Accusation

We went down to the family room for an early dinner. When we leaned together to kiss, I was shocked to smell pussy, and so I said, "You totally smell like pussy." He said maybe it was his armpits; he hadn't showered yet. Come on -- BO doesn't smell like 'down there' plus it was his face I was next to, not his pits. It couldn't have been the chicken, could it? And remember the other day when I saw hair comb in his van? Do I ask him if he's been cheating on me? And then do I believe him if he says no? An accusation of infidelity is the same as a judgment of guilty. I believe he would, if it were easy. And so many girls make it easy.

Oh look, he's calling. I've already decided I won't pick up. There, he didn't leave a message. That's probably the last time he'll call. He's not one to grovel.

Pictures are running through my head -- his face between her legs; her sitting in the passenger seat laughing. She wants the same thing I want -- connection.

Shania Twain's "Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?" is helping me 'cause it asks the questions I'm thinking without being maudlin and sad. "Whose bed have your boots been under, and whose heart did you steal I wonder? This time did it feel like thunder, baby. Who do you run to? Whose lips have you been kissing, and whose ear did you make a wish in? Is she the one that you've been missing, baby.

He called again. And then again. I picked up on the third time. "Are you mad at me?" he asked. "Is it because of American Gladiators?" So I asked if he had another girl on the side, and we talked about it. He said no. He said he couldn't believe I'd think that. Then he said he'd love to cuddle with American Gladiator's Helga. So that wasn't much of a help. No 'I love only you forever.'

I hate wanting him so much; I hate needing him so much. I want to take a break. I'd rather break up than ask him to be different.

Yet Another DKA Incident

He kept his sugar a bit on the high side these last two weeks so as not to risk passing out again. This lead to another bout of Diabetic Ketoacidosis on Saturday. He was throwing up and hiccupping all night Saturday. We recognized it right away for what it was and were able to self-treat rather than going to the emergency room. Last year we had no idea and so wasted two days being sick. This time we started extra insulin right away. I slept downstairs and got up every hour or so to sit with him. It was difficult to keep him hydrated because he'd throw it right back up. The vomiting subsided Sunday morning, and the hiccupping stopped a few hours later.

Narcissus in The Alchemist

I've begun listening to The Alchemist by Paul Coehlo, but don't know if I'll be able to get further than the opening bit. It begins with some body called the alchemist who picks up a book and reads a story about Narcissus who loved to gaze upon his own beauty reflected in the lake. One day he fell in and drowned. The lake turned to salty tears after his death. Turns out the lake had been doing the same thing back at Narcissus -- contemplating its beauty reflected in his eyes. The alchemist thought this was a lovely story, whereas it turns my stomach. The lake did not love or mourn for Narcissus, or even regret the part that it had played in his death. The lake mourned the loss of its mirror. So we've got two selfish people here, who love not the person before them, but what they see in the lover's eyes.

Maybe it's just a bit too close to home for me.

One Year Later, Another Diabetic Incident

Low blood sugar this time. It was July 24, 2007, that Joe went to the ER with Diabetic Ketoacidosis. He has been getting all nervous because the first anniversary of his hospitalization is approaching. How silly and superstitious, I thought. The anniversary of an illness doesn't mean anything. Silly me. The hospital ER just called. Joe was found passed out near the bathroom of his shop. He had apparently had a low blood sugar incident.

Later: He wasn't passed out. He was lying in a pool of blood, conscious but unresponsive, his forehead gashed in several places. Jason from The Carriage Shop found him, and brought Jim King and Mark Cervelli from Wolfsburg Autowerks, who called 911. The paramedics gave him glucose which brought him out of the diabetic shock. He was much better by the time they got him to the emergency room, such that he was able to give them my name and number. The paramedics told me his blood sugar was zero.

Monday Report

Starbucks scares me as there are so many choices. However, after careful research, I was able to successfully make my first personalized Starbucks order -- tall whole milk cafe mocha with peppermint. At lunch, made a trip to Bookworm Used Books. Made 30 bucks in trade credit; bought an iPod/iTunes how-to.

Weekend Report

An excellent weekend, sunny and happy. Let's see... It started Thursday, I suppose, when he picked me up from the company picnic on his motorcycle. He came roaring up; I said, My ride's here" to gasps of general astonishment. Felicia said, "You have a hot boyfriend!" I did get to have my arms around him on the ride home but no more than that. I hadn't been alone with Joe all week so I got pretty grumpy as the evening wore on. Finally on Friday night we were able to get some time to ourselves.

Saturday morning was the annual BVSD book sale, in which the local school district makes its discards available to whoever wants to haul them away. I got three boxes, including some books on herbs and a children's book called "Nobody Knows I Have Delicate Toes" which I gave to Joe. Private joke. I puttered around on Saturday, walking the dogs and getting some shopping done. We three watched "Blood Simple", the Coen Brother's first movie, in the evening. Joe and I got some more time together.

Sunday morning is scheduled for Don and me. I had to convince him. Didn't really want to, but I do want to do my duty and keep him from being too grumpy or suspicious of me and Joe. Sunday afternoon my sister Maria called to ask if having a dog was good for depression. I told her that a dog is a little chid who needs to be trained and taken care of, so not really recommended. Not by me, anyway. She's having some spiritual and emotional difficulties. We're going to the library Monday to find books to help encourage her. Sunday evening I went down to Anne Marie's place, where Dad and Anne and I watched Generation Kill. I loved it. Sunday night Joe and I went out on the trampoline to talk and look at the moon. He said, "I'm here on the tramp with Charity" as though he could hardly believe it was happening. That's just how I feel all the time. More intimate time followed, this one really nice 'cause we got some pillow talk in afterward.

Mrs. Rhiannon in town

What did we do? We kept ourselves busy with small things, just like in the old days -- talking, walking dogs, playing the computer, reading books and watching movies.

Saturday: airport
Sunday: Rose and David went to coin show in Colo Springs
Monday: Birthday dinner at Uncle Richards
Tuesday: swimming with Aunt Jean, Aunt Teresa and all the cousins
Wednesday: ?
Thursday: she spent most of day with Grandpa, later we went to Borders Bookstore
Friday: Hobby Lobby and Borders Bookstore with Michaela; assembled scrapbook decorations
Saturday: airport

He's like a god

Isn't that horribly corny? But it's true. It's like he's carved out of marble. And you know what? I'm no longer jealous of the girls he had before me. They were very lucky to be in his arms. I hope they knew it.

I realize that this blog has degenerated into posts about Joe, Joe and more Joe. I'll try to be better; try to talk more about the other cool things I do. It's just that he fills so much of my head and heart and (admit it) my time. I'm like a teenager again; I'm just another girl who "lives but in her lord." (Dorothy Parker)

He was a little snide again on the phone. Something was bothering him. He 'fessed up to it right away this time: he doesn't like to share me -- not with my kids, not with my dogs, not with another man. I'm so glad he feels that way. I love him so much. I wish I could tell his parents how wonderful I think he is.

No one writes songs about the ones that come easy

He called me up Friday morning and insulted me in various ways. I called him on it, but we weren't able to get to the root of his moodiness just then. I was sooo angry about being treated that way. All weekend I jumped on him immediately at the slightest insult. And he was always very nice to me after I slapped him down.

I've already got a man that can't handle stress. I don't need another guy who takes his problems out on me. I was ready to call the whole thing off. I still am. I don't want a half-hearted love affair. I want a passionate epic affair. I want an affair that that spans years and continents, that transcends time and space. No one writes songs about the ones that come easy.

I know why he behaved that way on Friday. Thursday evening I had told him about the nice things a co-worker had said to me that day. He thought the comments were too familiar and was pretty jealous.

So maybe we are on our way. Maybe you can't have epic without some of the rougher emotions, too.

I want that jackpot

Intimate three nights in a row last week. Haven't had a chance this week. I want that.

I love Jim Bohannon of Boulder, Colorado.

Man I love my boyfriend

I love him SOOOO much! We had a great weekend. His daughter was out of town all weekend and when that happens he spends the day with me. We explored the country roads north of here on his motorcycle and found a cool little off-road spot. His bike is a bit too large for off-roading but we had fun anyway. We set his vintage canvas tent up in the backyard for Kendall and her SO.

What a complainer

Just got a ride in to town with Joe. He's good at talking, mostly about himself, along with complaints about the other drivers and whatever's in the news. He spoke disparagingly of the army's new ray gun. He thinks the U.S. military can be used against American citizens. He probably believes the White House was behind 9/11 and the Katrina mess, too. It wasn't pleasant and I was happy when the ride was over.

Maybe it's all a matter of learning to live with a person. What if I had said, "Will you please stop complaining?" It might have made a difference.

We had a nice evening which included some very sweet intimate time.

Rhiannon got married

And what a beautiful bride.

The trip was mildly horrible as is any trip with Don. I'm ready to ask for a divorce. Why travel with a person who makes travel miserable? He was happiest when he got back home and got to talk to Joe. Don was positively animated -- I never see him that way except when he's with someone else. The two of them sat on the couch and toked up while I brought in all the bags from the car. (To be fair, Joe asked if I needed help. I said no.)

At home I'm feeling completely beleaguered and overwhelmed. Michaela lives at home of course, as do Kendall and her boyfriend Xach, having been burned out of their apartment. The place is bursting at the seams. K and X sleep in my room. I sleep in one of the rooms I rent out to Joe. I am not allowed to let my dogs come in. Kendall and Xach are having a tough time finding a place for the summer so they have asked if they can live in a tent in the backyard.

I'm ready to cut it off with Joe. I've enjoyed loving him though the enjoyment has always been offset by pain. It's reached the point where the pleasure no longer makes up for the trouble.

Kendall and the Apartment Fire

Kendall's apartment building caught on fire in the middle of the night a few days ago. She and her roommate were awakened by shouts and pounding on the door. They had time to put on shoes and coats, then grabbed their backpacks and their two cats. They sat out on the lawn with all the other people, holding their cats on their laps and watching the firemen. They couldn't get their car from the parking lot because it was blocked by fire equipment.

So now they are bunking at our home. We're all waiting for the asbestos tests to come back. If the apartment was contaminated everything in it will be condemned -- the new mountain bike, Kendall's paintings, the college textbooks, clothes, mattress, TV, dishes, couch, dining table, etc., etc.

A teeny-tiny upside: Kendall and Xach are sleeping in my queen-size bed, and I'm in a single bed in the basement guest room. It's right next to Joe's room. He came in for a cuddle last night, told me I was so beautiful and that he loved me.

This is too hard

And so I want to quit. It's just too ridiculous that Don is all over him all even, with me all over him all night. It's ludicrous. I don't want any part of it any more. Also it's just too painful. I want something I'm probably not ever going to have. I'm tired of waiting.

The three of us went hiking on Sunday to Eldorado Canyon. It was lovely. It was also very difficult. I hated pretty much every minute. I can't have a good time when I'm with both of them. It's hard not to notice that Don is a ball-less wimp when he's next to Joe. The only thing he's got the guts for is to yell at me. It infuriates me that he will go spend time in the outdoors with his male friends, but he never would with me and the children. Joe and Don have a good time together. I can't compete. I want out.

Not that it's not painful to be alone. It is. I feel again like I felt long ago -- every breath hurts. Somehow I have to get through the day, and then through the week, and after that the rest of the year.

If he loved me, he would...

1. Want to talk to me.
2. Want to be with me.
3. Listen to me talk every now and then.
4. Be jealous of my husband.
5. Be nice to me.

Are these beliefs true? Can I absolutely know they are true?
He does all of them but #4.

I've got the Loader Lounger!

Not just one, either -- I've got three. They look lovely grouped with several flowering hibiscus trees in my Flower Room.

Webkinz Ancient Theme

I've bought a tiny room which I will decorate with this theme. So far I've got the wallpaper, a trophy pedestal and a brazier.

How do you talk about it?

How do you say you want sex? I don't think either of us knows how to.

"The purple brings out the blue of your eyes"

I caught a pop-fly with my face at Thursday's softball game and went down like a ton of bricks though I didn't lose consciousness. The first thing I said was "That was so easy! How could I miss that?" I continued on in that vein ("I let that hit me in the face!" "How could anyone be so pathetic?" etc.), never asking about my injuries which really impressed my teammates. I lay there in the infield surrounded by worried teammates while EMTs from the other team applied pressure and ice packs. The cuts on my face didn't bleed too badly, but they didn't stop, either. They bled from time of impact until being stitched up an hour and a half later. My nosebleed poured down the back of my throat rather than out the front, a good thing since blood is so upsetting. We forfeited the game and they took me to the emergency room where the doctor put in 15 teeny tiny stitches. Joe and I had planned some private time after the game which we went ahead with even though it was pretty late and I was black and blue. Today a coworker said that the purple brings out the blue of my eyes so it's plum shadow for me from now on!

Are you mad at me?

Yes, because of what you said yesterday about my dog.

He was jealous of the new dog because it's taking all my time. That's not exactly true -- while it does take a lot of time, it's not time away from Joe. it's time away from time I used to spend working out, doing yoga and playing with my first dog.

Ask someone who cares

Bandit, my new blue heeler, spent the day at the veterinarian's yesterday. He got neutered, had blood work to check for heart worms, and had a microchip implanted. Poor puppy! He was very glad to come home. He's spending the day in his cage today as he is not supposed to run around.

The microchip people wanted an alternate contact in case Bandit was lost and they couldn't get ahold of me. I asked Joe if he would do it. He said I should ask someone who cares. Maybe he was joking, but it really hurts. I guess I'm a "love me, love my dogs" person.

Oh look, he's calling me. I'm not going to pick up. I'll maybe call him back this afternoon. Or never. This relationship has been a lot of trouble. It hurts. I hate being as needy as I've been. Plus it's not like I can talk to him. Okay, I admit -- I can't talk to anybody. My self-esteem is too low. But a girl can dream, can't she? She can wish for a boyfriend she can talk to, even though that dream won't ever come true.

Evaluations today at work. I hate this time of year because I think I suck at my job.

Webkinz Rare Item: Legionnaire Armor

I'm one of those nutty grown-ups that plays Webkinz. I've got a little koala named Ukie, who lives in a little house of nine rooms and three yards. Today's rare item is Legionnaire Armor for 7100 Kinz Cash. Ukie's only got 2600 so the he won't be purchasing the rare item today.

Kendall's 21!

On April 6. She and her boyfriend Xach came over for a family party. I made a Black Forest cake for her, and inundated her with silly gifts, though I forgot the most important one -- a Tequila Sunrise.

I love

That's all I can think sometimes. I love, I love, I love. It's an inferno, a storm, a typhoon that destroys all I am. To touch him is bliss. To want him is torture. To love him is pain.

Today

Today I'm wearing wide cut blue jeans, black T and black overshirt.

Bandit Blue is progressing well in car training. He no longer flattens himself on the pavement when I open the car door. Instead he approaches it, looking for his treat. Today I put them even farther back on the seat so he had to put his front feet up on the seat in order to reach them. Dice sits inside. I throw her a treat, then put one up for Blue.

Today as they drove down the street, Michaela's boyfriend Jimmy threw open the passenger door of her car and jumped out. He was angry that she had flirted with another guy. He got pretty scraped up and his leg got run over, too. Too bad it wasn't his head. He's okay, apparently, but the car is definitely the worse for wear. He used such force on the door that he dislodged the hinge. Now the door sticks out like a broken wing.

Is it true? Doing the Work

Here's some inquiry that I need to do:
Joe makes me feel cheap. Is it true?
Joe intends to make me feel cheap. Is it true?
Joe should love me wholeheartedly. Is it true?
Joe does not love me wholeheartedly. Is it true?

I feel them, and I get angry and melancholy, but I don't think they are true.

An interesting way to get rid of me

Joe and I were in the middle of an intimate moment last night when he got up, put on his robe and left the room. I lay there for a bit, puzzled as to what to do, then dressed and went upstairs to find him serving himself some ice cream. "I think my blood sugar is low," he said. "Good night." He patted my shoulder as he went back downstairs. And that was that.

Bad thing number two: Our new puppy bolted out the door as I left for work. It took a bit of a while to get him back in. He did not want to come; he twisted and clawed and bit at my hand as I held his collar which broke at the fastener. Somehow I managed to entice him in; I don't even remember how. I do remember being furious and stomping around the house yelling while he lay cautiously under the table. I threatened to take him to the Humane Society where he should have been anyway.

I'm getting a dog

My sister can't handle her blue heeler puppy. He's the sweetest little thing but she's got a ton of kids herself and he's way too high energy for every one. She called me as she was about to take him to the Dumb Friends League. I said I'd take him. He'll be crated in the front room when I get home. The menfolk think it's a very bad idea.

He's really sweet to me, but ...

but I still have a hard time with it all. I didn't want to come back from North Carolina, for example, just because of the emotional roller-coaster that this relationship is. It's not really his fault; it's because I'm a crazy girlfriend. It's because I take offense where none is intended. It's because I love him so much and am not sure how much he loves me. He's really sweet to me, though. He stays up talking to me. He calls me from work. He hangs around in the front room so I'll bump into him. He says my name. He tells me stories, maybe because then I can admire him and how brave he's been, maybe because he likes the sound of his own voice.

The True Love

by David Whyte

There's a faith in loving fiercely the one who is rightfully yours especially if you have waited years and especially if part of you never believed you could deserve this loved and beckoning hand held out to you this way.

I am thinking of faith now and the testaments of loneliness and what we feel we are worthy of in this world. Years ago in the Hebrides I remember an old man who would walk every morning on the gray stones to the shore of baying seals, who would press his hat to his chest in the blustering salt wind and say his prayer to the turbulent Jesus hidden in the waters.

And I think of the story of the storm and the people waking and seeing the distant, yet familiar figure, far across the water calling to them. And how we are all preparing for that abrupt waking and that calling and that moment when we have to say yes! Except it will not come so grandly, so biblically, but more subtly, and intimately in the face of the one you know you have to love.

So that when we finally step out of the boat toward them we find everything holds us, and everything confirms our courage.

And if you wanted to drown, you could, but you don't, because finally, after all this struggle and all these years, you don't want to anymore. You've simply had enough of drowning and you want to live, and you want to love.

And you'll walk across any territory, and any darkness, however fluid, and however dangerous to take the one hand and the one life, you know belongs in yours.

I love my boyfriend

He came up this morning for a cuddle; things ended up going pretty far. It's just so nice to touch him I can't help it! And he called me once we were both at work! This feels soooo good.

Motorcycle Riding

Joe took me out on the back roads north of Boulder yesterday. It was a lovely sunny day. We saw a coyote, and fires, and satellite dishes. We stopped to say hi to Carol, a friend of his who was walking along the road with a girlfriend.

Then he called me today, twice. He told Don that we'd been out riding so now Don knows I wasn't forthright with him. He told me Carol was an old girlfriend and he'd had her out riding on the motorcycle too.

Now I'm really unhappy. There's NOTHING that is special to me and him, nothing that he's done only with me. Everybody else has been there first. Every cool thing, every special thing, every intimate thing that we have done, he has already done with someone else.

And vice versa, I suppose. Snap out of it, Charity. I swear, you LOVE being melancholy and making yourself miserable.

My Aunt Jane died

Aunt Jane passed away on Leap Year Day. Her body had started reacting very negatively to the chemotherapy, so the doctors took her off it. She went downhill quickly, but experienced no pain and died quietly with three of her four sons around her. The fourth, David, was delayed by blizzard.

I had a wonderful time. I reconnected a little with my cousins; I met Eric's wife Karen, David's wife Pam, Danny's wife Lori and Alan's SO Tristan. Tears came easily at the viewing and the funeral.

I didn't want to come home. It's too complex here at home. They were both very happy I was back; both told me they were glad to have me home. It was Joe that took me to his bedroom for cuddle time before I left, Joe who came up at 4:30 a.m. to say good-bye, and Joe that I had Welcome Home sex with.

Leap Year Day: St. Bridget's Complaint

February 29 is traditionally the day that women can propose to men. Apparently this tradition started in 5th century Ireland when St. Bridget complained to St. Patrick about women having to wait for so long for a man to propose. According to legend, St. Patrick said the yearning females could propose on this one day in February during the leap year. Sometimes today is called Sadie Hawkins Day, though that's not actually correct.

A couple weeks ago I told Joe this little factoid and teased him to watch out for today. I guess he liked that because he remembered. Today when he rang up he mentioned that it was Sadie Hawkins Day. I wonder if he wants me to propose. I'm afraid to. It's too intense. I'll cry.

Besides, even if he said yes, it would all be pretend anyway. It's not like we can really get married.

I can die now

I was thinking how nice life has been, how much I've enjoyed it and how lucky I've been. I'm lucky because I am a mom and I love Joe. I've also traveled a little, ridden horses, been sailing and ice skating and skiing, played softball, been loved by a dog, and on and on. Life has been wonderful, and if it should happen that it is over soon, it would be all right.

Weekend Report

Tons of fun this weekend that I want to chronicle:

First, babysitting with sleepover at my sister's. All the kids were there except the three littlest -- from Emily, 16, to David, 4, makes eight. It was frightfully easy and fun. We played UpWords, watched Peter Pan, and generally goofed around. Tommy, 15, is going goth -- all black, with black hat and black fingerless safety-pinned gloves. I think it's cool. Next day I took them all to Cinema Savers for Enchanted and National Treasure. When the other babysitter arrived I was free to go, so I went shopping! Found a few nice things at the Goodwill and ARC thrift stores.

Joe was soooo happy to see me when I got home. He said he missed me so much. That evening we three watched Fido, the most hilarious and campy movie about zombies. Don went to bed which gave Joe and I opportunity for intimate time together. He said he had wanted to 'self-stimulate' that afternoon, but told himself, "No, Joe, Charity needs that." And it's true. I do need it. I want it and I need it. Sunday morning is intimate time for Don and me, after which he went to work and Joe took me go-carting at an excellent motocross place along I-25 that rents go-carts too. Then dinner, another movie, and more cuddling for J and me. We tell each other "I love you" on a regular basis.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I love my boyfriend and he loves me. He tells me so.

Keyboard + Crumbs = Broken

One by one the important buttons on my keyboard stopped working till the thing barely worked at all. When Kevin heard of my plight he went to the sys admin and got me a new one. It's great! The keys on the right hand side work again! So today I dropped the first crumb down inside ....

Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure

Can you sum up your life in six words? I've taken a couple stabs at it:

Jimbo's Wild Ride: I'll come too.

Wasted time being angry; no more.

I love being my kids' mom.

I've always been scared of people.

"Are you happy?"

"Ecstatic. I feel like a kid again."

I cry after yoga class

I've been doing yoga on my own out of a book for more than a year, 15 minutes of work twice a day. A few months ago I joined a real yoga class and am noticing something -- after an hour of work I get fairly emotional. I find myself crying at the end of class.

I'm So Sleepy

Shortly after I got up Saturday morning I went back to bed. I slept most of Saturday, Sunday and Monday. It's Tuesday now. I'm at work but I wish I were sleeping. Nothing's wrong except that I'm sooooo tired. Joe has made some good guesses: maybe I'm pregnant, or maybe I'm depressed. Being pregnant would be the stupidest thing I could possibly do, but I'd be happy anyway. Being depressed is more likely. I AM sad. I'm sad that I'm not married to Joe. That sadness is pervading my entire view of my world and my life. It all seems pointless. I've got nothing to work on and nowhere to go. Life seems bleak and dull again, just like it was when I didn't have him at all. I had to learn to be happy then and maybe I can learn to be happy now.

Please come to a white paging telephone

Daniel Michael Miller II, 24, of Akron, Ohio, had his name legally changed to "The" Dan Miller Experience. His first name is "The" Dan (note the quotation marks please). Mr. Experience, a musician and rapper, says, "I like to do little things in my life that amuse me. This amuses me."

"What would you be?" I asked my boyfriend. He'd be Jimbo's Wild Ride. And I'd be Catherine St. Catherine. Maybe it's our tremendous differences that are what we like about each other. I wouldn't want him to be Joseph St. Joseph, that's for sure. And yet weirdly, deep down we are the same, in a way I can't explain, in a way that Don and I have never been.

American Gladiator

Joe is very happy that American Gladiator is back on after a many-year hiatus.
"You'll watch it with me?" he asked, and I promised I would, not realizing that he would be exclaiming over the fine bodies of the women gladiators. It was a little hard to take. Don has never ever done that so it was a new experience for me. After half an hour I took my knitting upstairs and watched "The Devil Wears Prada" instead.
I had a good think about it and came to some conclusions:
1) When you are in a relationship you can't be doing things that really bother your partner. You give up some freedoms for the pleasure of congenial chats, home-cooking, late-night massages and frequent sex.
2) Goggling other women is a deal-breaker for me. I can't be with a guy who comments on the hotness of other girls while I'm standing next to him.
3) It's wrong to be mad at him without telling him why.
Thankfully we had some time together later. "I just can't watch you salivate over other girls," I said as we settled in on the couch to cuddle.
"They are so hot," he said, "and it would be pretty fine to have them do that to me."
What an idiot. I immediately got up, went upstairs and went to bed.
Next morning he apologized. "I'm sorry, doll," he said. And "This is kind of like being married" and "I think you don't know how hot you are."
He pegged that, didn't he? I was upset because of my insecurities. But hey, I may have a good figure but it's nowhere as good as the female gladiators.

Staying Busy

It is SO NICE to be busy. It gives me a break from thinking about him. He was not in my thoughts for two whole hours just now. Whew!

Christmas plans are whirring up. With just a few days to go I'm finally getting in the mood to buy things and to make sure everyone has something fun to unwrap.

I was nervous yesterday, even fearful, about seeing him after his big admission, so I breathed into the feeling until it dissipated. "Breathing into" whatever I am feeling has been a huge huge help. I'm learning to just be.

"Me too you" I said this morning when he said "love you."

He Said It

We finished Brokeback Mountain last night. It's a movie about us -- obsessive love that can't come out in the open. Neither of us said that but I think we both noticed it. Then I rubbed his back till he fell asleep. Next morning we chatted about the characters, me sitting sleepily in the arm chair by the front door, him putting his boots on. Then "Bye," he said, "I love you." "Whaaaat?" I said in an incredulous tone. So he came over and said it again.

And then he left.

An Excellent Weekend

I was a little moody as the weekend approached, thinking about how he disappeared for three months this time last year, so I thought I'd just stay away from him as much as possible. Friday night was good: I worked on financial matters, then Rhiannon called. We chatted for quite a long time which forced me to stick to my resolution. On Saturday I got a lot done both around the house and on errands -- it was beautiful outside with the sun shining on the snow. I was gone so long that I felt contrite when I returned so I sought him out. We spent some nice time together in the late afternoon, talking while I rubbed his back. Saturday night Don and I went to Don's company Christmas party. I love going to those! I've known those folks for 15-20 years and it is so nice to catch up with them. I was anxious to see Joe again on our return, and he apparently felt the same way. He came up to see me after Don hit the hay and we stayed up till 1:30 a.m. talking and cuddling in the guest room. On Sunday my nieces and I decorated Grandpa's Christmas tree. Back at home, Joe made dinner then he and I played Scrabble and watched part of Brokeback Mountain.

I Love You

He mouthed this last week when I was touching him with my very cold hands. And yesterday he almost gave me the American Sign Language signal for "I Love You" -- though he came to his senses at the last minute and changed his fingers.

I'm angry. Why is it taking so long to say? And why now? Why not last August? Why not last year? Remember this time last year: In November I thought I was pregnant; in December I told him I loved him; in January he disappeared for three months.

I'm angry at myself for being such a wuss and for spending so much time loving someone who hasn't loved back.

Pet Names for My Lover

I've been musing over a loverly name for my new boyfriend. Don and I call each other 'darling' except when we're angry; then we use first names. Joe calls me 'sweetheart' or by my first name, which I really like. I like using his first name, too, except that it's so short. The syllable is over before it's even begun. He likes it when I call him 'Boy' so I'll use that, plus add miscellaneous syllables to his name stretch it out and add meaning: J-boy, J-beau, J-dear, J-daddy. And the occasional 'sweetie pie' and 'sweetheart.'

Something to Say

For the past 47 years I have not had anyone to discuss my day with -- not when I was a child, not when I was married. But now I do! Now I have to remember funny stories from my day, things I thought about, and snippets of news articles I read. I'm not at all used to it, but it makes a nice change. Today I'll talk about the student who writes for our web publication. He's a senior and an English major but that doesn't mean he can write -- journalism is significantly different than creative writing. And there's that couple in Croatia who painted their house white with black spots as a memorial to their beloved Dalmatian who was hit by car. And police are looking for a "Cinderella burglar" -- he left his shoe behind as he made his escape. It's nice to have someone at home who wants to make light conversation. Don has been absorbed in his own concerns for so many years that I just don't think of him as being available.

Offroad Adventures

J wants to buy a new truck, a Suzuki Sidekick that he can take off-roading.

I'm really upset about it because that vehicle is a concrete symbol that he's not mine, that before we met he had an exciting and adventurous life and that he continues to do exciting things that I can't be part of. The only time he's gonna use that car is when he goes camping with his ex and their daughter. I am never going to be able to go off-roading with him. Yes, I'm jealous. I'm jealous of every girl he's ever had, jealous of every adventure he's ever gone on, jealous of everything he's ever done or is going to do without me.

So you see I have become the crazy girlfriend.

On the upside, he looks at me with intensity and says nice things to me.

Appreciation

"Ciao, bella" he said before he left the house, and he asked for his good-bye hug. Apparently he's felt the strain in the relationship; it bothered him enough to make him call after he got to work, to say how much he appreciates me, and thank me for the hug, and ask if there was anything he needed to do differently. I told him part of the truth: that I enjoyed having him around and wouldn't want to change that. It's true--I wouldn't want him to leave even though it is difficult at times. I haven't changed my resolution to keep him at arm's length, though. I intend to try yet again to live by the tenets of "The Technique of the Love Affair." I still need peace; I still want my life back.

Later: back at home, I said, "Tell me again what you called to tell me." He said, "I called to tell you I love you very much." "Seriously...," I said. He started to come over and we would have had a very special moment except the window shades were all open and we might have been interrupted.

A Happy Day At Last

Today turned out to be a good day. I managed to get out of the house w/o giving Joe the customary hug, so that was good. I was mopey and weepy all morning as I reflected on how every conversation about 'us' ends the same: he says he has no feelings for me. I've been obsessed with him for seven years. I'm ready to admit that it's all been wasted. I'm ready to have my life back. My mood improved tremendously in the afternoon by virtue of some very enjoyable conversations with co-workers (Bryan and I were laughing so hard!) and some excellent productive work in a few web sites I'm working on (my jQuery work is coming along nicely). I love this job. Oh, and Michaela called to invite me to spend money on her. We're going shopping on Saturday. It's great to be a mom!

Disheartening

Always and forever will be.

"I had the odd sensation this morning of feeling like I was being unfaithful."
"I wish you wouldn't. I have a warm feeling about you two. Do you wish I felt more possessive? I am like Buddha, practicing non-attachment."

So now there's a hollow space.
I'm breathing into it and letting it be.

Yes I wish he felt more possessive. After all that giggling together, too, and reading the paper together, and massage, and hugs, and snuggles, and smiling at me, and coming up to see what I was doing, and "How did you get to be so sweet?" -- after all that he tells me he's "non-attached."

A Golden Cloud of Happiness

I'm floating on a golden cloud. I went to Joe's for cuddle time yesterday. He invited me. It wasn't just cuddling though -- you could crudely call it a booty call. It was wonderful nevertheless and an excellent display of manliness. We're both really happy.

K.D. Lang

is fantastic! I've got her on my iPod with headphones. Somehow, having her crooning directly into my ears is really bringing out her incredible voice. I wish I could sing like her.

It's not really so bad

I spent Thursday and Friday and Saturday crying my eyes out because Don and Joe are so happy together and there isn't any room for me. It was an over-reaction on my part as all of my excessively emotional reactions have been. I should be aware of that by now -- crying means I'm over-reacting. Things look much better now, much more sunny. I've had some nice private time with both of them, and nice together time too. Last week Joe invited me on a motorcycle ride. Thankfully I had something else to do. I was much too emotional last week and it would not have been a good time to see him. I'm feeling much happier and more confident this week, and happily he extended the invitation again. It's beautiful outside - the aspens are turning gold, the leaves swirl down in the breeze. I shut my eyes to better feel the wind rushing past, the bike rumbling beneath us, his body in front of me, and thought how nice it was to be with someone so good at this. He braked suddenly but smoothly and I saw a buck deer crossing in front of us. See, that's just what I'm talking about, I thought. After our ride we went in the van for some cuddling. Thus I got to be in his arms again. The last time was in July, right before the hospitalization incident.

Things to do after hours

There are all kinds of things I can do to occupy myself between 5:00 and 7:30.

• See a movie
• Go shopping
• Go hiking
• Walk on Pearl Street Mall
• Go to Borders bookstore like Rhiannon and I used to do
• Stay in the office and work on my training
• Conduct art research at the college library
• Work on my art project here in the office
• Work on my photo blog
• Wander about the campus
• Attend campus events
• Cultivate a life on-line, esp. keeping up with long-distance friends and the JCMG which I have long neglected

I'm homeless now. I've nowhere to go. I have to make the city my home, the way I learned to in New York, and concentrate more on friends and career, both fairly neglected.

Home isn't home any more

Don is totally ga-ga over Joe. Don is so happy now. He whistles around the house. He spends long periods of time smoking, laughing, and shooting the breeze with Joe. Don used to leave for work promptly each morning and pick up coffee on the way; now he makes a pot at home and hangs around drinking it and talking things over with Joe. Having J around just makes it more obvious how little D and I have in common, how little we have to say to each other. The dog is crazy about J as well. I find it impossible to maintain a happy light-hearted mood so I've decided to just stay away. I've been rushing home after work to cook dinner and then clean up. That's just silly.

The Technique of the Love Affair

I am reading the most incredible book -- "The Technique of the Love Affair" by a gentlewoman. Absolutely fabulous advice, much of which I deliberately ignored in my relationship with Joe. I had thought that since the relationship itself was so non-traditional perhaps I could dispense with traditional forms of behavior. I spent a year -- more than a year -- in tremendous pain. It turns out that traditional behavior is a wonderful emotional protector.

Some pithy truths: A man who is not chasing you is a man who is not interested. It is essential while in a love relationship to keep up your friends and your interests -- the man must never feel that he is indispensable to you. A man smothered in love becomes satiated and bored. When a guy learns that he is indispensable to you he will lose interest so you can't let him know that. Be friendly and sweet and light-hearted, but keep the attitude that you can take him or leave him.

Don Wants a Divorce

Twenty-three years is about to come to an end. He's right about all of it -- we don't work together well; I don't respect him and he doesn't respect me; we don't have the same goals; on and on and on. Can this marriage be saved? Should we even bother? We just barely tolerate each other some days.

I'm glad the words have been said. It's silly to live a lie. I don't want him blaming me, though. He's the one who smashed the relationship to bits with his little rock hammer. It's been coming back together very slowly. For a long long time I didn't care one bit if it ever came back together at all. For a long time I was just hanging in there until Michaela graduated from high school; then I was going to be out the door.

It's gotten a lot better since then. We've had good times together. Now I find I do care. It will be hard to say good-bye.

Our New Roommate

When Joe was hospitalized with Diabetic Ketoacidosis, Don, knowing the hospital bills would be enormous, invited him to come live with us as a way to save money. Joe's decided to take him up on it. He'll be moving in at the end of September. Now THERE'S an unexpected twist for you. And this in spite of the fact that I keep telling Don that I have strong feelings for Joe.

So much for my numerous vows to never see him again. I'll be seeing him every day! This is all so ironic that it makes me laugh. I'm kinda excited. I feel like I'm getting married. Without the sex. There will be lots of fun and companionship, but I'm pretty sure there isn't going to be any more sex. We'll get to be friends and I'll finally stop being so tongue-tied and self-conscious and stupid when I'm around him.

Six Colors

About a year ago I decided to limit my fashion palate to six colors: black, red, white, gray, beige/khaki and blue jeans. This self-enforced limitation has been a lot of fun. I've become alot more aware of fashion and style. And it's easier to pack, too, when I'm off on a trip. Everything combines in some way with everything else. And because wearing a single color almost always looks very classy (especially when that color is red or black), I always have a way to look simple yet elegant. Today I've got on black pants, a beige T, a red shirt with rolled up sleeves and a multi-colored scarf.

The Weekend!

Labor Day Weekend! I took Friday off so I could have four lovely days of freedom. Friday I got a lot of little things done around the house, then went thrift-store shopping, and finally went to hear Don's friend Jack jam with his band. Saturday it was off to the flying field to take pics of the flyers. I talked to a lot of the folks I had taken pictures of last time, and met a lot of new folks. Saturday evening D and I had dinner and played UpWords at Joe's. I took some movies to watch but J didn't like any of them. He's so damn picky. I'm sick of it. I didn't look at him the entire night. Sunday I worked on my art lessons (Mommy It's a Renoir). These simple cards are opening up a whole new world for me -- the world of the schools of art. A hillside covered with houses makes me think Cubism. A wide-open vista stretching before me to the distant mountains is Hudson River. A field with sunflowers and farmhouses calls to mind Impressionism. Don was home all day which really irritated me. I wish he had left me alone so many years ago. I wouldn't do this all again, no way. So Sunday I avoided him as much as possible. He spent the day sleeping and watching TV -- just like the old days. Monday it was dog park, computer work, thrift-store shopping again, Teller Lake Trail again, and babysitting Sara and Julia. Don went to Joe's.

Charity's Laws for a Life Well Lived

No fear, no self-doubt: Act "as if." Self-confidence and self-assurance are what it's all about. Do whatever you need to develop these qualities.

Awareness: Be aware of what's going on within you and around you in nature, in the world, and in the lives of others.

Authenticity: Drop the mask. Speak the truth. You are no one if you are not yourself.

Industry: Get things done. Work hard at it! Throw yourself 100 percent into whatever you're doing. And stick to it! Talent grows with practice. Be disciplined in doing what you've chosen to do.

Excitement: Make all of life an adventure. If things are dull, make something happen.

Connection: Love the one you're with. Tremendously. Passionately. Truly. Madly. Deeply. It feels good to love. But if that's too much, then make a connection. Collect somebody.

Mastery: Pay your dues. Master a few things. Your choice, but do get good at them.

Habits: Have good habits. Then you won't always have to remind yourself. You'll do those boring little things automatically -- use sunscreen; eat salads and veggies; get enough sleep; exercise; drink water; save 10 percent; don't smoke -- those little things that over the long haul keep you healthy and happy.

Contribute: Be a contributor to the group. Be a worthwhile and worthy group member. Have something to say, a game to play, an idea to keep things moving.

Challenge: Always take the challenge to do something difficult. Stretch yourself. "We choose to do these things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard."

Insight, Learning and Discovery: Think. And learn. And make discoveries. And be curious about the world around you.

Joie de Vivre: Make life joyful. Let the simple things thrill you.

Forgiveness: Adversity is a gift.

A Good Life

- enjoying every moment
- surrounding yourself with beauty
- meaningful work
- enough money to pay the bills
- occasional days of excitement
- having people that you love
- being really good at something

Plus Charity's Laws for a Life Well Lived.

Love Poems

In complete disregard of my resolution to never see him again, I spent most of Saturday in Joe's company. Saturday was the family's annual Summer Birthdays Celebration at Broomfield Bay water park. I extended an invitation when I saw him on Friday with D but didn’t really expect him to show. Surprise surprise he did, and he even brought a present for the summer birthday kids! We spent several hours together there. And after THAT, he took D and me up to the mountains in search of a little ghost town he had heard of. And then we went to a restaurant, and then to his place for UpWords. One of my plays was LOVE/POEM. That prompted him to get his book of Love Poems out for me, which tome I mentioned earlier in this blog. I spent the evening perusing it. Nothing struck me, except the fact that the old love poems are wordy and overblown. I prefer the love songs of today, like Nazareth's "Love Hurts" and Willie Nelson's "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain" (love is like a dying ember, only memories remain). On Sunday he brought his daughter over to play with my nieces. I'm doing amazingly well considering the amount of interaction we had. There's no agony; he's gentle on my mind.

The Olde Town Pickin' Parlor

I just had pretty close to the best night of my life. Top ten, anyway. I spent the evening at the Olde Town Pickin' Parlor in Arvada, Colorado, listening to folk, bluegrass and old-time western music.

There were an amazing variety of stringed instruments, some of which I'd never seen before; excellent music; top quality vocalists; etc etc. This particular event was a fund-raiser for one of their own, and many artists donated their skills. I loved them all. Jon Chandler was fantastic. Mary Huckins had me crying through most of her songs. The place was pretty packed when I got there but I managed to score a very good seat on the end of the second row where I had a very good view.

For the final song, all the musicians squeezed up on stage; audience and artists all raised our hands to heaven and sang a long and rousing rendition of "Let the Circle Be Unbroken." The whole thing was a ton of fun and a fantastic evening.

Thoughts on the Subject

1. He acted like he wanted me. He said he wanted a relationship. He acted all affectionate. Then he disappeared for weeks. He never ever said he changed his mind. He just left me wondering.
2. He's manipulative.
3. He doesn't want to talk to me.
4. He doesn't need to see me.
5. He said he couldn't afford to extend any emotional energy to me. And he didn't.
6. I said "There's never a two-of-us." He said "I don't know what to say."
7. I used him as much as he used me. I wanted excitement.

A Love Poem

I fell in love with someone.
I kept waiting and hoping and waiting and hoping that he would love me too.
It hurt so much!
So yesterday I asked him, "Will you ever love me too?"
He said no, he never would.
But I don't believe him.
So I keep waiting and hoping and waiting and hoping that he will love me too.
It hurts so much!
But I really want it to be true.

Hospitalized

He took himself to Urgent Care on Tuesday because he was still vomiting and hiccupping. They failed to pinpoint the problem and released him. I took him back on Wednesday. They still couldn't figure out the problem so they sent him to the hospital in an ambulance. I stayed at his bedside all day, first in the ICU and later in the hospital room. It was Diabetic Ketoacidosis, which before the discovery of insulin killed 100% of its victims. Nowadays it's just 2%. The hiccups were part of the body's attempt to excrete poisons through the respiratory system. They were so bad that at times he couldn't breathe. The hospital gave him drugs to ease the hiccups and put him on an IV to stabilize blood chemistry. On Thursday he was much better. On Friday they released him. I stayed with him all day Wednesday, most of the day Thursday, and most of the day Friday as well -- three very special days for me which I will always treasure.

More Disenchantment; plus I'm an idiot

I called him today to thank him for watching our house while we were gone. He sounded happy to hear from me but the conversation quickly degenerated from there. He told me the girl at the kennel was good-looking. He dissed everything I had to say about hiccup cures, and not gently either. He criticized my daughter's friend and the way he stays over at our house; said D and I have some serious boundary issues there. I hung up vowing yet again to stop seeing him. All the way home I pep-talked myself about not seeing him again. Then there he was in his red Saab, turning onto our street at the same time as me. He pulled over, I pulled up next to him, he said he felt awful and would I come over and nurse him. Sure, I said, while thinking "What am I doing? Why can't I just cut this off?" He really did feel awful, even threw up several times while I was there. We squeezed in some sex in between dashes to the bathroom. Do you think he's just using me? (said sarcastically). I've mentioned before that he doesn't work very hard at this relationship. I am acting like a silly, stupid and inexperienced young girl willing to throw away everything for some worthless guy. I see myself doing it and yet I can't stop.

Remember

That he doesn't ever think of me. That he doesn't ever call me. That he promised to call Friday if it was slow but forgot to. That I called twice for lunch dates but he was too busy. That he said he'd take me riding but forgot. That he knew we both had Saturday free--he mentioned on Thursday that the two of us should do something--but come Saturday he took off by himself all day instead. That I didn't hear from him at all in January or February or March.

Questions

For J: Your body has told you flat out, and plain as plain, that it does not want to deal with sweet things anymore. It even destroyed its own sugar-handling ability so that it would not have to. Yet you continue to shovel the sugar in. Why don't you listen to your body?

For J: Movies and TV and drinking are all ways of getting out of your own head, of not listening to the stuff that's going on in there. How come you hate your own thoughts so much?

For J, on saying he'll call: You've been telling me that lie for the last seven years. Do me a favor -- never, ever, let those words come out of your mouth again. I always believe you, and I always end up disappointed.

For me: How do I move past something that I've wanted so much for so long? How do I get out of the habit of thinking of him?

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.