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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.
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Monday, Feb. 28, 2005 - 2:49 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.

Whoring Around to A Nice Musical Eve

OK, it's 2:49 or somesuch and I am going to bed. Believe it or not.

I have an appointment at the bank tomorrow at 11am, which means up, shower, iron clothes, dress, eat, put together paperwork, and walk to the bank by 11am. uhhuh.

Yeah, for the rest of ya that's like being forced to eat breakfast before noon. I getcha. But it's not you. It's me.

So I gotta get to bed now and I'll maybe get 6 1/2 hrs sleep...

I had lots of fun getting several new hatemails from the nasty blog people, in which it is ascertained that I am indeed a prostitute, and not only that was whoring around since I was 15, and she knows a woman who sometimes goes to whores and maybe she'll give her my number and I won't have to work anymore.

I dunno. Any woman gonna pay me $40,000 a year to "whore around" so I don't have to work anymore, I'm there I tell ya! hehe. Actually a few years ago I grossed $90,000 Cdn (ok it only happened once... gross, not net, and I payed about $23,000 in income tax)... so I think I should tell her that is how much I wanna be farmed out for if I am expected to make enough not to work.

yowza. I knew I was a highclass ho but that's better news than I ever expected. Julia Roberts watch out! here I come!

Some people really lose all their class when they are losing an argument. Can't argue the point, call people names. She said "I am not namecalling, I am calling it as I see it"... so um, yeah, basically that means she needs new glasses. That's the difference between a journalist and a muckraker. They both look at the same thing, but the first sees a nuanced story to investigate and report upon intelligently and the second sees drama and mud to sling. Why bother with the nuance between "her mom went back to school to become a neonatal nurse twenty years ago when wenchie had left home, and went on welfare for a year to do it" and "wenchie did sexwork to earn money cuz she had a welfare mom". uhhuh.

The sad thing is the woman wants to be a writer. Claims to be.

hmmm. National Enquirer may be hiring.

Onewetleg offered me her soft shoulder to sigh upon and some nice lovely hot tea (she's adding brandy to buck me up cuz I'm a middleclass white lady who isn't used to such rough language) and told me to buck up. So I'm all better now. yay!

On another front, it was a lovely evening. I went to hear my friend from New York play music with another three or four women... some keyboard, some spoken word, some accordion. It was all really great. I took some work with me and traced drawings from South Korea contract, so I felt ok about being out. And I sold $48 of comics! Now how cool is that?? Yay! And got three cds and a little chapbook of writing.

So it was fun and now it's late and I'm off to get some zzzzs.

And you know what? That darn rejection crayon was right... it IS that time of month. Ah, the quizzes are more tuned in than me. Just thought you were all DYING to know that!!

nite nite!

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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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