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Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
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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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Wednesday, Feb. 09, 2005 - 6:20 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.

A Good Day to Hate Oneself!

Wahhh, I swear if I didn't update anything, such as this diary, I MIGHT have been in bed by 6am. I swear!! At 4:30 I was just finishing up a drawing. I thought I'd knock off at 5am. Yup silly me. I forgot oh um scanning them all in. Saving them. Sending them as attachments to South Korea. Saving stuff and uploading it for here. Writing an entry. Silly me!!

Well, a pretty good day though rainy as heck. I hate this in the winter... at least the sidewalks had melted off to sheer concrete in the past few days before the rain, but the snow in the parks and lawns had turned to heavy moosh in the sun, and now with the rain it is wall to wall sheer ice (as if there are walls in the park, but street to street sounds dumb). Almost impossible to walk let alone play with a dog. And the streets and sidewalks have all that salt and oily gravel on them, which splashes up onto doggies as she walks. I have to wash her feet in a bucket everytime we come in, and we wont even describe the state of her fur on her legs and belly. urp!!

Well, besides a pretty good day, two episodes of self-hating. What is up with that? Another episode at the goddamn pharmacy, where the doctor had written three renewals on my foot creme, remember? And then when I got the first tube they wrote "one renewal left" on it, and I went back and asked? well, I went back for my one renewal, and they gave me this tiny little amount. Turns out that they went for not numbers of renewals but in fact total quantity of creme by volume. Lovely. Now if they wrote "10ml left on prescription" instead of giving me a 30ml tube and writing "one renewal" which any normal person would think is a renewal of another 30 ml tube there wouldn't be a problem. Well I just showed surprise at the small quantity (and no, the itchy fungus shit isnt all gone yet... I cringe at the attempt to get my prescription renewed again after the other fiasco... perhaps I"ll just lop off the outside edge of my foot eh) and she explained the volume thingie.

But then do I shut up? No I launch into some long story about why I had thought it would be more creme at the renewal, and what a pain the renewal was to get, with them saying my doctor hadn't called and my doctor saying they had and all that... Now WHY did I do that? I have no idea. Telling the woman that is NOT going to get me more creme, doesn't erase the past, impacts zero on the present nor the future. And I could see the other pharmacy woman who had dealt with the 'no they didn't call we have no record of it" in the past glancing over at me talking. And I turned around and there were like 6 people waiting for prescriptions looking at me... and I wanted to kill myself. What is with the compulsion to tell stories? What? What? I am my own worst enemy. I feel like every one of those people add to the ones who were at the counter every other time that my prescription renewal didn't come through and I am stating once again YES I CALLED MY DOCTOR, YES THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE SAID THEY CALLED, YES THEY SAID THAT THEY WOULD MAKE A CONTINUING PRESCRIPTION, NO THEY COULDNT BE CALLING THE WRONG NUMBER OR HOW COULD YOU GET THE PRESCRIPTION WITH ONLY ONE RENEWAL... they will join all the witnesses to that fiasco which repeated itself five times at least, and they will see me walking down the street and think, "There is that annoying ranting woman who makes a scene".

WHY cannot the prescriptions be right? Why cannot people do what they say? Why can't I just be some perfect person, quiet and succinct?

What was the other episode? Went to the grocery store. As usual the packer is chatting with the cashier (two young guys about 18)... they are there alone since it is after 9pm. The packer puts ALL the tin cans in one bag, and ALL the pasta in another (they were on sale so I bought tons) and then one peach and one banana in another bag. So I have two incredibly heavy bags and one light bag with really fragile stuff i cannot put down in. I moved stuff around to equalize the weight, and put the peach and banana on top of the spaghetti, so if I set it on the sidewalk to untie the dog, I don't have peach hitting pavement, or peach in bag smashing against tincans in other bag. And pointed out that putting all the large tin cans in the same bag made it too heavy.

As I was leaving, the cashier and the packer make the death face to eachother, roll their eyes and look at me. Yes, I am the bitch lady who actually cares that her plastic bag handles don't stretch till they tear on the way home, who buys a fuckin ridiculous priced ripe peach from chili in February and wants it not reduced to mush by the time I arrive in my kitchen. Kill me.

But once again I was just as hating of myself as of them. Now there MUST be some way to get people to do things properly without redoing it myself (which makes them look bad and they hate me), without lecturing them (which makes them look bad and they hate me) and without attracting attention (which makes us all look bad and they hate me). Isn't there??

Some perfect person with a nice tone of voice, with patience and tact and niceness would manage to educate them and get their groceries not fucked up without feeling like some nagging asshole non??

I suppose stupid things like this shouldn't make me ashamed of myself and wanting to bash my head in. I suppose. One day I will bash my head in for something stupid like pointing out i am shortchanged at a coffeeshop or something. For the whole world looking at me and going why does she even mention it, surely she can afford to lose a fiver. There will be an engraved saying on my tombstone. "Bashed her own head in of shame". Fuckit anyways.

(and now you see why ob picked on situations in stores to say "shame on you" even though I was right... she knew it was my weak spot in self-esteem, so she is fucking mean I tell ya)

Anyways, of course the shame feeling went away til next time I talk too much or too long or too loud or say one small thing that is the wrong thing and want to bash my head in again. It's best that I eat chocolate instead. Leaves less bruises.

To mention, it is not cost effective to not buy chocolate to save $ and then eat just as much or more in value of mushrooms. hehe. Though mushrooms are not fattening. They do NOT satisfy as much as chocolate though.

One interesting thing about the South Korea clients is that they seem to be quite fond of chubbiness. They say "draw a cute chubby boy".

Them's some Cute Chubby Kids, who are reoccuring characters I draw a million times a day. I must say the South Korean work is going really well. I actually only have about one more night of work left on the sketches they want for Feb 14th so I am doing great. That means I can 1) work more on the Leo's Dog book, 2) Start tracing the ones they've approved already to get going on the finals (which I can invoice yayayayayayaaa!), 3) Work on the comics ideas for the subscription website which has invited me 4) Work on comics ideas for the two-page a month website for LGBT kids and families ... they have agreed to pay me $100 (hopefully US$) a month for the two pages starting in August 5) Get other stuff done. Maybe even go to my watercolor class again. Though not if I'm going to bed at 7am plus.

OK. Time to get to bed. Oh, I forgot, yesterday I wanted to post a link to the Marketplace books, the fifth of which, "The Reunion" I am currently reading now. Hissandtell apparently likes em too, so there's a good recommend!

I"m gonna save this and come back to put the link and also the music I'm listening to tonight ok?? sec!!

Ok there ya go, you can read all about the Marketplace books. Great stuff.

What I have been listening to on repeat is Juan Carlos Caceres, in particular a cd called "Intimo". Now dang, I'd link to that but apparently it is a hard to find import, not available at Amazon, and when I went to a german site for it, I got stuck in a popup window hell of german kiddy porn. Geesh. so no link to Intimo. It is really good though. Argentinian type tango music, lots of singing, some in French. yikes.

OK, grilled cheese time. How i wish it were 4am and not 7am. Dang. Another late starting day today. Or maybe I'll try to get up at 1pm anyways and deal with being tired now that I'm less stressed out about the South Korean workload.

Well, cheers peoples!

me, wenchie.

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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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