It's over. And I really mean it this time.

It's just too painful. I'm finally going to admit to myself that I will never have what I want out of him, and I'm calling it quits. He probably won't notice. It's not like I ever see him. It's not like I ever talk to him. This is more for my own sanity than anything. All I can do is this: I can stop hanging out with him and Don. That's what I did this past weekend -- When Don went to his place on Saturday to watch a movie, and had him to dinner on Sunday, I made myself scarce. I'm moving on. I feel so much better now.

Too painful

After I wrote that last post about him we had a very sweet time together. Actually we've had two alone times since then. And I see him almost every day but always in the company of my husband. He rarely asks to see me alone. I need to see him and it hurts when I don't. Yesterday he said we could go motorcycling today but he hasn't called to schedule. It's really really painful for me, all this waiting, all this hoping. I'd rather it were over.

Rhiannon called yesterday from her marine training camp in Monterey. She's connected at the hip to her boyfriend, apparently. He's always there in the background. They seem to have an excellent relationship. I can't talk to her though with him always there. I can only do light silly surface talk.

I'm feeling really blue today.

Bob's Leaving

He came to work here August 2004. We had a wonderful time, him and me and Mike. I bet everyone else on the floor was a little jealous of the fun we had, of the laughter bursting out of the office we three shared. I am going to miss him very much.

Hi Charity, Will you be at the Southern Sun later? Otherwise, I just wanted you to know that I had a lot of fun working with you, and I'll miss working with you. -Bob

Gotta Let it Go

It just isn't working out. He threw my feather in the trash. He didn't even ask why I brought it or why I wanted him to see it. He gets irritated if I do something he doesn't like. I still can't talk to him. I feel stupid around him. It just isn't working out.

Over - Again

I'm going to try again to have it be over. We're just not progressing. He has too many issues -- big issues in the male psyche, ones that render him ineligible to be in a relationship. They don't matter to me that much but I'm not making the decision here. What matters to me is that he doesn't call; doesn't try; doesn't seem to care if he sees me or not. I can't hang on any longer. It is no longer helpful. Now it just hurts.

Sailing

I went sailing with Joe and his kid Lauren on Saturday. We went to Union Reservoir, a little reservoir up in Longmont. It's not nearly as pretty or as large as Boulder Reservoir. It was kinda crowded but apparently gets even more crowded as the summer wears on. I had a nice time and didn't get burned – always a plus. I used to want to learn to sail due to the influence of a couple kids' books on the subject (Swallows and Amazons; We Didn't Mean to Go to Sea; Treasure Island -- all highly recommended BTW). I even took lessons a couple of summers ago (as faithful readers of this blog know) and mainly learned that with sail you have no control over your power source. You only manage it as best you can. At Boulder Rez the wind varies tremendously; sometimes there's almost nothing then it suddenly kicks up to be more than a beginner can handle. That was just too scary for me. I don't want to captain a vessel anymore. Being first mate or just able bodied seaman will do for me.

We had some nice private time in the evening, too. Don had gone to a friend's to watch Game 2 of the Stanley Cup, so when Joe called there was just me. I went over; we cuddled and played UpWords; very nice.

It's funny how people are -- we've gotten naked together, but he's still not really comfortable enough with me to fart in front of me. He said so. And I'm not comfortable enough with him to discuss the minutia of my day.

A Handsome Couple

That's what Joe said we were. We went out to a restaurant for dinner last night, just the two of us. Don knew and was fine with it. Don thinks we spent the evening only and just talking, I guess, whereas really we went to Joe's afterwards where we shared some personal time. It was all very sweet and wonderful but as usual I wonder are we definitely and for sure together now? I won't be sure until I know I have his heart, the way he has mine.

"It hurts"

Joe called this morning just to hear my voice, he said. It hurts, he said. Ha. He admitted something personal. Now how far will he run to get away from it?

Love Poems

Had a nice weekend this past weekend -- uneventful but nice. Got a lot done around the house, chatted with each of the kids, and so on. Nothing really big but all enjoyable. Sunday evening we grooved (yes, grooved) to Beatles' music while Joe beat D and me big time in UpWords. Joe and daughter invited me to go paddle-boating with them on Waneka Lake on Sunday afternoon. We had a great time in a little replica of the African Queen. Both Friday and Saturday nights D and I went to J's place to take in a movie. I saw a book of love poems on the counter there. Does he think of me when he reads them?

Lovely Lunchtime

I got my wish -- private time with my boyfriend. I'm back at work now but it's so nice out, plus I'm still floating on that golden cloud, so it's hard to buckle down and get stuff done.

Happy Mother's Day from Rhiannon

Rhiannon emailed from her training station: "I'm sure I don't say this enough. You are the best mom ever. I probably never really thanked you for putting up with me all through middle and high school, but you did. Thank you for letting me do my own thing when I needed to, and smacking me around when I needed that too. :-) You are a great person. Sorry I didn't send you flowers! Bad daughter."

Our Two Problems

which I'd like to verbally acknowledge, are that 1) I'm married and 2) he's got erectile dysfunction. With the first, we are bucking society and God and our own moral natures just to be together. I'm sure that every now and then he hates himself for doing this and hates me too for falling off my pedestal. The only way out is to redefine what is good so that it includes this. Plus, being married means I can't even be a decent girlfriend. With the second, well, his diabetes and smoking have caught up with him. Little Joe is just a shadow of his former self, and though I did not experience it fully, I do remember his former glory. I figure, though, that if little Joe was up to par, he'd have the confidence to go get himself a real girlfriend instead of settling for me. And since I've wanted to have him in my arms for soooo long, I count myself lucky -- it's because of the ED that I get to have him at all.

First Communion Party!

An excellent weekend has just passed. On Friday I volunteered to make a cake for my niece's First Communion party so spent Friday night baking. Saturday morning I decorated it and Saturday afternoon I visited for hours with my siblings, nieces and nephews. I love those people. We had the best time. We talked about the differences in the way mothers and fathers bond with their children, what a good education consists of, how beautiful niece Emily is (she's 16 and off to prom!). I managed to get some nice shots of my toddler nephew waiting his turn to play catch. Michaela's Saab 99 got vapor lock so Don and I went to rescue her Saturday evening. He acted like a total jerk which I totally had to call him on. Sunday was Home Blessing Day. Don and I bustled about cleaning the place inside and out. It was a busy productive and happy day. In the evening I popped "November" with Courtney Cox into the DVD player and watched it while I worked on knitting Michaela's Slytherin scarf. Ms. Cox does an excellent job in this dramatic role. Too bad the story line is so awful. It left more questions than it answered. What really happened? Who took the pictures? So is her boyfriend dead or not? What was real and what wasn't? Was the whole thing a dream? If so, I don't appreciate being jerked around in that way. Was the whole mystery that she got shot too? Interestingly done; very artsy, though probably (in the words of the detective) "too artsy for it's own good." Bottom line: it didn't make sense.

Me - a MILF!

I received two excellent compliments yesterday.

First, daughter Kendall popped over unexpectedly but I couldn't stay and do much visiting with her 'cause I had to hit the gym. I hadn't worked out Monday and I knew I wouldn't have time on Wednesday so it had to be Tuesday. Kendall said I didn't really need to as I already was a MILF. Do you know what that is? It means "Mother I'd Like to F**k." All this working out and cutting calories has worked! My kids' friends think I'm hot!

Second, daughter Michaela's got a goth friend named TJ who I really like. He wears all black -- stylishly ripped pants, safety pins here and there, a black leather jacket and a black hat. Oh, and black nail polish. Apparently most adults are afraid of him. I found out today that he didn't like me at first because I wasn't afraid. It took him a bit to warm up to me. Now he's really nice and sweet.

I'm a disappointment

So apparently my kids supply excellent cautionary tales. I made the mistake of telling Joe about Michaela's little shoplifting incident (she stole a candy bar and had to do a day of community service). He told his six-year-old, and included the appropriate editorial comments (how could she be so stupid, what was she thinking, etc.). His daughter added that Michaela's goth friend is probably nothing but trouble.

I know that Joe likes to talk. I should have been more aware that the stuff I tell him might end up in stories to other people. It'd be too bad if Lauren's mother forbade her to come to my house because of my delinquent daughter and her goth friend.

I'm also aware that he expects me to be perfect and is disappointed when I am not. In practical terms, this means I can't talk to him about my troubles as I am not supposed to have any.

Creeping toward Polyandry

I hope to drag Joe and Don into a polyandrous relationship. They may come kicking and screaming, but they'll come! I'm kidding of course. A polyandrous relationship won't be successful unless it is is based on openness and honesty, and everyone wants to be there. We've still all just friends. Joe hasn't yet agreed to 'marry' me, and Don hasn't agreed to let him.

Anyway, last night we were sitting on the back porch, smoking and talking like we always do, and huddled in blankets and coats as it was chilly out again. Joe smiled at me then turned to speak to Don and suddenly I saw us as a family of three. I imagined it was a year from now, and everything's settled, and we're even happier than we are now. Adding Joe to the mix has helped Don and me tremendously. We wouldn't be getting along so well as we are if it weren't for Joe.

Then we went in the house where I whupped their butts in UpWords -- for the second time in a row! Go me! Joe went home, Don and I cleaned the kitchen, and Michaela came home so we had some fun teasing her. She's a great kid. Whatever it is we three have, Don and Joe and I, it is very nice, it makes us happy, and I hope it can continue.

Email Xchange

Kris: (sent meeting summary and homework assignments)
Kevin: my dog ate my homework assignment.
Bob: My homework got run over by the bus...
Me: My homework slipped on the ice and broke its leg.
Kevin: umm..does 3 periods count as correct punctuation?
Me: Do two?
Bob: An additional 33.3% more than two! :-)
Bob: You know it has to be close to quitting time.

Princess

"No one can say 'no' to me" Michaela, my 17-year-old, told me yesterday. It's certainly something I've had to work on.

Yesterday she went to a friend's house after I had told her not to go till I got home. I was really mad, not only that she'd left before I arrived but also because she'd made a mess in every room in the house. What am I, her personal maid? I stomped angrily around the place for a bit then went to the friend's and brought her back home. On the way back she pouted and said she was gonna run away.

Go ahead, said I, I'll keep your new laptop and cancel your cell phone.
Then I'll light up a cigarette and put it out on my arm, she said.
I think we both should light cigarettes and put them out on our arms, I said.
Want to smoke one? she said.
It will get my car all smelly, I said.
We'll roll down the windows, she said. That's what me and Kendall did and you never knew we smoked in your car.
Then let's light up, I said, though I'm not a smoker.

And so we shared a cigarette. And later she told that no one could ever say no to her.

Funny Story

So last Saturday Joe invited me to come with him and his little girl to World of Wonder, a local children's museum/play place. I went. Lauren and I had a great time playing dress-up and chasing each other around.

A weird thing happened though. While Joe and I sat in front of the little stage, eagerly awaiting her performance, he told me a story. Lauren had asked him if he loved me. She's an intuitive little thing, he said. Then he said, "NO!" loudly and laughingly.

I just looked at him. It's a painful topic for me since a couple months ago I told him I loved him and he said he didn't feel that way. So now it's a joke? It's casual conversation? Where does the intuition come in? I could think of nothing to say that wouldn't betray that I was affected so I said nothing and just looked away.

I've thought of things since, of course. "That's a funny story but I'm not really the audience for it" or "It is amusing that anyone might think you felt that way about me" or "She totally missed that call, didn't she?" or "How could she be so wrong?" or simply "Of course not."

Going to San Francisco

I'm going to a seminar in San Francisco next month. I grew up in the Bay Area but my folks never took us kids there. I haven't been to the city since John Borton took me sightseeing there in 1984.

I had just finished college. I remember I wore a sleeveless blue gingham dress with gingham frills around the neck and armholes. I enjoyed looking feminine and tried to look my best that day. John took me up in a helicopter and we flew over the whole bay. It was a sunny clear day and so incredibly beautiful. I used to wish more than anything that I had not come back to Colorado; that I had stayed in California with John to see how things worked out.

Now my daughter's at the language school in Monterey and I'm going to a seminar in San Francisco. I get to see her and I get to see the city. I'm sitting in front of my computer, looking at the place on Google Maps and crying for the beauty of my childhood and for the love that didn't happen.

Forgive me, dear reader, for the silliness of this post. I honestly wouldn't change my life, not anymore. I've finally learned to let things be. The main point today is: I get to go to San Francisco!

The Oscar for Best Documentary

Did you know that in 2003 Michael Moore won Best Documentary for his Bowling for Columbine? And yet his documentaries aren't really documentaries -- they are PhotoShopped opinion pieces. I've seen several of his 'documentaries' and they were all similar in that Moore left out half the story and so tightly-edited his video clips that he made people say what they hadn't actually said. It'd be like taking a video of me saying, "Yes" and then fronting that with a video of you saying, "Do you approve of public hangings as a deterrent to crime?"

So, Best Documentary means nothing.

Heck, March of the Penguins won it in 2005 and that was nothing more than a two-hour Animal Planet piece. The trailer was more interesting than the movie.

And now we've got Gore's An Inconvenient Truth for the 2006 winner. I imagine it won solely because Hollywood wanted to send a message to Washington D.C.

I Miss Him

I'm doing really good with my resolution not to call Joe or take any initiative to see him. As a result, I haven't seen him alone since our lunch date on Jan 2. He hasn't asked to see me, that's for sure. I occasionally see him when Don brings him to dinner or when he invites the two of us over. I'm calmer now -- life isn't so much of a roller-coaster ride -- but I do miss our private times together.

Best Horoscope Ever

"Today is an 8. A person you may have forgotten all about comes back into your life. He or she remembers you fondly and many adventures begin."

Totally cool! Just think, Aquarians everywhere will be meeting up with an old acquaintance today. I'll let you know how this works out for me.

Later: Nope, a no long forgotten friend came back into my life. Except Joe who I had given up on. He came over to dinner and later called me at work. Sheesh. He didn't ask to see me though so we aren't getting together. As said previously, we'll get together when he asks to get together.

PostSecret: If I had a million dollars...

One of the early PostSecrets was:

'If I had a million dollars I'd give it all away for one more day with her like it was in the beginning.'

There's only one thing I'd trade a million dollars for. If I had a million dollars I'd give it all away to get Joe a working pancreas.

Rhiannon's off to Camp Lejeune

I took Rhiannon to the airport today. She's off to the School of Infantry at Camp LeJeune to be trained in basic infantry. She wore her uniform -- I wish I could tell you which but I can't keep them straight. I only know it wasn't dress blues. What's it called when you're wearing green pants, green jacket and tan shirt?

Anyway, a lot of people flying coach were getting in the security check line for people flying first-class, Rhiannon included. It was an easy mistake to make. The security guard made a general announcement that all people flying coach needed to get in the other, longer, line. "Except you, honey," she told Rhiannon. "You stay here."

It's neat to see the respect she receives from airport and other personnel when she's wearing her uniform. America DOES support its troops, however we feel about the war itself.

Some quotes: Every Marine is, first and foremost, a Rifleman.

The Purpose of Life

Why is it so hard for me to figure out what life is all about? I want to know NOW so I can dedicate the rest of my life to it, whatever it is. I've thought about this question for most of my life. I'll be 47 in a few days. No more thinking. I want to know and act. So I'm the Hermit. I go on spiritual retreat to contemplate life's purpose. I don't have a ton of experience to draw from but I have some. From my experience, what would I say is life's purpose?

First Answer: It's unknowable. That is, we can't know for certain that there is something or someone out there defining our purpose. It's here that I always get stuck. I always find myself wondering and searching for revelation, for meaning outside myself when really it is not there.

Second Answer: Therefore, we must find the answer within. We define it ourselves. And when I consider all that I know of the universe, the living things and the non-living, I find myself in agreement with those who say, "The meaning of life is recursive. The meaning of life is to live."

I love Ayn Rand's thought that man is a heroic being, his own happiness is his moral purpose, productive achievement is his noblest activity and reason is his only absolute. I find that encouraging.

My PostSecrets

What would I put on a postcard and mail to PostSecret?
1. I am afraid of people.
2. When my kids were little I loved them to pieces. I loved being their mom. But when they became teens I knew they were now smart enough to see my faults and reject me. So I rejected them first.
3. I have never felt like I fit in anywhere. Not my friends, not my family, not anywhere.
4. I've always been sane about love. Until last year. Last year I met a guy for whom I would throw EVERYTHING away -- my husband, my kids, my house, my life -- if he would say, "Come with me." And it breaks my heart that he won't say it.

Why Don Likes Joe

You know why Don likes you so much? First, of course, you're easy to like.

Second, you're a bachelor. All his friends are bachelors. He totally prefers the single life -- no kids, no wife, no demands at all, just the game on a big-screen TV, a few beers, a little pot, and a male friend to watch with. What could be more perfect?

Third and most important, he senses that I like you. There's no way he's gonna let himself be jealous. He prefers not to feel those kinds of emotions. Instead he goes the opposite direction -- he tries to be your best friend. He's working his ass off to be your best friend. He's all over you 100% of the time. There's no room for me at all. And what hurts is that you are totally fine with that.

So, I'm officially throwing in the towel; I withdraw my application; I forfeit the game. Team Charity is walking off the field. Score: Don 1, Joe 1, Charity 0. So I won't be over for TV and UpWords anymore, and if Don asks you in for dinner, I'd appreciate it if you would have something to get done at home before he comes over for the evening.

Don and Joe, Best Friends Forever.

I wonder if he ever thinks about me

This is a self-answering question. If you ever have to ask that question of yourself about a guy you are supposedly seeing, the answer is NO!!!!!

White Light Meditation

Just get quiet, sit and meditate on the concept of being surrounded by a fourth dimensional protective aura, and meditate on the concept that you have a divine birthright to health, wealth and happiness, to friendship, confidence and success.

Here on an autumn night

Here on an autumn night in the sweet orchard smell,
Sitting in a pile of leaves under the starry sky,
Oh what stories we could tell
With this starlight to tell them by.

October night, and you, and paradise,
So lovely and so full of grace,
Above your head, the universe has hung its lights,
And I reach out my hand to touch your face.

I believe in impulse, in all that is green,
Believe in the foolish vision that comes true,
Believe that all that is essential is unseen,
And for this lifetime I believe in you.

All of the lovers and the love they made:
Nothing that was between them was a mistake.
All that we did for love's sake,
Is not wasted and will never fade.

All who have loved shall be forever young
And walk in grandeur on a cool fall night
Along the avenue,
They live in every song that is ever sung,
In every painting of pure light,
In every pas de deux.

Oh love that shines in every star
And love reflected in the silver moon.
It is not here, but it's not far.
Not yet, but it will be here soon.

Garrison Keillor 1998

Too Easy for Him

Lunch today. Fairly nice all around, with some unhappy bits. Nice: touching his body with hands and mouth, talking, the good-bye kiss he gave me. Unhappy: I screwed up the food so he went w/o and was insulted when he mocked me about passion. I think he mocked me. I honestly can't be sure of things any more; I'm way over-sensitive when it comes to him.

I do think I'm making this too easy for him. It's time for another shot at leaving him alone. Resolution for this week: If he wants to see me, he can ask me.

Rhiannon's Poem

If you die, I will not dwell,
I'll send my angels straight to hell.
They'll find you with the demons there
and bring you up to heaven's air,

and they'll guard you then, you see,
to keep you for me saf-e-ly.
Then later, when I'm tucked in bed
I'll often think of what you said,

of how I'd cry myself to sleep--
Oh, I am certain I will weep.
But with whispers and with one last kiss
you'll tell me that I shouldn't miss

you, for you're waiting there for me;
and so all things end happily.

Bored/Blizzard

Don and I are back from an evening at Joe's of UpWords and T.V. I'm sick of going over there with Don to play UpWords and watch T.V. I'm bored to death of these evenings. Surreptitous smiles are okay but they aren't much. This whole thing is ridiculous. Here I am taking what little scraps I can get -- a smile here, an hour there. I hate it. It's pointless, it's stupid, it's not even a relationship.

We're digging out from the Blizzard of 2006, as they are calling it. God dumped a bunch of snow on us Wednesday. It's tons of fun to be out playing in it, not so much fun to drive in. Joe's van did fantastic. After they got home yesterday, the guys took me for a ride around the neighborhood in it. It blasted through the snow like a tank.

This is why I let myself love him

Another turning point; a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist; directs you where to go. So make the best of this test and don't ask why. It's not a question but a lesson learned in time. It's something unpredictable but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs and still frames in your mind. Hang it on a shelf In good health and good time. Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial. For what it's worth, it was worth all the while. -Green Day

At night I look up at the stars and I think about all they've seen, whirling away above our heads for thousands and thousands of years. Does it matter, stars, if one girl loves someone not her husband? I wouldn't have done it when the kids were small; I wouldn't have destroyed the family in that way. Don destroyed us but I kept us together. I love Joe because life is short. I love Joe because this love is worth this pain.

Roller Coaster Ride

Lunch at his shop today. Wonderful as usual. Culmination this time, though as usual it took some doing. I feel really full emotionally and it's kind of hard to talk about it, maybe because I've talked about it all so much already. I'm really up or I'm really down; it's a never-ending rollercoaster ride. An exciting rollercoaster ride, which I suppose is why I stay on.

I told him about Jamie flirting with me at the Christmas party. He admitted to jealousy. I told him about being worried I was pregnant. He said he'd be okay with a baby on the way. I'm happy with his responses. Maybe his heart is in it. Maybe he's coming around.

Conversation

He called. I answered. It was a very disappointing phone call. He didn't give me an opening to say my piece, which was "I'm going to do us both a favor and say no. It's been a lot of fun, but it's obvious that your heart just isn't in this." He did say that he couldn't talk to me about anything. I'm probably too naive and unsophisticated in the ways of the world. In other words, I don't know too much about society's dark underbelly -- drugs, cheap sex, fast thrills, what to say and what not to say about these things.

Period

It has come. Right on time. Exactly as scheduled. And what was so weird was that I was sure I was pregnant.

Unhappy

So Wednesday night, I met Don and Joe for UpWords at Joe's place. Don was in the easy chair when I arrived, Joe on the couch. I sat next to him on the couch. Shortly thereafter, when Don got up for a drink, Joe moved to the easy chair. He didn't even say anything. I was shocked and offended and furious. I didn't look at him the rest of visit. I'm still upset. Let's let this whole damn thing be over. Please.

Happy

I tend to mope around because I don't see or talk to Joe as much as I would like to. I decided I should mark on the calendar the times I do see him, because otherwise I forget, and I begin thinking I NEVER see him when actually I do. Turns out I've seen him a whole lot these last two weeks, many times with Don but plenty of times alone, too. So there, things aren't so bad.

I got to be with him for a couple hours Monday. He invited both of us over to watch the game. D was unable to go, being not at home, but said I could go over by myself, bless his trusting little heart. J and I didn't do anything too risky, just made out and talked and got to be together.

I dreamed last night I had a baby boy. He was tiny--I could hold him in one hand--and he had a cut on his temple. If I do have a child, which is doubtful, I would want it to be a boy and would want it to have his last name.

Lovely Weekend

Friday afternoon I went to his shop for some snuggle time. It was very cold so he hooked up a heater for the van then we got naked under a small soft blankie. No culmination as the little soldier no longer functions properly. Friday evening he came to dinner at our house then we went to his for TV and UpWords. I knit and play with the cat and glance at him surreptitously.

Saturday morning at 5:30 a.m. Rhiannon called from South Carolina. We got to talk for five minutes. It seems like a dream. She gets another five minute call at Christmas. D was out all day. I bustled about with domestic tasks then watched Tristan and Isolde by myself. Very much enjoyed it.

Sunday morning D and I met for our standing date in my bedroom. We had just finished when J and his little girl popped over to borrow milk. It was 9:30. "I thought you two were early risers," I heard him say. He invited us to breakfast at his place. Half an hour later we were chowing down on pancakes, sausages, eggs, juice and coffee. It was very cheery with the sunshine pouring in the window, the Disney channel on the TV and us grownups perusing the morning paper. When breakfast was all over, Lauren and I came to my house to play with my McDonald's Happy Meal Barbie set. In the afternoon I ice-skated. My skating continues to improve albeit slowly. In the evening D went to J's to watch the game. I apparently was not invited which is too bad because I had intended to turn down the invitation, as I was feeling jealous and grumpy, but you can't turn down an invitation that you don't receive. Instead, I worked on Kendall's Xmas present (a Gryffindor scarf), wrote to Rhiannon, visited with Michaela and with Kendall, who popped home to get the car. Kendall was sweet. She said she wished she could stay longer but had to go pick up her boyfriend. We hugged and said, "I love you" when she left.

I Miss My Mom

Spiritual Exercises

OceanGuru (who I think is very wise) writes:

Over the years I have found the following exercises to be most helpful:

1) spend ten minutes reliving the ten biggest winning moments in your past. Feel the 'WINNING FEELING" (Maxwell Maltz, PsychoCybernetics

2) Get quiet and think about how you'd feel if you KNEW with no doubt or fear that all your dreams were going to materialize and materialize sooner than you think. Hold that feeling for several minutes every day.

Ovulation Calendar

"You are ovulating between November 24, 2006 and November 26, 2006", says the Ovulation Calculator at womenshealth.gov. November 24 was the day we did it. That was careless of me. I won't be able to do a pregnancy test until a week after December 10, when my next period is due. If it's positive, then mid-February -- 12 weeks -- will be when we can actually talk about it to other people. Stay tuned.

I'm very happy. I'm very worried. And I feel like I've betrayed both Joe and Don.

I Continue In Love

And I always will. I can't stop! What follows is the shocking confession of a married woman about a man not her husband:

The day before Thanksgiving he took me up to Heil Ranch on his motorcycle. It's beautiful up there; we hiked around a bit; also squeezed in some cuddle time. After Thanksgiving dinner with my side of the family, Don and I popped over to Joe's with some Thanksgiving dinner for him. "You should call me tomorrow," I said softly when Don was in the other room. And he did! On Friday we spent several hours together at his place where we got naked, then had lunch and watched Jimmy Neutrino. Saturday night I popped over by myself while on the way back from visiting my daughter Kendall. We had some nice conversation and more making out. Sunday he brought his daughter over to our place and the three of us did puzzles. I spent the day in a happy daze, thinking about how nice it would be to pregnant. Sunday night Don and I went over to his place to watch James Bond and play UpWords. I won again! He was really sweet to me. So I've seen him every day for five days in a row. And it's still not enough. I want him always and everywhere.

I see now how a baby is an expression of love. I never really thought about it with Don. Our babies just happened along and I felt lucky that he tolerated them. It's not like we wanted to build a family as an expression of our love. That's how I feel about Joe, though. I want to have his baby and build a family together as an expression of our love.

Not that having a baby would make any sense. I'm almost 47, my girls are grown up, I've got a career which I want to keep, and I won't be able to stay home with the child. I'm sure there's tons more reasons, including not being married to the guy. But love doesn't make any sense, does it?

I invited him and his little girl over next weekend to make gingerbread houses for Christmas. They might let me come to Worlds of Wonder with them, too. So I have a nice weekend to look forward to. In the meantime, I'm going to concentrate on my work (become the best!) and my spiritual development (meditation, Science of Mind). I'm going to try to think about something besides his smile and his bright eyes every minute of every day the way I usually do.

Marie Antoinette

Went to see MA this weekend, having greatly anticipated it's release since summer. I was tremendously disappointed. It's boring as hell. Pretty to look at, but boring as hell. Several times during the show I was tempted to cut my losses and leave but convinced myself to stay because surely something was about to happen; surely a story would soon emerge from this jumble of random images. It never did.

The film is nothing more than a series of bright and colorful pictures from the life of Marie Antoinette. Oh sure, there was a little rumbling around the edges that things weren't so bright and happy in France but these issues were largely kept out of the movie. The unhappiness of their country scarcely touched them. There was no development of Marie's character, no in-depth look at what she was thinking or feeling. Surely she thought and felt something of depth over the course of her lifetime. The movie ends with the royal couple riding away in their coach. It looked to me like they got safely away. How can you end a movie about Marie Antoinette with her getting safely away?

I'm blogging this from my dashboard widget. So, he called, momentarily. I saw the caller ID, and as I pondered whether to answer, he apparently decided against it. I don't think I can stand by my promise to myself -- to never see or talk to him again.  

Betrayed Secrets

Last week I asked Tarot for a thought on the situation. I drew two cards, an adjective-noun pair. Three of swords - High Priestess said the Tarot: Betrayed Secrets. Uh oh.

I've decided not to go over to Joe's anymore. I can't stand all this endless up-and-down, does he like me/doesn't he, hot and cold that I've been going through. I want it to be over. I'm going to tell Don that I have a crush on Joe and because of that I don't want to see him anymore. That's as far as I'll go with betraying the secret.

I asked Tarot what it thought of my decision. Chariot-Five of Swords, it said. I've been puzzling the meaning. Victorius Conflict? Masculine Conflict, perhaps? That's certainly amusing but it won't stop me from doing what I've decided to do.

Gaining Forgiveness

One way I approach something like this when I am dealing with a person is - I imagine I'm at a beach on the ocean. The ocean waves are smoothly and peacefully coming in and flowing out. I imagine myself coming in from the right side of the picture along the beach. I guess you'd say, 'I enter from stage left' in theater vernacular.

I feel the sand on my bare feet as I slowly walk a ways along the beach with the ocean to my right. When I feel like it I sit down facing the ocean and watch the waves coming and going, easily and peacefully. I get myself in a very quiet and serene mood. Then I see the person I want to talk to coming toward me from my left. They come up to me and sit down to my left side, also facing the ocean.

I tell myself that this is my soul talking with the other person's soul. That we are talking soul to soul. After we are both sitting there for a few minutes and things are peaceful and quiet between us, I open up to the other soul. If I have offended that person, I apologize. If necessary, I explain my position to that other person and tell them why I was upset with them and/or why I did what I did and again apologize to them for offending them if necessary.

Now this is the important part. After I apologize and explain my position I SIT QUIETLY AND WAIT for their response. I DON'T PUT WORDS IN THEIR MOUTH. I WAIT FOR THEM TO SPEAK. Sometimes I hear what they have to say; sometimes not. Either way, I KNOW THAT WHAT I SAID WENT TO THEIR SOUL AND THEY HEARD WHAT I HAD TO SAY.

Sometimes we get into a discussion, sometimes not. But I never say anything for the other person -- I just listen.

After I have said all I needed to say and I feel as if the other soul has said what they have to say, we sit quietly there on the sand watching the ocean waves again.

Then I put a globe around the both of us. Usually a lightly colored golden globe. We are both inside that globe. Then I fill that globe with all the love, light, peace and serenity that I can. We'll sit in that globe filled with light and love until I feel inside that it is enough.

Then I imagine us both moving toward the ocean inside that globe. That globe floats on the ocean for a while and then sinks until we are completely surrounded by the ocean, which is God's Ocean of Love. I imagine the ocean getting a lighter and lighter color of blue until it turns into a white light and both our souls are bathed in that white
light.

When I feel it's time, I open my eyes and forget about it; let it go. I never speak to that person of this experience, but invariably, after a session like this, that person will respond in the outer world completely friendly and warmly towards me. Our dispute has been resolved.

Fullness

I feel so full of joy right now, for all kinds of reasons: because I get to see Joe tonight, because I'll have lunch with him next week, because I'm going to knit Kendall a Gryffindor scarf, because this weekend I am making a long black skirt and going iceskating, because I love playing UpWords, because I just had a hot chocolate, because I am learning the next level of CSS, because I meditate, because I love the Tao, because I have faith in God's universe and everything is going to be okay.

I'm Such a Liar

I could never let it be over. He calls; I come. And I think,"I get to have sex with Joe again!"

Postcard to Her Friend

What you wrote didn't ruin the card, I loved it.

I won't forget.

I loved your family. Heard you're going to Japan! That is awesome! Write me with the details?

Don't forget me.

(heart), Rhiannon

It Continues to Be Over

Don and I went over to Joe's to catch the end of the football game. I thought it would be a nice distraction for me, keeping my mind off Rhiannon's absence. And it was a nice distraction. We channel surfed and played UpWords. I had a good time. I'm so glad it's over, though. I don't want him to call me; I don't want to pick things back up; I want to let them lie peacefully where they are.

Parables

While at the bookstore, Rhiannon made up a little parable that ended, "The little piggie didn't know the dirt." She prompted me to make up one, too. Here's mine:

"They wandered through the bookstore, picking up this book and that, continually looking for the book that had the answers to their questions. They didn't know that only they could write that book."

Update

I've got four more days and three more nights with Rhiannon. She off with the Marines on Sunday night. She'll spend the night in Denver, then early Monday she ships out. Perhaps I'll go watch her swear in. What's weird is that I'm not upset just now. I'm happy. Is it because the meditation practice is working? Or is relaxation a side effect of the cough and cold pill I took this morning?

In other news, I have no desire to see or speak with Joe. None. After four years of obsessively thinking of him it's finally out of my system, driven out by the embarrassment and humiliation of not having my feelings returned.

I don't know where the future will take me, but it will probably be interesting, possibly even adventurous and exciting.

I'm Too Fat!!!!!

Bad news: I'm 6 pounds over my ideal weight. I tipped the scale at 129 pounds at the doctor's today. No wonder my jeans are all so uncomfortable! No wonder I only want to wear stretch pants! No wonder my butt isn't looking any smaller even though I'm working out almost every day! But now I'm getting serious. I'll drop 2 pounds a week for the next three weeks. You'll see. I'll be my old svelt self before you know it.

Valentine

Roses are #990000;
Violets are #0000FF.
All my base
Are belong to you.

The story of All Your Base
All Your Base movie

Today's Lesson: Want What You Have

"Once there was a way to get back homeward" began to play on the radio, and I became overwhelmed with feelings of loss and disappointment. How do you handle it when what you love is gone forever? What do you do when you can never go home? What if you can never get what you want?

I asked Rhiannon about this. She said to want something else. She should know. All her life she's wanted to be an astronaut. She's smart, she's motivated, she's lucky, and even though the competition is intense she could probably do it. She's also colorblind. When she found that out she had to let that dream go.

Here are the steps to learning to want what you have:

(1) Compassion: notice that others want basically the same things you do for the same reasons.
(2) Attention: be aware of what you are doing and feeling, and do it and feel it completely.
(3) Gratitude: practice being thankful for the incredible gifts you currently have.

Truthfulness

Generally I hide my true feelings. It's only anger and difficult situations that inspire me to truthfulness. Provoked by the disappointment with Joe, I had an authentic conversation with Don for once. It was really nice. We actually talked about how we feel about things and what we want in life and we ended up having a real nice day together.

It's Over

Thank God the drama has ended.

Here's what happened: I went over at lunch for some cuddle time. We got naked but he was unable to complete the act. Afterwards we lay in each others arms and talked. I cried a bit at his failing health. "I love you, you know," I said, and asked if he loved me. Pause. Uh oh. Turns out he is infatuated but doesn't have that depth of feeling. So there it is. I truly AM a slut for sleeping with a guy who doesn't love me, and he really IS just a player. No more, though. I can't whore myself out like that any more with a guy who doesn't love me. You know what's even worse? He probably feels sorry for me. Oh God, spare me from that man's pity.

Damn. It costs $200 to get that diaphragm and I haven't even used it.

I'm such an idiot. I ignored the basic advice: if a guy is crazy about you, he finds ways to see you. He calls you. He can't wait to see you again. He puts in the footwork. He works things out. These are basic fundamental rules of male behavior which Joe did not exhibit. I knew he was not working at this but I pushed ahead anyway. And here I am, finding out that the rules are right, the rules can be trusted. Guys don't change. If they love you, they do certain things; things that Joe did not do. I've no one to blame but myself in all this. He did not use me. I used myself. I am now totally embarrassed and ashamed of myself.

Damn. Now it's back to envying roadkill; back to learning to live without him; back to learning to make each day whole and complete in itself, without him.

My song now:
Love hurts, love scars,
Love wounds and mars
Any heart not tough or strong enough
To take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain
Love is like a cloud
It holds a lot of rain.

The meds have arrived!

Hooray, the meds have arrived! Diazepam is indicated for anxiety and sleeplessness, right? So I took one before I went to bed last night in leiu of a sleeping pill. Well, I still couldn't sleep but this time it didn't bother me. I was okay with having insomnia. I guess you can say the pill half worked.

Anti-Anxiety Meds

I ordered diazepam online. Man, I feel better already, just knowing they are on their way. $80 for 30 5-mg pills which I'll split in half, stretching them out for 60 days. That's a good long time and more than enough. I don't need them every day so these should last at least half a year.

Nothing

He didn't call for private time at all this past week. And yea, it hurts. I wish he wanted me. I wish he needed me. I had a lovely spiritual retreat however. I've begun a serious meditation practice as described in Full Catastrophe Living. I'm doing a body scan meditation every morning, breathing at night, and mindfulness all day. I've needed this for a while as my stress levels get pretty high sometimes due to the anxiety of Rhiannon leaving and the pain of piriformis syndrome. I learned an important lesson Saturday evening while Rhiannon and I were drinking chais at Borders Bookstore -- I realized that worry cuts you off from the happiness of the moment. I've been so upset about her going that I haven't been able to enjoy her presence. I stopped worrying immediately upon understanding that. I don't want to be miserable the last two weeks I have with her. I want to be happy. Can I transfer this lesson to my troubles with Joe? I'll try.

Update 1: Joe called while I was typing. We had a longish chatty pleasant conversation. He didn't ask to see me. He asked me to find size 1 swim fins online for his daughter. Nothing about our love or even our friendship. He's a player. He's just playing.

Update 2: I had a Monster Energy drink at lunch and I'm flying. I have a slight headache but the moodiness is gone. Maybe I don't need to see the doctor about that Valium after all. Maybe Monster Energy drinks are all I need. And they are a hellava lot cheaper than a $130 doctor's visit.

Don Suspects

He caught me in a lie, for one, so that wasn't good. I denied the whole thing. One of these days it's gonna blow up in my face. In our faces. Is that what we want? I feel sick.

Went swimming with Joe and his six-year-old daughter on Saturday morn. She had us play a game where Don and I were mer-husband and mer-wife and she was our mer-child. I was totally up for that. She's a perceptive little thing, Joe says. In the evening I went to Joe's alone as Don did not want to go. He was sulking, probably because he knows I prefer Joe to him. Joe and I watched Poseidon naked. Couldn't have done that with Don there. This morning I got fitted for a diaphragm. I think the Instead Softcup would work as well.

I'm not going to call him this week. I'm going to take a break. If he wants to see me he can call me. He might call our house to invite the two of us over in which case I won't go. This week it's private time or nothing.

Nice Things He's Said

• You are a fine looking woman
• You took my breath away when I first met you, and I thought, "I'm in trouble now."
• When you went by, I wanted to fall to my knees and worship.
• My feelings were so intense I couldn't even look at you, much less come and talk to you.

Problem Not Solved

A couple years ago, when we were first flirting with a relationship, I wanted him so badly that I couldn't sleep. I thought that if I got my arms around him the problem would go away. But now here we are, most definitely in a relationship, and it turns out that the days I get to hold him are the ones that l can't sleep. I lie awake all night thinking about all we've done. I hardly slept a wink last night.

I love his body and he loves mine.

Okay, It's Not Over

It is just really different than I expect. I'm over-reacting to perceived indifference.

I think.

Anyway, the most unexpected thing happened: he called up this morning to ask me out to lunch. Apparently he couldn't wait to see me. He said he missed me while I was gone. I went to his shop where we had a wonderful time being physical. I had expected it to be wonderful, but this was REALLY wonderful. And when Bee Gees 'How Deep is Your Love' came on the radio, he said it should be our song. In the evening I went to his place after working out. Again, more wonderful togetherness. I'm floating on a golden cloud.

I don't know what the future will bring. I don't want to think about it. The future scares me. From now on I'm going to try to live in just this moment, nothing else. And this moment I'm very very happy.

I want to stand with you on a mountain
I want to bathe with you in the sea
I want to lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me.

New York!

Rhiannon and I spent the last eight days in Manhattan. What a fantastic place! We stayed in a hostel on the Upper West Side and did all the touristy things -- Staten Island Ferry, Brooklyn Bridge, a Broadway play, Empire State Building, Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Rainbow Room, etc. etc. I didn't want to come home.

New Yorkers are all thin, as it turns out, and their dogs are all small. They live in tiny expensive apartments and spend most of the time walking about the city. There are people everywhere all the time. I loved Central Park and Times Square and the subway and the book stores and the street performers and so on and so on.

It was really hard at first. Our room was so tiny -- just a bunk bed, a dresser and a flickering florescent light. I thought I couldn't possible live there for eight days. I had a huge problem with anxiety at first, but once I learned how to live in the city it was great. I can't wait to go back.

Conversation

I know you're getting sick of this but I'm not so here's more. I kept all my questions and comments lighthearted.

C: So, I need to get that PostSecret book back from you some time.
J: Do you want to come here or get it at home?
C: Oh I don't care. Whichever. *pause* Is your secret that you want to break up with your friend's wife but don't know how to tell her?
J: No! (laughing)
C: Then why don't you call me?
J: I've been really busy. I've been slammed here at work
C: That's such a crappy excuse.
J: I hate the phone. I'm trying to get work done, and it's ringing.
C: Sucks to be you, huh?
J: Not really.
C: Sucks to be one person working alone in an auto shop.
J: Better than working with others, all that mental abuse.

A bit about Don and how he mistreated me at the shop, about how Joe hated to watch it.

He invited the two of us over tonight. I told him no, I was busy getting ready to go to New York for a week. Also could he keep David company, if it's not too weird to ask that. I told him about the nameless fear I had of going. He called it existential.

It was a pleasant conversation, and wonderful to talk to him as always. I think we're back to three-way visiting: Don, Joe and me.

Some Hours are Better than Others

I finally called Sunday evening. He didn't pick up so I left a short message. Now it's Tuesday and still nothing. Guess it's over for sure. I've been dumped. Yes, it hurts.

Here's the thought from Ernest Holmes Science of Mind that's getting me through: "Today is the only day in which we live. We have to live each day as though it were complete and perfect within itself. We have to live each day as though all the joy there is in the universe were ours now."

So I tell myself, "Today is whole and complete within itself." It's hard to imagine that a day can be whole and complete without him; sometimes I'm not sure I can be whole and complete without him. But the words slowly seep into my being. Maybe I'll be okay.

Still Nothing

It's now Friday afternoon. I haven't seen or heard from him since Monday, when I called to see if I could come over. Is it too much to ask that the guy I obsess about also obsess about me? Apparently it is. I can no longer ignore the fact that he doesn't care to see me or to hear my voice. *Sigh.* Well, the month of August was a wonderful month. I got to talk to him, and touch him, and be with him. I loved every minute.

Now it's back to my vow of March 4. No more thinking about Joe.

Qualms

So, Joe and I have begun an affair of sorts. Is it an affair if you aren't going all the way? It seems that the diabetes and smoking are taking their toll -- it's difficult for him to properly perform. Birth control is hardly necessary.

That doesn't bother me as much as the fact that I am the instigator of all our times together. If I don't ask to see him, I won't see him and the affair will fall flat on its face. I think about him but does he think about me? I can't tell.

He's dying, you know

He developed Type 1 diabetes six years ago. He's aging fast, he says. That's okay with me. I said back then that if I couldn't have all of him I'd take a part, and if I couldn't have him healthy I'd take him sick. I still mean it. But now that I have him, I realize how heartbreaking it is to take someone who is sick, someone who is dying before your eyes. I can do it; I want to do it, but I also want to know him while he's still well. I want to have memories of sailing and motorcyle riding and hiking and watching him fix things.

I'm in love with a wonderful guy

"I am in a conventional dither,
with a conventional star in my eye
if you'll excuse an expression I use
I'm in love with a wonderful guy!"

Well, we did it last night, though it took some doing. Today I'm wandering around in a golden haze, as I usually do after spending time with him. Today's worse than usual, though. I had thought that if I finally got my arms around him I'd be able to get some sleep. I wouldn't lay awake at night wanting him. So instead I lay awake thinking about every lovely moment, every word, every look. I don't think I slept last night at all. I don't want to forget any of it. And today I'm saying, "Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God. "

I told him I couldn't live without him

But I bet he's gonna make me.

Motorcycle Ride

Went on that ride and it was heaven. I got to have my arms around him in a non-threatening situation which is exactly what I wanted. The most special moment – he put his hand on mine while it rested on his middle. I was really happy as we zoomed around the hills. Back at the shop, we talked. I told him about my feelings without using the word 'love'. We touched more intimately. I admit we probably went too far at that point. We'll have to back off there, but I hope I can still go on motorcycle rides with him.

I like you, you like me, you need touch, I want to give it. You have to stop thinking in terms of right and wrong and instead think in terms of love and respect. What will be the most loving and respectful solution for the three of us? What can we work out that we are both comfortable with?

Do I tell him I love him?

I've had the best time with him this week – had him over for dinner last weekend, talked on the phone a bit Tuesday (during which he invited me for a ride on his motorbike), dropped in to his place with Don for TV and games Wednesday night, had him over again this weekend for dinner and a movie, and on Sunday he brought his little girl over to play at our house. She and I had some private time which I really enjoyed. This weekend was really nice.

Saturday, we all three (Don, Joe and I) sat in our front room watching World's Fastest Indian, which Joe picked out 'cause he thought I'd like it. I looked at him thinking, I am so hot for you. Afterwards, we went outside to party a little. That's a euphemism for smoke some pot. This was only the fourth time I've ever had it. Neither guy had his pipe so Don very cleverly made one out of a pop can. Joe helped me as I have so little experience. He held the can for me, lit it, and clued me in as to inhaling.

You know what's really weird -- having Joe makes things better with me and Don. Partly because I'm happy; partly because I learn from Joe how to joke and tease, and I bring that into my relationship with Don. I'm hoping for that ride on the motorcycle this week. Do I tell him I love him?

Baby Present

I went shopping at lunch today for a present for Sarah's new baby. He's just a week old. I wasn't sure what to get the little guy. Clothes, toys, baby music, board books -- there are so many choices! And should I get him something he can use now or something he'll grow into? After all, there's lots of cool stuff out there that he can use later. So I got him a pack of cigarettes.

I'm kidding. I got him a bead and wire toy. And boy, is he ever cute. He's probably the most handsome baby I've ever seen.

Dream - House on Fire

I dreamed our house caught on fire. It was over by the dining room window where I have the candles. I first thought that the candles had started the fire, but soon saw that the fire had started inside the wall, not outside. I bashed a hole in the wall with hand-size hammers, Don filled the sink with water, and we used cups and bowls to splash water onto the fire. I got the sledge hammer and smashed a bigger hole, and we used the hose to totally drench it. We put the fire out before the fire department showed up. The fire had started down in the basement. That's where Michaela's room is. I could see the spot where it started. I continued to smash up the house with the sledge hammer, then I woke up.

Joe

I find myself in the unusual state of wanting to be worthy of him. I don't feel nearly pretty enough, or interesting enough, or bold enough, or anything enough.

Besides his bright eyes and 100-watt smile, I really like that we can communicate w/o words. We can use words and gestures sometimes, and that's enough. We understand.

Weird

The weirdest thing just happened -- my 16-year-old called just to talk! And not to ask me for money or a ride or to buy her something! She's upset about her ex-boyfriend and apparently needed to let off some steam about it. I'm totally flattered.

Fallen Hero/Fallen Soldier

On Monday, June 26, 2006, Staff Sgt. Raymond J. Plouhar, 30, died of injuries he suffered while conducting combat operations in Iraq’s volatile Anbar province. Thank you, SS Plouhar, for your sacrifice for the ideals of our country. May you rest in peace.

I'm So Ugly

I hate myself because I'm so ugly. My features aren't so bad but my skin quality is just awful. Every now and then I start to think I'm pretty, but then I see a photo of myself and I realize, 'No.' My love for my husband includes a certain amount of gratitude that he thinks I'm attractive; that he even loves me at all. How silly of me to even think someone else might want me! How silly of me to be all mopey about Joe. Like I'd ever stand a chance with him.

Here's What I Should Have Said

When I saw the candy and the coke:

Could I talk to you a minute? (they go outside)

"The complications of diabetes are really severe. I don't want you to go through all that. You're actually pretty important to me, and you have been for several years now. It's one of life's little ironies, I suppose, that you live on my street and my husband gets to be your friend, and all I get is look up at your window when I drive by. The universe mocks me. "

"Be that as it may, I still need to know that you are okay in there. I want you to be doing well. I want you to be around for a while. I don't want you to be killing yourself with this crap that you are eating. "

I didn't spill my guts like that, though I did take away his candy and his coke, and I said, "Candy bars? Coke? What are you thinking?"

My Lai Massacre

On March 16, 1968, a bunch of American soldiers wiped out hundred of villagers of Son My village. Old men, old women, young wives and children -- all killed. There was a huge outcry, of course, when it all came to light.

Do you ever think what would make a bunch of normal young guys snap like that? Most of our guys aren't crazy psychos.

Here's why -- because in Vietnam you couldn't tell who the enemy was. They looked just like civilians. They dressed just like civilians. After a day of shooting at American soldiers, they'd go home to their villages and pretend to be innocent bystanders. Those old men and old women, maybe they weren't carrying guns, but they knew where their rifle-carrying sons were, and as soon as our soldiers' backs were turned, they knew their boys would come out and kill them.

The same thing is going on in Iraq just now. Sometimes our guys snap and kill innocent civilians. But are they really that innocent? They know where the roadside bombs are planted. They know where the insurgents are. By not saying anything, they become complicent in the things that happen.

What if they tortured us like we torture them?

So, they found the bodies of our two soldiers, Pfc. Thomas Tucker and Pfc Kristian Menchaca. They had been tortured to death, mutilated so badly that it was impossible to visually ID them (probably while alive), and beheaded. I figured it would end this way. Probably the whole world did. But where's the global protest? Where's the outrage?

The things that our soldiers did to detainees at Abu Ghraib don't even come close to what the terrorists did to our guys. Yet THAT was all over the news for months. Thomas and Kristian experienced real torture. Real torture is the death of a thousand cuts. It's having your eyes gouged out, your tongue cut out, the bones of your fingers and hands broken one by one.

Wouldn't it be great if we'd found Thomas and Kristian alive, and they told us 'horror stories' of being made to crawl around naked on all fours, and being forced to stand on a box with a hood over their heads, and not having been allowed to attend church service or have spiritual reading material? Oh, the terrible atrocity of the insurgency, we'd say.

Those bastards. I want those guys taken down. I want us to pour our whole hearts into defeating them. Let the hammer strike, and let it strike hard.

A teenage snake

Yesterday Kendall rescued a snake from the little kitty. I hate the little kitty. She kills the wildlife in our garden. I'd rather have a snake than her. It's a small snake, but not as small as the baby one Little Kitty killed last year. It's like a teenage snake. I didn't let it go right away because it would just become a cat toy again. I built a lovely terrarium for it in the back yard from that large glass case out there. Lotsa dirt and plants. I bought live crickets for it, too. Today I went to Petco and bought a set of plastic nail caps. If I can get them glued on Little Kitty tonight, I'll let the snake go free.

It's Over Now

What do you do when what you love has gone? You had something once, something beautiful and wonderful, but it's gone now and will never return.

It must have been love, but its over now
It must have been good, but I lost it somehow
It must have been love but its over now
from the moment we touched till the time had run out

Like gray-haired Charles remembering Roxaboxen. Like me and Joe on the sailboat. Like my childhood, and my children's chidhood.

It must have been love, but it's over now
It was all that I wanted, now I'm living without
It must have been love, but it's over now
It's where the water flows, it's where the wind blows

Rhiannon has gone to Minnesota to be a camp counselor. In October she'll go to bootcamp, and sometime after that, to active duty. What if she never comes back? How can I live without her?

Here's some good news from Iraq

Reported by Scientific American:

"In the 1990s the Garden of Eden was destroyed. The fertile wetlands between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers were diked and drained, turning most of 15,000 square kilometers of marsh to desert. By the year 2000, less than 10 percent of that swampland--nearly twice as big as Florida's Everglades--remained. But reflooding of some areas since 2003 has produced what some scientists are calling the "miracle of the Mesopotamian marshes"--a return of plants, aquatic life and even rare birds to their ancestral home."

You can't tell from reading the piece who diked and drained the fertile wetlands, or what might have happened in 2003 that made their restoration possible. Weird. You'd think that would be important in understanding the whys and wherefores of land management and restoration in the area. Or is even Scientific American driven by political ideology, such that they can't even bring themselves to say the words?

Media is Naive and Gullible

Here's letter the OpinionJournal received from a U.S. military officer stationed in Iraq. He asked that his name be withheld.

*** QUOTE ***

I am currently stationed here in Iraq and have been here for the past 11 months; I am an adviser to the Iraqis and meet them on a daily basis. I have been in many locations in the country and am involved on a daily basis together with the Iraqis fighting the insurgency.

The media manipulation by the insurgents is brilliant and extremely effective. The press has become a puppet for the insurgents; the insurgents know exactly what they are doing with these "massacres" (quoted here because the investigation has not been completed, nor have any charges been filed) and the political nightmare they will cause the current administration. Bodies are produced for film, and there is zero fact-checking by the media--the media eat up this "news" like there is no tomorrow. A couple of hundred bucks paid by the insurgents to a few guys/ladies in the town where this "massacre" occurred to make up some bad news and pine for the BBC's or CBS's or whoever's cameras is a nice month's salary for many and money well spent by the insurgency.

All the Arabs (Sunni and Shia), Kurds and Chaldeans I have come to know well here will tell you that Arabs are emotional people who tend to exaggerate. A lot. Experience has shown that "50 insurgents hiding out in XX location" is five, at most 10. "Three hundred dead" at the morgue is at most 40. "A huge cache with WMD" is 45-50 weapons. It is a cultural norm and is accepted over here as a norm. It is reported in the West as fact. With no fact-checking.

When we convoy, all in the town/village know when and where there is a bomb/IED/VBIED that is targeting coalition forces. This is not so true in Baghdad, but in the outlying towns all know. What is the culpability for those people in the village/town? Would the Marines be guilty in the U.S. under the same circumstances?

I do not know whether or not the Marines are guilty. A Marine's job is to "close with and destroy the enemy by fire and maneuver," and I can guarantee its effectiveness. But the insurgents have the ear of the press. Hopefully the politics will be put aside for the investigation and the facts will be told, whatever they may be.

*** END QUOTE ***

Piriformis Syndrome - Oh the pain!

My piriformis syndrome / hip bursitis is getting better. Every week the distance I'm able to walk increases. Last weekend I worked in the yard for a couple hours! I feel so encouraged. Maybe sometime in the future I will actually be pain free.

Here's the story on this: Nine months ago I was doing calisthenics in front of the TV when something in my hip went 'pop'. Ever since then I've hurt. As the months went by the pain slowly increased and I became less and less able to get around. Finally my family insisted I see a doctor. The orthopedic surgeon I went to diagnosed piriformis syndrome and said physical therapy should give me 60 to 70% relief of symptoms so off I went. Twelve P/T sessions and over a thousand dollars later there was no improvement. The pain was as bad as ever. People told me that acupuncture often improved pain symptoms -- gets the body's chi in harmony and all that, so I gave that a try. I did four sessions and each one freaked me out. I can't stand the thought of all those needles stuck in me. It didn't hurt but it was really hard to just lie there like a sick porcupine unable to move. I maybe could have 'stuck it out' (hee hee) if it helped, but it didn't, so back to the orthopedic surgeon I went for a cortisone injection. No perceivable result from that either. I tried a Rolfing session. That felt wonderful while it was going on, but afterwards the pain was there just as bad as before. NSAIDs (like ibuprofen and acetominophen) worked just fine to control the pain and let me get some sleep, but I don't want to take those things long term. They are killers in the long term.

While doing research on this problem on the internet, I bumped into a reference to a book, 3 Minutes to a Pain Free Life. The commentator had had good results from the exercises prescribed within. I bought a used copy for five bucks on Amazon. Lo and behold, the exercises are working for me, too. Two exercises specifically are reliving my pain: 1) squatting with toes turned out and 2) the yoga position called The Cobra. I do these several times a day. The author suggests holding them for 30 seconds each, but I hold them for a minute or two. I can feel the muscles and tendons relaxing, stretching, and letting go.

Today's Adventures

Aren't much to write about. I popped in to Whole Foods at lunchtime for a few essentials, came away with a chocolate parfait -- creamy chocolate mouse layered with chocolate cake and berries. Not essential, and not at all conducive to maintaining my girlish figure, but oh so yummy.

I saw a disturbing video on Google Video today. It was of a freshly born baby girl lying naked in her hospital bassinette. She lay there uncovered, shivering, and all alone, while someone filmed her and voices echoed about her. She cried occasionally, and moved convulsively the way babies do, but no one picked her up or comforted her in any way. And all the while someone filmed her. I yelled at the screen, "She needs to be swaddled, you idiots! She needs to be held!" I felt sorry for the poor little thing. The description reads, "The firstborn child of Chris and Isabelle Burkholder demonstrates her newborn skillz as she clutches her blanket, cries out, gets quiet, and actually clasps her tiny hands as if to pray." She's probably praying to be delivered from such a cold, heartless and ignorant family!

Baby Driver

My daughter Michaela has finally got her permit. She drives to school almost every day, with me in the passenger seat yelling, "Oh my God! OH MY GOD!", clutching the hand rest, saying "Take turns at ten miles an hour -- TEN MILES AN HOUR FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!!!!" and stomping stomping stomping the imaginary brake pedal. It's quite a good way to wake up in the morning -- gets the old adrenaline rushing.

The fewer, the prouder, the female Marines

Rhiannon did it. She signed with the Marines yesterday.

She's got a deferred deployment, as she was already committed to her summer job as a camp counselor at Camp Courage, a camp for disabled and terminally ill kids. She worked there last year, too.

So, her schedule from here on is:

1) next couple weeks: finish semester (mostly A's, I'm happy to report)
2) end of May: visit friends in Texas
3) summer: Camp Courage, Minnesota
4) September: New York with Mom for a send-off vacation
5) October: Marine Corp Recruit Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina!!!

Rice Krispie Treat

I had to dig something out of my very full trash can, so I borrowed my co-worker's so I'd have someplace to put my trash as I dug. He didn't have much in there, just a few napkins and a nice thick Rice Krispie treat, wrapped in Saran Wrap. I took it out and ate it.

No Miscarriage After All

Good news: Baby and mother fine so far. Placenta is blocking uterus, which in the long term is not good (can't go through labor with it like that) but there's a good chance the thing will migrate in the course of the pregnancy so all will be well. Mother reports that baby is now the size of a jumbo shrimp.

Possible Miscarriage

My sister just called, to inform me that our sister Ramona, who is 12 weeks pregnant, is experiencing bleeding. Ramona will go for an ultra sound today to see what's going on. They really want this baby.

Our smelly visitor

A good friend of my daughter's has been staying with us the past few days. She's a great person, but she smells. She smells like she's got a yeast infection. I'm glad I'm not the one spending lots of time with her.

I made a vow

I will not try to see Joe.
I will not go out of my way to see Joe.
I will not think about seeing Joe.

Today -- again -- he didn't come over to say hello. He walked right past. I don't know what it is going to take, girl, to convince you.

He forgets me.
He doesn't want to see me.
He doesn't want to talk to me.

Today, March 4, is my new anniversary.

Success

At age 04 success is ... not peeing in your pants.
At age 12 success is ... having friends.
At age 16 success is ... having a drivers license.
At age 35 success is ... having money.
At age 50 success is ... having money.
At age 70 success is ... having a drivers license.
At age 75 success is ... having friends.
At age 80 success is ... not peeing in your pants.