Month of April 2004

Thursday, April 1, 2004
Morning: I'm sitting down to breakfast in front of my computer. I've got melty Brie on crunchy rice cakes, juicy orange slices and a rich hot carob with steamed milk. The Astronauts are singing retro music on my CD player. Web sites beckon. It's a great morning!

Day: Kendall and her friend Dana pulled a funny April Fool's Day prank today. They scraped the white filling out of Oreos and replaced it with toothpaste. Then they went around school offering the cookies to all of their friends. They still had cookies when English class came around, so they placed the cookies on a plate for everyone to help themselves. Everyone did. They'd take a bite, then spit it out, yelling "What the hell is in these cookies?" It was great.

Evening: The family is assembling for Nan's funeral. Uncle Allen arrived today with Bonnie, Amanda and Kyle. We had a wonderful gourmet dinner at Dad's, prepared by Allen. Lots of talk, laughter and very good food.

Thursday, April 8, 2004
Archery practice this evening. I love these and today was a good one. Because I'm not so good with people sometimes, I pulled a Tarot card before I went to answer the question "What personality trait should I embody in order to be most successful tonight?" I drew the Hermit, which to me means, "Let your light shine." In addition, the Hermit is kind of "my card," that is, it represents me, both numerologically and in personality. Be yourself, said the Tarot. Don't try to be what you're not. Let who you are shine through. So I did and I had a wonderful time. I did fairly well shooting, too. I love this sport!

Tuesday, April 13, 2004
Did I tell you that Rhiannon ran up a huge medical bill while she was camping with the Rainbow Family? She contracted an ear infection, probably the second ear infection of her entire life, and of course she gets it while she's out traveling with people who don't do health care. They tried to cure it with natural remedies but it didn't respond to treatment. Finally she couldn't take the pain anymore and went to the Gila Regional Medical Center Emergency Room to see a doctor. The emergency room is where indigent people get their health care, and a very expensive place to get health care it is. The doctor was with her for fifteen minutes at most but still had no problem billing us $500.00. Fucking highway robbery. She gave them a fake name and SSN so I can't put it on my health insurance. The whole thing was giving me bad dreams -- not because I'm so incredibly honest, but because I didn't want to get in trouble or have Rhiannon get in trouble for skipping out on the bill. So anyway, she's going to pay me $25/month till it's paid back.

Wednesday, April 14, 2004
I've made a vow to draw every day this week. I'll never get better if I don't practice. So far, so good. It's incredible to see something come to life on paper.

I'm listening to an excellent country station just now. Great mix of new songs and oldies. I'm hearing some I haven't heard in years.

Weekend, April 17-18, 2004
I went to a seminar this weekend. It was about "The Work of Byron Katie" and was quite interesting. I went because I heard that this process uses "Inquiry" and "The Work" which are the same words that the Diamond Approach uses. I was hoping to learn the method in a much cheaper way than having to learn it at the Ridhwan Foundation. I've decided not to join the Foundation, by the way, because of the immense amount of money required. My alarm bells were going off. There's probably a scam in there somewhere. Religion should be free. I will, however, continue to read the books and perhaps follow this way on my own. But I'm not going to fork over thousands of dollars per year for the next ten years.

At Byron Katie's seminar I learned that there's another side to the beliefs that we hold true. We believe such things as "My dad is an asshole" or "My mother didn't love me or "I'll never get my emotional needs met" (my particular favorite). Then we filter everything we see through these beliefs. Katie taught us how to question our beliefs, to see them from a different perspective, and to replace them if necessary with beliefs that are more true. I have a lot to work through and so my journal will be very interesting in these coming months. I met a nice man named David who I hope to see again, friendship-wise. He was one of my partners during the facilitator/client sessions. Perhaps we'll meet at one of the inquiry circles in the area. I did not go intending to make any friends, however, and I pretty much kept to myself emotionally. All around me people were connecting and bonding, but I didn't let myself be a part of that. I figured I'd never see these people again, so why bother? (That's probably a belief that I should work through.)

The belief I was working on with David was "My husband should support his family." That can be turned around by saying, "I should support my family" or "His family should support my husband or "My husband shouldn't support his family"." Eye opening statements, the first two, as they do contain truth. I can't see the truth in the last statement unless I give up an underlying belief in the roles of men and women, of husbands and wives, of fathers and mothers.
Here are the four questions you ask of your belief when doing The Work:

1. Is it true?
2. Is it absolutely true?
3. How do you react when you think that thought?
4. Who would you be without the thought?

Then you turn the thought around, i.e., think of its opposite. Is this new thought true in any way? Can you find another turnaround and if so, is this thought true? Find three ways that these new thoughts are true.

Monday, April 19, 2004
I purchased two more tarot decks, even though I said I wouldn't buy any. I bought "Tarot of the Cloisters" because I've always wanted it and Kendall encouraged me, and I bought "Tarot Prediction Deck" because it has pips for the minor arcana. I want a deck that le'ts me interpret the minor arcana the way I want to.

Pat at work and I had a nice talk about spiritual teachers. She was involved in the Diamond Approach for a little. She told me a little about Gurdjieff, who I will read. She would have gone to the Byron Katie's seminar if she'd known about it.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004
I bought a great book at lunch called "Six Ways of Being Religious." Not that I don't already have a lot of books to read. I need to find some medieval specialty, as well, so I have something to talk about with these medieval re-enactment people I hang around with sometimes.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004
"Six Ways of Being Religious" is incredible. Not only that, it goes for $55 on Amazon.com but I spent only $8 for it.

The six ways are:

1. Way of Right Action
2. Way of Sacred Right
3. Way of Reasoned Inquiry
4. Way of Mystical Quest
5. Way of Shamanic Meditation
6. Way of Devotion

We will be looking at Christianity and Buddhism in light of these ways. I like the book very much so far. It seems to be respectful of all religions, most especially in letting them describe themselves rather than looking at them through the lens of Christianity as many Western thinkers have tended to do.

Thursday, April 22, 2004
Oh for heaven's sake, guess who just called me. Joe. He was bored and wanted to chat. So we chatted. I guess that is what I get from him, isn't it? Calls when he needs to pass a bit of time. I had been wondering if and when he'd call. It has been such a struggle for me to get him out of my head. I think about him everyday, but want him to be gone forever! When I catch myself thinking of him, I give myself a slap on the arm in an attempt to associate pain with Joe. Not that I don't already have that association. My relationship with him has been nothing but pain.

Friday, April 23, 2004
Every now and then I think, "I've got to get a handle on this Freud guy. He's been such a big influence in the world of psychology" so I sit down to read his work, but I never get very far before I think, "I bet Freud abused his kids and slept with his clients as well, and he made up this big theory in order to justify his behavior."

An acquaintance showed me a paper he'd written analyzing Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets from a Freudian perspective. His analysis really turned my stomach. It was sick. "Too many flying dicks," as another acquaintance said.

It has been said that psychological theories are nothing more than personal confessions. If so, then Freud must have had huge sexual hang-ups. I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that he engaged in deviant sexual behavior. I have become a Freud skeptic in a big way.

Sunday, April 25, 2004
Confirmation party for my niece Emily at her house. Tons of people, none of whom I knew. I wandered about feeling a bit panicked. I did manage to get a good conversation going with Emily's other grandpa, all about Cuba and cigars, quite interesting, really, and I was enjoying myself, but then Emily's mother Tess came over. She interrupted us and the flow never came back. I also tried to start a conversation with two gentlemen I was sitting next to while eating but it never really got anywhere. Tough crowd. Panic was descending on me, enveloping and overwhelming me. I was about to go home when my side of the family showed up. Hallelujah!

Wednesday, April 28, 2004
I'm in the middle of making a quiver and a new garb dress. Both are beautiful. Both are low-budget. The quiver is made of a mailing tube covered in red faux snakeskin from the Salvation Army. It is so beautiful it makes me drool. The garb is made from $1/yard navy and black stuff from Walmart that crinkled up along its length when washed. It's beautifully heavy, has a fantastic drape, and the crinkles give it some natural stretch. Plus it feels wonderful. I've put on a medieval-looking metal closure and cream silk sleeves, also from the Salvation Army. I'll wear the gown under a red tabard appliqued with a gold fleur-de-lys. I'd estimate the cost of the materials for this project at $10.

I don't know why I get so excited about making garb and going camping with the SCA. I don't really know anyone. Rhiannon, by the way, wants me to go to Pennsic with her this summer. It would be very fun and very expensive, what with plane tickets, car rental and eating out. I just might do it.

Thursday, April 29, 2004
Life is so great I can't even believe it. I spent the evening with my father and his girlfriend. (Did I mention that she looks just like my mother, may she rest in peace?) We had a wonderful time talking and joking. Later my uncle called from California. He's a great big guy who loves life in a great big way; it was great to hear from him. Dad and I got a lot done. While going through all the papers we found some old photos of people we've loved. We agreed, "It's been great. This life has been a good one."

Two newborn babies lay side by side in their hospital cribs. They looked at one another before they were taken away to their homes and families. Ninety years later, they again lay side by side in the hospital, this time on their death beds. One looked at the other and said, "So, what'd ya think?"

I think it has been great. I think it has been worth it. Right this minute is worth it. It's snowing outside, classical music is on the boom box, and I've got a good job and a good weekend planned. And I'm wearing a Fred Flintstones tie.

Friday, April 30, 2004
I was the staff liaison for our SCA revel tonight. About ten people showed up. We made hobby horses, worked on various projects, and talked. I still get overcome with panic sometimes, even though I've been in the group for a year! I've GOT to overcome this! Too bad I don't know how. Anyway, I sat near the center of the circled tables, hemming my gown, laughing and making comments when appropriate. I didn't command much attention. Sometimes I wish I could think of something to say, but I just can't. It's my own fault. I haven't researched the Middle Ages or come up with any good stories to relate. One can't say anything when one has nothing to say, after all. The rule for social gatherings is PREPARE. It's a rule I usually break.

Month of March 2004

Wednesday, March 1, 2004
What do you do when everything crumbles around you? When the things you thought were true turn out to be empty shells? When you thought you were on the right track but it leads into brambles?

Everything -- Christianity, the tarot, mythology, psychology -- is full of wrong turns and false teachings. What is there? What do you base your life upon? How do you know what is worthwhile?

Thursday, March 11, 2004
Archery practice. Had an excellent time. Max and Simon and I stayed on a bit after everyone else had left. They talked, I listened and occasionally made a comment or asked a question. I admire them both so much. They are so knowledgeable. And Simon is like the perfect guy, for me, anyway. He's soft-spoken, yet very intelligent, knowledgeable, centered and self-confident. Boy, I wish I was like him.

Friday, March 12, 2004
Evaluation at work today. I HATE evaluations because I know I'm not working up to my potential. I know I could be working harder. I waste several hours a day goofing around. I could be focusing on my work, improving, talking to people. As it turns out, though, my boss and our clients are very happy with the work I've been doing. They say I'm quick, thorough and responsive. Which is true. I'm all that. I'm just not as good as I could be.

Joe called while I was in the evaluation meeting. I wonder why? My feelings for him fluctuate. My loving feelings for him are always coming back, and I'm always having to pep-talk myself out of them. I'm always having to remind myself, "Keep in mind, Charity, that you don't want to engage in sodomy" and "He wants a family. You can't give him that."

Joe called back. He called to tell me he talked to my husband this morning. Don called him at work, not knowing it was him, looking for a car part.

I can feel myself slipping into "Nobody Loves Me" mode. The world is starting to feel bleak and empty. I refuse to go there. I'm going to think about who I can love, who I can reach out to and have fun with. Maybe I can beat this.

I need a way to think about him.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004
I was bored out of my mind at art class today. We did a critique of our work. Each of us put up what we've done so far this semester, then talked about our work and solicited comments. Rachel, who is not very good, always has an awful lot to say about her work. Dion, who is excellent, has very little. Too bad everybody's not like him. Our teacher also does a lot of talking talking talking. I was being driven bonkers.

Weekend, March 20-21, 2004
I took Kendra and Michaela up to Glenwood Springs for a long weekend exploring Colorado's geology. We had a great time. We hit the Hot Springs for which Glenwood is famous (very popular but very overrated), hiked aways along Glenwood Canyon, and spent an hour or two in the Vapor Caves, which are dark, steamy, small underground caves. They are just a natural underground sauna, and more "real" than the Hot Springs were. We breakfasted in a local diner and vowed to always eat in local diners. No national chains for us. We also went up to Aspen, where we poked around an art gallery and got ice cream. Besides original work in the gallery, there was lots in the style of some master or another. We felt very intelligent being able to point out Klimpt, Van Gogh, Matisse, and Picasso. We listened to the girls' CDs the whole time. I liked Fountains of Wayne and said I was going to buy them but Michaela said I wasn't allowed to like her music.

Wednesday, March 24, 2004
There are no messages in the cards.

Thursday, March 25, 2004
Life completely and totally sucks. No one cares one bit about me. I talk and people ignore me. More specifically, I post messages on my yahoo groups and no one talks back. I'm Miss Invisible. Why do I spend so much time thinking about how to make my life worthwhile? It never will be, not to anyone. Who cares what I have to say? No one but myself.

You know what. I have such a hard time connecting with people because my mom didn't connect with me. I felt pretty rejected by her and I can't get over it enough to make connections with others. (Her mom did it to her, too, and she had plenty of her own troubles, so I'm not blaming her; that's just how it is.) I am hugely driven by fear of rejection which I cannot get over no matter how much I try. I determined that I would make sure my kids had a solid base and a strong connection with me so that they could go out into the world and make friends. And it worked! Each of them has friends that they hang out with and talk to on the phone. And you know what? I'm jealous! They have what I want. They have what I cannot get.

Sometimes I feel like I'm just waiting for death. I haven't figured out the purpose of life. I probably never will. I'll just drift on through until I'm finally dead.

Weekend, March 26-28, 2004
Busy busy busy. First, a wonderful thing: Rhiannon came home. She came in for the weekend to surprise her boyfriend for his birthday. I picked her up at the airport and was lucky enough to get to spend Friday with her. She was full of stories of her adventures in AmeriCorps. We got her hair cut, bought material for pajama pants (she'd promised pajama pants for two friends in Maryland) and out to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, an expensive place that specializes in cheesecake, as you might guess. With cheesecake, I discovered, less is more. The restaurant did things to their cheesecakes that shouldn't be visited upon anyone. Mix-ins, for example, are just wrong.

On Saturday and Sunday Rhiannon disappeared to Boulder to hang out with her boyfriend. She brought him home Sunday evening for a visit. What a cutie!

Saturday night I went on-line and spent a few hours with my mythology group chat room. I've only been three times but I'm getting to know and like those people. Sunday I again went to the "Acoustic Brunch" at a coffee house up the street. I love these brunches. I sit at a cozy table, eating quiche, reading a book and listening to live acoustic guitar music performed by a lone artist.

Monday, March 29, 2004
My mother's birthday, may she rest in peace. Rhiannon has gone back home. She is just the neatest thing. She's gone and I miss her.

God, it's pathetic that my children are my social life. I have no one to hang out with but them. Yes, I know, I built my life this way so I have no one to blame but myself. Soon they'll be gone and I'll rebuild.

I'm not really interesting in rebuilding with my husband. He's boring and unintelligent. We haven't had a conversation in years. We have nothing to say to one another. Not only that, I just don't like the guy anymore.

Wednesday, March 31, 2004
Went to Dad's house last night to pay bills and get some tax work done. It's always so nice to be there. I'm very aware that I won't have these times with him forever. Ramona came in from Albuquerque around 10:30 with her kids and dogs. She's come for Nan's interment which will be Saturday. She's got a new Chihuahua. Boy, is it cute. It's like a little rat.

Month of February 2004

Sunday, February 8, 2004
I haven't written yet anything this month because I'm just not in the mood for whining and complaining about my troubles.

I had a nice day today. After chores and the grocery store, I went to the library for a free concert of classical and romantic period guitar solos. Very nice. Later I went down to Tess's to give little Michael a present. He's three and boy is he a doll. I'm in love with him. He's got the look I really like in men -- fair skin, dark curly hair, dark eyes. (FYI: Joe has that look, Don doesn't) His favorite birthday present was a piggy bank and bag of pennies and nickles, from Grandpa. Michael, apparently, likes money and takes it from wherever he can find it -- mommy's purse, his sibling's piggy banks, etc. When he'd put his coins in his new bank, I shook it saying "Money Money Money" and he thought that was great.

Kendall, Michaela and I are having a nice time together, just hanging around. They come into my room and into the kitchen to talk to me. We watched Clueless together yesterday. Very cute movie. With Rhiannon gone there's more space for them.

Okay, here comes a complaint: My brother's been telling me about a marriage retreat coming up in our area called Retrouville. It is designed especially for troubled marriages. He knows of my troubles and is encouraging me to go, but you know what? As long as Don doesn't care to contribute financially to the family, I'm not interested in working out our differences. I'm just not. I don't care to have a good relationship with a freeloader.

Tuesday, February 10, 2004
In all honesty, he's not a total freeloader. I can count on him to keep my car going -- my '74 Saab 900 which he fixed up for me. All we have is very old Saabs because that's all he can work on. And what's weird is that even though he works on old cars all day and into the night, most of our cars don't work that well. I had to rent a car to go down to New Mexico to get Rhiannon because he didn't think mine could make the trip. What does he really do out in the garage all day?

On another note: I am such an idiot. I'm given many many opportunities to get to know people and I usually don't take them because I'm always thinking about how insecure I am. So today, there I am in the same room with Deborah Jinn, MacArthur winner and possible future Nobel prize winner, creator of the Fermionic Condensate, a new form of matter. It was a small room and there's weren't many of us, but I didn't say anything to her, not even "Congratulations."

Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Drawing class this semester is very different from last semester. There are a lot of loudmouth know-it-alls in there this time. It's hard to get a word in edgewise. One girl, Rachel, had a lot to say during the critique about her work and other's work too. Too bad her work wasn't very good. My scribble picture, Still Life in Blue, turned out very well. I am proud of it.

I'm doing Tarot more consistently. I bought four new decks in the past few days. I can't help myself! I'm working with the Voyager Tarot just now -- a busy, jumbled deck, not nearly as beautiful as most reviews say, but I am getting helpful readings. I've also been studying Tarot spreads. I usually do a one-card spread because I'm such a newbie at this - ask a question, draw a card for the answer - but I've learned a little more and and am trying spreads with more cards now. I did a five-card spread on Tuesday on the situation with Joe and me. Yes, I know, I promised to never think of him again and obviously doing a Tarot reading on him doesn't help me toward my goal, however, it is a very interesting subject and a fun one for readings.

I did a "Past Present Future" reading with five cards and my Hanson-Roberts deck.

1	2	3	4	5
More Distant Past	Recent Past	Present	Immediate Future	More Distant Future
I drew:
Judgment (judgment, redemption)	Nine of Swords (guilt, worry, anxiety)	The Devil	Seven of Cups (choice, addiction)	Page of Swords (challenge)

Pretty incredible reading. The past HAS been one of both judgment and redemption -- he angry at me for being less than perfect, me feeling like my whole world is fixed because he's in it. And that Devil -- whatever else it means, it's got a picture of an estranged couple on it. Apparently I'll have to make some kind of choice in the near future. He may be getting in touch with me. This will lead to a challenge to my integrity.

Thursday, February 12, 2004
So, guess who called and left a message on my machine? There it is -- an opportunity to make a choice -- to see him or not. Well, if the future is any indication of the past, seeing Joe will lead to a period of emotional turmoil which I will have to work hard to overcome. It won't lead to a relationship of any kind. He probably called because he wants something. Therefore let's not bother.

Friday, February 13, 2004
Chili party today at work. Everyone who wanted to brought a pot of chili to share. We stuffed ourselves while three judges decided the best of the chilis. I brought a batch using a recipe I'd found on the internet. It was pretty good but it didn't win anything. It had lots of secret ingredients: brown sugar, beer, coffee and cocoa powder. I think I'll call it "Chili with Four Secret Ingredients" from now on. It will be my special recipe.

Sunday, February 15, 2004
I have been thinking that I'd follow the Diamond Approach as a spiritual path but I've discovered I can't afford it. They want money, and lots of it: $100 to join, $170 per month thereafter, individual sessions extra. Sheesh. I could be a Christian for nothing. Maybe spiritual paths are stupid. I definitely reject any spiritual path that leads to "God" since there's nobody there and if there were I wouldn't worship it.

I've been thinking something else -- that my marriage has put me in survival mode. All I want to do is survive: survive his bad moods, survive his verbal attacks, survive the lack of money, survive the loneliness. There's no growth, no self-actualization, no love or self-esteem. And I get all this because I married a Christian. You see why I've left Christianity.

Though, in all honesty, he tries. He struggles with depression and with being unable to cope with the pressures of his life, but he does try. Sometimes.

Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Art class is good. I finished Incoming Globes and am very proud of it. The other students are a talky bunch and I am having a good time in there.

There is no answer to be found in the cards, or in the stars, or in divination of any sort. The answer is within you or it is no where.

I wish Joe loved me. I wish that, 20 years ago, I'd moved back to California and married John.

But he doesn't and I didn't and there's nothing I can do about it.

Friday, February 20, 2004
I complain a lot about Don in this journal but here's a secret. He loves me more than I love him. He always has. He loved me first and when he's in a good mood, he loves me still. It was his love for me that sparked and fed mine for him, and when he turned mean, his bad tempers killed off the love I had.

Little Willie Poems

It was my mother who taught me the Little Willie poems. I post them here in her memory.

Willie in the best of sashes,
Fell in the fire and burned to ashes.
By and by the room grew chilly
Because no one wanted to poke up Willie.

Willie with a thirst for gore,
Nailed the baby to the door.
Mother said, with humor quaint:
"Careful, Will, don't scratch the paint."

Little Willie from the mirror
Licked the mercury all off
Thinking in his childish error
It would cure his whooping cough.
At the funeral, Willie's mother
Smartly said to Mrs. Brown,
"Twas a chilly day for Willie
When the mercury went down!"

Little Willie on the tracks
Didn't hear the engine squeal.
Now the engine's coming back
Scraping Willie off the wheel.

Willie poisoned Auntie's tea.
Auntie died in agony.
Uncle came and looked quite vexed.
"Really, Will," said he, "What next?"

Willie, I regret to state,
Cut his sister into bait.
We miss her when it's time to dine,
But Willie's fish taste simply fine.

Willie fell down the elevator,
Wasn't found till six days later.
Then the neighbors sniffed, "Gee whiz!
What a spoiled child Willie is."

Willie bashed open baby's head
To see if brains are gray or red.
What a naughty boy is he
He shall have no jam for tea.

Willie in the cauldron fell;
See the grief on mother's brow.
Mother loved her darling well;
Willie's quite hard-boiled by now.

Willie and two other brats
Licked up all the Rough-on-Rats.
Father said, when mother cried,
"Never mind, they'll die outside."

Into the family drinking well
Willie pushed his sister Nell.
She's there yet, because it kilt her
Now we'll have to buy a filter.

Little Willie, mean as hell,
Threw his sister in the well.
Said his mother when drawing water,
"Sure is hard to raise a daughter."

Little Willie hung his sister.
She was dead before we missed her.
"Willie's always up to tricks.
Ain't he cute! He's only six."

Little Willie's dead and gone.
His face we'll see no more.
For what he thought was H2O
Was H2SO4.

Willie saw some dynamite,
Couldn't understand it quite.
Curiosity never pays;
It rained Willie seven days.

Month of January 2004

Thursday, January 1, 2004
Today was a GREAT day! I got Rhiannon back and I overcame a challenge.

I got up early (not easy, as I'd stayed up till 12:30) and headed down the road to Silver City, New Mexico, ten hours away. God, I hate long road trips. I can't stand being bored for so many hours on end. I was having a very difficult time of it till I realized I should treat it as a challenge, as something to be successful at. Once I decided to win I did much better. I "danced" to lively music, listened to books on tape and did lots of thinking. You know what else I did? Well, no, I won't tell you. :-)

I put Rhiannon up at the EconoLodge yesterday and there she was awaiting my arrival. She had homemade dreadlocks ("dread" being a fitting description) and many tales of her adventures with the Rainbow Family. She had a wonderful time and is looking forward to going back.

She contracted an ear infection while she was gone. Natural remedies had no effect on it. After a week of pain she went in to the local emergency room where she received treatment and a prescription for antibiotics. She gave the hospital a fake name and address. She "spainged" to pay for the antibiotics. That's a contraction of "spare change." It means to beg. I'm much more willing to give to beggars I meet now that my own daughter has had to beg for medicine money.

Sunday, January 4, 2004
Went ice skating. By myself. I love the feel of balance, grace and speed.

Tuesday, January 6, 2004
The whole family went to see Return of the King and we greatly enjoyed it. The director did a good job bringing Tolkien's story to the screen. Don and Rhiannon went in one car, me and K and M in another. We met at the theatre. It was kind of a father/daughter outing for Don and Rhiannon.

Wednesday, January 7, 2004
Joe called. He wanted something -- to be able to use me as a reference on his lease application. I said sure. He must not know a soul if he has to use me. He said he hadn't seen me for a while and I should stop by. I said I would sometime when I was out walking the dog. That was a lie, though. I don't ever intend to see him again. He made a few sexually tinged comments, as usual. He must think I'm a slut, talking to me like that.

Thursday, January 8, 2004
I'm sick. Sick sick sick. I have a cold. But I'm at work anyway. And in spite of my illness, life is good. I have a sunny office, nice co-workers, a cup of hot tea and Mozart on the boom box.

Friday, January 9, 2004
Dinner at the Pearl Wok in remembrance of Mom who passed away three years ago today. Earlier today the siblings had a heated e-mail discussion about whether the grandkids should come. Not a problem for me; my kids are teens. Everyone else's are early elementary and preschool. In the end, I brought mine, Maria brought hers, Ray brought his, Tess left her eight at home (thank goodness), Rick didn't come at all. Ray's boys were getting pretty restless toward the end so I took them outside where we all ran around and had a wonderful time.

Sunday, January 11, 2004
I had a wonderful time at the local library listening to a folk singer. Sadly, I fell into despair when I got home and I found my husband watching TV, the kids tapping away at their computers and the kitchen a mess. I'm supposed to make dinner in that? I enjoy cooking for everyone but not when I'm treated with such disrespect. I felt like I was the only one who cared at all about family matters. It seemed like everyone was busy at their own selfish pursuits leaving Mom the house elf to make sure the day-to-day necessities were taken care of. I moped around until I began to cry then got back in my car and went for a long drive. Nothing had changed when I got back except that everyone had wondered where I was. I told Don to take some responsibility. He started the dishes and that made me feel a lot better. We all watched a movie and that time of togetherness made me feel better, too. You know what, though? Don never did actually do the dishes. He only filled the sink with hot soapy water.

Monday, January 12, 2004
Good family day. The kitchen was clean when I got home from work. Don was in a good mood and interacted cheerily with the children and myself. Rhiannon later commented on the fact that he's been happier lately.

She's been reading a Richard Feynman book which has inspired her to learn everything about everything. I took her to the library so she could begin to fulfill this goal. We checked out tons of books. Back at home we watched the specials on the Pirates of the Caribbean DVD.

From a review on Amazon.com of Why God Won't Go Away: 'The larger question, that of whether the mystical experience is the experience of a transcendent other, remains unanswered. Evolution, being based on chance, even if the die are somewhat loaded, can err and produce a brain fixated on worshiping its own illusions. On the other hand, mystics may be in a position similar to that of the first amoeba to sense light. "I 'see' things," she tells her psychiatrist, "before I bump into them." The good amoeba doctor wisely prescribes a medication to rid her of such experiences.'

Wednesday, January 14, 2004
I've been working in my Intensive Journal, going over the Early Marriage Steppingstone Period. I find that from the beginning Don has not been a good provider, has never intended to be a good provider, has always been willing to let me work while he "finds" himself. How in the world did I miss that before I married him?

What I wanted, when I married, was a man who would be a good husband and father, interested in children, capable of making a living, a Christian who was committed to doing what's right and to continued spiritual growth. I didn't get that. What Don wanted was a woman who would work side by side with him and help him in his job. I have to tell you, I tried for thirteen years. I worked in his business but I'll never do that again. He was constantly angry with me, blamed me for what went wrong, and never concerned himself with the money side of things. He worked 70 hours a week and was upset that I didn't put in the kind of hours he did. The children pretty much grew up without him.

Thursday, January 15, 2004
Archery with the SCA. I took Rhiannon and we had a ton of fun. I've mentioned my feelings about medieval re-enactment (it's silly) but I like archery and it's nice having people to do it with.

I'm reading several fantastic books right now: Fourteen, Growing Up Alone in a Crowd; The Power of Secular Humanism; What Makes the Great Great.

Friday, January 16, 2004
My niece Sara completed her accredited homeschool kindergarten program this morning. On Monday she begins first grade. I gave her Dr. Seuss's The Foot Book as a graduation present. I wish . . . I wish I had homeschooled. I read all about it. I wish I had had my husband's backing for the things I tried to do with the children.

As you, dear reader, think about homeschooling, think: I wonder what would have helped me more, better socialization or a closer bond with my mother and father?

I've been listening to all my CD's, one by one. It's kinda cool. Once I'm done here, I think I'll work through the CD's at my local library. They've got a large collection.

Thursday, January 22, 2004
A very bad evening. I'm angry at Rhiannon. I'm angry because she was gone all day yesterday and all day today; angry because she wants to be away from the house rather than at home; angry because she has friends to hang with while I have none; angry because she is everything and I am nothing; angry because I need her so much just when I'm supposed to be letting her go.

We had an argument over something small -- what the AmeriCorps handbook says about meals. We both left mad.

I thought, so long ago, that I was raising my future best friend so I had to do a good job of it. Now I see how impossible that idea was. She's all raised but we can't be friends. I can't sustain a friendship. I've got nothing to offer. There's no one here to be friends with.

I wish I could be a healthy happy mom. I could when the children were small. Now they've grown healthy and happy themselves. I can't pretend anymore. The truth is coming out: I'm not worthy of them, not good enough to be their friend, not interesting or exciting enough.

I'm going to run away. I'll smash all the furniture and burn it out back. I'll cut myself. I want to cut myself.

Friday, January 23, 2004
Okay, that was pitiful.

I'm reading two very cool books: Kinship with All Life by J. Allen Boone and Civility Rediscovered by Scott Peck. The first is inspiring, the second eye-opening.

I popped into my favorite thrift store at lunch for some shopping therapy. Thrift store shopping is such a wonderful treasure hunt. It is so much more thrilling than retail shopping because of the chance that one might find something really neat for really cheap. Today I got a $20 Barbie doll in a very pretty dress for a quarter (inspiration for my Barbie sewing), a black leather jacket, colorful mugs for the office kitchen and a steamer for giving oneself facials. Why does the acquisition of yet more material things make you feel so good?

Monday, January 26, 2004
Got up VERY EARLY this morning (3:30 a.m.!) in order to take Rhiannon to the airport for her 7:00 flight. She's off to Maryland and to the NCCC! I'll sure miss her and her sense of fun and adventure. At the same time, I'm very glad she's gone. It's been very hard for me, letting go, letting her grow up. It's been hard on her too, poor thing. Also, with her gone I won't be comparing myself to her so much. She's got friends and excitement and can come and go as she pleases. She's bubbly and loves life. She's not an old dodo head like me.

Don drove, which means of course that we were alone in the car together on the trip back. Which means it was very quiet in the car as we have nothing to say to one another.

Tonight was the first drawing class of the semester. I had a great time. Emma, Cole, Robert and Greg are back. I met one new person and look forward to meeting a lot more in the coming weeks.

Drawing is still somewhat painful for me but I plan on sticking with it till I'm pretty good. Like sewing, it takes a lot of patience which I don't have a lot of.

Rhiannon called in the evening to say she was settled in. Unfortunately I missed her as I was at class.

Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Rhiannon called again because she felt like chatting. She filled me in on what it's like so far. She's having a great time. She's living in a one-bathroom house with six other girls. There are plenty of other kids on base. She and her roommates agree that all the guys are hot. They'll be in training for a few weeks, then off on volunteer assignments.

Wednesday, January 28, 2004
My birthday! I was given a wonderful gift many years ago -- the gift of life. I know that sounds corny, and I know that I've had my difficulties, but on whole, life is a wonderful adventure and I am really glad to be alive.

Drawing class today. Boy, do I like drawing class. I'm in Drawing II. Emma and Cole from last semester have returned as well. Emma and I have opted to repeat the Drawing I curriculum. I am very glad I'm doing that. I am still a shaky drawer and this is building my confidence. We go into the big room with all the other Drawing I kids. It's great to have so many other beginning drawing students around. There are some nice friendly people in there and it already feels warm and welcoming, perhaps because I'm more open to it, more warm and welcoming myself. I started talking to other students on the first day, thereby setting the example.

Month of December 2003

Monday, December 1, 2003
Professor Rogers, my old philosophy professor, called me from Mexico this morning. He retired there about six years ago. He received my letter last week and called then but I was out for the Thanksgiving holiday. We're going to get together at Christmas when he comes up to visit his son and daughter who live in Lafayette. It was very nice to hear from him, though I think his crush on me may be alive and well. When I see him I am going to pick his brains about the Meaning Of It All. Oh, he's also calling again next Monday.

In art class, Lee was very upset. His father's leukemia has flared up. His father may be dying. Lee is a good artist and a role-player. I like the guy.

Stopped at dad's on the way home and looked through more boxes of pictures. Those shoeboxes contain our family's life story. It's all there, starting with Mom and Dad's courtship and wedding, then the babies, the vacations, the adventures, the sports, the prom dates, the grandbabies, the wonderful wonderful times. It's been great, our life. Those pictures in those boxes prove it wasn't all a dream. It wasn't all a dream.

Tuesday, December 2, 2003
Rhiannon has made new plans. She wants to go on a road trip with some people she's just met. They'll travel to LA by car and get their food from soup kitchens. She's talked about it with a lot of people, most of whom say they think it's a bad idea. They've given her plenty of warnings.

She and I talked about all the dangers. I think the trip sounds very different and exciting, which makes me a very poor person to talk her out of it. She said many convincing things, including that she doesn't want to live with regrets and if she doesn't take this opportunity, it will be a regret.

Important for her to know: I love her more than any of her new friends do. I want the best for her, which they don't. Also, I'm very very proud of her. I want to see her reach her star. I don't want her to do anything that is going to get in the way of that.

Rhiannon deleted pages from her livejournal today. I guess she didn't go to work after all. She stayed home and updated her site. Does she suspect I've read it? The entry about why she wants to go roadtripping is gone, as is the one saying she is in love, the one about her Christmastime drug trip and also her very angry entry about her father, reproduced here. Darn it. I should have copied them all

Let's see if I can remember the latest one. She wrote on December 2 that Damien is in love with Annie. Annie is his one true love. He visited her over Thanksgiving break and was so happy when he got back. He feeds off other people's energy, he said, and there's nothing here for him. What a slap in the face that must have been to Rhiannon, the most high-energy person I know. Rhiannon is heartbroken. She loved him unconditionally, the way people want to be loved. Rhiannon did so much for Damien. She made him breakfast. She made his bed. She loved loving him. She knows he didn't love her back. They were friends with benefits. She thought - and still thinks -- that he is the most incredible person ever. He kept the dark away for her.

And I understand that. I still think Joe is wonderful. When he spoke I could bear my troubles. With him the future was bright, shiny, worth living for. With him I didn't envy the dead animals on the side of the road. I still think of him. But men love bitches, don't they? So I can't - won't - debase myself for him. If only Rhiannon wouldn't for Damien.

Fuck you
how dare you
every beginning
every end
and you're dead.

You died a long time ago
you just don't know it.

And she can't save you,
so Throw your own
FUCKING
life Preserver.
(by Rhiannon about Damien)

So anyway, broken-hearted Rhiannon met Clark while waiting at the bus stop. Clark invited her to go on a roadtrip to California with his group. He's a part of the Rainbow Family. She could live the life of the homeless (which she has asked to do before); she could escape her heartbreak; she could have an adventure before she goes to AmeriCorps; she could get away from her dysfunctional home.

She could complete her self-destruction.

Rhiannon is so melodramatic. She feels things deeply. She's happy happy happy or she's in the depths of despair. I'm worried about what she might do when she's in those depths.

I have no idea if I should let go or hold on more tightly. What would be best for her?

Letting go, I think. Letting her take a trip to California with people she doesn't even know. Hippie children. Rainbow kids. They'll be living off of handouts and soup kitchens and odd jobs.

Let her go, Charity. And let go of her.

Thursday, December 4, 2003
Rhiannon brought Clark to meet us. I like the fellow. Don was a complete ass. He embarrassed me and Rhiannon by being critical that the guy doesn't have a job. Yes, really. Don. The man who hasn't contributed financially to his family for eleven months. He was critical that Clark doesn't pull his own weight, doesn't conform to society's standards and doesn't have car insurance. How serendipitous that our car insurance bill came yesterday. I'm giving it to Don to pay.

Rhiannon wanted to leave immediately. She felt she couldn't stand it here one more minute. No you can't, I said, but I don't blame her.

Friday, December 5, 2003
Nan's funeral mass. A wonderful experience, as funerals often are. The family gathers from all around. Those there:
• Connie, daughter of her sister Burton and mother of my old buddy Eden. Connie has five kids by five dads.
• Ronaldo, son of her sister Emma Jean with wife Joyce who cared for Emma Jean until she died.
• Rhonda, grandchild of her sister Emma Jean, a real fireball.
• Christine, granchild of her sister Rosalie, who I hadn't met before.

We talked about all the other family members, of course. There are bunches and bunches. Nan had 8 siblings so there are many cousins and second cousins, some we know and some we don't. Read Nan's obit.

Saturday, December 6, 2003
Took Rhiannon to Boulder to meet up with Clark. She's gone. Afterward I cried about the things I forgot to say.

I said, "Don't forget to write," and "Promise to come back."

My mind was so full of last minute worries that I forgot to say, "I love you." I forgot to say "I'll miss you." I forgot to say "I know this adventure will be a great success."

Monday, December 8, 2003
Rhiannon is gone. Rhiannon is gone and Nan is dead. Nan was a vivacious charming incredible person; not the type that is attracted to people like me. My type is invisible to her type. I don't miss her.

Rhiannon I miss. Rhiannon I cry for. Emanuel Swedenborg said the heaven we go to is the one we choose. I choose Rhiannon's heaven. What can I do to be worthy of Rhiannon's heaven?

Tuesday, December 9, 2003
She lied, you know. She always lied. She could never tell me the truth. That's understandable, I suppose. What teenager ever tells the truth when she is getting involved in sex and drugs and self-mutilation and ditching classes? Rhiannon is self-destructing. Of course she couldn't tell me.

Today's connections: Linda and Sam, both co-workers. Linda's daughter is off at college. Linda still cries every now and then but she's getting better. Sam doesn't have kids but he commiserates with me.

I'm surrounded by love, if I would only let it in.

You know what? All I've ever wanted was the wrong thing. I wanted to be a sweet feminine wife to a strong Christian man. Instead I got Don. I wanted to build a strong family. I worked hard at that and was successful except for one thing: my husband. He didn't want a strong family and refused to build one with me. When I started this, 19 years ago, I hadn't realized that when the kids grow up and leave then you are left with NOTHING. I've been duped. I was wrong all along. Family turns to dust, to sand, to ashes.

As I wrote that Kendall, who is 16, came in. She had just finished her math -- 3 hours worth! -- and needed to decompress. I scratched her back while she talked. After a while I said I needed to go take my bath but she said, "Nooooo! We aren't done talking!" So we talked more.

Perhaps my goal of building a strong family was wrong. Perhaps, like Don said, I should be building strong individuals.

Wednesday, December 10, 2003
I dream about Joe sometimes and I torture myself by driving by his new apartment just up our street. Why do I do that to myself?

Because it gives me strong emotion and emotion is what makes you seem alive. There's more, though. It's because I cherish the hope that he'll come out, will be glad to see me, and we'll be friends forever. I know what I'll say if I see him. "So you live on my street now," I'll say. "The universe has the most incredible sense of humor. What a practical joker it is!"

Art class today was wonderful. It's our last one. I've loved getting to know Cole and Lee and Robert and Emma. Drawing is painful but maybe someday I'll be able to call myself an artist.

Thursday, December 11, 2003
A thought: I stayed with Don so the girls would have some interaction with their father. He's been very difficult and moody, though, and Rhiannon doesn't like to be home because of him. So, if she won't ever come home again because her dad's here then I made a huge mistake by staying. If Rhiannon is gone for good then I no longer have to protect the integrity of the family with my silence. The integrity of the family has been breached. And face it, she's gone for good. Even if she's fine and safe and warm and happy, even if she comes back, she's gone for good. I no longer need to protect the family. Now I protect myself.

I had a good day today. Here's how you tell a good day (if you are me):

• You had an important insight, or
  
• You connected with others, or
  
• You enjoyed the outdoors, or
  
• You were productive and got things done, or
  
• You had some excitement, or
  
• You exhibited self-confidence

Today I connected with others, had an important insight and enjoyed some excitement, as follows:

Connection: Shared my concerns about Rhiannon and discussed the joys and sorrows of being a mother with others at our office Christmas party. It was wonderful connecting with others the way I have been able to lately. Rhiannon's departure has forced me to reach out to others for courage and comfort. I talked with Lynn, Linda, Polly and Amy and found I'm not alone.

Insight: While driving home, I pondered something I'd read by Paulo Coelho and realized that every day we choose how we will react to the things that happen to us. We choose how we will feel, how we will act and what we will do. It's not our circumstances that make us happy or sad, it's the way we decide to react to them. It's our choice to be happy or sad. It's our choice to take action or to be passive.

Excitement: As I drove down my street I thought, Someday I'll drive down here and Joe will be there. I'll stop and say hello. We'll talk and then we'll be friends again. I knew without a doubt that it would happen someday when the time was right.

So the time was right tonight. He was there, getting out of his car. I stopped and said hello. We talked. He invited me up. I couldn't, I had to go home. "We've had our issues," I said, "but do you want to try to be friends?" He said yes, he liked talking to me. I'll visit him sometime. Apartment F2.

Friday, December 12, 2003
Now begins the agonizing. Should I go? Shouldn't I go? When should I go? Does he really want to be friends? Can I handle friendship or would I always be wanting him to love me, always wanting to be in his arms and his bed, always feeling insecure because I'm not as beautiful as he? I passed a miserable night last night. I couldn't sleep as I was too excited/upset by the thought of seeing Joe. Is there a word for what I feel? (consults thesaurus) Yes, it's agitated.

If I go, I'll go Sunday. I don't want to seem too eager.

Though it's easier to not bother. Way way way easier. I'm going to forget the whole thing. I'm not going at all.

Okay. Guess who called as I wrote that? He wants me to come tonight. Guess what I said? I said I'd come.

LATER: I popped in to Joe's place around 8:00 and stayed for an hour. We watched TV and chatted. His place is a mess. Imagine living with a slob. He said he worshipped me at our old place of employment. His feelings were so strong that he couldn't possibly talk to me. He'd put the radio on stations that he thought I'd like. He thought I was so beautiful, so perfect. When he found I was unhappy in my marriage I fell in his esteem. He even felt hostility toward me for it, because he'd thought Don and I had the perfect union.

He's probably one of those types you read about in old novels, such as Tess of the D'ubervilles, in which the man pressures the woman for sex and after she gives in despises her. She's no longer pure. It's all HER fault.

He was affectionate. He touched me several times in an affectionate way. "What's this?" I said, removing his hand. I said it was presumptuous. Has he forgotten he said we were incompatible; that he had been grasping at straws? I didn't say that but I wish now I had. Things may have turned out different. We might have dealt with issues.

It was wonderful being with him, talking about our feelings for each other and feeling that incredible chemistry we have, him looking at me with those big brown eyes and 100-watt smile. But you know how I feel about him right now? Like I don't trust him. Who knows what mood swing he'll have next? Probably right now he's regretting our talk and the sweet things he said. I bet I don't hear from him for a month. Or six.

Saturday, December 13, 2003
I awoke this morning with a song on my lips. Literally. I was singing before I got out of bed. Here's why I like Joe: because I'm happy when we are together and that happiness spreads to all areas of my life. My troubles become bearable. My entire life improves. I stop being angry at Don. I'm too happy for anger.

In the evening I went to a Christmas concert by the Broomfield Symphony Orchestra then afterwards out with the orchestra for coffee. Beautiful music. Had a good time.

Sunday, December 14, 2003
A nice day, mostly. I woke up filled with longing for Joe (that shows you what a loser I am). As I lay in bed, my sister called to invite me for breakfast and tea. We had a lot of fun talking, playing with her little ones and looking at cookie recipes. She gave me a plate of Christmas cookies and the movie White Christmas. ("Sisters, sisters, never were there such devoted sisters...")

Around 2:00 I called Joe to say I was going to take the dog for a walk around the block and would he like to come. He said no, he was pooped and was just lying down for a nap but thanks for thinking of him. So then I felt embarrassed and stupid, like I'd been too open and aggressive.

Here's what I think: I think he'll run. We've had three special and intimate times now, and after each of the previous two, he's disappeared. I may not hear from him for months.

I spent the evening reading over my diaries of the past two years in which I yearn constantly for Joe. And here I am, going right back to that kind of behavior. I thought I could be just friends with him but I can't. I want him too badly.

Monday, December 15, 2003
Cookie exchange at work today. I contributed two dozen delicious rich moist brownies, made from scratch using only the best ingredients, covered with a frosting made of chocolate and cream, and sprinkled with crushed candy cane. I received many wonderful cookies in exchange, including fruit cake cookies, ginger cookies, and pineapple macademia nut shortbread. Life is delicious.

Life is also melodious. As I work I'm listening to a CD of my cousin Connie MacNamee, who sings professionally in New York, crooning some jazz tunes. She's great and so's the band.

Tuesday, December 16, 2003
I read something funny about Saddam Hussein's capture. When he emerged from his hidey-hole, he said "I'm Saddam Hussein. I am the president of Iraq and I am willing to negotiate." And then the response from U.S. soldiers was, "President Bush sends his regards."

I was very wrong to think that Joe and I could ever be anything to each other. We can't be friends because he comes on to me when we're together, and we can't be lovers because he doesn't call when we're apart. I was wrong to go over to his apartment and I won't do it again.

Meanwhile Don is trying to be friends but I am rebuffing him. There's no possibility of reconciliation between us as long as he doesn't care to get a job.

Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Today's insight: Who we are depends partly on who we're with.

I'm reading Herman Hesse's Siddhartha. What a pompous, arrogant ass that fellow is. It's all about him, isn't it? I've reached the second to last chapter but Siddhartha has yet to learn humility and love. Further, I don't agree that the study and experience of sex is properly a spiritual path. In real life, sex for sex's sake ignores biological realities, spurns nature's sacred cycle, and leads inexorably to the exploitation of women.

Thursday, December 18, 2003
Today was a very emotional day.

First, I still haven't heard from Rhiannon. It's been almost a week. I've done well thus far in trusting that she is fine, but today I am worried. I've got that sick-to-your-stomach feeling right now. Rhiannon, please be okay.

Second, I had lunch with my old philosophy teacher, Professor Rogers, who I hadn't seen in 20 years. He's approximately 80 now, and the years are beginning to tell on him. We had a great time talking and laughing like we used to so long ago. I asked him my question, "What is the meaning of life?" He said that it is not a good question. It should be individualized: "What is the meaning of life for me?" I told him all my troubles. It was wonderful having such a sympathetic listener. He asked if Don and I do this happy back and forth banter that he and I do. (We don't, and didn't even when we were getting along). I feel as though he's given me my happy girlish self back to me, simply because he knew me back when I was. He saved the memory of me, for me, and gave it back as a gift.

Third: I was sick in the evening, though I think it was a reaction to the emotion of the day. I collapsed in fatigue around 6:00 and dreamed of girls with worms crawling in their hair.

Complete change of subject: Did you know there's a word for "throw out of a window?" (Defenestrate)

Friday, December 19, 2003
Perhaps Rhiannon will be like Siddartha, who left home to follow an ascetic path and neither returned nor sent word to his aging father as to his whereabouts or circumstances.

Had a wonderful evening. Michaela and I went to my sister Tess's and hung out with her family. We helped decorate the Christmas tree, read her new Harry Potter analysis which she hopes to have published, played the computer with the kids, read to them and played played played. It was great. Little Michael, who's almost 2, had a lot to say to me, most of it unintelligible, but he sure is a cutie pie.

Saturday, December 19, 2003
Rhiannon called! We were out Christmas shopping but she left a message. She reports that she's not dead yet. She's still in Taos and is having a wonderful time. She's picked up a new puppy named Nick and is off Monday to California to attend a Rainbow Gathering.

Meanwhile, I'm transitioning from being a mom to being a person. Twenty years ago I had my whole life in front of me. I was graduating from college, about to be married, and the world was my oyster. Now what's in store for me? I asked that question of the Tarot and drew the Six of Wands, which signifies victory and acclaim. What an encouraging card! I take it to mean that success will be mine (once I decide what I'm going to do and work hard at it!)

Sunday, December 19, 2003
Happy day. I took our dog to the Bookworm, a used book store. She got to come in and had a great time looking around and meeting people. Afterword I picked up Kendall from her snowboarding trip and then Michaela and I went to Grandpa's to get ready for Christmas. I helped decorate the tree that Don had brought over while Michaela practiced Christmas music with the band. Emily's on piano, Tommy guitar, Michaela and Grandpa violin and Anne Marie cello. I watched and soaked up the beautiful music.

Monday, December 19, 2003
Lunch with my professor again. We did several things together when I was an undergrad, including hikes, lunches and outings. Stupid and naive of me, I know. He had pretty strong feelings for me. Apparently he had a bit of a thing for twenty-year-olds. He married (and divorced) two of them. I am feeling very uncomfortable right now. I shall have to be authentic. I shall have to say that I don't share his feelings and never did. Well, being authentic is something I should have learned long ago. Time to practice it. If there is ONE THING I should develop in this lifetime, it is the courage to be authentic.

He showered me with books. He wants to take me to Spain. Said he wants to work on improving my mind. He is laboring under the impression that I don't do anything but work and go home to make dinner. I must give him a list of the books I've read and the things I've done since I last saw him.

Wednesday, December 24, 2003
I haven't felt much like doing Christmas this year, except for the present giving part of it. I haven't decorated or baked or done our usual advent readings. The girls wanted a tree, however, so today Don picked up a good Christmas tree for half off. He and the girls put it up and decorated it. In the evening we went to my father's for our traditional Christmas eve celebrations. A couple of my siblings bowed out, opting to begin their own traditions instead. Karen was upset about the change in tradition. Upon hearing of it, she said, "What? That's crap! Then I'm not going!" I still chuckle about that reaction.

Thursday, December 25, 2003
Christmas.

Monday, December 29, 2003
Our 19th anniversary. We did nothing. Scarcely spoke, even, which isn't unusual because we scarcely speak ever. There are things to talk about but I can't. Too painful.

What if I'd had a crystal ball 19 years ago? What if I'd known: "Marry Don and you spend a few years on welfare. You won't be able to stay home with the children. You will go for years without talking to him beyond 'Good morning.' You will go to church by yourself until you finally give up the faith altogether."

I would have been a bit more forceful that he leave me alone.

Tuesday, December 30, 2003
Rhiannon called this evening from a hospital in Silver City, New Mexico. She's got an ear infection, she's broke and she's ready to come home. She's been ready to come home for a while, but every time they head off to the bus station the car breaks down. Rhiannon has been helping pay for repairs and now she has no money left. Grandpa is going down to Albuquerque on New Year's. I told her I'd come too. We'll pick her up together and make a party of it.

Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Turns out Silver City is at least four hours from Albuquerque. I won't go with Grandpa, I'll go by myself and meet up with Grandpa later. I'll leave VERY EARLY tomorrow as it's a ten hour drive. We'll go out to dinner, maybe take in a movie, stay overnight in a motel, then head back to Albuquerque on Friday.

Month of November 2003

Monday, November 3, 2003
The world must have been a magical place for the Greeks and Romans, with every bit of nature peopled by spiritual beings. They had gods for everything. If you needed help, you entreated the god who had charge of that area. Very much like the Catholic saints. Saints are Catholic versions of the gods of antiquity.

Tuesday, November 4, 2003
I just don't see any reason to be alive, other than getting the kids raised. Once that's done there will be nothing left. I enjoy living, but there's no purpose to it. I enjoy lying here on my bed, watching Michaela play the computer and listening to Kendall's music. That's all nice. But there's no purpose to it. No meaning to life. And there's no one to talk to about my feelings. Don is not a thinker. He does very little wondering.

I realized, when walking the dog, that even though there's no reason to live, I didn't want to kill myself. I may be sad, but I enjoy life enough to want to keep living it.

But why is it that I feel most alive when I'm in the depths of despair? Why do I feel most important, if only to myself, when I contemplate suicide? I keep going back there and back there because that intensity of emotion is the only thing that makes me feel worthwhile.

Wednesday, November 5, 2003
I received a compliment today. I had popped into Rhiannon's place of employment to ask her a question I'd forgotten to ask earlier and to which I needed an answer. I went up to the counter and she said, "Hi Momma." A customer asked in surprise if I was her mother. I look like her sister, the customer said. Wasn't that nice? And may I remind you that Rhiannon is 17.

A good day at art class. One of the students brought pics of his tour in Italy. It was a perfect segue to my Leaning Tower of Pisa joke. I'm always happy when I get to tell that joke. My latest work, Still Life with Drapes, is coming along well. You know what? Drawing feels good because when you're concentrating you enter the Zone.

Friday, November 7, 2003
Rhiannon has asked permission to sleep over at a boy's dorm. She'll be 18 tomorrow and feels this is a step in her growing up. Stop snickering. She doesn't mean having sex, she means having trust -- trust from me that she won't be doing things that are bad.

We had a good talk last night about why one shouldn't have sex outside of marriage. STD's, pregnancy, emotional entanglements, etc. Since we aren't a religious family any more, I can't use the "God says not to" argument. It's a handy argument but it is not one that takes much brain power. As a matter of fact all it does is throw the responsibility for thinking onto someone else. If I can't think of any reasons not to other than that one, then perhaps it doesn't matter.

I gave permission, with the stipulation that she sleep in the dorm's guest room. Stay up as long as you want, Rhiannon, but sleep in the guest room.

Kendall's friend Dana will be spending the weekend with us. We should have a nice time.

I'm looking forward to watching McLaughlin Group and Colorado State of Mind tonight. Those are grown-up shows and, at 43, it's time for me to be a grown-up and take an interest in grown-up things.

Saturday, November 8, 2003
Rhiannon's 18th birthday! It's been a fantastic 18 years. I'm so lucky to be her mom. She wanted to take us out for cheesecake on the Pearl Street Mall. We went to BJ's first for pizza, jalapeno poppers and potato skins, then were so stuffed we skipped the cheesecake. Don didn't come. He was tired from working on my Dad's house. Excursions that include him are usually painful affairs so it was fine with me that he stayed home.

Sunday, November 9, 2003
Went to Cave of the Winds with family, including Don, who was able to sustain a good mood for the entirety of the trip even though he had to change my oil before we left. It was pretty dirty and let me tell you, I'm lucky he didn't blow his top and spend ten minutes calling me incompetent. When we got home he napped and watched TV for the remainder of the day. If there's anybody that gets plenty of sleep, it's him. I went grocery shopping, made cookies with little Sarah, did laundry, made dinner and did some uncluttering.

Monday, November 10, 2003
I was overcome with discouragement at art class today after talking to one of my classmates. He mentioned that he has no time for a social life anymore because he is taking two night classes. He usually likes to go out with friends. It was the contrast between us that discouraged me. I have no social life because I have no friends. Nor do I have time for friends. I go home every night so I can be a mom to my kids. Friends have not been a priority. That's why I have none. They haven't been a priority. On the other hand, I have great kids. Kendall and I had a lot of fun goofing off with the dog. Growing a good family has been a priority for me and I am happy to report success.

I'm also happy to report that Still Life with Drapes is looking very impressive. It's predecessor, Cupcakes, is okay.

Wednesday, November 12, 2003
An excellent day, god only knows why. All kinds of things went wrong. First, the Check Site Links utlity in Dreamweaver went wacko. It replaced the content every single page in my 250 page site with the content of the currently open file. Every single page. Two weeks work destroyed in ten minutes. It was -- and is -- nightmarish, unbelievable and surreal. What gives this story a happy ending is that I had a backup.

Second, I popped in to Rhiannon's live journal to see what she's been up to that she tells the world but doesn't tell me. Found out that she's experimented with drugs and alcohol. Her friends got her drunk for her 18th birthday. There was this angry entry about her father, which I copied here.

Third, my Still Life with Drapes, a work with charcoal and chalk which I worked on for hours and which had turned out very well, was ruined when I sprayed it with fixative. The fixative darkened everything by several shades and removed the subtle differences between highlights and shadows. I had been particularly proud of the reflections on the bottle. All gone. There's one bright spot -- the teacher asked me to leave this picture and my Cupcakes picture so she could photograph them to use in her slideshow of examples.

Friday, November 14, 2003
Today I feel really lucky and full and wonderful. I've had a nice talk with my sister Tessa about friendship. She doesn't do the friendship thing very well either, which surprises me because she's a happy little thing. We didn't commiserate, though. She's not a "poor me" kind of person the way I am. We just talked about our issues and personalities matter of factly. She has more children than I and they are younger therefore she has even less time for friendship than I do. She rationalizes it by saying that friends can drag you down. Silly Tessa. Here's something really cool about her: she's writing a book called A Christian Perspective on Harry Potter, in which she defends the HP books.

I'm happy about my plans for the weekend. I'm going to watch McLaughlin Group and Colorado State of Mind. I'm going to make a garb dress for Rhiannon of white brocade and blue satin. I'm going to watch Memento and take notes in the hope of figuring out its secrets. I'm going to work in my Intensive Journal.

Weekend, November 15-16, 2003
Very busy and productive. Got the dress cut out, both fashion fabric and lining. Didn't sew and fit the bodice which I had planned to do Saturday. I worked hard refinishing the entertainment center. Many coats were required and so it's still not done. Didn't watch the TV shows as originally planned because Don was watching a movie with the girls, a good thing. Didn't watch Memento because I hardly had a moment to sit and relax. I did manage to get out of the house, first to a gem and mineral show with the family and then to the movies with Rhiannon where we saw Master and Commander: the Far Side of the World. Did some more Intensive Journal study, plus laundry, meal planning and groceries. Didn't draw. Did meditate.

Oh my gosh, guess who lives on my street? More accurately, guess whose red Saab is continually parked in front of an apartment building on my street and whose brown van is parked out back? Joe's. No kidding. He had mentioned moving to Lafayette to be near his daughter. I haven't seen him yet so there's a chance I'm wrong about him living here. Suppose it's true -- I can't believe it! First he lives in our old house, now he lives on our street. The universe must be playing a cruel joke on him. Ha ha!

Monday, November 17, 2003
Good art class. We did figure drawing today with a real nude model. She was about 50 and her body wasn't terribly attractive in the conventional sense. Her breasts were flat and her stomach protruded. I suppose I'll look like that some day. I wonder if I've got the guts to be an artists model. I should try it!

I feel so funny right now. I wish I could put my finger on what's wrong. I feel like there's something I really want to do, or really want to have, something that would make this moment perfect, but I don't know what it is.

Tueday, November 18, 2003
Had a huge list of things to do after work, but Michaela asked me to help her build her web site so of course I did. She designed it herself and built the graphics too. I showed her how to export the graphics from Photoshop and how to build a table in Dreamweaver to put them all together. We had a nice time and it looks good. She hasn't yet decided where to post the site.

I finally sewed together and fitted the bodice of Rhiannon's Christmas present garb. Did I tell you it's white brocade lined with sky blue and trimmed with gold? That thing is going to be so BEAUTIFUL when it is done!

Thursday, November 20, 2003
I was in grave danger of descending into one of my dark moods this evening after a unsatisfactory interaction with a co-worker. I did okay conversation-wise, but felt powerless and uncentered and so of course I came across that way. It felt awful. I was beginning to despair and pity myself when Kendall and Michaela showed up at my office. From then on for the rest of the evening I had things other than myself to occupy my mind. 1) Kendall needed me to take her to the university library get books on Charles I at the university library. 2) We popped in to see Rhiannon at work and found she had neither showed up nor called. 3) Michaela needed help with her sewing project incuding a bit of redesigning the pattern. 4) I went to my father's to talk and pay bills. 5) Rhiannon finally came home and explained her day.

Sunday, November 23, 2003
Rhiannon was gone all Saturday, what with work and hanging out with friends. She called in the evening to ask permission to sleep over at Beeman's. He wouldn't be there, apparently, but he gave her his key. I said okay. She promised to come home in the morning. Well, she didn't show up till the last bus came through, leaving me to worry about her all day. I had no idea what to do so I consulted my Love and Logic parenting book. They reminded me that we are raising our kids to go out on their own and when they feel they are ready, we need to let them go. So when Rhiannon got home, I told her I just couldn't go on like this, having to worry about her all day. I thought it would be best if she got her own place.

I've actually been wanting her to get her own place for a while now, but didn't think it was a workable idea because she's leaving for AmeriCorps in January. So we'll see. Maybe we can find one for her for two months.

Monday, November 24, 2003
Big argument with Don this morning. It was a wide ranging argument that started when I told him I thought Rhiannon should move out. He was upset that I didn't consult him, that I never consult him, I shut him out. My point of view is that 1) he's generally unavailable so I can't ask him and 2) when he is around and I ask him for an opinion he says "I don't know." Then we moved on to how I never help him when he asks me. That's true, I don't. I'm already supporting his sorry ass and that's all I want to do for him. Besides, he has told me clearly and forcefully how unhappy he has been with my work in the past and this has destroyed all desire on my part to do any work for him in the future. Then we discussed money. He says that money is all I care about; it's all I've ever cared about; I don't care about him; his role was to provide spermatzoa and money. Hmmmmm. I suppose that is one way of looking at it. I'd say, rather, that his role was to be a loving father and husband and provider so I could stay home with the kids. He also said I was rude to his friends and have a very bad attitude about pot. It's true. I'm not very warm to his friends when they phone. They call and ask for David, I say curtly, "I'll get him" and that's that. And I think pot-smoking is a dirty filthy habit.

And I'm starting to act like him. I'm starting to be mean to him, the way he has been to me. He used to say, sometimes, "I should be nicer to you." Now I can say that to him.

I think I'd like him to leave. Divorce is going to be incredibly painful but I'd rather have that than live with someone who despises me as much as Don does.

I'm going down, down into the depths of despair. I feel it coming. I look into the future and what do I see? Loneliness and isolation. Don despises me. My children will grow up and will go on to their own troubles. They won't have any time or compassion for mine. My father will die and then there will be no one who cares for me.

I've loved being a mom but will it have been worth it? I gave up my life to raise three kids that I love very much. Raising them was life for me. Life and breath and sunshine and sweetness. There won't be anything when they are gone.

Tueday, November 25, 2003
What an emotional rollercoaster yesterday was! Don and I haven't discussed our argument. We never do. We just ignore them until they go away, cowards that we are. He said in the argument I don't accept him the way he is (I don't like it that he is a non-religious unemployed pot head) but you know what? He misrepresented himself when he was courting me. He was a Christian then, wore ties and wasn't getting high. I had no idea he was a doper or that he'd drop the church and take up his habit later.

But that's okay. I'm an atheist now, which is a good thing. I never would have left the faith if it weren't for Don's mistreatment of me. So you see, all things DO work for the good . . . (That's an ironic joke of sorts. It's from scripture, the full text of which read "All things work for the good of them that are called to His service.")

Art class yesterday was great. I had lots of fun joking and talking with my classmates and I made good progress on Nude Reclining with Rocks.

Saturday, November 29, 2003
I saw Joe while I was out walking the dog. He drove by in his red Saab just as I emerged from an alley. We saw one another but didn't make any sign of recognition. Asshole. Slimeball. I knew he lived on my street.

Month of October 2003

Wednesday, October 1, 2003
We had an Oktoberfest party at work and I had a very nice time talking with the other people at our table. I held my own and had things to say. Makes a nice change!

Today was a good day, a happy day. On days like this I feel like I've got things figured out and I wonder how I ever could have been down.

Kendall and Rhiannon rode with me into town this morning. It's so funny the way they tease each other. They do it like boys do, calling each other names as a sign of affection. "You're stupid." "You're ugly." "You smell bad." After these simple ones they get creative. They are both happy and it's very amusing to listen to. I don't allow them to tease Michaela this way though. She does not think it is funny. She takes it personally and gets angry and hurt. They aren't allowed to say those things to me, either.

Don's been working the past few days. Apparently he's got a job up at Bill's. He's not working so that he can help meet the family's expenses, however. He's working so he can pay his own bills. He has to pay his fuel bill and for storage for the many many car parts that he owns. I wish he cared whether his kids had enough to eat. I'm angry every day and I'll always be angry. It angers me that he lives at home like an overgrown teenager with no responsiblities to anyone but himself.

Thursday, October 2, 2003
Nice day. I enjoy life. Now, how can I ratchet the excitement level up a couple notches? To do that, I need someone to do things with. Life is exciting with Rhiannon because she enjoys life and likes having fun. I can't have fun with my husband; he's pretty much a stick in the mud. Around me, anyway. He does like hanging with his friends. Tonight he stayed up at Bill's for three hours after work; came home at 9:00 happy. When he walks in the house with a smile on his face it usually means he's stoned. He's generally not too happy otherwise.

Rhiannon and I watched Spanish for Gringos, a fun little beginning Spanish video. Kendall heard us laughing and shouting and came out to join the fun. Afterward, Rhiannon and I recited poetry at one another. She won 'cause she's got Dr. Seuss's The Lorax memorized while I could only think of "In Flanders Fields" and the beginnings of "Xanadu" and "The Cremation of Sam McGee."

I did not push myself to talk to people at work today. I stayed in my cubbie.

Saturday, October 4, 2003
I woke up this morning thinking 'Man, life sucks when you don't have any friends.' It'd be great to go hang out somewhere, go explore the area, but who do I do it with? I have always had a hard time making friends because I'm shy. The friends that I have made I haven't kept up with. I got busy being a mom and I let other relationships go. Now here I am, the kids almost grown, ready to enter the world of adults again but I've got no one.

Sometimes I think 'I can do this, I can make new friends.' Other times I think it is hopeless. Like I said, I've never been good at it. I don't really know how.

On a different note, I took Kendall, Michaela and Michaela's friend Annie to an SCA lampworking workshop. We had the best time. Lampwork is working with glass over a flame. You heat up the end of a glass cane till it's molten then fashion it into something. We made beads by wrapping the glass around a metal rod. Michaela loved it and wants to buy a lampworking kit, on special now for $99 at Hobby Lobby. She'll sell handmade beaded bracelets to her friends. I think it's a great idea.

Sunday, October 5, 2003
Rhiannon went with me to Albertson's when we went to pick up her prescription. The store was having a special on Celestial Seasonings tea -- ten boxes for ten dollars. Rhiannon went crazy throwing box after box into our cart. We bought around 20 boxes. She loves that tea.

Later we went to Grandpa's. He had a birthday gift to give Michaela so we had a small informal belated birthday celebration for her. We also watched the Monk show we had taped on Friday. What a great show that is.

Back home, I finished my drawing homework while Don watched the Cubs/Braves game. He said," Do you know that 42% of women are sexually dysfunctional?" I said I wondered how many men are abusive. Then he talked about how women won't give sex unless they are given things, like diamond rings and vacation cruises. They have what men need, he said, but they won't give it unless men spend money on them. I wonder what he's talking about. Does he mean he's met someone but she's holding out on him? Or is he referring to me? We're not having sex but it is not diamond rings I want. It is financial contribution to the family. Currently his contribution is zero dollars a month. Meanwhile he thinks all I care about is money. What a clueless idiot. What I care about is keeping a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs. It is impossible for me to be sexually attracted to a man who would let the bank take away our house.

We're not having sex because 1) his eyes glaze over when I put more than two sentences together, 2) he despises me for my weaknesses, 3) every now and then he blows up and tells me how awful I am, and 4) he flat out refuses to provide for his family. Oh, and also 5) he doesn't like our children all that much. They annoy him.

I suppose I should have taken him aside to talk but talks are so painful these days that I avoid them.

Anyway, the kids and I stayed up late reading poetry to one another and talking. I cried while reading Amy Lowell's Patterns. I cry whenever anything's the least bit sentimental. My kids are probably very tired of it, poor dears. Have I mentioned that they are great kids and I am crazy about them? If only they'd keep their rooms clean.

Monday, October 6, 2003
I popped in to see Rhiannon at the thrift store where she works and she told me the most encouraging story. Apparently, the other day when I went over to pick up her giant potted plant, some gentleman saw me, thought I was hot and asked who I was and if I had a boyfriend. Cool, huh? It's so nice to know someone was attracted to me. No messing around for me, though; I'm married. (Joe was a fluke that won't happen again.)

I am having the worst time remembering to put up my parking permit. I have received six tickets so far this year. My employer will forgive three a year then we're on our own. In addition to being forgetful, I've been very lax about getting the tickets taken care of and so today they towed my car. It was tremendously inconvenient and expensive too: $130 for the towing/impound fee and $80 for the tickets. I think I'll cancel the permit and start taking the bus. The bus pass is a free employee benefit while the permit costs $35/month. It will take me six months to make back the money I spent today. I only wish there were someone to blame besides myself.

Don was mostly helpful during this crisis. He drove me up to Parking Services. Once there he lost his temper and called me a bitch because -- I'm not really sure why. I called him an asshole and reminded him of the time he told the bank officer to fuck off.

Rhiannon came home at eleven -- her curfew -- and she and I and Kendall sat on my bed chatting about the day while I scratched their backs. Decompressing, I call it.

Tuesday, October 7, 2003
Went up to SCA fighter practice to pick up our lampwork beads. I just don't think the SCA is for me. More and more I am coming to think it's ridiculous to dress up and pretend to be someone you're not. I wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen doing other things I enjoy -- ice skating, dancing, playing the violin, horseback riding -- but I am definitely embarrassed to be seen dressed in garb.

It's kind of funny I feel this way. I was so excited about it at the beginning: excited about making garb, excited about cooking medieval food, excited about learning songs to sing in bardic circle. And look how many times I've taken the kids camping this year -- three! And I never took them camping before.

Thursday, October 9, 2003
Don did some work around the house today for a change. He did a bit of laundry, washed some of the dishes and mowed the lawn. Now that I'm writing I see it wasn't that much. I do that much every Saturday. Well, okay, I don't mow the lawn. But I do groceries and laundry and oversee chores and take the kids clothes shopping and make lunches and dinners.

Just half a year ago I was crazy in love with Joe. I wanted him so badly. When he spoke, my troubles were bearable. But now I'm disgusted. I feel like I was lied to and you know what? I also lied to myself.

Friday, October 10, 2003
Hey, that cute guy from the down the hall just walked by my office. He's a doll and it gives me a mild thrill to see him. Unfortunately he only works Fridays now so I don't get that thrill much.

Saturday, October 11, 2003
I always stuggle to keep the dark away. It's always right there, just below the surface, ready to seep through.

Maybe I should let it.

What is life all about? I don't want to get older and older and then die without knowing.

Sunday, October 12, 2003
Very very difficult day. Don and I had a painful fight.

Apparently everything I do is tremendously annoying. I don't know how the guy can stand me. I start things and don't finish them. I haven't hemmed the curtains and that angers him. I don't wipe out the sink when I've finished washing dishes. I do things that don't matter like making garb for the SCA. I like fiction and he thinks it's ridiculous. I'm doing a horrible job with the kids.

He doesn't like talking to me; I don't know what to say to him; I'm too quiet. I'm too flighty. Nothing about me is good. I'm dumb and stupid. I don't belong in society. I can't keep the house neat. I'll never get anywhere in life. I don't have any friends, I don't know how to have friends. And a person who doesn't have friends is a hopeless loser. That's me. A hopeless loser. But I don't like people anyway so what does it matter. They scare me. Deep down I'm afraid of people.

And the kids. They don't keep their rooms neat or do anything constructive and of course that reflects on me as a mother. I'm a failure as a mother. The one thing I love most in the world I'm failing at.

You know what? I don't think that life has any meaning. There's only one purpose at all that I can see and that is loving relationships. And since I don't have those and never will because I'm not capable of them then there is no reason for me to live, is there? I think I'll end it all when the girls have grown and gone. They won't need me anymore; they probably won't even love me anymore. They will probably despise me for my faults the way their daddy does. Like I did with my mother. I resented her because she didn't love me.

He said he was going to leave as soon as he had the money. He said I don't care about him. He said I never loved him. Not true. What is true is that I have been in self-preservation mode these past five or six years, brought about by his verbal abuse, heavy criticism and financial abandonment. He probably doesn't think those things are bad enough for me to be upset about. He thinks I should forgive and forget.

Tuesday, October 14, 2003
Don and I are being civil, even friendly, toward one another. I think our fight scared us both. We haven't talked about the issues raised. We never do. That's our pattern and a very unhealthy one it is.

Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Boy was I wrong. We're not better. He has been being nice but it's not because he doesn't want us to break up. I went down to talk to him last night, something I usually don't do because I'm prefer to avoid confrontation, especially confrontation that is likely to be very painful for me, the way talks with Don usually are.

He was honest. And right. He said we don't have the same goals so why should we stay together. Good point. I have to admit I thought that myself. Then we went on to discuss some of the ways I have failed and how our problems are all my fault. Pretty standard stuff. That's generally what our talks consist of. He's not interested in my side.

Also, he said I'm supposed to tell him to back off when he starts having one of his tantrums instead of letting him rant on and on about how much he doesn't like me. So when he rips me to shreds, that's my fault too.

He's right about the goals thing. We don't have the same goals. He wouldn't tell me what his are, but I know right now that they don't interest me and I don't want to work by his side helping him reach them. Neither do my goals interest him. Further, we have little in common and don't enjoy the same things.

So how did we get together in the first place? Because he took it into his head that he wanted me. He pursued me relentlessly until I gave in. Twice he suggested we go steady but I turned him down because I didn't think we were right for each other. He kept after me until I was convinced that he loved me and that we could work through our differences.

Now, 20 years later, my dreams of a strong spiritually-centered family are shriveled and dead.

Thursday, October 16, 2003
God, I am so angry. I am angry at Don's ridiculous persistance and inability to take no for an answer. It has ruined my life. Here I am, 20 years later, having to rebuild because he wouldn't go away when I told him to. 20 years lost.

Today is a really really bad day for me. Lots of tears. No reason to live. Thoughts of suicide. I am a complete non-entity so it doesn't really matter. No wonder I have such difficulties with social issues. There's no one here.

Parent/teacher conferences this evening. Kendall is doing well with A's in most of her classes. Michaela is doing poorly. D's and F's in most of hers. She has many missing assignments. Her teachers said she'd be getting A's if not for that. I've made up a list of the missing stuff. She has one week to get it completed then she loses all computer privileges.

After a difficult and emotional day, the evening turned out well. I saw several people I knew at parent/teacher conferences -- Carly's mom, Laurel's parents, Alice Thomason. I enjoyed catching up with them and I learned an important lesson -- it feels so good to have known people for a long time. As the years go by, we should be accumulating friends. I'll say that again so it sinks into my anti-social brain: As the years go by, we should be accumulating friends.

I'll tell you a secret, after which you can despise me for being such a loser: I want people to like me but I'm afraid of them and I don't have any friends. That's my deepest darkest secret that I don't tell anybody. I want people to like me but I'm afraid of them and I don't have any friends. I wish I had a husband that was sympathetic to me and helped me overcome my difficulties, not a mean one like the one I have now.

Saturday and Sunday, October 18-19, 2003
I began work on the High School Steppingstone Period in my Intensive Journal. I am so thankful that I saved my journals from that time. I've been re-reading them and am surprised that things are different than I remember. I remember myself as being a shy timid little mouse who scarcely spoke to anyone. The truth is not nearly so awful. I actually did have friends and I did have some excitement. Yes, I was too shy to talk to Dennis and Mike and that's too bad, especially considering the crushes I had on them and they on me. But I had friends in the form of Kendra and Gro and Carleen and Carrie. I was probably too self-conscious and low in self-esteem to be a really good friend to them, but I wasn't completely lonely and out in the cold.

Monday, October 20, 2003
Except for the lesson, art class today was excellent. The teacher did a very poor job of explaining negative space but luckily I have had that lesson before. The examples she showed did nothing to clarify the concept and her critique of our work at the end also praised pen and ink work and the use of value. I'm happy to report that my work, a white basket with flowers against a black background, was praised as a good example of positive and negative space.

Tuesday, October 21, 2003
I am having the most wonderful time reading my old journals. I wasn't so scared and friendless as I thought. I feel strong and happy.

I'm constantly angry with Don because he won't get a steady job. Michaela needs glasses -- that will cost several hundred dollars. Christmas is coming up -- several hundred more dollars. College expenses are right around the corner. I'm angry all the time.

Thursday, October 23, 2003
A bit of a mix-up this evening with picking up Kendall from school. Tonight was the school's Art and Music Extravaganza. Kendall was there showcasing her current art project -- a bowl of fruit with faces. Don agreed to pick her up at 8:45. She called me after school to ask if she could sleep over at a friend's instead of coming home. She wouldn't need a ride home after all. I couldn't get ahold of Don to relay this info; he had disappeared for the evening. I ended up having to go up to the school myself to head him off. I hung around for about 45 minutes walking the halls, looking outside, listening to the program and talking to Kendall. He never showed so we finally left, she to her friend's and me home. What's weird is that he came home at 10:30 and said he'd been waiting up there for her for an hour and a half. Turns out he never came inside. He spent the time hiking around on the trails outside the school. He figured Kendall would look through the parking lot for his car and thereby know he had arrived. How does that make sense as a way to pick someone up?

My latest negative space project, Sunset with Aspens, turned out pretty good. I masked out the aspens then covered the paper thickly with crayon, using an iron to set the wax. (Note to self: use a very low setting next time since crayon melts so quickly.)

Sad news: my paternal grandmother Nanna is dying. She's in a hospital down in Dade County, Florida, with her daughter my aunt. She has fluid build-up in her lungs and is expected to go at any time. She'll be buried here in Colorado next to my mother. My father is flying down today.

Friday, October 24, 2003
You know, I really like my job. I enjoy working on HTML. It's not really difficult or technical so I betray my lack of ambition in confessing my enjoyment of it but there it is. I do enjoy it.

SCA monthly revel tonight. I wasn't going to go, as I've decided not to do SCA anymore. However, Briana called and asked me to be the liaison for the conference room. No one else could do it; I was their last hope. So of course I said yes. Kendall came with me and together we worked on her Halloween costume. She's making a big bunny suit. I went over and made conversation with a few people, but the only one to come over to talk to us was our baron. Those people just aren't friendly. Kendall made an interesting comment -- she said they seemed like the immature kids at high school.

Saturday, October 25, 2003
Don did a lot of chores around the house today. Pretty unusual. He probably felt he was doing me a favor rather than doing his job. We're getting along okay. We still don't talk, so things probably seem better than they really are.

Sunday, October 26, 2003
I'm having a wonderful time working in my Intensive Journal. Today's realization was somewhat depressing, unfortunately. I realized I haven't changed much since high school. Sure, I'm more competent in several areas, but deep down I'm still the same person. I'm still afraid, still lonely yet reluctant to connect, still kinda lazy, still watching the excitement happen instead of making it happen. I desperately need to change, but how?

Wednesday, October 29, 2003
I've decided to contact my old philosophy professor. Perhaps he can tell me What It's All About. I hope he is doing well.

I think I would like a divorce. Life with Don is bleak.

Art class was good. I'm doing well in there, both artistically and socially. People listen when I talk. I told a short story, favorably received, about the time I saw Michelangelo's Pieta.