wanted to know but maybe someday I will be able to use the information.  For the time being I'm telling what I've learned to my step-daughter in hopes she'll always be careful.

One thing I didn't realize until I witnessed him starting to go into a withdrawal was that the body gets addicted.  I used to think it was just a mental/psychological thing...  duh...

And he was someone who'd never tried and never would try drugs...  they got him anyway...

 

Sundays

I know it's Saturday, but the kids went out with their dad, so it feels like a Sunday to me...

I cannot believe how cold it's here... still.  Fortunately we didn't have to go through a hurricane like my mom and friends in Florida.  Everyone was told to evacuate Tampa so they went to Orlando.  Charley then changed his mind and followed them there...  sheesh...!

Anyhow, everything is a total disaster.  Nobody I know was hurt and my friend told me that there was only 1 casualty in Daytona, no one we knew...

Oh, and the power is out.

BINGO... not!!!

The last few days have been cold here in Indy.  No joke, the place where summer can get brutal and humid has been like fall heading towards winter.  Last night I think it got to 50 degrees (I can't find the little "o" to abbreviate it).  I've loved the change this year, it's like a bonus...

I last wrote a post where I was venting pretty heavily about something that happened in a town nearby.  Somehow my post never posted...  which left me wondering if: 

a) I made a mistake,

b) I have someone watching over me,

c) it's all a conspiracy and there was more than one shooter

Regardless I shall continue on my quest to be heard (or read), but this time, I'll keep it short.

In a town called Avon there have been people protesting a sign that said "Bad Ass Coffee" which is the name of a coffee shop company.  According to the county's newspaper, last week (after months of said protesting) the shop closed down.  Amazingly as it is to me, those protesting called the sign "immoral, obscene and indecent".  This coming from a place where at least one of those protestors is a huge fan of "Sex and the City" (the HBO show) and her husband's favorite character?  Sex fiend Samantha (I know this, I got connections..)  :-)

Well, I will leave you with this:  In the same newspaper I read an article (with photos) about the town's fundraiser called "Bovine Bingo".  Wanna guess what that is?  It's BINGO, based on where the bovines take a crap.  ("Bingo!!" says one,   "Bullshit!!!!" says another).

I just don't know anymore...

uninspired...

My laptop is still in a coma...  I don't know why, but it's just not the same for me to write on the desktop.  It's just not as inspiring, plus it's easier to take the laptop where the kids are so I can be in the same room and they don't interrupt me as much...

I can't wait to get it back, but until then I'll give this more of a try.

 

Tee-hee-hee

Today was the perfect example of what launched me into wanting to fix things around the house myself.

I never quite finished fixing the outside hot tub because I was still missing a part.  Then, I forgot I bought said "part" ($60+) until my husband reminded me today.  So I got right on it.  I went outside, again crawled under the deck, and proceeded to try to remove the old part from the hot tub's motor.  I know I could have done it, but I didn't feel like fighting with said piece, so I called my manly man for help.  He came right over, looked, inspected and tried to remove the piece.  Since he was now in charge, I went back to my office to try to fix my sick computer because I couldn't find a hammer...

In he walks claiming he needed the right tools.  After going to the garage to get them, he walked past me again and he went back to the hot tub.  A couple of minutes later he walks by me again, but this time claiming he needed yet a different kind of tool because "this is a really big job - a lot of work to do this!"  Yet again he walked by looking very worried and although I don't remember what he was looking for this time, he stopped for a few seconds to tell me that this was a really complicated job and he wasn't sure we could fix it.

He finally comes back in to sit down with me.  He proceeds to explain to me that there was a sort of inner-clamp that was holding the piece in place.  It was a very complicated thing that needed some sort of "special" tool that we would have to get, but of course we wouldn't even know where to get it.  "Can't we just break it?" I asked.  "No," he said, "we would need it again to install the new piece, with this special tool we have to get".  At that point he got closer to my desk and me and started drawing for me what he was talking about.  I do love him so much...

I didn't say anything.  But I was pretty sure he was wrong.  Mainly because I did ask about this piece's installation (easy, I could do it) and the new piece didn't have anything remotely close to a clampy thing.  I just thought that rust was the culprit for the old piece not releasing.  Well... to end this story, it was the rust, he broke the piece off, and let me do the rest...

...by tomorrow I should have our hot tub ready.

Kill, kill, die, die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MY COMPUTER IS VERY SICK.

I THINK I'LL KILL IT. 

ACTUALLY, I WISH THERE WAS A WAY TO TORTURE IT...

...INTO SUBMISSION. 

UGH.

Questions (An Assignment)

The assignment for this week is:  "If your pet had the ability to say one full sentence only, what would it say?" (or something like that)

Carmela, our teacup poodle who sleeps in our bedroom, would most likely say:  "you're lucky I only get to say one sentence, you freaks!!!"

The other part of the assignment was:  "If you had the chance to ask your pet one question, what would it be?"

"What does God look like?"

If I had a million dollars (or "Surfin' USA")

I'd invite my most fun, down-to-earth, love to just hang-out kind of friends on a really cool vacation somewhere.  Like to an all-inclusive resort, or some beach in Brazil or better yet Punta del Este.

Ever since I was young I've had a list I keep in my head.  It is the list I refer to as "List of people I'd invite on my ship to the moon if the earth were to blow up".   These people range from someone I used to know in High School to people I've been fortunate enough to meet albeit briefly.  Once I wrote my list down, but I have no idea where it could be...

I can say this though, my friend Patti would be on it.  Her super-cool mom too.  Oh!  and their old chihuahua Candy, just because she let us make pretend she was surfing while singing "Surfin' USA".  Too long to explain that but this talented dog could take 4 steps with her front legs while taking only 2 with her back legs.  I called it talent, others called it old age...

 

Indiana Skies

My husband and I have traveled to many places, some of them considered among the most beautiful in the world, but we both agree on one thing:  the sky in Indiana can be quite amazing.

Many, many times as the sun goes down we've seen a display of vibrant colors more beautiful than anything in a photo, painting or even a doctored photo.  From orange to magenta, sometimes a little of gold that fades into a faint yellow... maybe lavander fading into a light blue that frames a very white, elongated cloud...  and more than that, the sun shining through in a way that makes the clouds' edges glow as if they had electricity running through them, or better yet, bunches of sunrays beaming down as if God Himself was touching earth. 

Today going home was like that, and it got more beautiful as the sun went down.  My husband and I have called each other on the phone before to share sky sightings, they are really that good.

I could go on forever, I could stare at these skies forever.  But most of all, I wonder why it is that the skies in Indiana are so amazing.  All you see here is the "amber waves of grain".  In other words, lots of flat, boring cornfields... until you look at the sky.

PS:  One of these days I'll get a picture, even though I hate to limit this unparalelled  beauty to the parameters of a camera lens.

Where's my apple?

We all survived the first day of homeschool.  Although Bala seemed as interested as a rock star in a nursing home...  It was funny, really, but at the time I just wanted to put him on permanent time-out.  The problem is that I tried to get him on the same program as Clara (Kindergarten) which is clearly not for him.  So I went onto the www.CalvertSchool.org website and ordered the Preschool kit.  I now have one for each.  It is one of the easiest things I've ever done, plus, the kids are thrilled to be spending so much quality time with me at once.  We do crafts, play games, etc. all in the span of a couple of hours. 

Today was just a good day.

Home School

Starting our first official day of homeschooling...   but I'll only teach 3 of my kids, the other one has too much work to do today, and I think having a 47 year old in our "classroom" will only be disruptive.   ;-)

 

Me and Mr. Smith

...need I say more?

;-)

 

(This picture was actually taken the weekend before my husband went to Vegas for his rendevous...  At the time naive me told him that Smith had nothing on him... Of course, afterwards I was more honest...)

The thrill of opposite

I would like to know if the following belief of mine is actually true:

   Through the past few years I've noticed something about us humans.  That people seem to be the complete opposite of their everyday persona when in the bedroom... am I mistaken?
I'm usually perceived by others as secure, in control, etc. etc. and I must admit I do have certain control-freak issues...  but in the bedroom I like the man to be in charge, almost like the little catholic schoolgirl in me resurfaces and (on the most part)  I like to follow the lead.  Lately, my husband has been slightly aggressive (would it be improper to share that I've had my panties torn off?) and I'm as in love afterwards as I've never been... I just want to wait on him, dote on him and basically act like a schoolgirl in love.  I've also known women who seem very proper and demure in public, but turn into total sluts in bed. 

So what is it about sex that makes us act completely out of character?  Not only do we act that way, we enjoy, look forward to, and welcome the changes.  Are these changes what we really wish we were like, or some other, complicated, psychological thing I don't even want to get into?

This all has been a problem for me in the past, as some men I've dated assumed I would be an animal in bed, but found it to be completely the opposite, after the long wait to even get me there in the first place.  A couple of guys even assumed I'd been with women as well...  which couldn't be further from the truth (although sometimes I wished I had so the playing field would have been wider...)  And if it's true, what one sees in the movies and TV, that the S&M clubs are frequented by executives and powerful men... this would really prove my theory right.

Regardless, although I enjoy getting freaky, there have been only two men in my life who have made me want to be the attacker as well as the attacked...

...and I married both of them.

 

If I was a Superhero

From all the AOL Journals first anniversary hoopla, I came across John Scalzi's assignments.  So here I go:

If I was a superhero I would be the Time-Defiying Woman.  I would break all the social barriers and standards as to how punctual one should be.  I wouldn't be just "fashionably" late I would be "let's call all the hospitals" kinda late.

Never would I be caught in the binds of time and travel, I would free everyone of their schedules and gladly mess up their day by being an hour or two late.  I would even put doubt in people's minds by being late to my own wedding (40 minutes).  If anyone out there knew someone a little too uptight, just leave it up to Time-Defying Woman to make them fall apart at the seams while waiting on her to show up.  Watch the kind turn mean and the mean go crazy; the calm start twitching and the impatient just explode...!  YES!!  It's time to turn the tide, Time-Defying Woman is alive!!!

Extra credit:  As a superpower I would like to be invisible, because I already fly when I dream so I don't need that superpower...

Doo doo

My life really needs to slow down...  Many friends will tell me to "breathe" and "relax" and "take some time off", which are all great concepts, except that it is not me who has a problem, it's the life around me that does.

Suppose I do change into a bathingsuit tomorrow and lay out by the pool all day...  by the time I came back inside everyone would be hungry, I'd have to clean up dog doo doo, have my s-daughter remind me that we didn't pick up the new t-shirts at the church, run completely out of room because I didn't deliver the cans I've collected for our church, have a gazillion messages from friends I was suppose to call so we could do something in the afternoon with all the kids, my husband asking (again!) if I'd finished fixing the hot tub (yes I do), the trash all over the floor because I didn't change the bag...  and much more.

So I would have to:  feed everyone some cereal, clean up fossilized dog shit, go by the church on Monday to pick up the tees, bring the cans along and find the home where they now need to be dropped off, apologetically call back my friends (3 of them), finish the hot tub now that I have the part I need, clean up trash... and much more.

Now, is it worth it to me?  Heck NO.  As much as I know people have the best interest at heart when they tell me to slow down, they don't realize I'm running in front of a snowball that keeps going and growing the longer I let it go.  Which was wonderful when I was single, but not since I started working for the little bosses with runny noses...  most demanding job I've ever had.  Oh!  and I don't get paid.  Or vacation.  Or sick time.  Or a Christmas Bonus.  Or even my own desk!  Or my own anything!!

Then Clara hugs me, tells me she loves me sooo much.  She asks if I'm ok when she thinks I'm hurt and she does things to make me laugh. 

And then Bala tells me I'm gorgeous, he kisses me and sings his "Mommy, mommy, mommy, you're my favorite mommy!" song he made up.

So then I'm happy for about 5 minutes, until I realize that one of the dogs had diarrhea...

 

Well I've never!

I've never written in my journal about the kind of day I had.  I suppose I'll try it and see how it goes:

Lately it's been difficult for me to get up in the a.m....  probably because I'm so overwhelmed by how much I still need to do before we move.

I pretty much sat around most of the early day and did things on the computer, made calls, etc.  But at one point I had such bad twitches that I was freaking my lesbian friend Amy out.  The problem was that my stomach  was twitching, so my whole body would move.  It really was like the times that people twich on purpose and they over-do it to make it obvious...  or at least it felt that way!  I'm just glad I didn't drink coffee.

In the afternoon I convinced my hub to go with me to pick up a fridge from someone on Freecycle for our garage and he agreed (amazing!).  He even went without really knowing where it was as I was only going by the memory from my one trip there in the dark of the night. 

It was beautiful just being with him by ourselves, without any appointments, any rushing, any plans...  He even thought I'd lied about the fridge just because I wanted to spend time with him, how cute is that?  Actually, that could be perceived as vain...

Anyway, we drove around forever and then I told him to take a couple of turns and lo and behold we found it.  The fridge is even working just fine!  How cool is that.  I highly recommend everyone to go to www.freecycle.org and sign up in their city.  If they don't have one, then start one for crying out loud!  You will then be able to get rid of those things that you don't want to pay to haul away and receive things that you've always wanted (someone today gave away a HUGE Yucca plant - I missed it by 20 minutes).  So, check it out.

Back to my day.  Took the hub to pick up my Harley (yay!  it's now running!!) and he rode it back home.  The first thing I did at the shop was start it up.  It was sooo cool hearing the rumble again, and feeling the strength of that bike under my butt.  I'd been away from it for so long!  I can't really describe the feeling any more without alienating a few people.  ;-)

I ended my day doing some cleaning, blogging, having dinner and running the dogs back inside before a major storm with the possibility of a tornado.

That's all.

 

Journaling

I wonder if journaling is all that great a thing as I at times envision, or if it's some fad that only geeks do.  I say that freely because I'm the biggest geek.  I'm such a geek that I used to be what was called a nerd, and that's because I've been a nerd (that time has changed into a geek) for a long time.  The only reason many people don't realize I've been such a nerdgeek is because I don't wear glasses or even look like a typical nerd.  But believe me, I am.

Where am I going with this?  Hmmm... let's see...

In the center of "me" I don't really give a flying shhh-saucer about what or who I am, as I repeatedly do things like stick my foot in my mouth, say something completely unrelated or random, try to make an obvious joke, etc. and I don't stop myself. 

Remember "Revenge of the Nerds"?  How prophetic was that??  Bill Gates has been laughing non-stop ever since...  People in H.S. thought I was a dork for taking typing, or even when I took "Computing 101", literally 101.  It was so basic with all those 0s and 1s.  My big project was making up a program that was (get this) a game where after going to an Adam Ant concert in N.Y., one had to go to the Waldorf Astoria and find out which room Adam was staying in.  I told you I was a nerd!

 

Time won't give me time

I don't know when I'm leaving for L.A. at this point.  There is NO WAY I'll make it by the weekend and I feel bad leaving the house the way it is when there is still a lot more that could be done to make it so much better!!

I might just postpone the trip until we are ready to move for good...  After all, if I go now I might have to go by myself with the kids, as because of my travel uncertainties, those who might have gone with me will not be able to at this point. 

That certainly sucks!

But I'll adjust to the new idea and be happy that it's summer in Indy, otherwise I might crawl into a hole and not come out until spring...  I really dislike the winters...

Kelly finished a painting today (the first in many years) and she even titled it "The Darkness Inside".  I think it's a great thing, not that she has darkness inside, but that at 14 she's trying to communicate that she's not all that happy...

Hopefully we'll be able to talk about it.  Rather, she'll be able to talk about it. 

I better go, I'm getting really jittery from the medicine and I'm twitching like mad...  I feel like Faith Hill in "The Stepford Wives":  Do-si-do, do-si-do, do-si-do...!

Heeeeeere's... ME!!!

I WAS ON TV LAST NIGHT!!!

And I forgot to tell everyone.  In a way it's selective amnesia, I wanted to see it before everyone else.  I'm not sure why, but it feels sort of safer that way.  Kind of the same way it is when I get photos developed - I must see them before anyone else.  I am not sure why, because I always end up showing all the pics anyway, even the bad ones.   Strangewise that's right up there with sitting in restaurants with my back facing the wall...  Could it be the Italian in me?  Were my ancestors in the Mafia at some point? 

Anyway, the TV show was for the Local Fox 59 News, and it was on at 10pm, which is better than 3am I suppose.  So, they were doing a story on women who do renovations and repairs themselves and how it's a growing trend and they wanted to center the whole thing around me.  I just can't believe they didn't find anyone else, as I'm sure there are *many* women out there who've done way more than I have and are way more knowledgeable about these things.  Especially since I still refuse to call tools by their names and sort of give them my own ("the grabber tool") or just call them a name that basically explains what the tool is good for ("the grabber tool that can be used to loosen up things"). 

Out of respect for the tools I work with I must get serious and report that I used a NAIL GUN for the first time and it was the COOLEST!  I also SOLDERED a copper tube for a friend of mine, after we installed her new hardwood floors.  It was so great!  I wonder how many uses one could have for these things...

Ok, so the show made me look like I was a complainy bitch who was slightly sick of her husband not fixing things and they conveniently left out the part where I answered that the real reason I did all this was to impress my husband. 

That would not have made for a good story in these days, I suppose!

 

 

 

 

Happy Anniversary!!!

 

Ok, there it is, I did it.  I did not think I would do the torch thing, but I read someone's journal who seemed pretty cool and she had a torch.  So I decided that as always it's all about perception...  and as long as you have Wonder Woman involved it's going to be cool.

Of the good superheroines WW was always the best to me.  It wasn't until she was born that I became excited about superpowers.  Especially when it entails twirling to get said powers going...  It wasn't the way she looked, with all those curves I knew  there was no way she could be very agile, but her femininity was definitely there.  And the twirling.  Loved  the twirling...!

My all time favorite was Catwoman, but she was so bad (in the traditional sense of the word) that I couldn't admit to liking her...  She was a woman, a seductress like no other I'd seen at my age and she kicked ass.  Secretly I twirled and pretended to have golden cuffs, but Top-secretly I wanted to be Catwoman.

However, as life would have it, and as I learned in my much later years, you sort of have to be born that way, that kind of woman.   I just know Catwoman would have never been caught semi-naked with her keys locked in the car while the car was still running and her purse was inside...  (find "Nudie Rudie") 

All this suits me just fine.  I've mastered growling much better than I ever would have a meow.  Just ask my husband.

 

 

Bless you!!

Today I was thinking about the dynamics of people, society and spirituality... and this came up: If we are to unite as people, get close to each other, share, live in community, etc. etc., how are we to achieve this and remain spiritual when the things that connect us are mostly superficial?

To bond with friends I go shopping, we get our nails done and gossip. We bash men, complain and mostly do things that would keep us away from our spiritual beliefs and go against most religious teachings.

To ensure a fight with most people, one needs to just talk about God, or their religion and their differences are most likely going to keep those people apart. Or, at the very least like they do not have that much in common, after all.

So what is it about something that is mostly about ultimate love cause us to get so defensive?  I am not trying to bash religion, only the way we are...  How can we get it so wrong??

Don't know why

I'm so sad right now.  I just got back from my old TaeKwonDo school feeling a deep sadness, so I thought I'd write to see if anything interesting comes out...

Let's see:  I went by there today because they were having a test, but this test included the Black Belts (they only test twice a year).  It was really nice seeing friends I hadn't seen in a fairly long time.  It was even nicer that they were happy to see me, so much so that two of the testees thanked me during their thesis, and that was incredible - the best part is that they were 9 and 10 years old... the best!!!  There really is nothing sweeter than being loved by children.  They have a way of loving through somewhat idolizing those they love.  I know I can't be both, but I would love for my children to love me as their mother and as their little "idol", but they've seen too much of me for that to ever happen...  Regardless, I'd rather have their mommy love.

Anyway, I finally told some people why I left the school, and gave them the short version of what had happened to my marriage in the past year and I think that it stirred up a lot of memories for me...

I don't really think that's why I'm sad.  Maybe I'm just tired.  I miss my husband and this is when it's hard.  When he goes out of town and I realize that when he was here we weren't really together.  So then he calls me and we have really good talks and we feel close, but then he comes home and I lose him again.

Can someone explain this?

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

Who's the fairiest of them all? 

Who gives a shit? 

Me. 

I've always given a shit, because it seemed that even though the wicked stepmom was vain and wanted to be the most beautiful, sleeping Beauty truly was and because of that she would get a handsome prince to fall in love with her and show the uglier one that the most beauty wins.  I distinctly remember linking beauty with kindness, fairness and all that was good, and ugly with meanness, hatred and all that was bad.  I'm not blaming the fairytales, but they most certainly didn't help matters of self-confidence much. 

In school I recall the "pretty/ugly" lines, when other girls would watch us walk by single-file and point and call out who was pretty and who was ugly.  Sometimes you were nothing.  I was that many times.  I was that not because of anything but the fact that "pretty" were the friends and "ugly" were the enemies.  I know those girls knew the Sleeping Beauty story.

What I'm writing is very predictable.  The 3 main ones (Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella and Snow White) were always beautiful.  What about the Ugly Duckling?  Happy ending *after* he became a swan. 

Fortunately, I saw the old black and white "Huntchback of Notre Dame" and it made me cry.  I was very young, but it made me see that it was the "beautiful people" that could act the ugliest and all of a sudden everything balanced out.  The world sucked and that was that.

I do wonder what the world would be like without mirrors.  How would we be if we didn't really know what we looked like?  How would it be if we had to depend on others for our grooming?  The only thing I would truly miss would be to not be able to pop a zit, or get an eyelash out of my eye, as I don't like for anyone else to do those simple pleasures for me.

There are days I wake up feeling beautiful. I go around *convinced* I'm the fairiest of them all and I'm nice and kind and polite and by the time I get a chance to look in the mirror I realize I didn't look as good as I thought, indeed I look like one of the step-sisters.  Those are the worst days, the days when the mirror cracks.  If I hadn't looked I would have carried on with my day thinking I was Snow White and I would have dreamt of that handsome prince.  But the mirror reminds me that I'm not exempt.  That I might not be "good enough" in many occasions, that even if I think I'm a good person, in reality I'm not, and that my husband could indeed leave me for another woman at any time.  This helps me appreciate him more, as well as everyone around me that loves me no matter what.

All in all, I still secretly wish there were no mirrors, not so much because of anyone else, but more because of me and because I know in my heart that beauty counts, albeit only in this world, but this is where I have to live.

Someday I hope to really not give a shit.

Marital Bliss (or the lack thereof)

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME why I love my husband so much.  At this point it is probably the fact that we have so much history together and I'm a sucker for melancholic memories. 

Things have changed and at the same time they haven't, and I have not enough patience to wait for them to.  The truth is, I don't know what would happen if I did run into a George Clooney (a man I would find incredibly attractive) and he wanted to steal me away.  All I do know is that in almost 10 years of marriage and 2 1/2 of dating I never found any man to be enough for me to give up the man I already have.  I know I would die for this man as well, and that life would not be the same without him.  I always felt that no woman besides me would love him enough and I've always wanted to fiercely protect him from anyone who would cause him harm (I get that way when I love much).  It's the day-to-day that's killing me.  And it's the same little bullshit things that I take as signs that he doesn't care. 

Ok, now I'm boring myself, so onto something else.

In talking with my lesbian friend Amy about her relationship with her girlfriend, she was saying how they talked about the time they were broken up and how Charla (the girlfriend) didn't want to and wouldn't have anyone else INSIDE her...  say what??  Amy has a penis???  (I am now as dense as my mom.)  Amy looked at me like she hadn't realized I was stupid until just now and was surprised by it.  I didn't ask if she had a penis of course, but I did say "what do you mean?" which is just as bad -- or maybe worse?  Amy patiently said it was their hands that they used.  "Aaaa-...ha!"  I said, all the while thinking "well, that clarifies that!!  I always thought they did other stuff and didn't like to be "entered".  What do I know, I never planned to be a lesbian anyway.

I must say, though, that in seeing my friends when they are together, they seem way happier than any of the regular hetero "breeder" couples I've seen, ourselves included.  The "girls" still spend every minute together mostly giggling and enjoying each other's company,  after being together for the last 7 years as a couple in some of the worst possible living situations...

That's what I want, I want my husband to want to spend time with me and make an effort to.  I want him to giggle with me as if we had some really great inside jokes.  I want him to run home because he can't wait to be with me. 

And while I'm at it, I want world peace and a billion dollars.

Reality School

Screw reality TV.  Kids seem to love it, so why not "Reality School" instead?

I was sharing with my husband the story of the breeding rituals in the world we've created (see Blah, Blah, Blah) and how the experience made Kelly never want to breed dogs for a living or a hobby or anything else.  So far we've succeeded in her not wanting to have babies (she witnessed the birth of her brother as she wanted and YES we did get her prepared for it), we succeeded in de-romanticizing the notion of breeding of cute, little, slimy puppies, so the next step, I told him, would be to take her to some hospital were they run detox programs for drug addicts.  Live and learn, I say.  He mentioned that his uncle worked in a detox place and he wished they would bring High School kids by for a field trip to get them to never do drugs, as he believed this would work wonders.

After seeing what reality school has done for Kelly, I wholeheartedly agree.  I wonder why schools don't do this, and if anyone out there reads this and has an answer, please let me know what it is.

This idea is really taking off in my head.  I think I'll go on the web and find places where Kelly and I can do real charity work.  I mean get down and dirty into it.

That should help us all, me included..

Blah, Blah, Blah

I have nothing to say.  Which is strange because I haven't written in so long.  It seems a lot has happened and at the same time nothing that I think is that interesting, but how strange since I've always found even the most insignificant of things interesting.

Ah!  Here is something.  I can just sit and watch ants working for long periods at a time.  I don't know why, but I love them, *and* ants are considered the most insignificant of God's creatures.

Something a bit more interesting:  We're driving back from having Carmela serviced.  Yep, our teacup poodle was in heat, so we thought this was a good chance to have something that Kelly could get involved in.

Kelly?  Right.  That is my step-daughter who's 14 and is living with us since about a week ago.  She's with us because this was a way for her to avoid being held back yet again (2nd time) in school and having to share classes with kids that are 12 years old.  I agree, at that age it would be sheer torture, watching all your friends moving on and you get to hang out with the youngsters. 

We will be giving homeschooling a try.  I hope (don't know if I can) to bring her back up to something closer to her age level.  She's already taken her placement test and as soon as I finish the questionnaire I'll mail it out to the Calvert School (they have a homeschooling curriculum that's wonderful).  They will then look it over and determine what level she's at by U.S. standards as opposed to Belgium standards (where she has lived since she was 3, with her bio mom).

Back to Carmela.  My hope is that Kelly will learn to care about something else besides boys and fashion.  Wish me luck.

Anyway, I thought I might someday enjoy being a dog breeder.  I love dogs and I seem to love chaos so why not, right?  I finally understand why the gal who bred Carmela gets $250 a pop.  She literally helped the little stud (2.5 lbs. versus Carmie's 4) not only get up to reach my dog, but INSERT his doghood into our virginal princess.  Wow.  Ugh.  Ick.  She asked me to hold her head while he banged away and when he was ejaculating (all 15 MINUTES of it!) she held their little privates together.  Yessss sireee, she did this until little stud decided he was done.  And let me tell you, from looking at him when he *wasn't* excited, he must sexcercise a lot.  His package was humongous.  My husband decided that Carmela had actually been hoping for something more along the lines of a big Shepherd and that's why she kept trying to pull away.  But you get what you can when you can when you're hoping for a baby (yes I just had flashbacks of the times I desperately tried to get pregnant).

Revelation time?  I think I want Carm to have puppies because I'm ready for another baby.

Just a thought...

What would the world be like if mirrors didn't exist?

38 going on...

While talking to my friend Patti yesterday, our conversation brought to mind something that I didn't get to discuss with her, but I consider it a wonderful phenomenon...

A couple of years ago (maybe three) I started to notice twenty-something boys looking at me in a funny way.  At the time I thought it was a funny way, assuming they saw me as someone "older" who could have been something when she was around their age.  Or maybe they found it funny I had such young kids at my age.

I soon realized that those "funny way" looks were something way more when I started getting hit on by boys who could almost be my sons (at least in Biblical times).  

Now I understand the supposed "cradle-robbing" women like Demi Moore...  It's not something women do or go through, like the Swan Song of our youth or to feel younger.  As a matter of fact, I've never felt more attractive in my life without depending on a man (or men) to approve of my looks.  I'm with kids all day, mostly dressed down (understatement) with no make up at all and stressed out.  But I feel sexier than ever.

SO... in conclusion and a message to the world:  it's not the WOMEN robbing the cradle, it's those BOYS knock-knock-knocking on our clock-ticking doors!!!

Thank you very much.

 

A happy bird sings better

and a happy wife writes better.

I've noticed that ever since I moved back into the house my postings have not had much humor...  That's not good, because it speaks of my state of mind now that I'm living here again.

And speaking of "here again"... with the prospect of moving to Los Angeles closer than in the horizon, I've been working extremely hard to get the house in Indy ready to show so we can list it.  I realllllllly don't think we'll get anywhere with it in the state it has been for the last few years.  Oh, who am I kidding, in the state it has been since about 10 years...

I've done so much work, and it has brought me closer to the home I never called my own.  It's always been Stefan's house:  He bought it (although we both own it), he re-modeled part of it, he decorated it with his things, and he's always made the decisions involved with it.  It is only now (and I suppose because of everything that's happened) that I am finally comfortable and sure of myself to make certain (albeit small) changes. 

These changes brought about a certain understanding of the house, and a feeling with it that if I could just get it up-to-date and well organized, it would be much easier to maintain.

So, should I just let him move to L.A.by himself??  ;-)

Ring-a-ding,

or, "My Sore Spot"

If your wedding ring set reminded you of bad times in the marriage and the inscription read "love and trust forever" when he had cheated and you wanted to start anew, would it be in bad taste to ask your husband for something different to mark the beginning of a new beginning? 

As I said in the entry before this one, I had asked him to "blow my mind" before I were to return to the marriage and to live with him again.  I clearly remember thinking and (I thought anyway) telling him to load up on the romance.  Anyway, I guess to men, the message women have sent them through the ages is that romance = money.  Or something like that?

So I found out what my husband was about to get me was not only the same exact wedding ring set he bought for me 10 years ago, but A BIGGER version of it...  Indeed!  I would now have to look at the same thing as before, at twice the size, and possibly with a message inside that said "romance and money forever"?  I just wanted some emotion, something from the heart...  those are the things that come for free.

I'm not comfortable with him spending gobs of money to repair the damage done, so I'm nervous about our trip to Tiffany's in Cincinnatti tomorrow.  Although I do want to have a nice heirloom in our family to pass on, I really want something that I will look at to relive the turning point in our lives.  The pinnacle of what we've worked for, the final answer to the question "WHY DID I MARRY HIM??"

What a girl wants...

...is really good girlfriends. 

When I moved out of the house I told my husband something that I considered extremely important:  That if I were to ever come back, he would need to really blow my mind.  To explain:  before we got married, he never actually proposed to me.  I threatened that I would move back to L.A. and stop following him around the world "acting" as his wife with not many of the benefits...  He ended up asking, of course, but not if I would marry him but if I "wanted to get married" in the same way and tone as when asking a woman "would you like to look like Elle McPherson?"

Hmmmm... let me think about that one...  I'VE ONLY THREATENED TO LEAVE YOUR ASS TO MOVE BACK TO LOS ANGELES AND BE ALONE AGAIN because I thought it would be fun! 

I've moved back to the house because the lease was up and I couldn't get my head around paying any more rent for the apartment when so much work had to be done at the house anyway... 

As I sit here and wait for my mind to get blown I wonder what is inside me that makes me come to my senses and act practically and give in? 

Fortunately for him I have friends who listen.  And care.  I'm sure (no matter how much he claims it was his idea) my lesbian friend Amy (I wouldn't label her, it came from her) said something to my husband about my frustration:  Tomorrow we are going back to Tiffany's to "upgrade" my engagement ring to a different one. 

Oh, and Amy will take care of the kids.  I wonder how that happened...

 

These are extremely funny

The Washington Post's Style Invitational once again asked readers to
take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or
changing ONE letter and supply a new definition. Here are this year's
  winners:

  1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you
realize it was your money to start with

  2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

  3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright
ideas from penetrating. (The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little  sign
of breaking down in the near future.)

  4. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of
getting laid.  (my favorite)

  5. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject
financially impotent for an indefinite period.

  6. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

  7. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person
who doesn't get it.

  8. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

  9. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all thesereally
bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a 
serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming
only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they
come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've
accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your
bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor (n): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the
fruit you're eating.

  And the pick of the literature:

18. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole

tic toc tic toc

Like sands through the hourglass... so are the Days of our Lives...  if that's not one the most depressing things I've ever heard, I don't know what is.  I remember the first time I actually paid attention to what that voice at the beginning of the soap was saying and I almost had an anxiety attack.  I envisioned my life flying by and not being able to return to any of my past or ever see again certain people again and I swear I couldn't breathe!  It took me a while to get over that one.  I wonder who the severly depressed maniac was who came up with such a catchy phrase.

This past Friday I was painfully reminded (literally) that I'm getting old.  It was the kids' last day of pre-school (I'm going to homeschool), and the big day of their end-of-school program. 

I'm such a pain in the ass at the moment, that my husband had to give up a big dinner in England where he would have met the Queen so he could be here for said big day.  Well, although I still insist that the program started before the supposed 11:30am  starting time, SJ and I got to the school to witness the last half of the last song.  By the time we were all set up with the camera and reached our daughter it was all over.  All of it was over and finished and out. 

What's more, on my way to Clara I bent down to pick up my purse and my back had a jolting pain on the lower right side.  I made it to where she was but sat down as soon as I got there.  Then my whole body just froze.  If I as much just breathed it hurt like crazy.  It felt like a never ending cramp that I could not make better no matter what I did.  The school director called 911 and I ended up in the ER, where my left side (lower though) started what the right side had already done.

Fortunately those ambulance guys are very intelligent and one of them helped me by moving my left leg.  Thank you Bill from the Carmel Fire Department!  Anyway (and to shorten this), I laid there for SO long my back stopped cramping and the muscles knotted up and froze in place.

So I lied to the nurse and told her if I didn't go home I would start to have withdrawals from my medicine so they let me go.  Otherwise I would probably still be lying there starved to death and dehydrated.

Feeling OLD,

G

An email from Tracey

Here is an email from Tracey, my friend who moved to L.A. from Indy.  This is the best way to describe her... *and* she should start her own journal.

 

"that is not right gabe.hey my link didnt cooperate.is it freecycle.com???net....org....aliens....????
free the aliens!!!
i want us to make a shrit of pepes picture member how we did that once only i need white not black teeeee shirt. hope your back feels better.
sales are sucking.
doug is sucking more i am incredulous.or something.wow.I mean i can be self involved as the next guy but pllllease!
#^#^$*^ ing computer keys keep sticking and jive.yeesh getting new one when i come home
cant wait although hear it has been alll rainy and shiznet.
eeesh.no duck weather for T i do want one thunderstorm though.I have requested one at night
preferably Mon or Tues
.Last time I forgot to be specific and got stuck
in a hailstorm in bloomington at an antique mall for like 3 hours.
dang i knew every nick , nack and dust bunny in the whole place!
so anywho i think i will be more specific this time.
hmmmm guess i will give peepee a bath thats my fun fri nite!!!
sample sale tomarrow at warner bros. lot freds and lisa cline and etc bunch of stores....i know you are jealous!!! he heee
cant wait to seeee you"

Eduarda Guerrero

Nope, I haven't become my mother.  I've become my grandmother instead.

Eduarda Guerrero used to sit in front of the T.V., tune into some show she hated and would have arguments with it.  She would criticize jeans' models to their face and would get completely enraged at the lack of decency invading homes everywhere through that little black and white TV screen.

Maybe I don't have loud arguments with an inanimate object or people who can't hear me, and I certainly don't wait for a traffic light to turn red on me to bolt across the street and curse the drivers, but I do tune in to lame shows so I can criticize them.  Love to hate them.  In that sense, I love Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilera too...

I also think of running away sometimes and not tell anyone and show up at someone's house with a wild-eyed look saying "I ran away, don't tell anyone".  My aunt would call in a panic looking for my grandmother...  and how much would I love to have the guts to say "Go take a shit in the woods, you old goat!" to my husband just because he changed the channel.

Ah...  the wonderful things we learn from our elders about aging besides being old!  I was so young that it was all taken with humor, so as far as I knew my grandmother was the greatest comedienne of all time.  Unfortunately, I don't think she had any idea how wonderfully funny and colorful she was.  From keeping gobs of money within her sleeves, rolled up in hankerchiefs, to giving us the equivalent of $100 for candy and $1 for a new dress, she may not have been the sweet grandma one would imagine, but in my eyes she was the best.

Buenas noches, Abue.

Unbelievable

Never did I think I would tune in to watch "Showbiz Moms and Dads".  I even told myself not to waste my time. 

I'm now half through the second show I've ever seen and it's just unbelievable.  I do realize that some of these kids (the older ones especially) really do want to be in that business, but I can't help to think (as most people I'm sure) that when it comes to the younger ones (ok, the little blonde beauty queen) there is something wrong with the picture.

I remember always wanting to be a ballerina.  I wanted to be my oldest sister, who was very succesful at it and couldn't think of a better way to make your life as someone who could express themselves with their entire being to music.  Until not that many years ago I would get extremely emotional if I watched any sort of ballet production -- thinking about what could have been.  I did take classes for a brief time, and was not good at it, but I still wished I had started younger and kept at it longer.  I remember removing my pointe shoes after class and my toes would be bleeding from the blisters... but I knew I wanted to keep dancing. 

A crazy phenomenon:  During ballet class I didn't feel pain while on my toes yet coming back down and walking to the back of the line felt like I had razor blades in my shoes.

Conclusion:  as long as my children develop a passion for something (be it sports, art or whatever) I will support and help them, but I pray God will keep me from pushing them into something under the false pretense that it is good for them and/or their character. 

If anyone out there ever hears my name mentioned on "Showbiz Moms & Dads" or any reality show, please hunt me down and have me committed. 

Thanks in advance,

G

Happy smother's day

I just realized that every time I write on my journal the TV is playing in the background...  There are just so many things I could never get done if it wasn't for the television, as wrong as that sounds, but why pretend that I don't rely on it to keep the kids busy? 

Today was quite possibly the BEST mother's day I've ever had.  It was just the kids and I (dad's traveling) and nothing huge happened, but from the moment they came running out with their little gifts and forward was one of the best times of smotherhood.  Their faces were lit up as if they had swallowed stars, the excitement and anticipation at my reaction was too great for them and I thought they would explode.  With Clara's blessing I opened her brother's gift first.  It was a photo frame he made in school with a picture of him wearing a man's suit, tie and hat and that goofy grin of his when he is trying to be cute.  On the back it said:  "I love my mommy because:  I love her so much".  Why explain it, good enough for me!

Clara then gave me what she had made and it was a little flower pot with crafted flowers in it and a beautiful card with a poem.  The three of us took turns hugging, then Bala yelled "Group hug!!!" and the three of us hugged and laughed and kissed and I thanked God I was alive.

The three of us are always together, we talk all day, we play, I try to ignore them, they don't let me, we get in fights and in general we smother each other a lot. 

Tonight before they go to sleep I plan on smothering them yet again with millions of kisses.  Because it's mother's day and I get to do what I want and what I want is for it to be SMOTHER'S DAY. 

Goodnight.

Journal of the Weak

Valium is *such* a wonderful thing...  When the going gets tough, the tough take Valium...  many of them...

I just had to go to my happy place today, as I realized that my home is not it.  I am alone again, with my kids and my wonderful lesbian friend Amy, who makes me realize I'm not alone, after all.

Just a married single mom.

Joshua Judges Ruth

First of all, thank you to Lyle Lovett for unknowingly letting me borrow the title of one of his albums for this here beloved journal of mine...

Ok, so here it goes:  I will summarize an argument I've had many times:

Other person:  "Being gay is wrong"

Me: "What about 'though shall not judge'?"

And then, O.P.:  "Oh, I'm not judging, I'm only stating what the Bible says" 

Yes.  Ok.  So isn't that what Judges do?  Don't they tell us what the written law is??

Just a thought...

Not the Sopranos

I suppose I have been purposely avoiding talking about my marriage for a reason:  Everything is going fantastically well, but I am in disbelief.  So at facing the risk of writing something that:  a) is a facade; b) realize I've become one of those women who fail miserably to recognize the fairytale is anything but; c)  I will regret reading later...  I've avoided the issue completely.

The changes in him have been unbelievable.  I feel really loved and all that, but most importantly I see a change in him, in his spirit.  He's much more relaxed, way more emotional, more conversational, more considerate and attentive, just miraculous changes to say the least!

The most beautiful part is watching this man I've loved for so long come up to the surface.  So I don't have to dig and dig to find him anymore...  I want to spend more time with him and have recently turned down great offers for entertainment because I wanted to stay with him and the kids...  I finally feel that we are a family.

Tomorrow I'll wake up and it will all be different I'm sure...  But that's how it goes.

I ate-a Cicad-a

 I feel a migraine coming on...  UGH!

Wow, I got back to Indy at just the right time.  Spring has definitely started and all kinds of critters are coming out of the woodwork. 

Most importantly (and thanks to AOL) I found out that this wonderful state of Indiana is one of the hosts of nature's 17 year ritual of the Invasion of the Cicadas.  If anyone has ever seen the Land Before Time kids' movies, it's just like the episode where those bugs invade everything...  Except that it lasts about a month.

Seemingly (and this time thanks to National Geographic), these bugs go underground for 17 YEARS and then come out sometime in May, when they do something else and then die.  This year there will be more cicadas than ever, BILLIONS of them and they will be crawling up everything and making noise...  I'm just so thrilled about this.

My 5-year old FREAKS about the smallest of bugs on her...  I really don't know how I'm going to help her through this, except I did come up with two ways, and here they are:

1)  Start telling my daughter all about cicadas.  I can go out, dig some up and put them in a glass container so we can be part of their cycle.  I can make a point of doing cicada crafts, look for the first few that come up and really help her understand the whole thing so she's not afraid, OR

2)  I can  stay indoors the whole time, express my disgust at the cicadas crawling all over everything, let her freak out and use the cicadas to help me convince her that moving to L.A. in June is the best thing since there are no bugs in L.A.

Now that should make her forget all about her friends.  Of course, when she grows up she'll never want to return to Indiana, but I guess that's why we have therapy.

I've heard some people eat these buggers, and if I had any balls or had gone completely insane I would, just so I could say the very catchy "I ate-a Cicada", but on the other hand it's just not worth it.

Back to Paradise City

Yes, it finally happened...  Stefan bought a house in L.A., so we are moving back to the place I once called home.  We'll finally be leaving Indiana for the almost perfect California weather WOO-HOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can't believe it.  Now I just have to finish the house here (painting, etc.), wait for the school to finish for the year (mid May), stay for the 500 race (end of May) so June will see my ass running out the door heading west.  I will be driving across with the kids and hopefully my friend Christina.  I also hope she'll be ok w/the kids in the car for that long.

I assume we'll be back to Indy sometime in July for our daughter's birthday and to finish the big move. 

Yay.

What a trip part 3

On the way back to shore Jim showed us an infamous sailboat that had very recently gotten stuck in the sand (remember my comment about the 4 feet of water?  This is a place where you only get a foot deep for every mile sailed).  It is a tragically funny tale about a man spending too much on a sailboat he will never be able to sail in *those* waters...  I personally thought he should leave it there and turn it into some kind of rental room on the water for those romantic souls, but changed my mind when we were told the next day that the boat had started to sink because it had tilted to one side. 

We finally made it back to the house.  I swore I would never go on one of those rides again, but as I sit here typing this I wish I was out on Jim's boat, waiting and looking around for something to happen.  Full of anticipation:  will the fish bite this time?  Will we be needing rescue?  Will this boat start back up?  Is the guy on that boat saying hello or flipping us off?? 

Later on I had to go out for some things to a more "metropolitan" area, so I asked Jim if he needed anything.  He said (dramatically overacting): "Love and understanding!!" 

I want to thank Stefan for introducing me to James Rosenquist, just one of those people...

What a trip part 2

As with the previous visit, Jim took us on the traditional/ceremonial fishing boat ride, and as before, in the spirit of tradition I suppose, we caught nothing.  Without any doubt though, the best part is watching Jim rig up the fishing poles.  I believe one of them was used by Christopher Columbus when he took time off to go fishing after reaching America.  The other two I don't know about, but added to the fact that we could see the bottom of the ocean (all of 4 feet deep), I was sure we went out on the boat not to fish, but for something only obvious to Jim that we will probably never figure out. 

The boat's motor by the way (and again following tradition), died a few times.  Additionaly, I noticed the fuel gauge was on empty.  This didn't seem to concern Jim at all, and at least the kids weren't crying (*they* were wearing life vests).  I, on the other hand, felt like crying when I started to think about how we would get back to shore if God forbid something happened or how we would call anyone if in need of help as I saw no radio, no horn not even fire for smoke signals...

Eventually, Jim bent over to pick up a small plastic package that held an even smaller air horn.  As Jim quickly opened his Dollar Store find (pure speculation on my part but with good reason, given that it's Jim's favorite store and from the way the horn looked it's a pretty safe assumption), I didn't feel much better.  Mostly because when he let our son blow the horn for the first time it failed...  as a matter of fact it failed a few more times.  Finally, the sound came out of it and it was as if the horn was actually calling for help for itself, begging to be put out of its misery...  After a while, the horn blew more steadily and we all re-joiced.  Actually we just laughed, really, since the mighty sound of the horn could not even get in the way of just plain conversation and even less catch someone's ear to come to our rescue...

What a trip

It was a shitty trip, with one exception:  Nevermind, two exceptions:  I finally took the art class I referred to in "Artsy and Fartsy" and we got a chance to go back to visit my husband's friend, artist James Rosenquist.  I didn't know this, but for those of you that know about art, James has just finished his Retrospective at the Gugenheim Museum.  This just so impressive.  But the best thing is getting to know Jim, or I should say trying to get to know Jim...

I met Jim through my husband quite a few years ago, but everytime I see him I get to know him a little more.  He is truly wonderful, funny, very creative, amazingly talented, and just great fun to spend time with.  Conversation with him may often go the way of a boomerang:  it starts to get away from its point of origin, almost too far to be recognizable and after making a huge circle it quickly and surprisingly returns to where it first started, thus completing a very fulfilling trajectory that makes all the sense in the world.  So while his mind is like a maze, his lifestyle is very simple and extremely uncomplicated.  His home is by the water on stilts and the town he lives in is like a small country village, where everybody knows everyone else and they all seem to either love to fish or just love the water, I suppose like in other small towns by the water.  Anyhow, while there one can hear the sounds of silence, the water is very calm and there are hardly any disruptions anywhere, you can even hear the bugs flying around...

So upon arrival at his place we show up with:  his & hers laptops, his & hers PDAs, his & hers cellphones (which didn't have a signal the entire time we were at Jim's) and so many gadgets spewing off wireless signals that any alien flying by would have gotten a hard-on. Jim, on the other hand, had an old model cellphone that I never saw on him, two hybrid cars, and some boats that many people would take pity on. 

CONTINUED...