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currently reading:
Two Queens in One Isle
projects:
I plan on finishing this afghan by the end of the week. Woohoo!
mood of the day:
relaxed, and kind of great actually. Thanks for asking!
I have a wish list
Ziggy
"You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses."
I am grateful for:
1. Reishi tea
2. Kleenex
3. The color yellow
4. Never Been Kissed, the movie
5. Companionship
You can read the full details below and get the elusive "why."
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11.28.2001
Whimsy. Whimsical. Long white summer dresses with airy posture floating behind giggling girls with pigtails.
I actually sometimes wonder if I have the nerve, the actual gall, the good ol' guts to be better. To make obvious attempts at getting to know me and being 'well': as in wellness, as in spiritual, as in "getting to know me." Oprah says to write in your journal every day at least five things for which you are grateful. Should I start these lists on my journal? Little things, big things. Does it matter what things? I believe it's the grateful part that is important. Ce n'est pas? I wonder, too, if I remember my French as I do my German. Mein Gott! Ich denke nicht.
For a quick and quiet meditative moment, I will enter five things for which I am grateful on this calm and rainy Wednesday. I'll make them honest. I'll make them as honest as I can. Because though I'd like to say that I am grateful for the smell of the rain, I'm not as grateful for it today as I would be in the summer. So I'll be honest. Please take a gander to the left.
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Let's see how that works then *smile*. I haven't been writing in my hand written journal. I really should. I realize that I write here, but it really isn't the same. I've already ruined any true freedom of expression, thought, feelings, etc. on this site by simply letting people know I have it in the first place. Various family members and friends. Even the ones you feel you can tell anything: you realize there are certain times and places that inspire you to tell them things but never have I shared with a person I know all that I share in my journal.
I had a scare the other night. Jon bought a weight bench after we moved in together. It's been his plan and a great good joke between us ever since we made move-in plans. He lets his friend Todd use the bench since Todd is 1) his friend and 2) provided the actual weights. So last week, before I left for my nomadic trek across four or five states, I left him my house key so he could have access to the weights. When I came back on Sunday night, I went into the weight room to water my plants and saw that I had left my last journal lying on the couch in that room. I couldn't remember if I had left the elastic open or closed around the journal and panicked that Todd may have actually read it. Normally, when I was normal, this would not have been a problem. But lately, I've been writing about Jon and my emotional nutty-ness. I didn't want Todd to be privy to these feelings and I'm sure Jon wouldn't enjoy it either
Todd is a bit of an odd sort. He's mean in a lot of ways, but great and kind in a lot of others. I can't figure out which one is really him. Well, during the Al Gore/G.W. Bush presidential campaign, Todd, Jon, Alice, another friend and I all went out to dinner. If you haven't guessed by the small histories I've given you, I would only support people who would either make room in their minds for people like me to be successful, or who would support anyone in my family. George Bush did not strike me as such a person, and despite the stellar job I think he's currently doing, I still cannot see him in a compassionate light when it comes to foster kids with drug addicted, AIDS infected parents. My compassion runs deeper than pockets; it goes so far as choices. Todd, on the other hand, loves a Republican ideal. He argued with me over and over about welfare bums and hospital care and how doctors would lose so much money if Bush weren't president (Todd is a med student?ta da!) At one point, his friend said, "You grew up with money; what do you care about poor people?" Fortunately, I was too impassioned to hear him (Alice later translated). His comment alone however shows how much he knew me. In the end, I was crying. Call me insane. It was incredibly frustrating. I already hate debating. Always have. If I believe in something, I've thought about it. I'm not going to try to convince you. In the end, I just try convincing you to stop trying to convince me. Either way, I felt incredibly foolish. At moments like this, I feel embarrassed; everyone looking at me, grinning, amazed with my sensitivity. Nuts!
My fear, however, has passed. If he did read it, there isn't much that I can do about it.
JPR is in Connecticut with my mother who has an appointment at the hospital tomorrow morning. I'm hoping all goes well. They are too. My sister is so fantastic that she wouldn't have a problem staying with my mother 24/7, but both my mother and sister are hoping for some of their own independence. And I really would like to have JPR's company. I have friends, but I don?t call them. I have no desire to make an effort. Strike that. I do have the desire, but I don't have the motivation. I miss company, but I want company I know I can just enjoy rather than "read," if you can understand what I mean without me explaining too much.
Today is grocery shopping day. I'm glad cause I can get some more tea and yogurt and lots of veggies, but Jon wants to also do his own shopping. I was hoping he would just let me handle it and I know he wants other things, but I really liked knowing that it was me alone. It felt good to do that. With him wanting to do some of it too, it makes me feel like I'm disappointing in that capacity. I know it isn't likely that that is true, but I feel it just the same.
I've mentioned this before, but if you want to read some good writing in a journal, read Scott's. He's good. I enjoy reading him.
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