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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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Monday, Dec. 01, 2003 - 4:34 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.

Snowy Windows Hugging Laundry

To read the first entry of today go to Charred Red Peppers, and to see the other entry tonight go to Dabbling Dilletante Explains Herself

snowy window Nov 29, copyright Wench77
Well, I was goofy enough to complain about the rain to Perceptionss and wish for snow instead. So I woke up on Sat to this view of the nastiest thinnest meanest little snowiness blowing by the window in gusts and took you all a polaroid. Sad. Icy and slippery all day. No fluffiness white holidayness about it. Just driven into your face and skinny fine thinness in the grass. Doggies was excited anyways... I said "snow!" before I opened the door and she got all perked up. Then of course she wanted me to throw it in the air for her. No mean feat, between the paucity of it, and the gusts of wind which scattered it like a floursifter in front of a fan. I tried I tell ya.

It is all melted now. So at least I haven't fallen and whacked my knees yet this winter.

What happened to the reigning great mood that followed my last week's dramarama blogfest?? Gone I tell ya. Maybe I'm premenstrual... I can't remember and can't be bothered to check in my diary (the hardcover paper agenda one). But yesterday nothing really went wrong. The snow was more ok than depressing. I got shopping done for my salad for today's eat, meet and beat. I got someone to walk my dog for tonight with only one phone call. I bought some foamcor and made a new little portable cartooning sketchpad and started my "Don't be a Shit" comic book... beginning with my "I Posed for a Pornographer" story... not that I have anything against all pornographers, just ones posing as fine artists who would never DO SUCH A THING, and are lying through their teeth to get you to sign the model release.

laundryhug copyright 2003 Wench77
I bumped into an old old friend (well, since 1987 which is not THAT old, but I realize there are people on diaryland who were born that year) on the street and had a pleasant little chat. I went out to the Belles Soeurs to draw and had a couple other fun little chats.

Who knows where the foul mood came from. But I wasn't as up getting dressed to go to the Fetish Cafe last night as I was last week. I planned to wear these totally cool fun red cotton panties with black laces up the front that ob bought me, but I felt like a sloggy slaggy person in them. I tried on another pair and looked worse. Finally I wore the XL black string bikini with skull and crossbones on the front, with white and black over the knee stockings, my black kneehigh harley boots, with a black lace bra and a little black jacket top over it all. I was so totally too lazy to even get into the shower so I used a baby wipe on my butt (sad huh!) and stuck down my hair with hairsculpt glue stuff that I slicked back with a widetoothed comb. I understand those Europeans of hundreds of years ago who powdered and wore wigs instead of washing. hah.

I had an ok time at the bar. There were a gazillion and two people, but it was less fun than last week. Fewer people I knew personally, more strangers and acquaintances. I did meet another couple dykes (one of whom had an urban cowboy type hat and drawn on facial hair, reminding me of ob), some leatherfags (whom I encouraged to come back... eyecandy!). This one guy who ran the old Fetish Cafe years back before I was on the scene was there, being very friendly and sort of physically flirty with me. He's quite adorable, short and small with long long dark hair, in black, with huge liquid eyes. It was kind of nice. But then later... oh I'll tell you that part later.

Anyhows. No playing for me. The music was horribly bad, and when I said something to Jacques, who usually is this great dj, he just said "AAK, I'm NOT responsible!!"... turns out they have demoted him (in position and in pay) to busboy, and my ex Black and the new manager, Jon, techogeekboys both of them, had decided to instead put on randomly playing prerecorded cds run by computer system. Horrid. A mixture of some weird 70's rock (not surprising given these boys... really good taste in latex clothes and tacky sexiness, and BAD taste in music), Madonna and Enya or somesuch. Help me. Usually it is Nitzer Ebb and NIN and Marilyn Manson with David Bowie and other funky stuff that is fun to dance to that I don't know.

I complained to the owners, who said they are hands off now... speak to the manager and Black. Well, Black is my ex, who thinks I am just one complaining big mouth... a sexy one but still, this is the guy that more than once shut me up with duct tape. He just seemed to not care about the music. And Jon, the manager, just said "give me a song you want to hear". Well, I am NOT a dj. I said that is WHY we have djs instead of some nimrod who takes requests. Jaques was just excellent. People came sometimes just cuz the music was good. People used to dance alot. Now the dancefloor was dead. ONE good song came on and the floor was full and then the computer cleared the floor with the next horrid tune. A dj reads the crowd. Sees if people are dancing and goes with it. Sees people are chatting and goes with it. Intelligent, flexible, hundreds and thousands of songs in his repertoire. ack. I gave Jacques some paper and a pen and said "when people complain, get them to write it down and sign it, and give it to the manager at the end of the night... then it won't just be wench complaining". urk. I realize that if I was less volatile and less mouthy and calm and authoritative my complaints would go further. Maybe that was the start of the self-shitting-upon??

It was cool that downstairs in the dungeon there were like 8 couples playing at once. That is a change. The third room at the end was commandeered all night by members of our loose women's group (haha! loose group, not loose women... or maybe?....) the Unholy. That was a great thing.

Quite late I noticed that this one adorable talented boyish dyke whom I have a baby crush on had shown up with another dyke I know. They were looking totally spiffola in fitted men's suits, and I said so... apparently that was the closest to fetish clothes they had in their wardrobes at this time. I chatted a bit, but unfortunately ended on some stupid negative thing about someone (how does that happen?? ack!)... it was meant to be a middle not an end, but the aforementioned old fetish club owner (old club not old owner! geez these multiple adjectives!) pulled her away and was totally chatting her up like a long lost pal, and gave her free tickets to the megafetishparty there next week. Hmmm.

Way later in the evening I asked them if they knew the women of the Unholy... and boyish dyke said "no, and I don't need to know them" squidge. She said she really didn't know anyone there.

I countered, well you're friends with the old owner. And she replied it was the first time she'd met him. Well, I guess in that case that any flirtatiousness on his part towards me was just a casual passing thing too, if that's how he acts with strangers, including free tickets. Sigh again.

More adding to the glll feeling. and I guess I just somehow felt I was not connecting with boyish dyke, though it was one of the first times I could talk to her not surrounded by the typical nonstop entourage of cooltalenteddykes that swarm up to her. She is one of those quiet people that can stand at a bar and people swarm. Why. I dont know. And why do I have to find people like this attractive? It is not because of the swarming. It is because of the boyishness and the talent. She's a dancer and does performance art. She also did some funky great movies at the filmfest last year, with poetry she wrote, about death and India. Sigh.

I think it is that feeling of having someone's attention and getting politeness rather than real interest that started the snowball rolling of the dilettantism last night.

Lost Towel, copyright 2003 Wench77

I have more problem with people being disengaged than angry or arguing or most anything else. When they are half listening. Or there but distracted. Or I'm talking and they disengage quickly. I have a very hard time with that. And I realized how self-conscious I was last night. And how I feel so often like that. How with ob there was less of that infatuation thing but I felt she was with me rather than across from me. I felt at ease and was myself. And I felt that instead of having people skim over the surface and turn away to someone more interesting, that every surface was, with her, the surface, and I could dive below it to discover new and exciting things to explore. With her I felt like all these interests were doors that I could open and expand on what was inside them. I felt like she inspired me to create and learn and take chances, instead of being afraid of judgment and careful and being blocked by fear and timidity and uncomfortableness. I cannot believe how changed I was with her in so many ways... more myself than I have ever been, and now how changed I am again... so struggling against fear and selfdoubt and mistrust and blocking myself for fear of rejection and failure again.

So incredibly sad how that ended. What could have been this positive building block of great experiences to go forward from, to leap off of, instead feels like a bunch of negative dragging me down with the weight of fear. I feel so wary now. So judgmental of myself. I feel so like I failed in that relationship. So big big time.

My therapist said I tried my best. The whole way. And that is what is so sad. If I hadnt tried always my best, I could feel less like a failure.

If you do your best best best and let someone really see you and you come in last, what does that mean?

Damn, I made myself cry again. I am not a good friend to ME. poop and poop. And I even had a pleasant night tonight at the eat and meet... very little beat... but much taking of photos in fun outfits and a wig. yes. That's another story.

Somehow now it is 5:30 am. I need to finish washing the bugs off the plant I started this afternoon. I have to wash off the scale insects, since they are doing the fruitfly overpopulation thing, and overgrowing their resources.. ie killing my plants. Must attack. Like i need more to do.

Thanks to people who put nice notes yesterday.

And hugs to me from me.
Love, me, wenchie. yeah.

******ps, please remember to put yourselves on the guestmap there to the left under the Pueblo Blessing. And please do my surveys huh! (scroll down that page to find them) Thanks!*****

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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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