I haven't played reversi in over a week!

Last night, I painted my face for my Halloween costume and intended to go out.  Then I realized that no one had told me when the official day for Halloween was.

Monday is the day but Saturday is the day it should be.  I went late to the animal hospital.  The doctor was there.  She didn't care that I was late.  "I think it's better for the dogs," she said.  Then she invited me to her house for dinner.  She's sweet like that.  She said that everyone else at her house was sitting down to eat when she had to go to the hospital to help some folks out with their pet.

I paid no attention to what she was doing but went to the kennel.  I was late for a very important date.  There were only 5 or 6 dogs so it went fast.

Then I came back to my parent's house for a short bit and then went out to my favorite of the three gay bars in the next county.  (I think one is only gay on Tuesday.  LOL) 

There are two full-time gay bars.  One has had many gay incarnations.  I liked it best when it had couches to lounge on.  If I have a comfortable place to sit, I'm good. 

But I digress. So I went in and had to remove my mask to gain access.  I got water and a seat and ogled people.  The show started and I watched a few routines, then I left.

There was a dark angel seated before me, a lovely girl, but large.  I was tempted to flirt but big girls are always breaking my heart because of all their personal issues.  It's time to let a thinner woman crush me, just to prove it's all relative.

The whole point of this damn journal is to release everything, to empty my soul, regardless.   To hold nothing back.

The other part of the secret, in hindsight, is to not tell anyone you personally know about it.  I realize that now.

Library co-workers know my innermost heart.   Thatmakes me... vulnerable.

Initially Cristy was wowed by the things I revealed.  Now I bet she doesn't even read me.  I'm just lucky that she is still a very caring friend who would do just about anything within reason for me.  She and her family are a great comfort to me and I try not to take too much advantage of it although if you let me sprawl on your couch and you play with my hair, like Cristy and her mom do... well... that can only encourage more lounging.  Then you always feed me when I come over and you might as well put a collar on me.

The Bird used to call me her "pet neighbor."

 

Today I lolled in bed until about ten watching a light-hearted movie called "Saving Face" (about two successful Chinese-American lesbians in Flushing, NY), then I decided that maybe I could get my computer up and running instead of attempting to use the ones downstairs belonging to my parents.

I found a friend online and asked her to meet me for lunch.  That was nice and I'm happy that she said "Okay" when I asked her.   It's good to have single friends who can be free somewhat spontaneously.

I haven't heard from Em and I really don't know if things are really bad for her, if she's sick again or, worst case, she's blowing me off.  I can't let myself go nuts again over someone hurting me.  The good thing about Em is that she never said "I love you."  She never gave me false hope, though she did say that there would be times when we could actually have more time together.

Tomorrow is Halloween and I'm going to join my friends and be the werewolf.  With little kids around, it'll be all the more fun.  Then it's back to the grindstone.  I have two weeks coming up with no day off.  Yikes!  If I don't write in my journal before the end of November, you'l know I dropped dead from exhaustion.

 

I realized something the other day, which is:  why heterosexuals mostly have sex at night.  Because men fall asleep....

It took me this long?  Oh, brother!

 

(OK, yeah, I've fallen asleep after, too....)

 

The Princess Dream

This morning I had an unusual dream.  I was talking to a woman who apparently had been a landlady of mine at some point in the past.  We were just sitting and talking about things and she was telling me what happened to various people in the area since I left.

A tall, thinnish woman leaned in and greeted her and saw me and said, "I'll talk to you later," and ducked back out.  She said the woman's name.  The first name was familiar but the last name was different than I remembered.

I think I asked if she was formerly known as so-and-so and she said, "Yes.  She married herself a princess."

I was kind of blown away at that.  "What???"

"Yeah, she met a princess when she went to... (I forget where she said.  It was someplace sub-tropical... perhaps somewhere in the Keys.)

"And they got married???  WOW."

I sat quietly and pondered it for a moment... the dream faded some and the barking of the scottie dogs from the yard next door woke me.

Dreams sometimes mean something and sometimes are just the product of the brains disposal system.  Lately though, the only dreams I remember remembering had some significance.  This dream, I think, was just the by-product of my wish for an old someone.

 

I still haven't been able to reach my newer someone.  God only knows what's happened to her.  All I can do is wait.

6253

Was it Wilma or is it us?

I can't tell if we've all been hardened a little, or if Wilma, who did indeed kick some arse, was just not all that bad.

Oh, there's destruction and difficulty here to be sure, but somehow... it just doesn't seem to matter as much.

A lot of people are saying that Wilma was worse than last years "Spin Sisters," but  I'm thinking they just forget easily.

Much of the recovery is going more smoothly, in my opinion anyway.  Maybe it's just because we had an idea of what to expect this time around.  Maybe it's because the physical landscape was already decimated.  Maybe it's because we now realize that ignorance was the cause of some of our suffering before.

I went to Cristy's this evening and saw that they had sliced their screens to let the wind blow through.  Cristy had footage of the fury of the wind whipping the torn screen and blowing the treetops horizontally eastward.

I woke up worn out.  I think the shock of getting back to a somewhat normal state in a matter of three days after the hurricane, coupled with the anxiety and the crazy day we had Wednesday running errands and dealing with the car had something to do with it.

This time, I'm not that upset about not being in my own humble rental.  I'm comfortable at Dad's, having taken over my sister's room.  I paid next month's rent even though I won't be there for a while.  Someone else might request a break in the rent but I believe that a landlord will be good to you as long as you show respect and pay the bill.

Come to think of it, I really want to do something nice for the guy who found the wire in the first place.

I should be upset but today I was happy.  I can't help but feel fortunate right now.  I have what I need to survive.   My car is running.  My landlord was out to the trailer fairly soon after the storm.  My job is still there.  Losing a day's work was so worth taking precautions to keep the car from burning up.  My friends are okay.  There are gas lines but we still seem to have plenty of the stuff around.  I had a warm shower this morning.  I'm feeling blessed.

For the record, if you live along a coast and are in a gas shortage... try a marina.  The gas costs more but there aren't likely to be any lines.

***************************************************************

Today after work I stopped home.  I was heading back out when I saw a woman pushing her car off of US 1.  I couldn't stop to help her because it wasn't safe but I swung back around and reached her after she had pushed the car into the sand and was starting to walk away.

I pulled up behind her and turned on my hazard lights.

"Do you need a phone?"   She started walking back toward me and we met.  She refused the phone but caught herself from crying when she said, "Could you just give me a ride home?"

I dumped my refugee debris out of the front seat and she got in.

"Hi, I'm Jean.  I work at the library."

"I''m Pat, I'm a hairdresser at a shop in _______."

"That's ironic.  Just moments ago I was thinking I need a haircut."

"Sure.  That's the least I could do, " she answered.

I thanked her but refused, saying that I had things to do.

So I drove her home and let her out and went on my way.

I wonder if I'll ever even see her again.

Of the fews things I know to be true, the idea that we have to help each other is in the soup.

And here's a toast to the power company guys both local and out-of-state.  I beep and "blink" and carry on when I see them.    Love your work, buddies.

And my thoughts also go out tonight to the sick, the poor, the people still dealing with this huricane's mess and healthcare workers...  Bless 'em.

I was surprised tonight to find bread in the grocery store. : o    Lucky me.

"like being in a blender"

That's how one of my co-workers described the sensation of watching hurricane Wilma from half-boarded windows.

Thanks, we're okay.

Yeah, it was worse than predicted but crossing the warm Gulf of Mexico is enough to get one's blood up.

Floridians are tougher now, wiser.

Gas lines. Emptying grocery stores.  An all-day parade of people in line for ice and whatever food there is from the National Guard.  Communication fiascoes. 

It feels like a miracle to be typing into my journal.

I'll be out of my trailer for a while.  Wilma walloped my water system and ate my awnings.  She made the carpet damp but not squishy.

My landlord came over and took out what was left of the shed, all but one of my trees and cranked off one of the majestic arms of my shady oak AND threw out my faithful, innocuous leafy plant that's been valiantly growing for six years AND my lily AND the humongous staghorn fern which was probably worth thousands.  Alas, alas.  Gonna do that might as well put in astroturf.   That might be the worst of it all for me.

The door switch on my car started beeping when the door was open.  Because of that, I wore out my battery leaving the lights on.  I had to get a new battery.  Replacing the battery triggered the car alarm to go off again.  My remote fobs for the alarm were bad which led to me getting my car alarm pulled. That adventure led the alarm tech to discover exposed wire which would have created one charred AOL blogger. (I didn't mention the tow truck driver.  Here's to him, and the battery guy and the alarm guy.)

You never know where your blessings are hidden. 

 

Now if I can only reach my Em.

Update: Waiting for Wilma

Four carloads.

I went back this morning for the refrigerated food and a few final things, including my bargain kitty litter and the fan that pushes air through my house.  I gave up and left my Fiestaware in the china cabinet and in the dish drainer.  I'm tired of the overwhelmment of things. As an afterthought, I turned around and went back to bag up my DVDs and some favorite videotapes.

I was thinking that if tornadic activity blows away the trailer that I rent and all the rest of the stuff of our old lives, maybe I could stay here.  If there's no rent, I could save up for one of those small trailers to squeeze my stuff into to haul along every time I need to evacuate.  One trip.  Easy.

The county is closed Monday.  That means I will work all week. ---> Grumble.

Now I'm "hunkered down" in my father's house.  If I hadn't spoken, he would still be blasting minute-by-minute coverage of the storm.  I hate senseless noise.  It's not as if you can do anything about it.

I'd rather be home, thinking about whatever I'd be thinking about and probably staying in bed trying to compose something wonderful and petting my cat when she comes close.  Instead, my cat is upstairs in a closed room due to the collie who loves to snuffle for nuggets and bark at alien life forms.  Unfortunately, the extra "baby gate" went to college with my younger sister's cat.

I had a phone message from my older sister at home this morning.  Some message about how I must be out having fun on a Saturday night.  Yeah, evacuating myself was a blast.

I did go over late to the Halloween party put on by one of the receptionists from the animal hospital.  Not knowing that the party was back on by 4 in the afternoon on Saturday, I loaned my costume to the library branch manager for her daughter who had just found out about a Harry Potter-themed party. 

My costume is not a Harry Potter costume per se, but a similar character is in the books.  I'm sorry I am not at liberty to divulge what my costume is because I want it to be a surprise to my friends when I finally do get to wear it.

I had a black mask and my friends provided a black cloak and a pair of sparkly red horns.  Suddenly I was the devil in disguise. (Do ya hear Elvis?)

I don't know what to do next.  Go backto sleep or take advantage of the luxury of being where there is a bathtub! 

I know.  Take a bath, go hibernate with the cat in the central air, and read a book.

Yeah. 

Judi... Thank you.  I don't talk to you as often as I could, but I always appreciate your kind comments.  (My "prize" was in the very first carload.  I'm so glad that I hadn't thrown out your packaging.  It was a drag to be taking it off display to go on the run again.)

 

6195

on being planted, on being a plant OR it's not easy being green, but it's not that hard, either

http://journals.aol.com/judithheartsong/newbeginning/entries/1601

  Ya' know, when I was a kid, that was on a poster in the hall of my Sunday School.  It was "Bloom where you are planted" and I thought about it quite a lot.  To me, it meant to thrive whatever your situation, to make the best out of whatever you got. 

I was hoping I'd spring up and be as gloriously mature and happy as I aged as I thought my sister (five years older than me) and her friends were.   I'm still waiting to bloom, but maybe I have in someone else's eyes.   That poster's thoughts didn't kill me though.  As I grew from 13 to 30 on a patch of land full of wildflowers, native plants and tall pines, I thought less about being the image of someone else and more about standing tall and being strong and healthily "green."
 Each plant and tree was beautiful of itself and together the trees and shrubs and flowers complemented and complimented each other.
Have I bloomed where I was planted?  Well, ... some days I flow.  Some days everyone seems to adore me.  It's all about the others blooming around me though.  Without them, I can't see myself.  My co-workers, my buddies and even you show me myself.  You'd think that would be enough to lift me to a higher plane.  It should.

Now I have a younger sister, thanks to my father remarrying.  I watch her.  She's pretty and smart and so wise at 20 that she has advised me how to cope with some things.  Me!  Nineteen years difference in our ages.  Yet I see in her DOUBT and I wish that there was a magic remedy. 

She doesn't think she's pretty because she is big, I mean genetically healthily Germanically tall and full.  There's no Barbie doll in her.  Boys hit on her and she shrugs it off.  Her romantic experiences are just that to her.  I don't think she feels worthy and yet she can be so very stuck up. 

It hurts me seeing her doubt her worth. She has always had money, I never have had much.  That doesn't make any difference between us.  We both are valuable, loving people.  We are both "worthy" of everything.   We both have something to offer.

She can charm a crowd and seems to flow through a room like a fresh breeze, stopping to shine on each person in the room.  She holds court with this little group and that as I stand by, just awed by her ability not only to talk to anyone but to impress them.

Me, I don't do crowds.  I don't speak freely.  I will talk to people but if I'm not comfortable, I won't talk much. I am generally content to stand back and be helpful to the hostess.  If there's something to do as a group, I participate and add to the fun.  I know my presence is appreciated by those who know me because they tell me so.  People who don't really know me may have a negative perception and think me anti-social... until they are around me long enough to know that I'm just quiet, not stupid or totally boorish. 

I am somewhat boorish at times more as a reaction to superficiality than a result of ill-breeding.  I can't help it.  I own disdain for things that waste my time, like a smile and seeming interest when you can feel that the person attending you is not for real.  My feeling is if you don't like me and don't want to know me, leave me alone!  However, if you can see me and want to see more of me, come on over ... kick your shoes off.  Let's walk together.

When you meld with someone, when what you share seems to fill you, when it's as if you were creating flowers and trees, walking through a white page and leaving a trail of color...  Ahhhh.

That's when I feel myself open my petals.

 

 

6180

"I get by with a little help from my friends."

http://journals.aol.com/judithheartsong/newbeginning/entries/1595

This is all you really need to know about me. Without you, I'm less than whole.

I look to my friends for spiritual uplift, advice, companionship, moral support, understanding and grace.

Affection is in the way I'm greeted by my friends and the way Cristy tilts her head and looks at me when I join the gang on her couch.

 Cristy

Friendship is implied in the "flippant" or "sassy" banter between me and the library's branch manager, or in the way the children's librarian always teases me about "paybacks" when I torment her with playful verbal jabs. Friendship is Josh and Joe IMing me at 11 p.m. on a weeknight.

I didn't understand friendship when I was a child. It seemed to me that everyone should always love each other. It was hard to comprehend that people come and go in your life. I thought they all were keepers. I thought we all were family. There was a very wise child that I worked with at a local elementary school who pointed out that the word friend has an "end" in it.

Friendship has been defined as a single soul inhabiting two bodies. I wouldn't go that extreme, but I would say that there is definitely a psycho-spiritual connection between people that draws them together.

Being befriended saved my life. I cannot envision where I might be today if I hadn't been guided by other young lesbians when I left for college at the age of 17. They became my surrogate family. They gave me a reason to keep going. They taught me that I wasn't a freak and that I wasn't alone. They taught me that I didn't have to accomplish everything on my own and also that I was capable of doing much more than I thought I could in the way of self-reliance. They wanted to be there for me. They didn't ask me for anything. They gave me shelter, they fed me, body and soul. They took me with themwhen they ran errands from our woodsy, small town campus into civilization. They loaned me books that filled me with pride in what we were. They gave me the words for the things I felt, the things I wanted, the things I needed. They gave me the word for myself. I'd always felt it, but I didn't know how to say it. Once I learned the words, they helped me learn to say them and claim them as my own. More than kindness and nurturing, simply having them in my life saved my life.

 That's me on the left, on top of a mountain in Maine, checking out the map with Henry, Bruce and Sue Q.  circa 1984 +/-

If you read my journal you know that I am a natural-born brooder.  I believe in chaos theory and negative entropy; that is, that there is order in the universe though it seems disordered and that life drives itself to continue into the future. In spite of myself and the depression I fight, I try to see what there is to be happy about and when I look it is the people in my life, and the natural world, that causes me to respire and fill my heart with more energy to keep pumping.

It is my friends who tell me that they are disgusted by the way I allow my girlfriends to treat me but support my right to make a fool of myself again and again. It is my friends who thank me for writing, thank me for loving them.

When I look at the person I was in college, truth-bending, selfish and anal, I wonder at how they just kept on loving me. I don't know if I would have put up with me.

It was my friends who brought me out of my shell and onto a stage to recite my poetry. It was my friends who taught me to dream with my eyes open and to see without tunnel vision.

It is my friends who continue to teach me how to live and be human. I had a friend, Jennifer, who lived by a sign in her room, "Feed my lambs." She told me, "We are all each other's host and each other's guest." It was Ivan G. at college who told me, "We are all the same."

I find my friends everywhere I look. I have local true blue hang-out friends and chat friends and journal friends and work friends and a lover-friend and customer friends and stranger friends. I had the warmest chat today with a lady I was in line with at an office supply store. I noticed that in her 70s she had the humor to wear a silver medallion inscribed with "What if the hokey-pokey is really what it's all about?" She's my kind of people. I may never see her again but we shared kinship for 10 minutes and it made us both feel good.

It reminds me not only of the Beetles' song from which this essay takes it's title but also of one of the closing scenes of themovie made from one of my favorite books, "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe" by Fannie Flagg.

In the movie Jessica Tandy, as Virginia "Ninny" Threadgoode, is standing on the main road through Whistle Stop, Alabama. Kathy Bates, as Evelyn Couch, is helping Ninny come to terms with losing her home and telling Ninny that she has a home with Evelyn and her husband.

The story is multi-layered and at it's heart is the value, richness and catharsis of story-telling.

The two women find a fresh jar of honey and a note from Idgie on the Ruth's grave.

((And by the way, if you think Ninny and Idgie are one and the same you really weren't paying attention.))

"Do you know what I think life is about?," says Ninny. "Friends. Best friends."

I go for that.

It reminds me, too, of the recurring theme of the old television series, "Xena, Warrior Princess." 

 

Xena didn't need her friends, except to save her soul from eternal loneliness and damnation. 

Over and over again, it's repeated in the final seasons: "Love is the way."

That's what I'm saying.

"No man is an island,no man stands alone
Each man's joy is joy to me
Each man's grief is my own
We need one another, so I will defend
Each man as my brother
Each man as my friend"