may 1st , 2005
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there was this special on the ramones and the clash right now on PBS and so i decided to watch the last 5 minutes of it because i thought it was the same documentary that i watched just the other day on the ramones, but it looks like it was a bit different.

the ending was about the clash and so i reminisced how mick jones of the clash (B.A.D.) drunkenly offered me to come back and drink with "the gang" after the show. the show was B.A.D., courtney love, some new band richard butler from the pychedelic furs had, grant lee buffalo, and a band named dada.

dada and i knew each other because we played several shows together simply because we were put together by our booking people and we became friends immediately. you might remember their semi hit "disneyland".
their music wasn't really my thing but they were genuinely sweet intelligent and very genuine kind people and thereafter they would put us "the blue up" on the list. we have long since lost touch tho since i changed my name.

that is how we all made it on the list for that infamous show at the target center (huge arena) for that mega tour (mini lalapalooza) and i ended up standing next to richard butler (who is a huge musical hero of mine) who was watching courtney and i asked him shyly if he could be any animal what would he be? (dumb i know, i but i was dumbfounded standing next to him and he graciously thought about it and said "dove"). it was a bizarre and wonderful night.

and that was the night courtney and i traded xanax for valium (she had valium and i had xanax)
and i saw her pill bottle that said "courtney cobain" and i wanted to steal it knowing damn it would be worth a pretty penny someday but of course i didn't because i am not the kind of person to take advantage of someone. especially her in her drugged out freaked out state and her husband had just died a few months prior and i helped zip her into her dress (which she could barely fit into and she disgruntly exclaimed "i have NOT gained weight!") and she told me that her lyric "i want to be the girl with the most cake" was inspired by my cd "cake and eat it". i love courtney, i'm sorry, i do.

and she said she wanted to buy that title from me but i know she'd would never remember that moment.

and she wanted me to come back with her but i knew all she'd do is pass out and all night long i would worry about her and care take her.

well that night mick jones from the clash in his bad british crooked toothy grin came up to me drunk as as skunk and said "come back and drink with us luv"

and damn i wish i would have...i am a SUCKER for a good story and a british accent.
fuck, i live for that shit.

but it was Dada who put me on the list and so it was with Dada i must go back with at the end of the night, because i wasn't going to ditch them even for x members of the clash or courtney love for i am loyal and dada are SWEETHEARTS.

fucking a tho, i wish i could have gone with the x clash member, i still wonder what that would have entailed.
maybe just lots of passing out on his end ,too. who knows?

but i was brought to recall this because of this special on TV.

the thing that this all was prefacing tho was this made me go type up radioactive.net which was the subsidiary i was on of MCA with B.A.D. (little did they know) and also the ramones.

in fact, the manager of the ramones is why i have not made music in over 7 years, bizarrely enough.
(also manager of the talking heads and deborah harry...how he had the skills to do this is beyond my comprehension)

also on that label, the infamous traci lords, and shirley from garbage and Live.

and goddamit that i emailed gary kurfist a few months ago and made "sort of" peace with him...

because for the FIRST time since i writhed away from that fucking label years ago....(we had such a falling out that he erased all evidence i ever existed from his label), he's got me back up his site saying "licensing available" whatever the fuck THAT means.

motherfucking mother fuck.

that's what i get for emailing that cocking sucking sonuvabitch.

pardon my french.

maybe i should be happy about that.
i'm not tho.

because he's a mysogynistic sadistic pigfucker who doesn't deserve to make a dime from my music.
he wears a shark's tooth necklace, white loafers and puffs up beet red like a little pathetic rooster when he's mad.

and btw, i peed in his pool at his multigazilliondollar mansion in the hollywood hills where irving caesar wrote the famous song i love "tea for two" that doris day sang. (i love old movies).

yes, i know that was massively immature of me but it gave me a little thrill because no one was allowed in his pristine stupid pool.

there's way more to this story but i must sleep now.

 

10:48pm

 

8:39pm

he's home he's home he's home!

three kisses to the forehead.

the dogs are twirling.

he's off changing out of his grey suit.

*deep heavy sigh of relief*

 

8:25pm

ok, i AM a spaz. i am usually not such a spaz about planes.
everyone else spazzes about planes but not me.
but this time...yes.
anyway, he is 5 minutes away from home.
he will soon be home.
sorry for my seriously woody allen spastic behaviour.

8:00pm

fuck, i'm not one to get paranoid about these sorts of things, but shit, it's been so fuct lately.
jason's plane was to land at 7:26pm. he is the kind of person to msg me the second the plane lands.
i know planes are late a lot. especially with things the way they are now.
but fuck.
all of a sudden i am worried.
and i just..fuck.
i hope everything is ok.
i know it probably is.
i am being an overstressed worry wart.
but damn.
i thought he'd be home by now.

also, emmett, you are worrying me.
i hope you are ok.
i emailed you.
i hope you are ok.
fuck.

don't any one of you die on me now, ok? fucking a.

im thinking of kiitos and fuzzy at the funeral and hope they are ok, too.

fuck.

i am a spaz.

springtime, i hate you and i love you.

i'm drawing bleeding eyes on a bad xerox of an old doorway.
because i am just so damn goth like that.
love and rockets is even playing. and before that was the cure.
could i get anymore cliche and dramatic?
i have blood red hair but no eyeliner.
i suppose i should draw a tear on my face and carve the word "love" into my arm for extra dramatic effect.

now it's 8:08pm

fuck.

jason fucking a. msg me.

6:48pm

happy bealtaine!

i ate some chef boyardee so there is something in me.
BAD, i know! but good there is something in me.
i feel better already.

btw, it bealtaine! did you know? i didn't.

http://www.ace.net.au/darkmoon/bealtain.htm

http://www.applewarrior.com/celticwell/ejournal/beltane/about_beltane.htm

 

5:56pm

not to be gross or anything but just to give you some persepctive of how distressed i am....remember months ago i told you i almost throw up everytime i brush my teeth?
well, i just brushed my teeth and threw up so hard that i snapped my toothbrush in 1/2 that was in my hand.

thankfully there was nothing in my stomache to throw up.

not a good sign.

fuck. i need to chill the fuck out.

 

12:25pm

purging and the dark side of string

i am still in major purging mode.
trying to erase things of my mother from my life.
erasing phone numbers and addresses so it makes it harder for me to ever contact her.

i erased my mom's numbers off my phone.
it had my mom's number on there a few times 'cause it saves numbers, and once that landed me in trouble as after drinking some i called her at 1am crying at her (and right after i had changed my number so she couldn't call me...really stupid of me. but luckily she doesn't understand *69 and her phone doesn't save numbers) to leave me alone because i just totally cracked after all these emails she had been sending me. also my dad's number was on there which also made it too easy for me to call HIM at 1am waking up up to yell at him for going over to my mom's and giving her cupcakes on my birthday.
which i actually don't regret that one because i think it was important for my dad to hear the pain in my voice over what he had done and i don't think an email could have conveyed that.
but i don't wish to repeat that.
i am also going to go through this piece of paper i have with people's phone #'s on it and scratch her phone # out with permanent marker so i cannot call her if i have some compulsion to call in the next 2 years, which i'm sure will inevitably happen. i think i have a few pieces of paper but i have to find them all. *sigh*
but if i get rid of her phone numbers i CAN'T call her. because i don't have her numbers memorized, thank god.
i don't have anyone's numbers memorized because i don't talk on the phone enough to remember any.
sadly, i still do know her emails, and i wish i could erase those out of my mind, too.
although i never have the compulsion to email her as much as i do to phone her because it's not so much i want to say something to her as much as i want to hear her voice and i want her to hear mine.

and there are just all these things in my house that remind me of her. and it's absolutely impossible for me to get rid of all of them. and it's not like i can erase her from my mind anyway. i can't undo it. it will always be there in my mind, unless i get amnesia or something.

like the hello kitty sandals i wear everyday around the house as slippers.
those are from her but i just can't get rid of them because i wear them hourly and if i get a new pair, well then i will just be reminded that i have a new pair because i threw the other ones away. so that is hardly helpful.

there are some other shoes she got me that i never wear that i think i will throw away today.
she says she bought them for me but i don't believe her because most of what she buys me is stuff she buys for herself and then it doesn't fit her or something and so she gives it to me.
like she always gives me make up that's been opened and then says "i bought this for you"
when it's obvious she used it and then decided it was not the right colour for her and so she then gives it to me.
i wish she'd just say it straight up like that.
i don't mind getting used make up at all... that is perfectly fine.
but for her to make up a story that she saw it and bought it for me is just dumb, because i don't wear frosted purple eyeshadow or whatever and there is no reason that something like that should remind her of me.
the hello kitty shoes i CAN see that she thought of me for because she knows i like hello kitty.

and there are some black leggings she gave me that i think she also thought of me because she knows i like leggings.
however, they don't really flatter me because they are too big so i think i'll throw those away, too.

and then my dishes. she also said she bought those for me. but i don't believe her because she is just addicted to buying dishes and she always has too many and then she tries to unload a set on me every year.
everytime i'd go to her house, long long ago, she'd be trying to unload dishes on me. do you want THIS cup? this spoon? this frying pan?
which i almost always would say yes because i was poor.
but i said no to a lot of glasses because one can only have so many drinking glasses.
everytime i'd ever go to her house she would show me some new set of dishes she bought.
she just likes to buy dishes like some people like to buy shoes.
and that's ok.

anyway...
so i have these dishes and they are fine. but every time i eat on them i think of her giving them to me.
and i don't want to think of my mother every time i eat.
so i have to get rid of those dishes and finally go to ikea and buy my OWN set of dishes that *I* picked out for the 1st time in my life.

everytime i eat on them, everytime i load or unload the dishwasher, i think of my mother.
and how she said she thought of me when she bought them and they are perfect for me.
well, i know she did not think of me when she bought them and they are NOT perfect for me.

i can't get rid of all the photos of her and all the letters she wrote me.
because that is just going too far, i think.

i can't erase my past. i can't even erase her unless i erase ME.
i mean, everytime i look in the mirror i think of her because i look like her and there is just nothing i can do about that except plastic surgery. and that is not an option i want.
i would like a facelift at a certain point, but other than that, i don't want anything else done to my face.

i thought about changing my nose for awhile. but now i like my nose and i realize it's what makes me ME.
it's my nose. i don't want someone else's nose.

it was when laura dern got a nosejob that it struck me...
she just looks "normal" now. her nose looks like any other nose, whereas before her face had so much more character. her nose, even tho it was a large "imperfect" nose, was part of her sexiness.
and sexiness doesn't come from the perfect nose it comes from confidence.
and so when she played sexy confident roles her nose was sexy, too.

i like to have a face that is not "normal" and has character.
every great actor has a face with character.

and almost every woman or man i have ever had a crush on has had a big nose, except johhny depp, i think he's the only exception.

back to my mom,
can't get rid of things from my childhood either, because well...that's just dumb.
it's MY childhood, not my mom's, even tho she was obviously IN it playing a large important role.

another thing that reminds me of my mom is my pink chenille bathrobe.
even tho *I* was the one who bought it and gave it to her and then years later she gave it back to me, it still reminds me of her.

but dammit, i'm not getting rid of it because i like it.

also the white nighty she gave me. i like that, too.

she also gave me a lot of sheets, too, that she would say she bought for me, but she obviously didn't because they were used and when i tried putting them on my king sized bed they would hardly fit.
so i knew the reason she gave them to me is because she washed them and they shrunk and so wouldn't fit very well on her king sized bed either.

well, i can get rid of those.

i think i already got rid of the pink flannel ones because those got worn out.

but i still have that red flannel set that can go because too much dog hair sticks to it anyway.

i guess those are the main things she has given me that some of it i can part with now.

it is odd that as i try and think of other things she has given me throughout the years that i could get rid of, i can't think of anything...
because everything she ever gives me is stuff that doesn't last.
like leggings or soap or magazines she's already read or food she doesn't want. sometimes she would bake stuff and give me some of that. i really always loved that.
or she'd give me make up or shampoo she bought at the dollar store.
everything she gave me was always either already used or totally cheap from the dollar store. but i was always happy to get it because i was poor. if happened to be anything of value it because she didn't have a use for it. like an end table because she had just bought a new end table. and i never took those since i don't have room for a million end tables in my small apartment.

i've never been given anything that lasts. the only thing i have that lasts are 2 things i begged her for.
one was my big glass pear that i need for the cover of my next record, and the other is this eskimo soapstone carving of a seal that was given to her by her mom or maybe one of her sisters and i remembered it from my childhood.

well, no, i guess the dishes she gave me are things that would last.
so there is that.

but they aren't dishes that one would go "wow" over.
still, they are nice dishes. simple. i like simple.

things she has that are actually things that are heirlooms that i really do feel should be MINE
are all these ancient indian artifacts that my aunt gave my family.
an aunt she is not blood related to but i am.
and the only reason she gave them to us is because *I* was OBSESSED with indians as a child.
i mean truly obsessed. i even dressed like one and read everything i could about every tribe.

when the sioux came to our small town to put on a powwow.
well, it wasn't so much a powwow, but they were in full gear and showed us how to dance.
and when they invited the entire town to dance with them i wa the ONLY one from the entire town who bolted to them as fast as i could and danced with them.

so everytime i see those indian artifacts at my mom's house who couldn't give a rat's ass about indians i just have to go "grrrrrrrrrr" inside. really cool stuff like axes and arrowheads and picks.

the only reason she keeps them is she knows they are valuable and make her look all intellectual when i'll bet she couldn't even tell you the difference between cherokee and hopi.

it's really dumb i get mad about this.
it's not something i stew about much. i'm just trying to think of what my mother has given me and what i could part with so there is less of her in my house.

i guess she did give me her wedding ring and engagement ring to my dad.
i do have that but even that seems like a joke to me the more i think about those 2 together.

it's part of feng shui to get rid fo things from your house that you have bad memories attached to.
even if those things aren't in your immediate view, it still drags your energy down that they are even there.

i have a lot of things to get rid of.

but ya, i'm glad i was erased the phone # from my phone because i was just ready to throw the entire phone down the garbage shoot today if i couldn't do it because it's too damn easy for me after a few glasses of wine to storm over to the phone and click on her number and press redial and then scream "why why why?".

same with my dad because i am STILL mighty damn pissed off that he gave her cupcakes on my birthday.
and i probably will be for some time. he DID say he was sorry and that he understood why that upset me, but i still don't FEEL that he REALLY "got it". but if his phone # hadn't been so easily accessible to me in my drunken rage i would not have had the ability to flip out on him at 1am, even tho, in the end it was a good thing, i just don't want to have the ability to repeat that. once is enough.

but whatever. just whatever.

so....still in my purging mode.
i will be for quite some time for i have a lot to purge.
i wish i could get rid of my dishes TODAY and go to ikea right NOW and buy new ones.
but...i can't because i don't drive.
and i don't have the money or the time anyway.

but it is on my "to do" list.

oh no way...i remember ONE thing she bought me new that i still own , but haven't used much, but thought "wow, she really thought of ME when she bought this". and that is my sewing machine. and i hope to be finally using that after all these years. i always wanted to sew but just never did. but yes, that is something i truly value and have dragged it with me throughout all my life , always putting it in a place that is near me even tho i don't use it.
but still am always really happy i have it. and i always have fond memories when i look at it because it was given to me with ME in mind and makes me feel that she saw potential in me to create something cool with it.
and it was NEW. and so, yes, i love my sewing machine from her very much.

kind of ironic now that i think of it that when i came home from getting the restraining order on her,
i found pooka had swallowed the thread from that machine and he was all tangled up in it.

for him to do THAT of ALL days. when that sewing machine has been sitting in front of him for all the 9 years of his life and he has NEVER touched that bobbin on that machine.

and i was really processing a lot of guilt from that for the last few weeks because when i came home and he was all tangled in the thread and choking on it, in my state of anxiety i thought "god" was punishing me somehow for putting a restraining order on my mother.

and my punishment would be that the most innocent and pure and loved being in my life would die from being tangled in string. choking on it. bound up in it. as i had just bound my mother (and also myself).

and also that string is just so symbolic to me and means so much good to me in that i make string and i love all that string represents in it's creative possibilities and all it's symbolism of the oneness of life.

and here now string was a KILLER in my home.
the dark side of string.

and now instead of loving all my string which is EVERYWHERE in my house i am paranoid of it because it could kill my dogs and so i am constantly looking out for stray string anywhere and making sure the dogs can't get at it.

and all this string around me is now a constant reminder of how quickly my dogs could die because of string i left laying around.

and the guilt of that.

and i think "what does it mean???" that this happened to pooka on the very fucking day i got that restraining order.

at the same time, i think how incredibly narcissistic of me that i could think that pooka eating string could somehow be related to my restraining order. as if what happens to him is simply a reflection of my own psyche.

but at the same time i have to think what a freaky COINCIDENCE.
i mean of ALL possible times for that to happen it happened at that very HOUR?

and i have been thinking about that ever since it happened trying to let go of the guilt of it and try to sort it out because that was some serious overload to get that restraining order and then IMMEDIATELY deal with an emergency situation with pooka, the lightbeing of my life.

and i am always havng terrible dreams that my dogs are dying or are in trouble or are lost. because they represent all that is pure and good and loving in this world to me.

and so to have that happen right then, it was like i was living in one of my own nightmares. and i am STILL not really able to get over it.

and then just now as i realize that my mom gave me that sewing machine and that is the only thing i have from her that i had NO negative connotations with. except for the fact that NOW it will always remind me of the day i got the restraining order on my mom and that my dog almost died at that exact hour from swallowing the string off from the bobbin off that machine.

black string off a black machine.

good god.

don't you think that is a little FREAKY???

and why did it take me until the very END of all this writing as i was thinking of all that my mom gave me to think of the sewing machine?

because i was trying to think of things that made me feel bad about my mom, and the sewing machine makes me feel GOOD about my mom.

or it DID, until that day i got the restraining order.
and so now the ONLY thing i have that has good memories about my mom, the only thing she ever gave me that i VALUED because she gave it to me because she saw value in ME, is intrinsically entwined (no pun intended) with getting the restraining order on her and the one good and pure loving thing in my life almost dying because of that damn sewing machine.

not to get all overanalytical, but, i am pretty overanalytical...
but "WHAT DOES IT MEAN???"

and RIGHT when i was on the verge of wanting to sew.
i mean, i've been wanting to sew for decades which is why i drag that machine with me everywhere and out it in a place of prominence and why i drag 200 pounds worth of fabric with me for the last several decades because i knew that SOMEDAY i would want to sew really amazing things.
and the time for me to sew them , finally, is upon me now as the creations are being solidified. or actually not the creations so much as the PROCESS of the creations.

and it's because of crocheting and the process of crocheting which allowed me and taught me and brought me to this point, finally, where i am able to let go and not worry i am going to "ruin" my fabric by sewing something awful.

i see the process now where i do not see a final "creation" in my head but rather bits and pieces of things that perhaps will sort themselves out into garments (or something) in totally organic and intuitive way.

before i always thought i have to see the finished piece in my head and then try and create that exactly.
and that is why for all these decades i could never start sewing.
because i cannot work that way. that paralyzes me.

but don't you think it at least ODD that pooka would eat that sewing string off that sewing machine on the very hour i get the restraining order?

when he's never had ANY interest in that sewing machine EVER before?

a sewing machine that is in the corner of my room under the duty piano bench?

he had NINE YEARS to eat that sewing thread or even show interest in it. then...all of a sudden he EATS it?

i mean what the FUCK?

IF life were a dream, and i think it is in many respects, and i were analyzing this as if it were a dream i had, i surely would find that HIGHLY symbolic.

and yes i really how INCREDIBLY narcissistic or self absorbed it is of me to think that everything around me is merely reflecting back to me my own psyche.

and that even when it RAINS (which it is doing now) is just a reflection of "my dream", "my mind", "my psyche". that "it" is all trying to "teach me/show me/reflect back to me some sort of meaningful thing.

but i do think it is that way, and that it is true for everyone.
i do believe we create our own realities and that...well, that is a huge novel to type out. just go read "the nature of personal reality" by jane roberts. if you want to know what i mean.

so if i were to put meaning on that "event" i would say it was my guilt over doing that to my mom.
and that it was my fear that by "binding" her in that way i would be killing off the last of anything pure, good, and innocent and of value in my life. it was the end of innocence.
that is it in a nutshell:
the end of innocence.

that i would be killed, i would be killing off the last bits of any hope or love or goodness in my life. that what i do to her i do to myself.

and that my own beautiful life giving string which i create from and what ties us all together, string which holds so much promise for me and which i love so dearly and represented to me life in all it's possibilities and sacred geometry, could be something which also kills that which i most love and cherish.

entangles, swallows, rips you up and can strangle you from the INSIDE.

but then if i see this is a dream i cannot forget the "ending".

which is that i got home in time.
and i got pooka free from the string.
and i loved him and paid attention to him.
and i got him to the hospital in time.
and through all the love of my family around the planet, who also love the pooka, the pooka was saved from the string.

and now he is totally fine.
and so everything good, pure, and loving in my life was NOT lost.

just like in my dream i had from a few nights ago where i wrestled pooka away from my mom but let her keep my suitcases and then she ripped up all the insides of my suitcases with her special new weapon and so all my posessions that i loved were shredded.

but then i found out they were not my REAL suitcases they were just cheap copies of my suitcases that she bought to trick me.

it was just a TRICK that everything i loved and held dear was destroyed. it wasn't destroyed at all.

and once i had my real suitcases in my hands again, i discovered that much that was in there i didn't even really need and so i let go of almost all of it.

so....

this is, in part, the things i have been processing in my mind.
just one small percent.

and i think that is all i can write now for today.

jason is getting on a plane now to come home.

i am going to take a bath and do the rest of my laundry and clean a bit before he comes home.

and by 8pm, at least, he should be home with me :)

i've been writing this for almost 3 hours!

oops, one more thing i remember now that i have, that i did remember "up there" as i was typing, but had so much ti type it just didn't make it in there....is this pillow my mom made for me.


and she embroidered on it all the pet names she calls me.
and it was made to comfort me when i sleep or maybe i should rest my head on it or something.

but the satin she used isn't very soft and the it has some sequins on it that are scratchy and she also used some fabric paint to fill in parts that i suppose were too much of a pain in the ass for her to embroider.
and it SHOULD be one of those things i treasure and go "awwwwww"
but even when i WASN'T mad at her and we were still sort of getting along and i DID display it on my bed for many years...it just wasn't something i ever intuitively felt was made with the amount of love and care that *I* feel a mother should have put into something like that.
which i know sounds damn snobby of me.
it's nice she even made me one at all. it's the only things she's ever made me besides a few jumpsuits and dresses when i was a really little girl (which were to small so i could never wear them but hey, it's the thought that counts). and ya, i should be thinking "it's the thought that counts" with this pillow.
but the thing is just scratchy and damn ugly, to put it plainly.
and my mother is no great artist, but i DO know she has SOME artistic ability because i saw some of her watercolours she did in her twenties and the weren't at all bad. if she had stuck with it i think it's something she could have been quite good at. and i've seen the crafts she has made like pine cone wreathes and things. and she's a really good interior decorator. and i know she can SEW because the things she sewed me when i was a kid were really well sewn! they just didn't fit.
so she is completely capable of creating something of quality that looks very nice.
so when i got this pillow, that had been handemboidered and painted like a child from kindergarten had made it...i was just like "huh?"
it felt to me like she started out with good intentions, i mean the idea is really sentimental and something i would have cherished all my life. but it seems like she started it and then just got bored of it and so haphazardly threw it together and then hastily added some fabric paint when she realized that embroidery would take too long, and the sequins started coming off soon after i got it...and it's really just kind of a mess and it's dirty now but it's not machine washable, and for some reason the embroidery thread kind of bled into the cheap pink satin, so it just looks..well. not so cool.

but i guess it wasn't made for actually putting on my bed even tho that is where my mom wanted me to out it. it would have held up better on a shelf somewhere. which is where it now is.

and the pillow itself isn't even soft. it's just this...brick.

so i've thought of just cutting off the front part where she made the stuff and then sewing it back on to something else.

i don't know. i don't know what to do with it.

and frankly, it giving me a stomache ache and major anxiety even typing about it.

good grief i had to go take some tums, aspirin and xanax after writing about that pillow.

so while this pillow should actually be one of my most prized and sentimental possessions. something that i would want to pass on to MY children, if ever i was going to have any...
it just represents to me how her love for me is just kind of shallow, hasty, boring, not very well focused. good intentioned, to be sure, in a way. but....just kind of cheap.

augh.

i'm going to go and try to get my mind off this now.
take a bath. make things smell nice.
get my mind on the happiness of jason coming home.
and he is exhausted from his whole family.
huge weddings are exhausting.
and it sounds as tho this one was based around food pretty much the entire time. and he is really trying hard to lose weight and he is doing SUCH a good job of it. he's lost over 30 pounds so far just being sensible and on no weird diet.
and so i think this wedding was really hard on him, not just because family and weddings are stressful, but all this food and pressure for him to eat and eat and eat. and i think he sees where are a lot of his bad eating habits come from now even more so.

and so that would be exhausting and distressing and he had a few intense but good confrontations with some members of his family.

and so...i want to be a soft place for him to fall when he arrives home. i want things to be clean and smell nice.
i want him to put his head in my lap and feel safe and loved.

for he is my creature and i adore him.

12:03pm

happy may!

it's only 40 degrees here. brrrrr. should be up to 77 later this week. yay!

jason comes home at 7:30pm

double yay!

i did a really crappy job of dyeing my hair red. i missed some spots. and i didn't rinse it out very well and i have red all over everything.

i had a dream i was back in my little home town named glenville.
the town was so rundown and there were squatters in my old house.
it was all boarded up.
i kicked all the squatters out and let them know this was MY house.
there was a picture of the pope on the outside of my house and i ripped it down.

all the houses around my house were also boarded up and rundown.

i recalled the days that happy elderly people lived there and there had been a field of lilies.
and i could see the train from a mile away go by because there was an unobstructed view.

now it was just boarded up houses everywhere.
even the road was not even tarred anymor but was just a dirt road and grass had grown over it.

i can't remember any of my other dreams.

today i have my oven on for heat. cold in here.

i'm going to do more laundry and get stuff like that done before jason gets home.

i didn't get much creating done this weekend.
just kind of staring, reading, cleaning, sleeping, thinking, tried to do some excercising.

it's grey out.

the pupppies are playing on the bed making silly noises.

+++

so funny :)

"So there are these Star Wars fans Übernerds who are lining up in front of Grauman's for the premiere of "Revenge of the Sith" in a couple of months.

The only problem is, "Return of the Sith" isn't going to screen at Graumans. For reasons that are best left to the shadowy corners of The Film Distribution World, it will be playing at the Arclight, which is about a half-mile away. (The Arclight, by the way, is the best theater in Los Angeles. Nobody else even comes close.)

When they found out about this unfortunate turn of events, the Star Wars Nerds naturally packed up their stuff, and walked down the block to Arclight.

Except they didn't.

They're keeping the line right where it is . . . as a self-described act of protest...."

read more:

http://www.wilwheaton.net/mt/archives/003246.php

+++

Horoscope for Aries (May 1 2005)

You will have some interesting ideas that will help solve reform issues within organizations you belong to. You will be able to tell a great story, combined with your wonderful imagination and fabulous insight. Put all these talents together and you will prosper.

and

Self-confidence
You will feel energetic and vigorous during this time. Your physical health will be quite good, and you should seek activities that will give this energy an outlet. Sitting around will not have any particular bad effects, but you would be wasting a valuable opportunity. You will probably enjoy whatever work you do because it makes you feel so alive. If you have to be personally effective in an activity, such as business or negotiations with others, you will be able to achieve the desired results now. This influence gives you the necessary self-confidence to influence others and make a positive impression. It is also favorable for traveling and expressing yourself through new experiences and new encounters. You are intellectually restless, and you want to do something different.