2001:November:26
2001


THE NEXT DAY...
So I had a fabulous Sunday. It was just what I needed. I didn't get in a car once, but rather I tooled around the house and did nothing. I walked around the neighborhood loving my life and having a great time. I hope that you don't think that I hate my parents and think they are arseholes for wanting to stay as long as they did. I learned a lot from their and my sister's visit. I don't think they are bad people, I just think they are very different from me. (Not to be toooo arrogant, but I think one of the keys to their misery is that they won't let themselves express it or even acknowledge it - and OH I could write a saga of daughter/mother spew, but I don't really feel anything right now). It felt so indescribably nice to walk around my house in my messy hair and messy clothes and listen to music and read my Farscape book and People and Cosmo. If my parents hadn't wanted to visit, it's not as if I would have painted the Mona Lisa in my spare time. Oh yes, I would have been soooooo pissed had they stayed a long time on Sunday, but they didn't, and I got to recharge my batteries amply. Today is rather a hard Monday, but my heffe hasn't arrived yet, and I have a few moments to write a lil'. My lover was sooooo adorable in the bed (and I'm lazy as they come), so you figure out whether I went to my biology lecture class at 8am on Monday.

Today is another recharge day for me. My body is the only thing that will be present at anything today until I get home to my loving environment. Truly, that ceramic Christmas tree is the only Christmas decoration I'm putting up this year, and it is such a "just right" thing. I have it on the table when you arrive in my home (in front of my grandmother's huge mirror), so it is reflected by three mirrors (the kitchen, the granmama, and the small mirror above the "buffet"). Ahhhhhh. There is not much that I can't endure if I have such an aesthetically pleasing life. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is powerful. Guests and fish start to smell after... Ha ha. Just kidding.

It seems like light years ago, but I also wanted to apologize to those of you who I know. Mark pointed out that these words would almost be compelling for someone who knows me, and that that in itself should be understood by me and therefore I should realize that this is (in a small way I hope) a passive/aggressive vehicle for me. Previously, I had allowed myself to get indignant when people actually RESPONDED to things I wrote on this forum. After all, I had asked anyone who knew me to quit reading if such was the case. Butt hell, I would most likely read (who am I kidding? I would read) any words that Karen, Dagmar, Jill, or somesuch would have written were the roles reversed... so alas. I suppose I can either quit writing this (internal screams of agony) or buck up and stand by what I say. I really don't have any internal lessons on my plate right now, so the only "material" I'm willing to write about is about you and how I relate to you and how I see you. I do hope you understand; however, that this is not necessarily some deep, abiding feeling that I'm finally letting spill over the pot into "deal with it" land. Mostly, it's just me tapping away on the keyboard and recounting my past and commenting on it.

Sha la la la la la live for today. OH YEAH! Mark had one of those moments last night. He had an "I can die right now" I'm so happy moment. Dudes, it's so simple once you realize that it's all in your head. (At least from my arrogant, postulating point of view.) Now watch everything fall to shit and then let's see how "isn't it all so beautiful" I am.

Now off to do research on Rachel Hunter.





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