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Moderation In Nothing

There is space between total permissiveness and strict self-denial. I can't seem to find it. I decided yesterday that it would be a good idea to restrict myself. For the next seven days I won't buy sweets or ice cream from the grocery store. This doesn't mean that I won't consume any, or that I can't buy any, just that I won't be buying it from any grocery store. And I didn't make it an endless activity, just seven days. Easy, right? No problem, right? Well, when I wrote it into my calendar I had a physical reaction against the idea. My chest tightened up and my stomach clenched and I felt very rebellious and angry and put upon.

What the hell? I've been sick, I've been tired, I haven't been working out. It's a good idea to do something for my general health. But there's a big part of me that says NO! and runs yelling from the room. And gets cranky. I've been easily upset and selfish and short with my brother.

So where's the median? Where's moderation? My body says "I'm still sick and scared and tired, and this makes me feel better." So I think perhaps I should push the seven days back a couple of weeks.

2:42 p.m. - 2007-02-02

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Shut It

I was just accepted into a statewide photographic competition. I could win $500. I could win $100. I will have my photograph on the wall for a month. The reception's this friday...anyone want to come?

So I've been working on this project, this selfportrait-a-day thing, and for my alternative photo class I've decided to make a book of solvent transfers of the things. It's turning out to be much more time-eating than I expected. The transfers alone are taking hours and hours, and I still have to hand-write the dates and locations of each photograph. I've decided to only do forty of the 100 photos I have so far. The first page will be some sort of explaination of the project; why I'm taking the photographs, why I'm transfering, why a book, etc. So I was thinking. I'm not so much good with the thinking in concrete terms. I can wander the universe in my mind, but ask me to write it down and get it to make sense, and it's a little more difficult.

I started the project because I thought it would be fun, but it quickly became more about myself, the distortion of myself, and my vision of myself. I can use the phone camera to distort how I look, to make my face look better (thinner) than it does. Then the fact that it's on the internet makes it a further distortion, then printing it out changes the colors and contrast, and finally transfering it really removes it from what it was originally. Originally it was my face. Now it's a mess of color and markings on a paper, in a book. And when I need to, I can take all of that distortion and just shut it.

3:52 p.m. - 2007-01-30

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Hand and Egg

3:51 p.m. - 2007-01-30

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Trainwrecks

I've been getting a lot of smiles today. I did blow dry my hair and I am wearing mascara, so I guess it's inevitable...but still. Strange to have so many in a row. I guess I'm just too hot to pass up today.

The week of sick is over, I think. I'm still worn out, but no more hacking up of lungs or struggling to breathe. This morning my throat was sore, but not so bad that it woke me up early and often. So, yay. Feeling better. Time to get some work done.

I was on my way to therapy this morning when a segment of Radical Acceptance slipped into the rotation of my music shuffle. Suddenly in my ear was "in the archtypal story of the hero slaying the dragon, the hero never just goes and slays the dragon. First he refuses the call, avoids it, trains and prepares, seeks the advice of spiritual guides, and perhaps aquires an invisible shield or a magic sword." After the segment, Sarah came on and started singing about trainwrecks waiting to happen.

12:45 p.m. - 2007-01-29

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Sick

Hi. I'm sick. Please send ice cream, Airborne, and the sandman.

4:26 p.m. - 2007-01-23

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Please

Love the whole world as a mother loves her only child. � The Buddha

2:30 p.m. - 2007-01-16

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The Closest Library

It's been one of those quiet days where you know you should clean your room but you're content just to lie on your mess of a bed and watch movies on your computer all day. And then just a few minutes before you know it's going to close, you run to the nearest library to check your email. And even though you know it might be closed before you get there you go anyway, knowing the walk will be the most movement you've had all day besides the short walk down the hall to the bathroom.

Every once in a while it feels like the beginnings of a panic attack, and I take a deep breath and look around me and the feeling goes away.

5:11 p.m. - 2007-01-13

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Snow Day

It's a snow day. I've had to shake off snow every time i walk into a new building, even if they're right next to each other. It's perfectly fine with me that it's a snow day, because I happen to love snow. Also because I woke up too late to take a shower, and the hat is hiding the grease bomb that is my hair. So fortuitous.

I'm beginning to calm down after the rush of the new semester. I'm going to create a checklist that includes each class so I can stop worrying about one class while I'm working on another. It's so easy for my mind to just run all over the place and drive me crazy, and I say enough of that! I've dropped a class, which means that if they don't offer it in the summer (and I don't find that out until later), I'll be here for the fall semester and will need to push everything back. I'm trying not to think about it...trying to remind myself that time is just time and that what matters is that I'm happy. And I know that if I had kept that class, with its extra work and worry, I wouldn't have been happy this semester and would have increased my chances of doing badly in the other classes. So we take a deep breath, we acknowledge the fear and greet it with love and kindness, and we let it go.

12:53 p.m. - 2007-01-11

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New Roommate

There's someone in my house. The Baby Brother was taken to jail last weekend (on a traffic warrant and for taking a boot off of his wheel...which really I can't blame him for) and n. and mom and I talked him into leaving his lame-duck existance down south and moving up with j. and myself to get things started. It's a lots of big happenings at once make everything easier sort of situation.

So now he's there and I'm forcing myself to act natural.

:::

School started today and I feel a little like a bomb's about to go off. All this stuff needing to be done and me feeling totally overwhelmed by it all. I'm trying to practice a few sacred pauses, a little grounding, a little comfort, but there's still a rock on my chest. I may have to put off moving to Chicago because of a few issues I'm having, and that's a killer. Everyone cross your fingers for me.

5:54 p.m. - 2007-01-08

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Somehow

1.5.07 12:26 am
I'm a mystery to myself. This is very likely because I choose to be. It takes a while for me to get from recognition of a problem to realizing what's causing the problem. Simple things could take a week, more complicated stuff takes much longer. Figuring out that I'm not updating because I don't like writing in the car outside the library using the free wireless is a much quicker process than, well, unravelling the reasons I don't date. So...I'm not writing because I don't like writing in the car, and now I'm sitting on my bed typing this into my stickies (let's all share some mac love, shall we?) and hating that I can't have the instant gratification of seeing it on my page while also checking my flickr and every other possible avenue of outside connection. I love instant gratification. It plays so well into my attentiondeficit lifestyle.

I got a great catalog today. I get a lot of them because of the annoying system of selling information, and I usually just call the 800 number on the back and have my name removed the instant I get the damn things, but this one is fantastic. The cover design alone was enough to make me happy. I want. I folded over six corners, but there's actually something on almost every page that I wouldn't mind owning. But while I usually just think about how when I have a little cash wouldn't it be nice to maybe get this thing or that thing, this time all I could think about was saving every penny I have for when I move. Because I am moving to Chicago, and I am going to be on my feet as quickly as possible when I get there. J.w. has offered her home for when I get there, and she's an amazing angel for doing it, too. But I love having my own place, and I hate that feeling of being in someone else's space. Besides, I want to bring the cat along as soon as possible, and I need to be planted in order to do that.

I'm going to live in Chicago. Of course the first thing on the priority list is getting that diploma in my clutching, desperate, determined little hands, but right up there next to it is making a successful go of my life afterwards. One of the truest things anyone has ever said about me was that I was a stubborn and determined woman and that I don't stop until I get the thing I truly want. There are a few things I truly want, and one of them is to work hard at something I love in a way that makes me financially stable and successful. I want, with all my heart, to be able to take care of myself. And I'll do it, too. Somehow.

4:18 p.m. - 2007-01-06

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I Have This Problem With Guns

I went shooting yesterday. Now, I have a big problem with guns, and the swarm of them that fill this nation, but a friend of mine invited me to go shooting and I did. She's recently become obsessed with guns and went ahead and got her concealed carry permit and a couple of guns; a 22 and a shotgun. A shotgun? Yes. A big, black, scary-sound-when-you-pump-it shotgun. I don't know. So she asked if I wanted to go to the range with her the other day, and I started thinking. There are lots of guns. I don't own a gun, but the chance of my having to protect myself with one is actually plausible. It's better to know than not, right?

So she showed me how to load it and aim it and un-jam it and made me promise never to actually point it at a person, and guess what? I'm actually a really great shot. My first time shooting and I clustered my bullets (scary bullets!) right around the targets. The people who run the place were shocked and said I would probably be able to compete in marksmanship competitions with a little practice.

The only problem is that I have a problem with guns. I probably won't ever actually shoot one again. Still...very interesting experience.

PS ��� Made the Dean's List again this semester. Yay!

3:45 p.m. - 2006-12-29

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Gosh I Think You're Lovely

If I had my way, I would have spent Christmas riding around in a golden sleigh wearing long red robes. I wouldn't actually go anywhere, though. I would just float in the sky with my feet up on the dash eating ice cream and watching movies. Instead, I had my mother's way (the one where I do what everyone else wants me to) and rode around in an old beat-up grey car delivering presents with my father.

There are gifts I wish I had given but can't afford, and then there are the ones I wish I had given but couldn't force myself to get off my ass and finish. I think "after christmas" is the best time for gifts. Less tension and pressure to give the perfect thing. It's not a christmas gift then, it's just a "gosh I think you're lovely" gift. My favorite kind.

12:58 p.m. - 2006-12-26

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The Sweetest Girl Ever

My niece came home from the hospital today. I can breathe again.

11:26 p.m. - 2006-12-14

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I did it again...

11:07 p.m. - 2006-12-14

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Nude

I didn't feel naked. It was warm and I felt safe and in control, and I decided it was really the getting naked that makes you feel naked, not the actually being naked. Since I was wearing a robe and the thing comes off in a second, it wasn't even as stressful as tearing off a bandage. It helped that I've been on the other side of the easels, and I know that when an artist is staring straight at your nipple, s/he's really just thinking about how this line intersects with that line and how far away is that curve from the other. Highlights and marks, how thick this and how thin that. I felt only a little judgement, and I realized quickly that it was coming from inside, not outside.

It's strange, how suddenly all of your focus can bear down on one part of your body and suddenly you're so worried that it's going to move and ruin the whole thing...and then because you're so focussed on it, it does move. I sat for thirty minutes at a time, and it became a bit of a meditation for me. The sound of the charcoal and paints kept me fascinated long enough to make it to the five minute break.

I'm glad I did it, and I'm going to do it again.

11:20 p.m. - 2006-12-12

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SS in the Hospital

My niece is in the hospital with two viruses that are never seen together and which are a deadly combination. She has croup (noun: inflammation of the larynx and trachea in children, associated with infection and causing breathing difficulties) and some other virus that causes inflammation of the lungs, and the doctor says she's quite the little innovator. She's in a hospital room with a big stop sign taped to the door, which is one step away from the tent. No one but my brother and his wife and the doctor are allowed inside. If she's feeling even a little bit okay she smiles and talks, which endears her to the entire staff. Seriously, this child is the most adorable thing you've ever seen.

They're keeping her one more night and then possibly sending her home tomorrow...

2:37 p.m. - 2006-12-10

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YAY!

So...the semester's over. It took a while to hit, but when it finally did I started laughing and couldn't stop. So much stress! And I held it and pet it and squeezed it and never let it go.

Must really stop doing that.

6:16 p.m. - 2006-12-08

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For Sale

In case anyone's interested, this photograph is for sale. It's about 14" x 18" on a 16x20 sheet of glossy silver paper. In case you know what this is, it's also toned in selenium. Send me an email if you have questions. If you buy one of my photographs I am obligated to love you forever, so I recommend getting right on that.

(Image hosted on flickr)

Custom matting and framing is also available for those of you who are lazy. :)

6:36 p.m. - 2006-12-06

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And To Them I Say...

This is totally not worth it. I mean sure, it's nice to look "pretty" and all, but on a regular day it would take me an hour to get ready if I had to do this, and I don't have the energy or the inclination to put all this effort into looking good. Makeup alone is sometimes more than I'm willing to do. I wake up, shower, put on mascara, and walk out the door. I don't even wait for my hair to dry unless it's cold enough outside to freeze it. Hair breaking off because the water on it is frozen...not so much fun. But to do this I have to shower, dry my hair, put it in curlers, do my makeup, brush it out and put product in it, and that all takes waaaayyyy too long.

I know there are some women out there who take even longer than that to get ready, and to them I say you must stop it right this minute. You must stop it and then you must go do research on how much money the 'beauty' companies make by telling you that your face as it is just isn't enough. There are bad people out there who have a vested interest in making you feel bad about yourself, and they're selling it to us as some sort of standard of beauty and it's all crap.

Sorry...ranting. I need to hear this just as much as anyone else. Well, maybe not, considering I don't spend an hour on my face every day. Still, I spend much more than that mentally berating my face, and my body, and the way I walk, and my smile, and everything else.

It's funny. Men don't have to put hardly any effort into how they look. They just have to do the minimum, which is showering and occasionally getting a haircut. Maybe shaving. And all we ask of you is that you not hate yourselves. Which is apparently more difficult than one might think. I just had my profile deleted (again) from the singles site, and i was thinking back to the guys I've met from the site, and I'm really not happy. The one overriding character flaw was self-hate. And to them I say you must stop it right this minute.

5:59 p.m. - 2006-12-06

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Tactile Memories

I remember. I can look at a photograph I've taken and usually remember exactly what was happening and how I felt when it was taken.

This photo was taken at one of the many man-made lakes in this state, on a picnic with my family. It was cold and windy, and the sand was really rough on my feet. It was almost impossible to walk in. My sister's son was there (she was deployed), and he wasn't very comfortable. He didn't know us, really. I know the feeling. I asked him if he wanted to take a photo and handed him my fancy camera, which he just stared at. I helped him hold it up and look through the viewfinder, and he smiled and said "can I move it to another spot?" I said he could and he shifted just a little to the right and took this photo.

~

On my mission, driving to an appointment, we rounded a bend just as the sun was going down and saw this. I almost drove off the road. We went down a bit and then I had to turn around and take a photo. All I took with me was this little kodak flip-up camera, and I took it out and shot this. I never expected any of the mission shots to turn out...but that camera was a gem.

~

Hiking with jw up to Stewart Falls...feeling out of place with her friend there, even though her friend was very nice, thank you very much. I just have this problem with other people, ok? Geez. It almost caused me to pass on taking this photo of this little tiny yellow flower...which I love.

4:52 p.m. - 2006-12-04

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If Only

I'm getting that feeling. The one that says I'm going to be sick forever and ever. I went to bed last night thinking I'd wake up clear and finished. See, I have this schedule for my body, but my body doesn't ever listen. You'd think I would learn. Oh come on, no you wouldn't. We never learn. It's only the sages and the monks that learn to truly listen. The problem isn't that I have trouble listening to the cues my body gives me, it's that I have no patience with that inability.

Ah, she waxes philosophical in her old age...

I'm at a cafe waiting for jh to show up for some time-away-from-the-baby (and the husband) time. She's 15 minutes late. I don't mind really, it's a lovely little cafe and I have my computer (and so does everyone else in here...how strange is this new laptop culture?) (she just called, she's almost here) (what was my original thought?)....

Hm.

So, it's a nice cafe. I need to spend more time here. The last week of the semester is going to be more crazy than I usually have to handle, and it's sending me into this other alternate universe where I can handle it, but sitting here quietly listening to the old-timey jazz music and sipping my impossibly thick chocolate is knocking me back into reality a few steps, and I'm telling you...very nice.

If only I wasn't choking on my own snot (lovely I know) I could really enjoy the experience fully. :)

5:13 p.m. - 2006-12-02

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"n"

I think Mr. Richards is getting what he needs; therapy and a good talking to. And I think everyone should read this.

12:07 p.m. - 2006-12-02

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Gosh Darn It

Every so often someone decides to become my friend. This hardly ever happens, because I'm not so much of a friendly sort of person. Most people assume that I am because I'm so good at faking them out, but trust me, not a lot of people get through. This lovely lady did. It took about a year, and we worked in the same damn office, but I think it's time for me to come out and say it. Gosh darn it, jh, thanks for being my friend. I think you're amazing.

7:00 p.m. - 2006-11-29

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Chocolate Cake Is Good For The Soul

So...I'm sick. This is the second time in two months I've been sick, and really, it's enough. I didn't used to ever get sick. So now I'm wondering what's causing it. Is it because I'm getting older? Is it the stress? Hm, you know, it could be the stress. Then again, it's probably the insane amount of ice cream I eat. Bad nutrition leads to sick. Although I have been working out more in the last year than ever before, so maybe that's what the problem is. The immune system is slightly weaker right after physical labor, which (according to my mother and her (questionable) research) is why that magic basketball player probably got the AIDS...because he often had unprotected sex right after a big game.

Whatever.

Anyway, so I'm sick. And I'm still here at the lab, monitoring. I didn't think it would be as bad as it is, but I'm really very miserable. Throat hurts like hell, headache, out of breath, but at least the mucus is clear now, so that's a good sign. I've been pounding down the tea and airborne and vitamin c, and the cycle of the cold seems to be a small one. Plus, I ate a whole chocolate cake, so obviously this sickness can only last a short while longer.

What?

5:36 p.m. - 2006-11-29

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When I Pray

God sits on the top of a mountain, his feet dangling down over the edge. He's wearing a thin white shirt and yoga pants, but no shoes even though it's probably freezing up there. I'm sitting next to him, telling him that I'm sorry, that I'm trying but I worry it's not enough. I'm trying to hang on and do everything he's asked but I'm tired and scared and I don't think my faith is enough. I know he's there but somehow the questions keep coming and even though I profess to accept and welcome questions, it just doesn't seem to work for me in practice. He looks at me and smiles and sighs, then puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in tight and says: "Let go. Perfection isn't what you think it is. Allow yourself to freefall if that's what's in front of you. Life is an adventure, remember?" And I smile back and say: "Oh yeah. Silly me. Thank you for the reminder. I'll spread the word."

1:10 p.m. - 2006-11-27

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Surreality

I'm in the lab today, keeping it open so people can come in and print for the sale I'm running. Why am I doing that again? Hm.

It's one of those surreal holiday weekends, where time seems to hold still and it's sunday all day. No one on the roads, no one moving around the neighborhoods. I didn't leave the house yesterday.

Is it just me or do I look about twelve years old in this photo?

10:46 a.m. - 2006-11-25

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Issues On Display

7:21 p.m. - 2006-11-22

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What I Did Today

I didn't get dressed until I absolutely had to, but I did watch many satisfying hours of American Chopper.

6:26 p.m. - 2006-11-22

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Where I Am Right This Minute

6:15 p.m. - 2006-11-21

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The Curse of More Space

For my color class today we're going to visit the DM studio (hi, jh's white bum!). Well, the rest of them are. I was there for gallery stroll and had a nice chat with dm, so I'm not going. This means I have five hours to do something. But what? Oh, so many things to be done! I could print (nah), I could send out those emails I've needed to (takes only a few minutes), or I could go home and clean and rearrange my rooms. The rooms, they are a mess! This is why I need a tiny house or apartment. Any room big enough to close the door on or that I don't use very often ends up looking like a complete slob lives there. Because a complete slob does live there. :)

12:45 p.m. - 2006-11-21

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Want

There's a Rolleiflex for sale online. It's way too much. But I want it.

12:44 p.m. - 2006-11-21

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We Won't Be Going Out Again Because:

� You couldn�t be bothered to remember my name.
� You told me that if you hadn�t called me by Wednesday it was because you�d lost my number (here�s a tip�don�t lose my number.).
� Even after I told you straight out that talking about your ex-wife wasn�t sexy, you kept doing it. All night.
� You didn�t dress or shave.
� You�re ashamed about your position in life and worried about how you�re going to get out of it. A woman likes some strength and optimism in a man.
� I had to counsel you. I�m not big on �helping� on a first date.

I can work with your cute little potbelly and the fact that you have a child, and even with the divorce. What I cannot take is the way you made me feel like I wasn�t even special enough for the minimal effort. Oh, and the way you actually said �good girl� (!) to me when I walked in the door. I�m afraid that�s the deal breaker.

1:52 p.m. - 2006-11-20

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The people are looking right at her.

I used to spend a good deal of time writing the first line. I knew someday I was going to write the grand novel and that it would need a really great opener.

So here's todays:
The people are looking right at her.

Why? Has she shot someone? What drove her to it? I think probably an old lover. It's always old lovers driving you to shoot someone.

7:15 p.m. - 2006-11-16

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Busy Bees

I'm sitting here with my water bottle and my shiney lip stuff and my green bag and all around me people are making art. Ortho-litho, VanDyke prints, contact sheets, it's all happy happy darkroom time. This is good, because we've got a lot to do in the next three weeks before the end of the semester. There are assignments to finish and gifts to print before the place shuts down, and there's the sale. Every year the print shop has a mini-print sale, and this year they're allowing the photo department to share some space. The print king did say that if his sales drop this year he's not going to let us do it again next year, but I think he might have been teasing me. We'll each be making an edition of twenty to sell, so I think we're looking at a lot of money here which is excellent because as photo students, we don't have a lot of cash. I haven't decided which photograph to print, and whether I should do 5x7s or 8x10s, and if they should be color or black&white. I think black&white will sell better.

I shot more photos of the dolls. IS and I went down to the river and got them all muddied up and took some good photos. They're not surreal enough yet, but I'll fix that when I print them. I had fun doing it, which I don't know if necessarily good for the process. They are about pain and loss and psychological damage, after all. Meh. I'm sure they'll be fine.

6:30 p.m. - 2006-11-15

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Submitted

There should have been violinists walking behind me, playing something grand and triumphant, but there wasn't. It was much less exciting than I expected it to be, but I went ahead and did it anyway. I submitted my application for graduation. I'll be walking in May. I'm freaking out a little bit.

3:19 p.m. - 2006-11-13

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If I do

1:22 p.m. - 2006-11-13

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Mystic Baby

I knew as soon as I walked in that I should have brought my contact solution. Babysitting is something you have to plan ahead for, and while it truly was perfectly fine that they stay out as long as they like, A girl should come prepared, you know?

Jh's baby is fantastical. She's going to be a mystic like her mother. Jh says the baby is better behaved for other people, and my opinion is that the child trusts her mother to handle the truth of her life, and she just holds back from the rest of us. Children know, you know...who to trust. Then again, I've always had sort of a calming effect...

By the way, that movie Kingdom of Heaven? BORING. If you've never had the pleasure, just take my advice and don't go anywhere near it.

1:01 a.m. - 2006-11-11

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Headache

On Monday I'll be giving a presentation in my family violence class on the cycle of violence in families that leave the polygamous lifestyle. Fun, eh? Fascinating, right? Well, maybe not so much. No one's ever really done any studies on it, so I'm having a hell of a time finding information. Still, it's better for me to give a presentation than write a paper, and since a presentation fulfills the same university requirements for the Communication/Writing whatever thing, I'm glad I have the option. A ten minute speech requires much less effort than a ten page paper. So I'm at the library with the moonlight sonata on repeat spooling through my head. It helps me concentrate, and I need all the help I can get.

I've had a headache all day, and since the news broke this morning about the store-brand pain reliever recall I haven't taken anything for it. Plus the stuff in my cupboard was expired anyway. This is why i don't buy many vitamins or vegetables. They both expire before I can consume them.

Which reminds me, I need to clean out the fridge.

4:59 p.m. - 2006-11-09

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Things I Need To Remember In Order To Get Things Done

� Fear is only in your mind.
��You actually do want to get things done.
��Be aware of the patterns of procrastination, guilt, then mad rush at the end - then block it.
��Ask for help when you don't understand.
� Place the blame on others when that's where it should be.
��Say no to everyone.
��Dominate your own life.
��Regressive Loyalist = need for constant supervision, no inner voice, everything is externally directed, don't be rude.
��Growth Collaborator = be your own person, other's opinions don't matter.

4:55 p.m. - 2006-11-09

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Doll 1

9:49 p.m. - 2006-11-08

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A Whole Person

I was lying in bed tonight waiting for my brain to cycle down, running through who-knows-what in my head, and I thought of an experience I had when I was a child. A friend of my older brother�s asked me to go with him around the back of the trailer. Not just the back, but the way back, near the back door where no one went unless they needed to grind that damn wheat of my mother�s. I never did like this boy; he was pretty frantic and strange, but I went with him. I don�t think I felt any fear of him in the least. When we were alone he asked me to do something I didn�t want to do. I don�t remember what it was�he probably wanted to see my vagina. Didn�t they all at that age? Anyway. I said no. I not only said no, I laughed at him, said no, and left. This is the thing that�s surprising.

See, most of the time I�ve been in therapy I�ve been trying to figure out why I�m such a pushover, why I can�t handle myself or stand up for myself with men, and I always figured it was something I�ve had a problem with all of my life. But there are times I can actually remember when I did have gumption; when I didn�t feel embarrassed and oversized and invisible all at the same time. I�m thinking that all started to be a problem in earnest in Junior High. This isn�t to say that my childhood wasn�t really very shitty. There are memories I get tired of reliving, like the day I was crying and couldn�t stop, and my uncle took me to the back room and held his hand over my mouth and nose until I bit him because I couldn�t breathe, and he slapped me hard across the face. I couldn�t have been more than five or six years old, and he slapped me like only a grown man can, knocking me over. Another time when I was around eight, I came home to my mother sobbing over the naked wriggling body of my baby brother as she contemplated ending herself. All I remember is the way her back looked and a feeling of terror and a frantic need to figure out how to make everything ok again.

But there are also these memories of me as a non-invisible, non-responsible, non-culpable child, riding my bike, singings, playing, chasing boys around the playground, watching my brothers play ball. Telling my older brother to get out of my room and finally ending his nightly vigils next to my bed doing heaven only knows what while I was asleep. Perhaps I�ve just blocked the �heaven only knows what� out. But I did tell him to stop it, and to never come into my room again. And he never did.

There were definitely happenings on both sides, but I seemed to be winning whatever war it was I was waging. My nature was balancing out the freaked-out nurturing I was getting. Then when I was about eleven, two things happened at once. I was moved out of home school and into public school, and I hit puberty. Suddenly I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Very few social and scholastic skills, no idea what was happening to my body; I was suddenly nowhere near the top of the heap. I felt absolutely unsafe. This was an environment over which I had no control. I had no idea how to deal with these people. I knew I was somehow expected to make friends, but no one told me how and so suddenly I was making enemies. Very mean, very broken and angry enemies and I was their perfect scapegoat. The torture commenced.

So. I, like everyone else, am a product of the world I grew up in. My fears are mired in the mud slung at me by my family, my friends, my church, my enemies, and myself. I think that perhaps I need to try shaking it off, instead of painstakingly going over every inch of it like a crime scene. I am who I am, a whole person, a product of my experiences (and my perceptions of those experiences). Just like everyone else, but maybe with a few more complications than most.

9:09 a.m. - 2006-11-04

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Percentages

I haven't really talked about my weight in a while. I've been working out pretty consistantly and doing very badly with my ice cream intake. When I first began working out back in January, I had an assessment which indicated that my body fat percentage was 33% ... much lower than I had expected. At the end of September I had another assessment, and that number had dropped to 28%. Yay me. I was fairly excited about that, but I haven't really lost a lot of weight and my clothing sizes aren't going down that much either.

I was watching tv today and saw someone say that the ideal percentage for women is 25-30%, and I started getting pretty damn happy. Then I read up on the matter, and according to some sports medicine website the ideal is 22-25%. So I'm not in there, but I'm still really close. Much closer than I expected. Now I just need to get my waist measurement down to under 32.5 inches, which is what they said is the highest it should be for women in order to avoid the serious health problems of the overweight.

I guess that means I need to keep working out.

6:02 p.m. - 2006-11-02

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Blank Stare

If I hold my head just so, and open my eyes a little, then part my lips slightly....nice photo. Blank stare and strange expression, but nice photo. :)

6:00 p.m. - 2006-11-01

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It Just Is

So, I was in bed the other day, pondering the meaning of the universe (as I often do), and I remembered something. I forget things all the time, and I slip into old patterns of thinking and doing, and that's no good. In fact, it's very bad. It's bad because the old patterns are lame and they do me no good. They make me hate myself, my life, my body, you, your life, your stupid driving...get the picture?

So, I remembered that every life is worth something no matter what is accomplished in that life. This seems like a universal fact, but my life was never really valuable to those around me when I was a kid, so I have to be reminded. I pray all the time that I'll be able to do what needs to be done, and I believe that in doing these random things I am somehow validating my life. If I'm busy, I'm not worthless. Well, this is not very useful, and also not true. So, I need to stop praying for that, and instead pray that I'll be able to allow my life to take shape without all the meddling from me.

I was in the grocery store the other day, looking for something to help me with bloating. I bloat every month, and I hate it. I was standing there, looking at the diuretics, reading over all the warnings and toxins and such, and I remembered something else. My body bloats for a reason. It's the natural cycle of my female life, and it happens every month like clockwork as part of my menstrual cycle, which is part of who I am. According to some of the information I looked up today, about half of my life is spent retaining water. So...why do I feel like it's some unnatural state that needs to be "dealt with"? It's my body, it is what it is. And you know what else is? My weight. I'm about 40 pounds overweight, and that's taking into consideration the fact that my bones are made of steel or something equally as dense and heavy. This weight just is. There is a psychological and physiological reason it is this way, and all I can do about it is accept it and love it. Because whatever it's doing for me, it's doing a really great job.

Oh and also? Pardon me while I freak out about this.

4:23 p.m. - 2006-11-01

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ADD

I have very good ideas. I should listen to them more often.

My therapist says I need to take control of this ADD thing. He was a little impatient with me. Thank goodness.

I had to remind myself this morning that every life is worth something, whether or not that life includes graduate school and the right job and the right home.

It's hard to remember to take a photo of myself every day.

12:34 a.m. - 2006-10-31

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The Strolling of the Gallery

I've gone and done something exciting, but I'm too much with the overwhelmed to do anything about it just at the moment. Still, I'll tell you what I've done.

Last week I went to an opening at a gallery. The show was of oil paintings and was weak but commercial enough to make the gallery money. The gallery is the one in town that everyone knows the name of, and wishes they could get their art into. While I was there I happened to strike up a conversation with an employee of the gallery. We're both photographers and so we talked about that for several minutes. At some point my wits returned to me and I mentioned that I was the president of the photo club on campus and that we had been hoping to construct a show worthy of a gallery, and would love to submit it to this one. He seemed excited about the concept and introduced me to another employee, who emailed me today and told me she'd talked to the curator who was interested in the idea. I've also talked to the head of the department here and he's agreed to be involved in editing the photographs to make sure the submissions are good enough for the best gallery in the valley.

So basically...yay.

Now I just have to get to emailing and setting the whole thing in motion.

I did good.

6:42 p.m. - 2006-10-25

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Ass

Ok, so...yeah. I'm totally looking at your ass. It's right in front of me when I'm on the machine, and I'm sorry but that's just how it is.

If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure the guy behind me was looking at mine.

7:39 a.m. - 2006-10-25

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Stop It Stop It Stop It

Ok seriously, if you must eat, eat in the damn hall. Your obnoxious mastication is so loud and annoying I may just lean over and slap you just to stop you from chewing.

***

Breathe...

***

So, how is everyone?

1:35 p.m. - 2006-10-23

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Beauty? What?

So, my photo professor sometimes assigns bullshit projects. Like this one: "write a definition of beauty and then create two photographs that exemplify that definition." Uh, ok. I don't tend to assign meaning to my photographs until after I shoot them. My process is very intuitive and I've just learned to trust it. So I haven't written the definition of, but here are the photos.

9:51 p.m. - 2006-10-19

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Energy Drainer!

It's wednesday. Wednesday means I'm at the school, watching over the darkroom while no one works in it. So annoying. Luckily, I have some chocolates that taste like brownies, so double score, eh? Oh and some crackers. Must have something to cut the sweet.

I had my last appointment with the trainter over at the field house today. I can't really afford to pay for appointments for the rest of the semester, so for the next, let's see, fourteen or so weeks I'll be doing this on my own. My trainer was getting annoying, so it's not a huge loss, but I still need some motivation. So, I'm going to be keeping in touch with her via email.

So, I suppose I need to talk about this thing with sb. He did end up calling me on saturday, and we talked for about an hour and a half. He admitted he'd been a big jerk to me and apologized. He also told me he'd been drinking pretty heavily thoughout our relationship, which explains a lot. And, he asked me for advice. He wanted to know what to do about his new girlfriend and the pregnancy. She went off her meds when she found out she was pregnant, and promptly went crazy. He's probably regretting letting the "why can't you just be normal" woman go, and replacing me with a truly mad girl. Enchalada sauce on pasta doesn't seem so nuts now, does it sweetiepie? Anyway, I talked him through it and afterwards realized several things.

First, that it takes a lot of energy to be that kind and helpful and unbiased with someone, and while I don't generally notice when I'm listening to and supporting someone I care about (or at least don't have such a volatile relationship with), when it's him, it's too much to ask. Second, I don't like him. I care about him and want him to be happy, but I don't like him. He's immature and needy, and doesn't have enough good qualities to make up for those failures. Also, a big fat liar. Third, the guy I fell in love with didn't exist, and certainly doesn't exist inside the body of this man.

So, screw it. He called again on monday for more advice. Here's some of what he said (identifying information deleted):

"Hey I got a question for you. I was wondering if you had some insight into this. How did you feel if, did you ever feel like... I'm kind of going through this right now, she's trying to suggest that I'm ... I guess I'm just trying to figure out what ... Why isn't it enough for me? ... Anyway, bye."

I haven't called him back yet, and I won't. He's a grown-up and should be able to figure this out. I told him when we talked that he needed to be patient and mindful, I talked to him for a long time and what I told him was enough. It's what I tell myself constantly. Be calm, wait it out, watch what happens, it'll all turn out the way it's supposed to. There are several theories about why he's called me for advice he surely knows already, like that he's just trying to worm his way into my life again, or that he's trying to get me back in some way, or that he's using me as a scapegoat so that when my advice doesn't work he can blame me instead of himself. All logical explainations, but the important thing here is that he's not calling me because he cares about me, he's calling because he cares about himself. He's selfish and an energy-drainer and he must be stopped!

In other news, I took a kick-ass self-portrait today.

7:33 p.m. - 2006-10-18

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A Big Fat Hypocrite

I'm standing in the hall of the art building. I was just asked about my work. I never get asked about my work. I mean, I do, but not challenged. I don't like it. Any talk about "work" is (to use an obnoxious cliche) tiring. Makes me cranky. What is my statement, what is my work saying, why do I make it? Where is it going? How can I make it better?

Better? Excuse me?

I like where I'm sitting right now, I'm comfortable with the level of advancement my art has made up to this point. College has caused a big leap, and I'm happy with it. Comfortable. And this is the problem. Of course I could get better...of course. I could give all sorts of excuses about why I don't need to worry about this right now, all sorts of other things my focus is on at the moment, but the truth is that there's no excuse. Art is life, and more important, art is my life. At least, that's what I keep claiming. So, why is it I resist following through on that claim? Why do I get so cranky and defensive when someone comes along and tells me I could be better?

Because I'm a big fat hypocrite, that's why.

7:53 p.m. - 2006-10-17

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Title

Working title for my next series: "I'm working on it."

7:30 p.m. - 2006-10-17

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ss

10:31 a.m. - 2006-10-15

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Called

He has, once again, sent me a text message asking to talk to me. He wrote that he needed to talk to me, and that this was serious, no games. I said fine. I shouldn't have, I know, but I did and that's it. I'll call him back when I'm ready.

I have to take a test.

5:48 p.m. - 2006-10-12

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Magnolias

Ah, the holga. It can take any subject and either turn it into something mysterious and lovely, or into something banal and childish. Thankfully, this was one of the former.

For n's birthday tomorrow.

11:36 p.m. - 2006-10-10

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Big Hair

I'm sitting in the airport performing the rituals that bring me back to the reality of my own life. I've got the iPod going (haven't listened to it since I got here), I'm on my computer (been using jw's all weekend), and I've been updating my calendar with all the stuff that needs to be done in the next few days. What a wonderful break it's been! How great to have some time to forget about schoolwork and homework and money and showering. Ok, I didn't forget about showering.

This place is wonderful, and I'm going to live here when I graduate.

It looks like we're getting ready to board, so I'll just leave you with this: a barely visible look at this woman's GIANT HAIR.

1:35 p.m. - 2006-10-09

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Must Have

Craving. Pink.

9:02 p.m. - 2006-10-04

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God's Good Graces

I don't dislike people in general. I dislike general groups of people specifically. This probably doesn't work for my karma, this disliking people, but it happens and I'm ready to admit it. I have a problem. I have a problem with people who do mean things on purpose. I believe the issue I have could be said to apply to people with the characteristic of "malice". Malice is a middle english word which means "the intention or desire to do evil; ill will." People who do mean things who actually mean to do them. This category of people does not include the guy who runs over your cat because he didn't see it or because he couldn't swerve fast enough. It does include the guy who runs over your cat because he hates cats or animals in general. It also includes child molestors, owners and employees of pay-day check loan places, and it definitely includes this lady:

This woman appeared on my television screen tonight and told me that I needed to make myself right with God and the only way to do that was to send her a "seed" of one hundred and eleven dollars. She apparently "feels" that the number is appropriate because it connects to Deuteronomy 1:11 which says something about being rewarded a thousand times over. She and the people she works for (and with) are predators. They prey on people who don't know better, for whatever reason, and who send them money hoping for a miracle with their health or their child's drug abuse.

A person could argue that these people are bringing it upon themselves by choosing to remain uneducated about this type of scam. That person would probably be right. Still, the act committed in ignorance is still less heinous than the one made with full knowledge, and this lady knows exactly what she's doing. She's asking you for cash in exchange for God's good graces and come on...aren't you a little tempted?

12:57 a.m. - 2006-10-04

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Eau Claire, WI

It's been ten years since I went on my mission, so I thought I'd take the time and post a few photos from the old days. The good old days. The crazy heinous difficult days.

12:35 p.m. - 2006-10-03

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Big Bags

I require very large bags. This is not because I carry an insane amount of stuff, but because if a thing I'm carrying isn't in the bag (preferably one that is attached to my body), I'm very likely to leave it. I will grab my bag, stand up, and walk away without looking back to see if I've forgotten something. I've lost too many umbrellas, gloves, and hats to count. I've left cameras (cameras, people!) on the train and bus, and didn't notice until an hour or so later. Apparently I have so many important things on my mind I can't be bothered to leave with what I came in with. Things like the state of the world, the plight of migrant refugees, and whether what I'm wearing is making me look fat.

The bag I'm currently carrying contains:
��Laptop
��Power cord
��Workout Clothes
��Extra socks (it's raining)
��Textbook for Family Violence Class
��3 pens and a highlighter
� Mirror
� Headband
��Water Bottle (vital to my existance)
� Wallet
� Altoids
� Chapstick
��The blue London coin purse containing more lip balm
� Altoids
� Cell Phone
� iPod

And the thing I'm carrying that's not in the bag:
� Gigantic U umbrella

Guess what I almost left on the bus this morning? Twice?

7:57 a.m. - 2006-10-02

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Tired and Sad

Conference weekend always makes me feel like I've missed a day. Today feels like saturday to me, and knowing I have to go to school tomorrow and act like a grown-up again makes me tired and sad. There's nothing as good and bad for the soul than sitting in your living room all day in your pajamas, watching tv and eating toast with butter and jam, and watching conference. I am always at the same time listening with curiosity and joy, and listening with fear that someone's going to say something I'm going to have to defend.

I have to write an essay about family violence, outlining my plan for the 10-page final paper, so it's up at six-thirty for me tomorrow and off to the school. It's research and paper, then lb for therapy, then class for three hours, then workout, then breathe. Oh, and somewhere in there I have to send an email about the photo club and the meeting we're having on tuesday. This is what I mean about faking adulthood; sure I could try to be president of this club, and falling on my face isn't really an option, but all this bravado and convincing of people that I know what I'm doing? All fake.

Knowing I've consumed more junk food this week than a 30-person birthday party makes me even tired-er and sadder.

6:36 p.m. - 2006-10-01

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Take Care

I really should have brought a snack. Something delightful and savory that would melt in my mouth and make me think of sunshine and lilacs. It's six, I ate at two, and I'm at the lab until ten. Four hours of no snacks. There's a bag full of dried cranberries in a bowl on a small counter in my kitchen, but I can't reach it from here.

Last sunday my brother called at eleven and asked if I could come babysit while he worked on his bathroom project. Now, I love my brother. I also love my niece and crave her excited "hi!" spoken to no one for no reason. But I had a lesson on prophets and Amos and I knew I would barely skid by if I went. And I went. I showered and threw a skirt in the car and I went. And my lesson was terrible.

So here's the conflict. Should I say no when I want to say yes? Should I do favors asked for at the last minute when other things loom over my head? Which is more important; time with my family (who I love. Really.), or not stumbling over my lesson? Do my students have to pay for my desire to be with my niece? Is this just a reaction to my own need to take care of other people?

Yes. Yes it is.

6:04 p.m. - 2006-09-27

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Too Much

Oh, here it comes. I'm beginning to feel overwhelmed. I was volunteered to be president of the photo club, and had no idea what needed to be done. Suddenly here are a thousand things I need to do on top of my schoolwork. I almost didn't come to school today. Now I'm sitting in my history of photography class learning about Henry Peach Robinson and his multi-negative prints, and trying to ignore that big rock in the pit of my stomach.

6:33 p.m. - 2006-09-26

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Body in the Road

So, we were going to go the this birdwatching field trip, which is of course totally random. Ec was a little late picking me up, so we were in a bit of a hurry. And then, suddenly, we were stuck in traffic debating whether or not we should kamakazi our way down the emergency lane. After careful consideration, and the arrival of the big bad police truck, we had about 45 minutes to sit around and wait while the lifeflight crew worked on "the victim in the road". So we made a video with ec's phone.

For some reason, it didn't capture the last bit, where ec asks me why we're stuck in traffic and I tell her it's because of the body in the road.

Good times. :)

11:04 p.m. - 2006-09-22

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Tears on the Bus

The other day, there were tears on the bus. Without warning I had been made to feel like a child and a dullard and had no recourse and there they were. On my face, on the bus. Behind sunglasses. I was the only person left in the world and had no one to tell about the damage that had been done to my poor tender little heart.

That day was one of those days that you know must be handled with care. The night before, I had heard from sb, the fianc� I had hoped to never hear from again. He asked for my help, said he realized he had issues with anger and wanted to talk to me about our relationship. And I said yes. I said he could call me. I knew it was the wrong thing to do, and so that day, the next morning, was tender. Every breath had a noise. So I was totally unprepared for the cranky bus driver, and when he asked to see my pass again, and told me it was expired, that everyone else had thought ahead and replaced their passes a month ago, and said other mean and thoughtless things, all I could do was ask him if it really was worth all this irritation over a four-day oversight. And then I sat down and thought of all the nasty and empathetic and hurtful and helpful things I could say to make him understand how unkind he had been, but they changed drivers halfway through my ride and I didn�t ever get the courage. When he was gone, all my scheming was gone and what was left were these tears.

I couldn�t figure out where they had come from. I had just been so irritated with him, what happened? I was suddenly just so defeated and I couldn�t stop them from rolling down my cheeks from under the sunglasses. I tried to tell myself it was perfectly alright to be feeling what I was feeling, used all the tricks lb taught me, but in the end I just had to stop when I got off the bus.

So today, tonight, at almost one o�clock in the morning, I�m sitting here watching the audio commentary on a television show and eating toast with butter and chocolate sauce, and the guy says �It�s not where tears are supposed to be, it�s where they are.� And I�ve decided to just add it to the list of things I�m going to not care how other people feel about. Crying. Wherever I want. No explanation required. If I feel like crying, I�m going to do it. I�ve earned the right.

12:07 p.m. - 2006-09-21

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Ice Cream Cleanse

I meant to stay in the car. Oh, I put on the earrings, but I meant to be unseen by everyone but the guy at the drive-thru window. *sigh* But here I am, out of the car and in the library. Damn that need to use the internet! Damn it!

I flushed my system last weekend. I ate nothing but ice cream and I loved it. It was a rebellion against all things "calorie counter" and "scale" and it was wonderful. It was a reminder that I need to eat what I want, that my body will tell me what I need, and (most importantly) that my priority is not looking good, it's being well and happy. I'm trying to let go of the constant need to look and act in a way that makes me blend in with everyone around me. I'm trying to be a flashlight instead of a radio, broadcasting someone else's ideas (hi LB!). It was silly of me to start keeping track of every morsal I ate, because while that may be just the ticket for some people, for me it's just an excuse to hate myself. And I'm going to stop keeping track of working out, too. If I'm going to work out it's going to be because it's part of my daily life, not because I'm trying to hit some unreachable goal of looking like Giselle. Never going to happen, people. Not even Giselle looks like Giselle.

My trainer is not going to be happy with me, and she's going to get that look on her face. The one that says: "I have a plan for you, a plan that must work for everyone, and you're deviating from the plan. You must be cajoled and persuaded to return to the plan." And I will smile and pat her on the head and tell her she can't handle me, so she needs to stop trying.

I got a very interesting little message today when I turned on my y@hoo instant messenger. A message from steve. It said: " Was I really that crazy?" I'm taking this to mean that he's been doing some soul-searching, and perhaps that his recent relationship has ended. It took me a minute to decide how I wanted to reply, if at all. But I did.

"yeah...sometimes. I felt afraid sometimes, hon...that's not good. You are a very angry and hurt guy, and as harsh and sad as it would be to live inside of that, it was also hard to live near and around it."

and then:

"I don't have bad feelings toward you, and sometimes I still miss you and wish we could work this out, but that can't happen until you've taken care of your stuff, hon...which means that it won't happen with anyone else for you until then, either. And you wouldn't want someone who would put up with being afraid around you, right?"

He has not yet responded. Shocker.

7:33 p.m. - 2006-09-18

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Understanding the Urge

I wanted to understand the urge by wallowing in the urge, and so in the last three days I have consumed as much ice cream as I wanted. I ate nothing else, had very little water, and went back to the grocery store when I ran out. I tried to watch how I felt every time I wanted more, every time I went back for more, every time I scooped into the bowl. And now, two gallons later, I feel very very ill. My head hurts and my stomach is in pain. But I'm a little bit smarter about this weird compulsion I have to eat ice cream. Too bad I'm too sick to remember what I learned.

10:51 p.m. - 2006-09-15

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Feelings

Last night I decided to stop updating to the website I've been using to track my exercise and eating. Jw's right; it's just not for me. Her. Me. Um...yeah. My problem with food has nothing to do with how much I eat of it, so I'm going to stop keeping track of how much I eat of it.

The problem here is that in Ms. Roth's book she recommends just eating whatever you want whenever you want, and I can't do that. I have very real health issues with eating these foods, these comfort foods. Foods that are high in fat are hell on my system. Last night I bought a gallon of ice cream and ate almost the entire thing. Today I feel very ill and have a horrible headache. I have a damn ice cream hangover. But you know what? When I get home, I'm going to eat the rest of it.

So the question becomes, why do I do that? Why do I eat until I feel full, then wait until I don't, then eat until I feel full again? The answer is this: I don't want to have to deal with that emptiness. Last night I paid attention to how I felt as I went back for bowl after bowl of the stuff, and the problem was the empty hands, the not having anything to busy them, the impending doom of...well...feelings. Heaven forbid. I have feelings.

8:11 p.m. - 2006-09-14

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Food and the Fair

The last thing I want on my mind is food. How much I'm eating, how I feel about how I'm eating. But if I want to take care of myself (and I do) I have to pay attention to what I fuel my body with, right? I have to gently remind myself that a pint of Ben&Jerry's is only going to make me feel better for a few minutes, and then I'm going to want another. And another. And another. So it's not about the food, it's about the emptiness that's left when the food is gone. But as important as it is to take care of myself in this way, I'm starting to think that keeping careful track might not be a good idea. Now instead of eating what I feel like eating and trying to be mindful of the sort and amount of it, I'm obsessing over every bite because I know I'm going to have to write it down. So...must think of another way to think about it.

It's Wednesday, and I thought I would have gone to the fair by now, but I didn't go last weekend, and now I'm worried I won't go. This is a silly thing I'm doing. I don't actually like going to the fair. It's just not my scene, man. Lots of people, lots of food, dirty animals? Um, no thanks. But cc has been talking about it for ages now, and I'm feeling all responsible to make sure she goes. Must. Stop. Taking. Care. Of. Other. People. Honestly, I don't care about the fair (hey that rhymes!). So there.

Heh.

12:53 p.m. - 2006-09-13

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Owie!

Oh, my uterus! I love being a woman, I do. I'm all about it. And I know that menstrual cramps and tampons are just the universe's way of reminding me how much I love it, but good hell. Some months it hurts.

I hate it when it hurts. I know that makes me a big baby, and I know my cramps are nowhere near as bad as some, but I hate it when it hurts. It just makes me want to get someone to wrap their arms around me and hold my belly until it feels better.

8:38 p.m. - 2006-09-10

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The Font, The Glass, The Arrow!

I finished my book this morning. Well, sort of finished my book. It will actually require an hour or so of work, but it is in my hot little hands. Not at the moment, of course, but you know...sort of...at home. Since I knew it would be my last chance, I swallowed hard and ignored the fact that taking a photo in the church office building might get me killed, and took a photo with my phonecam of the fantastic elevator sign next to the bathrooms.

The font, the glass, the arrow! It's all so lovely. I'm sure if they'd seen me they would have thrown me out of the church, out of the building. Or at the very least confiscated my phone.

I'm here at ec's office keeping her company while she works on some documents. It turns out the only reason she brought me was my skill in Illustrator. :) I'm hoping to go to one of the many festivals tomorrow, but ec has to go to some event. I'll probably go with cc. There's the Greek Festival, the State Fair (play with food!), and the Avenues Street Fair.

8:37 p.m. - 2006-09-08

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Clean Slate

I've realized recently that I have no desire to update my diary. I just don't know who's looking at it. Three years of journal entries will now be archived and the page will be killed. It's sad, but it must be done. Ok it's not really sad. I made the mistake of using my real name, and of telling people where it was when these were people I didn't actually want seeing it. And so...down it goes.

This diary will be 'clean.' There will be no names, no details. Well, maybe some details.

11:32 a.m. - 2006-09-08

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