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Music today: Everything But the Girl again

Reading: Harper's Magazine

Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Thursday, Dec. 04, 2003 - 6:03 a.m.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.

Charitable Guilt and Cemetary Shots

Yes it is again 6am. Really I DO try. But my life is like a large boulder. You have to push hard and start slowly to get it rolling. And then once it is rolling, it is going at a good clip and it takes a lot of effort to get it to stop. It seems easier to stay in bed until I am no longer sleepy, and to stay up until I am sleepy. Now I realize that such a thing is of course completely against the laws of nature. Getting up when you have had enough sleep and going to sleep when you are tired. But you know me, perverse and unnatural. yup.

I actually was going to go to bed without putting an entry. But this diary seems to be the only thing that I am motivated to do on a regular basis and build up something of substance without it feeling like pulling teeth. So I'm not going to let it slide. Nope.

I DID start an entry about 6:30 pm. About feeling guilted. It is not the nice volunteer telephone people's fault. Every year I am usually generous with my moulah when they call me, cuz for the past few years I have actually earned more than I need, since my needs are rather small. I don't buy a new car, have dependents, need new clothes etc. So now this year they are all calling me up going "money money money"... and I cringe. I of course have a cash flow problem, which is different from being actually impoverished. If I were impoverished I would not feel guilty. But I feel on edge and stressed and like my pockets are sieves. Just tomorrow I need to pay $100 to my therapist and $135 to the flamenco teacher. And those are not even day to day expenses, which eat away at my credit margin slowly but surely. It is stressful. I have been trying not to let it bug me, during the whole time I didnt really work in May (driving ob across the country), and in June (working on the 5th story in those religion of the world books... the project got kind of waylaid so that work is still undone and unpaid on my table). In July I negotiated contracts and did the sketches for Bear for $500 (yoopee). And Aug-Nov I was working on Bear and the US contracts all of whom are not really paying me.

Sorrowful
As if you were born into a world of tears, you
always tend to look at the darker things in
life. Inside you crave attention yet push away
society, and you're a hopeless romantic. Drawn
to things like the occult and mysteries, you
spend your time daydreaming of

What Type of Soul Do You Have ?
brought to you by Quizilla

note from the wench... it DOES suddenly end with "of"... hmm.

I did get to the bank today, as one of the US checks came in. And the exchange rate on US$ has gone down to 1.28 whereas when I accepted the contracts (and got figures of my budget in my head), the exchange rate was 1.58. That's a wonkin difference. Means I lose about 500$ Canadian on each check vs what I thought I had to spend, and was spending on my credit margin. Poop and fart and fuckitall anyways. So that was the news this afternoon before the charity people started their evening phone calls for feeding the impoverished children at lunchtime. I offered that 4 children at least could eat lunch at my house, but the woman didnt even flinch. Just demanded moulah again. I said call back, maybe I'll feel more generous another day. I think of the pile of demands on my floor, waiting for me to write checks: Planned Parenthood (damn that Bush), Doctors without Borders, Canadian Heart Association, Reclaim illiteracy, Amnesty International, SPCA, Ste-Justine Children's Hospital, Council of Canadians, Greenpeace, Friends of the CBC, War-Amps, David Suzuki Foundation, Peta, American Lung Association, Easter Seals,... well that's off the top of my head, and only about a third of them. Guilt for secondguessing giving to each and every one of them. And when I cough up (which I have done for at least 4 this week), I stress. Sigh. I am spoiled.

Today I got some more comics done. Two pages on my "I Posed for a Pornographer" comic. But nothing done on the doggie book. And didn't get finished even one plant in the bug-scrubbing saga.

I would've gotten more done on the comics... I was on a roll, came home and thought "yes!! I shall use my Moroccan livingroom at home as a place to hang and draw comics so I am away from the dreaded internet!!" and at that moment the aforementioned charity people called. As soon as they hung up, one of my friends called, wanting to chat cuz she'd had some minor surgery and was home alone and tired of amusing herself. Now of course I should have just said "I'm sorry but I am working right now". But no, one hour later, we had managed to discuss how I feel like I am wasting my time by being inefficient and indisciplined, as well as how there were too many fetish social events now. Put together, she suggested everything from prioritizing (yes, I should prioritize comics over chatting friends, but I decided to prioritize friend in need over cartooning... glll), socializing less, getting out more, changing my work patterns, not looking at my emails for 3 days (which of course would result in my later opening an inbox with about 300 unread messages), sleeping differently, and finally, taking sleeping pills to change my schedule. Interestingly this is the same friend who thinks I should be medicated for my moodiness. I am seeing a pattern.

Wench in SF Italian Cemetary, copyright 2003 Wench77/kinkboi
But by the end of the conversation I was frustrated, with a splitting headache (take two tylenol), felt like I was taking HER time (her girlfriend had arrived at home and she HAD to get off the phone), and felt like I was completely a mess. Fuckitall. On top of it, it was time to do doggywalkies and I had planned to do weights after doggywalkies. So in the interest of feeling even vaguely disciplined today, I DID follow that plan, and immediately thought. Fuck her. I have had this sleep schedule at various phases from the age of 17 and it is not ruining my life. My problem is not so much that I do too little, but rather than my expectations of myself are a bit out of wack, ie excessive.

So, after the weights, I chatted (happily) to a different friend, made great spaghetti sauce, did all the dishes, and got done another page of comics. I even had a hot soaky bath tonight. First time this fall. It is so great... bath oil and water so hot you can hardly stand it. You sweat out all the dirt, and feel all warmed up on a cold day. mmm. lovely. Now my skin is soft and not dried out like an old fig.

So PAH and BAH to people telling me to take pills. No pills. No pills. (well the tylenol were helpful)

Anyways, so what's with the cemetary pic huh? Well, I was reading in the bath: a story in Harpers magazine, my fave, and in it a friend/ acquaintance of the speaker dies, and he gets an evelope from the lawyer. And I started to think about how I am so totally unprepared for death, all the lawyer and will shit. Totally unprepared. So I thought I might write a survey about that. Which is sort of a weird thing, but I keep getting these highschool diarists doing my surveys and they don't have a lot to say on infertile dykes (which is a good thing, cuz generally they think single women and dykes having kids is ok, which is a relief to me). Or even on breaking up. It is funny when someone 13 or 15 writes about their breakups. I shouldn't say that, but it is so adorable when they say well, I did stay away from seeing him for three days, but now I see him at school and it is ok. And now I have a crush on Bob. And we're in love and we've been dating for 5 days. Yup. Hell, I'm envious. I didnt have breakups and dating at 13. Nope. Well, I am blathering.

Last night there was a double rainbow around the moon. Can you imagine? Yellow, orange, red purple blue green yellow orange red purple blue then indigo black night sky, in a doughnut around the moon. It was absolutely spectacular. I tried to take a photo, but don't know if it will show up. It only lasted a few minutes.

So, think about how you've prepared for death or not, and then you can do my survey when I've got it done. ***6:58... it's DONE now!! Do my "ready to die" survey! ***Morbid I suppose. I would call it realistic. Yup. Can kick the ol bucket at anytime. I pity who is left to deal with my life if I vanish suddenly. Maybe they'll just get in a bulldozer.

Bye for now!! I'll be back to put in the link to the survey, so come back later!!

In the meanwhile, here's another goofy quizilla, BIG surprise on the results!! hehe!


Bondage movie! You're into BSDM (Bondage &
Discipline, Dominance & Submission) and chances
are, you're fond of whips, chains, harnesses,
and tight leather outfits. You like to mix a
little pain with a LOT of pleasure, baby!

What kind of porno would you star in?
brought to you by Quizilla

ps. I was going to put in more cemetary pictures, but those are rolls of me and ob, and when I saw the pics of her grinning at me with my lipstick on her face I started to cry, and lately I had been feeling quite detached in a healthy sort of non sad all the time way. And I cannot start crying too much cuz I forgot to buy more kleenex and too lazy to walk for toiletpaper. yup. So, one cemetary pic. Deal with it.

ps, I tried to do some other quizillas like "do you have good taste" and "are you cool" and "which female rockstar are you?" but I am too old!! I don't know any of the movies, songs, or boystars I am supposed to choose between! I am a culturally retarded oldster!! help!

ps, if you read Squirrel X you should go and write her a huggy note. She needs it. yup. Hard times at the squirrel's. Help her out.

Here is my horoscope for Wednesday, December 3:

As long as you don't hurt anyone, you can probably do as you please. The stars give you a wink and promptly look the other way. Leo's most satisfactory outcome would be learning something new.

pps. I totally flaked on the girls' night at the L'Aigle Noir tonight. I just cannot manage 4 fetish events in 7 days. I gotta take it slower than that. My Operafriend's birthday party is Sat night. That is also her Christmas event. Should be a blast.

Well, end of endless entry. Goodnightsleeptight. NO, I am not doing the passport renewal today. Therapy, flamenco and work is enuf. Friday maybe. Ciao-o

To bed with the hot water bottles by the toesies, hugs and love to me, da wench.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009

 

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