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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. 22, 2003 - 5:11 a.m.

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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.

Someone else in the World is Lovable

Onewetleg pointed out that I cannot be mad at people for not updating since this is the season of whatever. yup.

I guess I am not mad, I am just feeling that people other than me must have real lives, with real people, that tear them away from their computer screens. When I used to visit ob I used to not think of looking at my emails for at least several days at a time. Let alone updating my diary. yup.

I just opened the box from my mom. Who knew Canada Post delivers parcels at 10am Sunday morning. It made me cry. Not the parcel. Opening it. She is a great mom. She sent me homemade jelly, and some of that FruitFresh shit (ascorbic acid otherwise known as vitamin C) that I couldnt find here to sprinkle on fresh peaches to keep em from going brown in the freezer. And lots of wrapped christmas parcels, all wedged in with used plastic bags to use to pick up doggy poop. This is good since my doggy poop bag dispenser was getting empty. There was a non-giftwrapped box written "STOCKING" on it. I guess I get someone else to put it in my stocking so I don't see it go in, only come out???

And giftwrapped boxes with sticky notes saying "open first" and "open last". But also notecards that said things like "to L'il lumpy" (that was my baby nickname... I always thought it was because I was fat), and "to my l'il angel" and "hugs and kisses" and "wish you were here".

Well, that's nice for a gift to say. But she didn't invite me for Christmas for the third year now. Last year my Dad DID invite me, but it was more of a pity thing, since I said I wasn't going to Mom's. I don't think I could stand a whole christmas at his place with his wife, I hate to say. I was last at his place at Christmas for one day, in 1992. That's a long time ago. So last year I stayed here. There is also the issue that my parents both live in BC now, so I would pretty much be obligated to visit both, once there. And the various half-sister, brother, stepbrother siblings scattered about Vancouver.

The previous year my Mom moved to BC from here in Nov, and said she couldnt have visitors for Christmas. She has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and had to take it easy.

Ironically before she moved here I was the Good Daughter, who she paid to fly in to help her out, cook meals, wash walls, run errands etc, when she had worse chronic fatigue.

My mom is a great mom. She is difficult sometimes. And seems to have gone off the deep end in blaming people weirdly three years ago, about the time she decided to move away. That is another, LONG, story.

You know, I am the kind of person who would make a lovely thoughtful Christmas package like that. I feel I am a waste. Yes, a waste. I cook well, I sew well, I bake well, I decorate well, I am caring and loving and buy super good christmas presents. The kind that fit with people. That they want. At least when I know them.

But there is just something wrong with me. I really really think I am simply not lovable. I am a great person. But I am just wrong. I just fuck up somehow. Say all the right things with the wrong tone of voice. Am loyal and there rock solid, but somehow don't inspire loyalty one iota. I help people out, but they leave me for people who need help. I am annoying, but they leave me for people who annoy them more. If I let them down, they leave me for people who let them down more.

There is something wrong with me that I don't inspire love. I don't know what it is. People love me from afar. They IMAGINE loving me. They IMAGINE great conversations, fun camping, dancing together, great sex, all kinds of things. They just don't do it. I don't know. People say "We gotta go canoeing" but it doesnt happen. Take tango lessons, go rock climbing, paint pictures.

I had a best friend for years, who I wanted to go out with at one point, but she wouldn't leave her "sugar daddy", the woman she lived with. I used to say it was because I didnt have a corporate job and cook italian food. She followed me around for years, helping me out, but wouldn't really talk about herself. At one point she wrote me a letter that she was in love with me, and that she had amazing conversations with me in her head. But she didn't leave her lover, or have conversations with me in person.

She finally left her "sugar daddy" lover, for someone who had a corporate job, cooked great food, and threatened to leave her cuz she wouldnt talk. hmm

I had someone offer to teach me to rock climb once. She broke her leg skiing. I had someone who I started to do collaborative paintings with once. She went nuts and ended up in psych ward. I had someone who wanted me to go to Viscious Valentine BDSM conference with them once. She pulled her back and went into a huge incommunicado depression. I had a Top invite me to be with her at her place once, and when I was there told me every two minutes how great I was. But then while I was there, September 11th happened. She also pulled her back. AND her cat got hit by a car and died. She told me there wasn't enough chemistry to continue, though she continues to tell me I am sexy.

I dunno. But you know some people are just lovable. They are clutzy maybe. They make mistakes. They say the wrong things. They are idiots and stand people up, miss dates, cheat on people. But yet they are still lovable. Everyone forgives them since they are lovable. I have never been this way. When I am good at things, people don't say "oh, show everyone!!! :) " (except for the drawings, which they buy and then go away), no, I am a showoff, or annoyingly good at things. I like to show people up supposedly. That is not true. I am trying to do a good job so I am acceptable.

If you are not lovable and you fuck up, people yell at you and put you down, and get angry. If you are not lovable and you don't fuck up, people feel shown up, or insecure or like you are "too perfect" a "brownnoser" a "brain" a "teacher's pet" a "know it all" and get angry anyways.

It all comes down to if you are lovable. In my flamenco class there is a girl who is lovable. The flamenco teacher loves her and you can see it in her face when this girl fucks up which is all the time.

My flamenco teacher showed us how to use the fan simply, so we could dance for our friends over christmas even if we hadnt learned the fan in Carmen so much. I kept thinking. Hah. What friends would ASK me to do Carmen for them?? No, if I offered to do Carmen I would be like the little annoying kid going "look at me, i took dance lessons". If you are loved people WANT to see you do things, and if you fuck up they go "oh you are so cute" or "it doesnt matter" and laugh and hug you. If you are not loved, they lose interest halfway through even if you do your best. And they all talk about the news, or how is Mary, or do you want another cookie or a beer.

I know. I see how people talk about people who do a performance for someone's birthday for instance. If they dont love the person they say "oh, she is so full of herself, she just shows off, she is horrid". yes. Even if that person worked really hard and is actually doing it with a good heart.

If you are loved, people feel WITH you. If you are not loved, people look AT you. If you are lucky. If you are not lucky they look THROUGH you.

And then there is the question of being loved by people who don't want you around. Who say I love you, but don't want you to come for Christmas even if they write "wish you were here". Who say I love you, but go off and leave you alone while they have a date with someone else they dont want to regret missing. I want them to not regret missing me, and so to choose me. It doesnt happen.

I will spend Christmas alone because I don't want a pity Christmas. I do not want to be invited to someone's Christmas and watch them love each other and be together, while I am the invited orphan who is alone. I want someone to say "it wouldnt be the same without you" and mean it. Or "we will wait til you get here" and want to wait. Or want to be here with me.

I will have a nice day alone. I will open my presents that say "wish you were here". I will make my favorite Christmas meal. I will listen to Christmas music and sit in my livingroom and look at my lamp. You know very well ob did love me when she bought me that lamp. It makes me feel loved once. I will eat after eights all day on the 25th and drink Buttershots Schnapps and smoke hookah and read a novel all day long. yes.

I wish I was lovable. Maybe that was in another life. A different person. One who was less good at lots of things, but held dear in people's hearts and made their hearts sing. Someone they want to spend more more time with, not go "I miss her when she is not here, but I get too much of her real quick" which is what my mother has always said. It hurts you know. You are always wondering, is now enough so I am not TOO much? I hate being too much.

That moment when the chocolates go from yummy to "gag me". yup. I am the "gag me". Look great in the box.

I have to stop writing this. I am going on and on. This is a stupid entry. No wonder people invite me out of pity. or whatever. Christian Charity. No.

I have to remember to buy aftereights.

Gonna go spray the bugs now. goodnight.

hugs to me, wenchie. I need big hugs.

I still miss ob. She never made me feel "Too Much".

Though at the end I was "Not Enough".

I think I am having a sad evening.

Read my other entries tonight: Protection Racket Comics and Sunday Unconscious Mutterings.

Here is my horoscope for Sunday, December 21:

Your voice may be quiet, but your thoughts are wild. Shake off your cares and throw yourself into a daring situation. Anyone that's good enough to be friends with Leo is in for a big treat.

Ps. I DID have a very good productive day. Even dressed up, in a dress! put makeup on, and went out to a get-together in the neighborhood. So this entry is not indicative of my day. Just indicative of now.

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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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